Chapter 15: Broken Heart
She doesn't care anymore if she dies, she just wants to avenge Tauriel. To avenge Kili. Bolg attacks again and Gailien holds herself in defence, walking backwards as the slashes keep coming her way. She just needs him near the edge, and a little imbalance could send him right over. She lets him keep coming towards her and she flickers her eyes over her shoulder constantly, watching and waiting for the ledge to come into view.
Finally, the edge comes into sight, but her head is over her shoulder for a moment too long. Bolg strikes along the air, his sword knocking both of hers from her grip. Gailien shrieks in shock, her step stumbling as now she stands defenceless.
It seems that he doesn't want an easy death for her. He reaches forward, his long arms grasping her neck once more even though she takes a couple of steps back. This time, he turns her around again, holding her as he did for Tauriel. She grips the forearm around his neck, pushing her feet off of his thighs, kicking and screaming.
On the stone balcony above, Fili hears her strangled cries. He had heard her cry before and however painful it sounded – she was still alive then. But now he can hear the cry of frustration, altered by something else.
Determined, he places on hand on the wall and one on the stone. Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself upwards, holding his entire weight on his left foot. Low grunts pass his lips, but he stays standing. Using Gailien's bow as a makeshift crutch (though being sure to use it sparingly to not break it), Fili slowly hobbles towards the edge of the ledge that he originally fell onto.
The process is slow, becoming agonising as Gailien's gruntled cries continue even more but even though each step causes pain to flare up his leg, he knows what Gailien had tried to tell him earlier. And he intends to stop it.
With laboured breaths, he finally reaches the edge which overlooks the ground below and he falls back onto the ground, his broken leg outstretched to the side. It is Bolg and Gailien alone, the half-Elf being held to Bolg's chest and once again is slowly suffocating. The Orc enjoys the slow process, dragging out the pain he knows that he is causing. Gailien claws at him again, her sight only just beginning to become blurry.
Fili pulls one of the red-feathered bows from her quiver. He has to take a breath to stop the shaking that the pain has caused him. He knows that he is running out of time, her life trickling slowly like a sand timer. His chest shudders with each breath as he makes sure the arrow is nocked tight and true. Slowly, he pulls back the drawstring.
On the other side, Kili hobbles back to the fortress, Thorin's arm over his shoulder who has been stabbed through the foot. But they had done it, and now Azog lies at the bottom of the frozen river dead from Kili's blade. He smiled broadly as he had done it. This quest was the chance to prove himself – and he has done just that.
"We did it," Kili breathes out. "Azog is dead."
"Thanks to you," Thorin smiles softly through his own pain, limping heavily. But he has never been prouder of his nephew. Kili opens his mouth to respond but someone else's voice runs over his. Thorin's smile drops. "Gailien," he whispers. Kili's eyes widen as they stretch their necks, hobbling along the rocks as fast as they can towards the strangled cries. It is almost as if his foot wound is forgotten, just a heavy limp without the pain.
They finally trek up the small incline and see why Gailien's strangled cries are the only thing they can hear. "Gailien?!" Kili calls out her name, pausing in shock as Bolg holds her tight in his grip, facing them. Thorin growls, his sword already clutched in his hand and prepares himself to run forward. But a glint of red in the near distance makes him stop for a moment, spying Fili with the bow at the ready.
Bolg, though an Orc, was not raised on the stupidity of the rest of his race. He sees the eyes of the two Durin Dwarves change over his shoulder. Gailien's face is bright red, her efforts now spent on trying to keep her head up so her weight doesn't pull it down. She sees the two Dwarves arrive, and she doesn't know whether that is the best or worst thing to happen.
Bolg discreetly looks over his shoulder and also notices the tint of red behind him. He waits.
Fili lines up the shot, aiming for where his heart would be through his back. The bow shakes slightly in his grip but Bolg is a big target. He doesn't even have to kill the Orc, only do what Gailien had done for him – get him to release her.
So he releases.
And Bolg turns.
Gailien is swung around, her back bending backwards as Bolg seems to open her heart up to the sky but it doesn't take long for her to figure out why. At first, it is just a short twang, almost a numb feeling but as she glances down, the pain becomes unbelievable. Poking out of the right side of her chest is the shaft of an arrow, detailed with a red feathering. Her own arrow.
Fili doesn't understand for a moment. The red tip of the arrow pointing outwards from Bolg but he barely stumbles. Then the realisation of what he has done settles in his mind. "NO!"
The bow drops from his hand, tumbling over the side of the balcony, bouncing off the stone below. Kili and Thorin don't understand either, only being able to see Bolg's back.
Gailien's mouth hangs open, her hands and legs frozen in spot as she struggles to come to terms with just how much pain she really is in. The arrow tip has gone right through her, piercing into Bolg's chest but barely half a finger deep.
The Orc smirks up at the blond prince, letting the Elf under his arms go. Gailien drops to the ground, her knees jarring first then falls to her side. The side of her head knocks against the ground, but you could bang it with a hammer, and she wouldn't feel it at this point.
As the Orc steps aside, Kili and Thorin are finally shown what is happened. Gailien lies on the ground, the red arrow sticking from her chest. Thorin's own knees almost crumble under him.
"No," Kili whispers, shaking his head. His grip on Thorin slackens and the king falls to his knees, breathing heavily.
Then the final Dwarf arrives, his axe swinging through the air. Bolg, too distracted by the expressions of the Dwarves face, doesn't even hear him coming. Dwalin slices his battle-axe, the metal meeting flesh and Bolg's head separates entirely from his body. Still stuck in a smirk, Bolg's head slowly slides down off his neck, bouncing slightly on the ground.
Dwalin drops the end of his battle-axe, seeing Gailien lying on the ground. "Oh, lass," he whispers, walking forward. Kili and Thorin come back to their sense, the younger leaving Thorin to fend for himself as he sprints towards her.
Fili also pushes himself back up, already struggling down the stairs. Unimaginable guilt riddles him, more painful than his broken leg. He shot that arrow.
Gailien breathes slowly, her eyes wide open and looking directly in front of her at the ground. She can hear people coming towards her, but she doesn't want to look at them. She let Tauriel die. She broke her promise.
With great effort, Gailien places her palm into the ground and begins to push up. Her scream catches in her throat, turning into a deep moan instead. Her eyes close as she sits herself up, dragging her feet underneath her, her palms still resting against the ground in front of her.
Her fingers wrap around the shaft of the arrow and she doesn't allow herself to think about it and just pulls. This time the scream doesn't get caught in her throat. Dwalin winces as he kneels next to her, taking the arrow from her hands.
Kili falls to his knees in front of her, Thorin still stumbling up to them as fast as he can. He reaches out with both hands to her but Gailien shakes her head, raising one hand to push them both away. "Gailien?" he whispers, reaching out again. She broke her promise. He doesn't even realise yet. Her hand pushes him away again.
"Tauriel," she whispers, two tears escaping through her clenched eyes. Kili frowns, swallowing hard as his gaze drifts over her shoulder. He can see her, just under an archway. It sends a shard through his heart. "I…I…I couldn't," she chokes out. "I couldn't save her."
Kili shakes his head, pushing the red-haired Elf from his mind. "Gailien," he states slowly. "You need to keep your eyes open. Do you hear me, Karr'a?"
Gailien nods, her eyes opening once more. Kili's hands rest on the side of her arm as he moves closer and she folds into him. She sobs loudly, gripping the back of his head, her fingers wrapping around the braid that she put in there as the young prince holds her tight against him. Kili places his hand on her back, pressing his palm hard into the wound. The blood slips through his fingers but he clenches his jaw, looking straight ahead over her shoulder, only pressing harder.
"We're going to go hunting later, remember?" he says quietly. "Just you and me with our bows."
Gailien lets out another sob, nodding her head vigorously. "I would love that," she says, repeating her words from earlier, her cries quietening down as her muscles cannot keep up. Thorin finally arrives, having to nearly crawl as his entire right leg burns. He falls to his knees next to the pair, reaching out for her.
Gailien sighs, letting herself fall into his chest. Thorin wraps his arms tightly around her, placing his palm over the exit wound to try and hold the blood in as his nephew's hand grips her arm instead. Thorin's mouth is clenched shut, his nose flaring as he tries to just think.
"Here," Dwalin says, handing him a bundled cloth that has been pulled off his own tunic. Thorin takes the cloth, moving Gailien forward and he presses it against the large red path on her front. Gailien knows that it isn't going to do much and lets herself fall back into his chest, but raises one of her hands to her arm, gripping Kili's hand. She keeps her eyes open, staring at the young prince.
"I told you we'd see each other again," she whispers. Kili shakes his head, not smiling.
"Not like this," he whispers back. He looks past her up to Dwalin. "Go! Get help – get anybody!"
Dwalin nods, running past them and back down the side of Ravenhill. Gailien coughs deeply, blooding pooling in her mouth, spilling over the side of her lips. Her vision starts to blur, the individual rings on Thorin's chainmail mixing together. "I'm…I'm glad I got to…to see you like yourself again," she rasps, breathing slow and heavy but audible, the arrow having pierced her lung.
Thorin shakes his head. In truth, he hasn't yet comprehended that she is dying. "Just keep still," he says calmly, breathing heavily through his nose. "The more you move, the more you'll bleed."
"I think it's only a matter of time," she counters tiredly, her eyes beginning to drift. "Did you do it? Is Azog dead?"
"Yeah," Thorin whispers. "Kili did it." His grip on her tightens as he looks over his shoulder as though Dwalin may already be returning with a team of their best medics. A low whimper passes through his throat, moving his other hand to the back of her head, holding it under his chin. Gailien smiles to herself, feeling secure in his tight grip, listening to his heart.
"I'm glad." Something wet drips on her head and she shifts her eyes from Kili's slowly fuzzing face to Thorin's above her. He isn't looking at her, just well beyond into the distance. "Where's Fili?"
Kili looks over his shoulder, taking note of his brother who stands behind them, watching silently. He gestures with his head to come over, but Fili doesn't move.
Thorin's eyes snap to his nephew. "Fili," he snaps.
Fili clenches his jaw, already expecting the blame to be thrown his way but Thorin only mimics Kili's gesture, signalling for him to come over. Anything she wants, Thorin thinks to himself. They just need to wait here, keep her calm and still until medics arrive. She will have anything and everything that she wants for as long as he is king.
Fili slowly clambers over, falling down next to his brother silently. He can't find it in himself to look at her and his chin is pulled to his opposite shoulder, keeping his gaze low. "Fili?" He lifts his eyes, meeting Gailien's slightly unfocused ones. Her hand moves from Kili's, stretching out towards him, tears already tracking down the side of his face.
Gailien slowly leans towards him, unwinding her other arm from Thorin to reach out to her Dwarf brother. Fili reaches out to meet her, using his uninjured leg to balance his seat. Kili helps her move, supporting her weight as she shifts to the blonde prince. Thorin swallows, reluctantly letting her out of his grip. She's going to live. "Keep her still," he orders.
He pulls her onto his uninjured thigh, resting her side against his torso and she winds her arms around his neck, burrowing her head into it. Fili bites his lip, barely stopping the wail of guilt and pain slipping through as his arms lock her in a vice grip. "I'm so sorry," he whispers into her hair, cupping the back of her head. "I am so sorry."
"It was a good shot," she mumbles. "Too bad I was in the way."
"Don't even try to joke," his hisses. "I…I can't…" He can't deal with it. He can't believe it happened. He can't think of what to do. His face screws shut and if he had his hands free, he would hide behind it but the hard sob bubbles through his chest. Gailien cries too but it comes through just as tears, her body too tired to do anything else.
Kili shuffles closer, brushing the hair away from her face that hides behind the curtain. Her eyes are open, staring at Fili's shoulder. Kili leans in closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Helps nearly here," he says. "Just hold on for a little longer."
"I'm scared Kee," she confesses, eyes fluttering. She never thought she would be scared of her own death – what is there to fear? Once you die, there is nothing. But that is exactly what she fears. She doesn't want to let everybody go.
Kili clenches his jaw, placing his hand back on her back, over the bleeding wound, trying not to watch the blood seep through his fingers. Thorin stands, breathing deeply as he looks around for the help Dwalin is bringing back. He doesn't know what to think, what to say. He just feels lost.
"Just keep those eyes open for me," Kili mumbles. Gailien hums in acknowledgement, opening her eyes a little wider. As her hair falls back over her face, Kili moves his eyes up to his brother. The emotion is written on Fili's face. Fili looks back at him, not having any words. 'She's going to be okay,' Kili mouths, nodding slightly. Fili shakes his head, scrunching his eyes shut.
Gailien lips turn up in the smallest of smiles but it slowly drops as her eyes close. Her tight hold on Fili begins to slip, his armoured clothes falling out from underneath her fingers. With nothing holding them in place, her arms start to slip. Fili's breathe catches in his throat as he picks up the slight difference. "Ga-Gailien? Hey?" Thorin's eyes snap back to them, his thoughts being captured by wondering where Dwalin is.
Fili tips his head down as Kili brushes her hair away again. Her eyes are closed, cheek pressing against his chest. Fili starts to shake his head, mumbling. "No, no, no, no." Gailien's hands limply slide off the side of his shoulders, resting finally at her sides, nothing holding her up but the Dwarf's vice grip.
Thorin leaps forward, pulling her from his nephew's grip and onto his own lap, resting her head in the crook of his elbow. He taps her cheek, getting no response. "You're not gone," he denies. "You can't say that you love me then just leave me. That's not how this works." His right-hand hovers, shaking slightly as his mind reels with what to do. "You were supposed to keep her still!"
Fili's mouth opens and closes silently before he can speak. "I-I did."
Kili's hand cups his mouth, biting hard into the skin of his finger but quickly removes it as he tastes her blood. Fili sits there numbly, his arms still curled slightly, holding nothing but air. "Where's Dwalin?" Kili questions, rising to his feet. He spins around, looking for any sign of the warrior Dwarf returning with Oin or another healer. He tries to breathe slowly but even so he feels lightheaded. "Where's Dwalin?!"
"Give her to me." The three Dwarves' heads snap over to the blonde Elf who marches towards them. Legolas' face remains stony, already having seen enough death for a lifetime in one day. None of the Dwarves know what to say or do until he bends down, hands reaching out to take Gailien from Thorin.
"No," his hisses, holding her to his chest. "I'm not handing her back over to the Elves."
Kili spins around, striding up to the tall Elf. He holds up a pointed finger, eyes blazing. "She's our kin!" he spits. "Your people can stay away from ours!"
Legolas stands to his full height again but does not talk with the same fury as the youngest Durin. "My kin can save her." At this, their expressions change and Kili shakes his head. "You cannot hear what I do." He kneels back down next to the Dwarven king, pulling her from his grip. Thorin stares at the prince, very reluctantly letting her go. "I can hear her heartbeat. Unconscious does not mean dead. Not yet." He lifts her up, standing once more. "I will be faster than any of you, and faster than any healer you have called for."
Kili looks to his uncle with an incredulous expression. "Thorin?" he whispers.
Thorin remains staring at the Elf. "Take her," he orders.
Legolas nods once to the king and as he starts to run off, they cannot even hear his footsteps as he disappears into the mist. Thorin stays in his spot numbly, trying to figure out why he has so much blood on him. Kili falls to his knees, his fists pressing against the ground.
Fili leans over his side, vomiting.