Okay! So the battle is short and Kayleigh's fate may or may not be decided. Two/three chapters left!
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Both Bilbo and I had been left to sleep well into the afternoon on the day of the battle so that by the time I actually got to the field Bolg, son of Azog was making a rip-roaring speech about revenge and everyone was chomping at the bit to get in to the fight. Needless to say our respective spouses were none too happy to see us there. Both had intentionally left us sleeping in the hopes that the battle would be over by the time we realised what had happened. Neither of us were too happy with the arrangement. When Bilbo and I faced each other and realised what had happened neither of us said anything. We ate the remnants of the what the armies had left over in the kitchens and then went to the armoury. We'd been taught how to dress in armour back at the beginning of a quest, ours still hanging on the side, a familiar mithril tunic waiting for Bilbo. We helped each other in to our armour and weaponry walked to the stables and moved our unimpressive ponies to the front of the line. Our spouses and adopted brother/nephew's faces would have been hilarious had both of us not been so pissed off.
"To think that I almost missed the main villain monologue because I overslept. Why don't you just shoot him Kee?" I knew the answer. Something about honour, which was all well and good but sometimes honour just didn't guarantee survival. Nori and I were of the same ilk in that respect. Before I could receive the speech though Legolas, who should've been standing behind us with the archers, shot Bolg in the stomach so that he was maimed but not dead enough to offend anyone's honour.
"The speech was getting a little long." Legolas grinned lazily earning himself a fatherly tap on the shoulder from his father. The orc and goblin army and Bolg let out mightily offended roars and just like that the battle began. There wasn't any time for Bilbo and I to be lectured. We waited very patiently as they began to charge us. Not ashamed to say it although in this culture I probably should be, I threw up. God I don't think I can even begin to describe how scared I was. At least I understood that I was definitely going to die. Poor Bilbo, from the most peaceful race in all Middle-Earth, his fear must have been tenfold. The moment we were overtaken by the orcs and the hacking began Bilbo was braced against Thorin's side. We'd made the plan of him putting the ring on and staying low that he could kill Bolg. Both Fee and Kee stayed around me to defend me as I had my moment.
Let me tell you about battles. They are not as epic as they are in films. They do not last half an hour or come with their own soundtrack. All you can see and smell is blood, screaming and crying. If you can actually detract your attention from staying alive as much as possible of course. In reality they last maybe five minutes and it is brutality the likes almost none can comprehend, save those who have been there. I had a saving grace after my episode by shooting an arrow in the direction of a goblin biting Fee's shoulder. About a minute in to the destruction I was able to gather myself enough to shoot my arrows and kill a fair few number who made their way towards us three. When I ran out I made my way to collect some out of people's bodies and eyes but Fee wouldn't let me leave the protective circle I was encapsulated it. Legolas somehow flew past and dropped some for me. As I went to get them an enemy arrow hit my thigh. I went down. Fee was instantly there with his own dripping wounds although none fatal. I would be majorly pissed off if somehow they were. I turned my attention to the field where it looked that most of the enemy had fallen. I could just make out Bilbo ducking, weaving and about to plunge his tiny letter-opener in to Bolg. My second arrow was accidental friendly fire and hit the shoulder. Oh my god I was going to die a Boromir death, the exact opposite of what I wanted. Bolg's defeated roar echoed over the battlefield just as a desperate orc decided to pop up out of nowhere and bury his sword in my chest, forcing me down until I was on the floor. Sly bugger. Both Fee and Kee took their sweet time in hacking the bastard to death. When a surprisingly well-looking Thorin and a shaking Bilbo arrived in time for my wonderfully emotional farewell speech I knew the battle had ended and I was most definitely going to die. Everyone else knew it too. I tried really hard not to cry but when Fee and Kee began gross sobbing I couldn't help it.
"You'll come back though? You'll come back just once more." Fee asked as he gripped my hand.
"Give me a month to try Fee. And if not. Well. We had a good run didn't we?" By Durin's Beard I had mouth blood. My mother, a doctor, always told me that if blood was coming out of the eyes, ears or mouth then you should probably say your prayers to whatever god you follow. Well Aulë, if you don't get me out of this one safe and sound I'll trample up to your Halls myself and tear it to the ground with my hands. I will devote my afterlife to your destruction. Probably not the most endearing prayers of all time.
"No." Thorin said. No? No? Fuck you Thorin. Not gonna lie but we had a pretty fantastic run. Meeting, fall in love, discovering we're each other's Ones and then getting married. Oh not to mention defeating trolls, forming alliances with elves and reclaiming a mountain. Fan-fucking-tastic if you ask me, "you'll be coming back. No dwarf in our family would be so defeatist." Scolding me and fully accepting me as I die and all in the same sentence. I almost laughed but my blood made me choke, "why this time?" I raised an eyebrow.
"The Line of Durin Thorin. The entire line." Instantly the king's face shuttered with an emotion he was too constipated to express. I coughed up more blood convinced I'd drown in a macabre fashion. Fee curled up to my side and his lips against my cheek was the last thing I felt.
I woke up a second later staring at the ceiling of my room. The room I used to inhabit in childhood with all the marks left over from my old posters. I shot up in the bed with wide, confused eyes. Everything seemed the same. The dream-catcher hanging over my window with it's lace nets. The deep jewel green of my walls. My floor-to-ceiling books built over the years with a new addition. I slipped out of my bed and picked it up with trembling hands. A guide to the area in which I'd taken that long fall. It had clearly been wet at some point. I froze as the door to my old bedroom opened. My mother stepped in with a tray of tea. I remembered the tea pot. I'd dropped it at one point and received such a row.
"Well here you are Karnok. Is it Karnok today or Kayleigh?" She added drily.
"Kayeligh." I stammered out. My mother gave a delighted squeal, started crying and embraced me. I dropped the book I'd had in my pocket when I fell in to the sea.
What the ever living fuck?