"Tell me, master Dwarf, of all that has been, I beg you. I need to know."
Tauriel remembered taking Dwalin's rough and dirty hands in hers as she sadly requested him to tell what had happened to Fili and Thorin, and all that occurred before she met Kili uphill with Bolg. She remembered his desolated eyes. Thorin Oakenshield's company had known the odds of them surviving the entire adventure were non-existent when compared to the ones of dying; death had always been a part of the equation, and still it took them by surprise. Perhaps they didn't expect to lose their three heirs, the ones alive were not the ones they expected to see and the ones who joined the lines of the dead were whom their arms longed to hug once more; that much Tauriel knew could be possible.
The Dwarves wouldn't grieve in the same way Elves would, traditions were different. But in that very moment their soul crumbled, and they cried for their lost brothers.
And so she begged.
And so Dwalin talked between tears he perhaps wasn't aware were falling, aided every now and then by the Halfling who had once managed to escape their prisons in Mirkwood.
"Legolas! We must hurry!" she shouted as she retrieved her knife from the side of an orc. Their armour was strong, but most of them had cracks that were not hard to get to. Her companion wasn't far behind, but just like the first time she lived that battle, Legolas' targets were the orcs. She, on the other hand, had different objectives and couldn't care less about orcs or how to properly kill them.
"If you run any faster you might as well catch flight, Tauriel!" she noticed his quiver was almost empty; part of the reason he wasn't keeping up with her was because he was busy picking up undamaged enemy shafts to shoot instead of using his arrows. If she intended to save the three dwarves then she couldn't approach the enemy all on her own, but waiting for Legolas to be on the same page was proving to be just as dangerous. Tauriel couldn't afford to waste a second.
Tauriel's thoughts were scattered all over the battlefield, she couldn't really think and all she could scream at Legolas was "Gadas!"
He stabbed an orc before rushing to her side "Manen istog?" looking at him from up close he looked dishevelled. He had stained part of his clothes with the black and hideous blood of the orcs and his left brow was bleeding. Elves were unlikely to lose their grace and elegance when they fought, but also, sometimes... they looked just like humans were it not for their pointy ears; and Legolas, despite his state, appeared to be as beautiful as ever. No wonder why his father had been against any sort of relationship between them.
"I just know."
Then she ran.
If her memory was as trustworthy as ever, then she was twenty minutes ahead of her past self. By that time, in the first battle, she had been far from Ravenhill, which she was currently climbing. Still, that didn't mean it had become easier. There were goblins everywhere; they seemed to pop out from the earth itself. Her disgust for both orcs and goblins had only grown with the years, and this time they were delaying her. Whenever her sharp knife stroke them or her pointy arrows pierced their skin, the creatures made awful sounds that would probably haunt her forever. She'd choose spiders any day.
The earth beneath her was slowly becoming soaked with the blood of the enemy, and she felt sick. Neither Thorin nor Dwalin had seen her yet, she took a quick peek over her shoulder and realized Legolas was nowhere to be seen. She sighed. Kili and Fili must be up and she needn't worry about Thorin yet, Azog wouldn't fight him until later. As she went Tauriel was cruelly reminded of the strength the wind had, it sent her hair flying all around and pushed her backwards when she was standing on a particularly difficult slope. It faintly carried the sounds of the battle going on, the clash of swords and the sound of arrows flying, cutting through the clouds like lightning.
Against common belief, despite having lived this before, it was all so different and hard Tauriel wondered if the Valar had done it on purpose. It was easier to bring them back to life, but no. They were making her live up to their expectations, she needed to show them she deserved this second chance. Her victory would mean everything, and if she didn't make it then Tauriel wasn't sure she could take losing Kili all over again, knowing she had had the opportunity to save him twice.
Busy as she was going through a tight stone passage, she didn't notice the orc behind her pointing an arrow at her. Tauriel only knew what was going on when she heard the echoes of the string when the orc let it loose, the almost whistle-like sound bounced all around the corridor. She turned around, barely managing to escape the lethal shot. Her arm wasn't as lucky though, there was an ugly gash produced by the ever lovely caress of the arrow's point.
Tauriel didn't know many orcs to be smart, and this most definitely wasn't. Seconds after the foul creature realized she was still breathing and practically unharmed, it charged. As he ran the sounds of his iron-clad feet hitting the ground carelessly made her internally shriek; but in a matter of seconds, when he was close enough, she took him down easily. When Tauriel exited the tunnel she gave a relieved respite, not more than a few slopes away, Kili was standing motionless, looking up.
The young dwarf was clenching his fists and he was surrounded by the corpses of his enemies, she was so busy assessing the rest of the hill seeking for faster ways to climb up she didn't realize the reason why Kili was paralyzed until it was too late. She heard Azog's ugly voice carried by the wind, what followed after she lifted her gaze was horrible. Not even flying could've helped her reach the prince and stop the sword. Mercilessly, Azog ended Fili's life and let him fall. It was too early to feel like a failure, but she did; she lost one of three when she was supposed to lose none.
And one was as far as it would go.
Kili rushed uphill and she followed close behind. When she realized there was no other path but the one she'd taken the first time, Tauriel braced herself and jogged her memory. If this was going to play back exactly the same way, then she better remember what Bolg's moves had been. She better beat him at his game.
When Bolg first appeared she was scared.
This time she was angry.
He was taller and stronger, but she could move faster. For all the times he had grabbed her and tried to kill her, this once she managed to escape his deadly grip. That didn't mean she was winning, because she hadn't wounded him at all. For a second she lost focus and Bolg hit her, sending her a few feet away, near the edge of the cliff again. She heard herself crying out in pain at his blow and that perhaps was what drew Kili's attention because in a matter of seconds he was there.
"Kili, get down!" ignoring the searing pain all over her body, Tauriel got up and thanked Ilúvatar Kili had listened to her, Bolg's arm didn't reach him. That small manoeuvre had bought them some time; Tauriel guessed it was due to priorities, the dwarf was a worthier prey; and so Bolg went after Kili and for a second he totally forgot about her. Tauriel leaped forward and encircled her arms around Bolg's wide neck, making pressure on his throat; of course she could never choke him, but if she could at least cut his supply of oxygen one bit to make him dazed, then she would give Kili a bigger shot at killing him.
It didn't surprise her when the orc turned around and ruthlessly hit his back against the solid rock of the hill, crushing her in the process. Tauriel could consider herself lucky if she got out of there with an unbroken spine. She was on the brick of letting go when Bolg shouted something Tauriel wouldn't dare pronounce, not even translate for the dark speech often unnerved her. When she stretched her neck to see what had caused Bolg's cry she noticed Kili had wounded him.
The second time Bolg turned around, the centrifugal force sent her flying once again. Tauriel landed on her feet and saw what Kili had done: there was a big, ugly cut on Bolg's chest that ran all the way down to his stomach, where his armour didn't protect him. Blood loss was as good as poor oxygen intakes. But he wasn't ready to go. He was still holding the big spike that killed Kili before and odds were he still had every intention to use it. When Kili fixed his eyes on her to check she was alright, Bolg grabbed him.
And there she was again. She made a move and failed. But it was the second move she had to get right, because that had been the one that could've saved him. Tauriel noticed she still had a knife attached to her right boot.
Tauriel grabbed the knife handle and prayed for Oromë's aim. Bolg was never distracted but he most definitely was tired, perhaps dizzy and at the moment, and unlike the first time, he was only focusing on Kili. Tauriel walked to the right, just when Kili's back was all she could see and Bolg was fully in front of her did the monster realize she was still standing. He looked up at her while he lowered the spike down at Kili's chest.
That was her chance.
She threw the knife. It all seemed to have slowed down, she could see her knife flying, the blade shining under the clouded sky as an omen of good luck.
And Oromë's aim had been with her.
The sharp blade of the knife hit home, it landed in Bolg's forehead, just between his eyes. Black blood began to run down his nose as his grip on Kili grew weaker, in a matter of seconds the orc's dead body fell down, crushing Kili. The spike never harmed him. Tauriel felt like crying, the war wasn't over but he was alive. With adrenaline still kicking in she couldn't feel her body crying out in pain, in fact she felt like flying… she rushed to Kili and with a strength she didn't know she possessed Tauriel pushed Bolg's body aside.
Kili's lungs didn't get a rest though, nor a chance to freely respire, for the second Bolg's body wasn't in the way, Tauriel flung herself at him and embraced him for dear life.
"Thank Aulë you're alright!" she whispered against his neck, breathing in his scent. The young dwarf hugged her back and pressed her body closer to his. She could feel his breath against her shoulder for a couple seconds before he lifted his head and tried to make her look at him.
"Aulë? Mahal? Now, why on Earth would you thank him specifically?" he faintly smirked.
She could've kissed him.
"You're alive…" Tauriel whispered, still searching his face for confirmation "I saved you." She smiled.
"It has become quite obvious who the damsel in distress is in our relationship, Tauriel. No need to brag about it."
One is dead.
One is alive, at the moment.
The other one still needs saving.
"With all due respect, there's another damsel in distress. We need to go help Thorin. If what Dwalin and the Halfling told me is true, then he's near the river. There's no time to lose, Kili."
Their joyous moment now over, they both ran towards the river, but first Kili made her promise with one particular look she'd explain what was going on. Tauriel hoped they weren't too late, this part of the story she hadn't lived at all. There were no guarantees, no moves she could anticipate because no one had seen their fight.
The frozen river served as the stage of one legendary war, what they first saw was Azog falling into the gelid water, the weight of his own weapons dragging him down. Still they kept going.
It's not over, it's not over. I can feel it.
They watched Thorin pacing as they approached, they were close, so close…
"Thorin!" Kili shouted.
"Kili?" answered Thorin before getting his foot pierced by a dagger.
When Azog emerged from underneath the frozen surface of the river Tauriel didn't know what to do. She didn't have any arrows left –she couldn't even remember where her bow was, and her knife was still buried in Bolg's forehead. Completely out of synchronization with her partners, Kili and Thorin attacked while she remained motionless for the shortest eternity. You couldn't see the white orc was armed to its teeth until you noticed how many weapons he dropped whenever Thorin charged and Kili punched. To be grateful for that would be insane, but she was.
Eventually Azog let go of his scimitar and she slid to it, squeezing the handle in her palm. Azog had knocked Kili out and his forehead was bleeding; Thorin on the other hand was fighting so enraged he barely left space between his own body and the orc's; if she wanted to attack she'd have to wait, either way she'd hurt the dwarf too.
It was hard to describe how Azog managed to kick Thorin in the chest, it almost seemed impossible but it had occurred. Being a psychic wasn't necessary to know the force of that kick had broken some ribs for sure; she knew Thorin Oakenshield would fight until the very end, regardless of his physical condition, the least she could do was give him a chance to slightly recover –Tauriel attacked Azog.
She dived headfirst into him, approaching him from behind. Her light steps prevented the orc from noticing her until she was too close to be stopped; when he turned he was pierced by his own blade. Tauriel could see the surprise in his eyes but also the mischief; he smirked and pulled out a small dagger, he let her get a glimpse of it before burying it in her side. He moved around then, trying to free himself from her but she didn't give in; she pushed the scimitar further in.
"Stupid elf" Azog hissed.
Tauriel wouldn't let go of the handle and Azog was twisting the dagger deeper into her, she cried out in pain and let her head drop. The excruciating pain she felt when he retrieved the blade almost blinded her… perhaps she wasn't the strong elf she always claimed to be. The blood paid no mind to her life and oozed out of the wound almost happily, she could feel it soaking her clothes and her limbs turned cold, her grip on the handle became weak and before she knew it she was on her knees.
She could see Azog's shadow and reflection on the ice, she saw him lifting his arm, holding the dagger and pointing down at her, ready to strike again when the sound of footsteps cracking some ice reached her ears. Somehow Thorin was now behind her and he was approaching at full speed. He didn't care about her wounded state, he used her as leverage and jumped, then Tauriel thought she saw his other foot stepping on the scimitar's handle.
Azog yelled only to be silenced by the touch of Orcrist cutting across his neck. She knew he was dead because his head hit the ground and she saw it roll until it disappeared into the crack Azog had made when he came out of the water.
Fainting was not an option.
She didn't want to.
But she did, wounded and beaten as she was Tauriel didn't know if she would ever open her eyes again.
Sindarin translation:
Gadas: trap.
Manen istog?: how do you know?
A/N: I updated, yay! Hope you liked it :)
