IV.

The face staring up at him was pale, smeared with blood and grime, framed by sweaty and dirty dark hair, with blue eyes wide open…the life in them having faded. Kili whimpered, tightening his desperate hold on the bloodied blond hair an arm's length away. He pressed his ear against the chest of the still body, searching, hoping, praying for a heartbeat. The clamor of battle surrounded him, drowning out his pleadings to not be left alone, apologizing for not being in time. Only his thoughts overrode the cries, moans, and dizzying clashes of blades.

You failed him, again. Always have been a failure in his eyes. Here at the end you are a failure and alone, a dark voice mocked him.

"Please—" the plea was cut off by a sharp cry as sudden pain – who knew such blinding pain was possible? – pierced through him from head to toe. Choking on air and blood, the world spun…

Kili's body jerked as a terrified gasp escaped him, his eyes flying open and darting about wildly. His heart pounded in his ears.

"Kili?"

The sound of his name seemed far off and muffled. Yet some of the incomprehension in his dark eyes lessened as his gaze came to rest on a figure in a chair by the head of his cot. Slowly, the young dwarf frowned, uncertain. He dragged his eyes away to search his surroundings, this time taking in the white tent, the low lights, Fili asleep in the other cot. This was the infirmary tent, he realized - the same one he had woken up in before. But then…

Swiftly he looked back at the seated dwarf, practically wreathed in bandages, who was watching him carefully. There were the familiar high cheekbones and large nose (though bruised and pale), the same dark hair with grey streaks, the short beard, and the same intense, bright blue eyes. Kili's heart leapt to his throat.

"Thorin?" he rasped.

"Kili!" His uncle's face broke out in a relieved smile, cares and worries lifting away.

That smile confirmed all of Kili's growing fears, and his sight became blurry due to the tears rapidly welling up. Squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the sob that wished to escape, the dwarf turned his face away to the wall.

"Go away," the words came out in a low and strangled voice.

For a long moment all was still and silent.

"Kili…," the call was strained, pained.

"Please!" he begged. "I know yo—Thorin fell in battle, I saw him! When I woke up…they said he was gone. I've seen him, pale and lifeless, a ghost, in my dreams. Do not haunt me in the world of the living as well, please! Well I know of my failing—"

The rest of what he meant to say was forgotten at the feel of hair being dragged over his wrists. Inhaling deeply, Kili blinked against the tears until his vision cleared and dared to look. Thorin was now on the ground beside his cot facing him; meeting his nephew's gaze, he released the hair he'd laid over Kili's hands and folded his arms in front of his chest. An assortment of emotions filled his usually serious face which his nephew could not name. Yet something in his look matched Kili's whirling thoughts and the sense of suffocation dimmed a little.

For a moment he simply stared at Thorin's hair, noting its surprising softness. Releasing a shaky sigh, he curled his fingers around the long locks before separating the hair into three sections. Due to his and Thorin's positions, as well as his hands being bandaged, his work was slow and clumsy. But in the end he succeeded in plaiting a loose braid. And by the time he finished, he paid no mind to the new tears on his cheeks and lump in his throat, wide eyes shifting between the braid and Thorin's face.

"Uncle," his voice cracked, wonder underlying his tone.

Somehow, he found himself encompassed carefully in Thorin's arms; pressing into each other, they both freely wept. Clinging to the braid he'd done as though it was a lifeline, Kili saw his world slowly grow bright, despair replaced by joyful belief.

Uncle is alive! We all are! And he smiled, burying his face in Thorin's tunic.

THE END

Author's Note: -blows nose- Tissues anyone? -offers tissue box-