Note from the Author: Yayyyy, Friday is here again! *does a mad happy-dance* Anyway, it occurred to me that I haven't given credit to those whom it is due. Very special thanks to my wonderful friend WaterSnail who did the cover art for this story; the entire scene is beautiful but the site cropped it down. :-( Just picture off to the side, off-screen, a very pleased-looking Fili watching with a little grin. :D Also, some of the Great Goblin's dialogue in chapter one is due to my awesome teenaged brother, who brainstorms with me and generally puts up with my geekiness like a good sport. :D Anyway, so here's chapter three! Please comment!

Disclaimer: Would you believe it, I STILL don't own these guys. Darn.

Like Salt in One's Wounds

Fili shook with anger. He was pacing again. Perhaps thirty minutes ago, Kili had been taken for a second audience with the Great Goblin. He'd gone without resisting, but he did have a few cocky remarks for his guards as they took him away, prodding his wounded back whenever they could. Fili wished he would watch his mouth a little more, but he felt a stab of pride nonetheless.

He stopped short, head cocked, listening intently. Goblin noises were drawing near the cell, and mixed in were sounds from much dearer lips. Grunts, and now and then a little cry. The same four goblins as before came into view, shoving Kili along. He was fully awake, in fact he was fighting them, jerking away and trying to avoid the touch of their slimy, groping hands on his skin. He was completely shirtless now, but aside from a number of new lashes crossing his back, Fili could see no new wounds. That, and the fact that he had been gone for so short a time...Fili shoved his uneasy thoughts aside, angry with himself for even thinking that his Kili might have betrayed them.

The door was opened and with a vicious shove Kili was thrown in, onto his knees. He screamed; a terrible sound of mixed anguish, fury, and frustration. It was cut short by a brutal kick to his back that sent him sprawling on his face, where his shoulders began to shake, silently, either in a shudder or sobs, Fili couldn't tell. The goblins laughed, but instead of retreating, they sat down on the ground outside the cell and watched, as if waiting for something. There was definitely something different this time, and as Fili again came to his brother's side, he felt a sense of foreboding. It wasn't right.

And when Thorin came over to look at Kili's wounds, he found out what it was.

Thorin gently reached out to touch the brave lad. Kili trembled under his hand, and Thorin withdrew, unwilling to cause his nephew further distress. But where he had touched the bleeding gashes, a fine grit now clung to his hand. He ground his teeth.

"Salt," he said. He turned to Balin and Oin. "Salt," he said, again. His voice was quiet so that Kili could not hear him, but growling with menace. Oin's face darkened, and Balin looked sorrowful.

"That's why they weren't gone long. They wanted him to be with us for this part. I expect that's why they're here, as well." Balin gestured to the watching goblins. "Waiting for the show to start."

Thorin turned back to his nephews, kneeling on the floor by them. Fili hadn't yet tried to move his brother; Kili hadn't expressed any desire to go anywhere.

"Uncle," Kili greeted him. In the torchlight Thorin saw the gleam of tear tracks on the young dwarf's face, though he was not weeping now. "I said nothing, I swear. But you were right. They have more than whips." He shuddered. "They made me drink something. Something foul, they said it would keep me awake so I wouldn't go unconscious again."

Balin and Oin exchanged grim looks, but Kili didn't notice. He was focused on his brother and his Uncle.

"And then they whipped me again...but the salt. It was far worse than anything yet."

Fili started.

"Salt? Oh, Kili. Salt? Somebody, the water! Get the water quickly; we'll wash it out of his wounds."

Ori jumped to his feet and started toward the bucket of drinking water in the corner, eager to ease Kili's suffering, but Oin beat him to it. With a kick he sent the bucket onto it's side, water quickly spreading over the floor of the cell. Ori yelped in shock and stared unbelievingly at the healer.

"Now what in Durin's name did you do that for?!" Bofur asked, standing.

"That water is foul; wash his wounds with it and you sentence him to death by infection and poisoning. No. It's better this way; we won't be able to drink it and we won't be tempted to use it when things get worse in a few minutes."

Fili and Thorin helped Kili over to the back wall of the cell, where Fili sat down with his back to the rock for support while he held Kili. His little brother leaned into him gratefully, as much for the comfort of his presence as to rest. The move across the cell had occupied his concentration, but he caught Oin's last words. He looked pleadingly at Thorin, as if asking for some reassurance.

"Uncle...?"

Thorin's heart clenched when he saw the fear in his nephew's eyes. Both of his nephews. But he sighed and his face remained regretful, but solid.

"Yes, boys. It's going to get worse. Very soon. The salt will seep into the wounds until it is gone into your bloodstream. Once it is dissipated, the pain will lessen. But before that happens, it will be very hard."

Author's Note: Yeah...fixing to get bad. :'( Reviews are treats for the author's soul!