Chapter 20:

Thorin strode across the battleground quickly, killing foes all around him with barely a second thought. He was surviving on pure instinct, using his survival skills to find his way through the masses of twisted bodies as he searched for Azog. His mind was singularly focused on finding the pale orc and no amount of swords thrust at him or arrows fired in his direction slowed him down.

Nothing distracted him until he heard a high shout from his left which he felt sure could not have come from any orc. Turning to see if it was a kinsman in need of help, Thorin dodged an arrow aimed at his head before picking up an axe off the floor and sending it into the head of the orc responsible. Catching sight of the origin of the high pitched yelp Thorin struggled not to roll his eyes at the sight of four orcs attempting to pull Legolas' limbs out of their sockets. The elf was struggling madly but it was clear he was losing the fight.

Groaning inwardly, Thorin ran to attack the orcs holding Legolas' legs, slicing through their legs cleanly with his sword. Their mutilated bodies collapsed to the ground and Legolas was able to free his legs and use them to flip over the heads of his two remaining attackers before slamming their heads together with all the force the elf could muster.

Wincing at his aching shoulders and legs, Legolas looked up and caught Thorin's eye. Giving the mountain King a quick nod of thanks, the elf ran off back into the heat of battle, leaving Thorin to mutter darkly about how this was the last time he ever fought alongside elves.

As Thorin continued his search for Azog, Kili frantically searched for his brother and uncle, expertly dodging enemies as he did so. Somewhere above him, high on the mountainside and unbeknown to him, Tauriel was attempting to spot her lover in the fray but was having little luck now that the numbers of warriors had greatly increased with the elves involvement.

Kili sliced through the throat of a particularly short and ugly orc and jumped on to a rock that jutted out of the side of the mountain and afforded him a view above the heads of his enemies. Still fighting those trying to hack at him, Kili tried to spot any sign of anyone who wasn't an orc, they seemed to be everywhere and he felt panic grip him. How could they survive against so great a foe? He couldn't see any of his kin or the Company and for a split second doubt entered his heart that perhaps he was the only one left. Fear gripped him and he took it out on the orcs attempting to surround him, fighting wildly and ferociously, and allowing his warriors instincts to carry him away from thought and into action and reaction.

Suddenly, while Kili was swinging at one particularly savage brute with gnarled teeth and a hooked nose the orcs around him all stepped away and cleared, as if taking the place of a crowd about to watch a great fight. Kili turned and spotted a huge, hideous orc approaching him with a giant, ugly blade in his great paws.

Kili gulped and gripped onto his sword, his eyes wide and hair wild.

"BOLG! BOLG! BOLG!" The orcs surrounding him shouted, grinning manically at the young prince.

Kili steeled himself and waited for the attack, his breath shaky and palms sweaty.

Bolg grinned at his prey and took a step forward, only to be knocked out of the way by a great crazy dwarf screaming loudly. Rolling over on the floor, Bolg grabbed one of the orc spectators and threw him at the dwarf who had attacked him in order to buy himself time to rise.

The dwarf caught the orc on the edge of his axe and threw him awkwardly into the crowd, knocking over six orcs as he did so. Pulling himself up, the dwarf faced Bolg once more and for the first time both Kili and Bolg recognised him.

"Thrain." Bolg spat, glaring at the dwarf with disgust.

Kili could barely believe his eyes; once more his grandfather had appeared when he'd needed him the most. Pride blossomed in his breast and once more he felt hope that he was no longer alone. They were the heroes after all, Durin's folk, they had come so far and done such deeds that they couldn't possibly fail now. Good always triumphed over evil in the stories, no matter how long it took.

With a wild shout, Thrain lunged for Bolg cutting deeply into the orcs arm. Bolg screeched and smacked the dwarf in the head with the side of his blade, sending his sprawling to the floor. Using the momentum to roll, Thrain neatly rolled into a kneeling position and stood up, holding his axe tightly.

Smiling at the orc, Thrain lunged again, using all his strength and speed to attempt to hack off one of Bolg's limbs.

But this time Bolg was ready for him and he grabbed the handle of the axe with his great fist and lifted the struggling dwarf up over his head. Thrain struggled and kicked Bolg hard in the face, causing the orc to drop the dwarf back to the ground where he was winded badly.

With the look of a giant who was suddenly no longer amused by the flea sizing up to him, Bolg lifted his foot and smashed it down hard on Thrains head. Putting as much weight as he could muster, Bolg smiled as he saw the helmet the dwarf was wearing began to buckle and then finally caved in as the great dwarf's skull folded under the immense pressure of the giant orcs body weight.

Screaming in anguish Kili jumped off his rock and landed on the orcs back, bringing his sword down onto and through the orcs head as he did so. With no warning of the princes attack, Bolg did not even realise death was upon him as Kili's sword entered his thick skull and continued out his mouth.

Bolg's corpse fell to the floor on top of Thrains broken body and Kili knelt on top, breathing heavily and trying to control his sudden grief. To have had his grandfather back and to have lost him so suddenly hurt Kili more than he had ever been hurt before, and the knowledge that Thrain had died protecting him made his heart ache all the more. Around him, the orcs who had been watching the fight closely hoping to see Bolg kill the dwarf scum were awed by Kili's anger and turned and ran, hoping to regroup with their commander and to have new orders.

His shoulders heaving, Kili allowed himself a moment of grief in all this bloodshed and hatred, and, with no enemies in the immediate vicinity, he was allowed to remain there untouched for a while.

But Kili knew he could not stay so for long and so he swallowed his fear and loathing and took his place once more on the rock and began to search for his kin once more. With Bolg's blood fresh and dripping off his sword, Kili attempted to take in the picture of the battle, both one great movement and thousands of individual ones creating a sea of death and agony.

It was to his right that he saw it, the great white warg with its terrible rider, strolling casually through the field of battle, seemingly without a care in the world. Gripping his sword tightly, Kili saw, just a few paces in front of the great orc was Thorin. The world seemed to slow down as Kili watched Thorin turn, set eyes on Azog the defiler before running head on into battle with his greatest enemy.

They came together in a clash of metal as Azog swung at Thorin. But Thorin had imagined this battle so many times in his head that he seemed to anticipate the orcs move. Parrying the blow, Thorin instead attacked the warg, bringing his blade down on the beast's snout. Snapping its head to the side and yowling in pain, Thorin took advantage of the beast's pain and Azog's momentary imbalance and sliced through the wargs throat.

Falling to its knees, the giant warg fell forward and threw its rider off, causing the orc to smash onto the rocks. Roaring at the loss of his companion, Azog rose and screamed defiantly in Thorin's face, the desire to kill written on every inch of his being.

Kili saw Thorin begin to taunt the orc, although his words were lost on the wind before Kili could hear them. Feeling a pang, Kili was frozen to the spot as he watched Thorin and Azog engage in a sort of dance, coming together and struggling before pulling apart, circling each other and repeating.

Just as Kili began to hope his uncle would prevail he saw Azog deal a blow to Thorin's knee that sliced it open and caused Thorin to yell out in pain, drop his weapon and fall to the floor.

Adrenaline hit Kili like a brick to the face and he jumped down from his vantage point and sprinted through the crowd, cursing himself for his own inaction.

'If he dies now, it's your fault you foolish little boy.'

Pushing past body after body, Kili didn't spare a single thought to the danger he could be in but ran straight to his uncle's side where, he repeatedly chastised himself, he should have been all along.

As he broke through the fleshy barriers between himself and Thorin Kili froze, his heart plummeting so far down he felt sure he would never feel its warm, reassuring beat again.

When he had last seen his uncle he had been alone, unarmed and with a single leg injury. Now, Thorin was lying broken off to the side, large cuts to his face and with his tunic soaked in his lifeblood. He lay unmoving and barely breathing as his shattered and cracked ribs pierced his lungs with every small movement.

But it was not this image of his dying uncle that had so stopped Kili's heart. Unseen to him as he had made his way to his uncle's side, his brother Fili had stepped in to protect his broken uncle in the fight against the defiler.

But Fili was weak from earlier injuries sustained in protecting Thorin as he blindly marched through the battle, glittering like a giant target only interested in finding Azog and barely mustering up enough interest to give himself any sort of defence. Fili had been his defence and he had paid for it with countless body blows and cuts.

Now exhausted, Fili had stood before Azog and made his stand, his head thinking only to protect his Kinsman and King whilst his heart hoped feverishly that Tauriel had found Kili and they were both safe together.

The fight hadn't lasted long and soon Fili was barely conscious, on his knees before the orc. It was the following scene that Kili saw as he broke through the crowd, Tauriel witnessed from her vantage point on high along with Thranduil, Gandalf and Bard who were dotted through the crowd but each high enough to what happened next.

Azog reached down; picked up the blade Thorin had been using earlier and faced Fili with a smug smile. One more Durin for his collection. Azog gripped Fili's once golden hair and brought the blade swiftly through the young prince's neck, laughing cruelly as the lifeless, headless corpse of Fili son of Vili fell to the floor with a thud.

An awed silence seemed to fall over the whole of Middle Earth for a few seconds. But then the world began turning again and Kili screamed defiantly, once more leaping into battle over a fallen kinsman. But this time it was different, he was facing Azog the defiler and he didn't have the advantage of the high ground or surprise, all he had was his own skill and courage. But it also wasn't some figure from stories who he barely knew either, that was Fili that was dead. His brother, protector and best friend. The one person who he loved above all others and who he had never been able to imagine life without.

Even in Kili's worst nightmares, where the dragon slaughtered them all and Azog ate their roasted flesh and they had all died terribly painful deaths he had still died alongside his brother. It had been unthinkable to him that Fili would not be there for him, caring for him until his last breath.

As he launched himself at Azog, images flew through his head. Fili helping him walk and talk as a child; Fili cleaning up after him when he'd had a nightmare and wet the bed, Fili teaching him how to read and being patient when the runes got all jumbled up in his head, Fili teaching him how to fight and making him his first ever bow. But that was all gone now, along with the dreams they'd had of their futures, happy and safe at home in Erebor. Fili had wanted his own family more than anything.

And now? All that was now gone, replaced by the image of Azog clutching his brothers severed head, an image which would forever be burnt into his eyes so that he would never be able to sleep without facing his brothers fate.

He should have done something. If he hadn't have stood watching Thorin and had instead gone to help him immediately they could have all lived. If only he'd found him earlier instead of taunting Legolas like a small child. And now Fili, and probably Thorin, were both gone and it was just too much for Kili's heart to handle.

Kili put every single ounce of energy he had left into his attack as he slammed into Azog, sending him flying. Tears were streaming down his face but in his loathing Kili didn't care.

For a second Azog smiled as he looked at the prince, realising that this was the last Durin left and soon he would have completed his vow. But that smugness lasted but a second, for Azog quickly realised that instead of demoralising the young dwarf, the murder of his brother had angered him and sent him into a wild and dangerous frenzy.

Such a frenzy could either help Azog by making the boy make simple mistakes or could be the end of him and he himself was beginning to tire already. Deciding that further angering the dwarf was the only way to make him a slave to his emotions and cause him to make a mistake that Azog could quickly and easily take advantage of, the orc grinned at the prince and wiggled the severed prince's head at Kili.

It had the desired effect as the act of shaking Fili's head to taunt Kili caused his brains to drop out and splat on the floor loudly.

Kili's stomach turned and he roared, running at Azog with everything he had. For a while Azog seemed to keep Kili at bay relatively easily, but, Kili was short and quick and seemed to the orc to be everywhere at once.

Masterfully flicking his sword up Kili dragged the sharp edge of the blade up Azog's torso, hitting a rib as he dragged it as deep as he could from the position he was in. Azog yelled and tried to swat the prince aside with his brother's head but Kili dodged and grabbed an arrow from the quiver on his back. Shoving the arrow in the orcs knee, Kili rolled to the side as Azog clutched his new injury, dropping Fili's head as he did so.

Rushing him quickly while the orc was distracted Kili hacked into the orcs back so deep his sword got caught in the giants shoulder blade and stuck there. Yelling, Azog smacked Kili in the gut, knocking him back on to the floor winded. Curling up defensively, Kili tried to crawl over to Thorin's sword, still slick with Fili's blood, in an attempt to grab a weapon to defend himself.

His mind was racing and he was surviving on instinct alone, not considering who had the advantage in the fight, not even wanting to win. Kili just wanted to kill Azog for what he had done to his big brother and he would have accepted death and a place in the halls of their forefathers with his brother as a worthy reward.

Azog wrenched Kili's blade from his shoulder and stamped on the dwarf's ankle, causing him to yell and turn round to try and get the orc off him. Azog sliced madly at Kili, barely bothering to aim properly as he just attempted to hurt the young dwarf. The blade sliced through Kili's stomach and he shouted out in agony as the sword left a gaping hole in his stomach and ripped half his guts out.

Pressing against his wound with his right hand Kili gazed up defiantly at the defiler. Smiling, Kili grabbed hold of an object just beneath his thigh with left hand and felt a small sense of relief. He would recognise the feel of this anywhere. It was one of Fili's many knives that he had obviously tried to use in defence of his life. And now, Fili having dropped it would save Kili. Praying to his brother, thanking him for taking care of him even in death, Kili waited for his moment as Azog leant down to smell him.

"Death clings to you dwarfling." He snarled, grinning down at Kili with a triumphant look.

"You are the only one left. Thror, Thrain, Thorin, your brother, they are all dead."

"Yes they are. But I'm not, remember that." With that Kili drove Fili's knife straight into Azog's heart, smiling warmly into the orcs dying eyes. "As long as one of us lives, you have a long way to go yet mutant."

Pushing up with what was left of his strength; Kili threw the dead Azog off of him and lay there on the ground, holding his vital organs in with his right hand.

Looking around him, Kili caught sight of Thorin, who was pale and barely conscious just a few yards away from him.

"Thorin!" He called out helplessly, suddenly terrified of dying alone.

'Fi died alone, and it's all your fault.' Came a voice from the back of his head, mocking his pain and cowardice.

"Uncle please." He begged, closing his eyes to the fear of the blackness that was beginning to cloud his senses.

"Kili," Murmured Thorin, his eyes flicking up to see where his nephew lay dying. "Is he dead, Azog? Did you kill him?"

Kili didn't answer; he just nodded his head slightly towards where Azog's corpse lay unmoving.

"Good. I'm so proud of you Ki, so proud. Your brother will come and get you, you'll be ok."

But Kili didn't say anything; he just sobbed and looked down by his foot where his brother's head lay watching him with its now glassy yet familiar eyes. There was no warmth in his gaze now, and there never would be again.

"No." Thorin whispered, finally seeing what Kili was powerless to look away from.

"Please Durin no."