Wow, thank you so much for the amazing response to the last chapter! I'm still in the midst of replying to all the lovely reviews I got, I'm glad the cliffhanger went down well.

101olive4U - Thank you so much for your lovely review, it was wonderful to receive, thank you!

Here's the next chapter for you, forgive any mistakes as ever :P

Read. Enjoy. Review.

Chapter Thirty Six # Bleeding Out #

Bilbo had never moved so fast in his life.

For the entirety of the battle he had been scampering about unseen, doing everything that he could to ensure that the company all survived the carnage around him with the little sword he had named 'Sting' after the incident with the spiders. He knew that ultimately his actions were going unnoticed by those he was protecting. Though fires from the torches of the warriors of both good and evil lit the battle field enough to allow the combatants to see who they were fighting, the night was still dark and it was easy to miss little details, especially invisible ones. Bilbo was glad that his friends could not see him – he knew that Kíli would be in more danger if he was worrying about defending Bilbo.

Now Kíli was in more danger than Bilbo could possible fathom, and Bilbo had never moved so fast in his life.

His Kíli, his sweet, innocent, little Kíli was kneeling on the floor before a murderous orc, his brother cradled in his lap. For his part, Fíli looked terrified, his wide eyes staring up at the orc above him as he raised one blood soaked hand shakily above Kíli's face as if that would stop his imminent death.

With a roar so brutal it did not even sound like his own voice, Bilbo smashed Sting into the sword of the offending orc, knocking it of course just as the metal bit into the side of Kíli's neck. The orc staggered, stunned, and Bilbo took advantage of its confusion, stabbing the foul thing in its heart viciously.

"Kíli, Fíli!" Thorin's cry was full of fear and pain and Bilbo turned to see Kíli flinch away from the king slightly as Thorin swooped down to protect his nephews.

Bilbo looked intently at Kíli and his stomach swooped sickeningly at the sight of the blood trickling down his little one's neck, but when the young dwarf's hand shakily swiped at it the cut was revealed to be more of a scrape and Bilbo let out a breath shakily. It looked as though Fíli was trying to get up too, and Bilbo could see that the blood seeping between his fingers seemed to be slowing already.

He offered up a silent prayer of thanks and turned around, stabbing at the nearest orc. Bilbo would stay close now, close to Kíli where he could make sure that everything was done to keep his son safe…

Bilbo had no idea how to fight, but he would do it until every last enemy was dead and his Kíli was safe from harm's way. If it took his own life, it took his own life – that mattered little to the hobbit as long as Kíli was safe.

It felt like his back had been turned for only seconds, but when he glanced over his shoulder Kíli and Fíli had moved about four feet to their right. Fíli was propped up against a large boulder, his hand still pressed against his neck. Bilbo prayed desperately that the bleeding had stopped, though he knew that the excitement of battle would only increase Fíli's heart rate and therefore the speed at which Fíli would bleed out. Fighting would only increase Fíli's likelihood of bleeding out as well. It was far better that the young dwarf sit the rest of the fight out, however much he would hate it.

Kíli was standing above his brother protectively, fighting furiously whenever anyone came anywhere near his brother. It made Bilbo proud at the same time as it paralysed him with fear. Thorin was close by to Fíli and Kíli, protecting them from the right, it seemed, so Bilbo took over Kíli's left side, slaughtering anything that came remotely close to him. Unfortunately, being invisible did not mean that Bilbo was untouchable, and suddenly an elbow came out of nowhere and smashed into his face, sending him reeling to the ground.

He landed with a huff next to Fíli, who looked towards him with confusion painted all over his face. Bilbo frowned, wondering if he could be seen, but then he realised that it was his little blade that Fíli's eyes had fell upon and he sighed in relief, before noticing something in the darkness.

It was not the wound in his neck preventing Fíli from re-joining the battle – at least not only the wound. Bilbo's breathing started to quicken as he saw the long knife jutting out of Fíli's hip and the blood was pooling beneath his body at an alarming rate.

The hobbit's heart fell and he swallowed, looking up at Fíli's pale, sweating face. The hopelessness in his Fíli's eyes was rivalled only by the terror as he watched his baby brother protecting him against legions of orcs. There was pain on Fíli's face too, a lot of it, as well as a look of weariness that chilled Bilbo to the bone.

"Hold on, Fíli…" he whispered as protective instinct surged through his veins, though he was well aware that Fíli would never be able to hear him over the roaring clamour of the battle.

The halfling scrambled to his feet, grasping the hilt of his little sword with renewed vigour. He did not know if he could save Fíli and Kíli, but he would do everything that he could to do just that. An orc lunged at Fíli from the side and Bilbo lurched straight for it, stabbing his sword straight into its gut and wrenching it upwards.

The black blood splattered up onto his face and he spluttered in disgust, though he did not pause to do anything about it, instead turning to stab yet another goblin coming in from Fíli's right. Right, left, forward, and back, Bilbo stabbed more orcs and goblins than he could count, doing everything he could to keep them away from Kíli and his brother.

Minutes bled into hours as his friends bled into the dirt and Bilbo's exhaustion soon began to bombard his body from the inside. Every muscle burned like he was being turned around on a spit over a fire and he was so very tired. Even so, by the time the sun began to redden the dawn sky, he had still barely been scratched on the battlefield, his magic ring serving him well in keeping him unseen and alive.

Suddenly he was knocked to the floor again, this time by one of Dain's soldiers – though he knew that the dwarf could not see him. He groaned as he smashed onto the floor, blinking slowly and shaking his head as he looked up.

"Kíli!" Fíli's weak cry was as loud as the roar of a lion in the hobbit's ears.

Bilbo's heart froze solid and everything melted away from his vision apart from his son, who was fighting desperately with two goblins and completely unaware of the orc lurching towards his back. Bilbo scrambled to his feet, his mind screaming as he realised that there was not even time to knock the sword out of the way.

There was only one thing that Bilbo could do, and he did it without a sound.

The orc must have been confused when his sword impaled something other than the young dwarf's back. The confusion must have grown when blood bubbled out over the blade and began dripping to the floor from an invisible source. However one of Glóin's throwing axes took the orc's head off before he could make another move to kill the prince so the vile creature would not have been confused for long.

Bilbo fell to his knees with a soft moan, completely unable to make any other kind of noise, his arms wrapping around his bleeding stomach. Agony seared through his midsection and he knew that his weak efforts to save himself would likely be in vain as he fell to the floor, his face hitting the cold, hard ground beneath him.

He looked up at Kíli and took a shallow breath, reaching out for his son with a shaky hand, though he could not make a sound through the agony tearing his stomach apart. Weak fingers wrapped around Kíli's ankle, but the young dwarf was fighting for his life and he kicked Bilbo's hands away and continued to fight.

Lights danced before his eyes as Bilbo allowed the tiredness to claim him, and he let a small smile grace his face as the lights flickered and finally died.

Kíli had no idea.

He did not know that while he fought, his father lay bleeding out behind him. How could he have known, when he could not see? He had allowed himself to assume that Bilbo would have joined the men or the elves – he was far too sensible to plunge into battle on his own.

Kíli did not know that the weak grip around his ankle had been the plea of a dying friend and not the attack of a squirming foe. He did not know that with every heartbeat, Bilbo bled out a little more onto the dust and dirt of the cold slopes of Erebor. He did not know that the orcs sword had sliced through his father's body in such a place that it would cause his life to cling to his body, condemning him to hours of semi-consciousness and torturous anguish before he would finally slip away.

It would be a lonely death, to fade away alone and afraid, but Kíli did not know.

As the sun rose high into the sky it was clear that the battle was won, and Kíli collapsed to his knees in relief as the last of the forces of evil fell back, fleeing towards the inevitable slaughter they met at the hands of those warriors still surging with bloodlust. One of them was Beorn, who had arrived part way through the fight – Kíli was not sure when, his focus had been only on keeping Fíli alive.

Kíli did not have a drop of bloodlust in his body. He wanted only to sleep, but he dragged himself over to his brother, stroking the blond hair out of his brother's sweaty face. Kíli's eyes filled with tears as Fíli's own eyes tried to focus on him.

"Fee…"

"K…Kíli…" his brother shuddered, blinking slowly.

"I'm here, I'm here…" Kíli choked, before turning his head around to add his desperate plea for a healer to the numerous cries for help now filling the air. "Someone help me, please, I need help!"

"Kíli…" Fíli sighed, his voice sounding almost relieved as his shaky hand touched Kíli's cheek and dragged his brother's attention back to himself. "Kíli… Hurt?"

"No, Fíli…" Kíli sobbed, though he truthfully felt worse than he had falling out of that old tree at Bell's birthday party. The thought of the Shire made him sob again and he grabbed Fíli's hand. "No, I'm not hurt…"

"Hmm," Fíli licked his dry lips, a faint smile passing over them. "Looks like I…did my job…this time…"

Kíli's laugh was a ghost of a sound, fleeting and insubstantial. "Of course you did."

Fíli smiled and closed his eyes and Kíli yelped frantically, grabbing his brother's shoulder.

"Fíli, Fíli!"

The blue eyes flickered open again and Fíli's moustache drooped as his mouth pulled into a frown. "Kíli… What's… wrong…hurt?"

"Don't you dare!" Kíli warned, his voice trembling as tears streamed unstoppably down his cheeks. "Don't you dare leave me, Fíli, you can't leave me, please, please! I can't do this without you, Fee, please!"

Fíli sighed, though it sounded as if he had tried to snort with bitter laughter. "You are…going to leave…me…anyway…"

"F-Fee?" Kíli whispered, his eyes widening and his heart racing as he sobbed. "No, that's not…that's not what I meant, that's not what I want! I never wanted to leave you; I never want to leave you ever again, but Fee you can't leave me, please! Please don't, please, please, please…"

"Shh," The older brother's frown deepened as Kíli sobbed desperately, and Fíli raised his shaking hand to wipe the tears away from Kíli's cheeks, entangling his fingers in the younger dwarf's thick, dark hair when it became apparent that there was no stopping the tears' salty flow. "Don't cry, Kíli… don't cry…"

"Then don't leave me!" Kíli begged through his tears. "Please, Fíli, please, please!"

"Nadadith…" Fíli breathed with a faint smile. "I promise…I will try…to stay…with you. Always, Kee. Don't cry…"

Kíli let out a watery laugh, pushing Fíli's hair away from his forehead again.

"What help do you need, young dwarf?"

Kíli looked up and blinked at Beorn, who was towering above him in naught but his trousers.

"M-my brother!" Kíli stammered, "He's hurt!"

Beorn bowed his large head and crouched down beside the brothers, though he still towered over them both. "Master dwarf, where are your wounds?"

Fíli swallowed and licked his lips before replying. "My neck...hip..."

Beorn glanced at Fíli's neck and then looked at the blade still jutting out of his hip with a heavy frown.

"I d-didn't want to take it out, Daisy said it makes it w-worse sometimes to take it out." Kíli worried, looking up at the skin-changer fearfully.

Beorn simply nodded. "Do I have your permission to carry you to the healers, Master Dwarf?"

Fíli nodded tightly and Beorn scooped him up so quickly that the young dwarf barely even had time to moan. Kíli flew to his feet, though he was still below Fíli and trotted along beside Beorn fearfully.

"Fíli? Fee?"

"'M still here, Kíli..." Fíli sighed quietly, though Kíli's fears were not even slightly extinguished.

They reached the healing tents quickly, and Kíli would have been impressed to see how organised they already were if he were not so preoccupied with his brother's condition.

"Fíli? Kíli?" A familiar, gruff voice called out, and Kíli almost melted in relief at the sight of the company healer.

"Óin! Fíli's hurt!"

"Aye, bring him in here," Óin held open the flap of a large but more private tent, eyeing Beorn almost curiously for a moment before turning his attention to the ailing prince the skin-changer set down on the make-shift bed.

"What have you done to yourself now, lad?" Óin's voice was strangely calm as he began pulling apart Fíli's armour to look at the wound. Kíli's heart quickened as the healer's jaw tightened and Óin stood up quickly. "Kíli, listen to me because this is very important – I'm going to get some help, I need you to start getting his clothes off, laddie, I need to get to that wound."

Kíli instantly obeyed, his trembling fingers pulling apart the blood-soaked straps and buckles with the unlearned clumsiness of a frightened child as Óin hurried away. As he removed his brother's armour, Kíli could see that the knife had somehow slipped under Fíli's shiny mithril shirt and he cast the bejewelled armour aside without a second thought.

"Kíli..." Fíli coughed tightly, "Be...careful... that's… invaluable."

"No it's not." Kíli retorted shakily, his stomach twisting at the sight of Fíli's fierce wound. "Your life is, though, so stay with me. You promised."

Fíli smiled sadly. "I know, Kee... I know."

Kíli tried to smile back but his weak attempt at a grin fell from his face as Óin barrelled back in, a young human girl with a bucket of steaming water in tow. The healer cast a dark look over Fíli's wound before snapping out.

"I need him moved to the back of the tent, there! Quickly!"

Kíli floundered in the midst of his fear but Beorn did not, and once again the skin-changer took Fíli in his arms like a babe and disappeared into the back of the tent, a small area that was sectioned off with a thin sheet. Óin and the girl made their way into the tent and Kíli made to follow, but Óin stopped him.

"It'll be easier for everyone if you stay out here, laddie. I need my space in there an' I've got Iola to help me - she's trained in the art of healing and you aren't, before you make a smart answer. Your brother's in safe hands, Kíli."

Óin had given Kíli little room for argument or interruption but he protested anyway. "Fíli, Fíli-"

"Enough of that, lad." Óin warned, only to be interrupted again.

"No, no you don't understand! I can't leave him, I promised!"

"Kee..." Fíli's call was weak, but it was audible and Óin allowed Kíli to push past him into the back of a tent with a slight growl of annoyance.

"I'm here, Fee..." He whimpered, kneeling by his brother's head.

Fíli smiled, stroking Kíli's hair. "I'll be…alright, Kíli. You go…help people...You're…good at….that…"

"Are you sure?" Kíli whispered.

Fíli's eyes filled with tears at the realisation that it would be the last time he ever saw his baby brother if anything were to go wrong. He knew that things were likely to go wrong – whatever promises he made to Kíli did not change the fact that there was a knife wedged in his body and a bloody gash in his neck. Even if he was lucky enough to escape infection, any number of things could severe his soul from his body within the next few hours, if he did not succumb to the blood loss.

Fíli did not want to die, and he did not want to die alone. He wanted Kíli to stay with him, just in case. However, he had watched Kíli die once, and he would not put his baby brother through that agony.

"I'm sure, nadadith. I love you."

"I love you, too." Kíli promised, squeezing Fíli's hand and slowly backing away.

At least Fíli was with the healers, Kíli supposed. His big brother would be alright.

Agonised screaming drew Kíli's head to the right and he paled, rushing forward to help Bifur carry Bofur into the healing tent. The younger miner was writhing in his cousin's arms, howls tearing from his lips as the pain spasmed through his body from the horrific wound in his leg.

Óin stuck his head out of the flap of the tent and assessed the situation in moments, before barking out. "Aderyn, we need you now!"

A woman ran into the tent and looked at Bofur, nodding quickly and tying a white apron around her waist. "I'm here, Master Óin. Lay him down there, please."

Bifur growled some unintelligible words in Khuzdul but, with Kíli's assistance, did as the healer asked.

Aderyn knelt down by Bofur's side, looking to a young boy lingering by the doorway who could be no more than twelve years old. "Aled, you know what to do."

The boy nodded and darted off, returning moments later with a small pot of steaming water and a clean satchel. Bifur collapsed to the floor at Bofur's side, muttering words that were undoubtedly designed to soothe his ailing cousin.

Kíli looked on with growing horror as the miner continued to groan in anguish, his pain tearing from his chest noisily. He looked to Aderyn desperately. "Can you help him?"

"Of course I can, young dwarf." The woman scoffed, though not unkindly. "I have been healing for many years now; your friend should be fine."

The flap of the tent burst open and Dwalin staggered in, clutching his arm tightly. His eyes darted over to Bofur and he winced, nodding at the healer and at Bifur before catching sight of Kíli. Within seconds Dwalin had crossed over to Kíli and embraced him fiercely for a moment. "Kíli, thank Mahal… Are you hurt?"

Kíli shook his head, briefly returning Dwalin's embrace before pulling away. "Dwalin, Fíli's hurt, he's very hurt. Óin won't let me see him."

Dwalin's jaw tightened and he swore loudly. "Damn… Have you seen Thorin?"

Kíli swallowed fearfully, shaking his head. "No, not in a few hours…"

Dwalin swore again. "No one's seen him since the battle was finished, we don't know where he is…"

It was at that moment that Gandalf entered the tent with none other than Bard of Lake-town and the moment the wizard's eyes rested on Kíli he relaxed slightly. "Ah, Kíli. I am very glad you are alive. Where is Bilbo, I need to speak with him?"

"B-Bilbo?" Kíli stammered fearfully, his head pounding and his heart racing. "I don't know...I thought he would've joined with the men or the elves for the battle."

Bard looked at Gandalf. "He did not join us, Master Baggins, and he has been seen by neither the elven camp nor my own as of yet."

Panic flared in Kíli's heart with the dark possibilities and he looked to Gandalf. "He could be anywhere! He could be hurt!"

Gandalf's eyes darkened and he nodded. "He could..."

Another trio of dwarves staggered into the tent and Kíli's heart lurched at the sight of Dori slung limply between his two brothers. A dwarven healer who had accompanied Dain followed them in and settled Dori and Ori down in two of the other beds, though Nori rejected the unfamiliar dwarf's efforts to help him, shaking the healer's hands away and gently pushing Ori down onto the bed when the younger brother tried to get up and see if Dori was alright.

Bofur let out a pained cry and Nori looked over at his friend, his eyes full of pain. A little relief mingled with the pain when he took in the sight of Dwalin, Kíli and Gandalf standing relatively unharmed.

"Master Nori," Gandalf's voice was kind but urgent. "Have you seen Bilbo or Thorin?"

Nori's face lost what little colour it had left and he shook his head slowly. "I saw Thorin not ten minutes ago, he was helping the wounded up on the north side of the battlefield, but Bilbo… No, I haven't seen Bilbo. I thought...I thought I heard him, a couple of times, but it was my imagination playing tricks on me, I couldn't see him anywhere."

Kíli's heart pounded and he barely suppressed playing his whimper of fear.

"K-Kíli!" Bofur called out, his face contorted in an agonised grimace as he tried to control his pain. "The damn...the-ah!"

"You need to stop talking, Master Dwarf." Aderyn instructed calmly as she began treat his leg.

Bofur gritted his teeth and forced out three more words. "Damn...ring...fool..."

Kíli felt the blood drain from his face as everything began to make sense.

The scimitar that had been about to slice off his head merely scraping his neck, the numerous times he thought he had seen orcs and goblins drop without a reason, the way that no one ever seemed to attack them from their right…

"I was there, standing beside you."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. I'll never leave you alone, not if I can help it."

"I'm trying to protect Kíli - you're the one leading him like a lamb to the slaughter!"

"Oh, Mahal…" Kíli swallowed. If Bilbo had been there all along, he would have come when Kíli had screamed for help. He would not have left Kíli on the floor, drowning in Fíli's blood.

Kíli could think of only one thing that would have stopped him.

"Oh no, no, no!"

"What ring? Kíli?" Gandalf frowned, and Kíli swallowed.

"Bilbo's hurt!"

"Kíli, Kíli!" Dwalin roared as Kíli fled, but Kíli did not listen. He could hear the warrior cursing, he could hear Nori chasing him, but he did not care.

He ran, faster than he had ever ran in his life, his feet pounding against the ground as he raced back to where they had fought. The sight of so much blood staining the ground where Fíli had been lying made Kíli's stomach curl, but he did not listen to it.

"Bilbo!" he bellowed, sending his hobbit's name flying into the air and praying for an answer. "Bilbo!"

"Kíli, what am I looking for?"

Kíli whirled around, blinking at Nori's question. "Uh… his sword, a patch of blood without a body, anything! He has a ring that makes him invisible."

"Oh, that's normal."

Kíli ignored Nori's remark and went back to scouring the ground until something caught his eye. A bloody sword was apparently hovering in thin air, blood soaking the ground beneath it on both sides, though there was a gap between the two blood pools.

A gap the size of a hobbit.

"Bilbo…" Kíli choked, staggering over and falling to his knees next to the sword, reaching down until his hand touched something solid. A frightened keen left Kíli's throat as his hands travelled down what felt like an arm and his fingertips touched the cold band of a ring. Fumbling with the invisible hand, Kíli wrenched the cursed ring off of the cold finger, and for a moment the entire world ground to a halt.

Then the young dwarf let out a stricken howl of pure agony, dragging the blood soaked hobbit into his lap and trying desperately to stop the sluggish bleeding from the black blade jutting out of Bilbo's abdomen.

"No!" He screamed at the closed eyes and pale face of the hobbit as his fingers grappled to find a pulse in his father's bloodied. "Bilbo, wake up, wake up! Help! Someone help me, please!"

How's that for a plot twist then, eh? I hope you enjoyed that little chapter; I already have half of the next one written so it should be updated relatively soon. This is something else that was planned from the beginning, though I dabbled with a bit of false foreshadowing ;)

That being said, no one is out of the woods yet so stay tuned :)

Let me know what yah think!