Chp11
The sounds of the battle had long since died out, and for now, the snow had stopped and the sky was clear and a mournful shade of reddish violet. Tauriel awoke, and looked down at the figure cradled in her arms. So beautiful he was, and still arrayed in all of his armor and battle gear, stained darkish red now. She laid him carefully on some soft earth that was nearby. She remembered she carried a few first aid items in the pack at her belt and she pulled out some loose linen cloth. She found a small pool of melted snow there too and began dipping the cloths into it. She proceeded in the task of wiping the dirt and blood off his face and hands. She also got out her small soft brush and brushed and cleaned his matted hair, because the visage she wanted now was the sweet and handsome dwarf that she fell in love with.
Once again, busy in her grief and tasks at hand, she did not hear others approach. They came up the hill slowly, most already sobbing before they reached the pair. They looked down and saw the dark haired, proud prince peacefully laying there as the elf maiden lovingly cleaned and washed him. They hoped beyond hope that possibly he was just wounded, and she was tending to him...had managed to save his life yet again! But, upon approaching closer, they observed the large wound in his chest and the surrounding chain mail stained dark red. Balin dropped to his knees and cried, "The line of Durin is no more! Mahal save us, there is no heir to ascend the throne and lead us." The others sobbed or moaned- we have no king!