Legolas. Of course. Kili knew he ought to be grateful, and on some level he imagined that he was, but it was difficult not to show his consternation. The Elf prince was always there, somehow, lurking right over Tauriel's shoulder like a nursemaid or jilted lover—

Ah. Kili quickly ducked his head and bit against the smile that wanted to make an entirely inappropriate appearance. They were talking about Orcs and death and very serious matters; this wasn't a time for smiling.

"I'm glad he was there," he said, and cleared his throat. Schooling his expression, he tipped a look back up to her. "I'm glad that you're not...you know."

It was so easy to think of himself as dead, but for her he couldn't say it, couldn't let himself even consider its possibility.

"But I'm sorry that you were injured on my account. I would never wish that for you."