Note: Quotes are from Woodkid's "Iron" and Bastille's "Daniel in the Den".

Chapter 7

A soldier on my own, I don't know the way
I'm riding up the heights of shame
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest
I'm ready for the fight and fate

In looking for his brother Kili found himself lost in the commotion below. He neared the door, bracing against the blast of cold air that blew in. Every bearded face he looked into was a stranger. Kili whirled this way and that, searching for a familiar face… Fili, or someone who might know where he was. Another shout rent the air and lines of dwarves moved out to the beat of a heavy drum. Kili flung himself out of the way lest they knock him down. The armoured company seemed relentless as they moved along as one… and then the previous chaotic turmoil swept in to take their place.

Dwarves ran every which way, the clamour of voices and steel echoed around Erebor's halls. Kili felt like a lost child. He remembered a time when he was small and his mother had taken him to market. Fili held his hand tightly, but a sudden crowd formed around an entertainer and they were separated. Kili called out for his brother, pushing his way through a forest of legs and skirts. He was lost. He started to panic. And then Fili's hand reached out to grab him and pull him on. But here Fili was nowhere to be found… Kili needed to see him. He needed to see his brother before they stepped foot into battle. They may not escape with their lives… They certainly wouldn't escape with their innocence.

But time was short, it flowed away with every breath, Kili could delay no longer. He let himself be swept away with the next company to move out. Still he looked this way and that, hoping to catch sight of Fili or one of the others. The company of Thorin were now thirteen amongst five hundred. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. They emerged into the bright daylight, though it only seemed bright for the dwarves having come from the dim interior of the mountain. As Kili wandered his eyes adjusted and the world dulled to grey. The rain had stopped, but it left a dank feel to the air. A slight mist hung about the ground, becoming thicker further out. Kili supposed he should find the rocky outcrop Fili had pointed out to him. He strayed about the uneven land, winding his way through rocks and tufts of barren grass. Companies of dwarves formed up all about him. Everyone seemed to have a place, but Kili was jostled about and then he drifted… He felt like a leaf blown about on the wind.

A company of men marched by, brushing past the young dwarf, and then he felt a firm hand on his chest.

"Come Master Dwarf, I believe you're with me?"

Bard… it was Bard. At last Kili had direction. He gave a nod and then followed after Bard as he led his men to the rocky outcrop. The leader of Esgaroth directed his swordsmen to stand with the dwarves below before taking the archers to the peak of the small outcrop. Kili stood at the very top, as close to the edge as he dared. He looked out over the field and took in a deep breath, drawing himself up as tall as he could. Mist concealed much from view, but this seemed to be the most advantageous position they could have found. Still, it was not much of a field; the footing looked to be stony and treacherous in places. Kili scanned the troops of dwarves below, hoping to see a flash of blonde hair. Sure enough Thorin walked along the front line and at his side walked Fili. Their Uncle looked at his men, meeting their eyes, trying to give them courage. Kili supposed it would seem childish to call for his brother and wave, but he was filled with such excitement at having found Fili he couldn't stop himself.

"Fili!" His voice rang out over the heads of the soldiers below. "Fili! Up here!"

That earned him a glare from Thorin, but Fili raised a hand and gave a small smile. Kili was glad to see them take up position just below. At least he would be able to keep an eye on his brother and shoot down any goblins or orcs attacking him. No doubt it gave Fili some small measure of comfort to have Kili within eyesight too. He probably told Kili to take this position purely so he could watch him.

"Have you seen much action before Master Dwarf?" Bard drew up alongside Kili.

"We are beyond such formality now Bard, call me Kili, and truthfully, no I have not… I have killed goblins before, but nothing like this".

"Truthfully I have not either, nothing of this scale at least… Are you afraid Kili?"

"Would you think less of me if I said I was?"

"No… perhaps I would have thought less of you if you said you weren't. Only the reckless and foolhardy have no fear, and they do not last long in battle".

"I have been called reckless a fair few times before". Kili tried to say the words in a light manner but he couldn't summon a smile to his face. His fingers found their way into his pocket to the smooth surface of a rune stone…

"Then hopefully your fear will temper it… I know you would rather have your brother by your side, but I hope I am worthy enough to stand in his stead. Stay with me, and we'll see our way through this". Bard clasped the young dwarf's shoulder warmly.

Kili tried to give him a smile in return. "I'm glad you're with me Bard, I would rather have you by my side than stand alone".

A sudden horn blast tore through the air and all fell silent. Kili's eyes turned to the far end of the field where a thick mist hung about the ground. There was no sound, nothing save the howl of wind winding its way about the mountain. So this was the calm before the storm… a pin drop would surely echo about the field. And then a distant drum beat reached their ears. A sound so deep and soft it was hardly there…

"They are coming…" Bard whispered and clutched at his bow.

Kili took his own small bow out; he strained his eyes trying to discern orcs in the mist. Though the drums grew louder he could see nothing… and then gradually dark shapes loomed and stepped out of the fog. Kili's heart set about beating wildly. They came into view. Disorganised line after line emerged from the mist, they seemed countless! The bow in Kili's hand felt like a toy, the sword at his side reduced to a butter knife… what could he hope to do against such overwhelming forces?

Bard seemed to have noticed the disheartened slump in the young dwarf's shoulders. "Take heart Kili. We have a good position and should take down many before they reach the ranks below".

"I'm just not sure we have enough arrows…" Kili replied humourlessly.

The ranks of orcs and goblins came to a standstill. Their leader strode forwards, Azog, with Bolg at his side. He seemed to take in the force before him. The dwarves and men ahead, archers on high behind and elves to each side, ready to sweep in like a pincer… He looked at them all and he barked out a laugh. That laugh chipped away at Kili's confidence all the more. Were they really such a pathetic force? They inspired laughter, not fear? Azog held his mace aloft and roared. The sound seemed to rush over the battlefield and crash into them. And then the ranks of goblins and orcs charged forwards. The noise was tremendous - clanking bits of armour and blade, guttural growls and high pitched shrieks. Underneath it all the relentless deep thrum of a drum sounded. It was enough to reverberate through Kili's bones. The cacophony stood in stark contrast to the unsettling quiet before… so the storm had arrived.

Bard shouted for his men to ready their weapons and draw. Kili took an arrow from his quiver with practised ease and fit it to his bowstring. He pulled it back to his chin, feeling the wax touched string press against his lips. Then he waited… each moment seemed a lifetime.

The enemy stepped within range.

"Loose volley!" Bard cried out.

It was echoed by the commanders along each protrusion of rock, and a rain of arrows flew into the air. Kili let his hand go lax and pulled it back out of the way as the arrow shot forwards. It joined the rest, plummeting into the horde of orcs and goblins. A few with shields had the wherewithal to raise them, but a good number fell, too taken with bloodlust to heed their own protection.

The archers managed one more volley before the two armies crashed into each other below. Kili kept an eye out for his brother, watching him impale a goblin as the two sides met. The heavily armoured dwarves had fared well in the clash; they did not move back nor flinch. But what the goblins lacked in armour they made up for with sheer numbers. The order came to fire at will, and so Kili aimed as close to the front line as he dared. He did not want any dwarf to shift at the last moment and take his arrow.

Kili was suddenly pulled to one side. He nearly lost his footing, but was glad when a hefty black fletched arrow flew past where he had stood. Bard held the young dwarf up and got him steady on his feet.

"Are you alright?"

Kili gave a breathless nod. He had been so taken with looking after his brother's safety he had neglected his own.

"Have a care Master Dwarf; their archers have moved close enough to take a shot at us. You didn't think it would be that easy did you?" Bard said with a slight grin.

"I thought I told you to call me Kili, and of course not!" Kili was too unnerved to make light of his near miss.

Bard just gave him a companionable clap on the shoulder and returned to the business of shooting.

~oOo~

And felled in the night
By the ones you think you love

Tauriel had found Kili… he moved into position at the top of a rocky outcrop not far from where she stood. So he had not followed her request, he had come to the field of battle… Tauriel supposed she had expected as much. He was reckless after all. Thranduil was talking the plans through with a small gathering of elves. Every time he turned to address another she surreptitiously glanced over at Kili. The sight of him lightened her heart, though she couldn't help worry for him. Aside from the battle at hand if Thranduil noticed the dwarf Prince he would see Kili dead… and he would press her to do the deed as agreed.

The Elf King was an imposing sight in his shining armour. Though there was little sun to be seen on this grey day his crown seemed to glint upon his golden head.

"To your positions, the enemy draws near!" Thranduil finally dismissed the elves, but as Tauriel made to leave he called her back. "Legolas, Tauriel, stay a moment".

The elf maid looked at him with confusion. "But my Lord, we have to command-"

"I know what you have to do. I gave you those orders myself, but now I have asked you to stay a moment, and so you shall". Thranduil's piercing blue eyes seemed to pin her to the spot.

Tauriel gave a fleeting look to Legolas, the Prince seemed as confused as she was. A distant drum beat reached their ears. They could not see the field of battle standing at the bottom of the rocky outcrop as they were, but the enemy was surely in sight for the archers above.

"Father, the enemy approaches… we must take action". Legolas urged.

"You're right, we must. Follow me". Thranduil swept past and Tauriel followed in his wake, Legolas by her side.

The cacophony of an approaching army reached the elves, and a call went up for the archers to loose their arrows. The battle had started… where was Thranduil leading them?! Sounds of chaos filtered down to them, they felt one step removed from the battle walking behind the line of rocky protrusions. Archers felled by orcish arrows dropped like rag dolls. As one tumbled down to the ground at their feet Thranduil swept deftly around him. Tauriel stopped to check for signs of life, but the poor man was shot clean through the throat, it was hopeless…

And then Tauriel noticed they were drawing closer to Kili's position. Her heart started hammering… oh no

"You thought I hadn't noticed. But you should know by now Tauriel, nothing escapes my notice. You will draw much blood this night, but your first blood will not be black, it will not come from goblin nor orc… it will run red". Thranduil stopped where Tauriel dreaded he would – The bottom of the outcrop where Kili stood. "I believe we have an agreement, and I believe your black haired dwarven archer stands above us".

Tauriel shook her head and looked to Thranduil with shining eyes, silently begging him not to make her do this. He was unmoved, his countenance of ice showed neither delight nor regret… just insistence that his will be done.

"My Lord… have mercy…" Tauriel tried speaking for Kili, but she felt as if her breath had suddenly been cut off.

"It is unnatural Tauriel. This is what happens when you give your heart away so carelessly. You know nothing could ever come of it. The only way this ends is if he ends. Your loyalty is to me Tauriel, not dwarves… not that dwarf". Thranduil spat his last words out. His icy demeanour seemed to melt with a spark of anger.

"Spare him, please… I will never see him again after this battle, I swear it". Tauriel asked, desperation tainting her voice.

"You also swore to end his life not so long ago. Can I not trust what you say?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "Very well… I told you he dies by your hand or mine".

Thranduil reached for his bow.

"Father… we do not have time for this. We must join the battle". Legolas tried to intervene.

"The sooner the dwarf dies the sooner we can join the battle". Thranduil brushed his son off. "Tauriel, take out your bow. That is an order".

Under the Elf King's harsh words Tauriel did as commanded. She took up her slender bow, but her arms felt dead, she wouldn't draw it. She couldn't kill Kili, she had done everything in her power to save him… every bone in her body screamed out for her not to do this.

"Very well". Thranduil took out his bow, and put an arrow to the string.

In an instant Tauriel drew an arrow of her own and aimed for the top of the slope. Tears blurred her eyes as she got Kili in her sights… she didn't want to do this, but she wouldn't have him kill the young dwarf.

"Let it go Tauriel. Loose your arrow and this will all be over". Thranduil's voice coaxed. "He will pass into long forgotten memory, he would never have lived that long… you have already seen several of his lifetimes. End this".

Just then the archer standing next to Kili took an orcish arrow to the chest and fell back. The young dwarf turned to tend him together with Bard, and then he noticed Tauriel… Kili smiled so warmly at seeing her, but joy quickly passed from his face. It was replaced with confusion and then horror. She was aiming an arrow at him. It would only take a slip of the fingers and he would die.

"Shoot him!" Thranduil savagely hissed.

An arrow took to the air, flying straight and true. It embedded itself in Kili's shoulder, having been expertly aimed at the gap in his armour. The young dwarf looked shocked. He reeled backwards from the impact, his feet stumbled and slipped... he was too close to the edge. Bard shouted Kili's name and flung himself forwards, but it was too late.

"KILI!" Tauriel dropped her bow and screamed as Kili disappeared from view.

She turned around aghast to find Legolas with his bow raised and a distinctly sick look upon his face.

"Why Legolas?" Tauriel asked.

She received no answer and so Tauriel turned to run up the outcrop of rocks. A firm hand stopped her, taking an iron grip about her upper arm.

"This business is concluded. To your positions now, both of you". Thranduil's icy manner had returned. "Legolas, I will speak with you later".

Tauriel gave the Elf King a look of such unbridled loathing. If the arrow didn't kill Kili the fall probably would have, and it was this elf's doing! She didn't care if he was a King; she wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her! She wanted to scream that she loved the young dwarf, she wanted to shout that she would find more comfort and warmth with Kili in his lifetime than she would in a hundred lifetimes with Thranduil's ilk! But just as Tauriel opened her mouth a gentle hand took her arm and pulled her away…

"Come Tauriel, our men need us…"

She followed Legolas a few steps, glaring at Thranduil's impassive face before the Elf King too turned away. And then her anger and her grief fell upon the one who had loosed the arrow.

"Why did you do it Legolas?!" He still held on to her arm, she fiercely shook him off and pushed him in the chest. "Why did you have to shoot him?!"

Legolas stepped back under Tauriel's assault, but he didn't defend himself, he just looked down… face full of regret.

"Were you jealous?! Could you not stand the way he looked at me? Is that it? You wanted him dead!"

"I shot him so you wouldn't have to!" Legolas suddenly shouted. It seemed the accusation was too much. "I wanted to spare you that pain… I gave him a wound he could survive; I did not intend him to fall… I wanted him to live".

Tauriel was stunned into open mouthed shock. Legolas had been trying to do her a kindness?

"True, I did not like the way the dwarf looked at you… but I couldn't help but notice you looked at him in the same way. Whatever you think of me Tauriel I do not want to see you hurt… I would not see you kill the one you love, and I know Thranduil would not have spared the dwarf. His arrow would have aimed to kill. So I did what I had to".

And then it fell into place. She saw from Legolas' point of view… Tauriel, wavering, her heart screaming out not to slaughter her love, and Thranduil, the executioner, eager for blood… There was another way. The dwarf could be shot and live, but Legolas had to do it. Tauriel would not loose the arrow, he knew it, and Thranduil's shot would kill. He had to do it… the time was now.

"I am sorry Legolas… I have misjudged you". Tauriel spoke with a crack in her voice.

As the urge to lash out died away it was replaced by sorrow in Tauriel's heart. She looked back to the outcrop, the place where Kili had fallen. Did his broken body lie below? Was he alone? He never wanted to be alone…

"Tauriel, we must join the battle. There will be time to grieve the fallen afterwards…"

Tauriel took the small white horse figurine from her pocket, clutched it tightly between her hands and raised them to her lips… please let him live

~oOo~

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates
The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the heights ahead

Screams rent the air along the rocks as archers became victims of the enemy arrows. Kili's wild eyes shot between aiming his bow, watching out for his brother, and trying to spot any enemy arrows coming their way. It was too much. The young dwarf let his instincts take over, conscious thought slowed him down. Taking an arrow, fitting it to the bowstring, drawing and loosing… it all happened automatically, as if he had no say in the matter.

The line of dwarves had begun to break apart below. Goblins and orcs split the ranks, and though they fell under sword and axe another few moved in to take their place. It seemed inevitable the dwarves were being pushed back. The elves cut in to the intruding army's flanks, but their numbers seemed endless. All sense of order had given way to chaos. Leaders tried to rally their troops, but attempts to organise manoeuvres were largely thwarted by the swarm of orcs and goblins.

A cry sounded from the man stood next to Kili. A brutish orc arrow had caught him in the chest. Bard quickly went to his side and Kili turned to see if he might help. He was more than surprised to find Tauriel! Delight lit up his face at seeing the elf maid, but she had her bow drawn… and it was pointing his way. Why? What was sh-

It hit him like a hard punch, taking the air from his lungs. The Prince had shot him! There was a strange moment where time suspended. Kili knew the wound should hurt, and he was granted an immeasurable moment to contemplate the pain he knew was going to come. Too soon time caught up with him, along with the pain. Like fire it exploded from his shoulder. Kili found himself staggering back from the impact; he stumbled near the edge and lost his footing… His senses were so clouded he couldn't reach out to save himself… Someone was shouting his name. Who was shouting his name? Was it her? Would she come to save him? Tauriel!

Kili fell. It was not a straight drop down, ledges and rocks jutted from the outcrop helping to break his fall. The young dwarf supposed he should be thankful, a straight drop would probably have broken his neck and ended it all, but he didn't feel thankful. He was battered and bruised by the time he came to land in a thick grassy tussock. Somewhere along the way the arrow shaft had broken off after colliding against a rock. His scream had robbed him of breath. Kili lay on his back, the world seemed to spin. He tried to slow his breathing… his heart was racing. He couldn't lie here, he had to get up. Battle raged dangerously close by and if an orc broke through he was a sitting duck. He had to get up. Get up!

The young dwarf mentally shouted at his body, but it didn't want to obey. At least the spinning was beginning to stop. The grey clouds above raced by in the wind, the overwhelming roar of battle rang out around him. An idle thought floated about Kili's mind… he had disappointed his brother. He hadn't stayed on the outcrop as he had promised to do so. Perhaps later he would get a chance to apologise… The absurdity of apologising for being shot off a rock face didn't register in his state of shock. Slowly Kili brought his hand up to the shaft in his left shoulder. His fingers explored lightly… only a few inches or so remained protruding from the wound. The young dwarf was grateful elven arrows were more slender and fine built than their orcish counterparts. Had he been hit with one of those brutish things he wouldn't have much of a shoulder left… It dawned on him then. Legolas had shot him. Tauriel was going to shoot him. Why? What? Kili's mind reeled playing back over the moment…

A dry sob escaped Kili's throat as he gripped the shaft in his shoulder and tried to understand what happened. No… no, better to leave it for now. Should he pull the remains of the arrow out he might end up leaving the head behind, and if it came out with the shaft it would surely leave him bleeding. Why did the elves want him dead? The answer came to Kili as he recalled the hateful glare of Thranduil pointed his way. Thorin had looked at him with similar disgust. It brought into stark relief the beating he had suffered at the hands of his Uncle. Had Tauriel also confessed her love? Was his life the price her Lord demanded?

A great commotion arose from the line of dwarves nearby. It broke apart Kili's thoughts. Orcs were pushing their way through! Get up! Kili shouted at himself again, he scrambled for the sword at his side, a shot of adrenaline muting his pain. A great ugly orc came to stand over Kili as he was half way up, sword not yet free of its sheath. The beast roared and raised a cruelly serrated blade over Kili's head. And then the tip of a sword protruded from its chest. A spray of black blood hit the air as the sword withdrew; it spattered Kili in his astonishment. The orc fell back to reveal Fili standing, breathing hard, stained with gore and filth.

His brother came to Kili, offering a hand to pull him up.

"Are you alright?" Fili caught sight of his wound. "Is that an elvish arrow?"

"I can stand… I can fight, and aye, it is". Having his brother there seemed to lend Kili strength. They were together again.

"Those backstabbing…" Fili was about to launch into a few curses at seeing his brother hurt by elvish hands. Kili cut him off.

"Now is not the time Fili, I can still fight, my sword arm is still good". As if to prove it Kili swung his blade through the air a couple of times, though his left arm was clasped tight to his chest.

"Make no mistake about it, I would have you go straight to the healing tents, but the goblins have pushed forwards and cut us off. We must break through. So you will get to fight whether I like it or not… and I like it not one bit". Fili cast an appraising eye over his brother. "Stay with me, keep close, I don't want to lose you".

They turned back to the battle and Kili could see what had happened. An intrusion of goblins had split their forces in half, and the healing tents were not on their side. They were like an island adrift from the mainland. Though adrenaline flooded his body Kili felt a stab of fear all the same. They were vulnerable out here… Up on the rocks he had felt somewhat safe, he was above it all, like a bird in flight. Down here the swarm of enemies was all around, this was where you got your hands dirty… this was where you got your face bloody.

Kili raised his sword and yelled a battle cry as he followed his brother into the fray. They fought side by side and back to back, covering each other's exposed spots. The dwarves all around fought fiercely, but for every goblin cut down two more seemed to take its place. They were tiring, and not making much headway. It was inevitable some would start to fall. The first he saw left him stunned. One dwarf cut down a goblin, but as he tried to wrest his blade from its body another one, small and rat like leapt at his face. The dwarf clawed at it, but there was nothing to be done. It chittered excitedly as it plunged its knife into the poor dwarf's neck… once, twice, thrice. The goblin rejoiced at the dark red arterial spray as the dwarf fell to his knees and then to the ground… a puddle quickly formed about his head, like a bloody halo. Sick shock left Kili then as he saw red. Anger joined the adrenaline in his veins; he raised his sword and brought it down on the small body of the goblin. Once, twice, thrice… he didn't stop, he kept going. Kili was screaming, though it sounded like it came from far away, from somebody else… The goblin was split apart, its innards spilled over the ground and its blood flecked through the air, staining both Kili and its previous victim. But Kili couldn't stop himself. Not until he was spun around harshly by a hand on his arm. He raised his sword and cried out, ready to bring it down, before his eyes focussed on Fili.

"Be strong Kili, keep it together". His brother spoke forcefully, and the mania fell away from him.

They fought together again, and though more fell all about them Kili tried to do as his brother asked… He tried to keep it together. But this was not glorious. This was not heroic. This was butchery. And it was set to a symphony of horror. The sound of carving and cleaving battered his ears. The drum had long ago been silenced, a bass line was now provided by the pounding of metal on wooden shields, and over it all the screaming and crying of the injured and dying blended with the fell shrieking of goblins. Kili's feet slid on blood and gore, the ground was slick with it. It didn't belong there… it didn't belong there… the grass was green, Kili told himself, it was green, and the ground was rock strewn with large tussocks. But his eyes told a different story and his mind reeled… The field… it's covered with blood! I need to get out! Let me out! He couldn't breathe. The cloying scent of spilt innards, sweat, filth and death stuck in his throat. He needed air! He needed to… keep it together… Fili's voice filtered through Kili's breaking mind, grounding him. It kept his sword swinging, and brought a kind of numbness to every slice of his sword that caught flesh. He couldn't feel anything… not his own pain, not the lives he took. His body seemed to move of its own accord.

And then Fili shouted over the cacophony.

"Kili! Stay here! I'll come back for you!"

What? Where was he going? Kili had been so caught up in his own mind and his own battles he had failed to notice Thorin facing Azog. They stood some way away on a slight rise. Thorin looked to be flagging, he bled from many wounds, but still he raised his sword and fended off every blow from the great orc's mace. Surely he couldn't go on much longer… and sure enough Thorin was sent to his knees as Azog dealt a hefty strike to his shield. Fili dashed over, pushing aside every goblin that got in his way. Kili's heart lurched at seeing his brother and Uncle so beset, but Fili got there just in time to sink a sword into Azog's side.

Kili was brought back to his own reality with a rude awakening. A large foot struck him and he fell back to the ground, rolling through filth and scrabbling to his feet again. The young dwarf looked up with horror to find his own mace wielding orc. He was not nearly as intimidating as Azog, but this was no small stupid goblin. The orc roared a challenge and Kili roared back. Anger raced through his veins again. He would tear this one apart! The mace came flying towards Kili, he deftly side stepped and sliced at the orc's off hand. It cut into flesh but did not do any real damage. He needed to keep it together… to get into the flow of the fight. This was a deadly game of chess, with openings and targets. It had a rhythm like a dance. Kili had never been much for dancing, but this he was born to.

Targets… head, throat, arm pit, the vulnerable flesh where leg joined body… there were countless places to do damage on a body. Clusters of arteries and nerves that could be severed… it was a matter of locking on and sinking steel into them. If the orc's weapon was high he would strike low, and if the orc's mace was low he would strike high. Fight weakness with strength and strength with weakness. There was simplicity to the theory of wielding a sword, a simplicity that belied the reality. When beset by horrors, when quickly running through your reserves of adrenaline, when you stumble over the bodies of fallen allies… All theory flew from his mind when that mace came down again. They exchanged a series of blows, neither one gaining advantage over the other. And then the orc came at Kili with a hefty side swipe of his mace. Kili backed off and as the mace sailed by with the brute force put into the blow he jumped back in with a thrust. Just as the tip found flesh the orc recovered and swept his mace arm back, pushing Kili away to the side. He managed to keep his feet, and carried on wheeling around, hoping he could outmanoeuvre the orc and get a shot in at his back. Sure enough he managed a nice slice that split the skin clean across. The orc howled his displeasure and pain to the sky. Kili gave a slight manic grin; it didn't last long as the orc whirled about striking savagely with his weapon. The mace drove into Kili's sword arm. He lost the blade as he felt bone give way. The ground hit him hard. Kili was sure he screamed before he was given over to pained gasping.

Kili felt the orc approach. Those hefty footsteps were his herald of doom… it stood over him, regarding the young dwarf with a grunt. Then a cruel smile split its ugly face. Where was Fili? Fili was going to come back for him. Fili said he was coming back… The orc stepped on Kili's shattered arm and ground his heel into the young dwarf's wrist and hand. More bones snapped as the beast put his full weight into it. This was beyond hurt… this was beyond agony… This was blinding white hot pain that drove his mind from his body. Kili writhed helplessly, trying in vain to escape whatever was hurting him. He flailed like a wild animal caught in a trap… and he screamed and screamed and screamed. If Kili's eyes were not blurred with tears he would see pure delight on the orc's face at the pain he was causing.

"FILI!" The cry tore from Kili's throat. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was saying. Some recess of his mind thought he should shout that name.

"What is it boy? Do you call for your mother?" The orc's gravelled voice said with a hint of amusement.

The beast's foot gave a last brutal twist before he stepped away. Kili's vision whited out for a moment, when it came back there was a mace held high over his head. The end… the end… it had come…

And then there was a familiar flash of blonde hair. "Get away from him!"

Fili had been true to his word.

Moments passed like ages, Kili could only lie still and keep breathing. His breaths were rapid and shallow, his heart thundered and fluttered, he felt like a small rabbit. Pain was all he knew. And then there were warm gentle hands on his face, against his chest. Concerned eyes… a blood stained face…

Somewhere a voice shouted in alarm. "Prince Fili, more come!"

"Hold on Kili, I'll be back. I promise you I'll come back".

And the hands were gone.

Kili kept breathing. He was cursed with a degree of awareness, though his mind seemed to claw and rail against it, seeking an escape from the pain. The sound of battle did not abate; it ebbed and flowed around him. Lying on the ground he noticed how it shook, disturbed by the rhythm of battle. He shifted his head to the right. Amongst the blood stained ground sat a patch of weeds bearing small yellow flowers. Kili tried to concentrate on them, if he could focus on something so small it might grant his mind the escape he sought… The young dwarf took in how yellow the delicate petals were. They were beautiful to his mind. He recalled taking similar flowers for his mother. Fili laughed and told him they were ugly weeds, but Dis had smelt them and declared them lovely all the same… Beauty was in the eye of the beholder she had said. Kili looked in worthless places and found… Death! Death leapt before his eyes! With a hefty crash a dwarf dropped down and crushed the delicate flowers. His eyes were wide as they met Kili's, he was not yet dead… Thick red blood ran between his lips, the dwarf made a horrendous gurgling sound, drowning on his own life's blood. He was so close, no more than a foot lay between their faces. Had Kili's arm worked he would reach it out to offer some comfort, but pain like lightening ran up the limb as he twitched his fingers. There was no comfort to be had here in this place.

The young dwarf could only watch as the elder struggled to breathe, eventually his struggles stopped, and Kili saw the moment death took hold… The dwarf's eyes went suddenly sightless, and then they glazed over, his body went lax. Death had come… Death was here… Kili wanted to scream with the horror of it but found he couldn't. He was transfixed by the eyes of the dead dwarf beside him. They were grey, with pinpoint pupils staring at him… looking through him… He couldn't raise an arm to close those eyes. Kili told himself to turn away. He looked up at the grey sky above, clouds rushed by and gradually gave way to glint of sunlight. It hurt his eyes, but he couldn't shield them. So he turned to his left… a sea of bodies littered the ground, further away the fighting continued, and behind them all in the distance loomed the mountain. Erebor. The cause of all this bloodshed… their birthright… their doom… It had set them on this quest, it had turned their Uncle mad, and now it presided over their deaths. It was almost as painful to look at as the sun… so Kili turned back to the right. He was met with the vacant stare of his dead friend. Those piercing sightless eyes held him. It was like looking into the abyss, and even as his heart screamed with the horror of it Kili couldn't look away.

A distant shout drifted on the air… "The eagles are coming!"

He needed to close those eyes. He couldn't stand it any more. Kili tried to raise his arm, but the wave of pain that took him made the world fade away to black. He failed to close the eyes of death's pale mask; instead he was robbed of his own sight, and he was glad.