How could he feel so alone while surrounded my so many people? So many people who he knew loved him.

The irritation built up- over months and months of awkward conversations and constant lying. He lost it. He couldn't take it any longer. This was it. Enough was enough.

There was so much anger within him. So much anger and frustration. He wanted to shout and scream. Not just at the company but at everyone and everything. He wanted to scream so loud his voice would be heard in all the corners of the world. He was trapped. Trapped in a place he would never belong. Caged in with no escape.

Poor innocent Bilbo. He was the first. The first and the easiest. It was only fitting, the most vulnerable of the company. The rest went down slowly. They put up a fight, not expecting Kili's assassin like skill.

Fili was the last. His body was struck still with pure terror. Backed up against tree, he dropped his weapons refusing to fight back. Despondent and defenceless he looked at Kili as though he was insane. Frightened of his own little brother, how pathetic. His eyes filled up with pure shock and anguish. There they were empty. And like the last leaf of autumn, he fell slowly in an elegant larghetto... holding on for dear life.

Dead bodies of the company lay around him. Their glassed eyes reflected the pale moon which lingered dolefully. For a moment Kili sat there. Just sat there and stared into the darkness. An uncontrollable sob followed the eerie silence. He wept and wept until there were no more tears.

It hit him. All that he loved was gone. There was nothing left. Not even a remaining hint of the dwarf he once was. What had he done? It was irreversible, there was no fixing his mistakes. No going back.

This was the end. The end of a life not worth living. He didn't deserve a quick death like he had given the others. He deserved a prolonged agonising death.

One last brush of the blade. And he bled out. He bled out surrounded by those who loved him. Alone on the forest floor.

Clutching the blade which took everything he had ever loved. The obsession which precipitated his demise.