Dwalin looked up as he heard more dwarves stumble into the camp. He searched anxiously for a head of graying black hair, but was met with disappointment. He sighed and went back to watching the fire. If it was up to him, he would be heading the search parties on the battle field, but of course he had to take an arrow to the leg and was being forced to sit and recover.

Balin looked over to his brother when he heard the heavy sigh. The battle had ended barely three hours ago, and multiple search parties were on the field looking for their king and the rest of the missing members of the company. They were missing quite a few. Earlier they had found Bofur's hat, but no dwarf under it. Nori hadn't been seen since the beginning of the battle, as well as Bifur and Gloin. The three sons of Durin hadn't been spotted since Thorin attacked Azog. And, of course, no one had seen the hobbit since the day before. Balin had scoured the elf and man's camp for the lad, but was nowhere to be found.

The two brother's heard shuffling outside the ring of tents, and watched as healers dragged in none other than Nori.

"Nori!" Balin internally winced at Ori's frantic cry for his older brother when he saw the thief being half carried between two other dwarves. He and Dori ran to take their brother from the healers and lead him to a tent set aside for those of Thorin's Company.

"Did you see any sign of the king? Or the sons of Dis?" Balin stood and asked the dwarves. The two Iron Hill healers looked solemnly at each other.

"Aye," the taller of the two answered. "They is carrying King Thorin over as we speak." He shook his head. "It doesn't look too great."

Balin felt his face pale and his brother tensed beside him. "How bad?" he asked breathlessly.

"See for yourself," the two dwarves stepped aside to reveal a stretcher being carried between four men.

"Thorin!" Dwalin gasped out roughly when he saw his friend. No, not his friend. His king, his brother, his confidant, the one to always have his back. "No," Dwalin shook his head in denial as the stretcher was carried into a tent marked with Thorin's insignia. He stood and hobbled over to where Balin was watching them with a grieved countenance. "Brother," He choked out. Balin turned.

"I know, Nadad. I know." he whispered sorrowfully.

"We need to find the boys," Dwalin swallowed heavily. "Thorin won't last much longer and they need to see their uncle…their father before…before he…" Dwalin shook his head, unable to say the words. Balin laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. "I know, brother. I will go search myself. Tell the others to come join me if they are able."

Dwalin nodded and grabbed the hand on his shoulder. "I'm just glad it wasn't you, Nadad." He whispered mournfully. Balin tightened his grip on his little brother. "As am I, Nadadith."

Balin left the camp, and Dwalin hesitantly made his way to the deep blue and gold tent. He watched the silhouettes of healers move around inside before slowly parting the front flaps and stepping into the tent. Blue eyes instantly met his deep brown, and Dwalin fought to hold back a sob at the immense pain in them.

Thorin nodded at the dwarrowdams bustling around them, and they left the two alone. Dwalin watched Thorin for any sign that he still had the…sickness, and almost cried with relief when his gaze was met with clear sapphire eyes. He carefully made his way to the chair beside the cot Thorin was laying on, and sat down before his injured leg could give out.

They said nothing for a few moments, merely taking strength from the presence of the other dwarf. Eventually Dwalin looked up to see Thorin watching him.

"Dwalin," Thorin started but Dwalin interrupted him. "Shut up Thorin. I don't want your apologies." Thorin frowned but closed his mouth anyways.

"I don't want to think about that right now. I want to think about the real Thorin I know, the strong, loyal one. The Thorin that would do anything for his nephews and sister. The Thorin that always has my back." Dwalin bowed his head over Thorin's hand. "The only reason I didn't leave you was because I knew that the real Thorin was in there, fighting underneath the gold and idiocy taking over your mind."

"I did act like a royal idiot, didn't I?" Thorin said with a quiet chuckle.

"Aye, you did." Dwalin smiled. "But then again, when haven't you?"

Thorin half-heartedly hit dwalin's arm. "Shut up you," then his face grew serious. "Dwalin, where are my nephews? Are they alright?"

Dwalin bowed his head slightly. "No one has seen the boys. Last I saw, they were fighting Azog after you fell. Balin is looking for them now."

Thorin rested his head back on the pillows. "Mahal…Dwalin, if…if I…leave…before they are found, make sure they…that you tell them…that they know how much…how much I love them. And how proud of them I am, and always have been. They need to know how honored I am to be the one to have raised them into the fine dwarrows they are now, and how sorry I am that I don't get to watch them finish out their lives."

Thorin closed his eyes as I tear rolled down his cheek. He reached a hand up to his neck, and slowly pulled out two small lockets Dwalin had never seen before. He unclasped them and clutched them to his heart before closing Dwalin's hand over them. "Give these to them. Tell them…to keep their promise."

Dwalin nodded and put the lockets in his coat pocket. He was about to leave when Thorin's voice called him back. "I need to talk to the halfling Dwalin. I treated him unfairly and must make amends with him before it is too late."

Dwalin put his hand on Thorin's shoulder, carefully avoiding the bloody bandages. "If it makes you feel any better, brother, I know for a fact that a lad such as Bilbo Baggins would've forgiven you without a thought. But we will find him, and you will get to say the first apology of your life."

Thorin nodded gratefully, but then Dwalin's words caught up with his sluggish mind. "Thank you…wait, what? I have too apologized before!" but Dwalin was already ducking out of the tent.

o.o.o.o.o.O.O.O.O.O.O..0.O.O.O.O.O.o.o.o.o.o

Balin was losing hope, and fast. He turned over corpse after bloody corpse with the tip of his red-stained sword, and each time he was severely disappointed. They had started their search near the spot Thorin fell, and spread outwards from there. They had found Bofur, however. He was relatively unharmed, but had been unable to walk to the camp due to the mutilated orc corpses squashing him into the ground.

The tired dwarf turned over a few more bodies, peered into a few more different faces, but then a gleam of brown caught his eye. He hurried over to where he had seen it, and pulled out a familiar broken bow from under the body of an overly-large goblin. He grasped the bow to his chest before returning to his search with renewed energy. Kili was never far from his bow, and Fili was never far from Kili.

Suddenly, a yell went up directly behind Balin. He whipped around and bolted over to stocky dwarf kneeling by the two brothers.

Balin's old heart shattered at the sight he was met with. The first thing he saw was the matted golden locks of Fili. He looked to be unharmed, with only a few scratches here and there. He was curled around another figure, one with dark, stringy hair. Kili's milky eyes stared unseeingly into his brother's tear-stained face. Blood was smeared over his young features, and a wince of pain was still etched into his brow. Balin then noticed the spear protruding evilly from the younger dwarf's back, and instantly realized what had happened.

Kili and Fili had been fighting together, back to back as they had since Kili could barley lift a sword. Kili must have somehow become distracted, and the result was gaining a spear in his back. When he fell, Fili went down with him, and held his brother as the light died in his eyes. Then, even though he was unharmed, Fili left the world as well, not even wanting to bear the thought of living without the second half of his soul. Even in death, they were inseparable. Fili had his arms wrapped protectively around his little brother, and Kili's fists were clenched unmoving in his brother's hair.

"They must be put in a room together," Balin finally managed to choke out. "Under no circumstances are they to be separated." Then, unable to bear the sight of the two princes of Erebor any longer, he left the battle field to grieve alone.

So ended the line of Durin.

AN: R&R, yeah? The more reviews I get, the sooner I might update my other story...