The delay was way too long! I just want to let you know that I won't abandon this until it is done. We are nearly there.

Thank you for your patience!

The eagles are coming! thought Kili, watching with his mouth agape when he had seen the eagles appear from the golden horizon. Fili. Tears appeared in his eyes, watching with his feelings torn with grief and triumph as he watched the magnificent birds sweep like a massive claw across the orc army. He had watched and lifted his sword, yelling in Khudzul as he watched the man form of Beorn transform into a bear as he dropped out the sky and crashed into the monstrous army with a thunderous roar.

As Kili fought through more orcs, he caught sight of Tauriel easily slicing through as many orcs, her green eyes lit with more confidence, for she too knew hope of victory had arrived. And Mahal, she looked beautiful!

But Kili's thoughts remained on finding his uncle. The fear for his mother's brother was still too raw.

He heard Thorin's scream suddenly and looked in the direction of where it came from. The hairs on his skin rose in horror, hearing the pain in his uncle's voice. He was torn between leaving Tauriel and setting off in the direction to find Thorin.

"Go!" shouted Tauriel, catching his eye in understanding. "I can handle myself!"

"Be careful," Kili told her, as he stabbed an orc.

"You be careful."

Nodding at her, Kili turned and started running. More orcs charged at him, but less attacked him as more eagles kept unexpectedly swooping down and snatching two or three more into the sky. One had swept so close that it had knocked Kili backwards with a thump.

Jumping back to his feet, he shouted as loud as he could. "Uncle!"

He didn't know how much time had passed or how many orcs he had cut down to try the reach the destination of where he had feeling he might find Thorin.

After fighting through another crowd of orcs, while dodging more eagles swoops, Kili eventually found himself near the rocky ledge of the icy precipice. Seeing the icy glacier that flattened directly toward the view of the Lonely Mountain, the frozen falls cutting between the fortresses of Ravenhill, Kili was stuck clashing swords with another large orc when he glanced over and his eyes widened when spotting Azog standing over Thorin, who somehow had Orcrist and was using it to block the stabbing claw of the Pale Orc's arm.

The claw that stabbed Fili.

His rage white-hot, Kili snarled, sweeping his sword around the orc's, kicking it in the knee. Its blade nicked his sleeve, but Kili had stepped backward, moving his head to avoid the swinging blade that passed a breadth from his face twice over. When the chance was open, he lunged forward and stabbed his sword into the orc's chest, knocking them both over onto the icy rock-ledge. The body going limp beneath him, his gloved hands still clutching the hilt, Kili looked up, ready to get up...

Thorin had then slid his sword aside, leaving him exposed.

The claw had plunged right through his uncle's chest.

His world collapsed. "NOOOO!" Kili's scream of agony and horror was barely comprehensive, tearing through his heart. All sounds became mute. He saw nothing but the tragic scene of watching his beloved uncle get murdered right before his very eyes. The only father he ever knew.

First Fili. Then Thorin. His family. His body shuddered with soundless sobs in his frozen state, tears running numbly down his cold face, not able to tear his eyes away. Azog grinning with glee and malice. Thorin's cries muted and hollow.

Why, Uncle Thorin? Why?!

Thorin had let the filth kill him. He had given up, as Kili had done before. Was it out of guilt? Of grief? Why?!

It was over. It was...

Suddenly, Thorin's sword thrust forward and plunged into the heart of Azog.

Kili watched with numb shock and befuddlement as Thorin threw Azog down with impossible strength and straddled the Orc King beneath him, the claw still stuck in his chest while Orcrist remained embedded in Azog's. Thorin's face was twisted in complete rage, despite his pain. Nothing like Kili had ever seen before in even the worst of their battles together. There was a struggle, until he watched with disbelief as Thorin pulled back again and thrust down Orcrist with all his strength, so deeply that the cracking of the ice could be heard in the distance.

Azog's limps finally went limp, staring up at Thorin in wide-eyed disbelief. Thorin leaned over the Pale Orc, seeming to say something to him, before Azog finally went still. He was dead.

Kili still hadn't moved when he watched Thorin slowly pull himself out of Azog's arm-spike and then shakily stood up, staring down at the body of the filth who had hunted down his kin for many years.

The leader of the orc army was dead. They had won.

Orcrist remained impaled in the body as Thorin turned around, swaying as he slowly walked with his head high across the sleekness of the ice. Red drops stained the white, trailing his footsteps.

He's hurt! Uncle is hurt! His brain starting to work again, Kili finally broke out of his trance. His heart was pounding as he scrambled to his feet, picking his sword back up as he started down the slippery rocks looming over the ice. He nearly slipped twice as he made his way down elevating cliffs, until he leapt down, only to have his foot slip and him crashing to the ground. Groaning with pain, he sheathed his sword and started limping after his uncle, who was nearing the edge of the precipice, where the horizon shined like gold, the eagles crowding the skies with their screeches echoing, and the Lonely Mountain looming like a tall, gray stone giant. Powerful. Immortal. Beautiful and desolate.

Thorin stood at the ledge, staring out into the distance.

Kili quickened his pace, ignoring the pain in his hip as he cried out hoarsely, "Thorin! Uncle!" He was nearly there. Nearly there. The image of seeing Thorin get impaled burned in his mind and he despaired. Please, no! Please! No!

When Bilbo came to, his head hurt like...well, like he had been knocked out by the butt of an orc sword. Wincing from the fiery kick in his skull, he turned his head skywards, blinking away fuzzily into the golden light. And blinked again.

The swooping shapes of giant eagles battling giant bats crowded his vision. The eagles' musical shrieks confirmed their reality and not his imagination. They were quite a sight to behold.

"The eagles are coming," murmured Bilbo, relief rushing through him. More allies. When had they arrived? What happened?

Fili.

Gasping, Bilbo sat up quickly, but grunted from the pain, his hand automatically going to the bloody bump at the back of his head. Then, turning his head, he found the grounds full of orc bodies. Then he spotted Fili, laying in the same spot near the tower. There was no sign of Dwalin.

Fearing the worst, Bilbo stumbled to his feet, picking up Sting, and rushed to Fili's side. The young blond dwarf looked pale and still as death. Heart pounding anxiously, Bilbo placed a hand over Fili's lips. To his relief, there was breath, though it was faint. The strip of Bilbo's jacket managed to slow the bleeding very well for an extended amount of time, but it was staining right through.

"Oh, Fili," whispered Bilbo.

Fili needed a healer, or it wouldn't be long before he bled out. But he couldn't carry Fili all the way off Ravenhill, and Bilbo didn't know where Dwalin was. For all he knew, the big dwarf could be swarmed by orcs at the moment.

The eagles.

Turning towards the sky, Bilbo waved his arms and his sword. "HEY!" he shouted, trying to get the eagles' attention. He was almost certain the eagles could understand a call of distress. "HELP! WE NEED HELP! PLEASE!"

To his relief, one of the eagles that had just torn a bat to pieces in the sky noticed the hobbit's frantic calls and dove down. Bilbo jumped back as the large bird started coming toward him with graceful speed and landed before him with such unworldly majesty. The eagle looked like it was going to pick him up, but Bilbo waved his hands, shaking his head. "No, no, not me! Him!" He pointed at Fili. He never tried talking to the eagles before, and the very idea of talking to the great birds of Manwe astonished him, but the fear for his friends' life had Bilbo explaining without hesitation, "Please, I need you to take him to Dale. To...To where it's safe. Where the women and the children of the Men are. Please!"

"Bilbo!"

Bilbo turned and was relieved to find Dwalin running down the steps with blood-stained blades. "Dwalin! Thank goodness! I need your help!"

Thorin was strong. In Kili's eyes, he was the most powerful being in Middle-earth. He could survive this. He could still be saved. He had to be.

When he finally reached Thorin, his uncle had started to fall, but Kili managed to catch hold of him, grunting from the heavy weight. His arms tightened around Thorin, whose head leaned limply against his shoulder, his breath ragged, eyes closed from the pain.

"Thorin," gasped Kili, his voice cracking. He slowly and gently lay Thorin down until he laid across the ice, his head in the young dwarf's lap. Looking down, he spotted the bloody hole in Thorin's panting chest and nearly wretched from how deep it was. Finding it hard to breathe, gasping between sobs of fear and grief, Kili gently brushed sticky strands of hair out of his uncle's bloodstained face and then attempted to cover the wound to stop the bleeding. Thorin let out a strangled cough, blood dotting his lips as he struggled to breathe. The ice was polling with blood beneath him, and Kili struggled not to panic.

"Uncle?" Kili called out to him softly, as Thorin coughed again. "Uncle..."

Thorin's eyes slowly opened, still panting for breath. His pained blue eyes searched momentarily for the voice until they found the face of his youngest nephew. When recognition lit, Thorin gazed up at him, the tension in his face relaxing. "Kili," he whispered breathlessly.

Kili nodded and gave his uncle a smile, though tears pooled his eyes.

With some effort, Thorin lifted a gloved hand until the back of it pressed against the side of his nephew's face. Tracing his beautiful, warm smile. His eyes filled with tears as he gave his nephew a pained smile. "Kili," he said again. "You're alive….you're safe….Are my eyes dark?" Then he started coughing blood again, and Kili held him tight, shaking his head.

"No," he said desperately. "No, Thorin. I...Uncle, save your strength. I'll...I'll get help..."

"No," gasped Thorin, taking Kili's arm before he would get up. "Just...please stay...Stay with me..."

Kili instantly obeyed, taking his uncle's hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, though his voice cracked, and Thorin relaxed, his eyes turning briefly toward the sky as his wound jolted. He stroked the dying dwarf's head. "You will be fine. Help is coming."

Thorin shook his head, tears forming. He kept recalling the times he had wronged this wonderful dwarf whom he raised, trained, and treasured his whole life. Most recently in the Mountain, when he had been under the dragon sickness. Now there was little time left, to say what he needed to say. "Kili...forgive me...Fili...I sent him to his death. I almost sent you…..to yours." His voice cracked, a tear running down the side of his face, while Kili shook his head. "I...I have wronged you both...abandoned you, after I swore that I wouldn't. I have failed you." His breath caught in anguish. "I'm so sorry, Kili. For everything."

"No, Uncle," Kili squeezed his hand to his chest, shaking his head in sorrow. "There is nothing to forgive. You weren't yourself. I know that now. Fili knew that."

Thorin kept gazing up at him in wonder. From his beloved nephew's soothing words alone, the burden in his soul lifted slightly.

"My strong, loyal sister-son…." he whispered, thick with emotion. "You are better than I ever could be….more forgiving than I deserve…." His voice cracked. "All I wanted was to give you Erebor...our home...your right as princes...I wanted to give you so much more...but all I gave you was pain."

A sob choked Kili. He wanted to deny it, just to comfort his uncle, but Thorin continued, "I know that I have failed you many times…and I know that I never showed it as often….but I have always loved you…..and I am so proud….of who you, what you have become….You and your brother...are the best thing that ever happened to me…you always have been…."

Tears streaming down his face, Kili leaned down and pressed his forehead against Thorin's, as they had done in Erebor before they charged into battle.

Thorin felt his nephew's tears drop on his face, and weakly cupped his hand over the young dwarf's head, breathing, "You have….brought me happiness, a reason to live on...such a gift that I will never be able to repay...not even with all the gold on this earth." When Kili lifted his head slightly to meet Thorin's eyes, the Dwarf King smiled. "You will bring strength…..and happiness to others…..as you have done me, my precious…..reckless Kili." He brushed the hair strands from his nephew's face, his thumb wipe a tear that lingered in his stubble. "And I am happy to be able to look upon you…as the proud warrior you are….one last time."

"No!" sobbed Kili, more tears pouring out. "No….Thorin, please…."

"Tell your mother...that I am sorry...tell her that I love her," Thorin breathed, feeling himself start to fade. Kili took a shuddering breath, swallowed thickly, and nodded.

Then Kili tightened his hold to him. "I love you, Uncle," he croaked. With so little time left, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to thank his uncle for, but above all, for being the only father he ever knew and ever loved. More than he did as a king.

Thorin felt more tears in his eyes, as he smiled up at Kili. "And I love you, my wolf pup," he whispered, using Kili's childhood nickname.

Feeling the warmth of Kili's arms around him, he remembered the very first time he held his youngest sister-son as a newborn, so small and precious, taking his first breaths into the world...and now Thorin was honored to now take his last breaths in the arms of the young dwarf he saw as his son, knowing that he was safe and alive. In time, his grief will lessen. He will move on. He will be a great king, as his brother would have been. Different, but better than Thorin would have ever been. In time, Kili will see that.

He felt darkness start to pull him in, the pain of his wound still burning. It wouldn't be long before Thorin passed. He would have lost a lot of blood by now. He would fall asleep, leaving behind many regrets. At least he truly found peace with his living sister-son...

"Bilbo!" exclaimed Kili suddenly, seeing the hobbit running down the stairs frantically.

"Bilbo," gasped Thorin, surprised and thankful to see his burglar friend. Automatically, his hand reached out and grabbed Bilbo's arm like a lifeline.

"I'm here," gasped Bilbo, kneeling down and reached out to check Thorin's injury, "don't move! Lie still. Oh!" His hands fumbled when he spotted the large, dark wound punctured deeply through Thorin's heaving chest. Bilbo held his wrist up to his nose and mouth, trying not to be sick. He quickly pulled it together and started applying pressure on the wound. Kili watched with silent tears, almost unseeing.

"I'm glad you are here," gasped Thorin, and Bilbo shushed him gently. He caught Bilbo's gaze. "I wish to part from with friendship..."

"No," said Bilbo, determinedly, trying to keep the despair out of his voice, "you are not going anywhere, Thorin. You're going to live." He tried to meet Kili's eyes, but was only met the young Dwarf Prince's tears of loss and heartbreak. There was no hope shining in his eyes, a sight that did not suit him very well. Kili gave the slightest shake of his head at Bilbo, before looking away. He already knew there was nothing to be done.

"I would take back...my words...and what I did at the gate," breathed Thorin, not paying attention to Bilbo's words. "You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me." A tear of anguish ran down his face. "I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry...that I have led you into such peril." He grunted in pain, looking towards the sky as the wound jolted, causing Kili to adjust him more comfortably and stroked to calm him.

"No," said Bilbo, his hands moving to grip Thorin's and tried to catch the Dwarf King's eye desperately, "I am glad to shared to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. And it's far more than any Baggins deserves."

Kili looked up at the hobbit in gratitude and amazement. Thorin was now looking up at the hobbit with wonder and surprise. Bilbo did not look upon him with any resentment. Heartbreak, but with fondness and sincerity.

Bilbo continued with a small smile, glancing up at Kili, "Fili is alive. The eagles are carrying him back to Dale. Dwalin is with him." Kili gasped in disbelief. The shine reappeared in his eyes, filled with hope and life. Bilbo nodded, looking down at Thorin, who was smiling with tears of joy. "He may be able to make it, Thorin. Just hold on, and you...we can save you both. The eagles….the eagles are here, Thorin…."

Fili is alive...He may be able to make it...Kili was gasping for breath as he was starting to process it. He was feeling a mixture of emotions: joy and relief, but also pain and despair. He had gained his brother back, but was also losing his uncle. And Fili didn't know.

Hearing that Fili was alive, and feeling Kili close to him, Thorin now felt truly at peace. He would die knowing, not only had they truly reclaimed their homeland, but that Fili and Kili were safe. That Fili may rule as King Under the Mountain. That Kili will be by his side as his heir. The dwarves would have their home. His sister-sons will make peace with Men of Dale, and possibly the elves.

Now knowing that Bilbo Baggins held no ill-will against him, Thorin had never felt so light. As if all the burdens he carried throughout his life were fading away.

He squeezed Bilbo's hand. "Farewell, Master Burglar," he whispered. "Go back to your books...and your armchair...Plant your trees, watch them grow..." He struggled for breath, looking upon Bilbo's face, who was trying his best to smile for Thorin despite the clear devastation in his eyes. "If more people...valued a home...above gold...this world would be a merrier place."

"No, no, no, Thorin," whispered Bilbo, helplessly. "No, don't you dare..."

Oh, Bilbo. Thorin smiled at him sadly. Somehow it comforted him to know that Bilbo will grieve for him, though he hoped that in time this wonderful little hobbit will find happiness again. He really believed he would. Bilbo had the ability to bring courage and peace to others. Including for himself. He would find peace for himself, back in the Shire.

Live, child of the kindly West. Live on, and be free from the darkness.

Then he slowly turned his head to look up at Kili.

The golden light of the sky framed around his sister-son, making the chestnut color of his hair reflect a vibrant glow. Though tears glittered, his brown eyes shined even more brighter than they had before, though there was still sorrow. Grief, for the parting of his uncle and king. But there was also the spark of joy, for the news of his brother's survival, melded with look of love. The love of a son to a father. Perhaps it was the light of Mahal showing the beauty of Kili's soul. In that moment, he saw Kili as the sweet, innocent little dwarfling that always smiled and was so full of life. Now he saw that little dwarfling become a full-fledged warrior, still the same but more experienced. A prince of Erebor.

Beside Kili, he could see the bright smile of Fili, his golden lion. A true king.

His sons. Together. The pride and love he felt for both of them would be with them. Forever. Until they were old and gray, having lived long lives. He would wait for them. He would watch as his boys would live their live, their love and compassion adding more merriment to the world, and together, they would make Erebor whole again. Thorin truly believed it, and he could not have been more prouder.

Kili. While breathing his name, gazing into the face of his sister-son, the light in Thorin's eyes faded and his body slackened in Kili's arms with a final sigh. The proud and mighty soul of Thorin, son of Thrain, son Thror, passed into eternity.

Kili stared down at his uncle's face with a trembling jaw, shocked tears running down his nose. Those blue glassy eyes staring back at him, devoid of life...the bleeding stopped...he knew his uncle was gone. He could feel it. With agonized silence and tears, Kili trembled as he lifted a hand and stroked Thorin's face with tenderness. Then, after closing his uncle's eyes, Kili then leaned the body of the dwarf whom he loved like a father, clutching to him fiercely, and cried like a baby.

Bilbo also looked in shock. Having felt Thorin's hand fall limp in his own and then watching Kili weep over the body of his beloved uncle, the hobbit felt heavy tears run down his own cheeks and whimpers escaped his throat. He placed a comforting hand over Kili's shaking body, while his other cupped the head of the Dwarf King, whom he had traveled many miles, through peril and over lands. The stubborn dwarf who had become his friend, now gone from this world. Bilbo's heart was crushed.

Leaning down until his face was inches within Thorin's, Bilbo whispered with grief, "Farewell, King Under the Mountain."

He then kissed Thorin's forehead, before sitting back, shaking with tears, while watching Kili continue to hug Thorin close.

It was not long before all the dwarves found them, along with the wizard, traveling up Ravenhill until finding Kili still lying across Thorin, weeping. Bilbo had departed from the scene, sitting only a small distance away to grieve alone in silence, Gandalf joining him to smoke a pipe.

They all started to kneel before their fallen king in grief, though Balin knelt beside the weeping Kili, tears running down his own face. Dwalin stood vigil over them, his stoic face threatening to break with tears from the sight his fallen king. His brother-in-arms. He knew that he had been with Fili in Dale when Thorin had passed. After placing the crowned prince in the healing chambers, Dwalin had instantly rushed back into the field, only to find the orcs retreating from the field. The Company of Thorin Oakenshield had reunited on the battlefield, carry small wounds and scratches, but were all alive and overjoyed with their victory.

Together, led by Dwalin and Gandalf, they set off back to Ravenhill to find the heirs of Durin. But they were too late. Though relieved to see their young prince alive, their king was dead, and with him, the Pale Orc. He had died saving them, proud and honorable, like the king he truly was. His name would be passed through legend, and his legacy to the crowning of his sister-son, Fili, son of Dis.

Not far behind, Tauriel watched from the rocks as her beloved dwarf grieved over his kin, her heart shattering at the sight of seeing him in so much pain. For respect of King Thorin, she placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head.

As if sensing her presence, Kili lifted his head slowly, tears and hair stuck to his face, but his eyes found Tauriel's. He found comfort in her gaze, feeling the warmth of her love shroud to him.

Knowing that she was there for him, and the knowledge that his brother may live, Kili laid his forehead down on Thorin's bloody chest in silence. Somehow, even in death, his uncle seemed to proud and invincible.

"Farewell, brother of my mother," he whispered silently to Thorin. "My king…" He took a shuddering breath.

"My father."

Finally, we're nearing the conclusion. It should be a brief chapter, but it will belong to Fili now:)