Well, then. I don't know what to say about this chapter. It's just kinda...there.
Or here.
Whatever.
Well, then. No. Just no. The little bastard.
"Because Kili is still alive, but he's unconscious. We're taking him back to Rivendell. That's why Gandalf went back last night, to negotiate with the elven healers. He needs stronger medicine than what we can offer. I meant to tell you last night."
Instantly, I regretted treating him so harshly. A ray of hope shone through, but was instantly snuffed out when I remembered exactly who we'd be dealing with. "Suppose they refuse?" I sneered. "Elves are not known for their generosity towards dwarves, especially not fatally wounded ones. One less dwarf is a blessing to them."
"I can't believe…"
"Oh, believe it. I'm sure they wish we were wiped out completely." I sighed heavily. "I could not bear it if my brother died because of their conceit."
"But there is hope," he offered optimistically.
"Not much. Elves view us as inferior. I was only a child when the war was fought, when they refused to come to our aid. I did not understand then, and I don't fully understand now. But what I do know is that their grudge against us was strong enough to lead Erebor to ruin. They are a prideful lot who think of nothing and no one but themselves."
"There must be something…"
"Master Hobbit, you have spent your entire life in a pleasant realm. You do not know the cruelties of the world, or the pain. The agony of war, the sight of your fellow-men killed before your eyes…if you are to continue on with us, you must come to recognize hardship." My vision clouded, and I looked away. "I suppose we'd best be getting back."
"I suppose," he said, leading the way with the torch. My lantern had long since guttered out. Little did I know I was to face another trial.
Thorin was waiting for me in the cavern's opening, arms crossed and scowling. It was a look I knew all too well. He was furious.
"Mr. Baggins, go and pack. I need a word with my nephew," he ordered, his eyes never leaving me. Bilbo gladly fled to the safety of the party, far from the storm that awaited me. At least he had the good grace not to lecture me in front of everyone.
"Kili lives?" I asked, trying to sound hopeful.
"Yes. He lives. Which is why I must ask—what were you thinking, making such an ordeal for us? And what was that unholy noise? We thought we were under attack!"
I stumbled over my words searching for an excuse, like Bilbo had done not too long ago. How could I tell him I'd been off crying? He'd never understand. "I was…" I faltered, and decided to simply tell him the truth. "I let my emotions get the better of me. I though he was dead. I'm sorry, Uncle. I know it is no way for someone of my caliber to behave. But you know that Kili and I have always been close."
Thorin's face softened a bit. He knew, and he understood how close a family could be. He would never admit it, but his heart had never healed from the loss of his family. The only surviving kin he had was his sister Dis, my mother.
"I know you're worried, Fili, and that your love for your brother is strong. Never doubt me on that point…I've known my fair share of worry too. But you must learn to control your outbursts. You are wise, courageous, and responsible, but you are still young. Still vulnerable."
"I know, Uncle, and I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. The thought of losing him just…ate at me."
"At least you're honest," he observed. "Many a man wouldn't be." Thumping me on the shoulder, he told me to gather my things. "We've constructed a platform for Kili—he cannot wake. Oin tells me there appears to have been some damage to his organs. But he should be able to last until Rivendell. Our only hope now is that Gandalf has persuaded the healers."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had seen Kili coughing up blood. I was still too rattled to face his mighty temper.
When I got out into the dimly-lit cavern, I saw that Kili had been comfortably settled, bedding and all, on a makeshift stretcher comprised of what looked like thick branches, with leather straps woven to create a net. It wasn't until we were leaving that I noticed everyone was missing something—a belt, part of their armor—they had given it up for Kili's sake. No one mentioned anything to me, but I thanked them silently, praying for their protection and good health.
However good their intentions were, as we walked I could not shake from my mind the image of a funeral procession, Kili in a shroud being carried to his final resting place. Rivendell wasn't far…we hadn't put many miles behind us due to the storm. I only hoped he'd hold out until then.
Hooray for epic fakeouts.