Chapter XII: Azog's Return
Thorin welcomed the fresh air that entered his lungs as he led his company out of the stench of Goblin town. The Goblin King, that poor excuse of royalty, had insinuated that Azog was still very much alive. Thorin did not believe a word of it, for he had personally severed the pale orc's arm off that day on the battlefield to reclaim Moria many years ago. How could any creature (no matter how foul like Azog was) survive the pain and infection of such a fatal wound?
However, despite his initial certainty, Thorin couldn't ignore the nagging feeling tugging inside him. What if, by some unexplainable work of fate, the pale orc had survived, just like the Goblin King had said he had? But Thorin quickly pushed the disturbing thought out of his mind - he would not allow himself to delve over such ridiculous thoughts. He still had a long quest to complete. Gandalf walked over to where Thorin was standing and did a quick head count of the company members.
"Where is Bilbo?" the Grey wizard asked with a deep frown.
"Where is our hobbit?"
Thorin inwardly groaned - the hobbit was indeed a burden. The other dwarves looked at each other and Nori muttered something about Bilbo slipping away when the rest of them were taken away by the goblins. Well of course he did, Thorin thought to himself angrily. He had overheard Bilbo's conversation with Bofur before they fell through the trap door, about leaving them to go back to the Shire. Let him go then, they will reclaim Erebor without the burglar.
"Mr. Bilbo saw his chance to leave, and he took it! We will not see our burglar again!" Thorin said angrily, but he was interrupted by a timid voice behind him.
"No he didn't," Bilbo seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and was now standing in front of the entire company.
Everyone except Thorin seemed quite happy to see their burglar again and began asking him how he escaped.
"Why did you come back?" Thorin asked authoritatively.
He wanted to know why indeed Bilbo had returned. The hobbit had made it clear before that he had no intention of assisting them on their quest any further. When Bilbo turned his head to face the dwarf King, there was a look in his eyes that Thorin had not seen in him before. The hobbit's eyes contained what looked like compassion, and some would have even called it courage.
"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right... I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong, that's home. That's why I came back... 'cause you don't have one - a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back, if I can," Bilbo said firmly.
There was a long silence that followed. The company grew solemn as they regarded the small hobbit in a new light. Thorin was also surprised yet touched at Bilbo's words. He realized that the hobbit did not have to risk his life to help them on their quest, yet he had stayed. Thorin respected that deeply. Bilbo's newfound attitude reminded Thorin of Sophie, and how she had also promised to stand by them to defeat the dragon Smaug. And Thorin had left her behind like she was no one important. Regret and sadness waved over him and although he could not admit it to his men, he wanted nothing more at that moment to go back and tell the young witch how important she was to this quest, and how important she was to him.
"Thorin!"
Thorin thought it was only his imagination when he heard the familiar voice that he had longed to hear again since leaving Rivendell. But it wasn't his imagination. The other dwarves began to cheer in pleasant surprise as they saw Sophie run towards them, her cloak billowing behind her. Thorin couldn't believe his eyes - Sophie was here in front of him. He grinned at her, but then stopped when he realized that something was not right. There was a sense of urgency in the witch's movements and she wasn't smiling at the company. In fact, Sophie looked absolutely terrified.
"Orcs! They're coming to kill us! We need to get out of here, NOW!" Sophie yelled at them.
It was at that point that Thorin realized he had led his men out of the frying pan, and straight into the fire.
"Run!" Gandalf yelled as soon as Sophie reached them.
The crunching sound the company made as their feet stomped over the dry branches and leaves was quickly drowned out by the howls and screams of the orcs riding towards them on their wargs. Sophie could see a gigantic warg only around ten meters behind them, snarling as it charged towards her. It was no use - they would be outrun in any minute.
"Quickly, up into the trees!" Gandalf directed.
Sophie watched Gloin step on Bombur's head to hoist himself up onto one of the thick branches of the tree in front of him. The other dwarves were also quickly climbing up the tree trunk before the orcs could get them. The dwarves were much fitter than Sophie was, and she doubted she could climb up the trees as nimbly as they had. The young witch was thinking about how she was going to climb up the tree herself when she felt two strong arms grab her waist and lift her up. She looked behind to see Thorin holding her close to him, a pained expression on his face. Thorin kept his arms around Sophie protectively as the wargs snapped their teeth inches from their feet. This was exactly the kind of situation Thorin had feared would happen.
"Whatever you do, don't let go," the dwarf King told Sophie as he helped her climb higher up the tree towards where Dwalin was hanging.
Upon seeing them, Dwalin nodded reassuringly and took Sophie from Thorin's hold. Thorin remained on the lower branch and looked around to make sure the rest of his men were alright, especially his young nephews. Fortunately, everybody appeared to be holding on, given the circumstances.
When Thorin looked down, he froze in horror and disbelief. There, riding towards them on a large white warg, was the pale orc whom Thorin had believed he had killed in the battle of Moria. Thorin heard Balin gasp next to him - the old dwarf had fought along beside him and had witnessed the scene where Thorin had cleaved off Azog's arm clean.
"It cannot be," the dwarf King whispered to himself, his eyes never leaving the cold and smug glare of the pale orc.
Azog watched amusedly as Thorin and his company struggled against the shaking trees where the wargs were clawing at, his malicious grin growing wider as the trees began to tip over on one side. Sophie let out a yelp of fright as her footing slipped through the gap. Luckily, Dwalin was quick to grab her wrist, otherwise she would have fallen and become warg dinner. The tree continued to tip over as the wargs relentlessly attacked it, and it was only a matter of time before the tree would fall down. Without letting go of Sophie, Dwalin yelled out to the other dwarves,
"Jump!"
Sophie was pulled along with the dwarf warrior to the bough of the neighboring tree where Gandalf was hanging onto. Bilbo and the other dwarves also jumped over just as the tree they had previously been residing in toppled over with a loud thud. In the distance, Sophie could hear Azog laugh cruelly at the company's helplessness and vulnerability. They were surrounded and had nowhere to escape.
Suddenly, a wave of heat whooshed past Sophie's head and she saw a small ball of fire fly out and hit one of the wargs. Gandalf had thrown a pinecone with which he had ignited.
"Quick! Sophie, use your wand to light up some more pinecones!" Gandalf ordered the young witch as he passed another blaring pinecone to Kili who took his aim at the orcs.
Without further delay, Sophie also began picking the pinecones that were hanging from the branches before pulling out her wand from beneath her cloak.
"Incendio!"
Instantly, flames arose onto the pinecones, which Sophie quickly handed over to Dwalin and Bilbo who were nearby her. The ground below them roared with orange flames and the wargs became more reluctant to carry on attacking. Thorin saw Azog's first surprised and then furious expression as he watched Sophie cast the fire charm.
The way the pale orc leered at the young witch made Thorin grip the branch he was holding onto even more tightly in anger. He could not help her - he could not help any of his men for that matter. Thorin had failed in looking after his company, and his chest grew tight to see Sophie shake in fear near him. Azog noticed the change in the dwarf King's demeanor and the hideous grin reappeared on his face. He had found out Thorin's weakness.
The pale orc stared at Thorin and spoke slowly in the black speech of orcs, "I will hurt your little witch first and slice her arm off in front of your eyes. And then I will kill you. Thorin, son of Thrain."
Thorin had had enough. He knew that what he was about to do next was near a suicide mission, but he had to do something, anything to protect his company - that was his duty as King. Thorin climbed out of the tree which had now virtually leaned over on a ninety degree angle, and he charged towards the pale orc with determined steps, his Orcrist held tightly in his hands. Azog remained seated on his warg waiting, the disgusting grin never leaving his face as the dwarf King got closer - this was exactly the way he had wanted Thorin to react.
Thorin didn't get so much as a chance to strike with his sword when Azog swung his menacing club high into the air before bringing it down onto the dwarf King's chest. Thorin felt all the air leaving his lungs and a searing pain in his chest that quickly followed the attack. He could hardly remain standing - the blow was even more powerful due to the height difference with Azog on his gigantic warg. Another blow in the same place on his chest sent the dwarf King slamming onto a sharp boulder in pure pain.
Thorin panted as he tried to remember how to breathe. His thorax felt as though it had been smashed in. In his crippled, lying position on the cold ground, Thorin could only manage to turn his head sideways towards the falling tree where his company was. He saw Sophie watching his helplessness with tears streaming down her pale face. She was crying and screaming out what seemed to be his name, judging by the movements of her lips. Thorin wanted to stay strong for her, and for all his men too - he needed to reassure them as their King. He tried to sit up and retrieve his sword that was lying next to him, but Azog was relentless. The pale orc directed his warg over the dwarf King's body and stared first at Sophie hanging on the tree, and then down at Thorin, with amused and evil eyes.
Thorin yelled in pain as the white warg sunk its teeth into his upper body. It began to shake him like he was a rag doll before throwing him against the rocks again. By this point, there was no more strength left inside Thorin and he could feel himself growing numb. A warm, wet feeling spread across his chest beneath his sturdy armor - he could feel himself bleeding.
Azog let out a mocking yawn before ordering a nearby orc, "Bring me his head."
Upon hearing his master's order, the orc scuttled over gleefully with a sharp blade. When he stopped in front of Thorin who was lying on the ground unable to move (despite his best efforts), the orc slowly lifted the sword high into the air to bring down onto the dwarf King's neck.
As the blade hung suspended in the air, Thorin turned his head to see Sophie one last time. He truly did love the young witch, he could admit to his feelings now, with death looming above him. But he knew was too late. Thorin's chest tightened, and not just in pain, as he grieved silently that he would die, never having confessed to Sophie how much he loved her.
