Chapter 3 - The Mountain and the Ash

Kili had been raised on stories of battle and glory, as befit his station, but he learned very quickly that they were entirely the wrong stories. He'd heard all about his uncle's valiant last stand at Moria, and how his cousin had seen Hell upon the doorstep there before shutting it in the bowels for the earth to rot. In darker moments, Thorin had spoken to them of battle terror and confusion, but Dwalin had always been swift to belie his uncle's seriousness, and though Kili noticed Balin's disapproval, it was not remarked upon.

Still, it would have been handy to know that an enormous and powerful orc had sworn to obliterate Kili's whole line. He did not consider himself to be of any great importance, unless Fili should grow old without heirs as Thorin had done, and thus far his brother showed no signs of being quite as isolationist as their uncle. Nevertheless, Kili felt the information was critical enough that it ought not to have been sprung on him in the middle of the night around a campfire on the edge of the Wild.

The threat of Azog would not have prevented him from accompanying his uncle, brother, and company, of course. But he might have at least attempted to be more serious; to be more like Thorin. Had they told him when he was a badger – "Kili, your uncle has a nemesis that wants to kill you too" – he never would have shirked his arms training to play on the mountainsides of Ered Luin. Or at least that's what he likes to think.

Now, facing down an uncountable horde of orcs screaming out for his blood in particular, Kili drew cold mithril about his very soul. Gone is the caravan guard, the rapscallion nephew. The spare. Instead he was a prince of Erebor-reclaimed, and he stood ready for the field of battle. He did not have to wonder what Thorin would do, as he had done before, because he can see his uncle, his King, plainly in front of him. He thought it will give him strength, but it wasn't until he felt Fili's hand upon his shoulder, squeezing even through the mail, that he knew he had succeeded.

"Stay close to Uncle," Fili whispered. "Don't let Dwalin try to protect you, or him. That's our job now."

Kili nodded, his speech stolen. That is why they came, after all, though neither of them dared to say as much to any one, save the other.

The elves charged first, and even from their vantage point Kili could not tell if Tauriel fought beside her King as Kili was about to fight beside his. He did not doubt she would be close to the centre of the line, death to all who stand against her. Kili could only hope that the elf-prince would guard her back as he had done in Laketown, but Bolg is on the field alongside Azog, and Kili feared the worst.

The Men engaged, and Dain's dwarvish army, and then the fighting becomes difficult to follow. Azog rode with black bats beyond numbering in his train, and they blot out the field below. It was not until the ravens took up the cry that Kili realized there were orcs on the mountainside, and that the warriors below were about to be pinned down.

Out leapt Thorin, then, no more the mad King, but the King Under the Mountain in all his glory. He shouted and his voice rang across the valley below, calling all to him. Kili jumped too, in Fili's wake, and together they brought the axes of the dwarves to the Enemy.

There was no time, nor was there concept of space. Before he quite knew it, Kili found they had descended quite a ways, leaving retreat to the Front Gate impossible. He stood with one shoulder to his uncle and the other to the orcs. He did not even carry his bow, and was glad of it, because he would not have the space to shoot. It was axes or nothing, now, and Kili fought the way his people always have. His arms do not tire, as they did when he trained with Dwalin, and across Thorin's chest he can see the gold fire that is his brother, protecting their uncle from the other side.

A warg howled, the white matriarch, and Kili saw his uncle's great axe embed itself in her maw. She went down, legs flailing and voice whining like a dog's, but Azog kicked free of her and rose up. Thorin carried two smaller axes then, but they were meant for throwing and his reach was not great enough. Azog tore into his left side, Kili's side, and when he fell, Kili saw red rage instead of the field before him.

There were orcs all around and no hope of rescue, but Kili knew his uncle yet lived, and the foul beast Azog would not have his head. Then he stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother. He heard a cry, something about eagles, and then another cry, a closer one in Elvish, and when he looked to its source, he saw red fire and bright blades, cutting through towards him.

It all goes very slow then, like he trod through deep snow, or honey. Fili went down, and he heard someone screaming curses at the orc who cut him. It was a long moment before he realized that he was the screamer, that he was the one all the orcs turned to now.

Kili heard a roar, the impossibly loud roar of a bear pushed beyond all rage, and the orcs began to scream as well, gibbering in panic in such a way that he almost dared to hope, even as he watched Azog raise his mace once more. Tauriel was so close now. He could see her face, somehow still lit with starlight in the middle of this horrid place, so determined to save him again.

Mr. Baggins said the third time pays for all.

Kili had already had three times.

Then, there were no screams. Just lots of blood.

He found her on a promontory overlooking the Lake, but she was not looking towards the forest as he might have done. She was looking at the stars.

"Father says the treaty with Lord Dain is nearly completed," Legolas said. "We will depart on the morrow. Mithrandir and the hobbit are to accompany us, and I believe Beorn as well."

"And what of me?" she asked. "Has my lord passed his judgement there?"

"He will not, I think," Legolas told her. "It is my thought that he will do his very best to forget it."

"Your father does not forget," she said. Her voice was already as cold and as far away as the stars.

"No," he said. "My father does not forget."

"The world is so much bigger, Legolas," she said. "We have come so far, and yet the stars are still the same. I would like to go far enough away that they change. That there are new lights in the sky."

He said nothing in reply, because if he did, he knows that he would beg to come with her. She does not want him to, and he cannot go.

"I will not lose the stars again, my prince," she said.

"I know," he said.

"Maybe if peace had been won differently. But this peace is the same as the last: watchful and untrusting. Your father will not change until he is driven to it, and I fear greatly what will drive him."

Again, Legolas was silent. Everything she had said was true. It was why she must go and he must stay.

At last she turned to him. There are tears on her cheeks, but her face was set. Her eyes shone as she kissed him, once, as she kissed the dwarf farewell upon the mountainside before they buried him in stone. Then she was gone. Legolas could find her, follow her, if he chose. But instead he returned to his father's fire, and told him that they will require a new captain of the guard.

TBC...