"I'm going to kill that piece of filth," Thorin resolved, his blood boiling with a murderous hatred so delicious compared to the battle instinct already coursing through him. He turned to find an unburdened ram galloping towards him, and he quickly mounted to assume the head of the charge. From behind him, he heard Dwalin cry, "Lead on." It was blissfully cathartic to hear such solidarity, to know forgiveness for his previous actions, and to ride forth with his friend, heir, and nephew. It was proper.
Then the flashback to another attack on the White Orc filled his mind. "Azog means to kill us all. One by one, he will destroy the Line of Durin. But by my life, he will not take my son," his father had pledged in their last conversation. And by his life, or capture, Azog had not been successful. However, seeing the last two of his male relations riding beside him, was he not now in his father's boots? Did he tell one of his two best warriors to sit out in order to preserve the Line? The chance for success was higher with both Fili and Kili, but it also placed all his kin in one location. As his immediate heir, Fili had the right to be there, to take up the hunt should Thorin fall, but he feared leaving Kili behind. Still, his mind was made up. He steered his ram hard into Kili's path, bringing them both to a sudden halt that would have thrown man or elf, but simply brought the two dwarves face to face.
"Not you, Kili." His nephew made to object, just as he'd done, but he continued on. " I need you to be my representative here. Stand with our kin in my stead, defend our homeland. Will you do that for me?" After the way Kili had stood up to him on the wall, he deserved more respect that a barked order. Thorin saw youthful desires for honor and glory flash in the youth's eyes, but the young dwarf had grown much in the past year and instead bowed his head in acceptance.
"Of course, Uncle. I will see you again when you are successful." Thorin bowed his head as Bofur, nearby, smashed an orc skull.
"Bofur, trade with Kili. Ride with me." His order was followed quickly and Thorin continued on towards Ravenhill and ignored the solemn parting glances between brothers. For now, he was doing the best for his family. He suppressed any lingering fears and turned his mind resolutely to the battle ahead.
Kili swallowed his disappointment as he watched his uncle and brother ride off to finish this familial vendetta. Fili and he had both been raised on the story of the Defeat of the White Orc, and he knew both of them had shared in Thorin's particular anger when the stories proved false. Now, he was to be denied the chance to avenge his great-grandfather and grandfather. However, the battle continued to rage around him, and his uncle and king had asked him especially to fight with their Iron Mountain kin. He turned his attention to that.
Being so young, Kili still had a youth's lankiness and therefore was not yet suited to a battle axe. He was quick with a sword, but more useful assistance was presenting itself. Not far from him, the ground and first of the corpses were scattered with arrows. He sprinted forward, slashing at the odd orc in his way, and quickly filled his quivers with suitable-enough arrows. The tips might be dulled and some of the feathers were ruined or entirely gone, but he would make it work. He cut through a thicker part of the battle to where the mountain sloped upward. It was only a short climb before he could look down at the field. As he notched an arrow, he surveyed the action and saw a pack of orcs converging on Gloin. In quick succession, he let two arrows at his targets, easing the pressure long enough to let Gloin finish his task. It was a temporary relief, but it was enough. He notched another and moved on. This aerial support did not last long, but it was a small advantage for now. Within fifteen minutes, his ammunition was spent, but at least fifty enemies were slain. He ran from his perch and charged into the action. He gathered a few more arrows in the process, but as he reached the thick of things, he abandoned his bow in favor of the sword. Now that the numbers were thinning, he was able to use his speed to advantage. Ground was not quickly gained, but compared to the clumsy and top-heavy orcs, Kili weaved around them with relative ease. Some of his much shorter kin may have had the advantage of being below an orc's line of sight, but he did not feel hindered as he fought.
He pulled his sword from between an orc's ribs and pivoted to find a horde gaining interest in someone. He slashed deep into the kidneys of one and pushed the body onto its companion while jabbing now to his right. He broke through to find Ori barely holding his ground.
"Kili!" Ori panted when he saw him. "I thought you went with Thorin." Kili and Ori lunged past each other almost in synchronized unison as the might have in training to cover each other's backs.
"And leave you all here? I thought we wanted to win," he joked, which got a small smile to ease through Ori's tight-lipped concentration. They finished off the immediate foes and Kili decided they needed to stick together. Through no lack of heart or determination, Ori was more skilled with a smithy's hammer than a weapon, and Kili could tell the battle was taking its toll. His muscles, still recovering from illness, ached with exertion, but in a satisfying way. He could hold on much longer. "Come on, this way," he directed towards Dale. But not two steps forward, all ceased movement as bats burst over Ravenhill. "Fili," he gasped in surprise. The enemy forces tried to gain advantage from the dwarves' surprise, and Kili himself fell as he barely dodged an attack. He slew his foe, and began charging for the mountain road near the city. He needed to help Thorin.
Halfway to his goal, Kili spotted a welcomed blur of red and green. Even in his urgency, he felt a warmth course through him and his heart leapt into his throat. "Tauriel!" he cried over the clamor, and he thought he heard his name reciprocated. He pressed on, though the opposition grew denser the closer he drew towards the city. They met at the fork.
"You're safe," she observed simply as it was all the battle allowed.
"I promised," is all he could muster at that second. A slash, block, and thrust later, and he could continue. "Thorin and Fili are up there. We need to help them. I think they're in danger.""
"They are. Legolas and I arrived just ahead of Gundabad's forces. Bilbo has gone to worn them." Tauriel confirmed. He pushed towards the stairs.
"We must go," he yelled in determined desperation. Tauriel stopped him with a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder. Quickly, she drew something from her pocket, and placed it in his hand. The talisman.
"You kept your promise to me, now let me aid you in the one to your mother. I can travel the road much faster. Let me go in your stead. Legolas is already there."
"I make no such promise. They are my kin. I must defend them. But please, make haste. I shall follow." He thought Tauriel wanted to argue, but she seemed to decide against it, perhaps for time's sake. He was delayed a moment longer by another orc, but then he began his climb. On a ram, this would have taken only a matter of moments, but these were men-sized stairs, and his right leg was still weaker than normal. He quickly wished he could remove the chainmail to ease the burden, but logic kept it in place. Nearing the peak, new orcs began to pour from the hilltop, though they did not look like Gundabad orcs. Perhaps they had not arrived yet. Despite his fatigue, he pushed forward with renewed determination, anxious to find his family. It was tough and slow, but he was resolute and brutal.
As fast as possible, he pushed towards the immobile signal flags that had been their original target. He doubted they were still there, but it was a starting point. He blocked a fierce blow from overhead and felt his knees shake from the force of the orc above him. As he felt he might fail, he fell forward and let the orc crash over him and roll off the rail-less edge, taking an ill-fated comrade with him. Knees still weak, he half crawled, half ran up the rest of the stairs to peer down into the courtyard. The sight chilled his blood. Amidst many slain orcs, there lay a hobbit and a golden-haired dwarf. Without a word, he flew down into the courtyard to his brother. "Fili!" he cried as he dug beneath the bodies stacked atop him. As he pushed away the last foe, his fears were confirmed. He choked back a cry when he saw the gaping, bloody hole in Fili's back. He did not bring himself to look closely, but he didn't need to in order to know it was fatal. He rolled his brother over and judging by the bruising and the unnatural angel of Fili's nose, he'd also fallen from a great height. Tears stung his eyes as he cradled his elder brother's head. He let them fall hot down his face and onto Fili as if they contained the power to heal him. However, a great roar in the distance reminded him of Thorin and the continuing battle. Fili had fallen serving their king, and now he would take up the mantle. He gently laid his brother down before picking up his sword and running in the direction of the noise. He noted passively that Bilbo still breathed.
As he crested the wall overlooking the waterfall, Kili's heart sunk as he saw a blade pierce the ice and heard Thorin's pained cry. He searched for a way down, and thought he saw a staircase some meters away, and he ran for it as fast as he could without taking his eyes off Thorin. How he wished he had his bow. When he was halfway down the staircase, Azog brought his scythed limb down on Thorin who barely managed to block it. Kili involuntarily cried out, gaining both opponents' attention, and he heard Azog laugh darkly and say something unintelligible at this distance. Thorin's face changed, the pain seeming to fall away into a sad calm as he drew his sword aside, letting Azog pierce his chest. Kili screamed with him, and jumped the last few stairs as Thorin plunged his sword into the White Orc, and pushed Azog onto the ice to further drive his sword down into the ice. Kili made it just in time to hear the White Orc's death rattle and see the life leave his eyes.
Despite the blood gushing from his chest, Thorin stood under his own strength and turned to face Kili. "You are safe then," Thorin sighed with almost a smile. His entire posture seemed to relax.
"I am. But come, we need to get help. You need a healer," Kili fretted, dropping his sword and taking Thorin's arm in an attempt to rush him to help, but Thorin, still the stronger of the two, guided Kili gently towards the waterfall edge. Kili tried not to cry in helplessness as the Eagles and Beorn broke the horizon and descended on the Gundabad army only now arriving. "The battle is won, Uncle. Will you not get help now?" Kili pleaded, but Thorin did not indicate he heard him.
"I was foolish and greedy, Kili. I sought riches and brought death upon us all. Though it was not your burden to bear, the Line of Durin continues in you now." Kili tried to stop him, not wanting to hear this, but Thorin ignored him. "There is more I would have taught Fili, and still more I wish to tell you now, but time is running out. Learn from my failures, Kili, and trust yourself. Look to Balin for wisdom, as I did not. Though you are young, you are honorable, and I know you will succeed." Kili was opening sobbing now, and Thorin embraced his youngest nephew. "I am proud of the dwarf you've become and will say that again centuries from now when you join me in the halls of our ancestors." Kili hugged him back, but was nearly pulled to the ground as Thorin groaned and collapsed in pain. Kili did his best to ease him onto the ice and noted how much greater the blood was. His tears stopped as fear now seized him. A second figure joined them, but he did not register who until Thorin spoke.
"Bilbo, I'm glad you're here. I wish to part with you in friendship," Thorin said, his words coming out more forced now as pain overwhelmed him.
"You're not going anywhere, Thorin, you're going to live." His desperation pained Kili even deeper and he tightly gripped Thorin's hand, earning a reassuring grasp in return.
"I take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. I was too blind to see. I'm sorry that I've led you into so much peril, both of you," he added to Kili. The nephew could find no more words, but Bilbo skillfully said what they both meant.
"No, I'm glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin, each and every one of them. That is far more than any Baggins deserves."
"Farewell Master Burglar," he almost laughed and Kili felt his hand begin to lose strength and fall. "Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees. Watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place." He coughed and gave Kili's hand a final squeeze before it went completely limp. Kili let out a pent up sob.
"No, no, no, Thorin, don't you dare." Grief soon consumed the hobbit, and the two mourned in the relative safety of the dying battle.
Kili's tears stopped first as the cold ice crept through him and his pain grew into a cold, shocked numbness. Without letting go of Thorin's hand, he fell from his knees into a slumped sitting posture and just studied his uncle. Unlike Fili who was visibly battered, besides the blood, Thorin did not look like he should be dead. There was an irrational part of him that expected Thorin to let out a groan, clutching his chest, and swearing for a healer, scolding him for being so daft to think him done. He just couldn't quite fathom that one second he had been alive, and the next was not. It didn't make sense emotionally.
He sat there when Bilbo, sobs turning to hiccups, left, saying something about leaving them alone. He sat there when the elves and men came up the hill to search for survivors or lingerers. And he sat there when Dwalin and Bofur voiced their shock at seeing their slain leader. It was only when the two bent a knee that he looked up.
"May your axe strike true and your forges forever burn, Kili, son of Dis, King Under the Mountain," they chanted in unison, taking up the sacred language of their ancestors. Kili let their words bounce off him, refusing to consider their gravity and implication.
"We need to carry him down," he croaked. "And Fili." It was something that could be done for them, and he clung to that. The elves were now swarming the hill, so Dwalin and Bofur sheathed their weapons and lifted their former king onto their shoulders as Kili led the way to Fili.
As their sad procession passed, many elves paused and gave a small bow as they spoke some Elven phrase Kili did not understand. He noted though that a certain elf maid was not amongst them. A burst of panic bloomed, and he stopped a passing solider.
"Do you know where Tauriel is?" he asked quickly. The soldier thought for a moment before remembering.
"She is being escorted to camp by Prince Legolas. She was badly injured." Kili thanked him and let the numbness resume. She was alive. That's all he needed for now. When they reached the courtyard, elves were already clearing the bodies. It would be a lengthy task, and was best started immediately. As the procession reached the final steps, two elves reach for Fili, grasping him by his wrists and ankles.
"Don't touch him!" Kili yelled in possessive anger. "That's my brother. Don't touch him." He ran the rest of the way and pushed the elves away who did not take offense to this grief. They merely offered their condolences and moved on with their task. Kili repositioned Fili into a more restful posture before trying to pick him up. Fili weighed a stone more than Kili, and under all current circumstances, he struggled to pick him up. Trying again, Kili leaned Fili over his shoulder and tried to stand, but his legs wobbled and he almost fell until a pair of hands caught him and guided him all the way up. When he was steady, Kili looked up at King Thranduil. He didn't know what to say.
"I will carry him if you'd rather, my King under the Mountain." Kili felt himself begin to shake. It really was too much.
"Thank you, but I must do this myself."
"Then allow me to clear your way." A small voice in the back of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Thorin reminded him that his was probably a political ploy, but Kili could only be so proud right now. He just wanted to get his kin off this forsaken hill. And so, that is what he did. For his part, Thranduil escorted them all the way to Erebor, steading Kili when he stumbled, and kept the crowd away. Word must have spread ahead of them, because when they reached the Great Hall, two cots were waiting for them. Thorin and Fili were gently laid down and then Kili and Dain were left alone with their relations. There was work that needed doing, civilizations to rebuild, alliances to navigate, but all the young king could do now was tend to his brother and uncle, and no one could criticize that.
A/N: Obvious disclaimer: I do not own these characters by any means.
Yes, this is another AU ending. It's not that I don't like what Tolkien wrote and Jackson portrayed (I actually admire him for being willing to make such a decision), but in the movies, Kili seemed like a more natural heir than Fili, who seemed more content to be a warrior and follow Thorin. With that, I want to explore what would happen when this still very young character is suddenly thrust into a place of glory and faced with the enormous task of rebuilding a kingdom he has never seen. This will also include the budding romance with Tauriel, as that cannot be ignored, but I'm not sure yet how that will go. There is a whole lot going on after all.
One other disclaimer. I have not read the book, or really any of Tolkien's writings. I read the first half of Return of the King (put it aside when Frodo and Sam were in the Dead Marsh), and that's it. This will draw primarily on the movie-verse, but I have been doing as much research as possible in an attempt to stay as true as possible to Tolkien's amazingly rich creation. However, as I understand it, a lot of Dwarf culture is very secretive and is not revealed to the reader, even in the appendices. Therefore, I will take some liberties, such as the acknowledgment of a new king above, and I apologize if it conflicts with something that has been established in a book, but has not appeared in my Internet searches. Please bear with me. Thank you!