Khuzdul translations and a note from me at the bottom. If you need a brush up, return to the story summary a couple chapters ago.

There's a lot of Dwarf language in this chapter because I wanted the authenticity of the dwarves to be on main display. Tried to make it obvious what they were saying, but like I said, translations and explanations on the bottom. Happy reading, old friends.

22

You Are Safe

Kíli writhed, aiming a fist at the goblin that seemed determined to torture him. He felt trapped in his own body, unable to defend himself against the prodding and pain around him.

They must have taken me during the battle.

He cried out as a burning sensation seared through his shoulder, like a white hot iron poker. He dared to open his eyes, only to see four pairs of yellow goblin ones staring back at him. Two had his arms pinned, their slimy skin covered in yellow sores. Two more were the torturers, brandishing small hooks and knives and vials of poison.

"Leave me alone," Kíli hissed, aiming a kick at the greyish one, "Filthy goblin trash."

The goblins pinned his legs too, as the grey torturer rested a cold slimy hand on his head.

"Sleep, child."

Kíli spit at him and ground out all the dark curses he knew, fighting against the iron grip of the goblins.

"What is going on, Oin?"

Thorin winced as Kíli tried to kick away from him. Fíli growled impatiently from the corner while Dwalin and his uncle did their best to keep Kíli still.

"The disease works backwards," Oin reasoned, dabbing at the medicine he'd poured on Kíli's arrow wound. He took the boy's hand and showed it to Thorin. "See the blackness leaving his nails? From what I've gathered, the illness nothing but evil. The Mallos acts on it like the sun does on a goblin, driving it out of the body. But it doesn't go quietly."

On cue, Kíli let out a loud snarl and nearly yanked Thorin over the table. Fíli stepped forward to help, but his one arm was bandaged tightly against his chest. His free hand couldn't do much more than hold Oin's medical tools.

"He hallucinated like this while we were in the wagons," Fíli offered, wincing as they turned Kíli onto his stomach to treat his back. The young dwarf let out a curse of anger and unmistakable pain, sweat dripping down his temples. Fíli put down the tools a moment to dab his brother's forehead with a cool cloth. "Except often enough, he'd just think we'd been rescued. Or that we'd never left home."

"Well, now he thinks we're goblins," Dwalin laughed humorlessly, "A fine reward for all we've gone through."

Oin grimaced and muttered an apology to the boy before pouring a sharp smelling ointment on a cloth and sweeping it over the open wounds on Kíli's back. Kíli didn't cry out, but gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead into the table. His muscles bunched and tensed and his skin shone with sweat as the sting rose and the receded.

"Kíli," Filli whispered, crouching down to his level, "Can you hear me?"

The young dwarf didn't answer, his breathing coming in labored breaths. Fíli rustled his hair and tried again. "I'timî, naddith. Menu gauhnith."

Breathe, little brother. You are safe.

"Fíli," he muttered finally, grimacing. "They've got you too?"

"No, naddith. No one has you. It's a dream, it's not real."

"A dream?" Kíli groaned, raising his head to look at his brother. "Rasup ogmut men?"

"Menu natugamut."

"What are you saying to the lad?" Oin asked, using Kíli's stillness as an opportunity to begin to treat the burn on his hand.

"He asked if he was still sick. I told him he'll be better soon."

Kíli blinked at Fíli, no doubt still trying to discern if he was talking to a goblin or his brother. "Irak'adad?"

"Uncle is right here," Fíli answered, gesturing towards Thorin. "Oin and Master Dwalin as well." Kíli turned his head, his eyes flicking towards the figure beside him. Thorin lessened his grip on the boy, as he no longer fought against them. He waited for Kíli to say something, but the boy's face paled and his eyes began to slide shut. "Gajut men, irak'adad," he said weakly. Fíli blinked, surprised by his brother's words. If anyone should be asking his uncle for forgiveness, it was him.

Thorin rested a hand on Kíli's head, "Menu gajatu irakdashat, hurun ganat."

You are forgiven sister-son, rest well.

With that, Kíli calmed and let his eyes shut completely. From there Oin made quick work of bandaging the rest of Kíli's wounds and instructed Dwalin to carry Kíli to a waiting bed. They placed heavy blankets over him and left a mug of honey water by his head should he wake up.

"I'll stay with him," Fíli offered, sitting down on a pillow next to Kíli's bed. "Someone should keep an eye on him anyway."

"Very well," Oin said, "I have to go and see to Bifur."

"How is he?" Dwalin asked urgently.

"Well, he's still alive," Oin sighed, "but I can't remove that axe from his head without him bleeding out…"

Thorin made a sound of disbelief, "So it will remain there?"

"If I can keep any infection at bay, I believe that's our only option. We don't know how he's been affected as of yet."

Kíli groaned and muttered something in his sleep, twisting against the blankets. Fíli adjusted them over his brother's shoulders and Thorin gestured the remaining dwarves outside. "Let's allow him to sleep in peace." When suddenly Kíli was sitting up.

"Thanu men!" Kíli cried out suddenly, looking at Thorin in amazement. "Menu ziramu gamildul. Khayum pend kadzur—Erabor!"

Thorin stood frozen a moment, shocked by Kíli's delusional outburst. The boy looked like he was standing in the Halls of Gold himself, eyes wide as they took in the glory of it all. Fíli looked embarrassed for Kíli, pinning him down to the bed with his good hand.

"We're not in Erabor, Kíli. Shut up."

The boy didn't seem to heed them, sinking deeper into his pillow and drawing up his blanket, murmuring, "Khayum Thane," until he fell back asleep.

Victory for the king.

"A happy delusion, at least," Thorin muttered, leaving the tent as quickly as he could.

Miles away, a lonely riverbank was having a most unwelcome visitor. Demetrius pulled himself from the riverbed with only his robe and a misguided will to survive. He coughed and sputtered as the water left his lungs, all the while hulling himself up onto the bank and into the grass.

Confound this day to hell.

He took a moment to recover there in the grass, letting the air in and out of his lungs. He wondered idly if he was even alive or if he'd drowned and left his real body under the depths.

"Well, well, well."

Demetrius jumped, looking up at the figure towering over him. The ghost of his nephew, Tristan, stood tall as a tree – the blood of his wound still stained to his shirt.

"Tristan! Good heavens." He blubbered a moment more and then ended with, "Am…am I dead?"

Tristan smirked, "As dead as I am."

Demetrius groaned, letting his head fall onto his arms. This was it; The Afterlife. The ghost of his executed nephew come to carry him to the halls beyond.

Tristan knelt down, his face drawn in a serious line. "I suggest you run, uncle."

"R-run?"

Demetrius looked up at the boy, his lip quivering in fear. This was the worst of all days.

"The Devil's on your heels," Tristan continued. "You're debt is bound to be paid."

Demetrius blanched, barely able to speak. "W-what do I do?"

"You have a march ahead of you, to the Halls. You can go there and do your best to redeem the world of your wrongs on your way, or linger and have the Devil bring you home."

"Is...how…"

"You'd better run now, Uncle," came a new voice. Lia emerged from the trees beside them, dripping wet from the river with weeds tangled in her hair. She must have drowned, Demetrius reasoned, and joined them in the afterlife. "The devil's not far behind."

"And redemption is far ahead," Tristan whispered.

"Run!"

Demetrius shrieked as Lia came stomping towards him, throwing stones and dirt at him as he gathered his wet robes and took off into the forest. The brother and sister watched him go, stumbling and crying out as he navigated the trees.

"Think he'll believe it after the shock wears off?" Tristan asked, feeling Lia join his side.

"Maybe not, but it's a dangerous forest. He may learn his lesson beside."

Demetrius' voice faded into the distance, and the roaring of the water became the only sound left. Tristan turned as Lia procured her hand, revealing a fist full of white flowers from the depths of the river.

"Snow Dragons," she smiled, "The way that we started."

"A fit way to begin again," Tristan agreed, taking the flowers from her. They would have to gather more to make a living. And they would need supplies to survive the path. But they'd survived this ordeal, and would no doubt live until the next one. So, with a glance around at the barren forest, the pair quietly faded into the shadows and onto a new world of unknowns.

The sun was setting as Thorin sat outside their camp, taking in the small city in front of him. After the attack and Oin's initial treatments, they'd taken themselves just far enough up the river to retire in the safety of a new city, free of sleazy merchants and slavers. Brent and his family took Aliza into the city, disappearing into the crowd with a sort of quiet ease only nomads could manage. But not without leaving a small gift—an obsidian healing rune—behind on Bifur's sick bed. And although Thorin didn't ever like Brent, he wished them well.

It was an admittedly beautiful place, called Amyth, or the City of Purple Glass. Many of the dwarves were quite taken with it, admiring the purple stones that decorated the streets and buildings. They also discovered a line of dwarves that mined the caves there who were more than happy to help them make a comfortable camp. Now, all that was left to do was wait and hope for a speedy recovery.

"How is the boy?" Era asked gently, sitting beside Thorin. "It's been nearly three days."

"He's mending," Thorin sighed, glancing at the tent beside him, "But it's been a painful process."

Retching could be heard from inside the tent, making the pair wince in sympathy and disgust. Oin emerged a minute later, dabbing his forehead with a cloth and carrying a bucket that's been through far too much.

"Poor thing," Era sighed, "But I'm glad he's still with us. He's strong."

Thorin nodded, looking down at his feet. The three wolf pups were curled up around his ankles, one of them with black markings on its head still had his bootlace in its mouth. "How are you fairing? With Millí?"

Thorin looked up and was suddenly stunned, just now having noticed Era's appearance. Her beard was completely gone, all of the elaborate braids and beads resided now only in her hair. Thorin blinked a few times, finding himself unable to produce words.

Or proper manners.

"For Millí," she offered, blushing a little, "I figured she shouldn't be alone in it."

Thorin managed to shut his mouth and nodded, ironing his face. "Menu gamut khed, Era."

Era's face burned and she looked away, not used to the king's kind words. "Thorin," she said finally, staring intently down at her hands, "I have something that I need to tell you…"

Suddenly Kíli came toppling from the tent, lurching towards the grass. Era and Thorin shot up from their seats.

"Kíli, what on earth are you doing?!"

"Oin…took the buc—"

Kíli's words cut off as he doubled over and retched into the grass. Era and Thorin took a step back, trying to give the poor boy air and preserve their boots. Fíli emerged from the tent looking rather tired, holding a glass of water. When Kíli finished, he pushed the offered glass away.

"I can't keep it down, Fíli. You know that."

"You've got to try."

"I'm done trying!"

Kíli sat back on his heels, closing his eyes as Fíli shot Thorin an exasperated look.

"He's been in this phase for two days now," Fíli hissed, "how much longer is this supposed to take? He can't manage much longer."

"I don't know…"

"DINNER!"

Bofur limped around the corner, carrying a tray of fragrant buns stuffed with meat. Era and Thorin thought it smelled rather enticing, but it only made Kíli groan.

"C'mon Kíli, let's go back inside," Fíli whispered, pulling gently on his arm. Kíli shook his head and pulled away, flopping forward.

"Kíli."

The boy held up a hand, his eyes closed and head towards the ground.

"K—"

The hand silenced him again.

"Wha—"

The lot of them groaned as Kíli got sick into the grass again, his arms buckling as his body tried to rid itself of anything and everything that could be left in his system.

"Maybe I'll just…" Bofur backed away, looking embarrassed, "…serve these over here."

He turned slowly, disappearing to the other side of the camp. On their side, Kíli was still trying to catch his breath and Era had politely turned her attention to the horizon.

"Let's go back inside," Fíli said gently, patting Kíli's back.

"Mm'kay," Kíli slurred, flopping back against his brother. "Inside where?"

"…The tent."

Thorin and Fíli exchanged looks, but Kíli seemed unaware. Thorin helped gather the boy up and supported him back inside to his bed. Fíli lit another lantern and placed the cup of water on the table.

"Are you feeling any better now?" Thorin asked, allowing Kíli to flop back onto his mattress. The boy seemed suddenly very interested in the texture of the blankets and didn't register the question.

"Kíli?"

"…Hm?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow as Kíli looked at him with glazed over eyes. Something seemed to click after a long pause, Kíli's face becoming quite serious. "Borin Oakensocks," he said flatly. Fíli snorted and without another word, Thorin gently pushed Kíli down onto the pillows and offered him the water.

Borin Oakensocks?

"Drink this."

Kíli's eyes slid to the glass, seeming confused. He slowly took it and sipped the contents, although he got a good amount of it on his tunic as well.

But it was a start.

"He must be moving into the first phase," Fíli said, relief clear in his voice.

"And what phase is that?"

"Delirium," Fíli answered, just as three yelping wolf pups came tumbling into the room.

"Puppies!" Kíli exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed in an attempt to reach them. He snagged one with brown markings and a floppy ear, hugging its wriggling body to his chest. "Where d'you get them?"

Thorin smirked and looked down at his boot, finding the pup with black markings dutifully chewing his shoelace again. "Nevermind that now. Just get some rest. Please."

"Should we…let them stay in here?" Fíli asked doubtfully, picking up the blue-eyed pup. Thorin shrugged, making a small effort to free his boot. "They make him happy," was all he said. The pup Kíli had picked up was licking his chin and trotting around the bed in excitement. Fíli gave Thorin another look, but the king's expression didn't change.

"I'll let Oin be in charge of that decision."

Thorin swept out of the tent, leaving Fíli to care for his brother alone. He looked at the younger dwarf and sighed, noting the receding blackness in his nails.

He's getting better.

"What'er you looking at?" Kíli demanded, suddenly noticing Fíli's watchful eye.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're getting better, Kee."

Kíli blinked hard at him, trying to sort the thoughts in his head. "I've hurt you," he said finally. "Men gajamul."

"Don't apologize," Fíli admonished, "I'm sorry you had to suffer so much before…and after I got to you." Kíli's eyes seemed to slide in and out of focus, and Fíli could tell he was having difficulty comprehending his words. So he sat gently on Kíli's bed, putting the puppy on the ground and touching a cool cloth to his brother's warm forehead. "You probably won't remember much of what I'm saying, will you?"

Kíli shook his head, wincing as Fíli also checked the arrow wound. "I didn't remember much tha-firsttime," he slurred. Fíli smiled and nodded, satisfied that nothing looked infected.

"Then I have to say something," Fíli said, allowing himself to be momentarily very vulnerable. Kíli peered up at him from the blanket, waiting patiently for him to continue. Fíli took a deep breath and continued.

"When Lia stabbed you in the chest, I thought I'd lost you and it almost destroyed me. I couldn't feel my hands anymore, my head was just this weird storm and…It was the worst feeling I've ever felt and hopefully will ever feel in my life."

"Fee."

"And then you were alive and there was so much hope! And I know it was you who shot the boat and set off those fireworks—genius, by the way—and then I saw you. And you were dead Kíli, there was no other way to look at it. You weren't breathing right, you were covered in so much blood, and for the second time in one day I thought I'd lost you." Fíli clenched his fist so his hands would stop shaking. "But you didn't die. You're here. So now, I have to say…"

"Fee."

"You're my best friend, and I couldn't ask for a better younger brother. And if you were gone I would…I would be lost. So…" Fíli cleared his throat of any weakness and straightened his back, "…there. That's all."

Kíli was silent, blinking as Fíli's stream of consciousness registered in his dizzy haze. Fíli seemed to remember something then and dug into his pocket, procuring the stone necklace from his father that Kíli had lost in the field.

"We found this, thought you'd want it back," Fíli said, putting the necklace in Kíli's slack hand.

Kíli's fingers slowly closed around the stone, realizing what he had.

"Thank you," Kíli said softly. "For everything." He looked down at the stone as Fíli stood stoically, regaining his dwarven pride. Kíli quietly watched him as he bustled around the tent, stacking and un-stacking cups in an attempt to be useful.

"Men lananubukhs menu, nadad."

Fíli smirked at these words, glancing at Kíli. But the dark-haired dwarf had already closed his eyes and gone slack, the necklace still tangled in his fingers.

Another three days had passed and the company was preparing the wagons for departure. Most of them were traveling on horseback, but those who were still injured and recovering were to stay inside whenever possible. Era helped Thorin hull a crate of food into the wagon, the two of them rubbing their sore hands once it was done.

"Should he really be out right now?" Era asked, nodding towards the mountain, "With the others?"

Thorin's stomach churned a bit at the thought of Kíli being on his feet, but he kept his face composed. "His fever broke, and he's a Durin. He'll be alright."

Era grimaced but didn't argue, casting another look at the mountain where the team of young dwarves had disappeared.

"Era," Thorin said, his voice sticking in his throat. Why was he so nervous? "I noticed we are short on horses. I wanted to offer you the services of my own." Era looked at him and his felt suddenly embarrassed. "It's the least I could do, after you scaled a cliff for my nephew."

"Thorin, I've been meaning to tell you something," Era said, her voice sounding shaky, "And I suppose now's my chance."

Thorin had never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

"Thorin, I—"

"—discovered this cave when Era and I were smoking out the last of the goblins," Millí said, scaling some of the larger boulders. "As a gesture of good will to the city, to make sure they're safe from more attacks."

Gimli, Ori, Fíli, and Kíli followed behind her at a slow and unsteady pace. The five of them had never looked so absurdly battered, but all of them were happy to be alone together for once.

And not entirely in danger.

Days before this hike, when Kíli's fever broke, his first visitors were none other than Gimli, Millí, and Ori. At the time, it had been a pretty emotional reunion; one to which Fíli couldn't entirely relate. It was almost lonely, watching the four of them talking wildly about what had happened after they were separated. But fortunately, when it cam time to compare adventures, Fíli had the most extravagant story.

"These rocks look a lot like the dragon egg," Fíli commented, hoisting his weight over one such rock.

"I'm still not convinced you saw a real dragon egg," Kíli answered, "I'm still not sure I even believe you all about the skin changer."

"Or kissing the ginger girl," Gimli added.

"I can vouch for the skin changer," Ori chimed in, "But not for the girl. Or the egg."

"Well I did see the egg!"

"So you admit to not kissing the girl!" Kíli cut with a smirk. Fíli was going to elbow him but stopped, remembering just by looking at him how unstable Kíli's condition remained. He didn't have a fever, but he was still very pale and needed a lot of help getting up the steeper parts of the mountain. So he settle for muttering that everyone was just jealous.

"Do you need me to slow down?" Millí asked after a while, pitying her band of sick and injured friends.

"Just a tad," Ori huffed, eyes going cross under his head bandage.

Bless your heart, Ori, Fíli thought, using his good arm to steady Kíli.

Millí waited patiently, her eyes scanning protectively over her group of friends. Her axe was clutched in her fist, despite the lack of immediate danger. "Not much longer now."

"That's what she said an hour ago," Kíli wheezed, smirking at his brother.

When they'd finally hulled their bruised and beaten bodies to the top of the path, it was clear why Millí had been so determined for them to come. Before them was a large cave, shimmering with an astounding display of glassy purple geode.

"Purple amethyst," Millí answered their unasked question, "A lot of it."

The group walked slowly into the cave, their mouths open in awe. The edges of the stone were covered in large crystals, making the walls shimmer.

"This is incredible, Millí," Gimli said, running his hands over the stone. Fíli let Kíli sit down against the cave wall, walking in deeper himself.

"It's beautiful," Kíli said in a hoarse voice. Millí came up to him and immediately wrapped her scarf around his throat, revealing her grizzly bolas wounds.

"You should keep your throat warm, it will help it heal faster," she admonished, ignoring Kíli's swat at her hand. She moved on before he could give it back, "The city here values this stone very much. They use it to trade as well, making it into jewelry and things like that."

"It's such a shame to leave it behind," Ori sighed, scanning the ceiling with wide eyes.

Millí suddenly looked very uncomfortable, "Well, that's actually what I brought you all here to tell you," she said, "I'm not going back."

"What?!"

They'd all exclaimed, but the loudest of them was Gimli. Millí flushed and raised a hand to calm them. "Era and I are going to stay behind and mine this cave. Start new."

"But Millí…why?"

Fíli looked at his friend, for the first time in a long time, with a scrutinizing gaze. He now could see the dark circles around her eyes, suggesting she'd been tired for a very, very long time.

"I hope you understand," she said sadly, "But in all this, I've done some…awful things in our attempt to stay alive. I've never taken a human life before, and now I have a lot of blood on my hands…some of it innocent. Maybe. I don't regret what I did, but I should have done better. I can't just go back to the Blue Mountains beardless and pretend nothing happened."

Kíli shivered as he remembered the way the merchants had jeered and humiliated her at the camp. And the way she plunged her knife into the guard's throat at Celylas. He understood her feeling very much in that moment.

"I feel at home here with this stone, and I want to explore what that means," she finished.

Ori and Gimli were still gaping, but Fíli recovered his composure first. "We'll be sorry to see you go, Millí. You're a great warrior."

"And friend," Kíli added. Millí smiled at him and then took off her pack, stealing herself against any further emotion.

"I realize you may need some time to process this, so I brought lunch," she said, procuring an arsenal of meat buns. "Come and sit, and let's just enjoy our time together for a while."

Reluctantly, the friends joined her to sit on the cave floor. And they began to eat and drink. And laugh. And laugh more. And for the first time, Kíli felt like he was back home in the Blue Mountains and didn't fear for anything.

The sun was high now, and the time to say goodbye had come. The horses where saddled and the wagons were ready. Kíli couldn't help but feel sad, seeing a beardless Era and Millí standing apart from them. They weren't holding weapons or bearing armor, but Kíli hoped that they would again some day.

The older dwarves, led by an unabashed Bofur, said their farewells quickly and proudly, but not without earnest. Thorin was last amongst them, bidding Millí goodbye and then reaching Era. Thorin stiffly said, "Tan menu selek lanun naman," wishing her well in her future endeavors. They touched foreheads, and Kíli could swear he heard Era say a more intimate, "Menu denapdul, khamam manu demapdul, demup telek menu. Menu tessu, Thanu men."

You are honorable, your family is honorable, for honor works through you. You are everything, my King.

Thorin visibly reddened, slowly releasing Era and backing towards the wagons. Fíli and Kíli exchanged a look on their uncle's behalf before stepping up to say their farewells.

Fíli touched foreheads with Era then Millí, having already harnessed his Durin-given resilience to emotion. Kíli went next, touching foreheads with Era and then slamming heads with Millí in the way only their race could stand. "Gamut nanun," Kíli said.

"Tak natu yenet," Millí answered, patting his cheek. "Stay out of trouble for a while, will you?"

Kíli offered her an impish grin, "I'll make no promises."

Ori then came plummeting through, wrapping his arms around Millí in a tight embrace. "You can't leave me to the world Millí, I won't make it."

"Yes you will," she sighed, patting his back in exasperation. "You killed an orc with a mere stone. You wielded a slingshot into a deadly battle weapon. You are brave, Ori." She forced him to look at her, "Much braver than you know. Make me proud."

"I will miss you," he said soberly. Millí groaned and gave him one final hug.

"I will miss you too, Ori. Immortalize me in those scrolls of yours, won't you?"

"Of course."

Ori stepped away, doing his best not to cry. And then all that was left was Gimli.

"Gimli," Millí said, taking his arm. His face was taught, no doubt hiding his emotions as much as possible. "I will miss you, my friend."

Gimli nodded, grunting.

"Ekespu menu men o targu men."

Gimli blushed deeply at those words, as did anyone who was listening. Suddenly Fíli and Kíli were politely distracted by clouds in the sky. And treetops.

And anything that wasn't in the direction of Millí and Gimli.

"Fer the record," he said finally, "You are the only blonde-haired warrior I'd ever follow into the world and back."

"I doubt that," Millí laughed, patting his cheek. "Rasup gamut, Gimli."

"Farewell." Gimli took a half step back, then lunged forward and kissed Millí right in the face. Bofur cheered heartily, despite everyone else's uncomfortable groans. "Until we meet again."

And with that, the party began to load into the wagons and mount their horses, taking a final look at the city of Amyth and their friends standing rigidly on the path below. On Thorin's command, they began moving forward down the path. Fíli slung his arm around Gimli and promised his friend a pint on their return home.

Kíli himself was sitting in a wagon with Bofur and…well there was supposed to be someone else…

"WAIT!"

The wagon came to a screeching halt, Dwalin immediately appearing at the back with a frustrated look. "What, laddie? What could have possibly gone wrong in the last -"

"Where's Bifur?" Kíli asked incredulously. The axe-headed dwarf was supposed to be in the infirmary wagon with him. Bofur perked up at the question.

"I thought I saw him!" he exclaimed, looking under the blanket that in no possible way contained his brother. Kíli stumbled from the wagon, needing only a little help from Dwalin to stay upright, determined to find him. When there, in the not so far distance, was Bifur trotting towards them, waving his arms and signing at them frantically in iglishmêk.

WAIT, YOU BEARDLESS ASSHOLES! WAIT FOR ME!

And ashamed as they were to have left their friend behind, that was the first time they learned—despite the sizable axe lodged in Bifur's head—he could still sign their language.

"By my beard, it's an absolute miracle!" Bofur exclaimed, signaling back. "Let's just hope he knows more than curses."

Night had fallen, but the party continued on the path. Kíli was asleep despite the mighty snoring coming from Bifur and Bofur in the corner, and Gimli by his feet. The wagon went over a large bump, awakening him to the sharp pain in his back and shoulder. He hissed and allowed it to subside.

When he noticed a figures sitting in the open flap of the wagon.

"Fíli?"

The blonde dwarf turned, nodding in Kíli's direction. "Are you alright?"

The younger dwarf winced at the fatigue in his brother's voice. "You don't have to torture yourself anymore, we're safe. Get some rest," Kíli whispered, navigating to his brother and pulling him from the edge of the wagon.

"I can't sleep anyway. I don't think I will until we're back in the Blue Mountains," Fíli muttered, not doing much to resist his brother. Kíli forced him onto his cot and carefully set down the leather pouch that contained two sleepy wolf pups. "Think amad will let us keep them?"

"Think amad will let us keep our hides?" Kíli responded, petting the pups. Fíli frowned and tried to get up, but Kíli pushed him down again.

"Kíli, stop. I want to stay watch."

"Fíli, you need to sleep. You were holding your battle hammer upside down and your bracers are on backwards. Enough. I can take care of us for now."

"You're sick," Fíli retorted.

"Barely," was the answer. Kíli looked down at the pups and raised an eyebrow. "Where's the third one? Did you lose him?"

"Thorin has it," Fíli yawned, trying to sit up but having Kíli's hand force him back down. "I think he likes it."

"I'm using it for hunting," came an answer from outside the tent. Kíli jumped and reopened the flap, now revealing Thorin on his horse, riding protectively behind the wagon. The black-marked wolf pup was dead asleep, its head poking out from one of his saddlebags.

"Uncle Thorin, do I have to drag you in here too?" Kíli hissed, narrowing his eyes to see if anyone else was watching him.

Thorin didn't answer, but there was a small smirk on his face.

"Dis wont be happy if you come home completely unrested," Kíli continued, hoping his uncle would take a rest from his vigil.

"Dis won't be happy regardless," Thorin chuckled, "She's waiting for both of you in Brendor."

Kíli swallowed, feeling suddenly cold at the thought of his mother's wrath.

"What did he say?" Fíli asked sleepily, now fully sprawled out Kíli's cot.

Kíli thought it best to lie. "Nothing, everything's fine."

Fíli muttered something, but it was clear that Kíli was right and the boy desperately needed a safe place to sleep. Kíli returned to the edge of the wagon, dragging his bow and quiver with him. After some time of silence between them, Kíli couldn't help but ask Thorin a question.

"You're never going to take us on another adventure again, are you?"

Thorin grunted. Kíli was about to be disappointed when he noticed something moving in the bushes.

"Thorin, look out!"

With lightning speed, Kíli knocked an arrow and shot at a massive black spider—the size of a dog—that had been scuttling across the trail.

"How in Durin's name did that get here?" Kíli hissed, ignoring Thorin's look of bewilderment.

"I…don't know. I've only ever heard stories of such creatures."

"I told you," came Fíli's groggy voice. Kíli jumped, finding his brother right behind him. "That wagon was full of strange things that now roam the wild here."

"There's just no way you smashed one of those things with only your boot."

Fíli shrugged, "Believe what you like."

He slumped down so that his back was to the wagon entrance, but also close to Kíli's perch. The younger had another arrow knocked, but let the bow slack when no further danger emerged. Thorin seemed to be contemplating something, until he finally said, "Twenty years."

"What?"

"Maybe in twenty years or so, I'll take you on another adventure."

Kíli laughed, shaking his head but accepting the terms. He might need twenty years of reprieve after this venture anyway.

After a few moments, Thorin decided he trusted Kíli enough to trot his horse up to the front of the ranks. Satisfied with the new responsibility, Kíli scanned the night, determined to protect his friends and brother from any further harm. He felt useful again for the first time in weeks.

"I did see a dragon egg," Fíli murmured, half asleep from his seat.

"I believe you," Kíli smiled, stroking the feather on his arrow. "About the egg and the girl. Now please, nadad, sleep."

It didn't take long for Kíli to win, his brother's snores joining the others in the wagon. Kíli kept watch vigilantly, his arrow still knocked. He wouldn't fail his friends and family. He would prove himself. He would protect them. Kíli kept a sharp eye out on the shadows for hours.

And then it was a sleepy eye on the shadows for hours.

And then it was a closed eye.

He barely noticed a pair of strong hands guiding him back into bed, nor did he register Fíli being dragged onto the cot beside him. He didn't hear Thorin leave the wagon or get back on his horse, nor did he need to hear anything.

Because Thorin wasn't going to let any more harm befall his family; he wouldn't take his eyes off them until they were home. Not in the Blue Mountains, but sitting on their rightful thrones in Erabor. For he loved his family more fiercely than anything, even gold.

No orc, goblin, or fever of any kind would ever change that fact.

Epilogue to come.

TRANSLATIONS:

I tried to make most of the Khuzdul obvious, but for the phrases where maybe it wasn't, here's the translation. (If anyone out there is an Khuzdul expert and I messed it up, sorry!)

In the first section, when Kili is hallucinating:

Fíli: I'timî, naddith. Menu gauhnith.

Breathe, little brother. You are safe.

Kíli: Rasup ogmut men?

I am not well?

Fíli: Menu natugamut.

You will be well.

Kíli (to Thorin): Gajut men, irak'adad.

Forgive me, uncle.

Thorin: Menu gajatu irakdashat, hurun ganat.

You are forgiven nephew, rest well.

When Kili hallucinats again, this time about Thorin/Erabor:

Kíli: Thanu men! Menu ziramu gamildul. Khayum pend kadzur—Erabor!

My King! You forge with the ancients. Victory for the City of Gold, Erabor!

After Thorin learns that Era shaved her beard for Mlli:

Thorin: Menu gamut khed, Era.

You are a wonderful person, Era.

Kili and Fili's delirious and emotional conversation:

Kíli: Men gajamul

I apologize / i.e. I'm sorry.

Kíli: Men lananubukhs menu, nadad.

I love you, brother.

The goodbye scene between the company and Era/Milli:

Thorin: Tan menu selek lanun naman.

May your forge burn bright.

Era: Menu denapdul, khamam manu demapdul, demup telek menu. Menu tessu, Thanu men.

You are honorable, your clan is honorable, honor works through you. You are everything, my King.

(Suggesting he was important to her. Maybe as a king, maybe as a bit more. *Wink*)

Kíli (to Milli): Gamut nanun.

Well met.

Millí (to Kili): Tak natu yenet.

Until we meet again.

Millí (To Gimli): Ekespu menu men o targu men.

I value you more than I value my beard.

Millí: Rasup gamut, Gimli.

Farewell, Gimli.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'll just be real with you guys. My little brother died in a bad way and I couldn't find it in me to do very much extra, including writing a fanfiction centering around siblings. So if it feels like I fell off the face of the Earth, I kind of did, and that totally sucks of me to leave you all hanging, but I hope you understand.

On a happy note, I just got back from a long trip to New Zealand (i.e. Middle stinkin' Earth) and saw every inch of it that I could, including Rivendell and Hobbiton. I came back feeling a little more energized and, most of all, full of that LOTR inspiration that reminded me about this story and that I should finish it. So here we are.

But while this is the ending I intended, it feels wrong of me to make you all wait so long for only one chapter. And I power wrote it in a day, so I still have some lingering need to write H/C. So I'll get an epilogue out to you by the end of the week just as a little more closure to a very long winded story. (Seriously, I talk forever in these chapters. I just read the whole thing over again).

I hope you enjoyed, sorry it took so long.