All I own is my OC. But I think you guys know this by now. Everything else is Tolkien's and Peter Jackson's.


CHAPTER SEVEN

A SIGHT OF HOME

Every muscle in Kili's body protested as the charge down the mountainside began. It felt almost as if he was running through water, his every move infuriatingly slow as the vicious howls of the wargs grew closer. He had narrowly missed tripping over a tree root-was it getting darker out?-when the pounding of heavy paws against the ground came into earshot. He gripped the hilt of his sword, preparing himself for the inevitable attack.

Hearing the sound of snarling, he turned to see that a few wargs had bounded into their midst. Before he could run up to help his companions, though, the beasts had already been cut down. As he turned to continue running, he found that now, they had another problem entirely to deal with. They had fled onto a rocky crag, jutting out of the mountainside. Kili slowed to a halt, panting, as he inspected the situation. The shard of rock was practically free floating, and a jump from any of the sides would quite likely end in death, or fatal injury. Neither of which, the company could afford. Their only escape would be back up the mountain, where yet more beasts could be seen, their gray pelts flickering in the half-light of the cloud covered sun.

"Up into the trees!" Gandalf called. "All of you! Come on, climb!"

Kili hesitated. He couldn't imagine how getting themselves stuck up in the trees would really be of any help. Wouldn't that just be delaying the inevitable of them being devoured by these blood-thirsty monsters? However, Gandalf had suggested crazier things before, and that had never lead them astray... Seeing most of his companions had begun climbing as soon as they heard that command, Kili sprinted to the nearest tree, gripping onto one of the lower-hanging branches, and vaulting himself up. The limb holding his weight bounced slightly, but Kili shoved any hesitation aside, forcing his tired body to pull him up through the branches.

He was a good few yards up off the ground when he dared to look down. To his utter relief, he could see all of his companions perched in the trees. They would all be safe, at least a bit longer.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he squinted to see Bilbo, still on the ground, fighting to yank his sword out of the skull of one of the dead wargs. Kili struggled against the desire to scream at him to get to the trees. Was the hobbit an idiot? Or blind that he couldn't see the dozens of beasts streaking down the mountainside, hissing and snarling for his blood? Kili gripped the trunk of the tree hard enough to embed a few splinters of wood in his palm, watching helplessly.

Finally, the blade popped free, and Bilbo looked around for a moment, seemingly baffled, before noticing the wargs, charging down the hill, straight towards him. He scrambled up into the tree Gwen and Fili had perched themselves in. The two already in the tree grabbed onto the collar of his jacket, and hoisted him up out of reach, just as a warg leapt up, its massive jaws snapping closed a fraction of an inch from the hobbit's toes.

There were dozens of beasts, then, flooding the ground between the trees, climbing over each other, desperate to get even a bit closer to their hiding prey. As one nearly nipped Kili's boot, he jerked out of the way, snapping a branch off of his tree, and chucking it down onto the head of the closest warg. This only seemed to outrage it further, as it began to practically foam at the mouth, clawing at the trunk of the tree.

This all suddenly stopped, the beasts going perfectly silent as another figure crested a rock outcrop. It was a massive warg, it fur a muddied shade of white, its yellow eyes glinting in the gray light. Riding the beast was an even worse creature. It seemed to be an extremely overgrown orc, all heavyset muscle. Over this muscle was stretched a layer of pallid, near transparent skin, covered with scars, nicks, tattoos, and bruises. It had tiny, watery blue eyes set far apart in its deeply scarred face. In one hand, it held a heavy looking mace, its other hand had been cut off to a blunt stump, and a nasty looking pronged weapon was embedded in its huge forearm. It scanned over the tree-bound Dwarves, before leaning down to speak in a low tone. Kili only heard rough, glottal noises and hissing. Certainly not a language he understood. He was glad. He didn't want to hear what this overgrown blight had to say.

More orcs, astride wargs came up behind him, much smaller in stature, but just as disgusting. The large orc leaned back in his saddle, seeming to be addressing the dwarves, although Kili was still unable to understand. He pointed with his mace at Thorin, spitting something to his companions, before roaring a few words out, swinging his disfigured weapon in a circle around his head.

At this command, the wargs and orcs leapt into action. They streaked forward, lunging at the trees the dwarves were in. Kili felt the trunk of his tree begin to tremble and sway, and spared a glance over, to see Bilbo clambering higher up his tree, Fili and Gwen staring down helplessly at the wargs attacking them.

Just when Kili's tree gave a particularly savage shudder, an all too familiar ear-piercing scream rose above the shouts of the other dwarves. He looked up to see that Gwen's tree had been uprooted, and was tilting over, falling into the next tree full of dwarves. Kili was forced to tear his gaze away, as the roots of his own trunk ripped out of the ground, and he too was falling towards another tree full of his companions. He followed the momentum of the falling tree, leaping, and catching a branch of the next. His relief, however, was only momentary, as it seemed the new tree he'd found himself on had also been torn from the ground. He had to leap onto the next one along, and the next, before he reached the last tree still standing on the very edge cliff.

Once his footing felt stable enough, Kili scanned his surroundings. It seemed all of his companions had been forced to this same tree. The wargs on the ground were going mad, trying to reach them, climbing over each other just to get a bit closer. Suddenly, Kili smelled burning above him, and looked up to see that Gandalf had plucked one of the large pinecones that were hanging from the branches. He was running it carefully over the end of his staff, and soon enough, the pinecone burst into flames. Once it was lit, he lobbed it down at the wargs, which flinched back from the trail of flames it dragged across the ground. "Fili!" The wizard called, dropping another flaming pinecone down to the blonde dwarf.

He caught it, and Bilbo and Gwen reached over, lighting their own pinecones with it. Before it truly flamed up, Gwen held hers down to Kili. He glanced about for a moment, till he saw a fairly large pinecone, dangling a foot or two to his left. With a good yank, it was free and he held it above Gwen's, giving it a bit of a blow to encourage the heat to grow. Once there were a few embers glowing orange in it, Gwen tossed hers, and Kili watched, a bit amused, as it fell a few feet short of the wall of fire that had formed. Kili blew the fire a bit more to life in his, then gave it a good throw, rather satisfied as it hit a warg right in the nose, sending it screeching and writhing back in pain. "See," he said up to Gwen. "That's how it's done."

She gave him a kick in the back, not hard enough to knock him out of the tree, but hard enough to sting a bit, before dropping another flaming projectile to him. "Shut up and throw this."

His next shot wasn't quite as good, due mostly to the fact that the pinecone was already up in flames when it hit his fingers, but their efforts seemed to be succeeding, as the giant orc let out an outraged roar. Many of his 'warriors' were fleeing the scene, whimpering, and rather on fire. Kili found himself grinning, the sound of his comrades cheers filling his ears. Perhaps they would make it out of this after all.

Kili was about to lean up to say something to Gwen, but was interrupted by the tree suddenly shifting underneath him. There was the awful sound of roots tearing out of the ground, and they were falling off the cliff. The tree was stopped in a near horizontal position, and Kili quickly found himself hugging tightly to a branch, his feet dangling over the empty space. It was then that he decided he was quite done with heights, at least for a while.

He was trying to hoist himself a bit higher, to gain some sort of foothold, when he saw Thorin stand on the log, his sword drawn. The firelight illuminated his silhouette as he walked with slow, purposeful steps towards the massive orc, his sword drawn.

What in Mahal's name was he doing? He was going to get himself killed! Kili's efforts redoubled, and he strained to get a better angle to prop himself up.

Thorin broke into a charge, raising his sword and shield. The beast seemed almost gleeful, hoisting its own weapons and roaring out a battle cry as its warg leapt from its perch, plowing right through Thorin. The dwarf stumbled back onto the ground. Kili watched, horrified but helpless as the orc circled around on its warg, barely giving Thorin time to stand up, before rushing forward, clipping the dwarf under the chin with his large mace. Thorin collapsed.

The white warg bent down, crunching Thorin in between its massive jaws. Kili's breath choked in his throat. No. He couldn't be watching his uncle die. Not here, miles from their goal. He experienced momentary relief as Thorin reached up valiantly with his sword, slashing it across the warg's nose. It seemed the dwarf king was still alive and kicking. However, upon being struck, the white warg retaliated by tossing him a few yards away, like a giant child's toy. Although Kili couldn't hear, he could only imagine the sound Thorin's body made when it hit the stone like a deadweight.

Thorin had fallen to the ground. And it didn't seem like he was getting up. A thousand memories flashed through Kili's head, of his uncle falling. But each of those times, he had gotten back up. And now he wasn't. Mahal, why wasn't he getting up!?

He wanted to scream, to beg his uncle to get up and fight a little longer. Just a little longer, and they'd all be safe and happy and together again. This couldn't be the end.

He hardly could believe what he was seeing, as an orc dismounted, and approached the prone form of his uncle, drawing a long, jagged blade. Kili froze as it was raised-then found his breath returning in a gasp, as a small form tackled the orc down. Durin's beard, was that Bilbo? He watched with wide eyes as the little hobbit stabbed the orc through the throat a few times, before staggering to his feet.

Kili wasted no more time. Using strength he didn't know he had left, he dragged himself upwards, onto the trunk of the tree, lurching up to his feet. He let out a roar as he sprinted towards the line of wargs, hacking at the face of the nearest one with his sword. Soon, he was cutting down its rider too, relishing in the astonished horror on its face. There were few feelings better than bringing death to those who deserved it so much as these creatures.

He fought madly, although his exhausted muscles ached and cramped with pain, and his breath burned in his lungs. Sweat dripped from his brow, almost blinding him while smoke choked up the air, and Kili's head was beginning to feel a bit blurry. He found himself hesitating as three wargs approached. He could take them. He had to be able to. It was just a matter of a bit of planning...his plan was interrupted by the sound of a shriek overhead, and a gust of hot wind. He peered up through the billow of smoke rising from the mountainside to see the shape of what looked to be a giant bird, silhouetted against the faintly lit clouds. He wasn't allowed another second of consideration, before it swept down, plucking up two of Kili's opponents from the ground and carrying them a bit of a ways, before loosening its grip on them, letting the creatures slip from its talons, into the open space below.

Reacting more on instinct than thought, Kili rushed forward, slicing open the throat of the remaining warg. It stumbled back from him, gurgling black-stained foam at the mouth, giving Kili the opening to stab right through the belly of its rider. Another shadow swooped by overhead, and there was a loud crackling sound, above the roar of flames. A gust of hot air rushed by him, as a large tree toppled to the ground, crushing two riderless wargs under its weight.

There had to be at least a dozen of these giant birds, circling above, putting their enemies to death. Bloody useful, that. Kili's eye caught one of them, sweeping down, and gathering up Thorin gently in its talons, before soaring off. He was speechless. Had his uncle just got stolen by a bird? Had that really just happened?

The giant orc let out a roar of outrage as its prey was carried off into the darkness. Kili was only worried. It seemed the birds had been helping them, but what on earth could they want with Thorin? And where were they taking him? He yelped in astonishment as quite suddenly, large talons surrounded him, and the ground was swept from under his feet. His stomach dropped as the mountainside fell away. Oh, yes. It was most definitely time to be done with heights. The darkness of the sky soon swallowed him up, and all he could see was faintly lit clouds behind the shadow the bird cut into the sky. The wind felt lovely, cooling the sweat from his forehead, but he still found himself terrified in the rather loose grip of the bird.

His heart jolted, bile rising in his throat as the talons shifted under him, until he was slipping from its grip. Well, he mused as the air rushed by him, his pulse thudding a thousand times per minute. At least it'll be a quick death. Would've liked to say goodbye to some people though...Mum, Gimli, Fili, maybe even Gwen...

That trail of thought ended as he hit something solid, warm, and feathery. He soon realized he had been dropped onto the back of another bird. He glanced around in shock, only to be more astonished by the sight of his brother, perched on the back of the bird beside him. "Fili?"

His brother paid him no mind, fixated on one of the birds up ahead. "Thorin!"

Kili's heart dropped. Thorin, limp, in the claws of a bird. Dead? Maybe.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, and forcing that panic away. There was no need. "Brother."

Fili turned to look back at him, and Kili's heart broke a bit at the sight of raw fear in his brother's eyes. 'There's nothing we can do now," Kili said, struggling to keep his tone steady. "Just...take a deep breath. Thorin's stronger than this."

He hoped that his own doubt didn't show through. Fili paused, watching him for a bit, before nodding, then turning his attention back to watching Thorin hang from the bird's talons. Kili clenched his fingers in the bird's smooth feathers, trying to follow his own advice. It was actually rather lovely, soaring through the air. The wind was cool and fresh, washing over his sweaty skin, running soft fingers through the tangled locks of his hair. They had broken free from the oppressive cloud cover from before, and it seemed as if the whole world was splayed out for him to see, basked in the golden glow of the sun. Dark, snow dusted mountaintops; the downy white caps of clouds; deep green ravines, thriving with growth; the silver tendrils of waterfalls, snaking down jagged cliff sides...it really was a spectacular view.

Soon, they neared a large tower of stone, flat at the top, with a small staircase winding up the side. The birds circled around it for a bit, until the one carrying Thorin gently set him down onto the stone, before soaring away. Gandalf was dropped next, and he quickly rushed to Thorin's side. That worry came back, full force. Please, don't let him be dead, Kili nearly prayed.

Fili and Kili were at last set down, in time to see Gandalf sit back. Kili edged closer, and nearly wilted with relief to see Thorin awake, and looking about.

"It's alright," Gandalf said, almost soothingly. "Bilbo is here."

Kili felt a presence at his side, and looked to see that Gwen had been set down as well. A sudden rush of feeling filling up his heart, Kili reached over for her hand, as he had before the warg attack, this time gripping it firmly, keeping their fingers intertwined. There was something immensely comforting in the way his hands swamped hers. In the feeling of her tiny, calloused thumb running softly over his knuckles. And Mahal, was he in need of comfort.

Thorin began to drag himself to his feet, and Kili almost dropped Gwen's hand to help him, but Dwalin and Fili went up to help him instead. "You," Thorin spat, shaking off the other dwarves.

Kili's good mood fell a bit, and he found himself gripping Gwen a bit tighter. The last thing the hobbit deserved was another tongue lashing. He had saved Thorin's life! Bilbo's face showed disappointment too, as the dwarves cleared away, letting Thorin and Bilbo have this out.

"What were you doing?" Thorin growled. "You nearly got yourself killed."

Bilbo couldn't find a response, shifting nervously, looking to the others for help. No help was offered.

"Did I not say that you would be a burden?" Thorin hissed, coming closer to the flighty hobbit. 'That you would not survive in the wild? And that you had no place amongst us?"

Thorin paused, and they all waited with held breath to see what this would turn into. Surely, he wasn't going to punish the hobbit? Not after all they'd been through.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life." With that, the dwarf king surged forward, wrapping Bilbo in a solid embrace, as if he was a long lost brother.

Kili was stunned for a moment. Thorin...hugging Bilbo. That was...remarkably odd. But other than that, it was very heart lifting to see Thorin happy. Or at least appreciative.

Gwen gave his hand a bit of a squeeze, and he looked to see her watching the scene, head tilted a bit, a distinctly longing look in her eyes despite the half-smile on her lips. Kili was forced to push that to the back of his mind when Thorin continued.

"I am sorry I doubted you."

"No, no I would have doubted me too," Bilbo insisted. "I'm not a hero. Or a warrior, or even a burglar," he added, with a nod to Gandalf.

There was a soft rushing sound, and Kili looked out to see it was the eagles, circling them one last time, before sweeping off to the horizon.

"Is that...what I think it is?" Bilbo asked in a small voice.

Kili turned to see what he spoke of. A chill went up his back as he near dragged Gwen up the stone. When it came into view, he didn't care that Gwen was squeezing his hand tightly enough to cut off circulation, because he was holding her just as tightly.

There, on the horizon, was his home.

"Erebor," Gandalf announced. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth."

"Our home," Thorin breathed.

Kili's breath caught in his throat. He had lived nearly every day of his life in the Blue Mountains. He had always thought of his little house, with his mother, his brother, his uncle, and frequently their much extended family as his home. But as he stared at that solitary peak, rising above the plains, wrapped in wisps of clouds, he knew, without a doubt in the world, that this mountain was his real home. It was where he was meant to live out the rest of his days, and eventually be buried, in the halls of his fathers and forefathers. He was finally coming home.

"A raven!" Oin called out. "The birds are returning to the mountain!"

"That my dear Oin," Gandalf corrected. "Is a thrush."

"We'll take it as a sign," Thorin said. "A good omen."

"You're right," Bilbo mused. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

The hobbit's words hung in the air for a few minutes, before murmurs broke out across the flat stone. "Gwen?" Fili suddenly asked. "Weren't you dead?'

Her hand slipped out of Kili's as all eyes turned to her, for a response. Kili too, sought an answer.

She shrugged. "Obviously, I wasn't, or else I should quite hope that I'd also be dead right now."

There was a long silence, as they all thought on this.

"So..." Bofur began, before he hesitated a bit. "You were playing dead?"

She gave him an affirmative nod.

Many of the dwarves were fine with this answer, and began talking amongst themselves, while Kili found himself frowning. He had been so...despaired by the thought of her dead, her corpse desecrated by a hoard of goblins, and he had been so certain that she really was gone. Goosebumps rose over his skin as he recalled the way her limbs had hung, at the most awkward, unnatural angles, thick drops of blood..."You were bleeding."

When he said this, confusion passed over Gwen's features.

Kili hurried to explain. "When you were faking dead, you were dripping blood. Are you alright?"

She chuckled, but Kili noticed her hand shift to her side. "Doing better than you, at least, Master Dwarf. Then again, I'm always doing better than you."

Kili searched her face carefully for a moment, looking for any sign she might be lying about being alright. Finally, he resigned himself to just asking, "How? You...you looked dead."

She hesitated, but eventually gave him a half smile and a slight shrug. "When you're alone, you learn the best ways to fend for yourself. Instinct kicked in, back there, I suppose, and I reacted as if I were just trying not to get killed myself."

Kili nodded slowly, though his thoughts were still a mess. Reacted as if she were alone...But she wasn't alone, was she?


Very short chapter. Sorry. There just wasn't a lot of content, and the chapter before and after it are just too long to add it to one of them. I hope you enjoyed it, though. Please leave a review! Hearing what you guys think of this story is one of my favorite things in the world. Thanks so very, very much for all of the reviews/faves/follows on the last chapter. See you guys Tuesday, for a chapter that I myself am very fond of. I think you guys will be too. Have a wonderful day!

Next chapter: A Conflict of Interests