The morning was clear and while they moved along, Rivendell slipped behind the rock of the mountain. The city had a golden glow about it as it sometimes did, but it differed so greatly from the place they were going that Asta grew worried. Bilbo was the one who looked back, and he noticed that Gandalf was not among them.
"Where is Gandalf?"
"He will meet us in the mountains; I suggest you keep on Master Baggins." Thorin passed Asta, and she understood that there was not a camaraderie between Bilbo and himself. She went to the hobbit and reassuringly placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry Bilbo, he'll meet us. He is a wizard, after all." She smiled down at him and they carried on.
Being amongst dwarves made Asta feel oddly at home. The way they spoke was harsh and direct. The elves were always very polite and intelligent, which made them imposing sometimes. The manner of dwarves spoke leagues with her because they were things she never had the opportunity to escape to. For the most part she enjoyed eloquence and kindness but sometimes she enjoyed being more open and truthful, like she was with Endras. He was foolish and abrasive to the elfish norm but that's what had made him fun.
Most of the dwarves were similar. Kili and Fili were troublemakers, and she could tell that their bond as brothers was strong. Dori was the dwarf who took the pheasant from her, he was polite and loved tea, he carried spices on him that smelt rich when she was near him. Bofur was especially funny and kind in a way that made her feel welcome and less like it was courtesy. Dwalin always looked as if he was ready to fight, and he walked in a way that was prominent. Balin stayed far from her, although he would glare from time to time in her direction. Thorin stayed close to him, he would get up and walk around everyone but he would always return to Balin. Nori was fairly quiet, and sometimes he would just wonder off, and then reappear when they needed him. Ori was quieter than the other dwarves and she could see him off drawing when they rested, which excited her very much. Bifur didn't speak anything but ancient dwarvish, due to the fact that there was an axe head buried in his skull, so they didn't talk much. Bombur loved food, and always tried to sneak some away from whoever was cooking. Oin couldn't hear very well so there was little to say in the mountains to him, and Gloin was frightening, more so than Dwalin, because Dwalin could be coerced into conversation, but Gloin would just glare, he was tough and coarse all around.
From what she could determine from all of it was that Fili and Kili were Thorin's nephews. Balin and Dwalin were brothers, and cousins of Thorin. Oin and Gloin were brothers and also cousins to Thorin. Ori, Nori, and Dori were brothers, although they had some mixed parentage along the way, either not the same father or not the same mother, they were very different looking from each other. Bombur and Bofur were brothers and Bifur was their cousin with no relations to the others. Despite their different heritages they stuck together and they worked together, it was so tightly knit that Asta wondered if someone with no name would be able to join them someday.
It had been a few days going and the weather had begun to change. It was getting stormy and the wind was chill, so they continued their journey in haste. They travelled along narrow cliff edges that lead to deep plummets and although dwarf bodies and bones were tough, Asta knew she could not survive a fall with her weak human frame. Closer the clouds drew themselves as the sky seemed to narrow at high peaks. Sounds of thunder crashed, although there was no lightning to be seen. The winds picked up and great gusts would push the company close to the mountain walls. There was no purpose of speaking in such conditions as the wind would carry it away and the thunder would clap so loudly that even if it reached another person, they could scarcely hear it.
Asta drew her cloak close to her face, the fur at the edge of the hood providing some form of protection. She turned to see Bilbo shivering in his Shire clothing. In the Shire it never truly gets cold, not like in the mountains in any case, and he was ill prepared for such events. He kept up though and carried the burden like any other.
It was completely black now, no light peeked through the clouds, or it did not dare, for fear to illuminate what was before them. Great Stone Giants were playing great games, throwing boulders and trees at one another in good sport, but their good sport could mean death for the company.
The rain began to pelt down and soon hail joined, so the group decided it best to find shelter, but before the could manage, a stone giant grabbed a piece of the mountain above them, causing boulders to rain amongst droplets and hail. Everyone pressed against the mountain and covered their heads in a desperate attempt to save themselves. When all was said and done they checked to make sure there was no casualties.
"Bilbo!" Asta cried from the centre of the line, reaching her arms out as the hobbit clung to the edge, his eyes wide with fear and wanting to be saved. In an instant Thorin was on the cliff face pulling him up on the ledge again.
"Did I not say he does not belong?! He is hardly able to stay on his feet! Barely a burglar." He turned to push past the others and lead them to safety. Asta couldn't look at him as he passed, because she felt it too, that Bilbo, this Bilbo, was not a good choice as a burglar.
They finally reached a cave and it was decided that Bofur would take the watch, and that they would get their rest, for they would press on in the morning. The dwarves didn't question it, but Bilbo asked, "What of Gandalf?"
"Plan's change." Thorin said shortly.
Asta began to see that there was division of the dwarves and Bilbo and Gandalf. This was even evident in their sleeping arrangements, as Bilbo was often on his own and the dwarves rather close together. She had no idea where she belonged on this scale and so gave herself a place between them.
Sleep came easily to most and when all was quiet Bilbo made for the door.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" someone whispered.
Bilbo turned to Bofur, "He's right, I don't belong here. I belong in the Shire, with no adventures, and no dwarves. I don't know why I even left."
"But you can't go now, you're our burglar." Bofur attempted with compassion.
"Heh, you don't need me anymore. Take Asta in my place, she can at least fend for herself."
Thorin had his eyes open and was listening intently when he noticed Asta was looking right at him. Her face was visible through the swarm of dwarf bodies and it showed no particular emotion, but her eyes were staring at him, judgmental and accusing. He scrunched up his nose at her to confirm that he felt no remorse at his words.
"I wish you all the happiness, I truly do." Said Bofur as Bilbo turned to leave, "What's that?" point at Bilbo's sword.
The sword was glowing a frightening blue, and Bilbo looked up at Bofur in anxiety and the floor began to shake. Thorin was on his feet, Asta close behind and Thorin began to wake his men in desperation. "UP! GET UP!"
The dwarves tried to gather their things but the floor opened below them and they fell, and fell, and fell. They tossed and turned down a slide before crashing abruptly on a landing. A great many goblins came rushing at them, and still disorientated, they were taken captive. The goblins took them along a series of suspended bridges; Asta and Nori noticed that the goblins had left Bilbo behind. She looked at him in fear that they would find and kill him but before she saw if they did, he was out of sight.
"Who dares entre my kingdom, armed?!" Demanded the Great Goblin.
The Kingdom he spoke of was a series of rickety bridges, dirt tunnels in the most unrefined way, lit by torches that blazed about. No one answered him, all was silent, and Asta wasn't going to draw attention to herself, not here.
"Very well, if they won't talk, we'll make the squawk! Bring the Bone Crusher…" he began a list of gruesome torture devices and finished with, "We'll start with the youngest!"
Ori's face paled and Asta knew Thorin would not stand to let one of his men suffer, so before he could stop the fray, she let out a noise that hushed the halls. Her voice carried clean, ethereal, low and shocking; she sang a song of The Lonely Mountain.
A peak along the sky
Tall and alone
The mountain rests away
From the lives of man and
Durin's folk.
The Lonely Mountain
Cannot be claimed
Not even by those of fame.
Only the dragon, fierce
Can through the rock, pierce.
She stopped there as a gap from the Great Goblin to herself, had be made. Two goblins pushed her through, in front of the other dwarves.
"You were hiding a woman! No wonder you were silent." Snickers throughout the caves made her glare up at all of them, "And not just any woman, The Warg Slayer!" ooo's and ahh's mixed with laughter erupted. She just looked up at him, his massive body covered in boils and oozing some nature of secretion. It revolted her but she kept her gaze locked on him.
"I've heard very interesting things about you girl." He looked down at her with a snide smirk that made her feel judged and wanting to stab in him the belly before he revealed anything she didn't want the dwarves to hear, but she was curious.
"What things?"
"I heard about your whore mother, and how she died." She seemed to give a look of pure hatred as his half smile grew into a wide smirk, "How Gandalf the Grey took you from your village, then when he brought you back, the villagers chased you away with pitch forks and steel."
Her anger was growing by the second, her face reddened and her brow furrowed, "They chased you out saying that you were…what was it again? Ah…cursed, wasn't it? You haven't been welcome in a human village since, proven by your scar on your shoulder."
He turned to his audience, "Sad isn't? That wasn't the end though was it?"
She refused to give him any more satisfaction, so she tried to hide her rage, although it was burning from her very core and was making it's way through her veins.
"I heard about the scars you were left with, and how the Elven King saved your life, and even though he invited you into his home, he would never let you marry one if his kin. You will always be alone. After all, no man, of any kind, would love a woman who is no more than a cursed…" as he said the next few words he would pause and wait for the laughter, the cheers that would rise from the tunnels, "destroyed… body of a mix blood, would they?"
She could kill him, she could run and take the sword that was only yards away from her feet, and she could slash at his throat and guarantee that he could not breathe another word. She hadn't wanted the dwarves to know that she was King Thranduil's ward. She hadn't quite come to terms with all that that meant.
"Oh my, she doesn't look pleased. Tell me, girl, why do you, who values the elves so greatly travel with dwarves?" she only looked at him, eyes blazing and stubborn.
"Very well, take her to my quarters, lets see what an elfish, dwarvish, gondorian, goblin looks like eh?" Two goblins grabbed her arms and started to carry her off, "Oh don't worry dear, I'm not partial to beauty." The company stared on in shock and horror. He grimaced as she began to panic, she threw her legs around one of the goblin's waists, disorientating him enough to release her arm, which quickly found itself in the opposing goblin's face. An onslaught of goblins approached her, but she ran, jumped on one's head and over the pack she was. Her whole body represented anger and fury now, her breathing got heavier as she tried to calm down, her hands we partially clenched and her eyes looked upon him in such a way that he stopped laughing. She was feral and ready to strike like a wolf once bitten.
"You're quite acrobatic aren't you? Seize her!" this time many more goblins came at her, pinning her to the ground and dragging her off.
"I'll bite off my own tongue before I lie with the likes of you! I'll hang you from your own intestines, and leave you for the damned to see!" She began to scream desperately at him, threats that she fully intended to carry out. "You bastard!"
"Stop!" one voice called and Kili tried to break free to her, "She isn't a part of the company, she knows nothing!" But it was to no avail.
"Wait!" this voice carried over all the rest, and Thorin stepped out from the cluster. Asta's head drooped, not in thanks but in failure. As a conversation concerning Azog the Defiler, was taking place, Asta was searching for a way out. She needed to get them out of there, and quickly, before Azog knew of their position. Tunnels, tunnels and more tunnels, she couldn't make heads or tails of the place.
The Great Goblin began screaming, "THE GOBLIN CLEAVER! BRING ME HIS HEAD!" as a great light burst. Everyone was knocked over by a gust of wind and once they were back to, Gandalf stood before them. "Fight. FIGHT!" Asta ran to the collection of weapons and threw Kili his bow after he caught his swords and instantly she took out two goblins, one with her bow and one with an arrow. She jabbed the sharpened edge of the bow into the stomach of a goblin behind her, then stuck and arrow in the throat of an on coming enemy with her bare hands. The company began to run and traverse through the hoards of goblins that attacked them from every direction. She caught glimpses of her comrades in action now. Balin was an expert with a blade, Dwalin pummeled through with his axe. Thorin essentially danced around his enemies as he slayed them, Fili cut down anything in his path and Kili fended off arrows with a sword. These dwarves were experts, most of them, some just hacked at whatever came their way, but she knew she could learn from them. They finally assembled as one group when the Great Goblin jumped through their bridge; Gandalf took the lead.
"What will you do wizard?"
Gandalf lunged at him, poking him in the eye and slicing his belly. He looked at the wizard in pain and said, "Damn you, Dwarves." And he fell onto the bridge, crushing the supports below, which sent our company on a landslide where they were slammed and beaten down a narrow hole, only to be squished like meat in a sandwich between planks of wood.
"Well, that could have been worse." Bofur said as the body of the Goblin King came down upon them. Asta was on the bottom, so it wasn't so bad for her, with all the supports, but she wanted out nonetheless, and even more so when the angry goblins came clambering down the rocks.
Gandalf hurried them out into the sunlight and when they finally had a chance to breathe, he counted them, exclaiming, "Where is Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?!" and Asta remembered.
Her eyes searched across the faces as Thorin spoke up, "I know where our Hobbit is, halfway back to this home. He's been dreaming of his hearth since he left."
The dwarves hung their heads and looked at the ground, unable to stand up for the hobbit, but also not without dismay at his disappearance. After a long silence, "Then, it was good to travel with you." Asta declared as she turned to the goblin caves.
"Where are you going?" Thorin asked roughly.
"Back. To make sure he got out."
"Why? Let the hobbit, find his own way back."
She turned to him, walked so she could see his face, her eyes still furious, "Because, not all of us can say that we have twelve friends who come when you call, Thorin Oakenshield." She turned to see Bilbo standing above them.
"I'm right here." He announced and she ran to him embracing him tightly, "You crazy hobbit."
"It's alright, I'm right here." He soothed into her neck, as he embraced her back. When they parted he confronted Thorin.
"We had given you up, how did you get out?" enquired Kili.
"Well, I um…" and he fiddled with something in his pocket that Gandalf noticed, then he said "Well it is of no matter now."
"No. I want to know." Thorin forced, "Why, why did you come back?"
"I know you doubt me, you always have. And yes, I do dream of Bag End. I miss my maps, and my chair, because that's my home. That's where I belong. But you don't have that, a home. It was taken from you, and I'd like to help you get it back, if I can."
It was Thorin whose strong gaze deterred this time, he was ashamed that the hobbit had such good intentions and yet he could not accept him as the others had. In midst of his deep thoughts he heard a call throughout the woods… "Out of the frying pan…" and Gandalf finished his sentence, "And into the fire. Run!"
The wargs were upon them in seconds and Asta ran with the rest until they reached the cliffs edge, where she yelled, "Climb!" When she turned around Bilbo was trying to fetch his sword from the warg that lay at his feet, "BILBO!" but he managed to make it up a tree with the help of Dori. The animals surrounded the trees snapping up and breaking branches, causing the dwarves to climb higher. When he came, he commanded without words and the wargs backed from the trees.
He stood astride a great white warg, his huge, scarred chest expanding the animal's frame. In his left arm where Thorin had severed his hand, there was a metal rake of sorts, and he held a mighty mace in his right. He laughed low and terribly, and he spoke in his native language saying "Thorin" and "Thrain" perfectly. Thorin was in shock, Azog was dead, and Thorin killed him long ago, avenging his grandfather and his father. His heart wasn't beating anymore, but his head was. As the orc spoke to him, his body numbed, sound ceased and he felt no wind on his face, he only saw a nightmare come true. The Pale Orc motioned at Thorin and then the orcs attacked the trees.
The beasts snapped up with jaws capable of snapping a man in half, a dwarf or a hobbit would only suffice as a snack, if any were caught. The dwarves were letting out cries as the tress began to falter under the pressure from the wargs. One tree fell backwards which created a series of the same until the last tree was tipped over the cliff and all the dwarves were attached to it. Dori slipped from his branch due to Ori clinging to his legs, and it was by Gandalf's staff that they were saved. Gandalf had lit pinecones on fire and thrown them at the wargs, who hate fire, so flames blazed a wall between the company and the orcs.
Thorin looked through the sparks at Azog and his courage raised, entreating him to get up and fight. He stood and Asta was clinging to a branch, trying to get on top of it, but when she saw Thorin readying himself to face Azog, her attempts became an intense struggle. She screamed at him hysterically, "Thorin! No! Thorin, don't go! Thorin, no!" But he was not in a realm that her voice could reach him at and Dwalin who was also trying to get on top of his branch yelled at her "Have faith in him! He will not fall so easy!"
"No! I have seen it! I have seen his death!" the dwarves looked at each other briefly and in panic, then they began to frantically call his name and get back onto the tree trunk, but it was too late.
The Pale Orc ran at Thorin through a path from the flames, the warg jumped at him knocking him down. The world seemed to slow, he got to his feet, his breathing heavy, and Azog turned to face him, his horrid grin illuminated by flame and moon. Again he ran at Thorin and when the orc's mace made contact with his chest, time stopped. Asta shrieked his name from the tree that had caught fire from the very flames that were their salvation only moments ago.
Thorin was on his back, then the white warg picked him up in her monstrous jaw, clenching on his chest, which elicited a cry of pain from him. Asta was almost on the tree now, but she needed to be quicker, she was the only one so close. The warg threw him upon a rock and the Pale Orc gave an order to another, who went to Thorin's fallen body, positioning his blade at Thorin's throat. Thorin reached for his sword but the orc slammed his boot onto the dwarf king's chest, ready to make the final blow.
Out of nowhere, Bilbo crashed into the orc, sending him away from Thorin and Bilbo, while sitting on the orc's chest, stabbed and stabbed his sword into the fiend.
The white warg picked Bilbo up, but hobbits are just small enough that when they turn sideways they can fit between her teeth and she flung him with no major injury. The Pale Orc changed targets now, and while examining the hobbit curiously a flaming pinecone hit him in the face. Asta was now where Thorin was when he met Azog's eyes. She looked at Azog through furrowed brow and said to him in his language, "I am your opponent now."
"Warg Slayer." He glared at her, "you will die slowly."
They ran at each other through the same path as Thorin did and the strength in their strides matched. The warg jumped at her and instead of running ahead, she fell to her knees and slid along the ground beneath the warg, allowing Asta to slip both of her blades into the warg's throat, cutting down her stomach. Blood covered Asta from her face to her thighs as a grotesque reward. The warg's neck buckled under the weight of the rest of the body that threw the orc from it's back. Two more orcs on wargs ran at her, but two arrows found themselves embedded in the heads of the riders, so Asta turned sideways and spun, cutting down the left then the right warg. Kili's skills as an archer had saved her, and the others came to the fight at last.
Azog gave a booming cry as he looked at the dead body of his pet, then with more rage than she deemed possible, he came at her. She readied herself and he ran, raising his mace, but she slipped under his arm. She was no match for him in strength but she knew that she was quicker than he. She ran to Thorin's side and shook him emphatically, "Thorin! Thorin! Wake up! Please wake up!" but he had found her, and quickly turning around, she crossed her blades, to counter his mace. He was going to stab his rake arm into her, when a bird's caw sounded throughout the battle. Giant eagles took the wargs from the cliff, letting them fall to their deaths. His attention deterred for a moment, she slashed at his chest, opening a new wound. He cried out, perhaps in pain, perhaps in frustration as his army was flung from the precipice. She began to attack him as best she could, one blade after the other in quick succession, making a gap between him and Thorin. An eagle picked up Thorin's body gingerly, and carried him away. Azog's face contorted into fury as the colossal birds saved each of the members. As the eagle picked up Bilbo she smiled and watched the majestic creature soar above her and Azog's head. She backed away, making her way to the cliff edge, still fending off the great mace and rake. She took a quick look around to see how much further she had to go when an eagle shrieked below her, but when she looked away, she looked too long and he thrust his rake arm at her. Asta only had enough time to push it from its original target, her chest, to the outside edge of her arm. She yelled as it made contact tearing flesh from her. She grabbed at the wound then with one final look at Azog, the Defiler, she pushed herself from the cliff and onto the back of the eagle below.
The giant bird's feathers were soft and wonderful to touch. She ripped some of her sleeve to wrap her arm, which wasn't bleeding as bas as she thought, but still needed pressure. When she had secured the bandage she looked ahead, finding an amazing sight before her. The sun was rising and the light hit the eagles, illuminating a section of them. Some carried two dwarves, some only carried one. They passed mountain peaks and soared through clouds, which were cool on Asta's bare cheeks, but provided relief to her arm. She touched her face as the blood dried and she slid one of her swords from its sheath to see how much there was. She looked horrifying. The blood was a thick streak that carried from one eye to the outside corner of the other. It trailed from her hair, all the way to her mid thigh. As it dried pieces would flake off in the wind, revealing the white of her skin below. The whites of her eyes were prominent and her iris blended in with the blood well. She was tired now, much had happened and she had fought with more strength that she should have. She knew that once they were on land again she would face danger and she feared the consequences.
