Chapter 6

The orcs came down the mountain in a great wave, heading straight for them. Kili began rapidly firing arrow into the crowd, hoping to even the odds but there were just too many of them and he had too few arrows.

Vili had pulled out his duel swords and passed one of them to Kili as the first orcs descended on them.

Memories of the resent battle at the foot of the lonely mountain flashed in Kili's mind as he slashed and stabbed, black blood splattering his face.

Fili was not here to fight by his side. He was back at the inn, safe but completely oblivious to the peril his brother faced. Kili wavered between the desire to have Fili at his back and the need to keep him safe.

Kili and his father moved in time with each other, maybe not with the same fluidity as with Fili but enough to keep the orcs at bay.

For a second Kili wondered if this is what it would have been like; training with his father. The shrieks of the dying orcs brought him back to the present in time to deflect a blade aimed at his heart. Thorin would have his head if he was killed because he lost focus.

More orcs poured in and Kili felt his arms beginning to tire. He was never able to replenish his strength from his archery session earlier that day and it was starting to show.

A cry of pain behind him caused his attention to shift and he watched as Vili fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding arm. His sword had been knocked away at some point and an orc loomed over him a sick and triumphant smile splitting his face as he raised his sword above the dwarf's head.

Kili watched in horror as his father was about to he slain before his very eyes. Like with the warg, Kili acted on instinct, his feet moving before he was even aware of it. He slammed hard into Vili's body, pushing him to the side.

He only had a moment to register that his father was safe before white hot pain exploded in his chest as the orc's sword was pushed through his ribs. Blood spurted from his mouth, coating his lips as he stared into the dead eyes of his killer.

He was vaguely aware of someone shouting his name as his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the dirt.

Fili's worry grew more and more with each place they check only to find it void of a certain dark haired archer. He could tell Thorin was beginning to become concerned as well.

This would be no surprise to him if he was at home, Kili's antics growing up were always a source of worry for their uncle, who often joked that Kili was the cause of his gray hair. But this was not the same Thorin they had grown up with and Kili hasn't even been born yet.

And yet Thorin was still here with him, worrying over his youngest nephew.

The storm had reached it's crescendo by now, lashing at the tress and plastering their hair against their faces but even the monstrous claps of thunder could not completely drown out the sounds of the battle.

Both Fili and Thorin had drawn their weapons the instant the sound of clashing swords reached their ears.

The fight was already in full swing by the time they reached it. Hordes of orcs seemed to circle around two smaller figures. Fili paled when he realized one of them was Kili.

Without thought to his own safety, Fili threw himself into the fray with Thorin close behind. Guilt threatened to choke him when he realized it was all his fault Kili was in this mess to begin with. It was Fili's words that had driven him out into the storm and straight into a pack of orcs.

A scream cut through him like a knife. His head whipped around to see Vili on his knees. No, this wasn't right, he wasn't supposed to die for another three day, he couldn't possibly be killed tonight.

Fili's eyes fixed on the macabre scene in front of him, not even daring to blink. As the orc raised his blade Fili's breath caught in his throat, threatening to choke him. He had been prepared to watch his father die in the battle but he was not prepared to see Kili shove him out of the way seconds before the orc's blade pierced his body.

"Kili!" Fili's breath escaped him in one horror stricken scream.

Fili's feet flew over the body covered ground in a desperate attempt to reach his fallen brother. Thorin, who had beheaded the orc who had dared to harm his kin, now knelt beside Kili, cradling his head.

Fili threw himself down beside his brother, his knees sliding on the slick mud. Kili gasped for breath, choking on the blood that now filled his mouth.

"Oh, Mahal, Kili." Fili's hands shook as the ghosted over Kili's prone form, hardly daring to touch him for fear of causing him more pain.

"Fee..." Kili choked out. "Fili."

"I'm here, brother. Don't try to talk, you need to conserve your strength."

"We need to stop the bleeding. Put pressure on the wound," Thorin instructed Vili who did as he was told.

Kili groaned in agony, trying to pull away from the hands that were trying to help him. His breaths were coming in short, gargled pants.

"I'm sorry," Kili managed before his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell limp. Thorin placed two fingers at his neck and sighed in relief.

"He's still alive but we need to get him to Oin and fast."

The three of them lifted Kili into the air, careful not to jostle him more than was necessary and began the long track back to town.

Fili prayed to every god he knew that he brother would still be alive when they made it.