This is quite a flimsy chapter, meaning a few moments to sum up what's going to happen in the next chapter.

As the others had slept, I had joined Bilbo and Gandalf on the balcony.

The sky was dotted with stars, and it was one of the most star filled nights that I had seen during out stay in Erebor. Most nights I would peek out into the sky and rub my arms to get away from the chill, but something about tonight just seemed brighter. Perhaps it was our hope that made everything seem a little better.

'Are you sure that this rope will hold me, Gandalf? inquired the antsy Hobbit, taking the length of the light, thin rope that Gandalf had handed him from his robes. He spoke quietly, as not to wake the ones who slept. Gandalf was the one who was supposed to be on watch, but had woken Bilbo and then me from our already light slumbers.

'It is Elvish rope, my dear Hobbit. Very strong,' assured Gandalf, watching as Bilbo tightened the rope around his waist. After a second, I helped him, making sure that the rope was tight enough. The idea of a squished Bilbo Baggins at the bottom of the Mountain wasn't exactly something that we wanted. 'Do you have the Arkenstone?' whispered Gandalf, dipping his hatted head.

Bilbo looked up at him, arms stiff at his sides. 'Yes'.

Gandalf straightened up to his full height. 'Then you are ready, Bilbo. Come, we must tie the rope atop the wall'. Bilbo stood back as Gandalf and I did just this, wringing his hands and glancing into the archway. The campfire cast shadows against the walls, keeping both myself and Bilbo on edge.

'Remember to give it to Bard or Thranduil and tell them why you're giving it to them, yeah?' I said to them Hobbit, facing him with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. 'Make sure they know that you're doing it for the right reasons, and not for gold or anything like that. They'll be all about honor, and if they think you're insulting theirs or something-'

Gandalf gave a gruff sound of agreement. 'Alexandria is right, of course. Bard and Thranduil will take offense if you insinuate that you are giving the Arkenstone to them as if they are thieves'.

'No,' grumbled Bilbo. 'That would be me'.

Gandalf had smiled gently and laid a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. 'You mustn't fret, my friend. Thorin does not know that you have the Arkenstone, and it is only when Bard presents it to him on the morrow that he will wonder how Bard came by it. It is then, my dear Hobbit, that you must decide whether to tell the truth'.

'Thorin will hate me'.

'Thorin will be blinded by his greed,' countered Gandalf. 'But what comes after that, we do not know'.

'You're no help,' I muttered, and Bilbo shuffled in agreement. We got him ready to climb over the wall, then. As Gandalf helped Bilbo over the rock, I looked out onto the campsite, watching the glittering campfires and the dark outlines of tents and such. They were near the river, and I knew that Bilbo would have to walk out over the space between us and them.

'Good luck, Bilbo,' I told him.

And then, with the help of Gandalf, Bilbo scuttled down the side of the Mountain, held up by the rope and his hard, large feet scraping against the rock. When the rope, finally, went loose, Gandalf sighed and pressed an old hand to the wall, not seeing whether the Hobbit was already running toward the Elves and Men's camp. It had been too dark.

'You should sleep, Alexandria,' he said, lowering his head to look at me. 'You have been a great help and have proved yourself ten times over. You need rest. The Battle, I believe, is closer than we may think'.

I wish I had known how close.

I woke up to Kili's lip pressing against mine in a soft, warm manner. He tasted sweet, so I could only guess that breakfast had already been served. His breath had ghosted against my face in a laugh when my stomach grumbled - loudly.

'Dain's army is serving food in the Hall,' he said, resting back onto his knees as I shuffled into a sitting up position, blinking and yawning and stretching. Dain's army had taken refuge in the great Hall in front of the Front Gate, whereas we slept near the great balcony, as we always had. We were, apparently, as good as Royalty to the newer Dwarves now.

Well, some more than others.

'Where's Bilbo?' I rasped, fighting around another yawn. The question had popped out of my mouth before I could even consider than Kili would not have any idea what I was talking about.

'Bilbo? Dwalin is showing him some swordplay, much like what he showed you. Why do you want to know?'

'O-oh,' I stuttered, trying to think of a good enough excuse. 'I was just...wondering. I had a dream that he...died'.

Why?

Kili cocked a dark brow. 'That sounds...grim, Millie. Are you feeling alright?' I thought about telling him, honestly. I really did consider telling him what I had helped Bilbo do the night before, but decided against it. He was Thorin's nephew, his Heir. He would have felt obliged to tell Thorin what had happened to the Arkenstone. I knew that he would have.

'I'm swanky. Don't worry about me'.

Kili stood and hefted me to my feet, smiling. He was always happy now, always engaging in conversation with me and running a finger over the ring on my hand. I'd both liked and disliked this behavior, because I knew that he was making up for lost time, and time that we may never have again.

Kili placed a quick hand on my shoulder when I started for the stairs, a peculiar look on his face. 'No. You stay here. I'll bring you up your breakfast. They're making bacon and eggs, will that be good?'

I had narrowed my eyed at him and tilted my head. 'Why can't I go down there? I want to meet some of Dain's Dwarves, Kili-'

'But you should stay up here,' insisted Kili, sliding back in front of me. 'Where it's quiet and peaceful and you can stay far, far away from all of those Dwarves, Millie. Far. Away-'

'Are you paranoid that I'm going to get swept off of my feet by some burly Dwarf?'

'No. I don't know what that means'.

'Oh God, you are. You're jealous and I haven't even spoken to any of them!' I curled my hands around his cheeks, making sure that he could feel the ring. 'Kili. I'm not hairy. I'm not sturdy. I'm the least attractive female Dwarf there is-'

'You're not,' stated Kili roughly, catching one of the hands that resting on his cheek.

'-And,' I carried on pointedly. 'I'm betrothed to you. They'll know that by now, won't they? You're a Prince - they're not gonna go and throw some moves on your woman, right?'

'You'll probably scare them away if you even talk to them,' said Kili, a grin stretching across his face. I had given him a light tap on the cheek, which had only fed his mirth. 'You're right. Come on then'.

I hadn't known whether to be offended or not.

The Hall had been filled with Dwarves, and the sight had made me so happy. Erebor looked alive, even if the Dwarves were getting ready for Battle. They'd milled about, disappeared through the doors, smashed at armour, started fires, cooked meat, sharpened swords and axes. I had never seen so many Dwarves, and to really see how they lived.

It had been fantastic.

Kili still stuck close to my side, all lingering hands and puffing out of his chest. But, of course, people respected him. He was a Prince, a member of the Line of Durin. It was weird, to see how the hairy, bearded Dwarven men would bow their heads at him and then bow them even lower to me. I think that Dwarven women were respected and admired, above all else.

No one had even commented on my lack of beard, you know.

So, you know, it hadn't been half as bad as I thought it would be.

We found Bombur and Bofur near the food. There'd been quite a lot of dried meats that Dain's army had brought with them, as well as rice and leaves. Kili found me a dried pork, to which I'd nibbled on, and Bofur just gave my ring a lingering look.

Then turned to me with what I can only call a saucy smile.

'Alright, lass?'

I'd turned away from him with a snort and wave of my hand, biting into the tough meat and taking in the filled hall, the loud chatter, the liveliness of it all. Thorin was off with Dain somewhere, and Bilbo, I could see, was with Dwalin, while Gandalf hung around the sides. Dain and Thorin spoke of the Battle, of course.

The Battle.

I swallowed the last of my meat and listened as Kili spoke animatedly with Bofur and Bombur, inquiring into what the Iron Hill Dwarves had brought with them, as well as discussing what Thorin had decided already. 'We fight with the Elves and the Men,' Bofur had confirmed, nodding his head slightly. 'Aye'. He'd looked scared, worried. Startled.

We hadn't anticipated a Battle. Only a dragon.

But the chatter was cut short, the happiness of the Dwarves at being home. A loud voice cut through the air, and I vaguely remember it belonging to Dain. The Dwarf's voice carried like an echo, loud and constant until finally, it died.

'The Orc Army will arrive to our Mountain tomorrow!'

After that, everything has fallen apart.

I lost Kili after that. I lost all of them, really. Kili went to find his Uncle and his brother, while Bombur took me back up to the balcony where Ori was, and left me there. Ori had said that he'd lost his brothers earlier, and hadn't wanted to mix with the other Dwarves, now that he knew the Battle was afoot. He said he much preferred to just think.

'Ori,' I started, scooting closer to him. He sat near the dwindling fire, gloved hands fingering a knife. 'Ori, you can write in Khuzdul, can't you?'

Ori, with his innocent face and smile that I will always remember, nodded. 'Of course, Millie. Is there something that you wanted me to write?' There was, of course. I told him that I was inexperienced in battle, chuckling away his polite protests with a chuckle. I told him that I wanted to write a letter to someone, but I couldn't write in Khuzdul and, considering that he was so talented with writing, would he please write it for me?

Ori, being Ori, said yes.

I thought for a moment of what I wanted the letter to say. Then, after a pause in which my stomach knotted and I thought of tomorrow, I thought of killing, I started speaking,

'Can you write this, please?' I coughed when he nodded, waiting with the quill in hand. '...Kili, if you're reading this letter, then you have either stumbled upon it in some annoying, unexpected series of events, or Ori has given it to you because I have...' I swallowed, I blinked. 'I have died'. Ori stopped writing on the stained parchment, a look of mingled horror and dawning on his features. Regardless, I carried on, 'I'm getting him to write it out in Dwarfish now, though he's currently looking at me with a very sour expression on his face. There we go, got him to smile-'

And so this carried on for another half an hour.

You may be wondering why I had such little faith in my own survival, but it wasn't that. It was just...the idea of never being able to say goodbye to Kili wouldn't be fair on either of us, and I couldn't just leave it. I could tell him what I wanted my last words to be in that letter.

Because, coming the next day, I might not have time for last words.

Because...you can't imagine how scared I had been. One minute we knew there was going to be a great Battle, then the next it would the following day. And everything - everything - was crumbling apart. Thorin, the Company, the feud with the Elves and Men - I just wanted peace, I wanted calm, I wanted life. Death scared me.

Death was there, waiting for me. For so many.

But I couldn't die.

I refused.

And I refused to let any of them die either, but how could I stop it? It would be like catching smoke with your bare hands.

Where have I heard that before?

Kili sat close to me that night. The Hall wasn't quiet, nor was the rest of Erebor. Still, the Company - our Company - huddled upon that space near the balcony, near the fire, and spoke. We listened to Gandalf, we listened to Thorin give words of encouragement, we watched him grasp his nephews shoulders and praise Bilbo Baggins - but not for long. Not when he knew what he'd done.

I didn't think that I would laugh, but I did. Sad, regretful laughter as I thought of my mother, my father, my cousins, my uncles, aunts, every face that I had passed in the streets, both at home and in Middle Earth. Because, tomorrow, those memories could die with me.

'I need to talk to you,' I told Kili, a whispered confession in the midst of chatter and of firelight. I would bring him back, I knew that I would not deny him of time with his family, his friends - but right now, I needed him and just him.

'Aye,' murmured Kili, close to my ear. 'I know'.

We stood without a word and Kili nodded to his Uncle, and they watched us go with sad, pitiful eyes. The betrothed who might never marry, they were thinking. And I hated it. We were confident in winning, in defeating the army of Orcs - we had Men, Elves and Dwarves on our side. But I knew, from stories, that Orcs bred like bloody rabbits.

There would be a lot of them too.

I think Kili took me further than even he thought he would that night. We stayed on the higher floors, skirting around the walls at the top of the Hall and looking down at the milling Iron Hill Dwarves. Sparks flew and hot, iron rods prodded at armour and swords and axes and...and so many other things that would help us.

The room that we had stumbled upon held no clue as to what it once might have been. It had tall ceilings and walls, all stone with carvings and a fire place. Other than that, it had been bare. Just a stone block of a room with a cracked stone door that Kili had pushed open with one hand flat against the stone. We were so far from the others that you could hardly hear the hundreds of Dwarves, a floor below us.

I wondered if we could just stay here.

Kili pulled the door shut behind him, and rock and stone had scraped against each other. For a moment, just a moment, he had stood there, back to me and shoulders stiff. I wondered what his face looked like, as I stood behind him while worrying my bottom lip with my teeth.

'What did you want, Millie?' he asked, a sigh and question, though not an unkind one.

You, I thought. You. Just for one more day. Please.

And that thought turned into a word, blurted from my mouth without any grace or subtly. 'I just...you. Kili, you - I don't-' I cut myself off with an uneasy hand clapping over my mouth. I rubbed my face and blinked, hard.

Kili turned, then. His face was drawn and, finally, I saw the worry that he would not show in front of his brother or Thorin. He saved it for me and only me, because I would not worry about his moment of weakness. I knew that he needed it.

I don't really remember going forward to kiss him, but I know that it was different from the others. And that sounds stupidly cliche, I know. But it had - it had tasted of impatience and worry and need. I clutched at the side of his face, not daring to go soft on this kiss. No, every ounce of what could be missed in the years to come was in that kiss.

And Kili had hated it.

'Millie,' he ground out, holding my face and breathing hard against my mouth. 'You're trying to say goodbye'.

'Better to be safe than sorry,' I replied, but my pathetic excuse for a smile was wiped away at Kili's tight jaw and unhappy look. 'Kili please. Don't be noble now - don't try and reassure me or get grumpy at me. I don't want this to be our last night before-' I broke off, shook my head and pressed my lips firmly against his. 'Not tonight,' I breathed. 'Not tonight, please'.

He complied with tender kiss and rough, hardened Dwarven hands in my hair and against my waist. It was when I pulled away to yank off my heavy coat that he blanched. His blush actually managed to make me laugh, believe it or not. 'Millie-'

'Don't have an asthma attack, Kee-Kee. I just...' I shrugged off the jacket, centimeters away from his warmth. 'I just really want to be close to you. We've never been able to really touch each other, Kili. Stop blushing!' I laughed, and it echoed around the stone, square room.

I think, perhaps, that he'd just wanted to please me that night, because he'd allowed me to shrug off the jacket, kick off my boots and throw Snowthorn onto the floor. I felt feminine without all of the bulky clothes and ever so slightly dangerous weapon. Kili's equally thick, leather coat joined mine on the floor and finally I really felt him against me. All arms and chest, even though it was through cotton and leather.

'I love you,' he said, mouth against my jaw. 'Menu zirup men,' he breathed into my neck. 'Menu tessu,' he told me, and I swallowed the words with my mouth, tasting and knowing and grabbing at every part of him. I could feel things against me - him and his desire.

I allowed him to touch every part of me that he wanted, dragging his hands up and down and shivering as his thumb slipped over sensitive areas. 'Menu tessu,'
he repeated, mouth against my collarbone as he bent his head there.

'What are you saying?' I murmured into his tangled hair, clutching at his shoulder and sighing, eyes closed.

'Everything. You are everything'.

Kili,

If you're reading this letter, then you have either stumbled upon it in some annoying, unexpected series of events, or Ori has given it to you because I have died. I'm getting him to write it out in Dwarfish now, though he's currently looking at me with a very sour expression on his face. There we go, got him to smile.

He's promised that he will keep this letter safe, and only give it to you if I do not survive the Battle tomorrow. Honestly and obviously, I hope that I do. You keep telling me that I will, but Kili, if I do not then please do not mourn me too much. I am alive right now, and I am telling you to mourn me, yes, but to live as well. Do not spend so long living in guilt, as I know you will. If I die, I die.

I'm not exactly going to be happy about that fact, of course.

I love you, Kili. If you have ever doubted my love for you, then you're a moron. Where I come from, story book romances aren't exactly common. That's why I cannot believe that I managed to find you. You know what I mean when I say that you and I, we're from different worlds, my darling.

Ori's doing quite well at this scribe thing. He's writing everything I say down. Or I think he is. I wish that I could have learnt Dwarfish. I'm awful at learning new languages, but I would have enjoyed learning it, I think.

Being overly romantic has never really been our thing, so I won't call you 'my sun and stars' or anything like that. I suppose I shall tell you that I am yours in every way, and I died being yours and I died loving you more than anything. Because when I look at you, my Kili, I don't miss home so much anymore. I just wanted you to know that, because I guess that's my awfully, sickeningly romantic way of telling you that you're kind of like home to me.

I'm getting all sad now, just because there are so many things that we haven't done. I won't state too many, because I don't want to make Ori blush. Too late.

I wanted to have children with you, Kili. I wanted to see Erebor in all its glory, I wanted to taste new foods and hold your hand through it all. You are the love of my life, and I am sorry that I have left you.

I hope I died for something worthwhile. I hope that it is enough for me to be forgiven for the things that I have done. I hope you live, for the both of us. Tell everyone that I love them, I'm sure they'll just love that. Tell Dwalin that he was a good teacher, and tell Thorin that he is a good King. Tell Fili that he will rule well one day. And to you, I say thank you. I cannot fathom into words how much I need to thank you.

I don't know what else to say.

Thank you, Kili. Thank you for putting up with me, for accepting me and for loving me the way that you did. Thank you for forgiving me and making me a stronger and a better person.

All my of love,

Alexandria Millicent Fournier.

Your Millie.

Before any of you perverts ask, they didn't have sex. Now you can blush and giggle because I know some of you were thinking that. They just got intimate, is all.

That letter, by the way, has been written for a few months. I always knew that Millie was going to leave Kili a 'just in case' letter, so I always knew how it was going to happen. I also already have the Battle written out, in case you were wondering.

I'm so sorry for the lack in updates! This chapter was so hard to get out, but after some lovely messages to my Tumblr (kiliyousosilly), I managed to get rid of of that writers block for this story. Which reminds me, hey, I have a Star Trek fanfiction! Chekov/OC, because apparently I like the cute cupcakes of the film.

I really hope this chapter was okay. Kinda angsty, but it's to be expected. The stuff with the Arkenstone will erupt next chapter, so get your tissues for poor baby Bilbo and 'stfu thorin' Gandalf.

Thank you for the reviews guys!