Author's Note: Today is Friday, and also another one of my little brothers' birthdays! (There are seven of us, so some of our birthdays do fall close together) Anyway, so happy birthday to him! 8 years old. And here's Kili's Point of View! More angst for everybody! 8D And maybe a hint as to what Bilbo's up to...?

Disclaimer: I love them but I don't own them.

Wish to Live

Kili gasped for air, almost choking himself on the amounts he was gulping in. Oxygen. Oxygen was good. When he was young and broke a bone, Balin always told him to breathe. It dulled the pain. Supposedly. Didn't seem to be doing much good now.

Two dislocated shoulders, his whole weight hanging on them. His ribs, sternum, and collarbone felt as if they were nearly being pulled away from each other, stretching his lungs and making it both strenuous and painful to breathe at all. He struggled against the panic rising in him at his seeming inability to draw an adequate breath, though it wasn't for lack of trying. Kili forced himself not to speed up and shallow out, concentrating on keeping them as deep and efficient as was possible under the circumstances.

His feet dangled above the floor, his arms chained and roped to a network of cruel pulleys and levers. There was no rest from the pressure. And every time he refused to comply, a few turns on the cranks would increase it to an impossible new level.

The King was giving him a moment to collect himself; he knew how not to drive a patient to insanity, blast him. But Kili was grateful for the brief respite. He stared at the ground, trying to focus himself…what was that? Someone was creeping up behind him, he could feel it.

He tensed, waiting for more pain…

"Hold on, just a minute longer and we'll have you out."

Kili resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. It...it couldn't be, but that...that whisper sounded like Bilbo. The burglar to the rescue. Kili nodded, and held his breath. An easy enough job, considering the difficulty in breathing in the first place. The footsteps retreated, and a goblin neared Kili again.

"Talking to yourself over here, are we?"

Kili glared at him, and didn't answer. The goblin tested the ropes and Kili grit his teeth as his shoulders shifted, sending bolts of pain flashing through him. He felt the overpowering urge to be sick.

"I reckon he's about ready for the next go, Your Malevolence," the underling reported. The King turned back to Kili from where he'd been talking with a few other goblins and grinned.

"Well then! Are we ready to- what's that?"

The cavern fell silent, listening. A strange, buzzing noise could be heard, punctuated occasionally by a dull snap. Kili kept his head down, but his whole body was tense with expectation.

"There, Your Malevolence!" a little creature shouted, pointing a gnarled little finger at one of the main support lines holding up the platform. It seemed to be fraying of it's own accord, several of the fibers had already parted in a clean-cut line.

"Hmm," said the Great Goblin, squinting at it with great interest as the rope continued to fray, "That's hardly natural, is it?" He glanced threateningly toward Kili, as if warning him that if he had anything to do with this he'd pay for it. Suddenly, the rope gave way completely, leaving the portion of the platform on which the grossly overweight King stood now unsupported.

The platform shook and creaking under his weight, and several cracks rent the wood with an ominous sound. The King looked in consternation at Kili.

"Oh dear," he said, and a good third of the platform splintered off, carrying the King with it. The other goblins cowered in fear, trying to catch a glimpse of the unseen force that was causing such disruption.

A harsh voice screamed, "Dwarves escaped! The cell's empty!"

That sent the cavern into confusion. Another support line began to fray, and the remaining goblins panicked, and scampered off the suspended platform to the relative safety of the walkways mounted on the walls.

Kili was growing distressed. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening, and if the platform fell with him tied to it as he was, down into the depths of Goblin Town's chasm, in all probability he wouldn't live. He tried to strain against his torturing bonds, but pain ripped through his body and he cried out.

A large, clammy hand gripped Kili's wrist roughly and sliced the rope that bound it, leaving Kili hanging by one dislocated arm instead of both. His weight jerked against it and he muffled a full-blown scream through clenched teeth, even as he shuddered from the contact of the goblin. I

It was tall; much taller than most. It moved to the front of him now, an evil, distrustful light in it's eyes, and cut down his other wrist, before jerking both behind him and holding them there as they roughly retied them. Kili stayed stubbornly silent, though one or two rebellious tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes and streaked down his face, and his chest shuddered with soundless sobs.

"Your friends are getting away," the goblin told him in a breathy hiss, "But you won't. They left you here. With us. They don't care about you."

"Shut up," Kili snarled.

The goblin hit him.

"Listen to me. You won't get away. I'll make sure you don't. You're going to die, dwarf trash. Die. Are you afraid? Snaga! Come here!" The goblin barked to one apparently under it's command. The one called Snaga stepped gingerly onto the platform and, seeing it bore his weight, walked confidently out to the center to his master.

"Hold the dwarf while I take his head," the taller one commanded. Snaga nodded, grinning with pleasure, as he took Kili's wrists, bound behind his back, and lifted them upward, forcing Kili to bend over at the waste.

Oh. Pain. Again.

It took his breath away this time; he couldn't cry out. The tall one stalked to his side, and Kili watched out of the corner of his eye as the blade in it's belt, just at Kili's eye-level, was slowly drawn.

He felt the rough, rust-bitten edge pressed lightly against the back of his neck, and was again reminded of his shame. His hair. He was going to die like this? What would Fili think of him? Fili would understand, he knew. But Thorin would be ashamed of him. As rightly he should.

Kili closed his eyes, taking in everything he could. The sounds of goblins running to and fro throughout Goblin Town, calling to each other and trying to organize a search and pursuit to locate the escaping dwarves. One of them screamed something about a scuffle at the gate, and activity was renewed.

No one had time to stare and laugh at him anymore. That was a pity. They were going to miss the best part. He grit his teeth as he was forced to bend over more, and the sword was raised above his neck.

He would die bravely. Yes, he could do that. But Kili very dearly wished to live.

Author's Note: The word "snaga" is actually the word for slave. I am aware of that, but I liked it for a name for one of the goblins, and really, they're such unpleasant creatures I'm sure it's not terribly far-fetched they would name one of their own such a mean term. :P Also...mean cliff-hanger, huh? I just realized how close we are to the end! Only two more chapters after this, folks!