Curses flowed through my lips in a constant stream as I killed yet another Orc. The battle field was chaos. Orcs, Goblins, and Wargs against Men, Elves and Dwarves. The allied army of Dwarves, Elves and Men were badly outnumbered by the enemy that rushed over the land like a river of death. I was doing my best, my two swords in hand as I cut through as many as I could but they just kept coming!
The madness around me didn't disorient me too bad as I fought like a wild cat, even tho I did not realize that I was unwittingly pushed into the valley until it was too late. I cursed vehemently under my breath at my luck. I could not possibly be in a location that was any worse. Elves, Dwarves, and Men all mingled together, locked in the most intense battles against the goblin army
The battle ground was a cacophony of screams and clashing sounds from metal striking heavily against metal. The horrid stench of blood was inescapable, especially when trapped between the throngs of fighting against the never ending waves of Goblins, Orcs and Wargs. Some Orcs were even throwing rocks at us to try and crush or injure as many as possible.
Looking around quickly, I spotted the cliffs of the Southern spur looming above the fighting crowd, atop which the Elven king and the Elven archers were firing volleys of arrows at their foes. Just as I was about to gather my wits to throw myself back into the fray, a loud thundering roar sounded from above, startled I looked up and all those around me looked up as well.
To my horror and to the dismay of my allies, a fresh wave of Orcs had appeared to join the battle and they were so numerous that from a distance, they looked like a menacing swarm of swirling black mass. They had descended along the northern ridges of the mountain, recklessly streaming down to rain fresh hell on the armies below.
The Elves and Men, whose spirits were high just moments ago from their quick work against their foes, were quickly surrounded and all hopes for victory evaporated in an instance. Thranduil and his group of archers tried valiantly to defend their position, which gained him a brownie point in my mind but they were slowly losing ground to the onslaught of attacks. With the Southern spur being overrun by the advancing Goblin cavalry, my plan's to find the others were dashed to pieces and my heart sank at the foreboding thought.
Shaking my head firmly I roared orders to the Men, Elves and Dwarves nearest and furiously slew any enemy in my path. They hesitated at first, not knowing the crazy woman in front of them fighting like a hell demon but I believed they thought better to do as I said instead of telling me no. Fighting quickly and running with all my might to any bunch of allies that looked like they needed a hand I yelled till I was hoarse and even then kept yelling encouragement, threats the the enemy and orders as the others gathered their fleeting courage and fought once more with greater ferocity.
I looked up in time to see a section of the barricade by Erebor's front gate come crashing down in a deafening crack, kicking up a large cloud of dust and debris. With a mighty chorus of battle cries that resonated across the valley, Thorin and his Company of Dwarves charged majestically from behind the lowered barricade and into the fray of battle. The Dwarves had all discarded their travel-worn cloaks to replace them with spectacular pieces of glittering Dwarven armor, no doubt salvaged from the treasure horde. Ruthlessly, they cut into any enemy that stood before them with Thorin at the front of the charge, swinging his deadly battle ax in powerful strikes.
One by one, Wargs and Orcs alike fell to their mighty blows and once their immediate area was cleared, Thorin raised his voice to shout at the army of Men, Dwarves, and Elves to reach for him. Meanwhile, Orcs from above the mountain were continuously pelting rocks at the newcomers to the battle but luckily, Thorin and his company managed to escape unscathed. Pride swelled in me at the sight of the King under the Mountain, but I also felt a deep pang of pain, sadness, and residual anger. We had not parted on good terms at all but I hoped that one day, the Dwarf would understand my reasons for giving the Arkenstone to Bard.
But he wouldn't understand if we were both dead!
An Orc rider barreled towards me, and I jumped to the side, blocking the strike and dodging teeth. "Right, I could lament all I wanted after escaping from this valley of hellish death and pain!"
Right now, I needed to know where the Company had gone and saw the Warg was about to bite my head off. Whipping my blades into a blur of attacks the Warg's head flew off as it's rider split in half at the waist. Urgently looking around again, I saw the surge of Elves, Dwarves and Men who heeded Thorin's call, and quickly followed.
I reached the narrow neck of the valley with relative ease, but before I could continue forward, I heard battle cries from a pair of familiar voices. I turned around to see who was in trouble and sure enough, I spotted Ori and Bofur being pressed on all sides and valiantly fighting to escape. "They must have separated from the rest of the Dwarves" I realized and without any hesitation, I raised my blades and charged towards my friends to help. "The Dwarves might not like me for what I had done, but I definitely do not return their sentiments!"
A blur of red and silver death, I hacked through the enemy like they were paper, my fear for my friends putting extra power behind my blows as I desperately tried to reach the two Dwarves before they were overwhelmed.
My breath was coming out in gasps, my lungs felt as if I was breathing flames and my heart was pounding through my chest but I did not dare to stop or slow down. My blades and clothes were being smothered under the thick coat of black Orc blood, but I didn't notice as I continued to drive forward relentlessly until I slid to a stop behind a spear-wielding goblin who had taken aim at Bofur's unprotected back. Using both swords, I struck swinging both blades towards the Orc in opposite directions.
He was cut in three pieces and crumbled as another Orc saw what I had done and I took off it's arm as it struck. He shrieked loudly in pain when he realized that he was missing arm from beneath the elbow, only to be cut abruptly off when I cut off it's head. I saw Bofur spin around from the unexpected noise, only to catch sight of me. I cracked a smile in relief as both Ori and Bofur stared, "Hello gentlemen. Nice day for a battle yes?"
Not waiting for an answer I spun when a snarling Warg pounced in my direction, only to die at my feet when I stabbed it in the eye. Glancing back, I saw both Dwarves charge back into the fray and judged they would be alright. I was preoccupied again when a group of Orcs attacked but heard, "Thanks Ariana!" "Come on!"
I called, "Go on! I'll be there in a sec!"
When I finally looked up again, I caught just a glimpse of Bofur and Ori retreating further into the east.
"That's probably where everyone is," I realized. I bolted after them without a thought, dodging the numerous dead on the ground and ducking from the blows that were unwittingly slung at my face by the enemies only for them to die by my swords. One did get a lucky cut on my arm and when I killed the Goblin that had done it I quickly dug a bandage out of my pocket and in a flash wrapped it so that I didn't bleed too bad and charged on. Only to be cornered by a group of five Orcs and forced to fight for my life. I killed three easily but one got behind me and grabbed my braid in an iron grip, thinking to immobilize me. But as I spun, cutting off the arms of the Orc lunging at me from the front, I whipped my other sword up behind me and cut my hair off at the nap of my neck. The Orc stumbled and died with my blade in it's eye. I barely glanced at the braid still in it's grip before I dashed back into the fray.
Looking around frantically I finally spotted Fíli's bright blond hair just as a large, fearsome Orc managed to connect a blow with his spiked mace against the Dwarf's right shoulder. The powerful attack knocked Fíli off his feet and he was sent flying headfirst to the ground with a loud thud. My blood ran cold at the sight of the young Dwarf lying unmoving on the ground and I cut through anything in my frantic effort to get to him. But Kíli had already moved to stand in front of the Orc to protect his brother's prone form; the image of such a massive, lumbering opponent facing a fearless smaller one was almost comical but I, having been in the same situation time and again, could relate.
I approached the enemy's blind side just in time to see the Orc raising his mace over his head with both hands, prepared to deliver a crushing blow to the Dwarf's skull. Gritting my teeth at the sight and feeling a surge of protectiveness along with fury coursing through me, I skid to a stop in front of Kili and thrust both swords with all my might, cutting right through it's armor. The Orc froze in mid-position and then, feeling the sharp agony of his wounded chest, flung his mace to the ground to clutch at his chest, howling. His large, flailing arms hit me across the face before I could yank my blades free, sending me rolling backwards until I smacked right into a very surprised and relieved-looking Kíli. The unexpected impact knocked both of us backwards and together, we landed in a heap of sprawling limbs on the ground.
"Well, at least I had someone to cushion the fall," I thought sarcastically as I sat up to get off poor Kili. My cheek was throbbing in time with my heartbeat and by the Goddess! That smarted! "Owwwwwww," I growled.
Getting to my feet I held out a hand to Kili, "You alright?"
He nodded and still looked bemused, "Where did you come from? I didn't even see you until you appeared in front of that Orc!"
I cracked a pained grin, "I'm quick. Fili?"
We ran over to Fíli and gently rolled him over to his back. He was breathing and there was a thin trail of blood trickling from his shoulder down to his arm, but it was hard to gauge the extent of the damage under the thick metal armor. I gently talked to Kili, who was almost beside himself in worry. We lifted the unconscious Dwarf, taking great care not to put any pressure on his shoulder, and moved him under a slab of jutting rocks, away from the thick of battle. It was the safest place we could find on such short notice, and it would have to do. All the while, I could hear Kíli muttering incredulously under his breath: "Quick!? Quick! Damn lightning fast!"
We deposited the blond Dwarf in the new location and Kíli quickly loosened the clasp to Fíli's chest piece. Thankfully, the armor had taken the brunt of the damage and aside from a few scratches, there was very little bleeding. The shoulder, however, was dislocated and I had to work quick. I had Kili watch for enemies as I took the shoulder in my hands, felt for the right spot then with a solid pop, put the joint back where it belonged.
"Do you know where the rest of the Company is?" I asked hurriedly as I did my best to make Fíli comfortable. Waving Kili over, "Yes, they were where you found us, a little further to the east." Kíli got up after doing a final check to make sure that his brother was fine for the time being. "I can take you there." Then he did a double take and gasped, "Ariana! Your hair!"
I grinned at him and waved him off, "It'll grow back Kili. Now the others?" He grumbled curses at the Orcs and Goblins for taking my hair as we moved on. I was greatly amused but hid it so that it wouldn't upset him more.
We backtracked to the place where we had fought the Orc. At the sight of the massive body and my sword sticking out of it like pin cushions, I suddenly realized that my daggers wouldn't do much good here and I was practically weaponless and vulnerable. I would have to retract my swords first before I could go anywhere and with that in mind, I yelled at Kíli to go on ahead without me. I would have an easier time catching up now that I knew where the Company was. Kíli gazed at me for a sec, studying my face and then gave a quick nod and pointed to the direction he was going again before swiftly disappearing into the fighting crowd.
Grabbing first one sword, and yanking it free I tried to tug out my other sword. But it was tightly caught in the beasts armor. Gritting my teeth I propped my foot against the dead Orc's side and pulled with all my strength. A disgusting squelch along with a gush of black blood and I tried not to gag at the overwhelming smell of coppery blood.
Another resounding roar rose from the valley and with a sinking feeling of utter dread, I looked around to see what new hell has arrived now. To my great surprise, the warriors around me were cheering in victory at the sky, at what seemed like a great flock of mighty birds that were rapidly approaching. I continued to stare like a loon, entranced until I recognized his new allies.
The great Eagles of Manwë had joined the battle!
I whooped and cheered along with the Elves, Men, and Dwarves, completely elated by the arrival of these majestic, noble-hearted creatures. I was so busy celebrating that I completely missed the medium-sized boulder arcing steadily towards me until it crashed into the side of my head. Bloody hell.
0o0
When I woke up with my face mashed against the dirt to the sensation of stabbing, blinding pain in my head I promptly wished that I could just roll over and die just to make it stop.
"Holy hell what the fuck just hit me?"
Closing my eyes for a second, I took a deep breath as my stomach heaved and with arms like lead, pushing against the dirt. When at first nothing happen, I opened my eyes and strengthened my will, demanding my body obey. Like usual, it did and I gingerly pushed myself to a sitting position, fighting the urge to heave from my rolling stomach. Disoriented, I groggily stared at the dark blurring figures around me that were swimming dangerously in and out of focus. I automatically squinted to make out the details and immediately regretted this decision when I felt a sudden, sharp ache lancing through my temples. Curses and whimpers escaped my lips as the violent bout of nausea came back with a vengeance; I barely had enough time to bend to the side before I retched miserably on the ground my scant meal from hours ago. "Well that sucked. Note to self: never do that again."
I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve. The last time I had felt this sick was after I had fell off a barn trying to catch a crow that had stolen my pen and landed on my head. I had deeply, deeply regretted that decision the next morning when I woke up with a cow mooing in my face.
Slowly, very slowly, I painstakingly crawled to the nearest rock and propped myself upright. I shut my eyes in relief and forced myself to take deep, even breaths through my mouth. Little by little, I felt my stomach settle, at the same time my awareness came rushing back to me. I remembered yanking my swords free, then wildly celebrating the arrival of the Eagles, and then…oh.
Calling myself three kinds of idiot in five languages as I carefully reached out to touch the side of my head where the hot, pulsating pain was radiating from, expecting my fingers to come away with blood. To my surprise, I felt a large dent in the smooth leather of my helmet, forgetting I was wearing one for once. It was pure luck that the helm was built well enough to keep me alive. I could not think of a more humiliating death otherwise: Ariana, killed from a blow to the head because she was too stupid to look up when she knew full well that rocks were raining down.
Just imagining all the jokes the Dwarves would have made at my expense…
At the sobering thought of my Dwarf companions, I was suddenly reminded that Kíli was waiting for me and I absolutely needed to move. Right. Now!
Still streaming with curses, I gritted my teeth and used every ounce of my will power to push away all the aches and pain I was feeling. I managed to stumble clumsily to my feet after a couple failed attempts and as I stood there, wavering unsteadily on my feet like a newborn filly, I noticed, belatedly, that I was empty-handed. I looked around briefly in panic, winced at the painful stiffness that flared from my neck at the motion, and breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the familiar sight of silver and not too far away.
Beads of sweat were collecting against my brow and rolled down my face and I raised a hand to wipe my forehead. Feeling warmth I looked at my hand and saw scarlet red. Grimacing I thought, "Damn, must have gotten cut too."
And to make matters worse, the edge of my helmet was now digging painfully against the cut, causing fresh blood to dribble unpleasantly along my face. I removed the dented armor and dumped it unceremoniously on the ground in a fit of frustration. Staggering over to my swords, bending over to pick them up was almost my downfall but through sheer stubbornness I straightened with them in hand.
The world around me was quickly devolving into a disturbing, swirling mess of muffled sounds and colors but I ignored them as I moved forward like a woman possessed, taking great care to avoid tripping over the numerous dead that lay on the field or slipping on the blood-slicked earth. I was dimly aware that despite my best efforts, my focus was slipping away alarmingly and my thoughts were beginning to tangle together in disarray. My mind kept replaying my Dwarven friends' expressions – shock, hurt, anger – when they found out that I had willingly given Bard the Arkenstone.
I had never hated myself so much at that moment for making Thorin look so – betrayed and so unspeakably heartbroken, like I had reached into his heart and crushed it with a sledge hammer – and I wished desperately that there had been another option to stop the war. I would have done whatever it took if it meant never seeing Thorin like that – eyes hardened, quickly to cover up any vulnerability he had let slip. His expression was tightly guarded like he should have known that it was too good to be true to have finally found some semblance of happiness. I recognized his pain as my own from years of being the same, until I had met him. It hurt my heart to see it.
It seemed like I had been given a second chance to make amends by helping my friends on the battlefield and I would have to be a fool not to take it. I was many things, but never a fool. I just wished I wouldn't be arriving too late.
The pressing feeling of urgency was fueling me to keep going east to where the Company was fighting. I had no idea how long I had been walking, I just knew that I needed to get to – Thorin, who was so warm when he kissed me on that balcony. Thorin, who loved me despite being a sarcastic brat. Thorin, who looked at me with so much wonder and devotion, like I was the most important person on Middle-Earth, when I really wasn't anyone important.
I staggered, nearly slipping on some blood and righted myself as my thoughts returned to Thorin.-I was not the one who carried the hope of his people in reclaiming their homes, their dignity, their lives. I wasn't the one who started this whole mess of a quest while being aware that their success depended on getting rid of a dragon, of all things. It was Thorin who was stupidly brave. Thorin, whose quiet presence could inspire such loyalty among his people. Thorin, who deserved to be loved, to have a home.
And I would do anything just so that Thorin could smile as freely as he did that time they watched the sun set on Erebor from the balconies. Even betray his trust.
I wiped at the blood that was running down the right side of my face in mild disgust. "I must look quite the sight," I thought fuzzily, grimacing at the throbbing pain from my head and from the cut. "I'm covered in dirt and blood, reeking of sick and staggering about the battle field like a drunk. It is the mark of a true warrior."
Laughing like an idiot under my breath, I nearly tripped on my own two feet. The bouts of dizziness were coming more frequently and I caught myself before I lost my balance. Pausing I struggled to find my focus amidst my jumbling thoughts and the spreading headache, but it was getting more difficult with every step. At the sight of a large group of Dwarven soldiers heading with determination towards the south, my shoulders sagged in relief. "The Company must be near the head of the crowd," I thought hopefully. Determination filled me as I hefted my swords up in shaking hands and made to follow.
0o0
Sure enough, Thorin Oakenshield was at the front of the charge, face twisted in a snarl while locked in a ruthless four-way battle between two Orcs: one who wielded an impressive looking scimitar and the other who was, oddly enough, that damn pale-skinned like Azog and wielding a mace. The third was another pale Orc that was just a touch shorter than Azog and weilding a sword, he seemed eager to just sit back and watch Azog and the other Orc take on Thorin.
Although the Dwarf was agile, I could see even in my dazed state that he was obviously out maneuvered in the face of a two-frontal assault. Whenever Thorin blocked a blow from one Orc, the other would quickly attempt to take a swing at him. This barrage of non-stop attacks did not leave any time for Thorin to do much except to react on pure instinct. However, I knew damn well that it was not in the Dwarf's stubborn nature to be cowed into taking a defensive stance. I watched dazedly as Thorin took every opportunity available to mount aggressive counterattacks with broad, sweeping swings of his own ax, fighting in a reckless fashion. "A bit too reckless," frowning as I wondered suspiciously, trying to put my finger on why something felt…off.
Realization finally hit me like that boulder and I felt my heart drop. Thorin was fighting like he had nothing to lose…as if he did not care whether or not he survived! He wanted to die!
Fury unlike anything I had ever felt bubbled through me like lava; it brushed away the creeping effects of numbness and it sharpened my dulled senses to my chaotic surroundings. "Didn't Thorin realize that he was so much more important – to his people, to the Company, to me – than to be recklessly sacrificed in battle like this? How could he not see that?" And to think, I went through hell to protect Thorin, including that whole cursed business with the Arkenstone, only to have that thrice-cursed Damn! Dwarf! King! Willingly off himself in a fight!
The larger Orc took a swing of his scimitar to cleave the Dwarven king's head in two, but Thorin was ready for this. He quickly brought his shield overhead while he slashed at the Orc's exposed legs. His attacker let loose a howl of outrage and agony as he buckled to the ground with bleeding, torn knees. Using the momentum of his previous swing, Thorin brought his ax downward and beheaded his fallen foe in one elegant, fluid motion. This victory was short lived, however.
My heart clenched in a vice. The Dwarf was not fast enough to evade the pale Orc's mace to his chest and he was sent skidding harshly along the dirt floor. Visibly winded and face screwed in pain, Thorin had enough strength to raise one shaking hand to wrap around his aching ribs. He struggled to get back on his feet but he had obviously been too weakened. The pale Orc grinned in malice, smug in the knowledge that he had bested the Dwarven king, and without taking his eyes off Thorin, he slowly went to pick up his fallen ally's scimitar.
The other pale Orc that might have been Azog's son, came up with a menacing club of metal beside Azog, laughing at the fallen Dwarf. Azog muttered something in his harsh, guttural sounding language and he raised his arm over his head to bring down a killing strike. I saw resignation in Thorin's eyes and...
No.
Before I could register what I was doing, my left sword was flying and embedded itself into the chest of the laughing Orc and I had launched myself from the sidelines to boldly position myself in front of the Dwarven king. I got a sense of de ja vu for a second before my mind become occupied. I was right under the oncoming scimitar as I thought furiously, "It will be a cold day in hell before I am willing to watch this damn Dwarf die for the sake of battle honor! This self-sacrificing bastard isn't going to kick the bucket without a fight!"
I flung my remaining sword up to parry. But the other Orc wasn't as dead as I had thought and as it was falling forward it swung with it's remaining strength at my leg. I heard the sickening snap and staggered before I heard another sickening wet snap as blade and mace connected, followed by the sensation of unbelievable, fiery pain licking along the length of my right arm and left leg. Distantly, I thought I heard someone let out a choked scream.
But even with the agonizing pain, even with the knowledge of my on coming demise, I was not going down. Not without a bloody fight! A noise came to my ears and I hardly recognized my own agonizing scream as I grabbed my sword from my broken arm before I dropped it. Locking my right knee I swayed, trying to balance and used the sword as a cane for a moment to regain balance.
Azog's eyes widened when his mace was knocked off course but I did not care. I was too busy fighting to breathe through the agony that flooded into every part of my body, lighting all of my nerves on fire, making me burn from the inside. Gasping desperately, I felt myself pale to a sickly shade of white. I did not think I could draw enough air into my lungs to scream a second time as I stayed on my feet, which shouldn't have been possible. Azog then saw the fallen Orc at his side and let loose a furious scream.
The combined pain from all of my injuries threatened to overwhelm me and dimly registered that I choked down a mad, hysterical laugh that threatened to claw its way out of my throat, but I don't think I succeeded very well from Azog's bewildered look. The Orc was rapidly coming in and out of focus and all the noise around me had been reduced to a dull roar. It was taking everything in me to hold my position. But the look on Azog's face, the furious pain...seemed to amuse me because I laughed again. "Ah, the hell with it." And with the last of my strength, swung.
It shouldn't have worked.
I shouldn't of had the strength.
But as I watched in a haze, my sword cut through Azog's remaining hand as he swung at me and I watched as Azog roared in pain and clutching the stump with his metal claw. Dimly, I registered that I had let my sword slip from my grasp and that my left hand was cradling my injured right wrist. I wished I could remember when that had happened even though I couldn't do anything else but to keep breathing as my foe's expression unexpectedly turned to horror. A deafening roar came to my dull ears.
An abnormally large, angry bear, "it's Beorn the shape shifter, you ninny" I told myself, was lumbering towards the Orc and with one mighty lunge, the Orc was pinned beneath the great beast's weight. The whole fight had taken on a surreal quality, and I wasn't even sure if what I was seeing was real anymore.
I was too busy holding on to that last thread of coherency even when my vision was starting to fog over. The burning pain I had felt was now concentrated in my head and neck, bringing back the intense sensation of nausea. I grimaced, really not wanting to throw chunks again and I could feel my skin pull from the dried, caked blood along the right side of my face.
Thinking someone was calling my name I was jolted out of my haze at the soft touch on my shoulder, only to realize that I was looking up into Thorin's blue eyes. My hazy thoughts, "When did he get here? He looks worried..."
Thorin's face went in and out of focus as relief filled me, "He is safe. Thorin is safe. He is safe."
He was talking, I could see his lips moving slowly at first, then more frantically but I could not hear what he had to say. Black spots had started to appear in my vision and I tried to blink them away with no success. I supposed I should have been a bit more worried about myself, but the sense of relief from seeing Thorin alive was so overpowering. I could not help but smile softly at the Dwarf. I had wished so desperately, with every fiber of my being, that Thorin would be safe since the beginning of the battle.
And there he was, standing in front of me with that stupidly endearing brow furrow of his, lips moving again and again to get me to understand his words. I wondered what made him look so panicked but all I could think was, "Thorin is safe, everyone should be fine, everything should be fine. Thorin is safe."
I really wished I could understand what the Dwarf was saying though. I had always liked hearing Thorin's voice, it was soothing in a rough sort of way. At the very least, I wished I could apologize to Thorin but suddenly I was so tired. The fiery pain had finally burned itself out in my body, only to give way to a tingling numbness that was spreading through my veins like wild fire. Everything felt so blessedly cold and I felt like I could just float away to sleep for a long, long time. "Thorin wouldn't mind, would he? So tired. Just a nap. Ok, Thorin? I'm glad your safe."
With that last thought swimming around in my head, my vision tilted and darkness rushed in rapidly to meet me.