"Worry won't make the work go any faster."

Tauriel forced herself not to startle visibly, not having sensed the dwarrowdam's approach. It wasn't like her to allow her focus to narrow so fully as to be unaware of her surroundings. That wasn't good. She licked her lips and forced her hand to let go of the chained rock dangling from about her neck. It surprised her that her fingers felt so stiff. She'd lost herself in her fears over Kili.

Erelinde stood next to her, her own sky-blue eyes showing the struggle of concern as well. "They are fine. In fact, they're crazed with worry about our well-being. Probably fighting to see which one of them gets to us first."

The she-elf recognized the tight tone of stating what was wished and hoped for, as if will-power alone could make it a reality. "Just so." She agreed, though with some reluctance. She did accept the small silver cup handed to her, one that they'd found in one of the trunks down here, while they'd been searching for tools. The water tasted clean and nearly frigid. Unable to voice her true worries, she focused only on what was in front of her. "Is it safe to drink the spring water?"

Erelinde nodded, giving a tired smile. "Very." The usually beautiful dam was looking worn around the edges, and Tauriel was sure she looked no better. Dust and grime caked them both, having mixed with sweat and formed a near crust on their skin and clothing.

In fact, the only clean part on the she-elf was her wounded left eye and temple, since Brunere had insisted on wrapping pieces of cloth torn from one of the linens the dam had carried on her. Literally. Erelinde had laughed, stating the Men had a saying about giving someone 'the shirt off their backs' and that's exactly what Brunere had used for the make-shift bandage leaving the dam in her leathers and woolens alone.

It made Tauriel uneasy in an odd way. Friendships under the Lonely Mountain were not something she'd even considered to be within reach when she'd left the Mirkwood. It had proven a revelation to the she-elf, actually. Ori. Brunere. Sealyn. Erelinde. Bifur and several others. They ignored her internal walls built up high from centuries living in the High Elf kingdom and palace. And these dwarves, once accepting, did so with their whole beings and hearts. It was …beyond anything she would ever have considered or imagined. Not that she'd been without friendships in the past, but they were more cautious in many ways.

Cautious. Like being friends with a prince.

Legolas. Her mind stumbled as her breath caught in sorrow, wishing her friend was here. The prince had ever been her sounding board, listening without judgement and with an open heart. When his father wasn't around. Tauriel's frown deepened and she gave a small sigh at the memories. Legolas, it pained her greatly that he could not see that they were not meant for one another. Though at one time in her life, she had thought that …maybe. Until Kili.

Tauriel stopped breathing for a moment as fear nearly overwhelmed her once more. Ruthlessly she pushed away all thoughts of her dark-eyed love, refusing to focus on the possible danger to him until she could be free of this place.

"It will be our shift again soon." Erelinde said softly, interrupting the she-elf's maudlin musings. The dam was looking over at where the main focus of their efforts were targeted. There was a huge slab covering over half the tunnel on the right side, leaving a slash of diagonal rubble at the left corner, tightly packed. The dwarrow had explained to her that the slab was stable at the moment, though how they judged that she had no clue. So the plan was to dig out through that small corner, trying to clear a way. A way out. The area was small, so they worked in three shifts. One to dig, one to cart away debris, while the third rested. In this manner they took turns.

Tauriel handed the small silver cup back to her friend, her eyes moving back to the focus of her attention and the work they were doing. "It is taking too long." The red-head's hand moved once more to her necklace that Kili had given her. It felt no different. How strange that something that had been glowing for hours had no temperature change. Her only comfort was that the stone still glowed. She'd decided its magic was keyed to Kili and not just the person wearing the item. Which meant that he was still alive, in danger, but still alive.

Tauriel clung to that idea, right now, it was all she had.

A sharp whistle from one dwarrow had them all stopping, taking a deep breath. Those that had been digging, moved to take their rest break, while those that had been clearing debris took their places. Tauriel and Erelinde stood, ready to take their shift at carting away the debris the diggers were shifting around. Of them all, only Brunere didn't take a turn at digging, due to her broken hand. She insisted on taking two shifts at clearing away the rubble out of sheer stubbornness however. Tauriel worried over her injury, but approved her inner strength.

She approved a lot. These dwarrowdams were something special, and they were her friends. "Thank you." The she-elf murmured to Erelinde as the duo began their turn at the grimy job.

"Shush!" One of the male dwarrow suddenly stood upright. Everyone stilled, straining to listen.

Tauriel swallowed, hoping it wasn't more of the ominous creaking and groaning noises they'd heard from time to time. The dwarves had assured her the place was stable once more, but she couldn't help her already frayed nerves.

Relieved smiles bloomed around her, making the red-head blink in confusion. She had not even realized how tense the dwarves had been holding themselves until she saw their expressions change. Hope rose up within her as she eyed her friends, then turned her gaze upon the Lady Dis. The dwarrow princess was nodding and smiling as well. Tauriel caught her breath. Even with her elven hearing, all she could hear was the same creaking and groaning of stone settling, and she said so.

Brunere shook her head, pushing her lank and sweat soaked hair back behind her ears where some strands had worked loose from her normally fastidious braids. "It's rhythmic, not stone upon stone, but metal upon stone."

Tauriel's green eyes lit up, though she continued to feel reluctant to believe, in case her hopes turned out to be a false alarm.

As if sensing this reluctance, Dis's smile softened as she walked over to the she-elf. "They're clearing a way to us." She reached out and took Tauriel's grimy hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. "The digging will take a while yet, this was no small collapse. But relief is coming."

"They're really out there." Tauriel's voice nearly cracked.

Surprised, Dis' eyes widened. "Did you think we alone survived?"

The red-head listened with all her worth, not giving a direct answer. She heard the creaks and groans, but now that she knew what to expect she could tell there was a rhythm to the noise that hadn't been there before.

Dis squeezed her hand once more before letting go, though her hand didn't move away immediately. Tauriel saw the dam's hand hesitate near her necklace with the softly glowing stone. "He lives." The elf whispered, it was all she could offer the dwarven mother.

The dam's sharply blue eyes flew to meet the elf's green eyed gaze. This time reassurance went the other way. Tauriel forced herself to speak lightly. "If it glows, he still lives."

Dis nodded, having already heard the explanation on the origins of the signal stone. She knew, they both did, that there was no guarantee that the stone was indicating a danger to Kili rather than to the elf.

"He lives." Tauriel repeated fervently.

Dis nodded, agreeing out of faith. And need. "They all do." She added.

The she-elf nodded with a jerky motion of her head.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The first two waves of attacks have been repelled, the walls are holding."

King Thorin II of Erebor grunted with approval at the messenger. "What else?" He knew there was more.

The black-bearded dwarrow nodded and then shrugged. "Lord Dain sends word that the tall Wizard, not the white one, but the other two with that tall elf are attacking. Trying to make it back to us."

Sapphire eyes closed a moment in relief. His relationship with Gandalf might be touchy at times, but he felt better just knowing the wizard hadn't betrayed them. Or left. "Can aught be done to assist them?"

The messenger nodded, looking a bit relieved by the king's response. "Lord Dain is already fighting his way toward them."

This surprised Thorin a bit, then he firmed his mouth. No. Dain had felt and seen the elves holding up the entirety of Erebor's massive weight to save the dwarves. Honor would overcome any reticence the dwarven leader might have to assist Glorfindel and his companions. "Good." With a quick nod to dismiss the dwarrow, the king turned to the next report. Then he stopped. He coughed to reclaim the messenger's attention. "Gloin?"

For the first time the bearded dwarrow dropped his gaze, though only for a second. He grunted. "At the leading point on all assaults." A pause. "Except for the foray leading to the ...wizards." Here his voice dipped slightly lower on volume.

Balin, bloody and bruised and limping, hurried up to the king right at that last sentence. Confused he glanced at Thorin. The king shook his head at him and dismissed the messenger once more. "Gloin will not make effort to relieve Gandalf and Radagast." He said in a near whisper.

The white-bearded dwarrow nodded. Thorin noted there were some drops of blood staining his old friend's usually meticulously coifed beard. He wondered at the origin, but did not ask. Balin would not appreciate the question, nor would most dwarrow in fact. If there was news, he'd share it and that was that.

Balin whistled sharply, turning all immediately close-by eyes in their direction. But it was to the departing messenger he was looking. "Tell Gloin that his son is aiding the rescue of the dwarrowdam quarters."

Something heavy felt like it lifted right off of Thorin's heart and he grunted with approval even as the messenger nodded swiftly and finally exited the area. Gimli lived. That was one unknown moved into the proper accounting. "Good."

"Indeed." Balin sighed, running a hand in agitation over his beard. The blood did not smear. Dried already then and not fresh. "Lord Elrond is helping with the healing in the main hall, though he looks about ready to fall over himself."

Thorin nodded, he'd too seen the grayish cast of exhaustion weigh heavily upon the Rivendell leader. He could not fathom the sheer amount of effort it had taken the elves to hold up the weight of an entire mountain until the dwarrow had been able to reclaim the kingdom from Saruman's foul spell. Or had it been Sauron's? The king frowned, a discussion for another time. Now that they had another time to look forward to in the first place. "The Lady and her husband?"

"Lord Celeborn is giving assist in the lower mining shafts." Balin's eyebrows rose, letting his monarch know he was surprised by his own news. "He helps with his magics to shore up the loose fill in and allow the diggers to affect rescues."

"The Lady?" Thorin wondered when he'd stopped being regally polite and called her such even within his own head, instead of 'the witch of the wood'.

Balin shrugged uneasily.

Thorin looked around the area, as if seeking a sign of the golden glow usually emanating from that person. All he saw was organized chaos all around him. "Fili?" He dismissed Galadriel from his mind. He had no right to order her around, and no cause to question her whereabouts.

"The Tigett shaft is gone." Balin's voice was flat and careful. "Recovery, not rescue." Meaning all who had been there were crushed. "I've had Fergard look and he concurs with the supervisors down there. There is nothing to be done at this time."

The king heard the sorrow in the counselor's voice. "Where else could he have gone?"

Balin made a harsh sound at the back of his throat. "The prince …that's where he would have been."

Thorin turned the full effect of his sapphire eyes onto his old friend and advisor, making Balin take a step back before his spine straightened. "Fili does not wait. He lives, and since he is not with us, then he must be cut off from us."

Finding himself nodding, Balin winced, drawing his mouth into a sour expression.

"No. I am not crazed. The Lady tells me that my crown prince yet lives and I choose to believe her." Thorin avowed while pointing a finger harshly at the dwarrow in front of him. "Find him."

"There are a lot of trapped, wounded and ….there are a LOT of dwarves in this mountain. Fili is not kin to her. She and the other elves are exhausted beyond all telling." Here the white-bearded dwarrow's voice softened, still in awe about what the elves had done for them all.

Thorin grunted, knowing that Balin was suggesting that the Lady might be wrong. He too wondered for a moment, then saw again her eyes as she'd told him his heir still lived. "He breathes still and does not yet wait. I want him found."

Responding to his king's sure manner, Balin bowed deeply.

"Kili?"

"There is yet no word, sire."

Thorin nodded even as more messengers raced up toward him, standing just far enough away to allow the king to acknowledge them before approaching with their news.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili groaned, feeling wrung out down to the very marrow of his bones. His head was banging with the sound of rock on rock. Thudding harshly and echoing into the dark. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his thoughts. Kili and his brother were used to guarding caravans and travelling, ever in danger of raiders or worse. Waking up alert was not just a way of life, it was a necessity.

Sitting up, Kili ran his tongue over his teeth as he subconsciously flexed his fingers and toes. They all responded. His chest hurt, ached, but breathing wasn't fiery so probably no broken ribs.

"You're alive. Good. Hold this."

A lantern was thrust into his hand as the world wobbled. No. Kili looked around quickly. He was being carried on a stretcher. Without thought he swung his legs to one side and slid off onto his own two feet. The world spun alarmingly and he had to brace himself on the shoulder of a dwarrow with whom he did not know.

"Steady lad." The older dwarf cautioned, though with a nod of approval.

"Saruman?" Kili tried out his voice, finding it hoarse. Last he remembered the damned wizard was trying to kill his uncle, father, and grandfather. There was something else, but he couldn't quite bring it to mind.

"Escaped." The older dwarrow turned his head and spat in disgust.

Kili licked his suddenly dry lips.

They didn't make him ask. A familiar face moved into the circle of light. Ori. His distant cousin looked grimy and his face had a streak of blood from a slice along his forehead, but he was smiling. "The King and your elvish uncle bid us take you and your father to the healers."

The brunette nodded, then immediately regretted the movement as his head started banging again. He winced and shook himself. So. Thorin and Elrohir were alive. His father too, or he wouldn't need a healer.

Ori frowned, putting his hand on Kili's shoulder. "Short and quick version. The mountain tried to come down around us. We can't go back and the way to the healer's hall crumbled. Remember when Bilbo complained about the lack of stair railings? Well, now there are no stairs in places."

Kili nodded, the movement making him go pale and swallow hard to keep his stomach in its assigned position. He looked around more carefully, trying to push the headache away as he struggled to find focus. Ori. Four Iron Hills dwarrow, and another pallet. With a body far too still upon it. He groaned.

Ori's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Your father still breathes." He said reassuringly before letting go.

The dark-haired prince stepped toward the stretcher holding his father when his knees quaked and he stumbled. Ori was back immediately, wrapping his strong arm around the taller dwarrow half-blood. "Easy."

Kili's eyes were on Elladan, but saw no movement beyond the slightest rise and fall of his chest. And even that he wasn't sure of. With Ori's help he walked closer, putting his hand on his father's chest. It moved. Shallowly, but it moved. The prince's hand rose to touch the back of his hand to Elladan's cheek. Cold, but not the chill of death.

Kili knew death, how could he not? He was a dwarf who'd grown up in mean circumstances and around Humans. He guarded caravans and fought innumerable times in his short life already. But death to a loved one …his mind stalled. Loved one? He traced the lines of Elladan's face and let his hand fall. "What happened?" He deliberately turned away from his own stray thought.

"Saruman turned against us." Ori grimaced and shrugged. "Wasn't there for that, and heard some talk that Sauron was with him."

Kili paled further, feeling his gorge rise at the thought of the Dark Deceiver within Erebor. "All I saw was Saruman."

Ori and the other dwarrow nodded as they took the opportunity to open their water pouches and take a brief break. Letting the young prince gather his strength and legs beneath himself once more. The ones holding Elladan's stretcher put it down for the moment.

"Heard you hit Saruman, knocked his hold loose on the king and the others." A blond-bearded dwarrow commented with respect and a short nod.

"I did?" Kili's voice rose a bit as he struggled with his headache while trying to remember.

"Thorin said it himself." Ori agreed with the others.

"Oh." The dark-haired prince shook his head, trying to piece the fragmented memories he had of the attack together into something resembling reality. He just felt cold, achy, and empty. Hollow actually.

"Sauron came." Ori's face screwed up with confusion as if he didn't quite understand himself. "I think. Anyway. The elves were fighting and the king tasked me with getting you and your father to the healers. Only, while on our way, Erebor tried to crash down around us."

"Someone sang the Song of Stone." A dwarrow cleared his throat and shrugged. "Many someones. You can still feel it." All the other dwarves nodded.

Kili moved without grace over to the nearest wall, bracing himself against it. He frowned. Nothing. He could feel and hear nothing.

"It's good to have the stone respond so well." An older dwarf remarked, moving up beside the prince and patting the wall as if it were a living creature. "The mountain recognizes King Thorin." He smiled at the younger heir.

Kili dropped his hand as if the stone were hot. He'd felt nothing. No hum, no song, no power. Was he not dwarven enough for the mountain? He pushed the ill thought away and looked up at the ceilings he knew to be over them, though he could not see so high in the dim light of the lone lantern he still carried.

"We doused the others, to conserve oil." Ori told him, catching the expression on his cousin's face.

"Smart." Kili responded absently, still reeling with the realization he could not hear Erebor or the Song of Stone. He frowned, looking at the architecture around him as best he could. "I don't recognize where we are." He deliberately changed the subject.

"Crafting halls are that way." One dwarrow pointed out hesitantly. "This is the secondary hub, we had to go around the long way. The main stairs got crushed and we were stuck on a middle level near the baths."

Kili turned and his stomach fell as he saw the crushing fall of rocks and debris that might as well have erased the main stairs to the crafting halls. Erelinde. Had she been in there? "Who waits?" He asked bitterly.

"We don't know." Ori shrugged, deliberately not thinking of his own brothers and how he wasn't sure of their locations. "But not us." He pointed at the stretcher-bearers, who jumped back to take up Elladan once more.

"I won't be carried." Kili grimaced, cautiously taking a step and relieved when he held himself up.

Ori nodded while another dwarrow moved to the prince's opposite side. Kili handed off the lantern and they made their way through the dim corridor, or what was left of it. Every step was a struggle and his head swam a dozen times before they'd gone a hundred yards. It took two dwarves to help support him, but he was on his own feet. It was a dwarrow thing.

"We are stone." Someone muttered.

Everyone repeated the words, even Kili, though they felt empty and hollow within his mouth. With his mixed blood, was he stone?

What was he?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Galadriel stood with the dwarrow currently guarding the main walls of Erebor. She was making them nervous, though through no intent of her own.

Small looks were being thrown her way from small groups of dwarrow who were gripping their weapons tightly.

The Lady knew without a word being spoken that she confused these poor dwarves from the Iron Hills. Their thoughts buffeted her like a wind with no clear direction, as if before a storm.

She and hers had held up Erebor, allowing the Dwarves time to shore up their kingdom. Protecting them. Fighting FOR them. Against Saruman. Or Sauron. They were confused on this bit, as they should be. As she was herself.

Saruman. Sauron's puppet. Willingly. For how long? How had she not known? How could she not sense? For the first time in several millennia she felt as a young elfling not in control. Betrayal bit deep.

No. Saruman had not ever been a favorite of hers, but that meant little. Who was she? An elf who had lived a very long time. So what? All the more time to make mistakes, the longer the time the greater the mistake? Perhaps.

Celeborn was busy within, aiding further. She …had she let him down? Perhaps not all that she loved was within this mountain at the moment, but it was close. Arwen was still unaccounted, though Galadriel knew she was still living.

They all yet lived. A victory perhaps. But too narrow a one. Far too narrow. Galadriel's fingers twitched as she stared out over the area laid thick with goblins.

Life. Goblins lived. Following their master's will with glee and avarice. Saruman. Lived. Her fingers twitched again, making the nearest dwarrow to her shift their weight uneasily.

Saruman lived.

It was untenable. Unbelievable. A pox on life itself.

Weary beyond measure, Galadriel knew she could not pursue the White Wizard. No, no longer the White. Yet … she sensed the withdrawal of Sauron. Would not Saruman be as exhausted as she? More so perhaps. Weakened. Alone.

Dispassionately she watched as Dain and his dwarrow arrived back behind their lines with Glorfindel and the others. Bloody, bruised, but not broken. Not like she felt on the inside.

Saruman. Alone.

She stepped forward, nodding as Glorfindel dropped to his knees and the Wizards offered sorrowed greetings. Saying not one word she reached for the reins of Gandalf's mount. The horse was spent.

The Gray did not relinquish the reins. "Please, do not do this." He whispered, not meeting her eyes.

"Saruman betrayed us." She hissed in a sound that had several dwarrow backing up nervously.

"Then let me." Gandalf spoke gently but with firmness, his fingers tightening upon the reins.

Galadriel's eyes moved to meet his for the first time, finding sympathy and understanding there. She looked away first. "You would die." As beloved as the wizard was, he was not at the moment a match to Saruman.

"You would as well." Gandalf told her sadly, none of his usual humor in his voice. "Or is that your wish?"

"I've died once, I have no fear of it." Galadriel's head turned slightly, finding Glorfindel with his hand over his heart. "I would go after him."

"I too." Dwalin spoke up for the first time, in his mind picturing Saruman acting the wise counselor. The friend.

"Yer all fools." Dain shook his head, watching them all unhappily.

"Dwarrow never back down from a fight." Galadriel said proudly. "I've known every Durin."

Dain's thick eyebrows rose up nearly to the top of his head as he scoffed openly. "And I'm only descended from him? Perhaps. But I fought for and won the fields before Khazad-dum, and refused to take a step inside. Not for fear of my life, but that my life was worth more than throwing it away on a battle I could not win at the time. That's a battle for another day."

Dwalin grunted. He'd been there that horrible day, a battle that was a victory in name only.

Galadriel paused, hesitating. She turned her gaze fully upon the Dwarven Lord. He did not flinch nor twitch, nor back down. "You remind me of him."

"Durin?" Dain's chest puffed outwards as he gave a rumble of a laugh. "Which one?"

"All of them." Galadriel let go of the reins, leaving them in Gandalf's hand.

"There is too much work to be done here, too many to find, too many to heal, and we can't waste breath arguing if you want to throw your life away riding after an evil betrayer." Dain eyed the tall female wearily. "You and yours saved the kingdom."

"No." Galadriel dismissed the charge. "We delayed the end, you and yours saved Erebor."

Dain sketched her a polite bow in acknowledgement. "Don't let all our efforts go for nothing."

"Thranduil comes. King Bard comes. Cirdan comes." The Lady looked at Gandalf with the saddest eyes he had ever seen on her face.

The Gray sighed heavily. "Could he be reached?" Asking if Saruman was lost to them completely.

"Sauron spoke through his mouth."

Dwalin said something foul while Radagast hissed with disgust, shaking his head. "Could we free Saruman from his control?"

Galadriel gave a sharp tilt of her head and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Saruman was not IN his control, he follows the Deceiver willingly."

Glorfindel's head drooped despondently as Gandalf winced.

"My rabbits can catch him, better than these poor horses." Radagast offered, though he looked as dazed as the rest of them.

Dain grimaced, shaking his head. "The foul wizard destroyed the stables and nearly all our mounts. There are few left, and none uninjured other than some rams and hogs that were in open pens. Not enough to mount a full assault."

The Brown Wizard stared at the shorter dwarf in stunned disbelief. "My rabbits?"

"I am sorry." Galadriel offered the wizard her hand, unmindful of his lack of cleanliness.

A heart-wrenching wail went up from Radagast as he hurried off to see for himself, and perhaps look for survivors. Foul words trailed behind him as he picked up his robes as he ran, knobby white knees visible to all.

"Come."

Galadriel looked over to where Glorfindel was holding out his hand for her. She turned and cast her gaze back over to the goblin army laid out before Erebor's walls. She held up her fist, clenched around her Ring of Power.

A wizened hand covered her fist. Her eyes traveled from the long-fingered hand to the wrist and up the sleeve of his robe to the kindest eyes she had ever known. And the most knowing. "Gandalf."

"You are the only elf who prefers that name for me." He teased.

"It is how you see yourself." The Lady explained to him. "You are a friend to the elves, but you belong more to the other races." Galadriel let her hand relax into his hold as he took her fist and opened it, laying the palm upright upon his own. His other hand covered it, so that her hand was sandwiched between his.

"I belong to no one." He chided her gently. "And you are utterly spent."

The Lady nodded, knowing it to be true. The Ring had power, a great deal of it. Yet she had used a lot of its reserves in holding up the mountain. There was very little strength left. In her. The Ring could go on, but she could not. What would happen if she drained herself so that only the Ring was left? An image of the Nazgul came to mind, though that was not what had created those foul beings. They had given into a lust for power and allowed Sauron to take them over heart and soul.

She?

If she rode out after Saruman on pride alone, relying solely upon the strength of her Ring, what would it cost her?

Galadriel lifted her gaze to Gandalf, and then over to Glorfindel. Their faces were masks, showing nothing. She smiled at them sadly, pulling her hand away from the Gray. "Come, there is much to do inside."

Both males smiled, nodding, even as Dwalin finished speaking with Lord Dain.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"There's a problem."

The words pierced Tauriel's calm and she snapped her jaw shut to keep from crying out.

Brunere was the one to ask the obvious. "What now?"

"We've dug out at the start of the stairs leading up." The dwarrow held out his hands, illustrating his words as he spoke. "The rescuers have dug through to us, here." He put his hand far above his first hand. "In between? Loose rubble, jagged rocks, nothing good."

"We can climb." Tauriel said, not seeing a huge problem, not yet.

"The debris is loose, and there are some rather large chunks. Now, there is a way through." The dwarrow held open one hand in a cupped position and mimed someone going up through the hole. "But those rocks won't take anyone's weight. Climbing could collapse everything below, including the rest of us."

The red head eyed the dwarf carefully, not being a mining engineer or having any experience below ground like this. "Ropes?"

The dwarrow nodded, glad she'd caught on. "The rescuers are setting up a pulley system now."

Tauriel nodded, cautiously excited.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You're late." Oin glared at the new arrivals with a combination of relief and consternation.

Ori shrugged, pulling a moan from the dwarrow who currently had his arm about him for support.

Nuluin hurried over, helping to move Kili to a nearby chair. It wasn't empty, but the dwarrow, though bandaged heavily was at least ambulatory and willing to make room. "Water."

"Word came to us, by raven mind you." Poor Oin shook his head in disbelief. "Imagine, having to send ravens with messages INSIDE Erebor. Anyway, word came you were on your way hours ago."

"Some obstacles." Ori shook his head as he gestured behind him at the stretcher arriving with the still out Elladan. "And we had to maneuver this as well."

Nuluin made a noise, hurrying to the downed elf's side. He pried open one gray eye after the other, peering inside. Kili didn't know what the healer was looking for, but hoped he found it. "He hasn't awoken." The prince said, his voice weaker than he liked.

"He has taken a great blow, a killing blow."

The young brunet shook his head in denial. "He lives."

The elven healer did not look happy as he gestured for the dwarves to carry the stretcher with Elladan deeper into the healing halls. He started calling out for herbs, some Kili recognized, most he did not. He started to rise, only to find Oin and Ori both blocking his path.

"The way is blocked, the king reachable only by raven." Oin poked Kili's shoulder. "That makes you in charge for now."

The prince's eyes widened alarmingly as he shook his head.

Ori was busy craning his neck, looking around at the high number of injured dwarrow and all those bustling around doing whatever the healers needed done.

"Dori's head should be ringing, but I think his skull is too dense. He's leading the rescue in the crafter halls." Oin supplied. He didn't mention Nori, since he didn't know the whereabouts of the ginger-bearded dwarf.

Ori nodded thankfully for what news he did have though. "Bifur and Gloin were with the king, last I saw." He offered his own information to the redoubtable dwarven healer.

Oin's eyes dipped down, and then he sighed, shaking his head. "I know."

Kili reached out gripping the healer's hand. "What?"

"Ahriline waits." Oin could barely bite out the words, as both younger dwarrow sucked in shocked breaths in understanding.

"Gimli?" Kili asked.

Oin shrugged. "I don't know, not yet."

The prince nodded, then stopped. He eyed Oin's sad eyes. "What? What aren't you telling us?" He swallowed hard. "Who?"

"I'm sorry lad."

Images flashed through Kili's reeling mind. Tauriel. Fili. Dis. Thorin ….

"Fili, he …."

"NO!" Kili jumped up in shock and anger, his eyes wide enough that white showed all the way around. "No, no, no!"

"I'm sorry lad, I really am."

"NO! I'd know!" Kili thumped his chest, his voice cracking as he shouted. "Not Fili! I would know!"

"The message said that Fili waits …"

"The message is wrong!" Kili backed up, nearly falling over his chair as he cursed and kicked it across the floor. "Fili …the message is wrong!"

Ori nodded, feeling the loss sharply himself. "There's a lot of confusion right now."

Oin sighed, but dropped his gaze. "Lads."

"His body. Have they his body?" Kili asked desperately, at Oin's blank look the young brunet shook his head a bit wildly. "I won't believe it until I see him. No. It's bad information, that's all."

"The mining shaft where the prince was working collapsed entirely." Oin said sadly.

Kili blinked back against the tears threatening him. He coughed and sputtered and shook his head. "No." He looked around. "Mining shaft. Fine. I'll find him. I'll find him myself. He was working on the Tigett, right?"

"Lad, please."

"The Tigett." Kili ground his teeth together and looked around for supplies. "Rope, water, healing things, light …I need a lantern, a full one, with an extra pouch of oil."

"We need you."

Kili turned and glared at Oin, shaking his head. "Fili …."

"Will be found or not, but lad …we need you here."

The young prince turned and looked, finding nearly every eye upon him. Injured dwarrow. Trapped together. Pockets of survivors. Fili. "He lives."

"He lives." Ori nodded in support.

Duty warred with the need to be looking for his brother. Fili wasn't waiting, he couldn't be waiting. Not Fili. Erebor needed the young blond prince. Thorin needed him. Erebor wasn't even listening to Kili, what good was a dwarven prince who wasn't full dwarrow?

And what of Tauriel, the life's blood of his soul? Dis, his mother, and everyone else?

He couldn't do this. He wasn't enough for this.

Three more dwarves entered the room, two dragging an injured friend with them. None of the three looked whole or hale. Kili pointed at them. "Where, anymore with you?" He asked uncertainly.

The first exhausted dwarrow collapsed to the floor. "Dug out, we heard scraping noises behind us, but couldn't get to them."

Trapped. Like Fili. Like Tauriel. No. Kili growled and spun, his dark eyes raging with pain and grief. He pointed at Ori. "Can you get to the Tigett?" It was a plea.

"I will, I promise." Swore the youngest member of the Company, straightening to his full height and feeling the surge of pride at being given such a task. "I will not fail you."

Oin grunted, approving what he was seeing.

Kili nodded. "Be safe and all speed." He turned and looked around the room. "Any who can move, who can dig, come with me." He pointed at the newly arrived dwarrow. "Show us where."

Kili headed off, barely able to stand himself, but unwilling to bend or fall. He wasn't thinking clearly, only responding to what was needed. It didn't even fully register that the able dwarrow all followed him, mixed blood or not, they responded immediately and without question to Prince Kili of Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

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