A/N

I've jumped forward in the story a bit, otherwise there'd be a whole lot of walking and camping and this story would take a long time. I hope you don't mind.


Kili had lost track of the days, they had blurred together in a muddle of forests and rocky peaks. It had got very cold, that he knew, for he was suddenly feeling unwell – not that he'd let the orcs see, of course. It had rained too, not the heavy, relentless rain that soaked him to the bone, but the sharp, light rain that felt like hundreds of tiny shards of ice. For a moment the bitter cold had numbed him against the pain in his limbs. They had lashed him again after an act of defiance angered Gurlak – the ugly orc had tried to force-feed him raw meet again, rabbit this time (not that it tasted like rabbit, more like blood and ash,) which Kili spat out all over Gurlak's face. The bloody and half chewed meat dripping down onto his chest. Kili had glared at the one-eyed orc, as his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared in anger, with a slight smirk on his face. Even after the back of Gurlak's hand connected with Kili's cheek, he still kept the grin. Which only angered the orc further. Gurlak had looked over towards Azog who had been watching from across their new camp - situated now beside a rocky cliff - and the pale orc nodded once. Kili had quickly found himself being dragged and thrown to his knees. Like before, his arms were elevated at his sides and two orcs held him firmly. This time, however, Azog merely watched, with one ankle resting upon the opposite knee and an amused grin spreading across his lips. It was Gurlak who brought down the lash this time, the anger could be felt in the ferocity of the strokes. It had been some days since he had been whipped last and the wounds on his back were slowly beginning to start healing, but the moment the first lash came down, a shrill cry of pain echoing off the cliff, the recovering flesh tore again and warm blood streamed down Kili's back. Kili wasn't sure how many times Gurlak struck him, every lash blurred into the next with a flash of white hot pain and an agonised scream. The pain resonated in his back so intensely that he didn't notice when Gurlak finally stopped. He only realised after receiving a harsh kick to the gut and then again before being released from the orc's iron grips to crumple to the ground, arms wrapped around his mid-section as he curled into himself. They tied him up again after that and left him bleeding as more bitter cold rain came down. He'd tried to keep fighting as the days past, to find his brother again and save him from the grief that was surely crippling him if nothing else, but slowly he was becoming weaker. He could feel the way he grew tired quickly, the way the aches consumed his body. The way his resilience, the way spirit was slowly breaking. They were breaking him, and he'd tried so hard to stop them.

Now, Kili found himself on the back of a dark furred warg as the orcs began to travel at speed. Until that morning, they have moved in a calm, if continuous, pace. Kili wondered what had prompted the change. Gurlak was sat behind him, holding him in place. Although, the one-eyed orc probably wouldn't have cared if Kili had slipped off the side of the great hound. Kili had no idea where they were going, or why they were suddenly moving so quickly. What he did know, however was that he would have preferred to be tied to another tree – the rocking of the warg as it run was slowly making him feel queasy. The wargs bounded from one high peak to the next, leaping over deep canyons and sure-footedly clambering down near vertical cliffs. Kili had no time to take in his setting before he suddenly found himself within another. Every few minutes the scenery changed. He had tried to focus his weary eyes on the landscape to try and spot where they may be heading. But he saw nothing but grassy planes, farmland, thin woodland and a winding river. Where the orcs were heading was a mystery.


They'd passed the crag that the eagles had left them on in the morning, when the fog was still low enough to obscure the peak. Nobody could quite bring themselves to look up, the great cliff serving as a reminder of how they had escaped the orcs and their youngest member did not. It was approaching late afternoon on the fifth day since they learnt that Kili was dead and the days had not become easier. As the company continued their journey, with only low, monotonous chatter, they reflected, heavy heartedly, on the events of the past days. On how quickly everything had changed, how everything had unexpectedly gone from hopeful and merry to glum and disheartened. The nights had been the worst, because as the company lay down to sleep they would find themselves alone with their thoughts. No doubt, many silent tears were shed over the past nights.

Thorin was worried about Fili. His nephew had barely ate, every time the group had sat down to eat, Thorin had found himself urging Fili to eat more. "One more bite. Just take another," he'd found himself saying. It was as though Fili was a stubborn dwarfling who didn't want to eat his vegetables again. Fili had also spoken very little, and anything he had said had been mumbled and barely audible. There was nothing left of the nephew Thorin had helped his sister raise, and he feared that he was losing him too. He had walked beside Fili every day, regularly glancing at his pale and worn faced nephew from the corner of his eye and biting back any questions of "are you alright?" The look on Fili's face confirming what Thorin already knew; that he was not alright. He would never be alright again.

Now, having a moment's rest, a chilly wind blowing in from the east and releasing even more dead leaves from the tops of the trees that were dotted around them, Fili sunk down to the ground with his back pressing against a tree trunk and saying nothing to anyone. Fili would have been quite happy to sit there, with the autumn leaves scattered around him, and never move again. The past five days had been the hardest he had ever known and he felt weakened both physically and emotionally. He felt drained, like all his strength had left him. He wanted nothing than to sleep, to hibernate like the creatures of the earth and awaken in the spring, awaken from this nightmare his life had become. Fili looked down at his hands, his fingernails had been bitten right down, he had been subconsciously chewing on them for the past few days – something he hadn't done since he was young. His mother had dipped his fingertips in a foul tasting ointment which soon made him forget his habit. He could hear low voices as Thorin, Dwalin and Balin looked at the map and discussed their path. That map, this journey. This shouldn't have happened, if it wasn't for this quest, none of this would have happened. He felt angry, angry at his Line. Whilst he was proud of being in the Line of Durin, at that moment he resented it. He would swap his royal heritage, swap all the gold in Erebor for a mundane life if it meant his little brother would still be alive. The thought of the Lonely Mountain made him feel sick. Before he had been eager to reclaim the home of his people, it was what he had been raised for. But now, he didn't see the point in the riches and titles. They were meaningless to him now. Fili sighed and tilted his head back and looked up to the sky, a blue bird dipped above them. The weather the day before hadn't been as pleasant, there had been dark clouds overhead and they had watched a fine curtain of rain turn the landscape a few leagues away a dull grey. Today however, was quite different, almost warm.

Suddenly there came a sound, rolling over the mountains and moors and forests, that had Fili jump to his feet. It was the distant, yet unmistakable, howling of wargs. And wargs meant orcs. The foul beasts that had destroyed everything and stole away his most precious treasure. The moment he was standing, fists curled tightly at his sides, all eyes immediately looked towards him with apprehension. The expression of hatred on his face, the anger that shined in his eyes was enough to make them uneasy. Thorin strode over.

"Fili." He said sternly. He knew that look, he didn't need to see the way Fili's fingers twitched at his sides, itching for his swords, to know what he was thinking. What he wanted. But he did see and reached out to wrap a hand around his nephew's wrist.

"We have to go after them." Fili said, his eyes still pinned on the direction of the wargs. "Those beast murdered my brother, and want their blood." He growled. In that moment Thorin realised how much his nephew had changed. Fili had never been one to hold a grudge or seek revenge, and now he hungered for spilt blood.

"And you will, but not now." Fili frowned at him, confusion suddenly turning into frustration. He wrenched his wrist from Thorin's grip.

"Not now? Why? Because if we do go after them we won't reach the mountain in time?" The young dwarf's jaw was hard and his eyes bored into Thorin. "Is that all you care about, uncle? Your precious gold?"

"You know it's not."

"No! I don't!" Fili yelled. "It's always been your priority, it's always come before anything or anyone else!" Thorin's brows knitted together. "Even Kili. And now he's dead!" A choked sob shock Fili's body. "You left him! You didn't even try to turn those eagles around! Not even when I begged! You should have turned around when I said, or gone to find him the moment those eagles left us on the cliff. We should have gone then, and he'd still be here! But you said to wait!" Thorin could feel his nephew's anger coming off him in waves, burning like a raging fire. Not even the fire of Smaug burned so wrathfully. "You didn't even let me go to him! You held me back, when Azog had him pinned to the ground with a sword pointed to his heart! You held me back when he needed me, when he needed us! The whole reason he went to face Azog was for you! And you left him!"

"That's enough!" Dwalin bellowed, pulling Fili away from Thorin, who seemed unable to say anything to his enraged kin. The younger dwarf had his teeth bared like a wild animal, chest rising and falling in angry bursts. "Stop." Dwalin hauled him away a little further before letting him go. For a moment Fili said nothing, just stood stiffly with his fists curled at his sides. His jaw was tight and his blue eyes were alive with rage.

"My brother is dead. I hope your precious mountain is worth it!" Fili spat before marching away through the thin shrubbery. Dwalin sighed and moved to follow him.

"Leave him be." Thorin said quietly, face suddenly much paler. He had expected this, for he knew that with grief came anger and with anger came blame. He knew that Fili would blame him for his younger brother's death, that he would yell and push him away, rejecting any of Thorin's attempts to speak to him, not allowing his uncle to touch him. But until the anger came, Thorin had held Fili close, speaking words of comfort, being a shoulder to cry on, sitting beside him during the painful nights and remaining awake until sleep finally took Fili away from his grief. This anger and blame was inevitable, and Thorin had tried to postpone it, to cling to the bond that he had with his nephew. But now the anger had arrived, and the bond was being severed. Thorin had felt it coming, like an oncoming storm. Over the past few days, he had felt the way Fili tensed whenever Thorin sat beside him or touched him, he had noticed how Fili couldn't look him in the eyes. And now the wedge had come and Thorin knew that he was losing Fili too. There was only one person in the entire world who would be able to release him from his destructive and unnatural rage, that person was Kili. And Kili was dead.


-AN-

Weyhey! Chapter 17! I wasn't expecting it to last this long but I'm really enjoying writing for you guys, especially after reading your wonderful reviews – seriously, it really means a lot! They really spur me on to keep writing. Ahem, that's enough soppy stuff.

I booked tickets to see the midnight showing of BOFA today. I'm not ready guys. I doubt I'll ever be ready. I'm incredibly close to leaving the cinema just as the battle stars and coming up with my own ending, where everyone lives and everyone is happy. I have NEVER dreaded a movie as much as this, nor have I ever got as attached to fictional characters before. Fanfiction doesn't help, mind. This is gonna destroy me *sobs.*

Anyway, ANGRY FILI! I LOVE writing angry Fili. I don't know why but just like in chapter two and in my last fic (Nothing Without You) I really enjoy it. Maybe it's because he's usually the level headed one. Ah, but this was coming. Poor Thorin, on the receiving end of Fili's rage. If only they knew the truth.

I hope you liked this part! As usual, faves, follows and (especially) reviews are very much appreciated. J