Kinkmeme Prompt: Kili's final moments

"Because I'm feeling masochistic, and Kili's delightful WHEEEE ADVENTURE! personality
makes his eventual fate all the more painful.

Bonus points for emphasis on how he is very young and actually quite
frightened despite attempts to seem otherwise. Even more bonus points if one of
the older dwarves is with him and totally devastated over how Kili is very
young and quite frightened despite attempts to seem otherwise. "

So yeah. this is what I came up with.

All Quiet

It was so loud.
He hadn't expected it to be this loud.
The noise of the battle raged around him like white water, as though he was back in the barrel –torrents roaring around him.
Where was Fili? He couldn't hear him. Kili tried to move his head, but it was so hard.
When had that become such a difficult task?
He sat with his back to a rock, the only thing holding him up. He couldn't see Fili. They'd been together only moments ago. Where was Fili?
The young Dwarf tried to shout but the arrow in his chest wouldn't let him.
It was so loud.

He could hear roaring. Clashing of metal and the thick soft thuds of steel on flesh. He could feel a weight against his shoulder, but he couldn't move his head. It was growing heavy.
Kili thought for a moment he could hear his Uncle, screaming in Khuzdul. But the screaming was so unlike his brave Uncle Thorin. This noise sounded broken and desperate. Like nothing he'd ever heard.
It sounded so far away.
And then it faded. Stopped.
Had he heard his name on the wind? In the din of battle.
Where was Fili?
They'd never been apart. Never. Never. He gasped for breath and could feel the arrow. Arrow? Arrows. More than one.
It hurt.
The weight was heavy on his shoulder.
There was something in him that knew what it was.
So loud. He was shivering, shaking. This was nothing like the stories he and his brother had grown up with. Those stories were honour and fire and bravery.
This was noise and coldness and fear.
Was that his name again? Or was it his brothers?
His hand slipped weakly into a hand by his side. Growing colder, it belonged to the weight on his shoulder. He knew this hand.
"Fili, I'm scared."
He squeezed his brothers hand a little tighter.
He couldn't move his head at all now. The noise was not so loud. He waited for his brother to reply.

Dwalin found them.
Brothers Durin side by side. Pierced with arrows and sliced open by cruel swords. Cold and still.
The golden haired boy lay against his brother, sad smile left on a blood-stained face. Hand in hand.
The battle raged on around him but he made his way to the rock, and knelt beside them.
He could see his brother dragging the heavy but still living body of their Uncle out of harm's way but only a few feet away.
"Och, you brave and stupid lads."
In that moment he saw the dark boys eyelids flutter and Kili looked up at him.
"Mr. Dwalin."
"Kili?"
"I don't…. Fili…"
"Shush boy. Don't try to speak…It's.."
But words fail him. He's never been a wordsmith. He's never been one to sugarcoat or tell little white lies. He's seen enough battles to know that the boy is going to die. He looks again at Fili, pale. It should not have been like this. An old warrior holding a dying bairn in his arms. It was all wrong. So wrong.
"Mr. Dwalin, I can't hear him over the noise."
The boy's eyes are unfocused, but shining. He knows that look. Fear.
"You've both fought bravely. They'll be singing songs of this battle someday."
He could see a weak smiled form.
"Your Uncle will be proud of you both… and so will your mother."
Kili's eyes shone a little brighter, and he let out a strangled sob, "We promised… her we'd come home."
"Shush lad—"
"We promised… promised… I wish.. I wish she were here Mr. Dwalin… It's so loud…"
"It'll quieten soon."
Dwalin held Kili's free hand a little tighter. The bairn who should not have left his mother in the first place. Neither of them should.
He was shivering, and Dwalin could do nothing. No action could be taken now. Only words. How the old soldier hated to rely on words.
"It hurts."
"It will. But it'll be over soon."
"I'm scared. I want Fili."
Dwalin brought his forehead to touch that of the boy's. Quiet and gruff, he replied, "The fear will pass, child. If you listen, ignore this racket. He's calling to you. Go to him."
The laboured breathing grew quieter and Kili's eyes, hazy as they were seemed to be focused on a spot past Dwalin's shoulder.
"…..Fili?"
"Go to him, lad."

Dwalin held the boy as he had once, many years ago at the child's beginning; a tiny golden bairn smiling beside him. Now as he held him, them, at the end; he was far too aware of how little time had passed since then.

pg 31