[Fic] fire
Fandom: The Hobbit
Characters: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Thorin's company
Rating: PG
Word count: c.600
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For a prompt on the kinkmeme: There is a fire in the town of Men the dwarves are staying at, and Fili is trapped in the building. Thorin thinks he's going to have to watch someone he loves be killed by fire yet again.
***
Houses of Men burn so easily, made of wood and mortar instead of steel and stone, but that didn’t help Erebor when the dragon came.
The sting of the smoke in Thorin’s eyes is the same, blurring his vision as he blinks ash out of his eyes, and it brings back memories of the smell of charcoal and melting flesh and it turns his stomach, bile rising in the back of his throat. He forces it down, forces the fear away, trying to straighten himself amongst the panic in the mad rush of Men and dwarves fleeing the flames, but then he hears the scream.
“Fili!” It’s Kili, calling desperately for his brother, while Dwalin holds him back, trying to stop him from running headfirst back into the burning building. He spots Thorin among the frantic crowd. “He’s still in there! Thorin, Fili’s still in there!”
Thorin is frozen for a moment, because this is a fear he didn’t realize he had. It’s different from the fire in the forge. Thorin is accustomed to the heat, and he controls the sparks and shapes the smouldering metal he handles; it is his work, a dwarf’s work, and it is natural and practised to him. But this is like Smaug’s fire, wild and fierce, dangerous flames that scorch and incinerate, not the strong but steady heat of the forge that Thorin uses and respects. Suddenly Thorin is afraid that he will lose what little family he has left, because Kili will rush to Fili’s side no matter what, and Thorin can’t see them burn like he has others before, but nor will he run from this fire with Fili still inside.
He nods to Dwalin, who keeps dragging Kili away despite his struggling, while Thorin heads back towards the building. He shields his face from the sparks and flame and pushes through, ignoring the few that try to stop him, shouting out for his oldest nephew. The smoke catches in his throat and the flames roar over his voice, but he keeps low to the ground and strains his stinging eyes for any sight of Fili.
Thorin hears the coughing first, the faint calling out, and then he sees Fili's boots.
"Get down on the ground," Thorin shouts, and Fili hears, dropping to his hands and knees, relief spreading over his face when he sees his uncle coming towards him. Thorin's heart jumps, grateful that he appears unhurt, but seeing the fear in his eyes. Fili was too young when Erebor was taken to remember the dragon's flames. He has only known the steady forge fire, reliable and familiar, not the strange ferocity of this.
Together they crawl towards the door, only narrowly missed by a falling beam that thuds dangerously close to them and showers them with sparks, but they manage to get outside singed but safe. Kili is still nearby, and he finally breaks away from the others and rushes to his brother and his uncle, helping them up and embracing them fiercely, babbling almost incoherently.
"Give them some air, lad," Bofur says, steering them towards the well that others are crowded around, the Men trying to douse the fire with water from their buckets. But the fire is fierce, and it's all they can do to contain the flames and stop them from spreading throughout the entire town.
Thorin watches the blaze lighting the night, setting a fierce red glow against the sky and can't suppress a shudder. His company is safe, but he can't rid himself of the memories of those he lost to Smaug's terror, those he lost along with his yearned for home.
Characters: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Thorin's company
Rating: PG
Word count: c.600
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
A/N: For a prompt on the kinkmeme: There is a fire in the town of Men the dwarves are staying at, and Fili is trapped in the building. Thorin thinks he's going to have to watch someone he loves be killed by fire yet again.
***
Houses of Men burn so easily, made of wood and mortar instead of steel and stone, but that didn’t help Erebor when the dragon came.
The sting of the smoke in Thorin’s eyes is the same, blurring his vision as he blinks ash out of his eyes, and it brings back memories of the smell of charcoal and melting flesh and it turns his stomach, bile rising in the back of his throat. He forces it down, forces the fear away, trying to straighten himself amongst the panic in the mad rush of Men and dwarves fleeing the flames, but then he hears the scream.
“Fili!” It’s Kili, calling desperately for his brother, while Dwalin holds him back, trying to stop him from running headfirst back into the burning building. He spots Thorin among the frantic crowd. “He’s still in there! Thorin, Fili’s still in there!”
Thorin is frozen for a moment, because this is a fear he didn’t realize he had. It’s different from the fire in the forge. Thorin is accustomed to the heat, and he controls the sparks and shapes the smouldering metal he handles; it is his work, a dwarf’s work, and it is natural and practised to him. But this is like Smaug’s fire, wild and fierce, dangerous flames that scorch and incinerate, not the strong but steady heat of the forge that Thorin uses and respects. Suddenly Thorin is afraid that he will lose what little family he has left, because Kili will rush to Fili’s side no matter what, and Thorin can’t see them burn like he has others before, but nor will he run from this fire with Fili still inside.
He nods to Dwalin, who keeps dragging Kili away despite his struggling, while Thorin heads back towards the building. He shields his face from the sparks and flame and pushes through, ignoring the few that try to stop him, shouting out for his oldest nephew. The smoke catches in his throat and the flames roar over his voice, but he keeps low to the ground and strains his stinging eyes for any sight of Fili.
Thorin hears the coughing first, the faint calling out, and then he sees Fili's boots.
"Get down on the ground," Thorin shouts, and Fili hears, dropping to his hands and knees, relief spreading over his face when he sees his uncle coming towards him. Thorin's heart jumps, grateful that he appears unhurt, but seeing the fear in his eyes. Fili was too young when Erebor was taken to remember the dragon's flames. He has only known the steady forge fire, reliable and familiar, not the strange ferocity of this.
Together they crawl towards the door, only narrowly missed by a falling beam that thuds dangerously close to them and showers them with sparks, but they manage to get outside singed but safe. Kili is still nearby, and he finally breaks away from the others and rushes to his brother and his uncle, helping them up and embracing them fiercely, babbling almost incoherently.
"Give them some air, lad," Bofur says, steering them towards the well that others are crowded around, the Men trying to douse the fire with water from their buckets. But the fire is fierce, and it's all they can do to contain the flames and stop them from spreading throughout the entire town.
Thorin watches the blaze lighting the night, setting a fierce red glow against the sky and can't suppress a shudder. His company is safe, but he can't rid himself of the memories of those he lost to Smaug's terror, those he lost along with his yearned for home.