It was over.
They had won Erebor with, literally, blood sweat and tears, and Thorin felt a heavy weight lift in his heart. He could finally live, and rule in peace. Sure, there would be a lot of things needed to be done in order to fully restore Erebor to its former glory, but Thorin would be able to cope with it if Helga was beside him as his wife and queen. And speaking of...
He looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of blonde hair. The last he saw her was when she tackled Azog down and chopped off his other hand. He started to get worried, especially since he saw that the Company was starting to gather around a spot at the foot of the ruined tower. He limped towards them and was quite relieved when he saw Helga kneeling beside Amren and Alvor's corpse, with her back to them. However, dread filled him as he saw that she was cradling Alvor and shutting his eyelids close. With him and Amren dead -especially since the three of them were already starting to become close, he knew that Helga would never be the same.
"Bifur, Bofur, find a blanket, a cot, anything. We have to bring them down." Thorin told them, and they nodded before leaving in search for something to make do with. Thorin kneeled beside Helga, and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned on him, resting her head at the crook of his shoulder. He knew how much Amren and Alvor meant to Helga, and he couldn't imagine how it would have been if it were Fili or Kili were the ones lying dead on the ground.
Bofur and Bifur then returned, finding two cloaks of fallen elven soldiers. Fili and Kili, despite their injuries, took it upon themselves to be the ones to carry Amren and Alvor's bodies. Along with Bifur and Bofur, they lifted the bodies on the cloaks and the four of them carried to two bodies down the hill. The Company went with them, and so did Thorin, who was comforting Helga. They all walked silently down the hill, mourning for the loss of two of their friends this day, but silently thanking that everything was over... or so they thought.
Thorin, who had his arm on Helga's waist, and her arm around his neck, was lucky enough to catch her when she suddenly leaned to her side and collapsed. The company stopped and looked at their king, who was kneeling and laid Helga's head on his lap, frantically looking over her body and wondering what he had missed.
"Helga," He said, tapping her cheek as her eyes started to close. He suddenly saw Helga's other hand, clenched on her side. He took it in his hands, lifted her leather armor, and saw that her tunic was wet with blood and that she was still bleeding... bad. "Helga-... how-?"
"Azog... When I cut the bastard's arm off..." She answered, and Thorin sat her up, letting her lean on a nearby boulder.
"Damn you, woman! Why didn't you tell me a while ago! OIN!" Thorin roared, and the old healer was there in an instant.
"Because I know you'd panic-... you'd be distracted and would have died on Azog's hand. Besides, I was bound to die anyways," Helga said, letting out a bitter laugh. However, her eyes turned sad as she looked at him and tried to smile."Nearly a thousand years for a lonely woman is more than enough." She said, patting Thorin's cheek.
"Well I'm panicking now, you daft woman! Mahal, what were you thinking?!" Oin kneeled down and lifted her shirt to see that there was a huge slit on her stomach. He placed his hand on her back and felt warm blood gushing out of another wound.
"Thorin," Oin said, looking at the panicked eyes of the dwarf king, and shook his head. "She lost a lot of blood, and she's losing a lot more from that exit wound." Oin explained, and Thorin shut his eyes, as if he was in pain, too. The old healer backed up to give the two some space, and Thorin looked around, desperate for help. In fact, so desperate that...
"The elves," Thorin said, looking at them. "Those pointy eared bastards... They could-... They could-" However, he was cut off when he felt a hand on top of his. He looked down to see Helga crying and a weak attempt to smile.
"Thorin... No," She managed to say, and she let out a strained grunt, her face immediately turning into a grimace. "You have to promise..." She mumbled, squeezing his hand and he brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
"The only thing that I'd be promising you is that we would get married tomorrow, formalities be damned," He said, his voice breaking. When he asked her to marry him, he wanted it to be perfect, up until the last detail. He already knew how long it takes to plan weddings, but as long as they end up as husband and wife, he'd be willing to wait. It was only until that moment that he realized how badly he wants to marry her, and how soon he wants it to happen."Everything would be alright... Oin! Do something!" He said, looking up at the old healer, tears already starting to stream down his face. However, one look at the healer's face, and he knew all that he needed to know. He shut his eyes and tried his best to compose himself before looking down at the love of his life. "Please, my love, do not do this to me... I love you -I cannot go on without you!" Helga gave him a weak smile and she cupped his cheek, her eyelids starting to become heavy.
"Thorin... You have-... to go on... You have so much to give to your people... not like me... I have nothing left..." She said, her voice faint. "You-... will be such a great king... And I-I'm sorry I can't-... be there to see it..." She looked into those blue eyes again... Those sad, blue eyes that she learned to fall in love with, before she closed her own. She took a deep breath and exhaled, giving Thorin's hand one last squeeze.
"I am ready," She said, but more to herself. She huffed out heavy sighs of pain, however smiling and looking up to the sky."I am coming home." Then, her last tears slipped down her cheeks before her laboured breathing stopped. Her hand then fell limp in Thorin's as he felt the warmth and life in her body slip away from his grasp. At the moment, all that could be heard were the dwarven king's cries and sobs of anguish and pain as he held his love's lifeless body in his. But no matter how much he prayed, no matter how much he cried or held her, Helga was gone, and there was nothing he could ever do about it.
When Thorin had no more tears left to shed, when he felt as if he had poured, shouted, and sobbed the life and soul out of his body, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw that it was Gandalf, giving him a sad smile.
"I think it would be best if we move her body inside the mountain, Thorin." The wizard said, and Thorin nodded weakly, feeling numb. When Balin, who also had tears in his eyes, and Dwalin made a move to carry her, Thorin stopped them.
"No," Thorin said. "I will carry her."
"Thorin, you are injured," Bilbo said, pointing out to the gash on Thorin's calf. "It will get worse if-"
"I will carry her." Thorin said, with a tone that left no questions. Bilbo just nodded, and backed off, watching as Thorin kneeled and placed his arms under Helga's knees and torso, placing her arm around his neck. With a grunt, he lifted Helga's body, and he limped all the way to Erebor, ignoring the throbbing pain on his calf, and how his arms were starting to ache from Helga's weight. She was, after all, slightly taller than her, and therefore heavy.
All the injured and what was left of the armies were gathered inside the mountain fell silent as they all saw the dwarven king limping inside, a dead woman in his arms, followed by the company who were behind him and were carrying two other bodies. It was then the dwarves in that mountain knew. They knew from the way Thorin carried her; they knew from the times when he would bow his head and settle his forehead on woman's in a tender way; they knew from the tears streaming down his face that they had just lost who was supposed to be their queen. As Thorin walked, everybody cleared a path for him, and the dwarves -wounded or not, kneeled or bowed as he passed, paying their respects. It was truly a sight to behold, and it would have been for Thorin, if it not for Helga who was lying lifeless in his arms.
And so, weeks after the Battle of the Five Armies, life went on. They held a small ceremony for Thorin's coronation, and a temporary council was held, in the absence of his real council which was in Ered Luin at the moment. Despite how much he hated this temporary council, he knew that he needed them, for Erebor was still weak, and hard decisions needed to be made for the sake of the kingdom. However, taking a dwarven wife and queen immediately is a decision that Thorin does not need to think about.
"My wife fought in the battle and died in my arms. I would not be taking another." He said, glaring at the council members. However, their skulls are as thick as their faces and the King's glare did not waver their decision for taking in a queen.
"But Your Majesty, a queen would be a symbol of hope, prosperity, and peace! I think-"
"You think, but I decide. Do not forget your place," He growled at them. "Do you not see that I am still in mourning?! Not only for her, but for the hundreds of dwarves that died on the battle. So I do not think that this is the time to be discussing these petty matters."
"Her? The Dragon Rider?" Another dwarf scoffed, and Thorin stood up, his chair falling and his fists clenched on the table.
"Watch your tongue, laddie. You do not know who it is you speak of." Dwalin growled, which seemed to work for the young council member.
"Now consider this topic closed and tell me something useful." Thorin said, getting his chair and sitting down again, a heavy weight in his heart.
When the meeting ended, he ignored the bows the council members were giving him and immediately left, Dwalin and Balin on his tail.
"Thorin, wait!" Balin called after Thorin, who stopped to turn at the old dwarf and nodded at him.
"How can I help you, Balin?" He asked, and Balin smiled warmly at Thorin.
"Actually, I think it is I who may be of help," Balin said solemnly, knowing that it was still a very sensitive topic for Thorin. "Thorin, I know that it is too soon -and it will always be too soon for you, but it gives me peace to know that Helga died how she wanted to."
"Why would anyone want to die by being gutted?" Thorin asked, bitterly. However, Balin just smiled.
"I didn't mean that she wanted to be gutted. What I meant was that she wanted to die by saving someone she loves, and that is you."
"Balin-"
"And how many young men, women, or dwarves can say that they are ready to die during their last breath?" Thorin fell silent, and Balin continued. "It gives me peace, Thorin, that she got what she wanted in the end."
"She did not want to die. She wanted a life with me -to be my wife, my queen."
"She wanted a family, Thorin," Balin said, shutting Thorin up. "She wanted her family back."
"Was I not enough for her?" Thorin asked, his voice weak, and Balin looked at his king with sad eyes.
"She loved you, Thorin. She loved you very much. But I'm afraid if your whole family- your whole kind died, I'm afraid there will always be a part of your heart that will always be dead." Balin said and Thorin blinked his tears away.
"Thank you, Balin." The king said, looking at the old dwarf with sad eyes before turning and resuming the walk to his destination in mind. When they were far from the meeting room, he turned to Dwalin.
"You are dismissed for the day. You know where to find me." Was all Thorin needed to say and Dwalin nodded before leaving. Thorin walked alone from that point, going down a number of steps before he entered a room wherein the moonlight is its only source of light. He ordered the servants to keep this room clean, for in it laid the most valued treasure in his whole life.
At this point, Thorin looked at the three tombs before him with glassy eyes. He was afraid that he did not fulfill his part of the contract, where in if she died, she would be burned in a funeral pyre just like her people's tradition. For Thorin, she was too beautiful and too loved to be degraded to ashes. So he kept her and her nephews in this room, in stone caskets with a marble cover with their carved figures laying down and resting peacefully. He himself was the one who chiseled Helga's cover and his nephews took the honor of carving Amren and Alvor's, for they saved the two Durin heirs' lives. He placed a flower on both of their caskets and he placed the boquet right on top of Helga's hands, just above her stomach. He knelt beside Helga's tomb, bowed his head and placed his hand on top of her stone hand. Leaning towards it, he gently kissed the stone lips of the woman that he once loved.
The woman that he still loves.
No matter how much this stone figure resembled Helga, no matter how much he worked so hard to be able to capture every detail of Helga, he only managed to exactly capture one detail, and that was the coldness of this statue to her skin at the moment. He sobbed and clenched his hands, letting all his grief out, and letting himself be weak for once. Was this his punishment for not being able to protect her? This hole, this emptiness in his heart?
"I'm sorry," He said, his sobs echoing throughout the moonlit room. "I'm sorry..." Somewhere hidden in the hallway of the dragon rider's tomb was a lonely dwarf queen, letting her own tears fall at the sigh of her husband's weakness. She tried her best not to reach out and take him in her arms. He needed time to grieve, and when he is done, she vowed that she will be there to pick up the pieces, and love him no matter what feelings he will return.
Dear readers! Most of guessed right! Dear Helga did die. How is she going to be with Thorin now, that not only a wife, but death keeps them apart? D: I hope that her dead does not make you hate this story xD as I say -I know what I'm doing ;) Anyways, I'd love to hear your reactions! :D
And to those who left a review, a follow, and favorite, thank you very much! (Especially Arianna Le Fay and KashinaKairi and other unamned ones who followed me from Heart of Gold until this story!)
~Gabrielle 3