Walking along the lakeshore yielded no signs of dwarves, but signs of orc there were plenty. Legolas was pleased; Morwinyon could not help but notice that Tauriel seemed discomfited. She did not think Tauriel wanted to follow the dwarves for the same reasons she did, but it became rapidly clearer that she did want to follow them.
"Maybe they will kill each other for us," Legolas said. "All of our problems solved. No more of the orcs and no dragon woken."
Morwinyon glanced at Tauriel and saw her frown.
"The dwarves are not our enemies."
"The dwarves are trespassers who would loose a dragon on the world," Legolas said. "We would be well rid of them. I know you are curious about the younger one, Tauriel, but he is probably dead already."
Morwinyon thought briefly that she too would loose a dragon on the world, after a fashion, before the rest of his words sank in. "Which younger one?" she demanded, stopping in her tracks. "The one with golden hair? Why would he be dead?"
"Kili," Tauriel said. "The dark haired one."
Oh. That was alright then. She started walking again.
"He took a morgul shaft to the leg," Tauriel continued. Her tone did not waver, but Morwinyon knew Tauriel very well. There was the slightest bit of stiffness in the way she moved now, the awkwardness Tauriel only displayed when she did not know the rules in a given situation. Perhaps it was not alright.
"Perhaps he does live," Morwinyon offered, not without her own awkwardness. She was not at her best when she did not know the rules either, and she was not used to offering comfort. "Dwarves are hardy folk, from what I have read."
Legolas muttered something under his breath too soft for even elvish ears to catch and stalked ahead. Morwinyon shrugged at Tauriel, who patted her shoulder.
It took them three days to skirt the edge of the lake – it was dark for a second time when they reached Laketown and ascertained that the orcs were actually inside the walls. Morwinyon was sure they could have gone faster, though she did not say so. Legolas already looked out of sorts: any complaining on her part might lead to outright sulking. Tauriel had gotten more and more tense the more they gained on the orcs.
"Stay with me," Tauriel reminded Morwinyon as they all checked over their weaponry one last time.
"Or go where you tell me," Morwinyon finished obediently. "I remember."
They ghosted over the rooftops with bows drawn, which was at least partly familiar territory for Morwinyon. She had never had such a nice view in her father's halls, though. She was distracted briefly by the stars and found herself trailing slightly behind.
So it was she who saw the orc attempt to kill someone who might have been a dwarf. She fired without thinking further. Legolas glanced back at the whisper of sound and nodded shortly.
The maybe-dwarf was definitely not Fíli: she saw no hint of golden hair. Morwinyon sped up again.
Kili was getting worse. Nothing Oin did for him seemed to help, and Kili was being a brave about the whole thing as Fíli had ever seen anyone be, but he was desperately afraid he was going to lose his brother to a knee wound.
He had been prepared for injury, perhaps even a persistent limp. Plenty of dwarves got around with limps and worse – Bifur being on the very edge of the worse spectrum – and anyway Kili was a prince. He could be a diplomat. He might have been a good one, if he ever got over that reckless streak: Kili was genuinely curious about other cultures. It didn't seem fair that he might die before he got to learn much about the elves.
"I need herbs," Oin said, but human medicines were apparently lacking.
"We could use some elvish medicine right about now," Kili gasped with a grin before biting his lip on another groan of pain.
"If your lady love appears from nowhere we'll have some," Oin said tartly.
"I don't think they let princesses out of strongholds to heal dwarves," Fíli said.
"Oh, that's just what we need," Oin groused as Bofur ran out the door. "Kili, you are under no circumstances to even think on any daughter of that blaggard king."
Fíli winced. He didn't know why he thought Oin had been talking to him. His brother was dying, and now all he could think about was whether Morwinyon was any good at healing. He'd met her once: this was ridiculous on multiple counts.
"Tauriel is a guard captain," Kili corrected barely intelligibly through his panting breaths.
"Keep arguing with me, that's a good sign," Oin said.
The rumble that shook the town made Fíli close his eyes for a long moment. Thorin had woken the dragon. Was Fíli to be the only heir of Durin left?
Tilda gasped, and Fíli was reminded forcibly that his was not the only family at risk.
"You should leave us," he told Bard. "Take your children and go."
"There is nowhere to go," Bard said, grim and quiet.
Sigrid clutched at Bain's collar as if she would drag her little brother to safety, one hand outstretched after Tilda, who asked, "Are we going to die, Da?"
The question felt like a knife, a quick, clean stab to the heart. His family had done what they wanted, and this little girl – he did not know how old she was, human ages never seemed to line up quite properly with dwarves' – was paying for it. Fíli was going to be sick.
He missed the rest of the conversation, but he heard the clatter of pots and pans falling and opened his eyes to see Bard holding a large black arrow.
"Not if I kill it first," Bard said.
It was all very inspiring and Fíli got caught up in the moment right up to the point Bard and Bain left and he realized he had been left with Sigrid, who at least seemed the sensible sort, and Tilda, who seemed much less sensible by virtue of being eleven. Eleven. Humans aged more quickly than dwarves, Fíli reminded himself, but eleven?
"I'm fifteen," Sigrid said when she heard him mutter something to Oin, sounding like she thought it meant she was vastly older.
"Right," Fíli said, and tried not to feel faint. "Erm. What would you be doing right now normally?"
"Putting Tilda to bed," she said, pointedly not looking at Kili.
"Right," he said again.
"Do you not want to sit with your brother?" Sigrid asked. "I've got to neaten up, and I know if it were Bain or Tilda I wouldn't want to worry about a couple of children who are used to taking care of themselves."
He didn't really have anything to say to that, but he helped her clean up the kitchen until Bain returned and Sigrid put him to work instead. Sigrid patted Fili on the shoulder and sent him politely but firmly to sit with Kili, as if fifteen really were vastly older, and he settled beside the bed, trying to stay out of Oin's way.
Which was, of course, when the orcs came in through the ceiling. Sigrid screamed while they were recovering from that shock, trying to yank the door closed against another orc. It was too strong for her. It was too strong for Fíli, when he tackled it after Sigrid screamed again and very prudently rolled under the table, even more prudently dragging the first sibling she could get her hands on with her.
Fíli was thrown backwards, sliding inelegantly across the width of the table and tumbling to the ground. Broken crockery scraped across his back; he shoved himself to his feet just as Morwinyon's precious Tauriel appeared from nowhere. The blond elf who had been with her when they were captured followed her now: was he perhaps her lieutenant?
He didn't have time to ponder further – Bain was nearly run through by an orc, and Fili could not let Bard's hospitality be repaid by dead children. He shoved the boy down with his siblings as Kili leapt on the orc and Tauriel dispatched it handily as an arrow flew through a window and took another orc in the eye.
"You killed them all," Bain said wonderingly when it was over moments later.
"There are others," the blond elf said. "Tauriel, come."
Which meant they were at least equals: you didn't use that tone with a superior officer. Unless elves did. Tauriel did not follow immediately, as Fili had expected. She stared at Kili, clearly worried even before Oin helpfully informed everyone that they were losing him. As if they hadn't known that before.
Tauriel looked at the other elf as if asking permission.
"Tauriel," he said again, a clear order without the slightest care for the imminent death of Fili's brother, and left.
She hesitated, went to the door, and hesitated again.
"Tauriel?" Morwinyon asked, landing neatly on the rail outside. She smiled briefly at Fili and looked again at her friend, asking a question in elvish and gesturing after their departed companion. Asking if they should follow?
"Can you help him?" Fili asked. Morwinyon cocked her head at Tauriel as if she had not heard him. "Well?"
She jerked her attention back to him, wide-eyed, as if surprised to be addressed. "Me?"
Before he could answer, Tauriel gasped. Everyone jumped and clutched at weaponry, but she was taking a plant from just-arrived Bofur.
"Tauriel?" Morwinyon asked again.
"I am going to save him," Tauriel said. "Morwinyon, keep watch."
