Chapter Fifty-Four: A Funeral and a Half
Fred Montgomery had been gifted with three things in his life. First, his wife, Hannah, had come sauntering in like the spring rain, beautiful and full of life and just what he needed. Next, came his Emelia. She was colicky and red faced, but she was just what he needed to grow up. Then, ten years after the first time he became a dad, Eddy. Sweet, like his mother, and loud like his sister, he filled out their little family in the best way imaginable.
Their life was perfect for eight years. Or at least, as perfect as it could be with limited funds and a hard-headed little girl who didn't much care for fish.
He still didn't understand that, but he had come to realize, as she got older and more articulate, that he liked that about her. It was a quiet irony, a fisherman's daughter not liking fish, that Fred had learned to appreciate. He should have known life with her wasn't going to be simple when Emelia opened her green eyes at him in the hospital after she was born.
There was fierceness in them, a stubborn energy that he knew would keep him on his toes for the rest of his life.
And she had.
He just never thought that it wouldn't be the rest of his life, but hers.
Fred rubbed his hand along the steering wheel and glanced at his wife, eyes searching her tired face for any sign of emotion into how she was feeling. He saw the usual things; sadness, regret, anger, desperation. There was something new that he hadn't seen before, however. Hopelessness. Six months of life without Emelia and his wife still hadn't been able to adjust. Not that he expected her to. People weren't meant to adjust from something like that, they weren't meant to move on, not really.
For Fred's part, he internalized.
He thought that would be best for Hannah and Eddy. Perhaps it wasn't, but he didn't know any other way to deal with the immense pain that radiated through his gut and made his ears ring almost constantly. At the moment, he could barely ear the soft sound of the radio.
"Turn it off, please," Hannah said quietly, turning her head to stare out the window. She was crying and she didn't want Eddy to see. Fred immediately clicked the radio off and glanced in the mirror, checking on their child, their remaining child, to see if he had noticed.
Eddy peered up at him in the rear view mirror, green eyes, so much like his sister's, glassy and red. He didn't have the benefit of life experience to understand that sometimes bad things happened for no reason at all. Sometimes, people didn't come home and that, while not okay, was not something that could be explained as a reality of the universe.
"Did you bring the note for Emmy?" Fred asked, trying to fill the silence that permeated the car in the absence of the radio. Eddy nodded and looked down at his lap, holding the paper in his closed fist.
"Mom helped me write it."
Fred pulled the car to a stop at the last stoplight in Kessog, gripping the steering wheel tighter. They had decided to bury Emelia in the same place as Fred's parents. It was a family plot in the corner of the cemetery, secluded and quiet. It was nice, all things considered, and Fred thought that Emelia would have liked it, if she had been able to pick. It was hard to tell, however.
Emelia had never been one for doing the expected.
She might have wanted to have her ashes spread in Schenectady, for all he knew, just because she liked the sound of the name. Of course, they didn't have any ashes to spread, or a body for that matter so that point was moot.
Hannah let out a shuddering sigh when they pulled up next to the cemetery and dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. She hadn't been able to bring herself to visit the burial site yet. Six months to the day and she still hadn't come to visit. To her, Emelia wasn't there, so they were only visiting a pile of dirt and the in-laws that Hannah had never bonded with.
Fred took Eddy every Sunday.
This week was different, though, beyond just that it was Hannah's first time back.
Today, despite the fact that Emelia had been gone for six months, they were having her funeral. Or at least, a funeral to the extent that Hannah could handle it. In June, after the search and rescue teams came up empty after five days of looking, they had decided to wait. They buried the empty casket and went through the motions, for their families and Emelia's friends from high school, but they hadn't been able to say their goodbyes in the way that they wanted. Fred wasn't convinced they were going to be able to do it today, but it felt unfair and disrespectful to wait any longer.
Fred got out of the car and stepped over to the backseat, opening it so he could help Eddy out. His son looked up at him and held out his arms, finding comfort in the babying for a moment before Fred set him down and ruffled his hair. Eddy tucked his note in his jacket pocket and grabbed Fred's hand.
Hannah walked around the car and stood next to them, eyes bloodshot and watery. She reached out and pulled Eddy to her, needing the feeling of the contact more than Fred did.
They walked in a straight line to the burial site.
The tree that hung low over the grave greeted them like a sentry, shielding them from the outside world as they gathered around their daughter's grave. It felt like they entered into a time loop, one where things never seemed to progress and the pain never seemed to dull.
Hannah collapsed to her knees next to him, hands digging into the dying grass as a strangled sob tore from her throat.
He wanted to comfort her, but he knew that wasn't what she needed. She needed to be alone, to mourn and to grieve. She needed to blame herself and to bargain. She needed to begin the process that she had delayed for six months and he couldn't do that with her.
To Hannah, if she closed her eyes and stopped breathing for a moment, could still imagine that their Emelia was still around. She could pinch her nose and shut out everything but her own heartbeat, the same heartbeat that seemed to flow through Emelia, and picture all the times before she fell through the ice and didn't come back.
Fred couldn't.
He was forced to live the reality of the loss, the pain and anger and hurt that bubbled up constantly.
He coped in other ways.
Coming to see her every week seemed to help, but the only thing that seemed to offer him relief was to imagine her somewhere else.
Fred Montgomery had never been one who believe in reincarnation in the positive sense. It could happen, but there was too much to worry about in this life to stress about another. Up until six months ago, that is. Now, he was as a firm a believer as there was. He liked to imagine Emelia reborn in the arms of some unsuspecting parents, unaware of how much grief and unbridled joy they were about to experience. He liked to imagine her safe and loved, even if he and Hannah couldn't give that to her any more.
Most of all, he liked to imagine her at peace.
And he thought she was, wherever she was, whatever plane of existence, or lack thereof, she was currently inhabiting, whether she was ghost, or a spirit, an angel or a demon. A blade of grass, or a ancient red oak tree. A newborn little boy or an elderly being at some far end of the galaxy, Fred liked to think his daughter was happy.
Emelia was not happy.
Her hands were covered in blood and sweat, making it hard to grip her spear. The cobblestones beneath her feet were slippery with blood and something a little thicker, coating her boots in a fine layer of gunk that smelled like death left out in the sun to rot for a while. Kili breathed heavily to her left and leaned back against the stairwell, shaking his arms as he took a moment to gather his thoughts.
The orcs, ten in total, had ambushed them shortly after the ground started shaking. They had barely made it past the first wall before orcs showed up, snarling and shooting arrows at them. Surprisingly, it wasn't actually the orcs that caused her bad mood. It was a combination of everything, in reality, but at the moment her largest grievance was with the large gaping hole in the retaining wall that let the orcs in.
That was going to cause trouble later, she was absolutely sure of it.
"You think it was an explosion?" Emelia asked, wiping her hands on her jacket as she looked back over at Kili. He pushed off the stairs and moved to stand next to her, sidestepping a dead orc scout with a scowl. He made the mistake of stepping in a particularly thick puddle of blood, causing a string of it to attach to his boot and follow him. She made a face and looked away, mouth curling into a grimace. He noticed almost immediately and wiped his foot, using the armor of the dead orc to clean the mess off. "Maybe that's what caused the ground to shake."
"We would have heard the explosion." He slung his bow over his arm and walked over to the wall, running his hands along the rock with a thoughtful look on his face. "Orcs don't have that kind of capability."
"Do dwarves?"
"Of course," He said, indignant at the very idea.
"Untwist your bra, it was just a question." Emelia smiled at the look he threw her over his shoulder and she walked over, shoulder her spear. Blood dripped down the blade and onto the handle, soaking her shoulder and down the back of her coat but she hardly noticed. Keeping clean was a lost cause at that point. "So what did it?"
"The orcs were just a scout pack," Kili said, voice petering off. "This was something else." Kili started talking to himself, turning away from her so he could look at the wall without her distracting him. "Something bigger."
She stepped back and turned around, putting her back to him.
The orcs were an interesting set dressing, she decided, in the most macabre was imaginable. She was rather proud of herself for killing three of them, not a single one by accident. She saw the first one she killed on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding steadily from the gaping hole in his chest that she had given him. The second one, a tiny little thing with a brutal streak, had been harder to kill, but she did it eventually, having been forced to get a bit scrappier than she would have liked. The third one was the easiest. So easy, in fact, that she almost felt bad. Almost.
She was thankful it was so cold outside otherwise the smell would have been horrendous. Still, the metallic stench coated everything and made her stomach turn even when she breathed through her mouth.
Deciding to ignore that, in favor of better things, Emelia smiled to herself and glanced back at Kili. His mumbling was adorable and the way his brows furrowed as he analyzed every nook and cranny distracted her enough to imagine that they were somewhere happier, if even for a moment.
Apparently, the cuteness of his face was enough for her not to notice that the ground started shaking again.
It started out as nothing more than a tremor, barely perceivable amongst all the other distractions. She felt it, though, vibrating through her feet and up to her chest. Like a glass of water on the dashboard of a car in a very ill-advised dinosaur themed park. She narrowed her eyes and turned around in her spot, almost tripping over the orc at her feet, and walked further away from Kili. She paused at the edge of a still intact hallway, staring down it. The shuddering got closer as she peered in, the darkness making her uncomfortable. She gripped her spear tighter, almost out of reflex, as she leaned forward and strained to see if she could spot anything in the hallway.
"Maybe it collapsed on its own," Kili said. "What are you doing?"
"The ground is doing that thing again," Emelia said, unable to tear her gaze away. Something moved in the shadows, large and hulking as it turned towards her. Her intestines felt like they turned to warm jelly as she took three quick steps back. The creature lumbered towards her, finally stepping into the light enough for her to see what it was.
"Move!"
Kili knocked her to the ground just in time to avoid being crushed by a small troll. They skidded along the ground, the blood causing them to slide further than they normally would, until they were stopped by a collapsed stone wall. Kili immediately flipped around and notched and arrow, shooting it from his spot half on top of her. The arrow embedded in the troll's shoulder, but did nothing to slow it down as it turned towards them, lamp-like eyes dilating when it caught sight of them on the floor.
Emelia was going to be sick.
The troll snapped the arrow off and charged them, double-sided axe raised above its head.
"It looks tasty don't it?"
Emelia's entire body shook. She wasn't particularly fond of trolls, but she didn't think the mere sight of one was enough to cause her to freeze up. She had all but put the memory of William, Bert, and Tom out of her mind. Or at least, she thought she had. It seemed like ages ago, a lifetime really, that she had been plucked up out of the river and held hostage for three days. Even surrounded by dead orcs, who had probably never showered in their lives, the smell of that troll horde had been worse. Sometimes, more than she cared to admit, she still felt like she could smell it.
"Let's cook 'er."
Emelia shoved her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, trying to get the voices of the trolls out of her head. She felt Kili haul himself off her and push her closer to the wall.
"She's so tiny. She won' even be a fillin'."
"Emelia, give me your spear!"
Kili wrenched her weapon out of her hands just as she turned over. Kili held the spear in front of him, taunting the simple creature for a moment before he speared it through the neck, just between it's chest plate and long helmet. The troll seemed confused for a moment, touching the wooden staff sticking out before it swayed and collapsed on the spot. It landed on top of two of the bodies, smashing them under his weight. The sound reminded her of a tomato being trodden on, or a particularly nasty pimple being popped.
Scowling at her own disgusting thought process, Emelia sat up and pressed back against the wall. She massaged her temple with her left hand.
"The troll must have knocked down the wall to make it easier to get in," Kili said, back turned to her. He bent down over the troll and stuck out his hand, turning its head so he could look at it. "Olog-hai." He spat the name like it was poison, pushing himself away from the creature in disgust.
Emelia pulled her legs up to her chest and tried to calm her breathing. Six months she had been free of them and all it took to rip her back was the sight of one sickly looking troll, or Olog-hai as Kili called it. It wasn't even that big, only about 2 and a half times her size, and had skin the color of a rotting peach. It was nothing like the other trolls, she could see that now that she took the time to really pay attention, but the paralyzing fear it inspired deep in her chest was much the same. She had come close to dying more times than she cared to admit since then, but those three days were the only time she truly felt like she wouldn't survive.
"Em?"
"I'm sorry," She said, hasting wiping her eyes on the knee of her pants.
"I forgot." Kili stepping in front of her, blocking her view in a calculated move that caused her to look up at him. "I don't like to think about what those trolls did to you."
"I should have helped you," Emelia said, feeling the shame of her inability to act mixing with the linger fear. "I didn't…"
"Emelia, do not trouble yourself." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and lifted her off the ground, pulling her into his chest for a quick hug.
"I hate trolls," She said into his breast plate.
"I probably shouldn't tell you that there is likely to be more, then."
She pulled back. "What do you mean?"
"That was an Olog-hai."
"Yeah, I don't know what that is."
"I don't know that much about them either, to be perfectly honest. Dwalin told me Fili about them a long time ago, but I sort of thought he was making them up to make his mercenary work seem more exciting."
"Helpful," Emelia said, not meaning to be so derisive. "So now that we've established that they're real, what does one of them being here mean?"
"That you were right about the orc army."
"I hate it when that happens," Emelia said, clenching and unclenching her fists for a moment as she tried to muster her courage to go over and get her spear. "Although, I think the orc scouts were probably indication of that." Kili hummed in agreement and stepped aside, clearing her path to the Olog-hai as he went about collecting his arrows. "How long until the rest of the army gets here?"
Emelia stared down at the Olog-hai.
After another few deep breaths she wrapped both hands around the base of the spear and yanked. The skin of the Olog-hai's neck made a squelching noise a bit like a wet vacuum seal as the spear head slid out. More blood spilled, adding to the mess on the ground. She grimaced.
"Kili! Emelia!" They bother turned around at the sound of Bofur shouts, weapons held aloft instinctively. He scrambled into view, chest heaving and eyes frantic. He noticed them first before he looked down at the horror show at their feet. His lips curled in disgust as he stopped just in front of the puddle of blood, seemingly unwilling to step in it if he didn't have to. "What happened?"
"Scout pack."
"With an Olog-hai?"
"So you've heard of them too?" Emelia asked, shooting a small smirk over at Kili. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "That would have been useful information beforehand, don't you think."
"This isn't good."
"Generally speaking, yeah, something bigger than orcs is probably not a good thing."
"No, not that. Well, yes, but not specifically at this moment."
"What is it Bofur?"
"Dain came."
"What? When?" Kili asked, voice suddenly urgent.
"I was watching Erebor. The elves and men were trying to reason with Thorin, but he wasn't listening," Bofur prattled off, thoughts clearly moving too fast for his tongue to keep up. "Dain came from over the ridge to the east."
"With Dain, it will be an all-out war," Kili said.
"Yes, but that isn't the problem." Bofur sucked in another breath of air and grabbed Kili's shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle in a painful looking way. "Azog is here. The orcs are slaughtering them."
"What is Thorin doing?"
"Nothing."
Kili didn't say another word as he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, heading to the side of Dale that faced the mountain. Emelia and Bofur glanced at each other briefly before they followed him as well, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. "Kili, wait!" She called. He didn't. In fact, he ignored her completely. She huffed and ran faster, realizing that, without really meaning to, she had memorized the layout of Dale quite nicely. "You couldn't have waited to tell him?" Emelia snapped over her shoulder at Bofur. Kili took the steps up to the overlook three at a time, somehow moving faster despite the added obstacle.
"Mahal," Kili breathed out, barely loud enough for Emelia and Bofur to hear as they ran up behind him.
"Oh my god."
It was so much worse than she could have imagined.
It was surreal, in a way. The colors, despite the thick cloud cover, seemed brighter. The sounds seemed sharper, like there was nothing between her and the grunting orcs. Not even air, which felt like it had been sucked forcibly from her lungs. Even the smells were intensified. Emelia gasped as she leaned forward, eyes jumping around from figure to figure as she struggled to comprehend the horrific scene in front of her.
She bent her knees and leaned down, finding her suddenly in need of the support the wall offered.
"They're completely outnumbered."
Emelia dug her fingers into the stone.
"We cannot help them without leaving the city unprotected," Bofur said, voice barely above a whisper.
"We have to help. Or at least, get help."
"The three of us, against that? Have you lost your senses?"
"Bofur," Emelia warned, tearing her eyes away from the horrific scene for the first time.
"What? Somebody has to be realistic. Where do you think that army will go next? Do you think they'll leave? That they'll finish with the poor souls down there and decide their work is done for the day?"
"Bard deserves to know about the scout pack. It's only a matter of time before more show up," Emelia said, forcing her voice to stay steady and firm. "His kids are here. Pulling some people back from down there to keep the kids safe here is more important."
"If he was so concerned, he wouldn't have left them in the first place."
"What's you problem? Protecting them is why we came back. If that means going to get back up, then so be it."Bofur didn't flinch at the glare on her face. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest in an act of stubborn defiance and gave her the sternest look she had ever seen. That gave her pause enough to hear him out.
"Going down there is a deathtrap. You have to see that. Noble intentions won't keep us safe or help the people holed up in that cave."
"That cave isn't going to keep them safe forever. Orcs are dumb, but they aren't that dumb." Emelia mirrored his posture, stepping closer to him with a glare. "That's the reason you're here, isn't it? To help them, keep them from being killed? You care what happens to them."
"Of course I do, but I also care what happens to you and Kili. I can't let you run off and do something foolish again."
"Foolish? Warning them isn't foolish. It's our duty as living, breathing, not-assholes."
"Enough, both of you." Kili stopped Bofur before he could respond with a hard look. "I will go."
"No," Emelia said instantly, shaking her head. "Not alone." He had already stated the work of tightening his chest plate over his chain mail, making sure it was tight and well secured. "I should go," Emelia said, completely ignoring the look on Bofur's face.
"That's even worse than him going."
"You two are better fighters. When the orcs get here, you'll be able to help protect the people here."
"That's not happening."
"It doesn't make any sense for you to go."
"You're not going into that," Kili snapped, gesturing over his shoulder.
"Neither are you."
"Emelia."
"Kili."
"I'll do it," Bofur said, voice tired sounding. "Don't look at me like that."
"I don't want you to go either." Emelia grabbed his arm, holding him back like he was already walking away. "I'll go. I'm fast and nobody will notice me. I can find Bard and tell him that he needs to come back. In and out really quick."
"No."
"I have to agree with Kili, lassie."
"This is going nowhere."
"Just like you."
"Funny." Emelia scowled at Bofur and tapped her fingers on his arm. "Until we can get Bard here, you're all the people of Lake-town have. It needs to be people who can actually fight protecting them, not me. It's the most logical thing and both of you know it."
The silence that fell over them seemed to work in Emelia's favor. After a moment, Bofur sighed and looked at his feet, muttering something under his breath as he turned around and leaned against the wall. He glanced over his shoulder at the battle raging below, eyebrows knitting together. Kili immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, fingers flexing into her coat. His other hand grabbed hers as he kissed her fiercely.
"You find Bard and then find somewhere safe to hide."
"Kee."
"I need you to do that for me."She knew she couldn't. She kissed him again and stepped back, scanning his face over and over again. "Emelia, please promise me that you won't do anything reckless."
Again, she knew she couldn't, but she nodded her head anyway. "You'll be careful too. Both of you."
"You're the one running face first into an army of orcs," Bofur said, clearly not think much of the plan. "Why are you letting her do this?"
"I don't control her," Kili said, fussing over her as she prepared to go. He straightened her coat and smoothed the shoulders. "Even if I did, she would do what she wants. And she's right. I don't like it one bit, but she is, and we cannot keep debating it when there's people dying."
"I'll stay in the seam until I can find Bard. After that I'll…"
"Hide behind a rock and wait until all of this is over, for better or worse."
When she didn't respond, she thought Kili understood that she wasn't going to hide. She stepped back and lifted her spear over her shoulder. "Here," He held out his sword to her, rolling his eyes when she immediately shook her head. He grabbed her hip and pulled her back, strapping the weapon to her belt with quick, practiced movements. "If you're careful, you won't have to use this, but I'll feel better if I know you have it."
"What about you?"
"I'll find another."
"Kee," Emelia started, only to be cut off with his hand over her mouth. They shared a look and she could see more emotions in his eyes that she could even begin to fathom, but she was relieved when he pulled his hand back and smoothed her jacket once again. It came across as a nervous tick, like he couldn't help but touch her at least one more time, before he finally stepped back and sighed heavily. She let out a puff of air and nodded. "Okay. You two look out for each other."
"Stop fretting, lassie."
"Right. I'm just going to go before I chicken out."
She turned around and tried not to look back, just in case she lost her nerve entirely. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and imagine none of this was happening, to genie blink them through the conflict and onto whatever end waited for them. She wanted to skip past all of it and actually spend some quality time alone with Kili when they weren't both worried about dying. A wartime romance was cute and all, and she wouldn't have traded it for anything, but she wanted to know what it was like to just be with him. To wake up and go for a walk, or go to whatever the dwarvish version of the theater was. Emelia wanted to marry him, if that was still on the table, but she refused to allow herself to even really consider that possibility until everything settled down. It felt like they had been in limbo for months on end, waiting and waiting for some sign that their lives would be able to be something besides constant panic and stress.
There was an entire army of orcs between them and that goal, however, so she cleared her throat and pushed every other thought aside except for one.
Find Bard.
The sword felt heavy on her hip, reminding her of just how serious her quest was. She knew she would need to use it. Kili did as well, he just didn't want to say it out loud.
Emelia sprinted down the stairs and ran towards the crack in the wall, nails digging into the wooden handle of her spear. She shoved the weapon through first before she turned herself sideways and shimmied her way to the other side. She didn't know if she had just wasted away into little more than a skeleton, or if she had done it so many times she was now an expect, but it seemed much easier than all the other times. She readjusted her sword and swiped up the spear as she ran up the rocky hill.
It was basically impossible to discern anything from the battle in front of her. The elves were easy enough to spot, with their perfectly clean armor and hazardously long hair, but everyone else seemed to blur into one indistinct blob. She would need to get closer if she was going to find Bard.
She let out an audible groan and started down the hill, turning towards the left as she remembered her promise to Kili to stay in the seam for as long as possible.
Using the butt of her spear as an anchor, she wedged it into a crevice in the rock and swung herself down into the little valley with relative ease, landing in a crouched position to avoid putting too much strain on her knees.
The expanse in front of her was eerily calm compared to the chaos above it, making her feel like she was walking into a trap. She knew, without a doubt and based on her own skills of only being able to kill orcs with luck, that this was the safest place for her to be besides on the exact opposite end of the earth. Keeping that in mind, she ran until she was about halfway back to the mountain before she stopped. There was an easy to climb spot that would give her a decent vantage point, if she managed to keep herself from getting shot, so she quickly tucked her spear into the nook between her shoulder and neck and started to pick her way up the side of the rocks.
It was slow work and she could feel the spear bruising her skin, but after a few minutes she was able to heave herself over the side with little incident. She dropped her weapon onto the rocks next to her and pressed herself down as flat as she possible could before she started inch-worming her way over to the edge. The indignity of it all was mitigated by the fact that she was able to go entirely unnoticed despite the fact that her new spot put her about ten yards away from the nearest orc.
Spitting distance, really, if she was so inclined.
Emelia smiled to herself and hunkered down, eyes scanning the mass of moving bodies for any sign of Bard.
He should, theoretically speaking, stand out. He wasn't pretty like the elves, nor short and squat like the dwarves, or as foul as the orcs, although the argument could be made that his attitude as of late would indicate otherwise. She looked first for his brown hair but gave up on that rather quickly when she realized it was like trying to find blonde hair in a field of wheat.
She tried to look for his pale skin next, but found that was almost equally as useless.
After what felt like hours, she finally saw him cutting through orcs about a hundred yards from her. Barely a blip, she wasn't entirely sure it was him, but after another moment of squinting he turned towards her.
She had to cover her mouth from letting out yelp of happiness.
The elation she felt at finding her target so quickly dissipated as she watched the orcs fill the space between them. There had to be at least a hundred of them, if not more, slashing, stabbing, and slicing their way through the mix of people. Even as she watched she saw two elves, who had centuries more experience in fighting than she did, collapse to the ground. The one closest to her coughed up blood as he swayed in his spot, seemingly having trouble comprehending the large sword through his chest before the orc behind him yanked it out and hacked his head clean off.
Emelia shrank back, eyes watering.
Her job was to find Bard. It just so happened that it was a little bit harder than she had anticipated. It didn't change the fact that if she didn't tell him about the scout pack, it wouldn't just be that elf whose blood soaked the earth. It would be Tilda's, and Sigrid's, and Hiron and Galon's, and Bain's. It would be everyone she had come to care about and rely on. It was her job, just like it had been with Eddy and the two kids taken by the trolls, to protect them.
She inched even closer until her head hung out over the lip of the rock, eyes scanning the ground beneath her. If she kept to the right she would have a clear path, but she would have to navigate past one of the Olog-hai. If she went to the left she would have to fight through, or avoid, more orcs and run the risk of getting cut down before she even made it to Bard.
It wasn't much of competition.
"It's just a baby troll, Emelia," She whispered to herself, sitting up so she could lower herself down off her perch. "A stupid baby troll with a stupid face wearing stupid armor. You can do this." Her feet swung for a moment before she landed on the ground and turned around, holding her spear aloft. "You have to do this."
She ran forward and turned right, slipping past the first orc successfully. He had his back turned to her as he bared down on a particularly hairy dwarf. He raised his sword and swung it downward, aiming directly for the dwarf's weak point under his arm. Sensing an opportunity, she jabbed her spear right into the orc's lower back and twisted, grimacing to herself as she felt the resistance of muscle and bone. The orc squealed and collapsed forward, revealing her to the dwarf.
"Thanks, Lassie."
She smiled awkwardly, unsure of whether or not she should be getting thanked for killing something, before she yanked her spear out of the orcs back and kept running.
The dwarf called out to her but she ignored him. Bard was her only goal at the moment and she couldn't get distracted while she had him in her sights. Emelia jumped over a dead body before she ducked under a swinging arm. It passed close enough to move the hair on her head, spurring her to move faster. For a moment she felt like she was running down a never ending hallway, doomed to watch her target forever without really reaching him.
Emelia pitched forward suddenly, slamming face first into her spear. Her lip split painfully on the wood on her way down. She glared at her own weapon, spitting out a bit of blood and thick spit as she turned over in the dirt to find what had tripped her.
She nearly screamed.
An orc, or what used to be an orc, pawed at her, apparently oblivious to the fact that it was missing the lower part of both its legs. She immediately kicked its face, ignoring the sound of her boot crunching on its nose as she scrambled backwards. She kept moving until she felt something solid block her path. She peered up slowly.
She swore to herself and rolled sideways, tucking her spear against her chest until she was clear of the other orc before she got to her feet.
It snarled at her, holding up its two short swords as it charged forward.
She threw her spear and cursed once again when it only hit the orc in the shoulder. She grabbed the sword at her waist next, fully prepared to use it like she had seen the rest of the dwarves doing. The sword tip fell to the ground with an anticlimactic thud. "Dammit, Kee." She grabbed it with her other hand and heaved, feeling every muscle in her back and arms straining under the weight of the weapon as she struggled to lift it even a few inches off the ground.
Emelia stepped back a few feet and swiveled her hips, bending her knees slightly to help her lift. She managed to get it even with her stomach by the time the orc reached her. The proximity forced her back, making her lose her progress and any reasonable means of defending herself.
Seeing no other option, she dropped the sword and dived to her left, narrowly avoiding being stabbed in the side as she tucked into a little ball. Her hands dug into the dirt as she frantically crawled away. The earth shifted beneath her knees and hands, making her progress slower than it would have been if the ground was hard.
"Wait a minute."
She grabbed a handful and turned around, flinging it at the orcs eyes.
To her intense satisfaction, and shock, it actually worked. The orc stumbled backwards from the pain, clawing at its eyes and wailing. Grabbing the nearest sharp object she could find, a throwing axe in this case, Emelia charged towards her disoriented opponent and hacked its chest until the handheld axe wedged itself into the orc's breast bone. She kicked the it backwards and kept her grip on the axe, mouth slightly agape as the orc crumpled at her feet.
"I can't believe that worked," She breathed, looking down at the bloody axe in her hand. "Oh that was so violent."
"Emelia?"
"Bard." Emelia wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly as soon as he stepped into view, the elation at reaching him enough to make her forget that he was on her eternal shitlist. "You won't believe how happy I am to see you."
"Why are you here?"
"The city," She said, voice breathless. "A scout pack."
"Emelia, tell me." Bard pushed her back and looked down at her.
"There was a scout pack with an Olog-hai. We think the orcs are going to go for the ci…"Bard pushed past her and stabbed an orc in the chest. "…ty. Wow, that never gets any more normal."
"My children?"
"I wouldn't normally take the opportunity to turn this into an 'I told you so' moment, but you've just set it up so perfectly." Emelia took the lull in orcs as an opportunity to look for a new spear. She spied one to her left, discarded and left next to the body of a Lake-town citizen, unused and still free of blood stains. She rushed forward and grabbed it. "You're kids are fine. For now."
"What did you do?"
"What makes you think I did anything?"
The Lake-town woman stared up at the sky blankly, warm brown eyes now cold and distant. One side of her face was marred by a deep slash that separated the skin of her cheek from the rest of her face. Emelia dropped the spear and leaned forward, hands hovering over the woman's face for a moment before she delicately placed two fingers on her eyelids. She was still warm. Her fingers shook as she closed the woman's eyes.
"Robbyn."
"What?"
"Her name was Robbyn. Her mother had a fondness for birds."
Emelia sat back. "We moved them to the caves. Kili and Bofur are watching them."
"How many were in the pack?"
"Ten."
"And you came to warn me at the risk of your own life?" She looked back at him, offended by the tone of his voice. "You do not owe us any allegiance."
"I owe an allegiance to myself and my commitment to not being a shitty person. My parents raised me better than that." Emelia used the spear to stand up fully, rounding on Bard with a glare on her face. "All of this and you still think this is about loyaty? What will it take for you to realize that all I want is for people to stop dying all around me? Your children and your people are my responsibility just as much as Thorin and those dwarves and Thranduil and his elves. Not because any of you have been particularly understanding of me, but because it's the decent thing to do."
A few more of the people from Lake-town had started to gather around them, forming a perimeter from the orcs as they pushed in closer. "Our families?"
"What happened?"
"Bard?"
"Take them back to the city," Emelia said, feeling like the weight on her shoulders had increased. "That's where you need to be."
"What you'v…"
"You can thank me later. And grovel. I hope there's lots of groveling from all you asshats." At the thought, she glanced at the mountain, finding that the first asshat that came to mind was none other than Thorin. Instead of seeing a mountain shut off to the rest of the world, like she expected, she saw a gaping hole. "How long has that been there?"
"Thorin joining the battle not long ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you did not ask."
Emelia glowered at him. "You're a little shit, Bard, I hope you know that."
Bard, surprising everyone from Emelia to the orcs around them, it seemed, leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You have saved our children's lives. We will not forget this."
"Well, the longer you stand here making things awkward, the less likely it is that all my hard work will have paid off."
Bard nodded and smiled at her, genuinely, for what felt like the first time in the entirely of their strained relationship. He turned to the others around him, seeming to realize that they were being watched by about fifteen people. He cleared his throat and stood slightly taller, demeanor switching to that of a leader almost before her eyes. If she wasn't so annoyed at the very thought of the holy trinity from hell that was Thorin, Thranduil, and Bard she might have admired him more in that moment. As things stood, however, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. She had the hope that, once everything was said and done, she might find a way to appreciate Bard for who he was and what he did for his people, but at the moment she couldn't help but place some of the blame for the current actual disaster all around them squarely on his shoulders. As far as she could tell, and she could admit some of her thought process was a little clouded by residual anger, if they had listened to Gandalf and actually devoted some of the time to preparing rather than measuring dicks for what felt like a week straight, they might have actually been able to come up with a plan.
That was neither here nor there, at this point, however.
"Go. I'm going to see if I can find Fili."
"You should not be here."
"That'll be written on my tombstone, probably."
"I can see that I will not be able to convince you to find refuge somewhere."
"Definitely not. I'll be safe enough if I can find Fili."
"Then I hope we part ways as friends."
"Geez, I'm not dying Bard. Calm down the dramatics." Emelia tucked her axe into her waistband. "If you happen to see Kili, tell him I'm alive."
Bard nodded and gave her one more meaningful look before he started running towards the city walls. "To the city!"
The people of Lake-town let out war yells that would be cringe inducing in any other situation. Emelia couldn't help but feel uplifted for a moment as she watched them run away, however. Their shouts emboldened her and made her forget that once they left she would be alone until she found Fili, if she could find Fili. The brief battlefield euphoria that filled her chest disappeared almost immediately once they were out of sight. "Well that was nice while it lasted," She muttered.
Thinking it would probably be easiest to find Fili if she headed towards Erebor, Emelia turned towards the mountain and started mentally charting her path. The constantly moving bodies made it practically impossible, however. The best she could do is keep moving and hope for the best.
She had only made it about ten feet when she felt the ground vibrate once again. By that point she knew what that meant. She closed her eyes and shook her head, hating every possible thing about her situation. Finding the courage only after she muttered a thousand self-assurances to herself, she glanced over her shoulder.
"Oh, I forgot about you." Emelia turned on her heels and sprinted away from the Olog-hai. "This is my nightmare."
It advanced on her, outstripping her in three steps. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the massive sledgehammer swinging towards the back of her head. She dive forward in a fashion that would probably make an Olympic swimmer proud, and covered her head with her hands, waiting for the final blow.
She supposed it was appropriate. Trolls had been the first things she was introduced to in Middle Earth, it only made sense that one of them would be the last thing she saw.
Emelia squeezed her eyes shut and tried to picture something besides the memory of her time with the first set of trolls. Literally anything else would be preferable.
After an eternity of not being crushed, Emelia cracked open one eye.
"Is that how we deal with trolls now? Ass up?"
"Fili?" Emelia rolled over and launched herself into standing position just as the troll that had been pursuing her slammed into the ground behind her, an axe sticking out of the back of its head. "Talk about a deus ex machina. Or a deus axe machina, if you catch my drift." Fili stared at it blankly as she chortled to herself. "Oh come on, that's funny."
"Emmy, good to see you." Fili smirked at her despite not understanding her joke and bent down to grab the axe.
"God I hate trolls," She said, purposefully turning away from the Olog-hai so she wouldn't have to look at it.
"Are they technically trolls?" Ori asked, popping up from the other side. "I always thought they were a different breed."
"They look and smell just as foul."
"If it quacks like a duck it's probably a duck."
"Very astute."
"Balin," Emelia greeted, waving at the older dwarf with a genuine smile on her face. "How did you guys find me? I was just coming to look for you."
"You're flailing draws quite a bit of attention."
Emelia rolled her eyes and turned around to look at Thorin. She folded her arms across her chest petulantly and watched as he and Dwalin stepped around the dead body. "What are you doing here? Got tired of counting your gold and decided you'd come out of your cave, you little wall cricket?"
"You are more spirited than I expected."
"We're all probably going to die anyway. Some people drink. I stop using my filter."
"You have been filtering yourself this entire time?"
Emelia shrugged her shoulders. "Kili and Bofur are fine by the way."
"Where are they?"
"In the city."
"What in the name of Mahal are you doing out here alone?" Ori asked.
"Just relaxing. Enjoying the view, contemplating death, making peace with my god. The usual."
"Why didn't they come with you?"
"They're guarding the caves where we stashed all the women, children, and elderly."
"You found the caves." It wasn't a question. Emelia turned back to Thorin. The time apart had done nothing to temper her anger towards him, but she thought it was counterproductive to let that influence their reactions any further. She took a deep calming breath and nodded.
"You might want to look into that when this all said and done. It's a PR nightmare, if you ask me."
"At least they are safe. That is more than we can say," Balin said, smoothing over the growing tension expertly. "That was your idea?"
Balin looked at her like a proud father might look at his son after he scored the game-winning touchdown. She blushed and looked at her feet, shifting uncomfortably. If it had been anyone else, she would have proudly taken credit. With Balin it felt like bragging for the sake of praise, something he would never do, so she tried to sound as casual as possible about. "I might have had something to do with it. It was more of a group effort. I couldn't have done it without Bofur and Kili."
"Fili, Ori, I want you to go join Kili and Bofur," Thorin said, looking over at Dale with frown on his face. "The battle is contained to the valley for now, but I feel it will soon spread."
"Emelia should come with me," Fili interjected.
"She has no business being out or in that city. I will keep an eye on her and out of harm's way," Balin said before anyone else could offer up another option. "No orc has ever stepped foot in the halls of Erebor, and I would very much like to keep it that way. We will guard the entrance." Emelia didn't think it was the right time to point out that she wasn't technically allowed inside Erebor at the moment, so she simply bit her lip and agreed through her lack of argument.
"I don…"
"Dwalin and I will find Dain." Thorin clapped Dwalin on the shoulder, turning to Emelia as he starting stepping back. "Emelia, we need to speak later." He nodded to Dwalin and disappeared into the fray before she could say anything to him. Dwalin looked at Balin for a brief moment before he followed after him, gleefully hacking through an orc that ventured too close to their small group.
"Fili, you heard your Uncle. Go. I fear your brother will need you before long."
"Stay safe," Emelia said, pulling Fili into a quick hug. "You as well, Ori."
And just as quickly as Thorin and Dwalin left, they were gone as well, leaving Emelia standing alone with Balin. She sighed, not at all liking the new feeling that settled deep in her gut. Balin squeezed her shoulder, pulling her gaze back to him. "Come. Erebor will provide us with more cover."
"I have this horrible feeling that I'm not going to see them again."
"Such feelings are rarely correct or about the right person."
"That is both comforting and upsetting all at once."
"Get your spear. You will need it."
Emelia bent down and grabbed her weapon, following after Balin as he cut a path through the orcs towards the mountain. The gaping hole, which she still didn't know how it got there, stood open and vulnerable. It was basically a neon sigh, practically begging the orcs to come and stink it up.
Truthfully, it was mesmerizing to watch Balin fight. He was old, older than she cared to guess, but still moved like a dwarf half his age. He fought with such precise movements she didn't know how he kept it straight. If she had tried to use the maneuvers he did, she probably would have long ago chopped off a limb or two. She did benefit from it, however, so she kept back and did her part to kill the orcs that came upon them from behind.
"Khozd-shrakhun!"
They both turned, neither of them having the time to do anything other than watch as the orc threw his serrated spear at them. Emelia turned her head sideways a fraction of an inch, barely missing getting hit directly in the face before it made contact. It sliced through her ear, cutting it in half and sending a spray of blood over the side of her face and down her neck. She crumpled sideways, clutching her hand to the wound as she tried to assess the damage. She couldn't feel much except for an intense sting whenever her palm or fingers brushed against the torn flesh. She supposed it had been too much to expect to make it out unscathed, but she didn't see why her ear had to pay the price. She had always liked her ears, thought them nice and proportional and not at all elephanty. Apparently, they were, if they were large enough to stick out and take a wayward spear. It could have been worse, however, so she dropped her hand and stood up, turning around in her spot to see the orc who had thrown the spear.
It was a small thing, as far orcs went, hunched and sniveling. Its skin was a grey color that caused him to blend in with the background, but she saw him well enough. The glowing eyes were unmistakable. She wiped her hand on her pants and readjusted her own spear, holding it aloft as the orc moved closer to them. It looked behind her at something on the ground and smirked, smiling at her with a set of blood and shit stained teeth.
The orc snarled and sprinted towards them, holding aloft a rusty sword above its head. Emelia waited, watching for the right time before she lined up her spear and threw it. It sailed across the small gap, seeming to float in midair for a moment, before it slammed into the orcs chest, stopping it in its tracks. The orc crumpled to the ground in a heap, spear sticking up like toothpick in a cocktail sausage. She cocked her head to the side and observed its final twitches, waiting until she was sure it was dead before she turned back to Balin, a proud smile on her face.
Really, that shot had been a thing of beauty.
"Did you see that?"
She instantly froze when she saw him, panic washing over her at the sight of the massive wound in his stomach and the bloody spear lying next to his feet. He swayed in his spot, face pale and drawn as he seemed to realize what was causing his pain. He looked down at his stomach for a moment before he collapsed backwards, crying out when he hit the ground.
Emelia sprinted over to him and skidded to a step next to him. She grabbed his shoulders and propped him up, hands touching his face frantically.
"Balin, look at me," She said, the shaking in her hands now almost unbearable. She accidentally smeared a bit of her own blood on her chin, causing her to pull back and bite her lip.
At first glance, he hardly looked hurt at all. His thick coat concealed the true extent of his injury and the red color made the blood look like a water spot on his stomach more than anything else. But she could smell it. She wasn't very knowledgeable in the art of identifying wounds, something that she was thankful for, but even she could tell that his stomach had been perforated. The acrid stink of it was unmistakable, the sharpness almost too much to bear. Still, she didn't cover her nose. She chose instead to smile at him as best she could. Stomach injuries were deadly even in modern times. Field dressing was not a skill she possessed. Even if she did, she didn't have any medical supplies with her. She refused to let that thought show on her face, or give up without doing everything she could so she mentally slapped herself and ran through a game plan.
"I need to open your coat," She said, hands fumbling with his belt. They shook so violently she could hardly move, forcing her to take a moment to try and calm her nerves. "It's going to hurt." Balin nodded and groaned, teeth gritted and limbs shaking, from the cold or the pain, she did not know. "Okay, let's do this."
After another moment of struggling, she finally managed to unbuckle his belt and pull it to the side. Balin cried out, hands moving to his stomach as the movement jostled his injury. Emelia looked up at his face and tried to smile again, thinking that it might help him to know that she wasn't panicked.
Which she was.
In fact, she might never have felt so panicked in her entire life.
She unbuttoned his coat next and pulled it open, grimacing in anticipation of what she might find. She untucked his undershirt from his pants and lifted it up, glancing up at his face once more before she turned her attention on his stomach in full.
She had expected something bad, but it was so much worse in reality. The spear had certainly achieved its intended purpose. That much was clear to her just from the sheer amount of blood spilling out and the smell that instantly wafted up. She could tell even without seeing the injury itself. She let out an involuntary sob and shook her head, dropping her chin to her chest as she took another half moment to collect herself. The smell was so much worse out in the open, making it hard for her to breathe. Clearing her throat she squeezed her hands together, running through all the things she needed to do to keep Balin from dying.
The odds seemed almost impossible, but she was certain she could do it.
She had to. There was no other option.
"Tell me what to do," She said, staring at the injury in full. The gaping gash was longer than her forearm and deeper than the width of three of her fingers. "We can do this. We can do this." She looked around, repeating the mantra to herself over and over again as she tried to find anything that could help her.
"Eme…" He trailed off, coughing up a speckle of blood. "Emelia, stop."
She ignored him, pulling off her coat in a disjointed way that revealed her internal stress level. "Do you have a knife?" She asked, holding her coat out in front of her to inspect it for the right place to cut. She thought she could get a fair amount of strips from it, if she was judicious and smart, neither of which could be guaranteed at the moment. When he didn't respond she started ripping it with her own hands instead, fingers rubbing raw from the force required. She managed to only rip it hallway down before he touched her arm, stopping her altogether.
"Emel…"
"I think we can staunch the blood flow enough for me to go get someone."
"Emelia, please."
She pressed the first strip of fabric to his stomach, wincing in turn with Balin at the pain it must have caused him. "No," She pleaded, voice shaking and hoarse. "Don't make me do this. Let me help you."
"You can't."
"I can. Somehow."
"It…" He coughed up more blood. "It is done."
"No its not." She pressed his coat over the wound with one hand and began to look for something to tie down the makeshift bandage with. It would need pressure and lots of it if it was going to keep him from bleeding out.
"Look at me."
"Maybe if I get some water…"She trailed off, losing her voice and her nerve in one fell swoop.
"Emelia."
Her face was red and streaming with snot and tears by the time she finally found the courage to look him in the eye. She could see it. She could see him fading out, like all the color was draining from him. She wanted to reach out and grab it, to force it back into his body. His hand lifted up and he touched her leg, squeezing so lightly she almost didn't feel it. She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling it to her chest as she started sobbing, openly and without reservation. It wasn't happening. Maybe if she told herself enough times, it would become the truth. Emelia closed her eyes and cradled his hand, pressing her face against it as her entire body shook.
"It's beautiful," He said.
"What is?"
"The mountain."
He tilted his head up and stared at it, pupils focusing ever so slightly before they dilated completely. He sat back as his entire body went limp, the arm in her hand collapsing completely against her chest as he let out one more strangled breath and moved no more.
I struggled with decision for actual months. I did not decide to kill Balin lightly or without realizing the consequences such a decision would have on the Lord of the Rings. At the end of the day I decided that it is not fair or right to my readers to give you an OC who is as entrenched and vital as Emelia and not have her change the story in a meaningful way.
Her presence was always going to lead to something major changing. Balin was the first dwarf who treated her with respect and kindness, so it was not easy for me to kill him, but it was necessary. I hope I did his character justice and I hope that all of you know that it was not and will not be a tool for angst just for the sake of angst. His death will resonate and change the course of the Lord of the Rings in a very major way.
I truly hope I have not upset you too much, but I feel it would be unfair, and quite frankly poor story telling, to hint at a loaded gun this entire time and not pull the trigger.
As always, thank you for the support. I am happy to discuss this decision more in depth, if any of you are interested.
Please don't hate me.
