Kings and Masters

First off, I own nothing, of course. I had originally started this story back in November, but after seeing the movie, I went back and made some changes so that it reflects what happened, with some obvious changes which you'll see when you read it. Once again, as with all my fics, this story is in no way cannon. If you are against that kind of thing, consider this your warning.

Warning: Major spoilers from the movie! The Durin's survive but Fili and Kili are seriously wounded and Thorin must get them help. Since Erebor is in no condition to handle casualties and neither is Dale or Lake-town, Oin had set up a triage center in a lakeside mansion that belongs to the Lake-town master (who in this scenario, managed to survive Smaug's assault). But as the Durins recover in this mansion, they discover that the Lake-town master has some mysteries of his own.

Kili's heart stood still when he saw his brother's broken body before him. A thousand thoughts went through his mind. His brother, his Fili has just been taken from him. The orcs had just robbed him of his very soul. At that moment, Kili too had ceased to live.

He had heard the commotion from where he had been hiding, was down below the fortress at Ravenhill. Thorin had sent them to the fortress to scout for the enemy, a task normally assigned to them and one that they did well. He and his brother had separated and now he was berating himself for letting it happen. He had gone below and Fili had gone above. He was exploring the area around him when he heard his uncle's cry from above and across the deep ravine. The one word out of Thorin's mouth froze Kili in his tracks. "Fili!" in that moment, Kili's whole world turned on end. He ran to the stone opening and tried to crane his head up to see what was above him. But he couldn't. He could hear though. The shuffling of metal and the pounding of feet as the orcs stood at the top of the complex and grinned at Thorin and Dwalin who stood on the plateau, too far away to do anything but watch.

Despite the distance, Thorin tried to get to his nephew. He paced back and forth at the ledge like a caged bull. His eyes were wide with terror as he fixated on his eldest nephew who dangled helplessly in the pale orc's cruel grip. He growled in desperation and in agony, knowing that Azog was about to rob him of his heir.

"Run, Thorin!" Fili choked out, his body already hurting from the abuse he had suffered upon capture. He had tried to fight, but was surrounded and overpowered. He was going to die, he knew this. He didn't see Azog pull out his sword but he saw Thorin scream his name. He knew what was coming before he felt it. He locked eyes with his uncle, one last time.

Azog drove the sword into the side of the blonde dwarf and Fili cried out in pain. His body erupted in pain and his knees buckled. He was being held up completely by the pale orc.

Fili was thrown from the ledge and landed on his back just out of reach of his brother. Kili felt tears well up in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to run to his fallen brother laying right in front of him. But they were still up there and they'd see him if he came out of where he was hiding. They'd catch him and kill him just as they had done to Fili. Kili wasn't too afraid of that possibility. He was dead inside now anyway. But there was something he needed to do first. He had to survive long enough to take revenge for his brother. They had taken his Fili from him, and now Kili would take their lives. All of them, as many as he could catch. Then, and only then, could he join his brother.

With a mighty war cry worthy of a son of Durin, Kili charged up the ramparts towards the orcs above. The orcs reacted to him immediately and charged to meet him. He wasted the first few of them as soon as they reached him, slicing one in half and beheading the other. He let his raw emotions drive him. He growled and roared as he ran up onto the upper level of the complex. With every kill, he worked himself into a fighting frenzy spurred on by hate, anger, and the need for revenge.

Once at the top, Kili caught sight of Thorin and Dwalin on the plateau a distance away. His uncle was trying to get to him, he knew, but he was being prevented from getting to the complex by the pale orc. Kili gasped when he saw Azog charge Thorin and the two engage in a desperate hand to hand combat. But he had his own battle. He had to trust that Thorin would be victorious.

Kili dropped all the orcs that came to him. After awhile, they stopped coming. He panted, adrenaline surging through his body. When he whirled around, looking for more orcs to fell, he came face to face with Bolg, son of Azog. The large gangly orc approached menacingly, sword at the ready. Kili took a breath and approached, his own sword ready. The two circled one another, locking gazes, feeling a cold mutual hatred for one another.

The grotesque orc attacked first. He charged Kili, but the dwarf swiftly dodged out of the way and landed an attack of his own. He swung his sword but Bolg turned and blocked with his own. He grabbed the little dwarf and flung him hard into the wall of the complex. Kili grunted, the wind knocked out of him from the impact, but he was on his feet before Bolg could reach him, ready to continue the fight.

This carried on for awhile; block, perry, dodge, swipe. Kili found himself getting tired after awhile. The massive orc was very strong and large and a challenge for a small dwarf. Wounds and bruises appeared all over his body as Bolg threw him and kicked him with every opening he got.

But Kili wasn't finished quite yet. Just as his uncle had faced down the pale orc in battle long ago, and just as he was doing so again at this very moment, Kili was holding his own. He was proving his might in battle. He would not be an easy kill for this orc.

It came down to the last assault. The orc was surprisingly cut up, Kili had landed a hit on his giant arm and across his face. Black blood spilled into his eye as he turned on the dwarf and prepared for a kill.

Kili was in much worse shape. He limped, he could hardly stay upright. He felt the intense agony of cracked ribs and he tasted blood in his mouth. But he was still standing. As the orc charged him, Kili braced himself. He watched as the orc barreled towards him at lightning speeds. Then, just as Bolg raised his sword to finish the dwarf off, Kili dodged out of the way. The next move was his. He thought about his brother, his uncle, and everything this orc had done to him and his family. He swung his sword with every inch of strength he had, so hard that when his blade impacted with Bolg's arm, he sliced it clean off, and his own arm sprained from the sheer force.

Kili winced as he watched with satisfaction as Bolg roared in agony and surprise. Black blood spurted from the stump that was now what was left of his right arm. Kili moved back and watched as the orc knelt on the ground, cradling his injury. The dwarf gripped his sword, ignoring the pain that shot up his arm. He moved in for the killing blow. As he approached, the orc glared up at him.

"This is for my brother, Orc Filth," Kili growled, his voice low and dangerous, "Imrid amrad ursul!" Kili raised his sword above his head, ready to bring it down on Bolg's massive head... but as he did so, Bolg suddenly produced a dagger from his belt and darted forward, burying the blade deep into Kili's stomach.

Kili gasped as pain spread through him. He glanced down at the dagger now stuck in his gut. He looked forward and met Bolg's gaze. Mutual hatred burned in both expressions. Bolg still had his remaining hand on the hilt of the knife. Kili mustered up the strength and as Bolg yanked the dagger out of Kili's body, the dwarf swung his sword one last time and impaled it in the orc's face.

Bolg and Kili both collapsed backwards. When Kili weakly rolled onto his side, he felt satisfied when he saw the lifeless body of Bolg, son of Azog laying before him.

Blood flowed from the gaping wound in Kili's stomach. He gripped the wound as he struggled up to his knees. He was dying; he knew this. He could feel the life draining from him just as his blood stained the frozen stone below him. But he couldn't go now. Not here. He rolled onto his knees and hands and began to drag himself forward, heading back down the way he had come.

Kili crawled down below the complex. He moved slowly, every inch was agony. The effort took every bit of strength he had. He tasted blood in his mouth. But finally, he made it back to his brother. Fili lay where he had fallen in the snow. His body was cold, as cold as death. Kili crawled to him and lay his head on his brother's chest. Now, he could go, he thought. Now that he was with his brother. He lay there, listening to the world around him. He waited for the darkness to descend. He thought of Thorin. He wished he could see his uncle one last time, but he had finished what he set out to do and now he could join Fili.

As Kili finally gave into the darkness, he was unaware of the very faint thump underneath him. The soft, very weak, but steady beating of Fili's heart.

Chapter two

Thorin fought Azog with everything he had. For everything this vile orc had done to him and his family, for everything it had planned to do, Thorin swung his sword for everything he had suffered. The pale orc had killed his grandfather in front of him long ago, and now, he had robbed Thorin of his heir, his eldest nephew.

As much as Thorin wanted to finish Azog, to fight to the death and be rid of this vile filth once and for all, Thorin was more concerned with his last remaining nephew. He knew the orcs were hunting Kili, were trying to hurt him.