A/N: Hey guys! Look, it's an early chapter to celebrate the fact that my grandma's going to be a-okay! She just needs a lot of rest. Thank you all for all of your well wishes :)

On that note: Blood warning, again. With some exceptions occurring in the next chapter, this should be the last of it. Also, this chapter is only 10 pages long. You guys are going to hate me for this chapter, I just know it.

Chapter Twenty

Will poked at the tiny fire, trying to keep the coals bunched together so that their heat could continue keeping the stew warm until Ashailyn, Fifika, Lovisa, and Girish returned from their observation missions. Nakara, Dwalin, and Nori were on watch around the camp while everyone else was asleep. He leaned back against the tree, rubbing his stomach with his hand; his guts were churning, but not in a sickly fashion. He felt nervous and even a bit scared, but he couldn't possibly guess why.

Leaning over, he plucked up the wooden spoon and used it to lift the lid off of the stew pot. It had been a good dinner of rabbit stew with some stolen carrots and potatoes (Nori had snuck into town once again) and he wanted to steal another bite or two, but he knew better. With the way his stomach was feeling, he knew he shouldn't risk it; not to mention, the four rangers had yet to eat and would more than likely be starving when they returned. As he stirred the stew, he saw that there was enough left for at least ten people thanks to the rangers having caught five rabbits.

'Too bad we won't be able to eat like this when the others are rescued,' he thought. 'Dad and Adela won't be too happy with how much weight I've lost these past few weeks. Though, I suppose they'll be too distracted by Baylee's state. I hope she hasn't lost any more weight along with her fingers…She can't afford to lose much more.'

A shrill whistle filled the air, causing him to curse and drop the spoon into the pot. Luckily, it was too long to sink all the way in and part of the handle still protruded from the pot. Will, however, ignored the spoon as he tried to peer through the darkness. Two more whistles echoed through the forest, these ones softer and coming from a nearby tree.

Nakara dropped down from the tree, but before Will could ask what was going on, he ran off in the direction of the wall. He supposed that the other rangers had finally returned from their missions and he turned back to eyeing the fire. The various calls seemed to have woken up various members of the group, however, and they started to grumpily stir.

"Kulhu Mahal kherum tada?" Bifur grumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Aklat zurkur rukhsaz…" He rubbed his face with one hand as he let out a long yawn.

"Don't think it was an orc," Bofur grunted. He pushed himself onto his knees, his hat tugged down over his eyes. He didn't bother fixing it; instead, he turned his head towards Will. "Lad, do you know what's goin' on?"

"I haven't a clue," he replied with a shrug. Reaching into the pot, he dared to steal a bit of rabbit meat and pop it into his mouth. As he swallowed, he was glad to find that his stomach was not going to protest.

Rán sat up, though kept her eyes shut as she listened to the surrounding noises. "How many whistles came before Nakara answered?"

"Just one."

She nodded before getting to her feet. "Stay here. No one leave the sight of the fire." She hurried into the forest, following in Nakara's footsteps.

"Stayin' in sight o' the fire's a bit hard," Bofur yawned, flopping back down. "It's built into the ground. Can't see it unless you're within two feet of the blasted thing." He nuzzled his head into his pack, which he had been using as a pillow, and let out a grunt.

Will chuckled and nodded, finally fetching the spoon as he heard approaching footsteps. "Well, it keeps it from being-" The spoon dropped into the pot again as he glanced up, seeing Fifika, Ashailyn, and Lovisa returning. Rán was with them, but none of the rangers had managed to catch his eye –his gaze was fixed on the sight of a blood-soaked Baylee walking between Ashailyn and Fifika and beaten-up Ori limping alongside Lovisa.

Jumping to his feet, he raced towards them. Baylee let out a small cry and stumbled towards Will, her arms outstretched. They met in the middle, Will plucking his big sister off of the ground and holding her tightly against him while sobbing his thanks to the Valar. He could feel the blood on her skin and skirt soaking through his shirt and trousers, but he could not have cared less. All that mattered to him at the moment was that he had his sister back and that she was mostly whole.

Dwalin raced past them and snatched up Ori, spinning him in a small circle before giving him a deep kiss. A surprised curse left Ori's mouth, but he laughed and flung his arms around Dwalin's neck, happily kissing him in return as he unconsciously wrapped his legs around Dwalin's torso, tangling his fingers in his hair. He had been hoping to see Nori first, but his lover was just as pleasant of a sight for now.

Bofur glanced up, his eyes widening as he saw the returning group. He jumped to his feet and dashed forward a couple of paces, wanting to greet Ori and Baylee, before suddenly stopping. 'No,' he told himself. 'Let them see their family and Dwalin first. They've been so worried about them, they deserve the first hugs.' Regardless, he let out a relieved sigh as he smiled at them.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise!" he laughed aloud. "We've got two o' our friends back!"

Rán glanced over at him. "It would be better if it were under different circumstances. We need to leave. Now." Her voice had none of the happiness that everyone else was feeling; instead, it bore an almost scary sense of urgency.

Will looked over at her. "But we can't leave yet –Ori an' Baylee are hurt! Look at her; she's covered in blood!"

"It's not mine," Baylee replied, her voice tiny. "Well, some o' it is, but most o' it isn't…"

He stared at his sister. "Baylee…"

"Not now, Will. Please. Not now." She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering.

Rán set her hand on his arm. "We need to pack up and leave," she told him, her voice gentle. "It is a mile to the horses and you may need to carry her. Do you think you can handle that?"

"She's lighter than a butterfly; I can handle it," he replied. Rán nodded and walked off to alert the others, leaving them alone.

"I can walk," Baylee protested. "An' I'm heavier than a butterfly…"

"Not right now, you're not," he told her, carrying her over to his things. "Baylee…are ya hurt anywhere? Be honest."

She shook her head. "I think I just have a split lip," she told him. She glanced around as he started to shove his cloak into his pack; taking it from him, she started to roll it into a small, tight log. "You never could pack well."

He quietly laughed. "We're in a bit o' a hurry."

"I know. It's my fault." She handed him the cloak, her eyes not meeting his until he lightly lifted her chin. "I killed someone," she whispered.

"Well…I figured that one out, 'Lee. You're covered in their blood."

"She was tryin' to hurt Ori…I didn't mean t' kill her, Will. I thought I just stabbed her, but she bled out on me." She started to shake again and closed her eyes, holding herself. "Now we could be in trouble an' it's all my fault-"

He pulled her against him. "Shh, it's alright, 'Lee. You were protectin' him. Sometimes, the only way t' keep your friends an' family safe is t' kill someone."

"I don't like it. I can handle killing goblins…but humans…" She shook her head.

"You're not supposed t' like it," he assured her. "It's never easy."

Across the camp, Ori was watching as Nori and Dwalin hurriedly gathered their things. For the most part, Dwalin had been quiet; Ori knew that it was because he was trying to keep himself from bursting out into a fit of joyful sobbing. It was nice, though, because, instead, the large dwarf showed his relief through hugs and kisses –something Ori never grew tired of.

Nori, on the other hand, seemed off. He had given Ori a brief hug before rushing over to his belongings; he had been hunched over them since then, quietly talking to himself. At least, Ori thought he was talking to himself.

So when he approached his brother and saw him gently lifting up a sleep baby, he had to cover his mouth to keep himself from shouting out. "Nori, what in Mahal's name is that?" he hissed through his fingers.

"What does it look like?" he quietly asked. "He's a baby." He slipped Zori into the makeshift sling across his chest.

He rubbed his face. "Where did you get a baby of all things!?"

"I stole him last night from his mother."

"Why a baby, Nori? Is he made o' solid gold or got rubies for eyes?"

Nori sighed and glanced up at his little brother. "Ori, I saw his mother throw him into the street as if he were garbage. There was yellin' and screaming going on inside of the house –I knew she wouldn't take him back." He looked down at Zori as he slept, managing to hide the smile that was trying to come to his lips. "I saved him. I know this situation isn't really the best-"

"Far from it."

"-But I had t' do something. I wasn't going let him stay there and probably die." He shrugged his pack on. "Anyway, he sort o' cute…for a baby. Kind o' like you when you were a babe, but without all o' the hair."

Ori felt his cheeks turn pink. "You weren't around when I was a baby."

Nori frowned. "Of course I was!" He clapped his hand on Ori's shoulder. "Who else could have told you all those stories about Arîdain an' the forty thieves or Rûmpilskilkín? Dori would never tell you such 'outlandish tales that glorify thieving'," he chuckled.

Looking at his feet, Ori lightly kicked at the ground. "That's true," he mumbled. He quietly gasped as Nori suddenly gave him a tight hug, but returned it with a small smile. As much as he resented Nori's presence at times, he had to admit that he had missed his middle brother.

"I'm glad you're safe," he murmured, patting him on the back. "This is some adventure you've had, isn't it?"

Ori sighed, following alongside his brother as they started to walk through the forest. "It's not quite over yet, it seems."

His words could not have been truer, for they had just scarcely reached the horses when the still night air was blown apart with the sound of dozens of trumpets. Startled, the horses let out fearful cries and tugged at the ropes that secured them to trees. Their riders were able to calm them, though it took many precious minutes to do such.

"They'll be scourin' the city before they send out warg riders," Will told them as he fumbled with one of his saddle bags. Through the dark, Baylee could see him untying a long pole from underneath it.

Rán nodded in agreement. "They do not yet know that Baylee and Ori have fled the city; no doubt, they believe that they have gone towards the sea or to the south –those are the easiest points to flee to." She started to ready her horse, glancing over at her fellow rangers. In their native tongue, she gave them quick orders.

"Here." Will handed the long object to Baylee, who took it from him. "I have the feeling you'll be needing this. I found it at the spot where the caravan was attacked."

She quietly laughed as she ran her hand along the haft of the weapon. "It's my spear…O' all things you could find at that spot, ya found my spear."

He lightly shrugged, grinning. "Well, it's a good thing I found it, right? Seems like we're about to get into a bit o' a fight…"

"No." He looked down as Rán came over. "You two, Lovisa, and the dwarves are going to ride ahead," she ordered. "Girish and Tyko are still in the city, no doubt trapped now. I have sent Nakara and Kreine in to help, but the rest of us will remain at the pass to hopefully stop or hinder anything that comes out of the city." She looked between the two siblings. "If things do not go well, you must ride for Dorwinion. You will find safety in its capital."

Baylee shook her head. "No…Rán, they have dozens an' dozens o' warg riders. You seven won't stand a chance. It'd be better if ya came with us t' fight in a group!"

Rán gave her a comforting smile. "The pass is narrow, Lady Baylee," she told her. "Whatever comes our way will be forced to squeeze into small ranks in order to get through. That will give us a bit of an advantage, especially if we hide ourselves well enough. They will not expect our arrows piercing their hides."

She nodded slowly before handing something to Rán. "You can have this back," she told her. "It kept me safe, even if it did lead t' this mess."

Shaking her head, Rán lightly covered her hand and pressed it back to her. "You may yet need it again, Lady Baylee. Return it when our safety is guaranteed." She then looked up at Will. "I have put Dwalin in charge," she told him. "Listen to him and you should be safe."

Will nodded. "We will." As Rán walked off, he looked at the other dwarves. "Baylee, I think you best ride with Bofur instead of me," he quietly told her.

"Why's that?" she asked, frowning slightly.

He pulled his flail from his saddlebag. "Because when it comes time for us t' fight, I don't want t' accidentally bash you upside the head with this," he told her with a small chuckle. "So you'll ride with Bofur. Anyway, his mattock isn't the best of weapons to use when riding a horse –if it comes to that."

She nodded, though her cheeks flushed as her brother led her over to Bofur's horse. As they approached, Bofur was trying his best to climb atop the large creature, his arms flung over the saddle as he tried to hook his foot in the stirrup for a bit of leverage. The horse did not seem the least bit amused by this, and instead seemed to be rather relieved when Will grabbed Bofur's foot and hoisted him up properly.

"Thanks, lad," he grunted, righting himself. He smiled when he saw Baylee's silhouette beside the tall human.

"No trouble," he told him. "Baylee's goin' to ride with you. I'd have her with me, but with my flail, it's just too dangerous."

He nodded. "That sounds fine by me," he replied. As Will plucked up Baylee –much to her chagrin- he scooted forward in the saddle so that she would have plenty of room to sit. He was thankful it was dark; his cheeks were on fire.

It was then that Dwalin gave out a shout and the others started to trot off. Bofur flicked the reigns and the horse followed after. He glanced over his shoulder as he felt Baylee wrap her arms around him.

"How're you farin', lass?" he quietly asked her.

"I could be better…but we're goin' t' be safe soon, so I'll be fine." He couldn't see it, but he knew she wore a small smile. "What I really need is a bath t' get all this blood off o' me."

He patted her hand. "Bifur supposes it'll rain sometime tonight. That may help ya a wee bit."

"It may. For now, though, it's just horrible lookin' down an' see all that red. It's almost like my own stomach was cut open." She blinked, leaning back slight as Bofur started to wriggle out of his vest. "What're you doin'?"

After a moment, he got the garment off. "Here," he told her, holding it over his shoulder. "Put this on. You won't have t' see the red anymore."

"It'll get blood on it, though…"

He laughed again. "Lass, it's seen its fair share o' blood since I've had it. A bit more won't do it any harm. Anyway…I hate t' say it, but none o' us are exactly at our cleanest right now. If anythin', it'll make you smell like us an' for that, I apologize because we reek."

She quietly giggled. "You've been travelin' the wilds. It's understandable." As she tugged the vest on, she peered over her shoulder, trying to see through the darkness. She hadn't any idea how Dwalin was able to lead them, but the horses were following behind him in a straight, uphill line. Pulling the vest close around her form, she wrapped her arms back around Bofur's chest, letting her eyes close. With the adrenaline rush of fighting Damayanti having dissipated, she felt hungry and exhausted.

Almost as if reading her mind, Bofur patted her hand again. "Go ahead an' try t' get some rest, lass," he quietly told her. "I won't let ya fall off."

"Thank you," she murmured, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"How much danger do you suppose we're in?"

"Quite a bit, t' be honest. I don't think Rán an' her rangers are goin' t' be much o' a match against a pack o' wargs."

"Not to mention their riders."

"Aye, tha' too. That's why I'm tryin' t' get as much distance between us an' them before we stop for a break." He glanced down at Ori as the smaller dwarf leaned back against his chest. Lifting his hand, he lightly caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry 'bout yer beard, Ori. Those wenches had no right t' shave it off."

Ori clasped his hand and kept it pressed against his face. "I know…at least it'll grow back now. They were havin' me shave at least twice a day because o' the stubble. I didn't even know how t' shave before this." Tilting his head back, he smiled up at Dwalin. "It may take a while, but it'll come back an' be even thicker now."

At that, Dwalin had to snort. "I don't know, Ori…yer beard wasn't very thick t' start off with." As Ori pouted, he grinned cheekily. "It was a nice beard, though. I'm sure it'll come back in even nicer, especially if we get yeh t' Gerdi. She's got all sorts o' ways t' make hair grow back faster an' thicker."

"Of course she would; she's the prettiest dwarrow lady in the whole of Erebor." He covered his mouth as he yawned; morning was dawning through the trees and they had yet to hear or see any sign of pursuit. "When we get back, I'll inquire about some brews, though…I feel so ugly without it."

Dwalin raised his brow and kissed the top of Ori's head. "Yer just as handsome as ever, beard or no." Leaning over, he gently nuzzled his cheek while sighing in content. "An' I've got yeh back. Things can only get better from here on out."

He nodded, letting his eyes close as she snuggled back against Dwalin's chest. "That they can…you know what I want to do when we get back t' Dale?"

"Hm?"

"Get drunk. The only alcohol I've had these past few weeks has been flavored with lemons. I need a good, strong ale or mead in my belly."

"Well, I can't argue with tha'. I'll make sure t' buy yeh plenty o' rounds when we get home. An' some food, too…We haven't had a decent meal in weeks."

Ori gave him a pitying kiss on the jaw. "That's where we did a bit better than you, but again…it mostly tasted o' lemons or mint. I don't think I ever want to see another lemon or mint sprig in my life."

"Well, mint's green…an' yeh hate green food."

"Exactly! It's rabbit food, not fit for our consumption."

Dwalin laughed heartily before giving Ori a tight squeeze. "Ah, lad…I've missed yeh, even if yeh complain 'bout strange things." He kissed his cheek. "I love yeh."

"Love you, too, Dwalin."

He was just about to kiss his lover on the lips when a howl filled the air. Dwalin cursed and turned the horse around, his eyes wide. In the distance, both he and Ori could see the shapes of at least twenty wargs and their riders racing towards them. They had no doubt that more followed behind.

"We can't outrun 'em!" Nori called out. "They're too fast an' the horses are too tired to go much further!"

Dwalin clenched his teeth. "We dwarves are useless on these horses anyway…" He felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced over, finding Lovisa.

'Me, Will, Baylee charge,' she told him. 'Have fought on horseback.'

"I can't risk the three o' yeh chargin' in an' dyin' –not when we just go Baylee back!"

'She ride well. Can fight!'

"It would be a good distraction, too," Ori quickly added. "It'll give us a chance t' get in a defensive position."

He nodded quickly. "Everyone, listen up!" he shouted. "We don't have much time –Will, yeh, Baylee, an' Lovisa are goin' t' charge after the wargs on the horses! The rest o' us are goin' t' fight on the ground –we're better off with our feet planted." As he spoke, he and Ori dismounted, gathering their weapons.

"What?" Bofur cried. "That's too dangerous! What if one o' them-" He faltered as he felt Baylee take the reins from him. "Baylee, you can't go out there like tha'…"

She set her hand on his cheek. "I have to. I'll have an advantage over them this way." She glanced over at Will and Lovisa who were ready to charge. "Ya need t' dismount, Bofur. They'll be here any second."

Clenching his jaw, he nodded stiffly. "Lass, if ya die, I won't forgive you."

Baylee managed a smile. "An' I won't forgive you if you die, either."

As he got off of the horse, she slid forward in the saddle and guided the animal over to Lovisa and Will. Gripping his mattock, he swallowed hard as the three of them prepared their weapons. He backed up so that he was standing between Bifur and Nori, not letting his eyes leave the sight of the horses; he didn't even notice that he had started to cry.

The growling was getting ever closer; Will was twitching in his seat and Lovisa was putting the shafts of three arrows between her teeth while nocking a fourth one. Baylee, though, sat up straight in the saddle, her spear gripped in her hand. All three wore the same look of determination. Dwalin shouted at them when the howls and growls were nearly a hundred yards away. The trio of horses took off into the darkness and Bofur caught himself shouting at them to stay safe and whole.

Seconds later, the dwarves could hear snarling and howls of pain. They gripped their weapons in anticipation, their eyes darting about. Nori swallowed hard.

"Someone…someone try t' stay behind me," he told the others, not caring that his voice betrayed his fear. "Please. I don't want t' have rescued Zori only for him t' get hurt like this."

"Don't worry," Ori told him, holding Dwalin's war hammer. "I've got your back." He reached behind him and set a hand on Nori's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then the wargs came.

It seemed like they had come from all sides in endless droves. The only relief they saw was that most of the beasts lacked riders. For many minutes, the dwarves did their best to stay in their defensive circle, but it was soon broken and they were left scattered, Bifur having chased a group of wargs into the east and Bofur heading south. Dwalin had his back to a tree, his axes slicing through human and warg alike. In the middle of it all, their backs nearly pressing together, were Nori and Ori, fighting not only to keep themselves safe, but Zori as well.

But there were no signs of Will, Lovisa, or Baylee.

A pained cry filled the forest: Bofur. A warg had jumped on him from behind, pinning him to the ground. Grabbing onto his shoulder with its teeth, it flung him into the air, his body slamming against a tree. Curses flew from his mouth as he scrambled to his knees, trying to crawl towards his mattock despite the pain in his back.

The warg jumped in the way, snarling menacingly at him. Bofur froze, fear having paralyzed him. For a brief second, a scene from his past filled his vision. All he could see was a dying dwarf woman in his arms, her body rent by warg teeth.

"You leave him alone!"

His head snapped up in time to see the end of a spear pierce the side of the warg's neck. It let out a gurgling growl and toppled over as a Baylee rode towards it, leaning over to retrieve her weapon. Bofur got to his feet, calling out his thanks to her as he dashed for his mattock.

Just as his fingers gripped its shaft, Baylee cried out.

Spinning around, he watched in horror as she was ripped off of her mare by another warg, its teeth sunk nearly to the gum in her thigh and hip. Pure anger filled Bofur and he shouted, his mattock raised as he ran at the beast. It shook Baylee in its jaws before dropping her in a heap. As it saw the dwarf, it made to leap into the air, but did not make it that far.

Bofur slammed his mattock down with all his strength, feeling bone shatter and brain gush under the flat of his weapon. Blood and brain matter splattered onto his face, though he paid it no mind –this warg had a rider and she was just as angry as him.

Jumping off her fallen mount, the woman raced at Bofur, two large, curved blades in hand. He winced, barely able to block her blows with the handle of his mattock. A curse flew from his mouth as his feet were knocked out from underneath him by the woman and he fell back, positive he was about to die-

A blur of pinto crashed atop the woman. He looked up, seeing Baylee back in the saddle, her spear back in her hand. She grinned down at him before turning her horse and riding off.

Bifur had killed at least five wargs and three women. He wasn't proud of killing the women, but given the size of the wargs, he couldn't help but feel prideful of their slayings. Now, however, he was pinned against a tree with three armed women blocking him. His spear in hand, he kept his eyes darting around, looking for anything else he could use to aid in his escape.

One of the women lunged at him, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Bifur used the sharp end of his spear to block the sword while he brought the butt of it around, trying to knock it into the woman's face. It hit her shield instead. She stabbed at his stomach, but he hopped out of the way only to let out a cry. A second woman had brought her blade across his back, cackling evilly. He was thankful he wore so many layers –if he had worn less, the blow may have been deadly.

Spinning around, he slashed down with his spear, watching the woman fall to the ground, her face cloven. The third woman leapt forward onto his back, wrapping a thin, metal wire around his neck. She pulled it extra tight so that her garrote would choke him through all his hair and beard. He reached back and grabbed her wrists before flinging her over his head. The action sent both of them flying to the ground.

The first woman raised her sword, ready to bring it down through Bifur's neck when an arrow flew into her skull. Before she could get up, the second woman also got an arrow, but this one was to the throat. Bifur sat up, tapping his fingers against his chin at Lovisa as she rode by. He felt his cheeks flush as she winked at him –it had been a rather flirtatious wink.

"Y'know, Ori –you're gettin' pretty good with that hammer!"

"It's not a hard weapon t' use."

"How many have you slain so far? Seven? Eight?"

"Truthfully, I haven't been keepin' track."

"Oh. Shame." He brought his knife across the throat of a woman. "I've gotten six. How's Zori?"

Ori glanced over his shoulder, able to peek at the wailing child. Absolutely no harm had come to him, bringing some relief to his heart. "Besides bein' scared out of his mind, he's fine."

"Good, good. How're you holding up?"

"I'm exhausted." He brought the hammer across the face of a charging warg, halting the beast in its tracks.

"Me too."

"How many are left?"

"At least fifteen. I'm damned sure they sent out all o' their wargs and riders to hunt us down."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"Who, exactly, did Baylee kill t' warrant this much hatred?"

"Well, it was both of us, though she dealt the death blow…and it was the queen." He yelped as another warg raced for him and he raised his hammer, but it was not fast enough.

Nori cried out as the warg tackled his brother to the ground, a yowl of pain leaving Ori's mouth. Nori stabbed both his knives into the warg's hide and dragged them down the length of the creature's flank. Its guts spilled out onto the ground and onto Nori's boots, but he continued to slash and stab at it until it slumped over, dead. Grabbing the beast's neck, he hauled it off of Ori, fearing the worst.

"Oh thank Mahal!" he cried out as Ori sat up, coughing. He fell to his knees and hugged his brother tightly, biting his lower lip. "I thought it killed you."

"I'm tougher than I look," Ori weakly chuckled, patting his arm. "I'm sure it broke my arm, though. I can't use that hammer one-handed. It's too big."

Nori looked around. Not many wargs or their riders were left. "Come on then," he quietly told him. "Stay behind me. Take my knives; I'll use the hammer. Stay between me an' the tree, alright? I'll keep you both safe."

It was full daylight now and the battle over. Dwalin didn't know how he was still standing, but he was. His shoulders and chest heaved with the effort to breathe and his head was a ball of searing pain. In the midst of the battle, a warg had managed to claw his face. Ever since, he had been unable to see out of his right eye; he hoped it was something that could be cured.

He was able to see the sheer numbers of wargs and riders that had been slaughtered throughout the morning. All around him were the bodies of the slain, and yet he could see no sign of his friends. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted out and waited for any replies. A wave of relief washed over him as he heard Nori and Ori call from somewhere nearby. Bifur's voice came from somewhere in the far distance and a high-pitched bird call signaled Lovisa's position.

But then more calls filled the air. Frowning, he turned round only to see Rán and her rangers galloping towards the raider massacre, not a single one of them left uninjured. Three of their horses had been killed, leaving some of them having to ride two to a horse. He was just about to smile when a last call came.

"HELP!"

His head snapped to the west; that was Bofur's voice. As he started to run in his direction, Rán spurred her horse and bolted ahead of him.

"Where are you, Bofur?" she shouted.

"I don't know! I jus' need help! Please!" came his desperate voice.

"We are coming!" Unfamiliar hoof beats filled her ears and, risking a glance to her left, she saw a bloodied Lovisa, her quiver long empty and bow broken, riding just a few yards away. She winced; her whole body ached thanks to a hard fall from the middle of a tree. She was positive she had at least three fractured –if not broken- ribs, but she had to ignore the pain for now.

The two women reached the top of a small hill and brought their steeds to a halt. Bofur stood, frozen, at the bottom of the hill. Something akin to a cry of horror left Lovisa's mouth and she scrambled off of her horse, racing towards him. Rán, however, was rooted to her saddle, her skin having gone pale and her stomach starting to churn.

Surrounded by a ring of slain wargs and raiders were Will and Baylee, their hands clasped and the earth beneath them soaked in a pool of blood.