A/N: A sad chapter, but it is not the end.
And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight
(Goo Goo Dolls – Iris)
War had come at last to the Lonely Mountain. Goblins and Orcs leaded by Azog the Defiler, with his son Bolg at his side, against Dwarves and Elves and Men. Following Elrond's speech, Thranduil reasoned that the enemy of your enemy is your friend, and few enemies had the ability to make others conjoin forces as the orcs. It was a terrible battle, not expected by the Free Peoples, but that the orcs had been preparing since they had notice of Durin's line seeking to retake Erebor.
Thanks to the ravens, the Free Peoples had their chance to prepare themselves, and knowing the size of the Orc army they knew their only hope was to lure them into the arms of the Mountain and attack them from above, making their stand in its spurs. There was no time to summon more help, nor to make any other plan. Dain was told to come rounding the Mountain from the North to take them from rearguard; the elves took the southern spur and men and the Company took the Eastern spur. The enemies swarmed, rushing into the ruins of Dale; some brave men stood them and feigned a resistance, so as a bait for them to follow their draw back and be driven into the arms of the Mountain, as Gandalf hoped; all they could do was to clean the way off orcs and wargs the better they could.
The elves were the first to charge upon the enemies, for their hatred for the orcs was old and bitter. Many an arrow found its path into a dark heart, and many a spear made its way into a menacing gnarl, killing both warg and rider. Sorrowful enough, many elf that would live long merry ages fell that night, and would wander in the woods no more.
The Company mingled its efforts with the men that were leaded by Bard, as the Master of Lake-Town had stayed behind with his people, where he found it to be safer. The orcs scaled the Mountain as they could, and they were far too much to be bothered by the amount of them that fell under the fierce defense of dwarves and men, as they feared Azog more than death herself.
When Dain's army reached them it was not too soon, and this unexpected reinforcement barely changed the balance of the fight; for nor elf nor men of the Lake had come for a widespread battle, but mostly for a show of bellicosity aimed to intimidate Thorin and his Company, no more than this. But Azog had planned this battle in the hatred of his heart, and they were many, and foul.
Fili, Iris and Bilbo had lightened a small fire enough for them to light their small hand bombs and throw them into the midst of bunches of orcs, or, better still, when they could haul them to groups of warg mounted orcs, because then the fire would take into the fur and spread, like it did back in the pine patch after leaving the Goblin's den. The hobbits had a wonderful aim, but had to take care not shot in a range that could harm their allies. When the bombs were over, Iris and Fili got their swords and went into the fray. Bilbo, being almost as war-shy as Wolfram, put on his ring and disappeared, so he could at least escape from being purposely aimed for.
Then it all happened too fast. One moment Ellen was close to Kili and Thorin, and the next one the tide of orcs had swept them apart. The elf fought her way back to where she had seen them last time, and joined Lily in the way, shooting the arrows of her last quiver. Soon the dwarf would have to use her sword if she was to defend herself. Iris and Fili came running from the other side, the four blades wielded as if by one single mind. Then they heard a shouting of joy, for the eagles were coming to aid them. The orcs got fiercer, if this was possible, perceiving the odds had turned against them.
The two families were fighting close together again, but the orcs around them were wild with fear and had nothing left to lose. Thorin blocked a mighty blow from one of them, but a heavy mace caught his back, making him drop to the ground. Fili was close enough to kill that one, but Iris had been dragged from his side by the swarm. None saw from where the black feathered arrow came, and if it was by sorcery or bad luck that it found its way through his helm and got into his throat. The blond dwarf dropped one sword and put his hand on the wound, confused; then he saw his own blood washing down on him, knelt, and fell down for the last time.
Lily and Kili were doing their best with their swords, both of them out of arrows, when she saw her loved one and his nephew on the ground. She cried as she ran, Kili at her side shouting wild in his pain. Ellen escaped a mighty blow when an eagle caught the orc that was about to hit her and flew off with him, and then she saw them both running to the place where King and Heir had fallen. A dark sense of foreboding alarmed her, and she ran to them.
"No! No! It cannot happen! It won't!"
As the elf ran she saw a picture that would remain forever in her memory. Lily took Orcrist from Thorin's limp hand and wielded it fiercely at the last orcs in range. Kili knelt beside his brother and called his Khuzdul name, shaking him in despair, oblivious of the battle still around him. Ellen was out of reach when she saw the upcoming orc and shouted for Kili. He turned around in time to avoid the first blow, but he had dropped his sword and was unable to reach for it before the second blow came on his chest, tearing his armor. Lily heard her aunt's shout and turned to him in time to behead the foul orc, and then Ellen reached them.
"No! No! Not Kili, no!"
"He is bleeding too much, try to stop it!" Lily cried.
"How?" Ellen panicked.
"Find the cut, apply pressure! I must see Thorin, I heard him moan when I was close to him!"
"Go!"
The eagles were doing a magnificent job, and the area around the women had been swept free. Lily was right, Thorin was internally injured, plus several wounds, but not dead. She muttered softly to him as she tried to make him more comfortable, freeing him from his helm and broken armor the best she could, avoiding to move him too much.
"You will be fine, I'll take care of you, hold on, my love, my king, my everything!"
But he did not stir, and she was unable to move the heavy built dwarf from the battle field alone. She kept murmuring low, easing his head in her lap, caressing his beard and strands of hair, kissing his forehead while her own tears ran freely down her cheeks.
While she was at this, her aunt was deep in trouble with Kili. She loosened Kili's armor and tore his garment wildly, looking for the bleeding that was taking him away from her. Ellen found it on his right side, close to the shoulder, and tried to keep it shut with her hand, but it didn't seem to be working. His breath was shallow, his skin was pale, and the blood kept gushing from the wound. She managed to take off her left vambrace so her hand would be more free to press on his body. How could he survive without all that blood? Would he die? Why should that faithful dwarf die this way? It was not fair!
Her mind ran wild in her despair, but then it stuck her. If her faithful chosen one had been heard by his Vala before, could she be heard too? Despair was stronger than her Cartesian mind.
"Varda! Mahal! Hear my plea!"
She cried as she looked up at the night sky, half expecting to see them there.
"I have no beard I can promise for Kili's life, so I sacrifice what I have and he lacks!"
Ellen took her sword and made a cut in her left forearm. The blood gushed out as she winced for the pain, and pressed her wound against his.
"Mahal! Varda! Hear my plea!"
She lowered her head to his chest, and could hear his heart beat slowing down. Then it stopped.
It could not be! No! She would sacrifice anything to have him back, anything!
"Varda! Mahal!" She cried out once more, desperate tears striking her face. "I make the choice of Lúthien!" (1)
Mahal was really moved by Ellen's plea, but with so much dying that night it was difficult to chose what pleas should be granted and what ones denied. And she was no dwarf, after all. But then, making the choice of Lúthien? Wasn't it a little too much?
"Tintallë, what do you think of this case?"
The blue shining lady looked down with him to the battle field.
"She is not joking, this elf will really die out of grief if Mandos takes this one dwarf."
"She doesn't even have royal blood to make this kind of choice, does she?"
"Come on, don't be so bureaucratic! This boy has royal blood, it should be enough; and, royal is who royal does, don't you think so? She is giving her own blood for him, how many royal blooded ones do you know who would do this?"
"Hmm, it seems you made up your mind already."
"Aulë, my friend, the boy has already proven faithful to you more than once, why don't you think kindly of him? And, as for her, a willing heart should not be denied."
"His wound is deep."
"Nothing that your forge cannot mend."
"His heart doesn't beat."
"Nothing that your hammer cannot fix."
The mighty Vala nodded at her.
"Let's be done then."
His heart was not beating. She was losing him. The one man who moved her heart in years was going away. Ellen could not stand it. It was too much for her, and she broke. The elf cried hard, oblivious to the remnants of battle around her. She sobbed deeply, unwilling to admit his death. The wind swept a cloud away, showing the pale light of the moon. She was sad, and she was angry. When she realized he would really be leaving her, she could not stand it, and in her anger her right hand closed into a fist and hit hard on the middle of Kili's chest, and then she collapsed over him, crying.
Then she heard it, with her head close to his chest. Softly at first, but it could not be mistaken. His heart was beating. He coughed and took in a deep breath.
Then she felt it. Her forearm was kind of burning at the cut she made, and she felt Kili's skin getting hot around the wound. She took her arm from his chest and looked down at the gashes. They were closing before her eyes, both bleedings stopped at the same time. Ellen looked at Kili in disbelief. They heard her. The Valar heard her plea and Kili was back to her.
The eagles had come and made their stand in the battle, that for their unexpected help (called for by Gandalf, of course) should be called the Battle of the Six Armies, instead of five; Beorn had come, too, in his bear form, and made a difference, along with Radagast and his rabbits, that if didn't do much in fighting did a lot in making the enemy confused, and so, easier to get fought.
After the battle was over, Bilbo was hard to be found, as he got a stone thrown in his head, and even with a helm it was enough for him to get knocked down. But found he was, as he was strongly looked for, as were all members of the Company, for Thorin's injuries were serious and non amendable, even to Gandalf and Radagast and Thranduil himself, to whom Thorin granted his forgiveness. He too had fallen to a gold sickness, and understood Thranduil's greed, and in this darkest hour he was even able to relate to him. Thorin was making his best to say his farewell to every and all of his subjects and closest friends. Even Wolfram was called to get out of Erebor to part from him, and thanked him for rising his daughter to the measure to be a queen.
When Bilbo was found, he was shoved at once to the tent where Thorin was made to rest; Gandalf himself made him get in, glad for seeing him in this dark hour.
"It was a nearly disastrous business, but here you are, Bilbo my friend, and you are looked for." He lowered his voice. "Thorin calls for you. It is a grave moment, if you take my meaning." They entered the tent. "Hail, Thorin. I have brought him."
Thorin looked up at the hobbit, who knelt on one knee, filled with sorrow, and took a hand in his.
"Farewell, my good burglar! I go now to the Halls of Waiting, where I will not be ashamed to be in the presence of my forefathers."
"Farewell, o King Under the Mountain! It was a bitter adventure, and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet, I am glad I had a chance to share it with you, as no Baggins would ever deserve."
"Don't say harsh words to yourself, kind child of the West, for there is more good in you that you know; some courage and some wisdom, in the right measure. If food and cheer and song were valued more than treasures and gold, this word would be merrier indeed. Fare you well, my friend!"
His pain struck eyes left the hobbit and sought for his living nephew, who had an arm in a sling, then to the strange elf he learned to trust, and back to Kili. He should be fast, the inner bleeding would not stop, his time was short, and he knew it by the way his left shoulder pained although there was no damage to it. He could not even lay down for the pain, just sat leaned on some pillows.
"You both." Kili leant closer, not to let him exert himself talking out loud. "Don't forget to give Durin's bloody line some heirs." He glanced at Ellen, then back to Kili, and then tightened his hand around Lily's. "It is already too late for me, now." One more painful breath. "Tell your mother I love her…"
"I will." Kili whispered.
"And to forgive me for Fili…"
Then a great sob found its way up Thorin's throat. Lily cried his name as the blood sipped out of his mouth, the once star shining eyes found a target in the distance and begun to tarnish, as Lily embraced him hard one last time and heard him whisper to the stars.
"Durin…"
They sat on a log afar from the others and leant on each others shoulders, Kili's body still shaking with sobs of grief, Ellen's eyes shedding silent but non-stopping tears. His trembling voice came to her as a faint whisper.
"It should not be so, it wasn't meant to be this way, it shouldn't!"
She gathered up her strength from she didn't know where when the already known dizziness overcame her. She wept away the tears that kept flooding her eyes and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes.
"You are right, it was not meant to be this way. It was meant for you to die with your brother, protecting your fallen uncle, and the first line of Durin would have ceased to be."
His sobs gave way as he stared at her in shock. It was always uncanny when she darted her otherworldly knowledge of fate, and he thought about how hard it must be on her to have memories of things that could affect the future and be unable to reach them until it was too late.
"It should have been different, but, I don't know why, the Valar heard my plea, and here you are, Kili, King Under the Mountain."
"I don't feel prepared to be a king, it was never something I looked for. Of course I had the same training my brother had, but I never took care, kingship was never in my thoughts." He sobbed in dismay. "What shall I do? This quest was for Uncle to take back Erebor, he was to be the King Under the Mountain, and Fili would succeed him, and I was the careless nephew and brother, nothing more. What shall I do? How will I make Erebor the kingdom it once was? Or even a shadow of it? I have not the skills a king must have."
They embraced once more, but her mind was spinning fast. Then she realized.
"But you don't have to."
"Don't I have to what?"
"To have the skills a king must have. Or, at least, all the skills you believe a king must have."
"What are you talking about? You never had any training on kingship matters, as long as I know."
"No, I hadn't, I had something else, but it will do. You think you have not the skills of a king, but you don't have to."
"What…?"
"All you have to do is to round yourself with reliable people who have the skills the kingdom needs, and then make them do what has to be done."
"I don't understand."
His eyes where lost.
"Kili, it is right here, around you. Do you think Thorin chose these ten guys out of nothing?"
Ellen started to point the dwarves close by, her mind racing.
"You said yourself you are inexperienced with kingship things, but no king rules alone. You can take counsel with Dain Ironfoot in the first years, even if he has his own realm to take care for in the Iron Hills. He is kin, of course he will help to train you in whatever may be lacking in your training for kingship. You can always count on Balin's advice, as long as he is with us. Dwalin and Bifur are experienced warriors, they can train people, coordinate Erebor's security body."
He began to take her line of reasoning. Albeit his pain, in his body and in his soul, the royal blood in him was making him turn to the needs of his people.
"Then there is Ori."
"Ori?"
"Yes, Ori. Take him to record the history of the realm, of its losses, of its conquests. A people who forgets the past is doomed to repeat its mistakes. Let Ori record what there is to be recorded, ever. And then his brother Nori."
"Nori? He was the most strange choice Uncle made. Not that I don't like him, but I know he has a way of twisting things to what suits him best."
"And do you think a skill like this should be thrown away or be put to the service of the kingdom?"
"To the service of the kingdom, of course."
"Back at my place we call it diplomat. Let Nori be our Maquiavel."
Kili wondered what a makiawell might be.
"Bombur is fully able to take care of all the supply chain Erebor needs, Bofur can take on culture issues…"
"Culture issues?"
"I know you dwarves love to work, but everyone must have his share of music, dance, personal interrelationship opportunities…"
It made some sense.
"And there are Óin and Glóin. Did you notice how they are always thinking of how to better things? Better the way a pack can be carried, better the way a sword can be sharpened, did you see how they managed to make our camp down the mountain homely?"
"Sure. It surprised me."
"Any town, be it over or under a mountain, must have its maintenance. I really believe they are the ones to coordinate it."
A hint of a smile took his lips. Now that she said, it was all so clear.
"And Dori? He should not be the one to be forgotten."
"Sure not. But we are mentioning things that are, and he is meant for things that are to be.
"What do you mean?"
"Children, Kili. I have never found someone with more patience than Dori to teach, explain, train, guide, and instigate thought. Erebor will need him if it is to last more than one generation."
(1 – The Choice of Lúthien: Lúthien Tinúveil was an elf princess who chose mortal life in behalf of the life of Beren, her human husband. Arwen also made this choice, to be wife to Aragorn.)
Why you should not skip next chapter: Because it's never too late to say goodbye.
Any review?