I couldn't resist tackling Thorin, Kili and Fili's wakening, so I managed to write it sometime during the night! ^^ I'm not too sure where this is heading yet, so it may be a while before I update the story again, but I'll try and keep it up! :)

Thorin felt cold. At first he'd thought it was because he was no longer living, knowing corpses tended to lose their body warmth. It was a shock to actually realize that he felt cold. If he could feel cold, that meant that he was still alive, that some parts of his senses were still functioning.

The last thing he could remember was a burning pain in his chest, as Azog's arm had pierced right through him, and Bilbo next to him, begging against the cruel strings of faith for the dwarf to fight, to stay alive.

Thorin could vaguely remember himself go lax, his body having become unresponsive, his senses going numb before shutting down completely. He could recall his blurry eyes closing, embracing the darkness. And he thought he could recall something else, but it was still a little fuzzy. It had been some kind of sound, a beastly noise, a roar. Or at least, he thought he'd heard it, maybe it had been a trick of his own brain.

Nevertheless, the fact that he could process these thoughts meant that he wasn't dead, that he was, in fact, still very much alive, as he could feel himself draw breath. As if to make sure he was in some form of consciousness, Thorin ordered his fingers to move-and he managed to flex them-flex them! Overjoyed in finding that he, apparently, still had some form of control over his body, Thorin allowed himself to utter a sob, a sob of relief. He was alive!

Next, the dwarf tried controlling other parts of his body, namely his eyes. Those too were still in order, as wishing he could see the sky once more, his eyelids opened, and Thorin thought he could make out firmament stretching out high above him. If he could both feel and see, then he was now convinced that he was alive. It came after to his arms, which he found most heavy, but with the willpower only dwarves possessed, Thorin managed to lift a shaking limb, and his frozen hand could now be seen in front of him.

This was indeed looking good.

He decided to skip lifting his other arm, judging he could probably try and get to his knees at least. It was a slow process, gaining control over cold limbs, parts of him that should have been long dead, but as long as he drew breath, and not willing to die again anytime soon, Thorin pushed himself, until he managed to position himself on his knees. This new stance allowed him to cast a glance at his surroundings.

All around him were indeed trees, dead trees, which had lost their leaves many moons ago, judging by how bare they looked. Underneath him, the snow crunched, as his body still gave some light jerky movements, and looking around, Thorin found that, indeed, the snow seemed to stretch far off, beyond the horizon. However, this was not Ravenhill. There were no trees there, only one enormous mountain. His foggy mind seemed to suddenly evaporate all the unneeded clouds still in there, and the dwarf repeated out loud what he'd just realized, as if trying to convince himself.

"This is not Ravenhill." Thorin looked around frantically, where was he? He could feel his breaths coming out in short gasps again, as the feeling of not knowing where he was unsettled him. He was alive, but not at Ravenhill. How could that be?

Eyes darting around wildly, Thorin scanned the area, desperate to find there something in the scenery than might give him an indication as to where he might be. He definitely wasn't captured, orcs not leaving their prey out in the open, but something told him the rest of his company wasn't anywhere near either, or they would be crowding around him. Again, Thorin looked back and forward again, and back-

His eyes stopped on a mop of dark brown hair, not ten feet away from him. Squinting his eyes, which had slowly begun to regain their focus, the silhouette lying there morphed into one very familiar dwarf. As he took in the golden armor, and the bow lying just next to it, there was only one person that could possibly be.

Kili!

Instinct's took over, and Thorin found himself rushing over to his fallen kin, who hadn't moved in the slightest since he'd laid eyes on him. Kili had died in that battle, Thorin had been so sure of it, why play such a dirty trick on him now? As his eyes fell on the peaceful face of his youngest nephew, Thorin drew the few strands of runaway hair back and trailed his hand along Kili's face, stroking it lovingly, from cheek to neck. Only to feel a pulse.

Thorin didn't dare believe it. Could it be true? Desperate for confirmation, he steadied his hand at the base of the brown haired dwarf's neck and waited. There it was again, a pulse! He was alive! Kili was alive too!

Overjoyed, Thorin couldn't bear to part from his nephew, and rubbed comforting circles with his thumb on the lad's shoulder, letting him know he was there, that Uncle was just beside him, that he had nothing to fear. To his delight, he could also feel the breathing even out, and become more steady, and before he knew it, Kili's eyes were open, and looking up at him once more.

"Uncle?' Kili hesitated, disbelieving. Hadn't he died?

The archer managed to push himself up, despite feeling a little stiff in his limbs, and looked down, surprised not to find a gaping wound in his chest, where Bolg's stake had plunged into him, cutting off his breath.

"I'm here Kili. We're alive. Somehow, we're alive" Thorin whispered into his nephew's hair, as he drew him up into a warm embrace. How he wished he'd done this before sending them off into battle, how he'd wished he'd shown his two boys just a little more affection, as all good uncle should have. Maybe he could mend it now, if they were indeed given another chance at life. If the great Mahal had taken pity upon him and his broken family, allowing him a second opportunity, he would not waste it.

"Where are we?" Kili's question was muffled, as he had his head buried deep in his Uncle's chest, but his voice held no trace of fear. Actually, there was almost some hope in the tone.

"I don't know, Kili." Thorin spoke gently, marveling in the fact that he had his nephew back, his precious little boy was here, alive. "But we're not anywhere near Ravenhill, that is certain." He thought of letting it slip now, not seeing any point in lying to Kili. Besides he'd see for himself eventually that they weren't anywhere they were remotely familiar with.

Kili drew back at his Uncle's words, not at Ravenhill? Then where were they? True the lad could feel it in the air, he'd never been here before, but the archer was almost surprised at feeling almost calm, his soul held no fear whatsoever. He didn't understand, remembering his last moments having been so difficult for him, realizing he'd never live the life he'd wished for alongside Tauriel. He'd thought he'd be facing death alone, that once he closed his eyes, he'd be forever by himself, yet Uncle was here with him now. The thought of being someplace foreign suddenly wasn't as terrifying as it had seemed just a moment ago, knowing he wasn't alone anymore.

As Thorin comforted his younger nephew, he looked around once more. If Kili was here, then surely Fili was too, right? And if Kili was alive…

His eyes scanned around once more, desperate to see a second familiar face, as he clutched Kili tighter to him. Sure enough, a little off to the side, Thorin was sure he could see a mop of blonde hair sprawled out on the ground, and a small figure attached too it. Kili saw it too, and immediately shot up.

"Is that-?" But the lad didn't even finish his question, as both Durins sprang to their feet, rushing over to the familiar third figure, who still lay unconscious in the snow.

Sure enough, it was Fili, Thorin's eldest nephew. As the dwarf king crashed to his knees next to his other sister-son, his hands frantically proceeded the same way they'd done with Kili, settling themselves on a small neck after brushing blonde hair aside. Despite the frozen skin, Thorin wanted to cry in relief when he thought he felt a pulse. It may have been small but it was there, Fili was breathing!

"Uncle, is he-?" Kili started, not too sure what his Uncle's face meant. He hoped, oh he really hoped, that like Thorin and he, his brother had been allowed to live once more, Fili hadn't deserved to die the way he had, and life without his shadow would be so lonely. Kili couldn't even fathom facing a future where his brother wouldn't be at his side.

"Mahal! He's alive Kili!" his Uncle tried not to sound too eager, but this was a miracle, having his family back in one piece, seeing them breathing once more. Eyes sweeping over his still unconscious nephew, Thorin was relieved to see that, like Kili, the gaping wound Azog had inflicted on Fili as he'd held him up by his neck seemed to have just disappeared, there was no sign of any blade having pierced his nephew's chest.

The dwarf thanked the Maker, for letting him taste life again, and letting him be reunited with his two beloved sister's sons. This was more than he deserved, but Thorin would not throw this turn of events away, not when he had a chance to bring the Durins back together again. Mahal had given him threads, now it was up to him to sew them once more.

Fili's world had gone black, numb, when he'd felt the excruciating pain rip right through him, as Azog had impaled him on his blade. Oh it had hurt so bad! He'd been sure he was going to die, in the few moments he'd been spared to think during his fall, and true enough, the pain that radiated through his body as he impacted with solid ground had confirmed his last realizations. The blonde hadn't had any time to process any other thoughts, as everything had happened too quickly, safe for a quick I don't want to die! Then, Fili's body had been sprawled out on the ground, no longer any lively twinkle visible. But during his fall, he hadn't heard his Uncle's anguished cry, nor had he noticed Kili hiding just out of reach, the only thing ringing through his ears had been a roar, or at least he'd though he'd heard it…

The blonde was sure he was dead, and yet, what was this cold feeling beneath him? Why was he feeling cold if he no longer drew breath? Gaining a little control over his limbs, Fili tried ordering his hand to flex, as if thinking doing so would allow him to grasp whatever was beneath him. Sure enough, his body obeyed -it obeyed him!- and he soon realized the soft feeling under his gloved fingers was something akin to snow.

The next logical thing to do would be to open his eyes, but Fili hesitated. What was he going to see? If it was to find Uncle's body torn apart to the point it would no longer be recognizable, with Azog standing triumphantly above it, or have to see Kili being maimed by Bolg right in front of him, Fili would rather be tortured till he died himself than have to witness his loved ones breathe their last. He knew it was cowardly, but having to continue on without his family was not even thinkable.

Still, the warrior within him forced himself to look up once more, and when he did, Fili was sure he could feel the burning sting of tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. There, hovering just over him, he was sure he could see Kili and Uncle Thorin, alive! Smiling!

"K-Kili? U-Uncle?" The blonde wanted to be sure it wasn't a trick, that this wasn't some kind of false hope he was being shown yet again. Knowing his Uncle had been that close to him when he'd died had been torment. However, the feeling of warm arms around his waist, as Thorin brought him into a bone crushing hug, and Kili's hand on his shoulder were definitely enough to prove him that they were there.

"Fi-I'm, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"Thorin wanted to mend things, while he still had the chance. It had been his fault his nephew had perished, being the one to have sent him scouting that less than secure mountain. It had been him who had simply watched, frozen, as Fili had aguishly begged for him to run as he'd just stared at his nephew being brutally butchered.

Fili knew his brother would have probably liked to say something too, but had refrained himself, leaving the first words he'd hear be their Uncle's apology. Besides, his reassuring hand on his shoulder conveyed enough for the elder to know he was okay. Thorin was the one who actually seemed to be in need of comfort right noow.

"Please don't blame yourself Uncle." Fili started softly. Thorin hadn't any guilt to carry. It had just been a cruel twist of faith, his Uncle hadn't knowingly sent him to his death, Thorin was not a dwarf who'd do such a thing anyway. "We're here now, together, maybe we'll be able to start off again?" He asked, hesitantly looking up to his king.

Thorin could only smile down at the inquisitive stare. Sometimes, he forgot how much Fili was still a child, despite being the elder of the two brothers. The dwarf gave his nephew a slight squeeze on his shoulder, conveying what he could not say out loud. But it was enough for Fili to understand.

Sensing this was soon going to become somewhat awkward, Kili rose up first, soon followed by the other two. Maybe they ought to find out where exactly they were? Maybe they should be heading to somewhere where they might find someone.

"Shouldn't we be moving?" he asked, with his trademark smirk. Thorin smiled, noticing it had been little things like this that he'd missed the most, while being overcome by the damn Dragon Sickness. But now it was just the three of them. Wherever they were, Thorin promised himself he'd try and mend what he'd done, he'd try and build a family again.

"Why don't you lead the way, Kili?" he asked with a light wink, sending his younger nephew to the front. And so the three of them set off, together, dragging themselves through the snow. The Uncle might not have had the slightest clue as to where they'd landed, but as long as they were together, it was all that counted.