*** Beware the Canon Police – they're comin' to get yuh, PJ ***

Hiding the Evidence

There was a haze over the battlefield, obscuring the multitude of dead. Bolg had, at some point, acquired a limp, making his progress slow as he wandered. He had to chuckle quietly to himself so not to disturb the silence; that great bear-man came at him like a charging bull, then slipped spectacularly on a pile of elk dung from the Elvenking's mount and face-planted on his way to the Orc. It was too damn funny to wait around for the great beast to right himself and overcome sheepish embarrassment; Bolg buggered off. The confusion of so many milling about as they tried to kill one another covered his departure. He never ran across the skinchanger again.

There would undoubtedly be a reckoning for that screw-up, but Bolg was determined to stay a step ahead of it for as long as he could get away with it.

Finding the edge of the battlefield, and thus an escape route to the mountains, was proving difficult in the shifting mists. Bolg sighed with annoyance as he found yet another of his enemies blubbing over a fallen ally several yards ahead.

Sentimental fools, he grumbled to himself. Didn't catch me whimpering when my da bit it, did you? Still, he felt a momentary hollowness, knowing he'd lost the weapon he'd taken from his father's dead fingers and wielded in vengeance. Broken over some Dwarf's head, as he recalled. That was satisfying.

The mists seemed to waft dramatically aside, revealing the source of the sniveling as a she-Elf. Recognizing her by her flaming red hair, Bolg groaned and his shoulders sagged.

Just great, he groused. He'd hoped their last 'encounter' would be the last, it was so blasted awful. But still... maybe another shot... you never knew...

Sighing, he reluctantly dragged himself closer. She was sitting with some smashed Dwarf's head in her lap, dripping all over his dead face. Eyes and nose, how gross was that? Another long-suffering sigh escaped the Orc as he fished a handkerchief out of his kilt. Slight smile, knowing it spent the last day nestled up close to his junk. Smirking, he held it out to the Elf.

"Hey," he said quietly, ducking his chin in greeting. She just stared blearily up at him, then looked at the filthy kerchief. Her pert little nose wrinkled slightly, but she took it from him. She also held it between finger and thumb as though it were a snake. Bolg grinned and settled himself beside her.

"What do you want?" Tauriel asked resignedly.

"Tough break, huh?" he offered, nodding toward the Dwarf. Looking down at Kili's face, she burst into fresh tears.

"He was so... so... so sweet!" she sobbed. Without thinking, she dabbed at her streaming eyes. "Ew!" she cried, throwing the kerchief away and vigorously rubbing her irritated eyes. Bolg laughed heartily, earning a hostile glare from the Elf. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" she snapped.

Gradually winding down from his mirth, he winked at her. "Ssshh. Canon Police ain't been by yet. Keep yer voice down."

Tauriel's eyes widened, then darted around. She hastily shoved the Dwarf off her lap, her grief forgotten. "They're here?" she whispered fearfully.

"Finally, yeah," the Orc confirmed. "Saw'em up by the mountain givin' a dressing down to Legolas. Another troop was all up in Thranduil's ass about the elk. Don't get me started about my da. Poor bastard can't even die late and get away with it."

"Oh dear," she breathed. "What are they doing with Legolas?"

"Heh," Bolg chuffed happily. "Showed him the book, and how he wasn't mentioned nowhere, and poof! He disappeared."

The she-Elf stared at him, aghast.

Recovering after a moment, Tauriel pointed to the Orc and repeated, "But... you're supposed to be dead, aren't you?"

Bolg nodded. "Yeah. Beorn slipped in elk shit – something else the CP are bitching about – and missed me. So... I reckon they'll fix that when they catch me." Leaning closer, he winked conspiratorially. "If they catch me."

"You intend to run, then?" she asked hopefully. Bolg nodded.

"They're a load of stuffed shirts, and Middle Earth's a big place," he reasoned with a shrug. "Sooner or later, they're bound to give up. One little Orc; what could it hurt, huh?" He grinned and winked again.

"And one little Elf," she suggested, timidly slipping her hand into his. He glanced down, then met her eyes.

"Yeah," he agreed, his expression softening. "Til they get tired of looking."

A/N: Nope, don't have any insights into the third movie at this point. As if movie canon has any more place in my shorts than book canon. ;)