The morning came again without further incident, and at first light, Kíli and Fíli set off for the nearby river. Within half an hour they were close enough to hear the water.

Then the fear started.

Kíli had no idea how Fíli would act once they were near the water. He thought back to his near-drowning, when Fíli had saved him; then he thought of his second time in the creek, this time held down by the very hands that had previously striven to save him. A shudder ran up his spine as he considered what might happen this time. Every moment brought more and more anxiety until Kíli could barely stand it. He began glancing nervously behind him, half expecting Fíli to pull a weapon from somewhere, though Kíli knew he had nothing. His hands were shaking—though whether that was his nerves or the fact that he was going on no sleep at all, he was not sure.

"What are you looking at?" Fíli said finally after Kíli glanced back once again.

"N-nothing," Kíli said, whipping back around.

Soon the Lune came into view. For the amount of noise it made from a distance, it seemed surprisingly calm here, and Kíli was grateful. The surging creek back home seemed much more dangerous at the moment.

"Where is the bridge?" Fíli called from behind him.

Kíli looked up and downstream and saw nothing; further north, he spotted a grey lump in the distance. He waved forward, and Fíli followed. Kíli kept himself at a distance from his brother, ever fearful that Fíli would suddenly come after him and try to toss him in.

I shouldn't feel like this, Kíli thought mournfully. He wished for the thousandth time that Fíli was well, that he was not in this state where Kíli had to worry for his life when in his brother's presence. He was used to feeling safe and secure around Fíli, not anxious, and he only hoped that Tom Bombadil could help as he hoped.

Eventually they reached the bridge. Upon reaching it, Kíli spurred his pony on and crossed the bridge quickly, and Fíli followed without incident. When they had both reached the other side, Kíli kept his pony at a decent speed, eager to get the Lune out of sight. The further he was from the water, the better he would feel.

Maybe when this was over, Fíli would teach him to swim. Kíli swallowed.

As had become typical between them on this journey, they traveled silently for several hours; when the sun was directly overhead, they stopped for lunch. They ate in silence and continued on quickly; with the river far behind, Kíli was eager to get past the hills and reach the Brandywine. Once they crossed the second river, they would only have a day's journey ahead of them—maybe two.

Kíli thought of his mother and uncle back home and wondered if they were searching. Of course they are searching, he thought. They wouldn't give up on us. He thought of Thorin, and his stomach tightened painfully. He knew his uncle well enough to understand that what he had done would be seen as nothing less than complete betrayal, and he feared what the consequences would be when he came home. But maybe, just maybe, with Fíli at his side completely restored, they would forget his rash actions and instead thank him for taking the initiative that no one else was willing to take.

They stopped late in the evening for supper, after the sun had set. Both Dwarves were famished. Kíli had spotted a rabbit in the afternoon and had quickly shot it; he expertly skinned and cooked it over the fire when they had finally stopped. The taste of hot meat as opposed to dry bread and jerky put him in higher spirits—in fact, he felt so cheered by his good catch that he attempted to make conversation.

"I don't think I've ever had a better rabbit," Kíli said cheerfully.

"Aye, it's good," Fíli responded quietly.

Kíli looked up at his brother in surprise. He had not truly expected him to respond—and if he had, he expected some kind of snide remark. Fíli did not look at him, however; he kept his gaze firmly planted on the food in front of him.

"Would—uh, would you like some more?" Kíli offered.

"Thank you," Fíli said, taking the meat Kíli held out for him. Kíli blinked and stared; this was wholly unexpected. Fíli almost seemed to be as he had been before, albeit if he was in a very bad mood.

He decided to take advantage of his brother's seemingly good temper. "I think we're making good time," he said.

"I wouldn't know," Fíli said. "As long as it's over soon."

Kíli frowned. "You still don't believe me, do you?" he said.

Fíli paused, chewing, and looked beyond Kíli out into the distance. After a few moments, he shook his head and looked back down at his food.

"No," he said. "I can't."

Kíli's shoulders dropped, and the corners of his mouth pulled even further down. He let some time pass before he decided to speak again.

"What is it," he said, "that makes you so unwilling to believe me, Fíli?"

Fíli sighed and finally met Kíli's eye coldly. "Why do you keep trying to have this conversation?" he said. "Isn't it enough for you that I haven't run off or killed you yet?"

Kíli swallowed. Yet.

"But why?" he pressed. "What is keeping you here? I am trying to understand."

"Why can't that just be enough?" Fíli snapped. "Why do I have to explain myself to you? Can't you just shut up and let me be?"

Maybe Kíli had been wrong. Fíli wasn't in a good mood at all.

"Never mind," he mumbled, and he fell silent.

After they had finished eating, both Dwarves cleaned up and laid out their bedrolls under the cover of the trees. Kíli sat up straight, however, instead of lying down.

"Are you going to sleep?" said Fíli.

"Someone has to keep watch," Kíli said. He blinked slowly; he had handled his lack of sleep well through the day, but now that he wasn't moving and the sky had darkened, it was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

"I can keep watch," Fíli said.

"No," Kíli said immediately.

"I won't run off."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine," Fíli said roughly. He lay down with a huff, and Kíli sighed, staring out into the night.

They had camped on top of one of the smaller hills of the area in order to keep watch from all sides. To the north, Kíli only saw more hills; he knew that beyond them and beyond the trees lay the ruins of Annúminas and Lake Nenuial. He had never been there, but Balin had taught him about the kingdoms of Men that used to be in these parts. He hadn't paid much attention, of course, but he could remember a little. It had once been a great city, the glory of the North-Kingdom of Arnor. Now it had lain in ruins for two thousand years, though Kíli had heard that sometimes the Rangers took refuge there.

That was not their path, however. He looked south, towards the Shire, and admired the faraway twinkling of Hobbit homes in the Northfarthing. He didn't know much about Hobbits, but he did know from his various ventures through on the Road that they seemed to stay up quite late into the night. They also had excellent ale in their inns, and Kíli reminisced wistfully, wishing he could stop there and have a drink or two. Maybe on the way back. They had no need for secrecy then.

"Want to stop in the Shire on the way back?" Kíli said.

"You speak as if I'll be with you," Fíli muttered sleepily.

"You will," Kíli said confidently. "They have inns in the Shire. Good food, great beer. Soft beds. The Hobbits are a bit suspicious, especially once you get past Buckland, but they'll cater to you if you mind your own business."

"You're making conversation again," Fíli sighed.

"They always look a little frightened at first," Kíli continued, more to himself than Fíli now. "But they're kind folk. The more adventurous ones will even talk to you, listen to your stories. Well, maybe only the ones in Bree. A few in Buckland, too. Never when Dwalin's with us, though. He makes every innkeeper go white as a sheet."

A great guffaw came from Fíli then, and Kíli whirled about and looked at his brother with wide eyes. Fíli looked about as shocked as he did; he snapped his mouth shut and attempted to pull a blank expression.

"Did you just laugh?" Kíli said.

"Shut up," Fíli mumbled.

"You just laughed," said Kíli incredulously.

Fíli did not respond. Instead, he rolled over so that Kíli could not see his face and drew his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He heaved a great sigh, and then he was still.

Kíli, however, could not stop smiling.

Kíli started awake suddenly to a feeling of falling and immediately cursed himself for dozing off. He looked around in the dark—nothing. He looked behind him—Fíli was sound asleep. He blinked slowly and stretched; his eyes did not want to stay open. He was far too tired. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the ground and walked down the hill a ways, stumbling over bushes and tree roots but never fully losing his footing.

"How am I going to do this?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I have… to sleep sometime."

He had clearly not thought this through enough. The Old Forest was probably another two days away by pony—how was he going to stay awake? He did not trust Fíli with his life. Not anymore.

Maybe I should just sleep without leaving a watch, he thought. He dismissed that thought quickly, however. Thorin and Dwalin would kill him for even considering such a thing—they had drilled into him that someone should always be on watch. Someone needed to make sure that no one was killed or taken away in the night.

Kíli sighed again and leaned against a nearby tree. As soon as his weight was supported, his eyes closed on their own; suddenly, he stumbled, and once again he jerked awake. He groaned.

A wolf's howl in the distance startled Kíli awake, and he looked around nervously. Was it a wolf? As far as he knew, there was no lake nearer than Lake Nenuial, so it could not be a loon. He made the short trek back to his and Fíli's camp with a pounding heart, but Fíli was still safe and sound, and the ponies did not even seem nervous. We'll be fine.

The sudden adrenaline gave him the will to keep awake, at least for a while. Throughout the rest of the night, he kept watch; eventually, the extreme tiredness passed again, leaving in its wake a cold fatigue that left him trembling. His eyes felt dry, and no matter how close he kept his toes to the fire, they just could not seem to warm up. As the day came closer, a thick fog rolled in at the foot of the hill, and Kíli watched it wearily. At first light, Kíli woke Fíli unceremoniously with a violent shake.

"Get up," he said, his voice scratchy with exhaustion. "We're moving out."

"It's barely light," Fíli complained.

"I want to get a move on today," Kíli said. "The further we can travel today, the closer we'll be to the Old Forest. Get up."

"All right, fine," Fíli grumbled.

As soon as they had eaten some leftover rabbit and packed up, they headed out again. The ponies were frisky this morning, and Kíli struggled to control his pony, Basil. Thankfully, it was a distraction from how tired he felt, and he put all his focus into keeping her on track. Fíli's pony was much more well-behaved, a fact that left Kíli rather irritated.

Eventually as the day wore on, Basil settled, and Kíli did not have much to do but keep moving east. The effort of staying awake was becoming what seemed to be the biggest challenge Kíli had ever faced; several times, he almost nodded off, only awakening to the dropping of his head. Still he carried on, determined to keep going at least until lunch.

The trees and grass ahead of him seemed fuzzy, even though the morning fog had been burned away. Faintly, Kíli could hear the trickle of water, and he furrowed his brow. What body of water was that?

Eventually the unseen water came into view—another river. A cold chill went through Kíli at the thought of crossing what was likely a bridgeless waterway, but he swallowed down his fear and looked back at Fíli.

"We're going to have to cross this river," he called back to Fíli.

"How?" Fíli called back.

Kíli narrowed his eyes, attempting to see it more clearly, but it only became fuzzier in his view. He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, and then tried again. To his left, higher up in the hills, the woods seemed welcoming. Nice and dark…

"Let's see if there's a crossing further north," he said. "Maybe there's a fallen tree we can push across the water."

He pushed his pony on, eager to reach the shade of the trees. The day was hot, now that the mist had gone, and the sun was shining directly in his eyes, further fouling his already foul mood. Once he turned away from the sunlight, his shoulders relaxed, and he took a moment to close his eyes.

The next thing he knew was the horrifying sensation of falling, and then he hit the ground.

He landed on his side, and immediately the world went white as pain swept through his body. He opened his mouth to shout, but the impact with the ground had knocked all the wind out of his lungs, and he could only wheeze painfully. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, grabbing onto his side with both hands and curling into a ball; suddenly, another pair of hands latched onto him and began to pull him up.

"Get up!" Fíli growled. "Get up, you idiot!"

"Fee—Fíli—" Kíli croaked.

"You stupid—clumsy—ugh," Fíli said. "You couldn't just let me keep watch, could you? No, you thought you could stay awake the entire trip! You're a special kind of idiot, you know."

Kíli wanted to defend himself, but he could not think of any retort that had any truth in it. Furthermore, in the midst of pain and exhaustion, his mind simply refused to work.

"What's wrong with your side, anyway?" Fíli said.

"N-nothing!" Kíli said quickly. "Nothing, it's just—"

"Clearly it's something," Fíli said. "I'm not stupid."

Kíli ripped himself away from his brother, breathing hard.

"Nothing is wrong!" he said. "I'm fine! Look. See? Absolutely fine." He stumbled towards his pony and leaned against it, panting.

"But you're not fine," Fíli argued. "Look at you. You need to sleep."

"What do you care?" Kíli snapped.

Fíli stopped and stared at him, his face fraught with confusion.

"I don't," he said.

Kíli looked after Fíli plaintively as he hopped back onto his own pony, avoiding Kíli's gaze; with great effort, he pulled himself back up onto his own pony and carried on.

Kíli managed to make it through the rest of the day without another incident, though by his own count, he must have nodded off at least a dozen times, if not more. They found a river crossing in the woods, as Kíli had predicted, and crossed without incident. They stopped a couple times to eat and then carried on wordlessly, each avoiding eye contact with the other; the silence between them had become strained and awkward, as though they both expected the other to speak, but neither was willing. Something had changed, and while it was uncomfortable, Kíli only hoped that it was a good sign.

They made camp for the night at the base of a large hill near the eastern edge. They were getting close. By tomorrow, if Kíli had the distances right, they should be able to reach the Brandywine. Kíli plopped down on the ground with a great yawn.

"I'll keep watch tonight," Fíli said.

"No," Kíli said.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" said Fíli incredulously. "Look, if we are going to make it to the Old Forest, you need to be conscious. I'm not getting dragged down by you because you want to be an idiot."

"I can't… I can't…" Kíli started, but he could not bring himself to say the words. I can't trust you.

Fíli rolled his eyes. "I promise I won't kill you or run off," he said. "Does that make you feel better?"

"Not particularly," Kíli said. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"What choice do you have?' said Fíli. "Do you really think you can stay awake for another night?"

"No," said Kíli sheepishly. He was already unstable; he desperately needed to sleep. But the fear of losing Fíli when they had gotten so far made him more distraught than the idea of being vastly overtired, and he could be stubborn if he wanted to be.

"Go to sleep," Fíli said, pushing Kíli down to the ground.

Kíli couldn't argue anymore. He was too tired. He laid his head on the soft moss and closed his eyes, and almost immediately, the world fell away to darkness and dreams.

Shnnk.

Kíli jumped up at the sound of his sword leaving his sheath and looked about wildly for the source of the sound. His blood ran cold as he beheld Fíli holding his sword.

"Fíli—Fíli, no—"

"Shut up," Fíli hissed.

"Fíli, please—"

"I'm not going to kill you," said Fíli in a harsh whisper. "I saw something in the trees. Would you rather I let it come closer without attempting to defend us?"

Though his heart pounded wildly, Kíli shook off his fright and reached for his bow. The sky was still dark; he wondered how long he had slept. He hoped it had been at least a few hours. He scanned their surroundings for signs of movement, and sure enough, there were several figures moving through the woods. They were hunched over and walked erratically, and their arms hung low to the ground. One had a bow on his back, and the others clearly held swords. As they came closer, Kíli recognized the unpleasant guttural sound of their speech, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Orcs.

"Have they spotted us?" Kíli said.

"I don't know, but keep on your guard," Fíli said. "Get an arrow ready."

Kíli nodded and nocked an arrow into his bow. He aimed it carefully at the passing orcs, hoping that they would leave them alone and continue on their way. He hated to let such filth pass by unscathed, but he would rather not get in a fight with what appeared to be at least six orcs when there were only two of them, one overtired and the other mentally compromised.

"The ponies," Fíli said. "They're going for the ponies!"

Kíli's eyes widened as he watched the orcs get closer and closer to where they had tied the ponies a little ways away. He wished they had brought them closer, but there was no grass where they had started the fire, and now they were paying dearly for it.

"Shoot the one with the bow!" Fíli whispered.

Kíli aimed, but hesitated.

"Shoot it before it sees us!" Fíli said urgently. The orc with the bow straightened and faced their way, and Kíli let his arrow fly. It struck true, piercing the foul creature through the chest, and the orc screamed and fell to the ground.

Immediately the other orcs began to bellow angrily in their dark language, searching for the perpetrator, and Fíli backed behind a tree. Kíli quickly shot another, and they began to shriek; one of the orcs rushed forward and untied the ponies. They began to whinny in fear and pull away, but the orc had them fast. Kíli aimed, but he was afraid of hitting his own steed, and he lowered his bow.

"We have to charge them before they get away," Kíli said to Fíli.

"So be it," Fíli said roughly. Without a moment's hesitation, he charged forward with a shout; Kíli hung back for a moment to find Fíli's long knife. He picked it up, stood up, and quickly assessed the fray.

The orcs barely knew what had hit them before they were under attack. Fíli cut one down within moments, and the orc holding the reins of their ponies let go and went after him next. Kíli charged at him with a mighty roar and stabbed him through; he gave a squeal and fell to the ground, and Kíli reclaimed the knife and turned about.

The remaining two orcs had turned their attention to him, outrage distorting their already distorted faces. Kíli reached back for his sword; panic seized him as he realized that it was in Fíli's hands, not on his back, and he took a step backward, holding the knife at the ready against the two orcs, both armed with long curved blades. They looked at each other and then at him, laughing with hissing, guttural noises. One said something to the other in their own language, and then they both charged.

Kíli managed to deflect the blows of the faster one relatively easily, but when the second one joined, he found himself in quite a sticky situation. Deftly he dove to one side as the faster orc swung, and he stabbed forward. The orc he had aimed for jumped backward with a laugh, and the other charged at him again. He ducked just in time, but his move cost him his footing, and he stumbled to the ground, dropping his knife.

"Fíli!" he cried.

Within a moment, Fíli was there, and in another moment, the orc standing over him no longer had a head. He turned his attention to the second orc, deflecting the blow of the creature's sword with a mighty swing. The orc cursed at the blond harshly and spat at his feet, and then the creature dove forward, shouting with rage. With a move that Kíli recognized from years of training, Fíli disarmed him and then charged; however, the orc was not giving up yet. He leapt backward with a howl and Fíli missed. With a Khuzdul curse, Fíli dove at the foul creature again, and this time, his blow struck; the orc screamed as Fíli hacked into his side, and then he pulled back and ran him through.

Suddenly the woods were silent once again. Kíli rose to his feet and stared at his brother in utter shock.

"You saved me," he said simply.

"Aye," said Fíli, panting. "I did."

"You… you risked your life… to save me," Kíli said. "Why did you save me?"

Fíli's face scrunched as if he were in pain; he looked at the dead orcs surrounding him as if noticing them for the first time. Slowly, his gaze returned to meet his brother's eyes.

"I… I don't know," he said.

Kíli felt a strange, warm, twisting feeling in the center of his gut. Fíli had saved him. Somewhere, deep down in there, Fíli was coming back, little by little. He had seen it building before, but this was proof. Fíli could come back. Fíli would come back.

Then he saw it.

"Fíli," he said tightly, his body involuntarily jerking towards his brother.

"What?" said Fíli, his face still contorted in confusion.

"It's all right, Fee," he said, though his voice shook horribly. "Don't look. Just don't look down, okay?"

"Why, what are you…" Fíli said, trailing off as he did exactly what his brother had told him not to do; even in the darkness of night, Kíli could see his face drain of all color.

"Oh," Fíli said weakly. He dropped the sword in his hand, and Kíli could see that he had started to tremble. Kíli blinked rapidly, his mind racing faster than he could keep up.

"It'll be all right," Kíli repeated. "Don't touch it. It'll be all right."

Fíli squeezed his eyes shut and stood stock still, and for a moment, Kíli did the same.

Maybe, somehow, if he just willed it, the knife now stuck in his brother's abdomen would simply disappear.