Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is owned by J.R.R Tolkien and/or Peter Jackson. Every disclaimer is an obvious statement.

Author's Note: Yes, Tauriel finds Kili on the battlefield. So that means that no, Ravenhill did not play out the way it did in the movie. I'll leave you to speculate on how that affects the story of the Battle of Five Armies. It just seemed to work best for the flow of this story. Also, I am aware of the fact that this story starts almost exactly the same way my oneshot "Farewell" does. I have no excuse for this.

Chapter 1

The setting sun shed its red, early evening rays across the ruins of the battlefield. Bodies lay everywhere, some dead, some wounded, some still dying. Tauriel wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes to it all, but she knew she had to help—she would never forgive herself if she stood by and did nothing to alleviate some of this misery, this pain, this death.

Across the battlefield, tents for the wounded had sprung up as if my magic. It was towards one of these that Tauriel made her way, stepping around the bodies with both disgust and pity. Occasionally, she glanced down, in hopes of finding someone still alive in all this ruin and rubble. She couldn't help wondering what had happened to Kili. She shrank from the thought with something like reluctance, but it seemed to take root in her mind, and grow. Where was he now?

As these thoughts flitted through her mind, she noticed something at her feet that brought her to a stop. A small form, still, appearing lifeless—she recognized him, and ran forward, dropping to her knees. Kili. It was Kili. Blood seeped from his tunic in several places and his face was pale—too pale. Though unconscious, his hand lay closed around his sword. When she gently unclasped it and entwined his fingers in her own, he showed no response. His eyes remained closed, and his body limp. She felt her heart clench with worry.

"Kili," she said, softly at first, then a little louder, but still no response. She clasped his hand tightly, begging him silently to wake, to give her some sign that he was still alive. "Kili. Come back." There was a tone of command in her voice, as if she could wake him by her will alone. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling for his wounds. Please let him yet live. She had healed him once, could she do it again?

Her hand lingered over his heart. She stopped, and caught her breath. It was there. She felt it. A heartbeat. Slight, almost imperceptible, but it was there. He was alive.

She clasped his hand once more and stood. "I will return," she said softly, as if he could hear her. Then turning, she ran to the nearest tent and threw open the flap. Two women sat inside, sorting supplies.

"There's a…a dwarf," Tauriel began. "Near here. Very near. He's…badly wounded. I fear he will die if he's not tended to soon."

"I'll see that it's taken care of," one of the women said brusquely, pushing past Tauriel and out of the tent. The other woman sat placidly, still sorting bandages.

"Were you the one who came in just a bit ago asking if you could help?" she asked, still not looking up.

"No…" Tauriel couldn't quite keep the tone of puzzlement out of her voice. How many other elves had come in asking to help? "But I was going to…"

"Good. We need all the help we can get." The woman still didn't look up but seemed to know exactly what Tauriel was going to say next. "Go to the largest tent, just west of here. That is where they're keeping most of the wounded. They'll have need of your help."

"Thank you." Tauriel bowed her head in acknowledgement and stepped out of the tent. At least she would be doing something now—it would be a welcome distraction. From what, she didn't know; she only knew that she didn't want to think right now. She just wanted to do.

She was given a job as soon as she stepped inside the tent. No apparent consideration was given to the fact that she was an elf and a former captain of the guard—and for that she was glad. She didn't want any special recognition, she just wanted to help. The first job she was given was that of bringing more supplies; it seemed they were running out of bandages and ointment faster than they could be brought.

She was busy for the rest of the evening and well into the night, with barely a moment to think, which she was glad of. She didn't want to think of what would happen when the elves left. All she knew was that she would not be returning to Mirkwood with them. She barely had time to worry about Kili. She was kept busy running back and forth, fetching supplies, binding wounds, tending to the suffering. Some of the women seemed to appreciate her elven skill with her fingers, for she always seemed to be given wounds that needed the most delicate attention.

It was well into the middle of the night when she stepped out of the tent to fetch more supplies, half dreading seeing the battlefield eerily awash with moonlight, still covered in the bodies of the wounded and dying. She had just let the flap drop closed behind her when a shadowed figure caught her attention.

"Legolas?" She stopped and stood still as he approached.

"Tauriel!" he cried. "I've been searching for you for hours. I have come with a message from my father." He paused, and she started to speak, to ask what important message was, but stopped herself. Legolas continued a moment later. "I have been sent to tell you that you are no longer banished from our realm."

Tauriel's eyes widened in surprise, and she parted her lips to speak, then closed them. "Did he give a reason?" she finally managed to say, keeping her composure with difficulty. She could go home now. She could go back to Mirkwood.

She wasn't sure if she was glad or sorry.

"He gave me no reason, only a message." Legolas paused, and Tauriel, imagining the conversation to be over, turned. Legolas put a hand on her arm. "Tauriel," he said. "You have not been restored to your former position. You are no longer captain of the guard."

"Thank you…for bringing me his message." It was all Tauriel could say. "Now I must go. I have been sent for more supplies." She turned once more and didn't look back at her comrade, standing there in the dark, watching her leave. She felt like running, running away from this confusing news. Her mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions as she made her way to the supply tent. She had just begun to grasp the idea of making a home somewhere else, of perhaps staying here in Dale for a time, of getting to know the great kingdom of Erebor, and its prince.

Kili. She hadn't seen him since she had found him on the battlefield. Where had they taken him? Shouldn't he have come in with the other wounded? Surely he hadn't…surely he was still alive. She swallowed back a lump in her throat and tried to push the thoughts away, to stay focused on the task at hand.

"The young, dark haired dwarf," she found herself saying as she entered the supply tent. "Do you know where they've taken him?"

"Oh, he's a critical case, he is," the woman replied, still sitting placidly, sorting supplies, just as she had been doing all night, it seemed. Did she ever look up from her work? "He's got a tent nearly to himself, he's wounded so bad. It takes a truly dire wound for that."

Well that's reassuring. Tauriel couldn't keep the bite of sarcasm from her thoughts. If the woman had meant to comfort her in any way, she had certainly failed. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, keeping her voice even with an effort. Retrieving the needed supplies from the tent, she turned and left. So Kili was a critical case. As she picked her way back across the battlefield, one thought settled in her mind and wouldn't let go.

She had to see him.

"You've been working nearly all the night, miss. Do take a rest."

Tauriel glanced outside and was surprised to see that it was nearly daylight. So she had been here all night then. Elves could work for days and never tire. She didn't need a rest. She didn't even want a rest. Or did she? She glanced out of the tent once again as the sun began to rise above the horizon. The battlefield didn't look so eerie now.

Perhaps a break would be welcome.

"Thank you," she found herself saying to the girl, who had tapped her on the shoulder a moment earlier. "If you have enough help, I will only take a short rest."

"Yes, yes, we have enough, you need one." The girl nodded quickly, seeming eager to please. Tauriel felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips at the girl's slightly awestruck expression. Placing a hand on her head and gently ruffling the girl's tousled brown hair, she said,

"Thank you, miss….what is your name?"

"Brigitta." The girl stared up at Tauriel, her eyes wide.

"Thank you, Brigitta." Tauriel patted the girl on the shoulder. "I will return shortly."

As Tauriel stepped out of the tent, she saw several small tents scattered about the battlefield. She remembered the woman's words to her the night before, and before she quite knew what she was doing, she found herself walking towards the closest of them. Perhaps one of them was the tent in which Kili was kept.

The first tent she looked into was the site of more supply sorting. One of the workers inside looked up and gave her a very strange look, though she never quite knew why. She backed out, wanting to apologize for interrupting but not quite sure what to say. She searched the battlefield, poking her head into every tent she could find. Some held critically wounded, some held supplies. She was just beginning to consider giving up when she pushed aside the flap of a tent and saw him lying there, among a very few others, an older woman by his side.

She just stood there for a moment, a little unsure of what to do or what to say. Kili was just as pale as he had been hours ago, but his wounds were bandaged and he appeared to be well cared for.

"No visitors," the woman snapped, without looking up. "I don't care if you're family, friend, or lover, come back later."

"Let me help," Tauriel said, stepping inside the tent. "I will do anything you ask of me."

The woman finally looked up. "Don't need help. No visitors. One nurse is good enough. Now go."

Tauriel bowed her head and began to back out of the tent. "Yes ma'am," she said, managing with effort to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She wanted to tell the woman that what the wounded in this tent really needed was a more pleasant nurse, and she would be glad to relieve her of her position, but she said nothing. She couldn't keep the slight grin off her face as the thought occurred to her.

I'll come back later, when she isn't guarding the tent like a dragon.

Shortly thereafter, Tauriel found herself back in the large tent, helping once more. The more wounded were brought in, the more help they needed, and the less help they seemed to have. Many were still recovering from the dragon's attack, many too young, many too old. Most of the men were wounded in some way, or busy with the gruesome task of searching and clearing the battlefield of bodies. Many of the women and children were tired, and some wounded themselves. Tauriel was glad to relieve some of them of their duties, even if it was only a few.

She sat by a cot, busy with the task of caring for yet another wounded man, when two men entered, a stretcher between them. She barely looked up. She had seen this so many times during the night. But this one caught her attention. She finished binding the wound and stood. As the men entered, she saw that the one they carried was a dwarf.

It was Fili—Kili's brother.

"I will tend to this one," she said. "I know him."

"Very well." The woman in charge of the tent marked something off a list she held. "You tend to him." She directed the men to lay him on the nearest empty cot, of which there were increasingly few, and turned, directing her attention to the next problem at hand.

Tauriel was at Fili's side instantly. Calling for bandages and ointment, she swiftly began to examine his wounds. They were many, but not nearly as dire as his brother's. His eyes fluttered open just as she was finishing, and he tired to speak.

"Kili," he managed to say. "Where is my brother?"

"Kili is alive," Tauriel said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "Lie still. You're wounded." His lips parted to speak once again, and then his eyes closed, and his head fell limp on the pillow. Tauriel felt for a pulse, and sighed with relief. The last thing she wanted was to see Kili's brother die—and have to tell him. As she began once again to dress the young dwarf's wounds, worry stabbed at her heart. How many would never live to see the light of day?

Well, I have this entire thing written out on my computer, so I should be posting regularly with no foreseeable interruptions. And also, I swear I'll give you some actual Kiliel scenes in the next chapter.