When Kíli woke after the battle of five armies he instantly wished he hadn't opened his eyes and regained consciousness. Everything hurt. His head felt like somebody had dropped a rock on it, his chest hurt, he vaguely remembered being pierced by a blade before blacking out, his limbs hurt and even thinking hurt.

He would have gladly died. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was actually alive until he heard somebody calling his name. It was a nice voice. Friendly and somehow familiar.

The dwarf tried to turn his head but pain shot through his body and a groan escaped his lips.

Suddenly, his vision was filled with red. Masses and masses of red hair were hovering above his face and somewhere in the mess he saw green eyes, filling with relief.

Tauriel. Right. He was dead. If she was here he must be somewhere in the afterlife. But why did death hurt so much?

"Am I dead?" he croaked feebly.

He was surprised to see a faint smile tugging at the elf's lips.

"No. You're brother was right. You're to stubborn to die."

The smile he attempted didn't turn out quite the way he wanted to and turned into mask of barely disguised agony.

"What…?" He needed to know what happened. There was the battle, people dying everywhere, Thorin falling, Fíli and he defending their uncle's body and then pain, endless, raging pain and suddenly nothing.

"The battle is won but our armies suffered great losses. I though I had lost you…" she whispered. The relief left her eyes and was replaced by a distant shimmer of pain. Kíli tried to reach her hand and was glad when she noticed and stopped him from moving by placing her slender palm over his rough and probably very bruised one.

"Your brother is okay. We found him next to your uncle's body. He had taken a very bad blow to the head and some nasty flesh wounds but nothing that can't be healed."

She noted the relief that seemed to set over Kíli's body.

"The others?" He knew speaking wasn't the best idea at the moment but he needed to know. Even though he dreaded her answer.

"Thorin Oakenshield was recovered from the battle field but I'm afraid there was nothing we could do. He died two days ago."

The pain following the gentle words was nothing he had anticipated. While he was well aware of the fact that his uncle's survival had been unlikely, the reality of his death hit him hard and made him forget his own pain for a moment.

Tauriel squeezed his hand and unconsciously started rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand.

"Gandalf tried to safe him but nothing could be done. I think, in the end, he was glad to go. He would have been very proud of you. Both of you. I am so sorry for what you have lost" she whispered.

Kíli fell asleep soon afterwards and it took him two more days to regain full consciousness. While the pain was a little less than the last time, he still felt torn and broken, yet he tried to sit up.

This time there was no elf by his side and his surroundings seemed very dark. Night, he concluded. Obvious. Gathering all his strength he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and immediately regretted to movement. The pained gasp alerted the sleeping figure opposite him.

"Kíli?"

The dwarf could have wept with joy. His brother was alive and well and there.

A moment later a lantern was lit and his brother moved towards him.

"We though we were going to loose you."

Kíli could see tears in his brother's eyes and tried hard to put on a brave face.

"Well, you won't get rid of me that easily!" he said, hoping to put a smile on his brother's face.

"Don't say something like this! You were out for almost three days. Tauriel said you woke once and since then you have been sleeping."

"Is she here?"

Fíli wasn't sure if he should be annoyed by his brother's choice of priorities but decided that in the light of recent events he could let it slip.

"She's speaking to Gandalf, I think. Something about your healing process?"

Kíli seemed satisfied with that answer.

"And… " he wasn't sure if he could ask for his uncle just now. Fíli seemed to understand.

"We had to bury him. I'm sorry."

The older dwarf hated to see the sadness on his brother's face but with the weather and the condition the body had been in, it was the only thing they could do to let Thorin rest in peace. He would have liked to hug his brother to ease the pain but he knew that he would only cause more. Tauriel had spoken to him earlier that day and warned him that the wounds were not healing as well as they should. She suspected it had something to do with that blasted Morgul arrow Kíli had been shot with when they escaped Mirkwood. It seemed like something from another life.

Kíli didn't know what to say. He was a little disappointed that his uncle had already been buried but he knew that it was probably the reasonable thing to do. Before he could say anything else, his brother was pressing a cup of water into his hands.

"Drink."

Kíli obeyed and was somewhat glad for the opportunity to hide his teary eyes behind something. The silence was comforting.

Fíli, however, couldn't enjoy the calm much. He knew it was treacherous and he was painfully aware of the need to tell his brother about his condition. Before he could do so, however, a small creature hurried into the tent.

Kíli managed a smile at the hobbit, who squeaked in delight when he saw the youngest of the company had finally woken up.

"How are you feeling, Master Kíli?"

"Like I went to hell and back."

The smile on the hobbit's face fell a little and he turned to face Fíli.

"Have you…"

A subtle shake of the head shut the halfling up.

Bilbo cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Fíli… why don't you pop out and search for Gandalf? I'm sure he'd like to know how Kíli is faring."

With one last glace at his brother the blond dwarf left, but not before gently squeezing Kíli' shoulder.

"How are you, then, Master Burglar?" Kíli managed with a true smile.

Bilbo shrugged. "Oh… I'm quite alright. Bit sad, I'd say. And ready to go home!"

Kíli managed a small chuckle before drawing in a sharp breath.

"Oh, you should rest!" Bilbo exclaimed franticly.

"I've been resting for the past… what, five days!" Kíli protested but he was beginning to feel dizzy and he had a feeling a wound may have been opened by his movements. Bilbo took the cup from his shaking hands and helped Kíli putting his legs back to the bed. Before he could lower himself down completely, the entrance swung open once again and the tall figures of an elf and a wizard came in, closely followed by Fíli.

"Ah, Kíli!" Gandalf said, his tone friendly and a little relieved.

The last thing Kíli remembered before sinking back into his bed was the look of panic on the elf's face.