Frodo hears the sound, only quietly squeezes his shoulder with a worn hand, as if he could impart strength, comfort, anything that could be used to help piece together his expression into something brighter. In so many ways does Kili remind him of Pippin, of Merry. So close to his brother, so bright and mischievous. Somehow so young even though he was older. Someone he felt needed looking after as he undoubtedly did.

He holds him like that, save that his curls aren't honey-brown or gold, but dark, braided and wild. Closes his eyes and wonders if he should ask what he feels nagging at him. Frodo could hardly lie and tell him he would see him again if he was from a time before all three of their deaths, something that made him feel more ill than he'd ever been hearing it from Bilbo.

It's with a pause, a sigh, that he find that courage that hasn't abandoned him.

"Kili..what last do you remember? Before arriving here."