So, I've been listening to Down by Jay Sean and reading some sad fics about Thorin and soforth. And this came up. Just a small little something on Thorin's thoughts on his nephews and himself before he died. I'll be updating A Brothers love and My Demon later on tonight!
Now, I'm off to get some tissue and watch The Hobbit and assure myself that Thorin, Fili and Kili are alive (for now).
Disclaimer: I don't own them, otherwise I would have let them all live!
Thorin collapse on the icy ground, he coughed bringing blood up, it dribbled a little past his lips. His gaze on the sky above him, Azog was dead. This time he knew it for sure. But at what price? His beloved nephews laid in the tower behind him, cold and lifeless. Thorin's heart ached at the thought of their deaths, so young, so so young. They didn't deserve this, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to die, this he had come to terms with before they left the mountain to join the armies below.
The day Smaug came, the day Erebor fell. As they ran from their home, he remembers stopping on the hill and looking back, he knew then he'd die on the day he came back for his Kingdom.
But his nephews, no, they were supposed to live. To take his place when he fell, to ensure their line continued now and forever on.
Thorin closed his eyes and saw the sword that killed Fili, he could hear his brothers screams. His own cry of agony as he watched his heir be thrown like a piece of trash from the tower, the sickening thud his body made as it met with the ground. He could remember Kili's loud cry of pain, the fear it brought to him. And the silence that followed. He knew in that moment his heirs, his sister's sons, his most beloved nephews, were no more.
He charged at Azog, the grief settling heavily in his heart, in that moment he cared nothing for himself, his thoughts still clouded on the dwarves he raised as his own sons.
With Azog's sword above him, he knew what he needed to do. He let go, the pain that came couldn't compare to the pain he felt in his heart. And for a moment he could see Kili's big smile and his contagious grin, he could see Fili rolling his eyes at his brother a smile planted firmly on his lips. Then he saw two young dwarflings staring up at him with big eyes, one set of blue and the other brown. Grins on their faces and shouts of "Uncle!" and "Uncle 'orin!" filling his ears.
And then all he could see was Azog's triumphant look and smirk thinking he'd won. With a loud cry he brought his own sword up, the look of shock on the pale orcs face brought Thorin a sense of smugness.
"Ishkh khakfe andu null!"
With that Azog stumbled back and fell off the cliff.
Thorin stood in disbelief, after so long, so much death. It was over. His home was safe, his people would return and Erebor would be great once again.
And then time caught up to him, Thorin collapse, his sword clattering to the ground as he fell onto his back. He stifled a groan of pain from his wound, his blood flowed out steadily, he knew this was the end. He sent a prayer to his sister asking for her forgiveness. He couldn't protect her sons.
Bilbo rushed over, his hands on his wound trying to stop the blood flow.
"You'll be fine, Thorin, you'll be okay."
Thorin looked to the hobbit, their burgler, and knew everything he ever thought or said about this hobbit was wrong. He considered him a friend, a beloved friend.
"Bilbo, it is over." He gave him a sad smile, content with this knowledge.
"No! You'll be fine, you just need a healer. Yes, a healer!" Bilbo shook his head back and forth, tears coming to his eyes.
"I was wrong about you Master Hobbit, I hope you can forgive my harsh actions and words. I did not mean them." Thorin coughed then wheezed at the sharp pain that came.
"I would've doubt me too, there's nothing to forgive Thorin." Sadness etched on Bilbo's face for he knew Thorin was dying and there was nothing that could be done. Except be there for him in his last moments.
Thorin looked to Bilbo with a sad smile on his face "Go back to your fireplace, your books, and your garden Bilbo. May you forever find peace in them, my friend."
"Thorin!" Bilbo cried.
Thorin with the last of his strength reached up to the hobbit and gently touched his face, "If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."
He took in another strained, pain-filled breath and let it out. And then his hand slipped from Bilbo's face, his eyes staring lifelessly at the sky.
Bilbo caught it and gently laid it on Thorin's stilled chest, he reached up and closed his eyes. Tears filling his own, "Goodbye my friend, I shall never forget you."
With the death of Thorin Oakenshield, the true King Under the Mountain, and the death of his beloved nephews, Fili and Kili, sons of Dis.
The line of Durin was once and for all, over.
Ugh, I hate writing his death. It always made me tear up!