Disclaimer : I own nothing. Everything you recognize belongs to either the genius of J.R.R. Tolkien, or to Peter Jackson or to the singers/bands whose songs titles (no lyrics) are quoted in this story.

This chapter's title belongs to Led Zeppelin.

Genre: Romance

Rating: M - aftermath of battle in this chapter

Pairing : OC/Thorin

Notes : OMG ! Thank you so much for all the reviews for last chapter! I was so happy to receive such a feedback, especially with the dark turn of Dwia's lonely and desperate adventure.

This new chapter is quite long and, as you will read, much will be revealed about the main character's fates. When I started thinking about this story, I first wrote the main content of each chapter and the ending. That's the way I write. After this chapter, there will be an epilogue.

I will say this again : thank you so so much to everyone that read, fav, follow or review to this story! It's my first (long) fanfiction in English and it has been an amazing way to get to work on this language.

On with the story now ! :)

Chapter 25 : Stairway to heaven

It was the end.

She was going to die of cold here, on the side of the Great East Road.

A stupid adventurous half-dwarf woman who thought she could change the course of the future, who just wanted to fight for those she loved.

What a sad way to go, indeed.

The night seemed endless, the wind and cold harsher with each second.

The snow grew more solid and drew a greyish coat on the floor around her. It melted in her hair, and she shivered harder. Her body felt numb, her mind blurry.

Dwia fell into unconsciousness as dawn crept on the hills of the Wild.

She did not hear a rush of feathers breaking the silence, nor did she saw the giant eagle landing next to hers and Pebble's still forms.

As Radagast stepped on the ground, his face was worried.

He rushed to Dwia's side, placing a riddled hand on her forehead, making sure she was still alive. Her heart was beating, slowly.

The wizard carried Dwia carefully and steadied her frail body in front of him, on the back of the eagle.

The warmth of their mount would keep her warm during the journey back to the Green Forest.

Back to one of her homes.

Dwia was not cold anymore. A ray of light was warming her face, waking her up as her face instinctively reached towards the light.

When she opened her eyes, she thought she was experiencing a flashback.

She was back in her own room, at Radagast's house, in the safety of the forest. Her usual warm brown blanket covered her body, and her travel pack rested on the side of the bed.

The carpet and wardrobe were a bit dusty, but otherwise, everything in the room had not changed.

And it was such a comfort.

She was safe, in a familiar place, no doubt with her longtime friend nearby.

She pushed her body up on her elbows and tried to get her eyes accustomed to the bright light pouring from the window. Her mind was dizzy and she still felt very tired, so she laid back on the bed, put the blanket higher on her face and fell back to sleep for a couple of hours.

She awoke to the sound of the door creaking open.

Radagast stared at her from the threshold, his eyes worried, carrying a small breakfast tray.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a gentle smile.

"Much better, thanks" she answered, returning his smile faintly.

"You gave me quite a fright there, young lady. With the fever and all. But thanks the Gods, I reached you in time."

He put the breakfast tray on the bedside table, and handed her a steaming mug of hot milk.

She took the mug and grasped it, her eyes wide.

"I had a fever?"

"Well, yes. You caught a nasty cold wandering in the Wild in the snow on your own!" His tone was serious, almost scolding.

Dwia felt herself blushing and stared at the content of her mug sheepishly.

"I'm sorry" she said in a small voice "I was so desperate."

"I know why you did it, I understand. But I was worried nonetheless."

Dwia gaped at him for a second. Of course, he knew. He was a wizard, one of the Five.

He would have watched her from afar.

"How did you find me? Did my prayers reach you?"

"I'm one of Guardians of Middle-Earth" he answered, his eyes twinkling "I have my ways."

"Thank you so much" she said, putting the mug back on the tray. She reached forward and hugged him. "I missed you."

"I was never truly out of reach, child" he stated, patting her back gently.

Dwia let the tears of relief fall. Radagast was her guide, and her friend. He had been for most of her life. Like a constant wise presence, he had been showing her the way to her own destiny.

"Now, drink and eat all that" he said pointing at the tray "It must be a while now since you ate anything."

Dwia's eyes went wide at his statement and she stared back at him anxiously.

"How long have I been sleeping?" she asked.

"Today is the third day since I brought you back, the fourth since I found you nearly frozen next to your poor pony."

"Four days!" she exclaimed "Four days!" she repeated.

Dwia was panicking now.

She clasped the wizard's hand in her small one and started firing questions at him.

"Have you heard anything about the Company? The company of Thorin Oakenshield ?! They're heading to Erebor, to reclaim the Mountain! There's a hobbit with them. Please Radagast, do you know anything?!"

"Calm down Dwia" he said, patting her hand "I know about the Company. I met with Gandalf on the western edge of Mirkwood a few days before coming to get you. He told me the Company has reached the Mountain. There was word from Lake-Town as well a week ago: the dragon is slain, killed by Bard, a young man of Esgaroth."

It was a lot of information to register at once, but Dwia managed to focus.

"But, what about the Company? Are they all safe? Did they settle back in Erebor?"

"That, I do not know. Gandalf did tell me though that the Elven King of Mirkwood and Bard allied themselves and are trying to get a part of the treasure for their own. They want to negotiate with Thorin, the Exiled King."

"The Elven King?" Dwia spat, the anger apparent on her face "Why would he get a part of the treasure? How dare he?! When he left the dwarves of Erebor to their deaths under the fire of the dragon!"

Radagast was smiling at her.

There was no denying the girl's heritage now. She was a dwarf through and through.

"Well, apparently, the Company escaped Thranduil's dungeons right under his nose" explained Radagast "You can imagine that did not help improving the relationship between the two races."

Dwia smiled at that. She was so proud of the Company and of their bravery.

"Thranduil has no right, no right whatsoever to claim anything that belongs to the dwarves" she stated firmly "I know that Thorin will help the people of Esgaroth, as the dwarves did in the past. But the elves better go back to the cowardly comforts of their bloody forest" she groaned.

"Do not say that Dwia" said Radagast and his tone was serious and concerned now "The orcs have left the Misty Mountains, they're leading an army to Erebor as we speak. Dwarves and Elves must put aside their old grudges and ally before it's too late. This battle will rule the fate of all the different races and peoples of the area. We cannot lose it."

"A battle?" she breathed, her heart aching in her chest suddenly "When?"

"I don't know. In a few days. Gandalf was riding to Erebor when I saw him last. He will try to get the Dwarves, the Elves and Men to unite against their common enemy. It is the only way we might be able to stop this evil."

Dwia was stricken with shock.

Miles away from her, all those she loved would soon engage in a terrible battle. They could all die, and Erebor would no longer be ruled by the House of Durin.

And her heart would break into a thousand pieces.

She could not let that happen. Why did she not see any of this in her visions?

"Why? Why?" she was muttering under her breath.

"Why what, child?" asked Radagast, worried about the panic he could hear in her voice.

"Why didn't I see anything of this happen? In my dreams, I mean?" she said, her voice cracking with sobs. "It's been weeks, and weeks, since I last saw the Company in my visions. That last image I saw was Thorin running to his death to confront a giant pale orc! Why have I been left in the dark?"

Dwia was screaming now.

"What use is this ability of mine, if I can't help those I love?!"

Radagast sat closer to her and took her shaking body in his arms, as she finished by:

"What use am I if I can't make a difference?"

"Listen to me, Dwia" he said, straightening her to look in her eyes "I do not know how this ends. But I know this. You are not useless. You have a purpose in all this, I've always said so. And even beyond your abilities, your character, what you are brought a lot of good things to many people, starting with myself."

"Radagast…" she cried hugging him once more through her sobs.

He waited until she calmed down a little, and wiped some tears off her red cheeks. Once her eyes weren't so blurry, he stared at her and said, firmly:

"So, I say you eat all this and regain some strength, and we will leave together as soon as possible. To see if we can write our own end to this story?" he winked at her, as he got up.

Dwia beamed at him and nodded with a hopeful smile on her face.

The wizard added before closing the bedroom door: "I'll get the rabbits ready."

"Aye" she answered.

Hope was kindled.

They rode for three days and almost three nights in the forest until they finally reached the huge plain that had hosted what would soon be known as the Battle of the Five Armies.

It was the first dawn after the end of the slaughter.

Dwia felt like she had fallen into one of her visions again, the one of the aftermath of the battle of Azanulbizar, in front of the gates of Moria.

They were corpses everywhere: orcs, men, dwarves, elves… all bloody and all equals in death.

The sea of bodies seemed endless, and as she tried to look further, she was blinded by the crude light of the winter's sun.

Radagast was scanning the battlefield as well, searching for some survivors or some kind of encampment.

Dwia assumed that he had felt Gandalf's presence somewhere, because he soon took her hand and led her among the dead bodies. After walking for half an hour, Dwia felt sick with the smell of death, sick with worry, sick with panic.

They finally arrived at a gathering of white tents where survivors of the battle had regrouped, and where the wounded were being tended to.

Dwia let go of the wizard's hand, and felt again the fire in her veins, the crushing of her heart.

She began walking fast among the survivors, anxiously searching for a familiar face.

And she soon spotted a bald head covered with tattoos.

She ran as fast as she could to his side.

"Dwalin! Dwalin!" She could not prevent herself from screaming his name.

"Dwia?" he croaked, astonished to see her there.

She assaulted him with her hands and eyes, touching his face, his arms, searching for any kind of wound.

"Are you hurt?" she was asking frantically.

"No. No I'm fine. Just a few scratches, that's all."

But his eyes were sad and his face somber.

"Dwalin…" she said in a slightly hysterical voice, still clasping his forearms "Where is my father? Where is the King?!"

And then, she heard his voice behind her, and let go a sigh of relief.

She turned around quickly and hugged him fiercely, almost choking him in the process.

"Dwia? What are you doing here?" Bofur managed to ask, hugging her back.

They looked into each other's teary eyes, their hands trembling with emotion.

"Are you alright? Are you wounded?" she asked through her tears.

It would not be the last time she would say those words that day.

"Aye, I'm fine. Nothing serious" he answered with a small smile.

Then she noticed a trail of blood running from his left eyebrow, running its course through his beard. She gaped at him and frowned.

"That is nothing serious?" she asked angrily, pointing at his face.

"Don't worry. There are many more people with worse wounds than this to tend to, believe me."

"But you are my father" she said, raising her hand to his injured face "So I care."

Bofur stared at his daughter as he felt the left side of his face tingle and grow warm. Dwia withdrew her hand with a satisfied smile a few seconds after.

Her smile soon faded as she asked quickly, pressing his hands in hers:

"Now, where's Thorin?"

"In there" he told her in a low voice, pointing at a white tent, in front of which Gandalf and Radagast were talking quietly.

Dwia rushed towards the tent, leaving her bewildered father and a stunned Dwalin behind her.

"How did she do that?" asked the bald dwarf, touching Bofur's left eyebrow with a hesitant finger.

Bofur frowned and raised a hand to his face. The blood was gone, as was the wound. The skin was new and white, completely healed.

Bofur and Dwalin stood gaping at each other for a minute, before they rushed into the tent as well, following Dwia's trail.

The Exiled King lay on a camp bed, Oin at his side and Balin standing at his feet with a grave expression on his face. On the floor, there were a lot of bloodied rags. The King's armor had been removed from him, thrown away, the red still shining on the carvings.

Oin stood up and went to stand next to Balin, when he saw Dwia enter the tent.

She immediately kneeled next to Thorin and took one of his scratched hands in hers. She could not restrain her tears, seeing him so wounded. His body was covered in bloody bandages, his breath ragged as if his lungs were punctured.

"Thorin?" she whispered gently "Can you hear me?"

He was conscious but his eyes had trouble focusing. The image of her face came to him as if he was seeing her through a mist.

Her lovely green eyes and pink lips, now just a few inches from his face, like he had dreamed them so often.

"Dwia?" his low voice cracked "Am I dead already?"

"No. No… You're not" she answered her voice gentle and reassuring "You're going to get better, I promise."

"I'm blessed to have the chance…to see you one last time… Dwia…my love"

Thorin had trouble getting the words out, as if his whole being had been crushed under a huge weight.

"Listen to me, Thorin, your life is not yours to give up, it is mine. And I forbid it" she told him very seriously, kissing his bloody knuckles.

"Dwia" he said, sadly "My body's broken. I deserve to die. I could not resist the gold. I have failed, like my grandfather before me."

"No, you won't" she cut him and added in a desperate voice "You are what your fate made you. With your stubbornness, your flaws and your bravery, and I will heal you."

At this, Balin interrupted them and told Dwia gently:

"Dwia, lass. It is too late. You have to let him go."

"NO!" she screamed at him, for the first time in her life, standing in front of the four dwarves and two wizards that were watching the scene "NO Balin! I WILL heal him."

She kneeled again at the King's side and raised her left hand on top of his chest. Her palm grew yellow again and she closed her eyes to concentrate.

Thorin's wounds were fatal, she knew it. She would have to gather all her energy to heal him.

She had to cheat Fate.

She had to cheat Death.

The tent stayed completely silent as the minutes went by.

After a moment, Dwia's legs started to tremble and she had to grasp the side of the bed to steady herself, her left hand still pressed on the King's body.

Slowly, Thorin's breath became less ragged and some color returned to his stony face.

Finally, after a few more minutes, Dwia let her hand fall and her knees gave up.

She took a few deep breaths, and looked at Thorin's face. A relieved smile appeared on her tired features.

He already looked better and she could see that the blood had disappeared on his bandages, leaving only faint red lines on some of them.

Bofur came by her side and took her shaking body in his arms. The air seemed saturated to Dwia, and she was having trouble breathing.

"Take her outside" ordered Radagast "She needs fresh air."

Bofur and Dwalin led her outside the tent and sat her on the ground, both kneeling at her side.

"Dwia? Are you OK?" asked Radagast.

She wiped the sweat from her shiny forehead.

"Yes" she panted, resting her head on Bofur's shoulder "Just let me catch my breath, and I'll be fine."

For a couple of minutes, they stayed around her until she felt well enough to stand up again. She had never felt so drained in her life, like all her energy had been sucked up in her healing.

"You have to be careful with your ability, child" Radagast told her seriously "It could drain you till the point of no return."

"Aye" she nodded.

She took another deep breath and a small smile appeared on her face when she told him: "But I did."

"You did what, child?"

"Make a difference."

"That you did, lass" said Dwalin hugging her fiercely.

When he let go, Dwia came back to the harsh reality. She was on a battlefield. Many other dwarves were injured, and she still had work to do.

"Where are the others members of the Company? Any other wounded dwarves?" she asked them urgently.

"Aye" answered Bofur with a dark face "The two princes were heavily wounded as well."

"Take me to them."

And they all left in the direction of another white tent on the right side of the encampment.

A red dusk would soon cover the plain and darken the Lonely Moutain' shape, as a dark reminder of the blood spilt during the Battle of the Five Armies.

So ? What did you think of this chapter ? :)

I hope that you're all happy that Thorin will not die. It's already heartbreaking that he dies in the book and that we will see it in TABA...

I took the sentence "Thorin, your life is not yours to give up, it is mine. And I forbid it" from BBC's Jane Eyre, which is, in my opinion, the most beautiful and realistic adaptation of the book on screen.

Please review ! And have a great weekend :)