Epilogue II

Thorin stared down at his hand, scarred and dirty as it was, he couldn't help the sick churning feeling in his stomach.

This was wrong.

He felt a hand clap onto his shoulder, and turned to see Frerin, fully dressed in armor and a weak grin on his face. "Have faith brother," he said, "By nightfall Moria will be ours."

The scene was completely silent, all of the dwarves stood in their ranks waiting for the gates to open, for the inevitable battle to begin. Thror and Thrain had decided to try to reclaim the dwarf city from the orcs not two weeks ago, and he still remembered the worry in Hana's eyes as he told her the news. He had assured her that they would win, that the battle was staggered in their favor and that he'd return to her, and he did what he could to believe in his own words.

But something just felt off about the entire ordeal.

He glanced back at the medic tents, not half a mile away, near the surrounding foliage. Hana was in there somewhere, after being taught as a healer she was determined to be as close to the battle as she could, and while he was still uneasy about it, he was at least glad that she was not in the very depths of the skirmish itself.

His thoughts were interrupted as the doors to his people's city opened, and out began to pour a steady stream of orcs, coming down the hill towards the army of dwarves. Taking a breath, he gripped his sword and ran forward, leaving things up to a strong blade and fate.

/

Hana rushed back and forth, monitoring that status of the other medics and organizing where to put those waiting to be healed. The wounded never ceased to come, it seemed, and she thanked Mahal that Bofur had built her the artificial leg, for while it was nowhere near as functional as a natural limb, it still allowed her to walk from place to place at a relatively normal speed, even if her gait was slow and awkward. She tried to hold back the oncoming wave of emotions as she saw each new dwarf being carried in, each wound heftier than the last. She had a job to do, and there was nothing that would keep her from doing it.

"Hana!" a weak voice called for her attention, and she turned to see one of the younger trainees, kneeling over one of the dwarves that was just carried in. "Hana hurry!"

The dwarf girl made her way there as quickly as she could, and the sight that awaited her was something that she'd never be able to etch from her memory.

Her cousin Bifur was crumbled in the grass, blood seemingly everywhere, a small throwing axe lodged in his skull.

"He's alive," said the trainee. "I-I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't think we could remove it without causing more damage, and I didn't want to put pressure on it either."

Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, felt her voice catch in her throat "I…" she whimpered, "I don't know what to do."

"I'll go get Oin," the young boy suggested, and Hana nodded, pushing him on his way.

"Bifur," she said quietly, "Stay with me, we're going to get Oin. We'll get Oin and everything will be well. Bofur will come back and we'll have a huge meal, just the family. It'll be lovely."

She bit her lip, shaking her head. This was bad. It was a miracle that he was alive as it was, but her cousin would not last the night, surely. She could only imagine what injuries Bofur might have sustained, or Dwalin and Balin for that matter.

She skittered around the thought of Thorin as delicately as she could. Her husband would not die, he simply wouldn't. He'd return to her, or she'd come find him, but he would not leave her. He had promised her that much.

"I'm here," said Oin, kneeling down to examine Bifur, he pulled out an already bloodied cloth and began to clean the wound. "There's nothing I can do," he said softly, glancing up at her. "All we can do is make him comfortable for now."

She closed her fist, and dug her nails into the skin on her palm. She wouldn't cry. Bifur wouldn't have wanted it. She watched as some medics hoisted him up on a stretcher, and laid him out in the field where the other terminally wounded patients rested, being kept company by several dwarves as they did what they could, which was very little. What scared her was how large that field was beginning to be.

"Come," said Oin, hoisting her to her feet. "There will be a time to mourn, but it is not yet, others still need your help."

Hana nodded weakly, and moved on to the next patient, a dwarf with a sword protruding from his gut. She quietly set to work at keeping pressure on the wound, and at cleaning it the best she could while applying whatever salves that stood a chance at helping. That one eventually died.

It was near noon when they brought in Frerin.

The Thorin look alike had a dagger twisted into his gut, and was writhing in pain as the other medics attempted to calm him. Hana rushed to him when she first caught sight of the dwarf.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to keep him talking as his breath became shadow, blood seeping out from his lips and nose, trickling down into his beard and staining his teeth.

"Hana," he spluttered, letting out a groan. Ignoring the way his voice sounded so much like Thorin's, Hana moved to press against the wound which was bleeding profusely. By this time she was elbow deep in dwarf blood from the events of that day, but Frerin's wound was severe, and it made her heart hurt.

"Hana," he said again, reaching for her forearm, "Hana how bad is it?"

"Not now," she muttered, letting another medic take over and reaching for ointment from her pack, but Frerin's hand stopped her.

"Hana please," he whispered, coughing up blood. "Am I going to die?"

Her eyes glazed over with tears as she met his deep blue ones, but she didn't have the heart to say anything. He seemed to understand, and nodded.

His hand on her arm began to shake, and she heard a medic cry out from beside her as more and more blood came from the wound. Hana reached in her pack, but stopped when Frerin spoke up. "Don't waste it on me." He said, "Not if I'm doomed. You might as well send them away," his voice grew softer. "It's no use now, is it?"

"It is!" she protested, "Thorin would never forgive me if I let you go, I would never forgive me!"

"Tell Thorin I love him, will you?" Frerin asked, "Would you tell him that for me? And Dis and Fili and Kili, and my father and…"

"You're going to be fine," she assured, trying to ignore the way his grip on her arm was loosening. "I will take care of you."

"I'm sure you will." He said quietly, his hand slipping from her arm and onto the ground, limp.

"Ma'am?" one of the medics asked from beside her, and Hana brought her hand up to brush a few stray hairs away from his face which looked so much like Thorin's. Her fingers were coated with blood as she moved down past his soaked beard to feel for a pulse, and there was none.

Shakily, she reached out and closed his eyelids, bringing his hands to rest on his chest. "Here passes Frerin, son of Thrain, brother to Thorin and Dis. Let Mahal welcome him home warmly."

/

Later that day, as things grew quiet; Hana went to find Bifur, who was miraculously still alive. More than anything she wished to stay with her cousin, to comfort him in his last hours, but she was still needed elsewhere. She dressed his wound as gently as she could, being sure not to put pressure on his swollen skull, and then she stood.

"Hana!" she heard Oin call, and turned. "Dis needs you," said the old dwarf, "She is over with the newest set of wounded."

She nodded and made her way to the where a group of dwarfs milled about, some well, some wounded, and some dead, only to find Thorin's sister crumbled on the ground, face buried in her skirts.

"Dis," she said gently, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder as she knelt down. The dwarf woman lifted her head to reveal an agonized face, tears streaming down in an unceasing flow.

"They brought my husband back, he didn't make it."

The words were so simple, but they struck something in her that made Hana gather Dis up into her arms, and cry with her sister in law. It was not fair, not a single part of it.

"What about Fili and Kili?" Thorin's sister asked. "What are we going to do?"

"Shh," Hana said, running a hand through Dis's hair, this being all she could do.

/

The Battle of Azanulbizar ended in favor of the dwarves of Erebor. But there was no feast, nor song. For their dead was beyond the count of grief.

Thorin's eyes glanced about the scene; death was in every corner of his vision. He could still see his grandfather's head rolling towards him, and his father disappearing into the mass of fighting dwarves and orcs to battle Azog. He could still feel the pale orc's mace against his oaken shield, and he could still hear the wail he let out as he sliced away his arm.

He could smell the blood that seemed to cover every inch of him, and taste the stale air that was heavy with death. He still remembered the shouts of grief once the orcs had been driven back into Moria, once the dwarves began to realize the toll that the battle had left.

That had all been hours ago, and he was still searching for his father. He had not seen Thrain fall in battle, nor had he yet to find his body, so Thorin would not believe a single word from those who claimed his father was dead.

The tears had not fallen. He doubted they ever would. One could only fall into so much emotion after watching nearly every friend they had succumb to a blade, or stumbling upon their lifeless body crammed against a rock, surrounded by the vile likes of orcs. Thorin gripped the oaken branch that had saved his life, not caring about the splinters that sunk into the skin of his hand. Thrain had to be somewhere, anywhere.

"Thorin," came a quiet voice behind him, and he turned to see Balin. "It's nearly dark," said the old dwarf, "We need you back with the remainder of our people."

"My father is not dead," he said coldly.

"I never said he was," Balin replied, and when Thorin turned away, he gripped his wrist.

"He's not dead!" Thorin bellowed, ignoring how his voice cracked.

The old dwarf stared down at his feet, and Thorin's features softened. "Balin-"

"We lost Frerin and Dis's husband." said Balin quietly, "As well as my father."

Thorin felt his heart skip a beat. He sunk to his knees amid the carnage, not caring of the blood that soaked through his trousers.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"I wish to grieve too," said Balin, placing a hand on his shoulder, "But your people need you. They need a king Thorin, and you cannot ignore their plea, I beg you.

Thorin nodded numbly and rose to his feet. "Come," said Balin, putting a guiding hand on his friends back. "Let us go back to the encampment. You people need to see your face."

"They will hate me." said Thorin quietly. "They will hate what I've done, what this battle cost them."

Balin sighed as he began to lead Thorin towards the lights that were the fires of the encampment of the remaining dwarves. "This choice was your grandfather's, not yours, and now they look to you to lead. They will not hate you Thorin, they need you. I need you."

He glanced down at his hands, now nearly drenched in blood. At that moment, he decided he hated the color red more than anything else.

/

Amid rushing from persons to persons, and rejoicing upon Bofur's return, Hana caught glimpse of Thorin, making his way amongst the healing tents with Balin. She nearly fell to the ground in relief. It was well past dark, and she was assuming the worst had occurred.

She had heard news of Thror's and Thrain's death, and she had heard of how Thorin had slain the pale orc and led his people to a grim victory, but no news had come to her after that, which scared her entirely.

"Go to him," said Oin beside her, leaning in to examine the patient she was currently over. "I'll take care of him, you just go."

She nodded in thanks, and began to move towards where Thorin stood, gazing about the field of wounded, Balin had left him alone it seemed.

He stood tall and strong, although he had seemed to lose some of the pride that had used to reside in his features. Now his face was set in a deep frown, blood caking nearly every inch of his skin and his armor torn in several places, an oaken branch rested at his feet.

"Thorin," she said softly as she approached, and he turned to her, something dark and empty in his eyes. They stared at each other for the longest moment, neither quite knowing what to say. He had just lost his grandfather, father, brother and brother in law. He had just lost everything, and had the burden of a lifetime placed upon his shoulders. She couldn't begin to understand how he felt, and so she held out her arms, hoping that he understood.

It was like being mauled by a bear, the embrace that they shared. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder, squeezing her tightly against him. Hana breathed in the smell of sweat and blood, and she let her hand move to press into his back as she returned the embrace.

"Did Frerin suffer?" he asked after the longest moment.

"No," she assured, "He passed quickly. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you."

He whimpered, and sunk to his knees, Hana sinking with him.

"Thorin…" she started softly, having not the slightest idea of what to say.

She felt him shake, whether from exhaustion or grief she did not know, and it was all she could do to hold him close and shake with him, letting tears pour down like waterfalls as waves of relief and sadness crashed over her.

He sobbed, and she held him tighter. No one paid the two much heed, save Balin, who simply looked her in the eye and nodded, expressing what could not be expressed through words.

"I'm sorry," she said into his hair. "I'm so sorry, Thorin."

For what felt like hours Thorin simply sat there, his head in her shoulder and his arms laid heavily around her. It was both far too long and far too short a time for her. In those moments, Hana thanked Mahal.

And at the same time she cursed him.

/

Long time no see everyone! I hope you enjoyed this latest update; It took me a lot longer than expected. After watching the extended edition of The Desolation of Smaug and the trailer for the Battle of Five armies, I couldn't help but write, because I AM GETTING WAY TO MANY FEELS. I'm going to love and hate this movie so much.

I hope to be able to update soon, and I hope this chapter didn't hurt you too much!

-Infinityscripts

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