Kili was dead.
Legolas couldn’t bare the thought.
He was too far away to do anything but close enough to watch as the sword was thrust through Kili.
The elf wanted to scream out in anguish but the words died in his mouth. He couldn’t motivate himself to walk over, to be with him, to cry over his body. The feeling of his heart shattering into a million pieces was enough, he didn’t want to make it worse.
Slowly he turned his back from the scene, meaning to walk away from this place forever, but something pulled him back.
The voice seemed to fade in and out with the wind.
It couldn’t be. But then he heard it again, louder this time.
The voice was hoarse and ragged.
“Kili?” Legolas jerked his body around to face where Kili’s body had been laying. He ran over there as fast as he could, gliding over the fallen snow.
The closer he got to Kili the clearer his voice was ringing out and Legolas could hear how desperate he sounded—desperate for him.
“Kili!” He yelled as he almost collapsed on the ground next to him. Somehow Kili was still alive even though he was lying in a pool of his own blood.
Legolas pressed his hand against Kili’s cheek and brushed some of the hair out of his face. Kili’s lips seemed to upturn in a weak smile.
“I wasn’t going to die without seeing you one last time,” Kili said.
Legolas felt tears threaten to fall from his face, “My father always warned me about the stubbornness of dwarves.”
Kili used what little strength he had left to grab Legolas’ hand and intertwined their fingers, “You kept your promise. Now I can part from this world knowing you loved me.”
Suddenly Legolas felt determined, “You’re not going to part from this world. You won’t be seeing the halls of Mandos yet.”
The elf repositioned himself so he was kneeling at Kili’s side and started chanting in elvish. He conjured up every healing cantation that had been taught to him by his mother and focused on getting Kili’s wound healed just enough so he could live long enough to receive medical attention. Normally the chant with his hands over the wound would be enough to heal him but his mother always told him that if he wanted someone truly healed he needed to incorporate love.
Legolas turned his attention away from the wound and locked eyes with Kili. He pushed himself slightly off the ground so he could reach across the dwarf. He hesitated slightly when he brought his head close to Kili’s, so close and yet so far.
He gently pressed his lips to Kili’s.
It was sweet and gentle and Legolas wanted so much for the dwarf to live so he could kiss him over and over.
Once Legolas pulled away he could see the pure joy and love in Kili’s eyes.
“True loves kiss?” Kili joked.
Legolas hoped that was a sign that his healing chantation worked.
“Let me go get help.”
“No!” Kili’s hand shot out and grabbed Legolas’ arm, making the elf stay where he was, “Don’t leave me. Promise?”
“I promise,” and Legolas stayed until sleep caught up with Kili.
Legolas stayed close to the tent that housed Kili’s sleeping body. He would be fine but his body was still adjusting to the elves magic. The waiting was agony. He spent days pacing back and forth outside of the tent, not allowing himself to go inside as if his presence could somehow make his slumber last longer.
The voice brought him out of his troubled thoughts.
The elf turned around and greeted the blond dwarf that called out to him.
“Fili. I’m glad to see you’re well,” Legolas was almost afraid of Fili. He had no idea how the dwarf would respond to the feelings he harbored for his brother and he had no idea if Fili hated elves as much as his uncle.
Fili gave him a nod, “I wanted to thank you. For saving my brother’s life.”
Legolas swallowed thickly, “It was nothing.”
Fili stared at him like he knew Legolas wasn’t telling the whole truth.
“It was more than that,” there was a silence between the two of them, “It was love that saved my brother’s life. You can pretend it wasn’t and lie to your father and my uncle but I know the truth.”
“And how would you know that?” Legolas asked.
There was silence from the dwarf for awhile as he debated his response. At last his lips tugged up into a smile and his eyes softened, “Tauriel.”
The next day Kili finally woke up and Legolas was right there by his side as the dwarf blinked his eyes open.
“I kept my promise. I didn’t leave you.”
“You’re good at that, keeping promises,” said Kili.
Legolas put his hand in his pouch and pulled out the runestone that Kili had given him so long before, “Turns out this thing really works.”
Kili put his hand over Legolas’ and closed the elf’s hand around the stone, “Will you keep holding onto it? It’ll be a promise that we’ll stay together.”
Legolas nodded his head but didn’t move his hand for he liked the feeling of Kili’s rough hand against his, “I’ll keep it forever.”
And it was a promise.