Yo! It's Friday! And today, I have three chapters for you. Yep. Three. We're very, very nearly caught up now, and I'm getting really excited about what is to come. Please forgive any typos, as usual

Chapter Thirty: To Save a Life

The chaos of battle was nothing new to Fíli, but the presence of the creature in the water certainly put a spin on things. As it thrust its bulging body against the side of the mountain, Fíli noted that it looked almost like the strange, 'octopus' creatures sometimes found in books talking of the sea. When they were children, Kíli had always scoffed that it was a lie for the gullible reader, and that nothing could exist with so many legs.

This thing must have at least a dozen legs, maybe two, or more – it was hard to count with them flailing all over the place. There seemed to be no end to them.

But these thoughts passed through Fíli's mind in a mere fraction of a second. He had no more time to spare for them. Bofin's screams were ear-splitting for a moment, but then they were swallowed by the sounds of battle, and that did not bode well for Bombur's oldest son. The wolves were all charging at the beast, and it was his turn to join them. He could hear Dís, Bilbo, Bofur and Bifur crossing the creek to reach this bank, and reach Bofin, and Kíli and Bragi were already laying into the monster.

Fíli's heart skipped a beat at his brother dancing between the powerful tentacles, but he forced himself to check the other side of the lake before running to his brother's aid. The orcs were being pushed back, and now only Ehren, Nori and Ori were left fighting them. Glorfindel was also racing towards the creek, while Erestor and Vinca shot from where they stood, aiming at both the orcs and the monster.

Satisfied that everyone knew what they were doing, Fíli darted towards Kíli, but he stopped short as he realised that someone was missing. Where was Soren? He was not with Kíli and Bragi, but Fíli had not seen him with Bofin earlier.

There was no sign of Soren charging towards the orcs, or towards the monster, and Fíli was sure that he had not been close enough to duck into the mines with the others. He was not fording the creek, nor shooting his bow – he was nowhere.

Knowing he had but half a second more to muse his friend's location, Fíli flew back through his memories to find the last time he had noticed Soren. The arrows – Frodo had yelled, and Soren had knocked Fíli out of the arrows' path.

A chill scuttled down Fíli's spine like a frozen spider, and he slowly looked down at the bank itself.

And horror struck a blow to his stomach.

Soren was lying where he had fallen, face down, unmoving. His dark hair and dark clothes had blended in with the bank, and he was veiled in shadows, but how had Fíli not seen him? How had Fíli not seen the three, long arrows protruding from his friend's back?

Stop. Breathe.

Was Soren breathing?

Fíli's own chest tightened, and he whirled around, seizing his mother's arm just before she ran out of reach. "Cover Kíli, send me Bragi!"

If she was confused, Dís did not show it. She nodded, once, and then continued her charge towards the monster. Towards Kíli and Bragi. Throwing his own swords into their sheaths, Fíli turned and ran back down the bank, weaving around Glorfindel and Bilbo as they followed his mother.

Soren was only seconds away, but in those seconds Fíli had already taken in everything about his friend's position. Three feet from the rock-face, four from the pool. Arrow between his shoulder blades, another in the small of his back, another just above his hip. His face turned towards the mountain, left arm beneath him, right arm stretched out towards Fíli.

Right fingers slipping over the stones.

He was alive.

Fíli skidded to his knees beside him, sending shingle flying out against the mountain behind. His heart was beating fast as it had on Weathertop, and his fear was scrambling from his lungs up to his throat, but his hands were steady. He reached up to Soren's outstretched hand and took it, wincing at the ice of its touch.

"Soren," he said, using all the strength he had to keep his voice calm and strong. Soren did not need his panic. "Soren, can you hear me, buhel?"

Soren's eyes flickered beneath their lids, and Fíli shifted his grip on his friend's hand to try and take a pulse. The beat was little more than a flutter, too fast and too shallow, but it was there.

"Soren," he said again, louder and a little more urgently. "Soren, I need you to wake up, now."

Again, Soren's eyes flickered beneath his lids, but this time the movement was accompanied by a weak groan. Fíli leant forward, his knees growing warm and wet. Startled, he looked down, and then closed his eyes. He was kneeling in a sea of Soren's blood. Ragan's son could not afford to lose much more.

Even as this thought passed through Fíli's mind, he forced himself to look. He was rewarded when Soren's eyelids quivered, and then opened half-way.

"Fíli…" he rasped, his voice as quiet as death.

"Aye, Soren, it's me. That's a lad, look at me, look at me now." Fíli refused to allow his voice to shake as he dragged his lips into a smile. Without looking away from his friend's face, he drew a small knife from his pocket, and severed his own coat sleeves. There was no time to run for bandages. "There we go, there we go. Breathe. I'm here. Bragi's coming."

"Bragi." Soren's voice broke between the syllables, and his eyebrows scrunched down low. "Shouldn', shouldn' see… 's bad th's time, Fíli."

"Nah," Fíli lied, giving a casual shrug as he pressed the torn fabric against the lowest wound. It seemed to be bleeding the heaviest. Soren hissed, and his hand tightened around Fíli's a little, but he did not protest. "Worse things happen in the mines."

"No." Soren closed his eyes, and his fingers clumsily wove through Fíli's. "I know i's bad." Then his eyes opened, and there was fear sparkling behind his tears. "Don', don' leave me?"

"Never," Fíli promised, his own eyes threatening to sting. "No, I'm right here."

"Safe?"

"You're s-"

Soren groaned. "You safe? M' job…"

Fíli could no longer hold back tears of his own. "Soren… I'm safe. I'm safe, Soren. You did well."

A small smile slipped across Soren's cheeks, and sent a dribble of blood down onto the rocks below. "Did well…"

"A little too well," Fíli attempted to joke, and to his relief Soren gave a huff of breath that could be a laugh. But the movement made him wince, and then cough, and then let out weak little shuddering gasps. "Soren! Soren, calm down, just breathe. That's it, breathe. There we go… Of course you did your job. Of course you did it too well. You have never failed me, buhel."

"Friend, of all friends," breathed Soren, his eyelids flickering. "I… did my best… for my fam'ly…"

Before Fíli could reply, a horror-struck howl rendered the air.

"Soren!" Bragi collapsed onto the earth at Soren's head, crawling forward like a thing possessed. One shaking hand rested on Soren's head, and the other fell upon his shoulder. "Oh Mahal, what happened? What happened?"

With the last two words, Bragi turned his stricken face to Fíli, but the prince could only shake his head.

"Wasn' quick 'nough," Soren whispered, and with a jolt of fear, Fíli realised that his voice was getting weaker. But when his hazy eyes found Bragi, Soren smiled, and his whole body seemed to relax. "Bragi… Bragi…"

"I'm here," promised the albino. "I'm here, Soren. You just hold on, you'll be fine. We have elves, don't we? They'll make sure you're alright, I swear it."

With those words, Soren's green eyes swam with tears, and then fixed on Fíli. "Did my duty?"

A tremble broke through Fíli's composure. "You did. You always have. I can ask nothing more than for you to hold on, please."

Tears broke over onto Soren's cheeks. "Don', please… Don' ask me… I cannot…"

"No, no!" Bragi stammered, but Soren's eyes did not leave Fíli. "Stop thinking like that, Soren, you're not going to die."

"Please…" Soren whispered, and Fíli was certain his friend was seeing into his very soul. "Jus' 'n case?"

Fíli glanced at Bragi, but the albino could not tear his own eyes from Soren. Taking a deep breath, Fíli bowed his head, and then smiled sadly at their wounded friend. "Have peace in your heart, Lord, for your duty is done. You have made proud your prince and your kingdom, and I will ask no more of you." Bragi let out a soft cry, and Fíli's composure crumpled. His hand tightened over Soren's. "But as your friend, I beg you to hold on. Please, Soren, I do not want to lose any family today. Please…"

Peace passed over Soren's face, and his fingers fluttered weakly around Fíli's hand, as if he was trying to squeeze it. "Thank you."

"No, no!" cried Bragi, a wild fear in his eyes that stabbed Fíli through the gut. It was a fear he knew all too well – the fear that had conquered him every time he was about to lose his Kíli. His own fear now was almost as great, and he could feel himself trembling. "No, Soren, you must hold on, you must! For the love of Mahal, Soren, just stay with me!"

"Hey," Soren began, but then he choked, and began to cough. His body spasmed as coughs wracked through his torso and sprayed blood onto the ground below. It was all Bragi and Fíli could do to pillow his head and keep pressure on the wounds around the arrows until it passed. When it did, Soren's clouded eyes were only for Bragi. "A' leas'… I'll get'a… meet your… Ada…"

"No," Bragi begged, as sobs began to shake his own body. He clutched Soren's shoulder with white fingers, and wove his hands into the other dwarf's hair. It felt as though Fíli was intruding in something private, but he could not bear to leave either of them. No, I don't want you to meet him, not now, not like this! Please, nadadith, please don't leave me. Come on, nadadith, come on now, please!"

"Nadad," breathed Soren. His smile grew stronger, and he gazed up at Bragi. "Love you, nadad…"

"I love you too, nadadith," sobbed Bragi, sinking down to lie on the ground in front of his little brother. He pressed his forehead against Soren's. "Please Soren. Just a little while longer, the elves will be here soon. The elves will come. You'll be fine, you'll live, Soren, please, don't leave me, come on, Soren, please! The elves will come, the elves will help."

"Your, your Ada'll come f'r me," Soren promised, his voice barely louder than his shallow breaths. "You, you tell my… tell our… Ada…"

And then he exhaled, and his eyes became blank, and he did not move again.

Fíli made no attempt to stop the sobs that broke from his lips, nor the shaking of his hands as he fumbled desperately for a pulse he knew he would not find. He took his other hand away from the wound and covered his eyes, but then he reached to the side and grabbed Bragi's arm.

I'm here, he wanted to say. I don't know what you need from me, my friend, but I'm here.

I'm so sorry.

If surprise could have been felt through the grief that was turning his veins to red hot metal, Fíli would have been surprised that Bragi did not scream. He did not cry out, or roar in anger, or beg to know what Soren wanted his father to be told.

He simply closed his eyes, drew Soren's forehead close to his, and began to cry. His sobs were silent, but they grew stronger and stronger without sound, rocking his whole body as he wrapped his arms around Soren and drew him close. A soft whine was the only noise to escape him, and Fíli did not know what to do.

Yes, you do, a voice like Thorin's insisted in his mind. Take stock of your surroundings. If someone you love dies in a fight you turn that grief into fuel for the fighting until the danger has passed.

Fíli looked up, ignoring the tears streaming down his own face, ignoring his own pain. He had to focus.

The orcs must have been beaten, because Vinca and Erestor were leading Ehren, Nori and Ori back towards the creek to reach the others.

But while the monster had been driven back into the water, it was far from dead. Arrows and knives and axes were embedded in its tentacles, and a few in its body, but it seemed to be able to ward off the warrior's blows more often than not. As Fíli watched, it seized Bilbo and dragged him into the air, but the hobbit did not even scream. Already, Kíli had cut him down. Glorfindel was making more progress, dancing over the tentacles as Legolas had, but he was repeatedly thrown back into the side of the mountain.

With a start, Fíli realised that he could no longer see Bifur or Bofur, and that he could not hear Bofin's cries anymore.

He had to help.

Fíli went to release Soren's hand, but he found that his own fingers would not move. If he let go – if he let go it became real, and Soren was gone.

Gathering what strength he had left, Fíli cleared his throat, and squeezed Bragi's arm. "Stay with him," he murmured. "I must, I must help the others."

Bragi's eyes opened, and they were burning with such a rage that Fíli let go of his arm. "Is that an order?"

"No," Fíli said. "Do what you need to do, Bragi."

With trembling fingers, Bragi closed Soren's eyes. "I will be back for you, brother."

And then he stood, in a movement so swift and strong that Fíli lost his breath. Bragi drew his sword, and his white brows sank low over eyes that burnt with bloodlust. He made no effort to wipe the tears from his cheeks, and his chest heaved with deep, fast breaths. The young dwarf's teeth were bared and his lips drawn into a wolf-like snarl that made him look almost deranged.

"Well?" he growled at Fíli, "Are you coming?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned, and then charged straight into the water. Fíli scrambled to his feet, without releasing Soren's hand, and stared in awestruck horror at the white-haired warrior.

The water seemed to flee before him, even as it rose to up to his chin, allowing him to pass as swiftly as if he had been on land. Three tentacles shot towards him, but he severed them all with a single blow, and then let out a roar that drowned out all noise, and sent a sharp chill down Fíli's spine.

And then he thrust his sword into the body of the monster.

And it plunged it down until it reached the hilt.

A piercing shriek saw Fíli's shoulders rise towards his ears, and the creature's limbs fell limp. Unable to breathe, Fíli watched the thing fall slowly backwards into the water, and saw its body sink towards unspeakable depths.

He saw Bragi standing still in the water, doing nothing to get out of the way. Before any warning could be cried, a tentacle struck Bragi across the chest, and he did not fight it. His head disappeared below the water, and then Fíli found the strength to scream.

"Bragi!"

Without thinking, he let Soren's hand slip through his fingers and plunged into the water himself. It was frigid, and filthy, but he could not bring himself to care. Because he knew that his grief and his guilt was nothing to Bragi's. Because he knew that if Kíli had been shot down, Fíli would let the dead monster drown him in the bowels of the earth, too.

Cries of his name scarcely met his ears – some seemed confused and others afraid, but Fíli dove beneath the water and they disappeared. He was not important now.

In the blackness of the water, he could see nothing. His eyes stung fiercely, unnaturally, and no matter how quick his strokes, he felt as though he was getting nowhere. Sense told him that somewhere, not far ahead, was a drop-off point, where the water grew deep, for such a creature could not have existed in water a dwarf could wade in. But Fíli could hardly see his own hands before him, let alone a drop into deeper darkness.

Then he saw a blur of white shoot up like a ghost, and he rose to the surface himself, with a desperate burst of hope. As Fíli surfaced, he saw Bragi shaking his head fiercely, and wiping the filthy water from his sealed eyes. Breathing a sigh of relief, Fíli swam slowly over, unsure if his presence would help or hurt the dwarf in front of him.

He was Soren's charge, after all. He was the reason Soren was dead.

It took Bragi a moment to notice him, and when he did it was confusion that Fíli saw in his eyes. There was no trace of the fury that had burnt mere moments before. He did not look like a dangerous warrior.

He looked like a lost dwarfling.

"I'm so sorry." Fíli's voice broke. There was nothing else to say. "Bragi, I – I'm sorry."

Bragi blinked, and then gazed at the filthy water. "I… I lost my sword."

Fíli nodded slowly. "We can fix that."

Bragi's eyes filled with tears. "I… I lost my Soren."

"I know," Fíli choked, unable to stop his own tears. "I know, Bragi, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Bragi howled, and then surged forward, his arms wrapping around Fíli. Fíli closed his eyes and hugged Bragi back, relief and grief and a thousand other emotions crashing against his self-control.

Finally, one of the cries from the shore caught his attention. "Fíli, what's happening?"

Kíli.

Fíli twisted towards his brother's voice and began to kick, swimming without releasing Bragi from his arms. He guided the both of them back to shore, and supported Bragi's weight as they staggered onto the bank.

"What happened?" Kíli demanded, his eyes wild with fear and his hands resting on both their shoulders. "Bragi? Fee, what's wrong with him?"

Fíli swallowed, and stared at the folk staring at him, their weapons held in limp hands, their eyes wide at the sudden end to such a fight. Then he glanced at Bragi, and knew that it was his job to speak.

But when he tried, only one, broken word would make it. "Soren…"

Bragi moaned, and Fíli was silenced by the tears in his throat. He looked away, down the bank, down towards Soren. He could not say it, but Kíli was there in front of him, and Fíli did not need to speak for his Kíli to understand him.

"No," Kíli breathed, shaking his head and looking from one to the other. "No!"

Bragi swayed, and Fíli began to stammer. "He, he needs a towel or a blanket or – shock, I think he's in shock…"

"Soren," Bragi whispered, stumbling away from Fíli, stumbling back down the bank. "I promised. Promised."

With a sob, Fíli nodded, and together they trudged back up the bank.

Ehren, Nori and Ori were lingering by Soren's body. Ehren was on his knees. Head in his hands. Nori was rubbing his shoulder. As they drew nearer, Ori met Fíli's eyes, shaking his head sadly.

Moaning, Kíli covered his mouth with his hand and turned away. Fíli could hear other exclamations of horror and denial and sorrow, but he could neither recognise nor understand them. He did not try to. Instead, he eased Bragi down onto the ground beside Soren, and took a blanket from Vinca to wrap around Bragi's shoulders.

Luno limped over and snuffled at Soren's face. Then he stiffened, and sent a mournful howl up into the night. The other wolves replied, and a raw lament rose around them, and Fíli reached out blindly. In a heartbeat, Kíli was there, taking him into his arms. Fíli held his brother with all the strength he had, and they leant on each other, and his mother appeared before him.

"I am sorry," she said, her voice low and trembling as she put a hand on Fíli's cheek. "He was a good lad."

Fíli nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into his mother's touch for a moment. Then, he had to let out a long breath, and open his eyes. "We must find the others," he said, his voice a little sore. "Make sure that no one else is hurt. We've got to find Bofin – figure out how we are to find the others."

Dís smiled, a proud, sad smile, and then kissed his forehead, and stroked Kíli's hair. "Aye, we must."

"Kíli!" cried Bilbo, and both princes jumped violently. Their father was standing on the pile of stone that had spilled out into the pool, and blocked the door to the mines. "We need you and the elves, come quickly!"

Without hesitating, Kíli began to sprint back to where the doors had been, Glorfindel and Erestor right behind him. Given that Kíli still had his hand, Fíli followed suit, and at the sight of him Bilbo nodded, but held up his hands at the others who had followed.

"No, stay back! I mean it, we can't crowd him and the rocks are loose, wait there! We'll send word in a minute, Dís, please, wait there!" Then he gestured for Fíli and Kíli to follow and began to wade through the knee-deep water around the fallen rocks.

"What happened?" asked Kíli, his hand tightening around his brother's.

"Bofin," Bilbo said, his voice shaking. He glanced over his shoulder at the others as they disappeared behind the fallen stone. "It's not good. Who's hurt over there?"

Fíli's throat closed up again, and looked desperately at Kíli, whose eyes filled with tears. It was the younger who answered. "Soren. Bilbo, he, he didn't make it."

Bilbo's mouth dropped open in horror. "No? No, he can't have – Fíli?"

Tears escaping once more, Fíli nodded dumbly, and Bilbo moaned. He threw his arms around Fíli and Kíli, and his whisper was choked with tears of his own.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Taking a deep breath, Bilbo pulled away, and put a hand on Fíli's cheek. When he spoke, his voice was oddly firm. "Did you see it happen, Fíli?"

"I," Fíli began, and then he took a deep breath and nodded. "I was there."

"Are you able to stay calm now?" Bilbo asked tightly. "I hate to ask it, Fíli, but if you are to panic you will upset Bofin and-"

"Bilbo!" cried Bofur's voice, desperate and stricken, from a spot hidden around the corner.

"I'm alright," said Fíli quickly, and Bilbo nodded, leading them quickly around the rocks.

And then Fíli stopped breathing. Bilbo was right. This was anything but good.

The cursed monster had brought the mountain down onto Bofin's legs.

The boy was lying between Bofur and Bifur, his head cushioned by his uncle's hat, but only the very tops of his thighs had escaped the falling stone. Pale as Soren, Bofin was sweating and shivering and breathing too quickly, too weakly. Fíli could not see any blood, but he was not entirely sure that was a good thing.

Beside him, one of the elves cursed in his own tongue, and Kíli let out a small whimper. Bilbo ran right over, sitting beside Bofur and taking Bofin's hand. "I found the elves, and a couple of rogue princes, too."

Fíli had not thought he had any reserves of morale or emotional strength left, but he drew out his last drop with a deep breath and clung to it. He was a Prince of Durin's line, and he would be as strong as his people – as his family – needed him to be.

As he jogged closer, Fíli could hear Bofin sobbing. "Please, please, Uncle, please help me, please! Don't, don't let them hurt me, please, please, Uncle!"

But it was not Bofur who replied. From the anguish carved into his face, Bofur did not look fully capable of speech. Bifur was murmuring quietly, but from what Fíli could hear, it was not even Khuzdul. It was nonsense, and there were tears in Bifur's eyes, and he did not seem to know what to do.

"No one's going to hurt you," soothed Bilbo, rubbing the dwarf's hand gently. "You know the elves are the best healers we have." With that, the hobbit raised his eyes pleadingly to Glorfindel and Erestor, but the elves were already striding over.

As Fíli sat at Bofur's side, and Kíli sank down at Bilbo's, Erestor examined the rocks, and Glorfindel knelt beside Bifur.

"Bofin," he said calmly, and the boy whined. "Bofin, look at me."

"Uncle," Bofin whispered, looking between Bifur and Bofur frantically, "Uncle, please…"

"It's alright," Bofur croaked, stroking Bofin's fringe from his clammy forehead. "It's alright, I won't let 'em hurt you. Not, not that they ever would. It's alright, Bofin, I'm here."

"Look at me," repeated Glorfindel gently, smiling when Bofin turned his wide eyes to the elf. "That's it. Now, how long have you been trapped? Since the rocks fell, or was it after?"

Bofin nodded jerkily, his fingers digging into the hands of Bilbo and Bofur. "When, when first they fell. The, the thing grabbed me, but, but it let go and then – then…"

"I see," said Glorfindel, his long fingers resting on the side of Bofin's neck. The dwarf cringed into Bofur's side, but Glorfindel hummed gently. "It's alright. I just need to feel your pulse."

Bofin whimpered, and Bifur began to shush him gently, stroking back his hair without words.

Glorfindel looked sharply at Erestor, who had been inspecting the rocks. The latter shook his head slightly.

"How long would it take your kin to move this stone?" Erestor directed the question to Bofur, but it was Bifur who answered, speaking Khuzdul that Bilbo translated for the elves.

"With those of us here? A day at the least – the size of the rocks, way they're stacked, where we are here… And that's not taking into account the time taken to figure out the best way forward. It would take…" Bilbo's voice wavered, but he finished anyway. "Too long."

Erestor stared at Glorfindel, and then the two began speaking rapidly in elvish. Though he had picked up some of the language over the years, it was too fast and flowy for Fíli to keep up with, but Bilbo and Kíli listened like rabbits. At least they did until Glorfindel glanced at Bofin, and then spoke to Kíli softly, words that Fíli could translate himself.

"Keep him talking. Awake, alert."

Kíli nodded, and began to rub Bofin's shoulder, not missing the way that the boy stared in terror at the two elves. "Why do you fear the elves now, mizimith? You know they have been friends for decades, and you know we would never let them hurt you."

Bofin moaned, trying to inch closer to Bofur. "Stories, they, they win your trust and then they, they torture you and they kill you and-"

"Oh, sweet-pea, you're confused," said Bilbo gently. "And that's alright – very understandable. But you're thinking of ghost stories, little one. Nothing more. The elves healed Fíli and I, after the Battle of Five Armies, and then again in Mirkwood – you remember that, do you not?"

Bofin nodded shakily.

"Exactly," the hobbit murmured. "We will not let them hurt you, lad. We've got you."

Even as he hummed in assent, Fíli glanced at Glorfindel, and his heart twisted painfully. The elf's eyes were closed, and he looked pained, but he nodded slowly.

"Alright," said the elf, "Bofur, may I speak with you?"

"No!" whimpered Bofin, grasping at his uncle's sleeve. "Please, don't leave me, don't leave Uncle-"

"Just tell me here," said Bofur, turning hopeless eyes to Glorfindel.

The elf took a deep breath. "You must understand, we do not have much time, here. We do not know what that creature was, or if there are more, and there may yet be more orcs to come. But more importantly, it is too dangerous to shift the rocks. It would take too long to do so safely, and even if we could remove them immediately, I fear that the damage to Bofin's legs is already very severe. Erestor is about to tourniquet both legs to stop Bofin's own blood poisoning him, but it will not be painless. Then…"

Bofin gave a low wail closed his eyes, sobs shaking his chest and sending tears down his cheeks. His uncle's reaction was all but identical, and Fíli wrapped his arm around Bofur's shoulders as the trembling toymaker sobbed. The prince's own stomach was heaving and his mind was spinning, and he could see that Kíli was trembling, and leaning into Bilbo's side. Bifur's head was bowed, and he was shaking worse than Kíli. Bilbo was whiter than paper, but was the only one who managed to continue murmuring soft assurances to the terrified Bofin.

They all knew what Glorfindel was saying.

Bofin would lose his legs, or he would lose his life.

I hope that you liked that one, I know that not much has changed… Onwards!