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"Rega! Follow me!" I heard Uncle's voice calling from across the battlefield. I ran towards Thorin and my brothers, stabbing, beheading, and disemboweling orcs on my way. By the time I reached them, my blade was stained black with orc blood. We ran for Ravenhill and luckily reached our destination somewhat unscathed.
The orcs began to close in. More and more kept coming. Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli formed a defensive ring around me, so I couldn't even reach my knife out to help. My blade longed to sink itself into some orc flesh, feel the satisfying resistance of their thick skins under my hand. I attempted, and failed, to push my way past my uncle and brothers. "Stay back!" Fíli yelled, turning his head back to look at me.
And that's when it happened. The orc closest to him sliced his neck as soon as he was distracted. Fíli turned back around, only to watch the orc stab him through the stomach. He fell into my arms, choking up his own red blood. A tear fell on his face.
"Rega," he breathed, "I love..." His words stopped, and I was left staring into the blank, lifeless eyes of my oldest brother who was lying dead in my arms.
"Fíli," I choked, sobbing. I screamed, pounding my gloved fist against the ice-covered ground. "NO!"
Looking up, I saw Thorin run after another orc. Kíli and I were alone, being backed closer and closer to the edge of the frozen waterfall. "Let me help!" I screamed, and Kíli finally nodded before focusing back on the enemies. I took one last look down at Fíli's face. His blank, blue eyes were surrounded by smile lines, and his mouth was frozen forever in a sweet smirk. My grief was changed to anger. I drew my blade and ran into the fight.
I heard Thorin's unmistakable yell across the battlefield. I looked up to see him fall as an orc's arrow pierced his chest. "Thorin!" My voice wasn't strong enough. I ran over to his side.
He was waiting for me. "Tell Kíli..." He paused to cough. "...that I think he will make a great king." With that, Beorn came, took my uncle in his arms, and carried him away. I shed another tear before running back to Kíli's side.
He was struggling against the orcs attacking him. I rushed in to help, but he pushed me behind him. "Stay there!"
He managed to fend off the orcs for long enough for me to reach Fíli again and drag him to a safer place. I looked into his blue eyes one last time before running back to help Kíli.
By the time I reached my brother, I knew something was wrong. The orcs were all gone, but Kíli was laying on the icy ground, alone. Snow was starting to fall, creating a filmy blanket covering him. His eyes were closed, and he was grimacing. I waited to see the familiar rise and fall of his chest, but it never came. I pressed my ear to his chest, and heard nothing. I closed my eyes, refusing to believe that both of my brothers- my best friends- were gone. Never coming back. My head bowed to my chest, and then I was laying next to Kíli loudly sobbing. My heart was breaking- being ripped slowly and painfully apart by those orcs that had killed my brothers and my uncle. I opened my mouth and let out a scream of anguish and grief.
I slowly got up onto my knees and took a deep breath. Squeezing my eyes shut, I stood and let one more tear fall.
It landed on Kíli's cheek, right next to his nose. I crouched over and kissed his smooth forehead. It was still warm, despite the layers of ice and snow covering his I remembered. "Uncle said you would make a great king," I breathed.
I half dragged, half carried him over to Fíli.