Chapter Fourteen
Another arrow stabbed Fili's back. Another stab of pain shot through him. Thorin lay at his feet, wounded and unconscious, covered in blood, but alive. A goblin came charging at the body, determined to be the one to kill the future king. Fili's eyes widened, and, without thinking, he seized his uncle's axe, which lay beside him, and threw it at the attacker. He went down with a shriek and a painful thud. Fili dashed to the body, pain rippling through him, and wrenched the axe from the goblin's flesh. Suddenly he felt another stab of pain. Fili sank to his knees. He tried desperately to rise to his feet, refusing the threat of defeat, determined to protect his uncle to the last, but to no avail. All he could feel was the pain. All he could hear were the cries of death and the clash of metal, on metal or in flesh, muffled by blood which had trickled into his ears.
Fili gazed around the battle. Elves, who should've lived for many ages more, lay dead, scattered around. Folk from all armies lay wounded and dying. Through the crowd he saw Dwalin behead a goblin. Oin fight off a warg. Bifur turning, narrowly avoiding a deathly spear. But where was Kili? He, too, had been defending his uncle, who both knew would not last long after the battle. Not that it mattered. His uncle would survive the battle. He promised, as he stood on the floor of his parent's bedroom, Thorin's arms wrapped around him, that he would protect his uncle. To the last. And he'd protect Kili. Kili? Where was his brother? Fili looked desperately around. Kili had been with him, protecting Thorin.
"Kili?" he tried to call out, but pain rushed through him, knocking the breath out of him, shoving him to the floor. He scraped his face on the hard stone and tasted blood. He lifted his face from the floor and searched for his brother through vision blurred by pain and blood. He saw a shape lying on the floor next to his uncle. Fili shook his head, trying to focus. Kili. There he was, lying still, eyes half open, a trail of blood dripping down his face. Abandoning the axe, Fili crawled over to his brother, pain shooting through his whole body with every movement. "No," he whispered as he reached him. Kili was as still as the ground he was lying on. Fili closed his eyes as a pain shot through him, a pain much worse than any inflicted by arrows, as he believed his brother lost. He did not defend him. He did not protect him, when he needed protection most. "No," he breathed, and just as he was about to give up all hope, he heard a soft voice.
"Brother?" Kili breathed.
"Kili?" Fili whispered. Fili found his brother's hand and took it in his. "Oh, Kili…" Kili squeezed Fili's hand gently, and opened his eyes wide enough to look into his brother's.
"Stay with me?" he choked.
"Stay with me?" Kili asked, looking up at his older brother, who was standing over him. Fili smiled down at the little boy, who was looking at him with pleading eyes.
"I will stay here," Fili agreed, kneeling beside Kili's bed and stroking his hair. "Until you are sleeping." The little boy smiled back at his brother and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as sleep overwhelmed him.
"Until you are sleeping," Fili whispered, as Kili's hand became limp in his, unable to find the strength within him to hold onto his brother any longer. Kili looked at his brother one last time before closing his eyes. His breathing slowed, and stopped, as his final sleep overwhelmed him.
"Then I can sleep soundly, knowing you are safe," Fili breathed, one glistening tear streaking down his face, making a path through the mud and blood. And with one last painful smile at his sleeping brother, Fili closed his eyes.