AUthor's Note: I hesitated to release this one out into the world, mostly because it's darker, grittier, and more explicit than my usual fare. Nevertheless, here it is, and hopefully it will be enjoyed. A bit of smut in this first portion; fair warning. :)

I will have war!

Thorin's words echoed in Kili's head as he stared into the ceiling with anxiety and confusion. Could he allow his uncle's madness to propel them headlong into carnage? He could not defy his king, and there now seemed no other way. The gold sickness had taken him; that much was clear. It appeared as though history was simply doomed to repeat itself. Had this been their destiny all along? Upon the creation of their ancient line, had the Valar already sealed their fate, burying an illness in their blood that would lead them to a bitter and destructive end? Or was the scourge upon their heritage a test? If so, it was one they had all surely failed. So many unanswered questions assaulted his mind, but he forced them to the weighside. There was somewhere he had to be.

Their cousin, Dain Ironfoot, had arrived only hours ago to aid them, but already a small contingent of his soldiers from the Iron Hills was posted just inside the entrance to Erebor, guarding against the surprise attack that all others had suspected, but Kili knew would not come. He passed them, earning nothing but a few wary stares, as he expertly tossed himself over the side of the rock bridge, and began to descend the cliff face towards the Eastern gate of Dale. Undoubtedly they had been told not to question his authority, as he remained third in line to the throne, but perhaps more importantly under the threat of impending war, they likely didn't have the time to waste on worrying after one dwarf's whereabouts.

As his boots hit the rocky ground at the base of the mountain, he barely took a breath before continuing forward, focused only on reaching his secret place, the place that belonged to he and his love. In the dead of night, under cover of silence and shadow, many times they had ventured there to carry on their secret trysts. His heart swelled as he remembered tasting her lips beneath the stars, her pale skin glowing as she moved in the moonlight, his fingertips mapping the curves of her body while he dreamed of undressing her and claiming her flesh.

As usual, Tauriel was already waiting for him there, smiling in relief as she ran to meet him. But this was not another tender moment in which he would declare his love. It was a final goodbye, an attempt to save her, to convince her not to follow him to his death on the battleground. The Grey Wizard had persuaded the armies of elves and men to wait until dawn for their final audience with the mountain king, and when Thorin denied them what he'd promised them, Kili didn't want his lady elf anywhere near the ensuing skirmish.

"I've come only to release you from whatever obligations you feel towards me," he said sternly. "I don't require your assistance, nor would my kin welcome your presence in battle, even in such dire circumstances as these. I was hoping you might leave our lands this very night, and I wanted," he swallowed hard, biting back his emotions, "to see you one last time, and say goodbye."

"Why would you say this?" her brow furrowed in distress. "I cannot leave you to the enemy, knowing I send you to your grave. Even were you not outnumbered nearly three to one, your forces would be no match for Thranduil's army. Many of the Eldar are hundreds of years older than I. They have seen enough battle to fill ten of your lifetimes. At least, together, we have a fighting chance. I do not care what the others think, dwarves ...or elves."

He knew it was true. She had already been banished from the kingdom of her fathers, a punishment for polluting her heritage by way of the attachment that she so obviously felt towards a dwarf. The only way to keep her from a part in this loathsome war was to make her believe that his feelings for her had run cold. It would be the most vulgar and despicable falsity that he'd ever had to force from his mouth, but he needed to try, even though the very thought of it was making him nauseous.

"You and I," he kept his distance, working desperately to neutralize his expression, "we were only a fantasy. I see now that it was foolish to ...misinterpret, my infatuation with you as something more. I hope you can forgive me; I've seen little of the world."

He'd practically choked on the words as he spoke them, and they left a foul and bitter taste to fester in his throat, but he knew that it would take even more to convince her.

"So you will simply stop loving me now," she challenged, "after everything that has happened, after all we have shared?"

"I would change it all if I could," he continued his ruse, "go back and strike myself from your memory. I would leave you to the path that your kin had lain out for you, leave you warm, and safe."

"And unfulfilled?" she took a step towards him.

"That first moment," he took her hand, "when our eyes met in the wood, is a moment that I've stolen. It was never supposed to happen. I have pilfered your love and your destiny, like a greedy thief in the night."

"You have taken nothing but what I gave you freely," she returned pointedly. "Do not paint me a helpless maiden who has been taken in by your charms. My destiny is my own, and I choose with whom I allow it to intertwine."

"And intertwine with you I would," sadness crept across his features, "were you mine to do with what I wanted. But our story is not a romance set to music. It's a tragedy spiraling towards a finale of cold steel, flaming arrows, blood, and pain. You cannot save me; you must let me go," he begged. "Return to the forest, and bury the memory of my affection, so deep that even you lose sight of it with time."

"I cannot bury what will haunt me, even lodged in the frozen ground. I would rather leave this world by your side," she gazed penetratingly into his eyes, "than face an eternity of hollowness and doubt, never forgetting what could have been."

"Look what I've done to you!" he stepped away from her, shaking with the power of his own malicious words. "I have turned a strong and magnificent creature into the lap dog of a lesser man! My soul may burn for you, but I leave it to the mercy of your flames. The end that Aule has set for me will earn me a special place in hell!"

"Make no mistake," she roared in defiance, "it is me that you burn!"

"My ardor, my lady," he purred with a vicious tone, "could reach one thousand degrees, and still it would not match the heat that flows from every inch of you. Your touch serves to scar me, your lips to destroy me, and were I to surrender to your greater temptations, I've no doubt my heart would be charred into ashes."

She floated across the ground toward him with the same ethereal grace that had always bewitched him, until she was close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

"You know nothing of temptation, my glorious prince, until you have seen the sparkle in your own chocolate eyes."

Unable to hold back, his mouth crashed into hers hard, moving against her with an almost violent strength. But after just a few fleeting moments of surrender, he had regained his senses, and again pushed her away.

"Leave me!" he growled, in an attempt to goad her into deserting him. "The devotion I bore you was a vile and odious lie! I desired you as a man desires the company of a whore! Go now, mount your mare, and ride as fast and as far as you can. Fly away from here, and don't ever turn around!"

"I don't believe you," she closed the distance his wandering footsteps had created.

"You may doubt me, maiden, but leave me in peace. I have no need of your sweet words, nor appetite for your comfort."

"You are lying!" her features distorted in misery.

"Understand, elf! I do not...!"

He steeled himself with all his might, and tried again to force it out.

"I... do not..."

I do not love you. It repeated again and again inside his head, but he was unable to will such venomous fiction to leave his tongue.

"You cannot make your lips," she smirked, "the lips that conspire with my own, loose a lie so insidious and damning to my ears."

His resolve was beginning to leave him, and she'd easily seen through his abhorrent facade. Before he could stop it, the truth was a deluge, streaming freely from his mouth.

"I've tried in every way I know how, to purge my passions for you, but they dwell in my bones. My blood, and every single cell, every pore, are saturated beyond reproach, with the love I feel for you. It will never die. But how can I allow you to follow me, my star, into the abyss of an accursed, evil war? I relinquish my sword, and my life to the cause. I will not take all that you have to give, and allow it to expire with this mortal shell."

"Then I will take all that you have, and more. Show me all your love, let it flow from you until it is spent, and empty yourself of the burdens you carry," she urged. "Allow me to hold them when you walk onto the battlefield."

He wanted to resist her, to refuse her what she craved, but her only desire was to ease his pain, and in those small hours, it was already overflowing. The moment that her fingers first moved across his lips, their bodies and souls had been destined to collide, as if their worship for eachother were itself a force of nature.

"If I let my hunger for you take me," his eyes drilled into her, a final warning, "I may feast upon your emotions, and your flesh, until there is nothing left to hold."

Secretly she hoped that his words were true. She ached for the unsettling comfort of oblivion. To use up her feelings until she was hollow, was to grant her a respite from the anguish of their insistence. If physically loving him could make her numb, it would be his last gift to her before he left this world.

"Hold nothing back," she whispered, taking his face in her hands. "...I want it all."

A maddening lust had taken root with her words, but Kili forced himself to retain composure, slipping the laces of her leather armor loose with all the care and respect a noble warrior deserves. But as her breast plate, then her bracers hit the ground, she placed her hands upon his shoulders and brought her lips to his ear. Just her breath caressing the sensitive skin at the side of his throat sent a shiver of anticipation up and down his spine, and when the next soft utterances left her tongue, he completely and entirely lost control.

"I said no holding back."

It was all that he needed. His restraint flew away on the icy breeze, and the deepest and most basic of instincts took over, bidding his hips and fingers and mouth to move in ways that would have made him blush just hours before. His hands slid up the sides of her thighs, underneath her tunic, and all the way to her waist, searching until they found the waistband of her leggings, then gripping it as she started to sway under his touch.

He dropped to his knees and gave a swift, urgent yank, pressing his fingertips against the bare skin above the fabric, and dragging them the rest of the way down her legs, along with the crinkled, then discarded garment. He gazed up at her with wide, voracious eyes, and with his hair wild and disheveled and his warm skin flushed, he looked primal, almost savage, as he sat back on his heels before slowly leaning forward to press his lips against her womanhood. His movements were unexpected, and when she felt his tongue, a loud and ardent whimper squeezed from her throat, driving him to even greater efforts.

Almost immediately, her knees began to buckle, but he held her around the backside to steady her frame, keeping her upright as he lapped and rubbed against all the right places while she gasped for breath. When he felt her start to tense and stiffen in his grasp, he slid his arms the rest of the way around her, supporting her entire weight as he nuzzled her harder until she cried out. Her legs began to tingle, her feet felt numb, and in the aftermath of such strong and mind-scrambling pleasure, she briefly lost control of her limbs.

He gently lowered her down to the ground, allowing her to settle in his loosened embrace as her heartbeat slowed, slumped against his chest. Her aroma filled his lungs, her slender fingers clung almost painfully to his shoulder, and the sound of each breath thrummed agonizingly through his ears, compelling him to please her in every way that was physically possible. He tilted her chin up to join their lips in a deep and vigorous kiss, slowly rocking forward and shifting their weight until he left her lying across the grass, peering up at him with an innocence that made him ache to touch her everywhere.

Hovering over her, he dipped down and ground obscenely against her hips, drawing a heated moan as she suffered the friction of his leather trousers across her pelvis. His hands slid up her ribs with a gratifying pressure, gliding over her heaving chest until they reached the ties of her velvety tunic and practically tore them loose in hunger. He peeled the cloth off of her and threw it aside, immediately assailing her senses with the fervor of his mouth upon her newly bared skin.

She was soft and supple, pale and perfect like untouched canvas, and something in him throbbed with the desire to feel her silky skin against his. He shrugged out of his jacket, and seconds later both his shirt and pants joined her clothing on the ground. Then he was pressing himself against her as he kissed her senseless, a heat burning through him like he'd never felt before. His palms followed tresses of her glossy hair down the length of her torso, before his fingers moved to the sweetest of places, plunging inside her to feel her quake as tremors of satisfaction wracked her body.

He moved in rhythm, brushing his lips against hers as he pushed, watching her eyelids flutter as she arched back, unable to control her own panting sighs. In a moment, she was burying a hand in his hair, clinging to him with all her strength as she rode out the peak. When she started to still and her labored breathing had calmed, he slowly began to stroke her with a light and doting touch. He tickled her delicate neck, running his thumbs across her collar bone, rubbing gently down her shoulders and forearms, before clasping one of her hands in his own and holding it tenderly against his chest.

"Hold onto me," he whispered, shifting her legs with his free hand.

Then he entered her as gradually and carefully as possible, moaning softly as he felt her warmth begin to envelope him. At first, he moved slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort while he planted his lips lovingly across her cheeks. But as she gave herself over to the ecstasy of their joining, her body slowly began to rock with him, and her grip across his back tightened, stirring an animalistic growl deep within his chest.

He lowered himself beside her, caressing her face, and gazing into her gorgeous eyes with an intense and visceral longing. Then after a few languorous, breathless kisses, he turned her away from him, wrapping his arms around her tight, and pressing inside her again from behind, causing a gasp to escape her throat. His fingertips spread across her hips pulling her down against him as he thrust impossibly deep, with insatiable friction that made her writhe under his grasp.

She reached back shakily, latching onto his side in the desperate need to anchor herself as exquisite pleasure pulsed in her core, surging through her like a tidal wave. His mouth left a trail of warmth at the nape of her neck, and he flattened his chest against her back, sliding his hands up to hold her closer as she finally came unbelievably hard, screaming his name between shallow breaths.

As soon as she finished convulsing, he helped her twist back towards him, letting his eyelids drop as her delicate palms caressed the sensitive shadows that covered his jaw. After a short rest, he sat up in the grass, pulling her upright to straddle his lap, smiling faintly against her milky flesh as he nuzzled her to inhale her intoxicating scent. He pressed his forehead against hers as he slid into her, the now familiar sensation of being filled so completely causing a ripple of rapture to wash over her.

Being inside her felt like being reborn, like dying in the profoundness of a humbling euphoria, and being brought back to life just by breathing her air. Before long, Kili was being drawn to the brink, and she followed him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and biting down as he cried out, barely able to breathe. They tumbled over the edge together, clutching eachother as he stroked her cheek. Then, for a moment, there was nothing else but her.

Under the blanket of a moonless night, the forest around them disappeared. No sound struck his ears, all he could feel was her touch, and the taste of her soft perfect lips made him weak, all thoughts of impending battle forced away to dissolve on the wind. She leaned back, and he followed her, never loosening his hold, resting his head against her chest to listen to the comforting hum of her steady heartbeat.

"It isn't fair," she whispered, breaking the silence as her fingers swept gingerly through his hair.

The tears that had been threatening her eyes overflowed, and he lifted his head to meet her gaze, kissing them away. He didn't have to ask her what wasn't fair. A sob hitched in his throat; he already knew the answer. Everything. To find eachother only to lose one another again, to plant the seeds of a lasting peace, only to the watch them disintegrate before they could grow, to give everything in an attempt to protect their lands, only for both of them to lose their homes: none of it was very fair.

But the most unjust and torturous thing of all, was that he now had to relinquish her devotion to the mercy of an infected and darkening world. Her love was so strong and deep that he could feel it around him, as if it were tangible. He couldn't fathom how he'd possibly find the will to walk away, and meet his death, knowing he was leaving her behind.

"Just remember," he said resolutely, as a single tear rolled down his cheek, "even when I am gone, I will always be watching over you. Just close your eyes, and you will find me. I will never let you walk alone."

They held eachother for a long time, both strengthened and destroyed by the intimacy they shared. And several times during the night, when his heart refilled painfully to the point of exploding, Kili poured out his love to her, body and soul, reconnecting with her physically again and again. Then, as the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, he stirred from an exhausting and troubled slumber, untangling their limbs to leave her side and silently begin gathering up his things.

"Where do you think you're going?" a familiar voice sounded over Kili's shoulder.

He was still lacing up the fly of his trousers, but his hands shifted up next to his chest in surrender when he felt a cold blade being pressed between his shoulders.

"I'm turning around," he said calmly, as he twisted in her direction, coming far too close to the nine inch dagger she held.

The elf had somehow managed to slip into her tunic behind him, without him even noticing that she'd awoken, and as he studied her stance for an indication of her intent, he briefly cursed her natural stealth. With him facing her, his intense eyes staring into her with purpose, her conviction wavered slightly, but her form remained impeccable.

"You won't hurt me, Tauriel," he prompted knowingly, testing her resolve by reaching toward her wrist.

But she wouldn't be swayed so easily, not when his life was on the line. She'd promised herself not to let him go, even if it meant she had to cause him a little pain. With lightning quick reflexes and perfect accuracy, she flicked her wrist to the side and flattened the blade, leaving a superficial but stinging wound sliced into the palm of his errant hand.

He drew in a sharp breath, but didn't flinch, only marginally surprised at her initial reaction. He knew she had intentionally left her mark across him shallow, and was still rather certain that she wouldn't allow herself to actually harm him.

"You know I need to go," he said resolutely. "The sun is already rising. I must return to my kin."

It broke his heart to have to make such a distinction. His kin. As if they belonged to him and she did not. But he couldn't deny that his place was amongst other dwarves, any more than she could deny that hers wasn't.

"I belong by your side," she insisted, as if having read his thoughts, still gripping both her daggers as she blocked his escape.

"I love you," he held her gaze with a blistering certitude, allowing his voice to drop to a whisper. "Please don't ask me to stand back and watch them die."

Her chin quivered at the worry and sorrow that filled his eyes; they both knew the truth that lay hidden beneath his haunting words. Next to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, Kili was the deadliest warrior amongst his company. Having mastered not only hand to hand combat, but also the sword, daggers, hammer, and bow, he alone would be a match for any of the elven soldiers. Without him, the dwarves stood even less of a chance.

"I have to go," he urged again anxiously, glancing between her and the rapidly brightening horizon. "The war horn could sound at any moment. I must fetch my armor."

Apprehension growing, he made a move for his shortsword, but instantly she was in front of him, this time pressing her sidearm to his throat. He was losing patience fast, as visions of his kin falling under elven arrows littered his head, but when he continued to push forward against her blade, he was met with a most unpleasant surprise. She did not yield.

Tauriel angled her weapon against his flesh, drawing a tiny rivulet of blood, and for a moment he was stricken into stillness. He reached up to feel a stream of wetness slide down to his chest, then held his fingers out in front of him, staring blankly at his own crimson plasma as it covered them.

"Amrâlimê?" he stared up at her in utter shock.

Her whole body shook, her breathing haggard as she pulled back, and when she saw the pain of betrayal in his eyes, a tear ran unbidden down her cheek.

"Do not test me, my love," she clenched her teeth, as an unfamiliar sting bloomed in the back of her throat. "You will not die today."

"Whether by your hand, an elven longsword, or the agony of watching my kinsmen fall," he said evenly, "I guarantee you that by sunset, I will have found my grave."

Salty droplets continued to overflow and streak her face. How could he assault her with such poisonous words? Her hands were quaking uncontrollably, but still she held her ground, and the rawness of her emotions on such consummate display only made her seem even more deadly and dangerous.

"Fili is up there right now without me," he raised an eyebrow softly, appealing to her tender side with concern for his only brother.

"And without you, he will stay," she forced out through trembling lips, clearly in misery at the thought of his demise.

Kili could see her confidence begin to unravel, and in a desperate attempt to obtain the upper hand, he reached for his sword again as quickly as he could. But as he straightened with it in his grasp, the air was forced violently from his lungs, and his whole body was propelled backward towards the rock wall with such force that it felt as though a hurricane had swallowed him. His shoulder connected with a dizzying thud against the stone, and he gasped, looking down to find a rusty stain blossoming across the front of his tattered shirt.

In the blink of an eye, Tauriel had thrown one of her daggers, expertly pinning him against the outcropping by his tunic, and managing to slice into his shoulder on the way. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide. Clearly she had not been planning to attack him with such fervor. But noting the slight fear and disbelief in his stare, she decide to use his apprehension to her advantage.

"I told you I would not let you go," she walked toward him, still clutching the other of her twin knives in her fist. "You cannot charge to your doom. I will not let it happen."

"And if I still refuse to stay behind?" he retorted angrily, squirming against the fabric in an attempt to tear himself free.

"Then," she blinked and inhaled a deep, sharp breath, "I will have to make sure that you are of no use in battle."

He knew it was nothing more than an empty threat; she was already quite upset about the tiny blow she'd accidentally dealt him. When she lifted her other dagger above his briefly incapacitated sword arm though, he still couldn't stop a jolt of terror from running through him. He yanked against his shirt again, trying to call her bluff, but when she raised her blade even higher and pointed it downward, all bets were off.

"Maiming me will not bring me back to you alive!" he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them when, thankfully, he didn't feel her steel. "But following me might," he added, suddenly calm.

He searched her eyes pleadingly, praying she would understand, and as the panic left her features, her remaining weapon hit the ground. She knew he was aware that she wouldn't have hurt him; he didn't have to say. And though her lips parted slowly, she remained silent and solemn as she extricated her decorative elven blade from the rock. If he wouldn't acquiesce to avoiding the battlefield, at least he would allow her to follow him there, and that was enough.