Author's Note: Hi! This will be a two-chapter, Desolation of Smaug AU, with chapter one focusing on Kili and chapter two focusing on Fili. The second chapter should be up sometime within the next day or two.

Many, many thanks to the lovely Gingefish for Beta'ing this story. :)

Reviews are always appreciated.

"The Unlucky Number"

He'd done it. For the first time since he was a little dwarfling of but seven, Kili had successfully lied to his Uncle. Granted, his stoic Uncle Thorin had probably known that Kili had taken two cookies from the crooked vase that Fili had made for their mother that past fall. Still, he'd let the child get away with it.

Thorin watched his nephews closely. It was obvious to him that his youngest nephew was hiding something; most likely that he was obviously infatuated with one of those pointy-eared traitors Mahal curse them. Pacing towards the far end of the rickety boat supplied to them by the men of Laketown, Thorin surveyed his company. After counting all present, he was startled to realize that one of their companions was missing.

Going over their names in his head, it appeared that Bofur had missed the boat. Walking quickly towards the stern, for a King never rushed, Thorin looked back at the port that they had departed from. Standing on the dock, he could just make out a short, stout figure with a large, floppy hat. The smile that had crept onto his face vanished just as suddenly as it appeared as he re-counted his crew. Instead of the company being fourteen, they now numbered thirteen. Thirteen, the very number he had been trying to avoid. Where the figure treaded, very few were lucky enough to escape its wrath. And now he and his companions must face a Fire Drake with the unluckiest of numbers.

Lost in his bittersweet memories, Kili barely noticed his Uncle step past him, muttering something about numbers. It was only when he felt a large, calloused hand rest gently yet firmly on his shoulder did he turn away from the sight of the rugged little town and towards the direction where both his elder brother, Fili, and his homeland lay. As he made his way across the uneven wooden floor, he was very careful not to limp too obviously. He would not miss this chance to see the Halls of his Fathers.

It was slow going up through the mountains. Although Erebor was often called the Lonely Mountain, it was by no means the only steep hill in the region.

It was the brutal terrain that caused Kili's leg to finally give out. Letting out a choice phrase in Khuzdul, he fell to the ground, nearly convulsing in pain. The others let out a collective gasp of shock. It's Fili who catches him (Fili who's always been there to catch him when he stumbled and fell, Fili who's going to sit on the Throne of their Fathers, Fili who will one day be King).

He ever so carefully opens his eyes, the harsh fading light nearly blinding him, and looks at the face in front of him. The sunlight hitting his brother's blond braids gave them a pale orange glow. They are quite kingly, aren't they Kili decides numbly, opening his mouth to try and speak. Instead, he lets out a scream of agony. His eyes slam shut, trying to block out the constant pain (fear, pain, agonyoh please Mahal make it stop make the pain stop please just let it end).He hears the others talking, but everything they say is muffled, muted, as if they sat in another room or down the hall from him.

Everyone is leaving me he thinks trying to focus on one voice, one voice in particular. He hears Bilbo droning soothing nonsense, Thorin gravely inquiring what was wrong, Oin murmuring something medical, but its Fili's voice he is listening for. A voice strangely absent from the muddle of conversation.

He attempted to open his eyes again, searching for Fili (his brother, his friend, the person who would help Mama give him hugs and soup when he was sick, the person who he gave hugs and soup to when Fili was sick). As the blinding light flooded his eyes, he heard a few gasps from the company. He was sure he heard a mumbled "He's awake!" and from somewhere near his feet came Balin's voice, with a muffled "Poor lad…"

A silhouette slowly framed itself, and gradually came into focus. Kneeling in front of Kili was not his elder brother, as he had expected, but rather his uncle; his proud, majestic uncle, who would soon be King under the Mountain once again. Thorin asked him gently, "How do you feel, lad?"

Kili tried to speak normally over the chatter of dwarvish voices, but his voice was quieter than Fili's pet mouse Durín. "Alright, I guess…"

Balin let out a laugh. "Ever the optimist, aren't you, lad?"

But Thorin's face was anything but cheerful. "Why did you not tell me how bad this was?"

Kili winced at his uncle's obvious disappointment, avoiding the powerful stare that seemed to gaze straight through the young dwarf. "I'm sorry Uncle…" he muttered, still avoiding Thorin.

Throughout this strained exchange, Balin had been deep in conversation with Oin. Balin had then walked up behind Thorin, before leaning down to be level with Kili. "Laddie…" he began in the strained voice of a doctor giving ill news. "Well lad, I don't want you to worry one bit, okay? It'll all be alright in a jiffy. Just rest your eyes… an', and it'll all be okay," he said, his voice cracking a bit. The old dwarf's eyes were rather misty by this time, as were Kili's own. It wasn't hard to guess that the dear thing was lying to him, trying to make his last moments comfortable.

Kili let his eyes slide closed again. As he regarded the all-encompassing darkness, he heard another voice, not from the outside world but from a distance memory; a snippet of a conversation he had had with his mother before he had left his home to reclaim their true homeland.

"Kili dear," she had said softly, pressing something into his hand. "Will you make me a promise?"He had readily agreed, too excited about leaving to really understand the gravity of she was about to ask of him.She drew in a breath before continuing, "Just… come home safe, my child.Don't leave your old mother here fretting by the fire all day.Come home, darling.It'd be a nice change for my boys to actually come home safe for once…" she trailed off quietly.

With his last bit of strength, Kili listened intently for a familiar voice… but by now, it was too late. The noises had ceased to be individual voices and were now nothing more than a quiet hum of activity that he could never again see.

He would never see his home, he thought. Never again see the familiar Blue Mountains; never again see the familiar faces that awaited his return- his promise to return.

Mother, I am so sorry, but it seems I am going to break your promise after all.