The Battle
Part Two
"Kili!" Fili yelled, taking down two goblins simultaneously with symmetrical swings of his twin swords. A third jumped onto this back from behind, its saber waving dangerously close to his face and he shook it off before plunging his own blood-stained blade into the foe's chest. He looked around in growing alarm – while his uncle stood holding his ground several metres away, his brother was nowhere to be seen.
It was with his relief when a familiar voice calling out his name had him whipping his head toward the sound, where he saw slight form of this younger brother astride the back of a chestnut horse. The beast was far too big and tall for Kili, despite him being tall for a dwarf, but Fili barely had time to register the thought before he felt his forearm being grabbed in a vice grip and he was being hoisted onto the horse's back behind his brother.
"What in Aule's name-"
"What do you think, brother?" he could hear the smirk in his younger brother's voice as he urged the horse on faster with a lash of the reins. "I reckon I could get used to this."
In spite of himself, Fili couldn't help the grin that fought its way onto his dirt-streaked face.
"Aye," he sighed "you'll be the death of us both, you know."
Kili chuckled under his breath in reply. "Well go on then! Make yourself useful."
Fili didn't need to be told twice. With the advantage of a greater height atop the horse, as well as the benefit of speed on his side, each swing of his swords and axe did extra damage. Orc after orc crumpled to the ground as Kili led them in a wide circle around their uncle, the brothers conveniently ignoring the flabbergasted and perplexed glances they received from the other members of the company.
"Grab the reins." Kili suddenly shouted. "It's my turn!"
"Have you taken one too many blow to the head, brother?" Fili replied, unsure of whether he had misheard Kili's request over the din of warfare. The young heir of Durin had always been reckless, but this borderlined insane…
"NOW!"
The leather reins were tossed into his hands and before he knew it, Kili was swinging a leg around him and effortlessly shuffling behind him, one hand already reached over his shoulder for an arrow whilst the other adjusted its grip on the bow. Strong forearms pushed Fili forward on the saddle so the pair had somehow managed to swap the seating arrangement, all without the horse even breaking stride once.
Fili swore under his breath. He did not know how his brother managed half the things he did, but there were rare few occasion where Fili had to admit they'd come in useful.
"So. How many did you kill, Fili?" Kili asked, aligning his fifth arrow in the quiver and taking aim. "Five," He breathed, after releasing the bowstring.
"Oh are we making this a competition now?" Fili laughed. "I am afraid I did not keep count of something as petty as-"
"How many?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Nine, ten. – Challenge accepted – Twelve…"
They made a good team, Fili and Kili. They always had. It was a compatibility that dated way back to when they were naught but mere dwarflings – from innocent childhood mischief like stealing an entire batch of Bombur's fresh-baked pasties, to not-so-innocent deeds like the time they succeeded spiking the ale at Bramlin's fiftieth birthday with some of the very potent 'Dragon's Drool' alcohol from Dwalin's liquor cabinet. The latter had resulted in the brothers clutching their sides with laughter as their unsuspecting companions slowly spiraled into absolutely hilarious states of intoxication, which they always vehemently stated was well worth the telling off and extra chores they were punished with when they were caught.
"Sixteen…" Kili muttered under his breath. The area surrounding them was clear now - that was the best advantage of the long-range nature of his weapon of choice. His eyes scanned the battlefield, illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. In the distance, Dori and Nori fought back to back, Ori tucked protectively between them with his slingshot and array of small throwing knives. Bofur wielded his war hammer bravely, the comically floppy ears of his hat looking most out of place in the graveness of the battle. Concerningly, however, his Uncle had slipped out of sight.
"Oy, Fili?"
"Aye?"
"Do you see Thorin anywhere?"
Immediately, the blonde glanced over to where he had last seen his Uncle standing up to a wave of orcs. The silver-streaked locks of the King was nowhere to be seen, but Fili did, with a heavy heart, notice that the White Warg that was often associated with Azog now crowded that space.
Alarm began to build within him as the sharp sounds of a recoiling bowstring once again filled the air in rapid succession. He felt no fear for the impending attackers – he knew that Kili would handle that imposing threat before the goblins could get close enough to them to be considered a danger. He knew better than anyone just how capable his younger brother was with the bow and arrow; after, it had been Fili who had stood unrelentingly by his brother's side as other mocked him for the 'cowardly' choice of weapon.
His greatest worry at that present moment came in the form of a strangled yell that rose above the bellows of war, familiar only in voice but not in sound. He never thought he would live to see the day that Thorin Oakenshield made a cry so saturated with pain.
"Was that…" Kili's voice sounded strained, clipped.
"Yes."
Momentarily distracted, the dwarves failed to notice the spear that hurtled straight toward them until it was too late. The weapon buried itself into their horse's side and with a high whinny of pain, the beast collapsed, her riders slamming onto the ground beside her.
Fili and Kili rose to their feet as quickly as they could. There was no time for mourning for their new four-legged friend when their Uncle needed them. Together, the young dwarves ran towards Thorin, who they could now clearly see as he was raised in the air between the jaws of the White Warg.
Through the pounding of blood in his ears and haze of adrenaline pumping through his veins, Kili vaguely registered a sharp pain in his side, where his dagger must have punctured the skin beneath his armour when he had hit the ground a that peculiar angle. It seemed irrelevant now, however. Pain was not of the slightest concern as he reached for one of his own arrows protruding from the carcass of a goblin on the ground, nocking it in his bow and firing it between the brows of another without so much as a blink of his eye. He collected arrows from his previous victims and stashed them back into his quiver as he passed, all the while defending himself with the dwarven sword he had inherited from his Uncle all those years ago.
Thorin was no longer being held at mercy by the warg, though it did not take an experienced eye to see that the mighty warrior was greatly weakened and in no state to retaliate.
No words needed to be exchanged between the brothers, yet their actions were perfectly synchronized. They quickened their pace; steps wider and faster. As Kili reached for an arrow for his bow, Fili pulled a throwing knife out of his bracer and adjusted it in his hand. The precise second that they were within range, the weapons soared. Side by side and weapons raised, they rush to defend the only Father they had ever known.
Like everything else they had done, and would ever do, they did it together.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Just one more Part left now, methinks.
Now I know in the novel Azog has absolutely no part in the dreaded Battle of Five Armies, bit I'm just playing off what might possibly happen in the movies. Now obviously I have no idea what's gonna go down in those, but I really, really want to know! Guh. I'm so excited for the new movies I'm going insane!
I hope you enjoyed and please do leave a review if you can; they give me warm fuzzies :3 Also, a HUGE thank you for the reviewers for Part One (:
-J
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