Fili, with one arm hanging limp at his side, stumbled over the fallen bodies of orcs, goblins and wargs. Gandalf and others were tending to his uncle. He needed to find his brother. The last he had seen him was when Kili had no doubt saved his life by shooting an arrow into the skull of a goblin that had been far too close to Fili. He'd been doing his best to assist his uncle, and had failed to protect himself, and failed to keep an eye on his little brother.

He opened his mouth to call out to him, but then he spotted him, laying ten feet away. One hand out stretched toward him. "Kili," His eyes were open, and for one moment Fili had hope, they were fixed on him, staring at him.

But they were unseeing. Kili had died protecting him, and had watched until he'd taken his last breath. Fili sunk down to his knees beside his brother's body, his clothing was soaked with blood and a dagger protruded from his back. "Brother," he choked out clutching him to his chest. Kili could not be dead. Fili was supposed to keep him safe, that was his job, had always been his job, from the moment he'd been born. He watched out for his baby brother.

He had failed. Fili pressed his face into his brother's hair and a pained sob escaped him.

The battle was over, Thorin was mortally wounded, and without Kili by his side, Fili didn't know how he would possibly take one more breath. He lifted his head and looked down at Kili, and then brought his hand up to close his brother's lids. "My brother," he whispered.

Fili heard a sound behind him before he felt the slice of the blade, sharp, and stinging. He sucked in abruptly and felt the blood fills his lungs and soak the front of his shirt. Fili's hand found Kili's fallen sword, he spun in a blur of movement and thrust the blade through the chest of an already wounded Orc. The Orc fell backward with a cry of pain and Fili turned back to Kili. With his failing strength he drew his brother into his arms and held him tightly against his chest as the cold and dark surrounded him.

Fili breathed in a slow, deep breath. The air was clean, fresh, not tainted with the scent of blood and beast. His mind immediately went to his brother, to holding his broken body. He didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to face a world without Kili. The sun was warm on his face and he heard a scuffle of movement. He wondered where he was and what had happened. He'd remembered the Orc attacking him, he'd been sure he was dead.

Slowly he cracked open one eye, then the other, the sky was a beautiful shade of blue above him. His body did not ache, not a twinge of pain and he'd known he'd suffered many injuries, cuts, bruises and a few broken ribs, and he was certain a dislocated shoulder.

As he inhaled again he wondered what magic had healed him. He blinked and heard the same scuffle of noise again. He sat up slowly, testing his body but he was in perfect condition. The sound came again, louder now and Fili looked toward it.

Kili stood before him, grinning, clean and uninjured. Fili's breath caught in his throat. "You're here." Kili smiled. "I waited," Kili stepped toward him and in a heartbeat Fili was on his feet and had closed the distance between them and yanked his brother into a bone crushing hug. Kili hugged him back just as tightly, then leaned back slightly to look at him. "I wondered if you would..." his smile faltered a bit. "I would have waited no matter how long it took."

"I didn't watch your back," Fili said, one hand cupping Kili's face. "It's my fault-" his eyes searched his brother's face, not a scratch nor bruise. Nothing but that grin that crinkled his eyes.

"No, it isn't. You've always watched out for me, it was my turn." Kili tugged him in for another tight hug. "Come, Uncle will be here soon."