A/N: So it finally came to me. I am actually more at peace with my feels after getting it out, in all of its anguish-oh, my darling Durins. WHY? WHY MUST THIS BE? Anyway, I hope that it is satisfying, if not enjoyable.

Furthermore, it is dedicated to the lovely Mythopoeia, who beat me to the punch with her ABSOLUTELY heartwrenching and beautiful, terrible fic "Run"-go read it at once!-and I hope she is pleased by my humble attempt.

Without further ado...

He feels it, first in his heart, then in the stone, and he only knows that Kili must not suspect—

Fili does not want to leave his brother, and he fixes his eyes on his brother's face, serious and warlike and yet so young.

He must remember Kili like this. He must remember what Kili looked like before he knew—

Kili believes him (Kili always believes him) and they go their separate ways, both into darkness, and Fili would weep if he were not a warrior, if he was not doing this for Kili.

(This is not to say that he does not fight. He fights and hopes and maybe, maybe, maybe—)

But there are too many and it had to end this way, didn't it? This a Mountain filled with gold and a valley filled with blood. There are prices, always prices, and he would rather be the one to pay them.

Even so, the price is heavy on his heart. He is a son of Durin and the King's Heir, and it is shameful, he thinks, to be dragged out like this, to be held up before his King (his uncle) and his brother—oh, Kili. Kili knows…

But Fili was not made for pride. His uncle asked for loyalty, for a willing heart, and he will give it—he is giving it now—because now is all he has left.

He wants to say that he is not afraid, although he is—wants to promise Kili that it will not hurt, not for very long (though his body stiffens, waiting for the pain)—

He wants to tell Kili he loves him, even though his brother knows (they have always known). He wants to tell Thorin to fight and rule and lead, to save himself, save Kili, save the ones who matter, the ones who can be saved—

He wants to say so much. Strange, for all his life, he has been the quiet one. He wants—

But it is over, nearly over, he can see the ending written in his uncle's anguished eyes—

It is over—he is afraid, and it will hurt, oh Mahal, it will hurt, and he loves them—

So he tells them to run.