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7

Time to Run

"GET THEM IN THE WAGONS, NOW!"

Kíli shook his head and tightened his grip on Ori and Bofur. The immediate threat of danger seemed to snap him out of the fog that had been clouding his brain for the past few days. A few of the guards were trying to push the clump of slaves into the covered wagons while the rest of the camp led an organized defense against the slew of orcs raiding the camp. Aaron and Petry were nearby, both of them wide-eyed and scared out of their wits.

"Get a move on," a whiskery man growled, shoving them back. Kíli winced as he back made contact with the person behind him. Ori stumbled and lost his grip on Kíli's arm but Bofur kept him firmly in his grasp.

"It's okay Bofur," Kíli panted, "I'm alright. You can let me go."

"Lad, you took seventeen lashes—"

"Seventeen's not that much," the young prince cut in, "You've seen the scars on some of the other captives. It could've been worse."

Bofur looked at him skeptically but let go, lending his free hand to Ori who was still stumbling to gain his footing. He sighed and gave Kíli a final look. "You're still running a fever Kíli," he whispered, "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I think you should get yourself looked at. These mer—"

"NOW'S OUR CHANCE!"

The captives didn't know who shouted it, but it didn't matter. One quick look around told them that half the guards and all the merchants were preoccupied with the orcs. Without a second thought on the matter, Kíli rammed his shoulder into the throat of the whiskery guard beside him, grabbed Ori and Bofur and ran.

And they weren't alone.

A retaliation cry rang out and the slaves turned against the few guards that remained. They scattered like ants across the camp, blind to the battle around them. Beside the three dwarves was two girls, one older and one younger, and Aaron.

"Where are we running!?" Bofur shouted.

"Anywhere but here!" Kíli shouted back.

"What about Millí and Gimli!?" Ori cried.

Kíli scanned the blurs of people and orcs around them but saw no sign of his friends. "We have to get out of here," the brunette replied, "We can't help them if we're still in chains!"

They broke through the merchant camp and into the clearing where hours ago they had been drugged and displayed for the scouts. The platform was in shambles as the orcs laid waste to everyone and everything around them.

"Faster! Hurry!"

A sharp cry rang out from the left. Kíli whipped his head around to find Aaron on all fours with an orc axe in his back. The two boys made eye contact a moment before the boy coughed up a lethal amount of blood. Kíli stumbled to a halt, every fiber of his being screaming at him to abandon the boy and keep going, but he couldn't.

"Kíli! Come on!"

"We can't just leave him!"

The orc who threw the axe was coming their way. He was tall and knotted like an old tree that was rotting away. His skin was a grey color and his eyes were bright with the rush of killing.

"Kíli…"

The prince was frozen. Aaron was still coughing, his arms wobbling in the effort to support himself. In the next moment the orc was upon them, reaching down and tearing the axe from the boy's back while paying no regard to the cry of pain the action caused. Aaron's arms shook and collapsed beneath him as the boy whimpered like a kicked dog. Just then an intense rage that Kíli had only recently discovered was inside of him boiled to the surface, strong enough to taste. The orc seemed to enjoy the look and raised his axe to attack, now only a few strides away from the fugitives.

A rock struck the beast between the eyes before he could take another step.

Ori cried out in surprise, his hand still hovering in the air at the end of his throw. Bofur whooped and slapped the young dwarf on the back and Kíli blinked a few times to comprehend what had happened. Ori, little Ori, had actually killed an orc!

But Aaron's gurgled cry for help brought him back to the severity of their situation. Kíli ran to his side and lifted him up at the shoulders. The boy was taller than Kíli would ever be and too heavy and cumbersome for the dwarf to carry.

"Someone help me with him!"

Ori was the first to arrive, getting behind the boy so that Kíli could tip the boy against the dwarf's chest. Poor Ori blanched as the obscene amount of blood from Aaron's wound started the soak into his shirt. Kíli had no time for squeamishness though, and began to grip Aaron's legs. The moment they tried to lift, the boy made a choking sound of panic and his hands flailed drunkenly in the air. He made a second sound, one more urgent.

"Turn him on his side," one of the girls demanded. Kíli hadn't realized that they stayed, but his surprise was short-lived. They did as they were told and the poor boy started to wretch into the grass.

"What do we do?" Ori keened. The battle was still going on and every second they stayed still was another second they could be attacked again. Kíli opened his mouth but in the panic he couldn't find words to say. Aaron quieted and his hand rest on Kíli's arm.

"Y'don know me," he rasped. His voice was weak and tired and suddenly Kíli knew the boy truly wasn't going to make it. "W'not even friends. But if y-get the chance, c-coul'you tell m'mum wha' happened. T'her I didn't a-abandon 'er on purpose."

Kíli tried to keep his face mutual, knowing full well that there was no way he could ever find the boy's mother. He nodded and tried to give him a smile. Aaron seemed to calm and drooped significantly. "Run," he managed to say before shutting his eyes. Kíli gave Ori a nod and the group was off before Aaron had made his last breath.

"Get to the trees and then don't stop until we find a creek," Kíli shouted over the drumming of his heart. "We'll use it to travel after that so that they can't track our footsteps."

Thank Aulë for tracking lessons with Dwalin.

"If any one of us falls again, don't stop running," he added.

The five of them put the ground behind them faster than they ever dreamed. Kíli could feel the adrenaline coursing through him like a drug, making his heart race and his thoughts clear.

Trees. Get to the trees.

But once again they were not alone. Orcs were beginning to retreat into the trees as well. Kíli could see them in their clumsy armor and knotted limbs, disappearing into the shadows of the forest like cockroaches. Then suddenly one of the girls cried out and Kíli could feel her absence from the group, but he didn't stop running. Then the other girl screamed and was gone as well.

"Stop! STOP!"

A whistling sound, a cry, and a thud. This time Kíli turned and saw Bofur on the ground with a bolas tangled around his legs. Kíli wanted desperately to stop, but the dwarf waved him on. The merchants were running at them and shouting, bearing their weapons in the air.

"C'mon Ori," he panted, using the reserves of his adrenaline to push him forward. Another bolas fell to the grass nearby. An arrow landed in the dirt at their feet. "We're almost th—"

Kíli's head struck the ground before he knew what hit him. One moment the dirt was firmly beneath his feet, and the next it was in his mouth. He looked down to see a bolas wound tightly around his legs and screamed in frustration. Then a small sob alerted him that Ori too had fallen.

"Oh no," his friend cried, tugging at the painfully tight ropes entangling his legs. Kíli stole one more glance at the merchants who were closing the gap between them with alarming speed. There would be no time for them both to get free.

"Here," he said, helping Ori untangle the bolas from his legs. Kíli's own legs were starting to sting, but he ignored them and focused on his task. They quickly realized that the weights at the end were making it impossible to undo the rope.

"Sorry," Kíli grunted, before pulling sharply at each weighted end. Ori yelped as the binds dug deeper into his skin, but suddenly the stones snapped off and they were able to make quick work of the ropes after that.

"Ori, run," Kíli urged, shoving back towards the trees. The men weren't far behind them now; he could hear their voices and footsteps clearer than ever. "Run! Now!"

"What about you?!" the boy whined, stumbling to his feet.

"You can't help us if you're caught too!" Kíli shouted. "I'm sure people are looking for us. Find them, find my uncle, find a damn farmer for all I care! JUST GET OUT OF HERE!"

Ori was crying but obeyed, limping off into the cover of the trees as quickly as he could. Kíli sighed with relief as soon as he saw his friend disappear into the shadows, letting his forehead rest in the grass.

I was so close.


"Ori, how on earth id you escape!?" Nori cried, still suffocating his brother in a prolonged vice-like hug.

"Let the boy breath, laddie," Dwalin said impatiently. Nori hesitated, but finally released Ori from his grip. Fíli had his eyes on the trees just in case any of the others came popping out of the forest.

"Are you alone?" Thorin asked, not hiding the urgency in his voice. Ori took a few steadying breaths and nodded with apologetic tears already forming in his eyes. "The others weren't able to get away. T-they made me leave without them."

"It's okay, Ori," his brother cooed, "It's not yo—Durin's beard, is that your blood?"

Ori looked down at his chest as if he had forgotten he had one at all. More tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving a faint trail through the dirt. Fíli bit his lip, every moment of silence making him dread the answer.

"No, it's not," he whimpered. "T-there was an attack on the camp b-by orcs, 'nd one of the boys we were escaping with…died 'nd I tried to hel-help but—" The boy's voice hitched and then he was sobbing. Fíli looked helplessly to Thorin, who had ironed his face since the moment Ori had appeared. Brent's jaw tightened and he turned away rather than endure the moment with all the other onlookers.

"I-It's all his," Ori finally said. He calmed himself enough to speak, but he couldn't entirely contain his hiccups and shaky breaths. "Kíli, Bofur, and I were trying to escape with the b-boy Aaron 'nd two other girls. But when th—"

"What about Gimli?" Guinn cut across, "And Millí?"

"They were at another part of the camp…"

This time Brent interrupted. "What did the girls look like? The ones trying to escape with you."

Ori opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't really take notice. One was…older I think. Older than most of us, anyway. And tall—Ow, Nori!"

"What?!"

"My finger! You're squeezing me."

"What's wrong with your finger?"

"The slaver b-broke it."

Bifur grunted. "Why would they break your finger?"

"It's nothing, please let go of me."

Oin approached, "I should probably look at it laddie."

"Everyone's tall to a dwarf," Brent snapped, "What about the other girl? Do you remember her?"

Nori shot the man a warning look, but the he took no notice. "I d-don't know, I'm sorry," Ori said sadly, "I think she had light hair, like sand. That's all I noticed."

This seemed to touch Brent because he took a few steps forward, much to the displeasure of Nori. Kendrick was the one to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It may not have been Aliza. We have no way of knowing."

Brent shrugged him off but steeled his expression. His brother was right, after all.

"Just tell me if she lived," he said finally. "The girl with the light hair."

"She was recaptured with the others," Ori whispered, "But I think she was alive at the time that I left."

Brent clenched his jaw but nodded once before stalking away from the group to burrow his knife into the trunk of a tree.

"So it's possible that Millí and Gimli escaped too, then?" Era asked. Ori looked doubtful but was wracking his brain for something positive to say when Fíli couldn't take it anymore.

"Clearly there's no way he could've known," the prince stepped in. "I hope that they did, but then again, if there was a band of orcs attacking the camp than I think they may be safer in captivity than out in the wild alone and unarmed. Either one's a blessing, so we shouldn't worry for them."

Guinn scoffed and turned away as well to fiddle with the saddlebags on her horse. Era shook her head and rubbed her temples. "Not if they're dead," she muttered.

"They-they wouldn't be dead," Ori told her, "The merchants would've protected them from the orcs."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to lose their deposit," Avery said bitterly. Silence fell on the group then, as everyone tried to ignore Guinn's uneven breaths and sniffles.

"Well," Thorin spoke finally, "At least Ori's with us now." He walked forward and placed a hand on the shaking dwarfling's shoulder. "And what's more, he knows which direction the merchants went. So he can be our guide, can't you lad?"

Ori swallowed and nodded slightly, not daring to refuse.

"Excellent. I'll give you an hour to gather yourself and for the rest of us to prepare. How far behind them would you say we are, Ori?"

"Um…I was wandering about for…two. Maybe three. Uh-two and a half days, I estimate. You're half a day from the sight where we were attacked, but they've moved on by now I'm sure."

Thorin nodded and moved past Ori, walking by the small rescue party with an expressionless face. "We leave in one hour. Be ready."

Fíli watched him go and felt a chill run through him. The whole situation made him feel so incredibly cold.

"Fíli."

The blonde dwarf turned to find Ori standing in front of them. "Ori," he sighed, pulling his friend into a brief but sincere hug, "I'm glad you're back." His shaky companion gave him a weak smile and Fíli couldn't help but feel a wave of pity for him. "You look like you could use some sleep."

That made his friend smile. "So do you." Fíli expected that was the end of the exchange, but Ori stopped him from leaving. "Fíli…Kíli's sick. I don't know with what exactly, but…"

"It's okay Ori, we know," Fíli interjected sadly. "I have a Mallos flower in my pack. Apparently he has Goblin Fever—I know, apparently it isn't just a myth—that's why he was acting so miserably that week after the attack."

Ori nodded slowly and seemed to contemplate that. "It lines up I guess. At the time I escaped, he had been acting really delirious. Confused about everything and really sensitive to touch. He said his bones were hurting him, but we all just thought the fever was making him dramatic." Ori shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I should've known."

"It doesn't matter," Fíli said, "We're going to get him back and then I can give him the medicine that he needs. For now, you get some rest. It won't be long before we're back on the road and tracking down those bastards, all thanks to you my friend."

Fíli smiled and walked away towards his pony. Confused and achy, Ori had said. That's where his brother was, and that was only the first of the five stages. He couldn't help but feel a little relieved.

"The first will spin you side to side,

Fill your bones with ache,

In confusion lose your stride,

As the flames engulf your hide,

And watch your muscles quake."


Kíli had a moment of peace before the men caught up entirely. In that moment he took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for whatever was coming.

"This one's bleeding," someone said.

"Of course he's bleeding you git," the other snapped, "He was freshly whipped today if you don't remember."

"Not my job to keep track."

A hand grabbed at the necklace around Kíli neck and yanked, eliciting a sharp cry from the dwarf as the chain cut off his windpipe.

"Up y'get, scum."

Kíli struggled to slacken the chain, but the man pulled again effectively yanking the dwarf into sitting position while snapping the necklace entirely.

No! Not that.

"What is this anyway?" the greedy man laughed as he examined the necklace. "It's just a rock. No value to it at all." With that he cast it into the mud and cut the bolas from Kíli's ankles. Then he wrapped his fingers in Kíli's hair and forced him to his feet. "Let's go. And don't try to fight back or I swear I'll kill ya right here. Not in the mood to play games right now."

Kíli complied as the fatigue set into his body. His necklace, the last gift his father had given him and his brother, was now trampled in the mud like it was nothing. It made him want to cry, but he couldn't afford the tears. Not while he had to face his captors again. Not when his friends' lives were at stake.

Bofur and the girl with sand-colored hair soon joined his silent march back to the campsite. The other woman who fell first was dead in the grass not far off with an arrow through her back. The three of them were limping slightly as the sting of the bolas set in to their legs.

What a mess…

The entire clearing had been laid to waste. Bodies littered the ground, orcs and merchants alike. And slaves.

"Found three!" one of the men called. They emerged through the short clump of trees and into the small clearing that had been their camp. The organized chaos that was so familiar to Demetrius' crew left the captives amazed once again. They were like bees; replacing, healing, dragging, setting, breaking, and fixing without much speaking at all. Some whistled an upbeat working tune, but for the most part their lips were sealed. Kíli half expected them to start buzzing.

"Two more were dead in the grass," the other man added. Daren was waiting for them with his arms folded over his chest.

"Get them with the others and make sure they can't go anywhere," he said in a cold tone. "Have those who are able help with repairs. I'm putting those three in your charge. If any of them try to escape, put an arrow through their heart. Understand?"

"Aye," they saluted. And soon they were being pushed into a clump of captives with faces full of bruises and disappointment. Gimli was amongst them, looking bewildered and upset.

"Gimli, glad to see you alive," Kíli sighed. "Not so glad to see you here, though."

The ginger dwarf gave him a tight smile and clasped his shoulder. "Same to you," he said. "Do you know what happened to Millí and Ori?"

"Ori got away," the brunette answered proudly, "I saw him myself. As for Millí, I don't know where she is."

Gimli nodded and then let his eyes truly fall on Kíli. "You look awful, Kee."

The prince sighed and nodded, letting his hand rest absent-mindedly over his abdomen. "Truth be told I feel better now than I have in days." Gimli raised an eyebrow at that, clearly not buying it. "No really. Maybe not…physically. But mentally. I feel like my head's finally clear."

Gimli gave him smile that Kíli was quick to return. In reality, his stomach was starting to ache along with his head. A bad, foreboding feeling. The kind of feeling one gets from eating spoiled mutton.

The red-haired dwarf placed his hand on the side of Kíli's neck in a comforting gesture, but pulled away immediately when he felt the heat radiating off of his skin.

"Durin's beard Kíli," he whispered, "You've still got a temperature after all this time."

"Don't worry about me Gimli," he responded, "Let's worry about finding our friend and getting out of here. We can't keep waiting for rescue like we're helpless."

"Alright…Yes. That's what I like to hear."

Kíli nodded encouragingly and allowed Gimli to leave him in search of Millí. He made sure his friend had ventured far into the thick of the captives before giving in to the pain in his stomach. Two quick strides and he was mercifully on the outside of the group, where he promptly threw up anything and everything that was left in his stomach. But it didn't stop when his stomach was empty, no, whatever was making him feel this way kept him keeled over and dry heaving until he was completely out of breath. When it was over it straightened up and wiped his mouth with the most dignity he could manage. One of the guards was eyeing him warily, keeping his shoes a good distance away from the mess Kíli had made in the grass.

"Saw a lot of people die," the dwarf explained nonchalantly before retreating back into the crowd.

"Lad, are you alright?"

Kíli looked up to find Petry, one of the friendly merchants from Kíli's hometown. He had seen Petry in the crowds, but until now neither of them had had a chance to speak.

"I'm find, Petry, thank you for asking."

The man furrowed his brow and let his eyes scan over the dwarf's face and shoulders. "You don't look fine. You look like you're dead on your feet."

Kíli opened his mouth to argue and then stopped himself.

What's the point? He knows your sick and it's not like you have to hide anything from him.

"Honestly, Petry?" he relented, "I'm not alright. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm not alright." Petry tightened his lips and nodded sympathetically. Kíli continued, "But it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that we get away from these…monsters. We've allowed them to keep us docile for too long."

"Kíli…" Petry looked sad, but seemed to rethink what he was going to say. He placed a hand gently on the dwarf's shoulder and gave him a comforting smile. "Of course. Of course we're going to try. But right now you need to get some of your strength back or you'll never be able to do anything."

He turned and grabbed the arm of the sand-colored hair girl that had tried to escape with him. "Aliza, come here a moment please."

The girl turned and Kíli recognized the hollow cheekbones and stern gray eyes that he associated with Brent's family. "What is it, Petry?"

"I need you to take this lad to the river and clean his wounds. Try to bring his fever down if you can."

The girl, Aliza, turned her icy eyes on Kíli and they softened.

"I can take care of myself, Petry," Kíli protested.

"Oh can you?" the man laughed, "In all my days I've never met someone able to fix their own back without help."

It would be difficult to reach all the marks, yes.

"I can help you," she told him. It didn't sound like an offer; more of an order. "I often help the medics when we're on the road."

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Kíli's arm and started to lead him out of the clump of people.

"And just where do y'think you're going?"

The guard was suddenly in front of them, looking incredulous.

"This boy needs to have his wounds washed out. I'm taking him to the river."

"You'll be doing no such thing."

Aliza raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. Her muscles looked like steel beneath her skin. "Do you know who he is?" she pressed, "He's the archer who impressed the scouts so much at the viewing. If you these wounds fester he'll be dead in two days time. Do you think that Demetrius is going to be pleased if one of his prize possessions dies before you get to the Greyflood?"

The guard looked baffled a moment, but then after relented. "Where I can see you. And if you try to run, I'll put an ar—"

"Arrow through my heart, I know," Aliza rolled her eyes and tugged Kíli forward, "C'mon."

The dwarf prince couldn't help but feel like a child in that moment, being led away by his mother.

What I wouldn't give for Dís to be here right now.

At Aliza's command, Kíli sat down and allowed her to pour water down his stinging back. Suddenly he felt nauseous again, but managed to hold himself together as she worked the dirt out of the cuts. She tore pieces off of her tattered skirt to use as washcloths, since Kíli's shirt had long since been lost.

Aulë, my head hurts.

She stopped working on his back and sat down in front of him, scrubbing the dirt off of his face and neck. She let the cold water run down his neck and pressed a cloth to his forehead.

"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing him wince.

"My head," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "I've got the worst headache."

She narrowed her eyes. "What else?"

Kíli winced as an especially intense wave of pain radiated through his skull. "My stomach."

Aliza bit her lip. "Could just be the flu. Those are really common symptoms."

"…Yeah."

His response didn't satisfy the girl. She suddenly took the cloth off his forehead and started to scrub the dirt away from his hands. He closed his eyes to ward off any irritation that the light was causing.

"Oh…well, nevermind about that."

He opened his eyes again to find Aliza rubbing dirt back on his hands. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him with eyes softer than before. "Your nails Kíli. I…" The girl stopped and looked around a moment before leaning in with an urgent look to her face. "Listen to me Kíli. You have Goblin Fever, and you're in the second of five stages."

"Goblin Fever? There's no way."

"Why are the Blue Mountain Southerners always so keen on discrediting Goblin Fever? It's real, look." Aliza held up his hand in front of his face. At first he didn't realize what she was trying to show him, but then he saw it in his nails. A black shadow collecting at the base and stretching for the tips. It was faint enough to be mistaken for dirt, but there was no mistaking it when he hands were clean.

"I…I don't understand."

"You don't need to," she said, taking his hand back and rubbing more dirt onto his skin. "But you can't let the slavers know, do you understand me? You need Mallos to cure Goblin Fever, but these merchants get a fortune for the stuff at the trading festival by the Greyflood. They'll never give any of it to you, even if you are held at high value." She placed both of her hands on the sides of Kíli's face and made him look directly into her eyes.

"They will kill you. They won't help you; they will kill you if they find out. Do you understand?"

Kíli nodded, still not fully comprehending the weight of his new knowledge.

"You said…stage two. What does that mean?"

That was a question he could tell the girl didn't want to answer. "It's out of five," she said carefully, "But I think it's best if I don't tell you what the five stages are. It'll only make it worse if you're anticipating them."

Oh, thank you. How comforting.

"I'm afraid that these conditions are only going to speed up the infection's process," she confessed. "Some people can fight the illness for weeks, maybe even months. But…under the circumstances I'm not sure if you're body will be strong enough."

"I'm strong," Kíli told her firmly, "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked at him with her sad, cold eyes. "Maybe so, maybe you can hold on long enough to get help. We may be rescued yet. My father would never abandon me with these men, and I'm sure you have family who wants you back as well."

A cold feeling suddenly gripped Kíli's heart. "I'm not sure about that anymore, I'm afraid. Before I was captured, I was acting so horribly. I'm afraid I completely alienated my brother and uncle from me."

Aliza pulled her lips to one side. "It wasn't you, that's how the fever works. It starts by tearing down your most precious relationships so that when you really fall ill, no one will be there to help you. That's why they say it comes from the echo of Sauron himself. It's smarter, more evil than any other illness."

Kíli nodded and tried not to let tears well up in his eyes.

"I miss my brother," he admitted. "I can't believe I may never see him again. Especially when I was such a brute to him."

"I'm sure your family worked out what was going on," Aliza said quickly. "If you're not normally a cad, that is. I'm sure they're coming to get you right now." Kíli tried to smile, but he still felt chilled. Aliza patted his head and started to scrub the cut on his cheek. "Even if they didn't work it out, I'm sure they still love you enough not to abandon you." She rinsed out the cloth and then pressed the cool fabric against his neck.

"That's the thing about the fever, you see, and about Sauron. Always underestimating the strength we find with our loved ones."

-o-


-o-

Poor Kili. Don't worry folks, we'll be getting those Durin brothers in each other's sights soon enough.

Review if you want, I like hearing from you :)