Bonjour readers! It's a below-zero-degree day in freezing Minnesota and I've decided to write my first Oneshot! I hope you read and review. You guys are the best! Thanks!
Enjoy!
You may despise me, you may hate me. That's not what matters, though. What matters is that I will come for you. When you least expect it, when you are waiting for me, when you know it will happen. Many people have tried to cheat me, but that never works. Ever. I am always lurking in the dark.
The fate of humanity lies on my shoulders. I decide. Will you live? Will you die? That's my choice.
You may be asking yourself when you will ever meet me. Am I someone in the crowd? Someone standing near by? Someone you pass by? I choose.
I am possessive. I am greedy. I am fate. I am dramatic. I am picky. I am Death.
I swept over the bloody battlefield. What a fight! So many souls to me. I saw dwarves, men, and elves all working together; something I thought that I would never see. They charged as one, eagles flying overhead. Swords clanged, arrows flew, axes swished, claws fought. Many were taken down, fighting for their home, for loyalty, for me.
I loomed over the combat, taking the dead along with me. I was greedy; I wanted slaughter. I was pleased. My place is here.
Yet something made my head turn away from the center of the bloody battle. A lone dwarf stood atop the hill, staring at his enemy. The wind whipped around him, tearing at his wounds, but the dwarf stood his ground as the Pale Orc turned. The King Under the Mountain gripped his sword tighter.
The Pale Orc grinned, hoping for blood. The death of a Durin. I hoped so too. Thorin raised his sword and charged. He ran right past me, brushing at my cloak. He knew that he would meet me soon, as did I. Thorin bellowed a battle cry as he ran for Azog and his warg.
The orc was ready for him. I hungrily licked my lips as the orc raised his mace. Azog and his warg leapt forward to the oncoming dwarf, knowing that one of them would be going to me that day.
Thorin swung his sword toward the orc, trying to get his weak spot, the left hand. Azog knew that he would. Leaping off his warg, the orc spun onto Thorin, swinging that mace. He blew the attack away. Thorin would not be defined so easily, though.
Re-gripping his sword, Thorin plunged his sword into Azog's right arm. The orc howled, not wanting to lose his other hand as well. I was surprised. He swatted the king away. Raging, the orc swung his mace, hitting the king in his side.
Thorin cried out as he was knocked off of his feet. I was ready to get him. I reached out for him, but he pushed me away. Clutching his side, Thorin slowly raised himself to his feet, ignoring me.
"It takes more than that to kill a Durin," the king hissed to Azog.
Standing his ground, Thorin Oakenshield advanced on the orc. I could hear the sword swishing as he slit the side of Azog's right. Not enough to spill enough blood to please the king, but enough to enrage the orc.
The orc, weak on the right, swung that spiked mace toward Thorin. I was so touched when I saw my own name engraved on that deadly mace. The king was ready for that attack. He leapt out of the way.
"I must say, Thorin Oakenshield," Azog hissed. "You are just a bit harder to kill than your grandfather." The king did not falter one bit as those words hit him. It only gave him more power.
Throughout the whole battle, I decided to stay on this one.
The king leapt for the orc and stabbed his sword through Azog's shoulder. The orc screamed as the sword plunged. I could smell the blood, oh how I needed blood. The orc threw Thorin to the ground as he pulled the silver sword from his shoulder. I held my breath, wondering who would die.
Blood started to seep from the hole in the orc's shoulder as he raised his mace yet again. The king on the ground frantically reached for his sword but was not fast enough. Even I winced as the mace striked its mark into Thorin's chest. His howl could be heard for miles around.
I watched, fascinated, as Azog's face grew a cruel smile. He brought his truncheon up for the final kill. I leaned in, waiting to take a soul. Before the mace could hit it's mark, it was stopped by two swords. I hissed and leaned over to see who had saved the king's life. It was a blond dwarf, determination in his crystal blue eyes. A corrupt smile grew upon my face. Another Durin.
I greedily watched as the young Durin swung his twin swords forward, knocking the mace away from Thorin. Azog looked surprised but pleased.
"Fili," Thorin gasped as he watched his nephew charge Azog. Fili leapt back as the orc advanced, wanting blood.
"Don't think I'm undefeatable! I will kill every last Durin if I have to," Azog hissed as Fili expertly dodged his spiked mace.
I watched as the blond ignored the comment and slashed at Azog, catching him on his side. Blood spurted from the wound, but the Pale Orc ignored it.
Fili swiped his two swords towards the beast, directing him backwards, away from Thorin. Azog saw that and grinned.
"Trying to spare the life of your pathetic king, I see," Azog cackled as he drove the mace into Fili's leg. The dwarf fell to the ground in pain.
Azog turned away from the dwarf and back to Thorin. He sauntered back to the king.
"And now, dear Thorin, its time for you to finally meet your end." Azog raised his mace for the final blow, the final kill. Thorin cringed, knowing he couldn't stop it in any way. The mace hit the chest.
Azog smiled cruelly and brought his mace away from the dying dwarf but was shocked to see that it was not Thorin that he hit, but the blonde.
"Not the life of my king, the life of my uncle," Fili gasped as he tried to clutch his chest.
That was when I knew that I would be bringing not just one Durin with me that day.
"Fili, no," Thorin gasped as he saw his nephew crumple to the ground beside him.
Azog turned away from the pair, knowing that they would be dead within minutes.
I felt an arrow whiz past me and into the leg of the orc. He howled and turned to see the last Durin standing behind his brother and uncle.
Kili, bow notched, fired another arrow. This one hit Azog in the stomach. He shrieked as it plunged in.
Gasping for breath, the orc slowly pulled the arrow out. He staggered over to his warg and climbed on, still clutching his stomach.
Threateningly staring at the last Durin, Azog the Defiler and his warg leapt for Kili, jumping over the dying Fili and Thorin.
Kili staggered back, marking another arrow towards Azog. This time he was ready, though.
I watched, fascinated, as Azog leapt off his warg, letting the arrow shoot by where he was sitting. Together, he and the warg slowly stalked towards the archer.
"Aha. The last Durin," Azog scoffed.
Kili held himself high, "it takes more than you to kill a Durin."
Azog cackled. "Precisely what your uncle said." And with that, his warg leapt for Kili, teeth digging into his side and chest. At the same time, the archer managed to shoot his last arrow, hitting Azog in the chest.
Both fell. The warg tossed Kili and ran off.
The dying dwarf managed to slowly drag himself over to his family.
"Kili?" Fili gasped on his dying breath, his hand caked with blood reaching out to his brother.
"I'm here, Fee," Kili croaked. "Uncle?"
Thorin was gone. His last breaths were taken from him. I was about to reach out and take him, but waited for the others to join him.
"I'm sorry, Kee. Sorry I couldn't be a better brother to you. Sorry you are dying as I am." Fili choked out.
"Fee?" Kili reached out for his brother, grasping his hand. But by the time their hands met, Fili's was cold, dead.
Kili gasped as he saw the breath leave his brother's body. I watched as a young blonde elf ran up the hill to the dying archer.
The elf kneeled down in front of Kili. Kili, eyesight going blurry, looked up. He gasped his last breath.
"S-Sorry," he croaked, fading to nothing. The blonde elf bowed his head to the three dead Durins.
"Lothron neth faers idh ned sidh urieb," the elf whispered, a final goodbye.
Sadly turning away, Legolas saw the Pale Orc on the ground, breathing shallowly. Anger flooded his mind when he saw Azog still alive. Quickly notching his silver bow, Legolas shot the orc out of his misery, Azog was finally gone.
As the elf left, I sat there. I didn't know what to do. This was the first time in millions of years that I had a feeling of sorrow. I was sad to see the heirs of Erebor dead.
Normally, I would pick the soul up and carry them with no care, but today was different. That day, I gently picked up the kings, still holding hands, and took them to where they belong. Worshiped.
As I flew away with the three Durins cradled in my arms, I took one long look at Azog lying dead on the ground. I wouldn't be coming back for him.
I gently flew up into the sky with Thorin, Fili, and Kili in my arms. When I took my last look down below, I saw everyone. Dwarves, men, eagles, wizards, elves, all looking up. All mourning for the kings. All wishing them a last goodbye.
And for once, the first and last time, I smiled.
You must never forget those lost, dear readers. We should always remember. Worship and cherish the souls of the beloved. We go around in our normal lives forgetting the ones lost.
Never forget. Remember.
You may probably now be thinking that I, Death, am a softie. That I mourn for every soul I take. Wrong.
I mourn for the brave and loyal. For the good ones.
Be good, world.
And there you have it, dear readers! My first Oneshot! I hoped you like it and review! I know that it didn't follow the story of the book, but I wrote it from the heart.
You guys are the best! Thanks!