The sun had just begun to rise above the horizon. Thorin rested peacefully in his bed, but not dreaming. His mind was blank and he was at peace. Fili, his waist still tightly bandaged, walked in quietly. He had long since healed but Oin was worrisome. Fili walked over to his resting form and shook him gently.
"Uncle? Uncle Thorin, wake up." He whispered. Thorin groaned lowly and his eyes fluttered open. Fili smiled. "Good morning."
"Good morning my dear nephew." Thorin spoke softly, his voice deep from the sleep. He returned the smile and sat up, wincing a little. "How was your night?" He asked. Fili started to braid his beard like he used to when he was but a child.
"It was well." Fili replied and continued. Thorin gently laid his forehead on his and whispered,
"You will make a glorious king one day, my dear Fili. More glorious than I can ever be." Fili looked at him in awe and smiled cheekily. "Th-thank you Uncle." He added. Slowly swings his legs off the bed and looks at him with concern.
"Fili, how is it?" He asked gently. Fili dropped his eyes, but nodded truthfully.
"It is sore, but I am fine." Fili answered and hugged Thorin's neck. "It's alright Uncle."
A man rode his horse and stopped at the main gate of Dale. He looked up to the guard and called,
"Dear guardsmen, have a moment to spare for a message for the master." The guard nodded and drew back the gates. The man got down from his horse and handed the guard a notice. The guard nodded and took it. Soon after, the man left and the guard handed the notice to the master, Bard.
Bard took it and read it slowly, then read it again, and then even a third time. Quickly, he stood.
"Who has given this to you for me?" He asked, concern. The notice wasn't good and it scared him.
"A rider from the North, sire. He brings the message from the Shire." Bard nodded him off and sighed. He read the letter once again and called for his horse. Then, he set out for the mountain.