.II. These Things Shall Never Die
Sounds of battle rose from the plains below, awaking his blood, making his pulse pound as his heart beat a staccato tempo of war. Securing the last of his armor, Thorin stood proudly at the head of his assembled dwarves. Though they were only twelve, fear was not in their countenances. Looking to their leader, their eyes were steady, their hearts certain; they would follow him, even to the death if need be.
In the flickering torchlight their armor gleamed, and Thorin couldn't have wished for a braver lot then these who had stood at his side through many adventures. The words he had spoken to Balin (on that long ago day in the Shire at Bag End) still held true.
"Loyalty, honor, a willing heart; I could not ask for more than that."
Eager to fight, he matched his company's building excitement with his own, meeting their eyes, as he held aloft his sword in glorious splendor. At his signal, the stonework was thrown down, and a trumpet blared (picked up by one of his dwarves from among the treasure of Erebor), and the front gate was open. Leaping down with a shout, they charged the enemy's ranks.
oOo
The camp was silent, heavy with sorrow and pain, the only sounds coming from the wounded and dying. No celebration brightened the day, victory had been won but at a steep price. The remnants of Thorin's company huddled outside their leader's tent, already grieving though their king yet breathed.
Time ticked sluggishly, seconds disappearing into nothing, leaving no memory of anything to mark its passing. Only the dying flicker of candle flame, giving the appearance that it was floating in its puddle of wax, marked the passing hours just as it was the only light in the tent. Leaning forward to light another fresher candle, Balin sat back in his seat with a sigh. His limbs were stiff after sitting for so long, but he was determined to continue his vigil until the end. Dark shadows filled the corners of the tent, concealing the rough texture of the cloth'en sides, and half masking Thorin's face. But in the candlelight, Balin could see enough of his king's face to tell that he yet lived.
Deep in sleep, almost beyond the point of consciousness, Thorin walked in dreams. In them, he relived the battle, once again striking down his foes as he single-mindedly fought to get to Azog, oblivious to those who followed in his wake, defending his back and shielding his sides though they fell in the effort.
oOo
Watching as Fili helped Kili put on his armor, while Kili passed a sword over to Fili, Thorin almost smiled. They reminded him so much of how he had been with his brother. Through the many years since Frerin's death, Thorin hadn't been able to shake off the feeling that the presence who used to guard his back was gone. But Frerin wouldn't have been content to wait the slow years until they were unable to try reclaiming the mountain; in that way he was happier in death.
…
"Keep them safe, bring them home," Dis had pleaded.
"I can't treat them differently from anyone else on this journey. They need to prove themselves," Thorin had pointed out.
"Then leave them here," Dis argued.
Thorin sighed. "They are willing to come; I cannot deny this opportunity."
…
He hadn't been able to promise her at the time that he could protect them, and he certainly couldn't guarantee it now.
oOo
Once more, he could see the pale orc's face as his fell eyes glanced upon him. He felt his sword's response, as if it were a living thing, as it cleaved into his enemy's flesh. Then awareness dimmed, and all he knew was the fighting and reacting as he battled Azog. Pain crippled him as Azog's spear found its mark, piercing his chest, but he fought on, his one thought to bring his foe down.
oOo
Striding down the leveled trunk of the fallen pine, fire licking the branches around him, Thorin faced his foe. Desperate to reach Thorin, his dwarves struggled to pull themselves onto the girth of the trunk, but he didn't see their efforts. Boughs snapped under their weight, pine needles slapping their faces as the branches whipped back into place.
Flung to the ground, consciousness slipping away, Thorin lay helpless and unarmed while Azog gloated over him. He barely registered when Bilbo (to the amazement of all) came to his rescue; he wasn't aware when Fili and Kili, followed closely by Dwalin, charged the orcs; and afterward, he remembered nothing of the flight with the eagles.
oOo
Black descended on the dream, becoming gray like the breaking of the dawn, and he was in Erebor, gazing triumphantly over his gathered people. All those who had been displaced by the destruction of Smaug had come back; were home. A resplendent light bathed the scene in splendor, a splendor more glorious then what he had known in his youth. It was a dream fulfilled.
oOo
Holding up the key, Thorin said, "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day that the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."
Balin nodded. "Then we are with you laddie. We will see it done."
oOo
Everything appeared the way it had before the dragon's destruction, Erebor had been restored to its former glory, and all was well. On his head was the crown of his father's, from his hand sprang the white light of the Arkenstone; he was King Under the Mountain! Holding it aloft, he only half heeded the cheers of his people as his gaze settled upon his company, his trusted companions. There was Dori, Nori, and Ori, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, Oin, Gloin, and Dwalin and Balin (faithful Balin). Not surprisingly, the hobbit was there too, loyal Bilbo who had never wanted to come on the journey anyway. But clearer than the rest were his nephews, Fili and Kili. As his gaze rested on his sister's sons, the light of the Arkenstone washed out everything else, yet unlike everything else (for the rest had faded into whiteness), Fili and Kili stayed with him. Leaving the Arkenstone behind, he stepped forward and embraced them, and as they stood there, faces close together with smiles on each of their faces, Thorin's heart filled with a gladness that he had never known in life.
oOo
Exiting the tent, Balin looked up sorrowfully as Dwalin stood up. Evening had fallen in pastel colors, silhouetting the Lonely Mountain and hiding the ravaged lands about it. The rest of the dwarves looked up anxiously, the traces of tears about their eyes.
"How is he…?" Dwalin's voice trailed off.
"The king is dead," Balin replied heavily.
Dwalin bowed his head, hiding his tears. Ori turned to Dori, while Nori placed a hand on each of his brother's shoulders. Bofur took off his hat, his expression forlorn. Oin nodded and sighed, lowering his hearing-trumpet, while Gloin wiped away a tear. Bifur sat with an incomprehensible expression, the grief had yet to sink in. Twin sets of tear tracks made their way down Bombur's face as he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.
Turning away from his comrades pain, Balin spotted two clothe covered figures resting nearby. His heart deceived him, unwilling to believe what he already knew. Drawing back the white fabric from their faces, Balin gazed at the youthful faces of Fili and Kili, and new pain stabbed his heart. In death, their faces were peaceful, as if asleep. Until now he had hoped that they would be found alive, possibly injured, but alive. But even that wish had proved vain. Letting the fabric fall back into place, Balin found that Dwalin had joined him while he stood looking upon the fallen.
"One of Dain's folk found them, near where Beorn found and carried Thorin away from the battle," Dwalin explained, his voice rough with raw emotion.
"They were good lads," Balin murmured.
"Aye," Dwalin replied.
Embracing his brother, Dwalin dipping his head so that their foreheads touched, Balin found some consolation in their shared grief.
oOo
Note: I'm sorry for the weird formatting of this one:/ I found it hard to transfer everything properly, and it didn't help that the story was already complicated to follow. For clarification, the parts in italic are flashbacks, and the regular font is a mix of Thorin's perspective (plus his dream) and Balin's perspective. As for the title "These Things Shall Never Die" that's referring to Thorin's quote on loyalty, honor, and a willing heart.