The Battle of the Five Armies, as they had begun to call it, had ended in a decisive victory for the dwarves, the elves, and the men of Esgaroth. Many lives had been taken that day, and he was thankful that none of the fallen were members of the Company. Thorin had taken up his duties as King Under the Mountain, and both he and Fili remained in Erebor at his side as word spread to Ered Luin that their quest had succeeded.
His mother, he was sure, would make the journey as soon as she heard the news, eager to see both sons and her brother. He was eager to see her as well, seeing as he had promised her that he would. He had also made another promise, but that one he had only half kept. Kili had seen Tauriel during the battle, but it had only been for a moment—he had soon answered his brother’s call to defend Thorin, who had been locked in a deadly struggle with Azog. The three of them had managed to kill the pale orc, and without a leader, his army fell apart.
As his kin celebrated their triumph, Kili’s mind roamed far away, wondering, hoping that she had made it out of the battle alright. She had seemed so when he had gotten a glimpse of her, but he knew now how quickly the tide could change—Thorin had nearly been at the orc’s mercy before he and Fili had gotten to him.
He sipped his ale away from the rest of the party, looking out over the newly repaired wall at the ruins of Dale.