I'd like to dedicate this chapter to anear-athansy for the lovely pieces of fan-art she has been sending me, as well as the many people on Tumblr who sent me encouraging messages to get me through my busy few weeks and well wishes for my course applications – you all know who you are :) x
"When you play the game of thrones you win or you die."
George R R Martin, A Game of Thrones
The Ironfist army – five hundred strong at least – was gathered on the plains before the gates of Erebor. Dain was at their head, approaching the gate atop of an armoured boar, flanked by another mounted Dwarf that Thorin recognised as his son, Thorin Stonehelm, who had been named after him. "A fine wall you've built here, cousin," Dain called up to him from below, drawing his boar to a halt. He was heavily armoured, his braided and wild red hair and beard spilling out from beneath a massive helm. "May we pass?"
Thorin gestured for the ladder to be lowered and both Dain and Thorin Stonehelm dismounted their boars and climbed the ramparts. Dain greeted him with a quick, tight hug, whereas his son simply nodded at him.
The lad was several years older than Fili, stocky and with a full beard, though he had a grim, silent and watchful temperament. Once there had been animosity between their two tribes, lingering tension from the Ironfist uprisings against the Durin's, but Dain's mother, Nain, had married the head of the Ironfist tribe, making her son of the royal line of Durin on one side and the Ironfist leader on the other. Dain had named his own son after him, and after their ancestor, of course, and Thorin had seen it as a renewal of good relations.
"I see Elven-spawn and men in the old city, are they the enemies you warned of?" Dain asked by way of greeting, hiking his thumb in the direction of Dale in his usual direct and abrasive manner.
"No they are allies in this battle," Thorin told him, knowing that his cousin would not take to this particular alliance, knowing that scant days ago he would have agreed with him wholeheartedly.
He was not disappointed; Dain drew himself up to his full height, several inches shorter than Thorin due to his Long-beard heritage, and scowled deeply. "You mean to tell me that you intend to draw swords with that thrice cursed woodland sprite who calls himself a king?" he demanded, his gruff tone ringing with incredulity.
"I have decided to lay old animosities to rest," he explained, taking care to keep his tone mild.
Dain's brow was furrowed into heavy lines, his expression inscrutable. "And what of the Arkenstone?" he asked abruptly, his eyes keen and sharp beneath his massive helm. "Have you summoned the others?"
Thorin hesitated: the Arkenstone was the foundation of the kingship of Erebor, the clans had sworn their allegiance to the one who wielded it, not to the king himself.
Thorin had asked Kili to return it to Elizabeth the night before, despite her bestowing it upon him – he had hurt her, both verbally and physically, and he had been utterly selfish in his decision to barricade himself in the mountain and ignore the plight of the people of Lake Town - after his actions, he had not felt worthy of the stone.
"I do not have it," he admitted, aware that Dain would be well within his rights to turn his army around and march home, that he was not bound by any oath to fight for him. There was a brief silence in which they simply stared at each other, their eyes locked, and then Dain simply nodded once.
The tension broke and Thorin clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come, let me introduce you to my company," he said, grateful for his support. "Dwalin, Oin and Gloin you know," he introduced, all of whom had met Dain before, with Balin away showing Bard and Thranduil the battlements. "My nephews and heirs, Fili and Kili." Dain's eyes flicked over the lads, then he slowly inclined his head respectfully and Thorin continued with introductions. "Master Bilbo Baggins, our burglar, and …" he paused, standing beside Elizabeth. "Elizabeth Darrow," he said simply, and then paused, uncertain of the word he could use to describe their relationship. "Our advisor," he finished, resting one hand lightly on her shoulder.
Dain's thick brows had vanished beneath his helm. "This woman is a member of your company?" he said, a queer, disapproving note in his voice, his sharp eyes quickly taking her measure.
"I am," she replied, holding his gaze steadily – her tone was pleasant, but there was an unmistakable challenge in her bearing, recognising his disapproval and bristling at it. Thorin kept his hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture of his support.
"... Well then," Dain said after a beat of silence, turning his pale eyes back to Thorin. "It appears that we have much to discuss."
Lizzy didn't like Dain.
She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but something about his watchful, cunning eyes caused her hackles to rise. His disapproval of her presence was obvious, but somehow it was more than that as well – perhaps it was the way his gaze kept flicking over to Fili and Kili, or the dismissive and warlike way he had spoken against the Elves and the people of Dale – whatever it was, it had her scowling faintly at him throughout their whole conversation.
Her estimation of him was not improved when Bard, Thranduil and Gandalf joined them in the entryway, though it had to be said that Thranduil had been the one to make the first verbal jab. "Ah, I see that the rabble has arrived," the Elven-king said coolly as he glided into the entryway, his long cloak sweeping across the dusty floor in his wake.
Dain had immediately squared off against him, bristling like a scalded cat with his hands tight on the handle of his heavy looking war-hammer. "Call my people that again and you'll feel the brunt of my hammer, you forest fairy," he growled, quick to anger and glaring undauntedly up at him.
Thorin immediately stepped between them. "We are grateful for all allies in this battle," he reminded them sternly, then turned to Thranduil. "Were the battlements to your satisfaction?" he asked – his tone was polite, though somewhat strained. Lizzy knew that cordiality would not come easily to him when it came to the Elven-king, even after an alliance had been agreed upon.
Thranduil turned his cool gaze from Dain to Thorin, seemingly utterly unimpressed with the Dwarves threat. "Though damaged, they are as sound as I remember them to be," he allowed, his tone melodious. "I am inclined to agree with your suggestion for a battle plan."
"I'll not fight alongside Elvish filth," Dain said caustically, his face set into carved lines of anger.
"You will not be doing so," Thorin explained, and then went on to briefly outline the plan that had been discussed in the council chamber. "Thranduil's people are manning the walls as archers for both strongholds, with his swordsmen on the ground defending Dale alongside the men of Lake Town. We will defend the mountain, protected by archers from above."
Dain's mouth twitched, but he did not reply – and he had not taken his narrowed gaze from Thranduil or lowered his hammer. The tension was palpable.
Bard cleared his throat, calling attention to him. "With your permission, we will send for strong horses for the wagons and start on the walls of Dale," he said to Thorin, his tone respectful and mild compared to the angry voices of a moment ago. He paused, and then continued. "As for the other matter, of sheltering the women and children in the mountain. I have given it some thought and decided to accept your offer."
Dain snorted, a harsh and utterly disgusted noise. "And alliance is one thing, but you're taking in strays now as well?" he asked bitingly.
"Dain, enough," Thorin said brusquely, though Lizzy noticed that his tone was light – he was clearly used to this kind of behaviour in his cousin and was willing to brush it aside. "We will have the gates open and ready for your return with the horses," he told the former-Bargeman, nodding towards where the Brothers Ur had been working on a new gate for Erebor.
Lizzy followed Bard and Thranduil towards the ladder, pleased that an alliance and been struck and preparations were under-way, but also on edge with the new addition to their group despite the assistance they would be in the battle.
"Why weren't you going to shelter the women and children in the mountain?" she asked Bard curiously, not understanding why he had hesitated when Thorin had first made him the offer.
"I was under the impression that all entrances and exits to the mountain had been blocked," the unofficial King of Dale explained, lingering at the foot of the ladder to speak to her. "Should the mountain fall and Dale prevail, they would be trapped, helpless," he told her. "While inspecting the battlements we were informed of the entrance that your company used to enter the mountain; knowing that there was a way for them to potentially get to safety in the event that the worst should happen swayed me."
Lizzy nodded her understanding and said farewell, furtively hoping that the army of Dwarves outside the gates would not trouble them as they returned to Dale.
Preparations did not halt because of Dain's arrival, if anything everything was even busier. The wall blocking the old gate had been reconstructed, with the thick and heavy door that the Brothers Ur had been working on all night fitted into place, and people were running to and from the mountain and Dale.
Many of Dain's people had been put to work fortifying the walls of Dale, much to their grumbling annoyance, but their skill ensured that the task was done quickly. By mid-afternoon there was a steady trickle of women and children entering the mountain and being guided to one of the main halls. They were not expecting the orcs to arrive until tomorrow, but they knew that once they did so all communication and travel between Dale and the mountain would be cut off, hence the necessity for them to spend the night before the battle in the mountain.
Following the refugees from Dale was the contingent of Elven-archers who were to man the battlements of Erebor. It had been decided that Legolas would command them, whereas Thranduil would be leading the forces on the ground defending Dale. They marched silently through the newly constructed gate in complete unison, ignoring the stares and mutters of the Ironfist Dwarves as the sunlight glinted off their polished armour.
"Kili," Thorin called, coming over to where his nephew was standing talking to Lizzy and watching the Elves pass in regimented lines. "Lead them up to the battlements, you will be fighting on the walls with the Elves."
He blinked in abject surprise, clearly not having been expecting this order. "What?" he questioned, a note of incredulity in his voice. "No, I'm going to be down here with you and Fili, I'm going to fight by your side," he said firmly.
"Kili," Thorin said, resting his hand familiarly on his shoulder. "This is not a punishment, I am not sending you from my side. You are the best archer that we have and the Elves do not know these halls - I am asking you to take the responsibility of commanding our allies," he explained, glancing briefly at Lizzy for her approval and looking satisfied when she cast a small, pleased smile his way.
Kili hesitated, looking torn, and Lizzy could see his indecision: he was being placed in a position of authority, as befitting for one of Thorin's heirs, but he would be separated from his people, from his brother. He glanced over to where Tauriel was standing among the Elves with her bow, her back rigid and straight, and exhaled a deep breath; he gave Thorin a small nod of understanding, his expression serious, then he departed to show the Elves up to the battlements.
"What about me?" Lizzy asked, since no one had told her what she would be doing during the battle yet.
Thorin was watching as Bard led the refugees of Lake Town into the mountain with a faint frown; the former-Bargeman had been riding to and from the mountain several times since Dain's arrival. "You will be in here with the women and children of Dale."
"Absolutely not," she retorted instantly, affronted that he would even suggest such a thing.
He turned to look at her, his mouth set into serious lines that brooked no argument. "Elizabeth," he said simply. "Your shoulder is still injured, you cannot fight."
"My left shoulder, I hold a sword with my right hand," she retorted, glaring at him and failing to see why her injury should stop her from fighting.
"That you do, and your skills are good," he allowed, his voice low and deep, pitched quietly since Bard was approaching them. "You are competent in a fight, but a battle is a different thing altogether to the fights we have been in before," he told her. "You have never fought in armour or a with a shield and both require training."
She shook her head, unable to believe that he didn't understand why she had to be there. "Thorin, the whole reason I am here is to change the outcome of this battle," she told him, gazing at him with wide eyes. "How can you possibly ask me to sit it out?"
"I am already fearful of losing Fili and Kili in this battle," he said, his words iron and his arms folded across his barrel-like chest. "If I am to fight my best I cannot be worrying about you too."
She was about to reply, but was cut off by Bard. "I am inclined to agree with him," the former-Bargeman said, having heard the end of their conversation as he approached, his daughters by his side. "It is too great a danger, my lady."
"I don't care about danger, I want to fight," she said to them, her anger at their doubts causing her to sound braver than she felt. They didn't understand, she had to be out there with them, she couldn't just sit on the sidelines.
Bard paused, apparently choosing his words with care while his daughters hung back beside him. "I saw your bravery when Smaug attacked the town, no one here doubts your courage," he told her simply. "But Thorin is right, you are injured and you would be seen as easy prey," he said, and Lizzy heard the implication in his voice, that she would be more of a hindrance than a help.
She wouldn't be able to convince them, not when they closed ranks on her like this. If she wanted to fight then she would have to find another way.
Thorin's attention was called away by Dain and Bard continued to chivvy his people into the safety of the mountain – an altercation briefly bubbled up when it became apparent that the Master and Alfrid thought they should be joining the women and children in the safety of Erebor, but they were quickly turned around and escorted back to Dale.
Lizzy saw Gandalf sitting to one side on a chunk of rubble, puffing away on his pipe as he watched the proceedings, and went to join him. "Thorin says I can't fight tomorrow," she said, and then instantly regretted how petulant her words had sounded – nevertheless, she was hoping that the Wizard would help her since her whole purpose here was to change the outcome of this battle.
Gandalf exhaled a plume of smoke and said nothing.
"You agree with him?" Lizzy asked, mildly aghast as she read the implication of his silence. She threw her hands up in the air in frustration and sat down. "The whole reason you bought me here was to change things," she reminded him unnecessarily.
"And you have done beautifully," the Wizard said. "You have set the board, the pieces are in position and all that remains is one more roll of the dice, then we shall discover whether or not our efforts have been for naught."
She shook her head slightly. "You make it sound so … insignificant," she said, knowing that he was speaking of Thorin, Fili and Kili's possible deaths. There was a long silence as Lizzy fiddled with the hilt of her sword, watching the bustle of people, of Elves, Dwarves and men mingling together all around them.
"I need to know something," she blurted out, not thinking of her words beforehand. "... If I were to die in the battle, what would happen?" she asked, turning to look curiously at him. "You know, back in my world."
"You would be dead, Elizabeth," he said simply, one gnarled hand curled around the bowl of his pipe.
"... Just like that?" she asked, her voice faint at the finality in his words.
Gandalf looked down at her, his expression both gentle and serious. "Death is something that transcends all worlds, my dear."
She licked her dry lips, choosing her next words with care. "And … hypothetically, what would happen if I did stay here?" she wanted to know, trying to keep her tone light. "Back in my world, I mean."
The Wizard exhaled a stream of smoke through his nose. "We have already discussed this, Elizabeth," he reminded her with a hint of sternness, putting the stem of his pipe between his lips once again.
"Hypothetically," she pressed, needing to know.
He sighed and looked at her sadly. "You would simply be ... gone."
"Gone?" she repeated, feeling her heart clench in her chest at the idea.
"You have moved between worlds," Gandalf explained quietly, his voice low and rasping. "If you are not returned to the precise time and place where you left then life in that world would go on, without you in it."
"So I would just be ... missing?" she asked, feeling horrified at the idea and the implications of what it would mean to her friends and family. "My family and friends, they would never know what had happened to me?"
"Indeed," Gandalf said heavily. He then rested one hand gently on her uninjured shoulder. "But it does not do to dwell on that which will not be," he told her in a slightly pointed voice, his eyes wise and kind, and then he stood up. "Now, I suggest that we make ourselves useful, my dear."
Darkness had long since fallen and the torches had been lit. The mountain was a hive of activity, yet everyone was quiet and anxious and there was a peculiar, tense charge in the air, no doubt nerves of what tomorrow would bring. Lizzy had grudgingly spent the afternoon seeing to the comfort of the people of Dale at Gandalf's advice, running around trying to find as much bedding and salvageable wood for fires as she could in the empty buildings of Erebor. Now, hours later, the people of Dale had said goodbye to their menfolk, the evening meal had been cooked and they were settling down to rest in silent anticipation.
"Doesn't it bother you?" Lizzy whispered to Sigrid, whom she had started to form something of a friendship with over the afternoon. "Not being able to fight with them?"
The younger girl was sitting with little Bill, Captain Jordan's orphaned son, on her lap. She frowned at Lizzy's words. "I wish I could be in Dale with my Da and brother and Tom, but who would look after the children?" she asked as Bill yawned in her arms. "Who would fight for them should the worst happen?"
Lizzy pursed her lips and another woman, who had introduced herself as Hilda, spoke up. "Do not feel that it is cowardly to remain in safety," she told her bluntly, stitching a loose hem of a blanket with skilled, rough fingers. "Many of the men are trained in some form of battle, while we are not. But should the worst happen ..." she tapped a hand on the long bread knife that was hanging from her belt. "We will be ready to stand by our men, in life and in death."
Lizzy sighed and nodded – she understood Thorin's reasoning, she was injured and being in a battle was probably like trying to run a marathon when you had only just mastered walking, but she felt so helpless at the idea of sitting on the sides.
Gandalf's words had been preying on her mind her all afternoon: she had never known what would happen if she died in Middle Earth, wondering if she would somehow wake up back in her world, like a game that reset itself to the last saved point, but the knowledge that death was still death, and that if she decided to follow her heart and just stay here then her family would never know what happened to her, was a heavy burden to bear the night before the battle that would decide all of their fates.
She took a deep breath, feeling sick to her stomach with anticipation and wanting nothing more than to just go and find Thorin, to be with him. "Do you have everything that you need down here?" she asked, making to stand up and leave.
Hilda patted the blanket beside her. "Yes, you've done marvellously for us," she said in a friendly voice. "Warmer and dryer than Dale."
Lizzy nodded, smiling her goodbye. "I'll see you in the morning then," she said to the women, noticing that Tilda was already fast asleep in her roll of blankets beside her sister. They said goodnight in turn and she left the hall.
The Ironfist Dwarves were everywhere as Lizzy made her way towards the Durin quarters she had slept in before, catching snatches of rest where they could or sitting and sharpening their weapons in preparation for the battle tomorrow. They were a grim, solemn lot, with little of the jovial camaraderie that she had come to expect from her experiences with the company and the Dwarves at Ered Mithrin.
Their reactions towards her were varied as well: some would ignore her, some scowled fiercely at her as she passed, and others gave her looks that were merely curious.
It wasn't until she reached the royal quarters that she received a look of open disgust – Dain had been given a room up in the corridor along with the room she and Thorin had shared, and she encountered him just as she was approaching the door. He frowned at her in obvious disapproval, his lip curling into a sneer, but Lizzy simply inclined her head politely at him and continued into the room.
Thorin wasn't there yet, no doubt kept busy by all of the preparations that needed to be done for tomorrow, but someone had lit a fire in the grate and there was a suit of regal, gold plated armour on a stand in the corner that had not been there before.
It was well over an hour before Thorin joined her, finding her sitting on the edge of the bed with her elbows resting on her knees, her hands linked loosely between her legs as she stared into the dying fire.
His brow creased into a frown as he closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?" he asked, moving towards her.
Lizzy shrugged her uninjured shoulder. "Dain was giving me the stink eye for coming in here," she said dully, though this was the tip of the iceberg for what was wrong – everything was wrong. The battle was upon them and they had no guarantee that anything would be different, she would not be fighting beside Thorin and she still had a decision to make regarding where she would make her home once all of this was over, one that was now even harder with the knowledge that her family would never know what had happened to her.
"The company are accustomed to our habits, others are not," Thorin told her, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. "To Dain, it would appear …"
"Scandalous?" she supplied half-heartedly as he trailed off.
"Aye," he agreed, reaching forward with one hand to brush her Firebeard braid behind her ear.
Lizzy pursed her lips, looking into the fire. "I don't think he likes me very much," she said, thinking of the vehemently disapproving looks that Thorin's warlike cousin had given her since his arrival.
Thorin shook his head. "He does not know you," he said, no doubt trying to make her feel better.
There was a brief pause. "... I don't like him very much either," she admitted quietly without looking at him, biting down on the inside of her cheek after she spoke. She felt Thorin give her a questioning look and she shrugged once more. "Just a gut feeling, probably nothing," she said, though the worry was clear in her voice.
Thorin was frowning deeply at her. "He is my cousin," he said, as if that would change her opinion.
Lizzy tapped her fingers agitatedly on her knees and glanced at him. "You told me that the Ironfists were warlike, that there had been conflicts in the past," she prodded, as if she was picking at a scab – she didn't know why, exactly, she had this nagging suspicion of Dain, but she was used to trusting her gut and right now her instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong.
"Ages past," he assured her, his voice low. "There has not been a kin-slaying in many years."
She sniffed, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "He's the one that becomes king, you know. In the book," she admitted quietly, worriedly. Silence followed her words, then Lizzy sighed and put her head in her hands. With the both the battle and the end of her time in Middle Earth looming, her emotions were all over the place – she was no doubt projecting her anxieties for the coming battle onto Dain. "You know what? Don't listen to me, I am probably worrying over nothing." If Thorin trusted Dain then that would have to be enough for her, regardless of what her gut told her.
In response to her words, Thorin put his arm around her and carefully squeezed her shoulders, mindful of her injury.
There was silence for several long minutes, interrupted only by the crackle and popping of the burning logs, and Lizzy raised her head from her hands to cup her chin, leaning into his arm with her elbows braced on her knees as she continued to stare at the flames. "I spoke to Gandalf earlier," she said, her voice practically a whisper. "About what would happen if I did decide to stay."
"Aye?" Thorin asked, evidently trying hard to keep the curiosity out of his voice, though she could feel the tension in his body beside her.
"He said … he said that I would simply vanish from my world, that I would be, for all intents and purposes, missing ... forever." She swallowed hard and turned to look at him; the light from the dying fire was shining in his eyes, making his expression inscrutable. "You never knew what happened to your father, did you?" she asked quietly.
"No, I did not," he admitted, casting his gaze down to the floor.
"How did that make you feel?" she asked him, her voice hoarse as her gaze roved over his face. "I bet you thought about him every single day."
He did not reply and she took a deep breath, still sitting on the bed with his arm around her. "If I stay, my family will never know what happened to me," she said, a faint hitch in her voice at the idea. "You don't know my world, Thorin. I've never really spoken about the bad bits, but it is not as – as civilised as I perhaps made it out to be, there are still bad things that happen. There's still … slavery, human trafficking, rape and murder, and …" she paused, the hollowness in her stomach making her feel sick. "And if someone were to just go missing I think, after a while … I think their family would almost wish to find a body, just so that they knew the person wasn't being hurt or abused, or -"
She cut herself off, taking another deep breath but somehow feeling that she wasn't getting enough air, as if something was constricting her chest. "Oh god, they'll think the worst," she blurted out, turning to stare blankly at the wall. "They'll never know. And my little brother, he will feel so guilty for letting me walk into that forest on my own -" She dropped her head back into her hands once more and felt Thorin's hand moving soothingly down her back, her breathes almost coming in gasps.
"Elizabeth?" Thorin said questioningly, worriedly, his large hand still stroking down her back.
"I want to stay," she whispered wretchedly to him, feeling guilty at the mere thought. "I want this life so badly – but how can I be so selfish as to put my own happiness before theirs? I can't do it to them, I can't -"
"Elizabeth, stop," Thorin ordered firmly, moving to stand before her and pulling her hands from her face so that she was looking up at him. "These are not choices that you have to make right this second," he told her, his rough fingers caressing her hands. He paused, his thumbs sweeping over the backs of her hands. "... It may not even be a choice you have to make at all ... You said yourself that I may fall in this battle and that you would not stay if there was no one to stay for."
She looked up at him in horror; yes, she had said as much, but that didn't mean she wished the decision would be made for her, if anything she wanted this to be a hard choice, since that would mean he was alive. "Don't say that," she told him fiercely, climbing to her feet so that they were standing face to face. "Jesus, Thorin, No, you can't talk like that."
His eyes were sad, but also accepting and non-judgemental. "It's the truth, is it not?" he asked her quietly.
It was the truth; he was right, if he were to die in the battle then Lizzy knew there was no way she could stay in Middle Earth without him. She sighed, sad, overwrought and exhausted, and then leaned forward to kiss him softly.
"I am so scared for tomorrow," she admitted as she drew back, their hands entwined between them. "I wish I could be out there with you."
Thorin released one of her hands to touch her cheek, his fingers rough and gentle. "You understand my reasons though."
"Understanding isn't the same as liking it," she reminded him, her face falling into a faint frown. She had accepted that her place was not on the battlefield, not unless it was the uttermost need, but she still hated the feeling of impotence that remaining in safety filled her with.
He leaned forward to press his mouth to hers once again. "How could I do anything but return to you?" he murmured against her lips.
Lizzy wasn't sure whether to smile or cry at his words – so much of the story had changed, Thorin had fought the goldsickness and forged alliances with the men and the Elves, but still things could go wrong and that terrified her, especially since she could not be on the battlefield with him. Unable to find the words to express herself, she leaned into his kiss and, taking his hands in hers, drew him back towards the bed behind her.
Come morning there was a knock on the door and the message that the orc armies were in sight. Both still fully clothed, having done nothing but hold each other all night, they rose from the bed. Lizzy strapped her sword belt around her hips, as she did every morning, and Thorin started to don the impressive gold armour over his clothes. She had to help him with some bits and they worked in silence.
Once he was fully dressed they simply stared at each other for a long moment.
Still in silence, Thorin took her hand and led her from the room. They saw no one as they walked through the corridors and, much too soon for Lizzy's liking, they came to the point where their paths would diverge.
Lizzy reached out one hand to touch the cool metal of his thick, gold armour, the other holding a flaming torch since the sunlight did not permeate all areas of the mountain and there were passages that were pitch dark. "Your armour looks very regal," she said with a small, sad smile, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them. "Maybe later I will help you out of it," she half joked.
"I will hold you to that," Thorin replied, a hint of a smile tugging around his own mouth, belaying his tension.
She put her hand over his heart, desperately trying to think of what to say. "Don't do anything stupid," she blurted out. "Don't take any unnecessary risks, don't ..."
Thorin took her hand from his chest and squeezed it in both of his own. "No matter what happens I want you to stay in the mountain," he ordered firmly.
Lizzy shook her head slowly. "I can't promise that."
"Elizabeth ..." he said warningly.
"But I will promise that I won't leave unless I deem it one hundred percent necessary," she told him honestly. "And considering that I want to be out there with you, that's a big concession from me."
He thought about it for a moment, and then resignedly nodded his acceptance. Lizzy squeezed his hands tightly, never wanting to let go. "This is not goodbye, so I won't say it, I will simply say … that I will see you later," she said, trying to smile for him.
Thorin nodded, and then reached up to cup her cheek. "You'll make your way to the hall?"
She nodded, a vicious lump forming in her throat
Quickly – far too quickly for her liking – Thorin pressed his mouth briefly to hers, and then released her, turning to walk away. She watched him go, breathing deeply and feeling tears pricking at her eyes, terrified that she might never see him again, that she had failed and they hadn't done enough to change the outcome of the battle.
"A most heartfelt goodbye," a gruff, thickly brogued voice said from behind her.
Spinning around with one hand flying to her sword hilt, she saw Dain standing in the corridor behind her. Her breaths were coming quickly in shock and she was instantly on her guard. "And one that did not require an audience," she told him firmly, and then jerked her chin at him. "Shouldn't you be at the gate?"
"I am going there presently," he told her, walking slowly towards her and she instinctively backed up as well. He was fully dressed in his heavy armour and helm, his immense war-hammer held in one hand and his own flaming torch in the other. "There is a loose end that needs to be dealt with here first."
"Oh?" Lizzy said questioningly, one hand still curled around her sword hilt, the other holding the flaming torch.
"I have seen your interactions with my cousin, I know that you shared his bed last night and I have heard that human women are whores who are quick to spread their legs," he said, making her mouth drop open in shock. He then pointed his hammer at her abdomen. "Tell me, do you carry his babe in your belly?"
"I beg your pardon?" she said faintly, unable to believe what he was saying.
"Even born a bastard there are those who would rally to a child's side. Some would even claim that the items exchanged between the two of you are tantamount to an engagement, practically legitimizing a child," he said, nodding to the necklace where Thorin's ring was strung on the chain. "I cannot have anyone doubting my claim as heir."
Lizzy's mouth opened, but no words came out – absolute dread was filling her. "Fili and Kili are Thorin's heirs," she croaked eventually, her mind and heart both racing.
"They will not survive the battle, the Defiler will make sure of that," Dain told her, taking another step towards her as she instinctively backed away.
"... It was you, you were the one who betrayed the quest to Azog," she breathed in horror as the puzzle pieces slotted into place, remembering Thorin's conviction that someone had betrayed them back in Rivendell when it had become apparent that the company was being hunted. She shook her head violently. "Why? Thorin is your cousin."
Dain gave her a sneering look. "The Ironfists have always been looked down upon by the other tribes, but we were bound by our ancient oaths," he explained. "With the Arkenstone lost there is a fair bid for power," he said, and Lizzy resisted the urge to reach down and squeeze the Arkenstone that was still resting safely in the pocket of her cargo trousers. "There is a power greater than us in these lands, whom the Defiler is merely a servant of. In exchange for the kingship or Erebor, I have granted him access to the lands of Angmar," he said, and Lizzy knew he was talking about Sauron. He hefted the hammer in his hand, his eyes cold and pitiless. "We will have peace, and we will have power."
Lizzy had heard enough – scarcely pausing to think, she simply turned and ran for her life.
Acutely aware of Dain following, she sprinted for all she was worth, weaving her way through corridors and down stairs – she had tried to follow Thorin, to catch up to him, but she still didn't know her way around Erebor and she quickly found herself in unfamiliar corridors, running deeper into the bowels of Erebor where no sunlight filtered through from outside.
The light from her torch bounced wildly off the walls as she ran and she belatedly realised that Dain was able to use the glow of the torch to follow her, despite being slower than her in his heavy armour – but without the torch she would be in darkness, Erebor was dangerous and she would probably fall to her death from a walkway.
The thought had scarcely crossed her mind when she nearly ran out onto an broken bridge that spanned an impossibly deep chasm, stopping herself just in time. Dain was seconds behind her, the glow of his own torch swiftly approaching down the passage.
An idea occurred to her – she threw her torch down into the chasm, and then backed as far as she could against the wall behind her, finding a convenient hiding spot behind an old, damaged pillar.
She had barely managed to hide herself when Dain appeared at the edge of the bridge – she clamped a hand tightly over her mouth to try and hide her noisy, panicked breaths, the other wrapped around her sword hilt once more in case this didn't work.
The chasm was so deep that she could still see the faint flare of her torch dropping away into the depths – Dain stood at the brink of the chasm, watching until the falling light could no longer be seen. He then snorted to himself, a satisfied noise, and turned to retreat back up the passage, evidently thinking that she had fallen.
The light from his flaming torch fell briefly over Lizzy and her hiding place before its glow vanished up the corridor, leaving her alone in complete and utter darkness in the bowels of Erebor.
Thorin was stood before the closed gate, Fili and the rest of the company beside him and an army of Ironfist Dwarves at his back, meanwhile the Elves were in position on the battlements high above them, commanded by Kili. The two orc armies led by Azog and his spawn Bolg had filled the plains between the two cities of Dale and Erebor and were snarling their battle cries, eager for blood.
Dain appeared at his shoulder, hefting his heavy war-hammer as the gates of Erebor started to slowly open, letting in the light.
"To the death, cousin?" Dain said jovially, sounding like he was enjoying himself.
"To the death," Thorin agreed, raising his sword high in the air to lead the first charge.
Lizzy didn't think she had ever known such consuming darkness, not even when they had travelled in the depths of Mirkwood. She had waited, frozen in fear, until she could no longer see any trace of the glow of Dain's torch, and then had waited some more, unable to move.
Her breathing was quick, noisy and hectic in the dark as panic started to overtake her, wondering what on earth she would – could – do. Thorin was in danger – Fili and Kili were in danger - Dain had betrayed them from the start and now the Ironfists were in the mountain, blocking the gate.
She bit her lip fiercely, fighting back a whimper of fear – she was alone in the dark and the world was falling to pieces around her.
Then she paused and reached slowly into the pocket of her cargo trousers, hoping against hope – yes, there is was. Thranduil had returned the belongings that she had left spilt over the floor of the guardroom and she had pocketed her lighter without thinking the other day. Pulling it out, she flicked it on and stared at the tiny, wavering flame, a small halo of orange in that darkness.
High above her, she heard the echoing sounds of a war-cry from a rabble of orcs and she squeezed her eyes closed to gather her courage.
Outside, the battle had begun.
Dun dun DUN – sorry, I am a cliffhanger addict :)
I'm sorry it was such a long wait for this chapter - for those who don't follow me on Tumblr (and if you want to, you can find me under ~kindle-the-stars) and don't know what I've been doing from my various rants on my blog, I am applying for a PGCE course in Primary Teaching, so this past month has been consumed with personal statements, researching courses and unis, applications, and SO MANY voluntary placements on top of my regular work … it's been a busy few weeks!
Big thank you to Gem for proofing, and thank you all for your patience while I wrote this chapter :)
Leave a review, my lovelies – what do ya'll think is going to happen in the next few chapters?!
