2Brief Note: I didn't like the movies version of their deaths, I thought they were to apart and separated; and I didn't like that they didn't die as a family (which is very important for dwarrow.)
Disclaimer: I do not own the hobbit or anything that belongs to the Tolkien Estate... just like writing about it...XD...and why would I be writing on fanfiction if I was the owner anyway?
Apart; though not Forever:
The scream shattered through the air in a desperate plea for fates mercy. It was a scream of lose, a scream of injustice, a scream of a brother losing a brother.
They were never meant to be separated, not when they were still young dwarflings roaming the woods near Belegost in the Ered Luin; surely not on the battle field and in death.
The body, yet breathing, lay sprawled on the king's limp form; where the spear was cowardly plunged through his back. Even in his dying moments Thorin's' nephew wouldn't dare to leave his side. Protect the king, protect his uncle. The dwarf that never ceased to protect them in their childhood, that taught them the way to fight, the way of the forge, and the way of a kingdom though in Exile. Kili would die here as a young dwarrow than rather face a long life knowing he did not do all to protect the one who always protected them.
Fili was too far away to reach him in time, always too far to protect his little brother. His carefree, spirited elf-like dwarf, who grew up so quickly in the span of the last year. He watched as Thorin fell to multiple arrow wounds, he watched as he was brought to his knees and finally collapsed. He saw his brothers struggles renew in vigor, if only for a brief moment. The rocky plain was littered with the bodies of the orcs felled by his brother. Fili watched as the struggle became too much; as his steps faltered and his sword arm lowered marginally. He was racing, but too slow, the orcs in his way finding a swift end to their miserable existence. Fili was shouting even before he fell, his blonde hair streaming past his face as he strove to cross those last few, fateful yards separating them.
It was too late. The arrow flew into Fili's shoulder, anther to his side. He fell, slowing his desperate race. Fili scrambled back up, he needed to make it to Kili. Kili needed him, he promised he would never leave him. Fili watched, as he was too late, the spear that drove into Kili's back; through the hard steel of his chainmail, into his ribcage and out his chest. He watched as his little brother fell to his knees, gasping for breath; a shocked look with dazed eyes. Kili saw Fili and a tear fell to the marred ground. With his last strength Kili pulled his sword up to ward off the remaining orcs blade; before the blade slipped from his bloody fingers onto the stones. Kili fell back onto his legs, still kneeling. He fingered the spear delicately before a last sword was rammed, unforgivingly, into his stomach.
Kili fell onto Thorin's body, providing what last protection he could give his king.
Fili screamed such a cry that has never before been reached in such desperation. His pain forgotten, his enemies behind. His brother was fallen. Sweet, young Kili. With a sob, Fili threw himself to his limp form still sprawled across Thorin's back. The life had left Thorin's eyes mere moments after Kili's fall. His sister's sons demise was too much upon his already torn soul.
Fili pulled Kili from Thorin and cradled him into his arms, much like he had done in the Ered Luin during a nightmare or storm. Fili could already see Kili fading, his eyes wandering afar. Immediately becoming oblivious to his surroundings, ignoring the advancing orcs. His brother needed him, that's where he'd be.
The brother pressed the other closer, their foreheads touching in embrace. The older one pushed away the youngers raven locks, always so full and unadorned, now matted down and dull; to look clearly into his face one last time.
"I'm sorry… brother" Kili gasped, coughing blood and dirt to his lips, struggling against the pain and unconsciousness, "I couldn't save uncle, I failed this quest… mom, moth…"
His breath shook into uncontrollable heaves as his lungs started failing him." I promised… Fili I pro…d her, I…"
Fili shook his head in bitter agony, braids swinging in denial, "No! No, mom would not be disappointed brother! You never failed, your too good to fail little b…!"
Fili tried to finish with a light smile, his heart couldn't allow it; he started shaking his head, trying to be strong for his brother and not let the tears fall. If he started now, he doubted they would stop. His voice broke in a low whisper, "I…I failed you."
Kili's eyes went wide and he gasped for words, struggling against his bodies rigid convulsions. He could not cough out words, his lungs collapsing, his last breaths ragged. His eyes never strayed from his brothers as he gave up his last moments to reassure the one dearest to his heart, Kili whispered adamantly "No, no… you did not fail."
The young brothers body went limp, his head falling to the side; hand falling from its previous grasp on a brother's arm bracer.
Fili bowed his head and a sharp keen escaped from his throat; he knelt there rocking their bodies in a soft lullaby of anguish. His soul became torn, falling and clenching and tearing, too full, too squeezed to hold back the storm that it carried. His head flew back with a rough sob and howl to the unforgiving grey sky. Death, a day of death.
His sobs wrecked the air, scattering the few orcs daring to encounter his raw grief.
Arrows pierced his back, still holding his little brother; Fili did not feel them, his soul was already wandering to his brothers.
So lost was he that Fili didn't notice, nor care, when the saber came barreling down on him. He had come home.
They were laid together in the heart of the mountain; in a cold stone tomb where their lives would be carved and painted on the walls and in stories in the days to come. Rarely separated in life, never again now in death. The mountain will forever remember these young sons of Durin.
FINIOR
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