Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit
The beginning of the end is at hand for this story. My god it has been incredible. Please read and enjoy and as always feedback is welcomed.
'Forgive me.'
Marie stared up at the roof, counting the beating of her heart in tandem with the rise and fall of her chest. She didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night but lay still on the bed, hands folded together across the blanket. Her heart was ever so steady despite all that had transpired.
'Forgive me.'
Contrary to Gandalf's belief Marie was not tucked away in Dale somewhere like he had hoped. Once she had been fed and left to rest Marie snuck into the night and back to Erebor. She would not hide behind their skirts when Thranduil and Bard presented their ultimatum to Thorin, not after everything ...
She would answer for her actions. Slipping back into Erebor was simple enough, a quick change of place and a helping of magic and no one knew any different, the sounds of the dwarves moving about the other room were far away in her mind. Now she had both betrayed her comrades and abused Bard's hospitality by leaving without a word.
She could not rest easy and the food now soured in her belly.
'Forgive me.'
Like a mantra she whispered these words in her mind, imagining that if she repeted it enough times it would cleanse her of her guilt.
Time passed slowly in Erebor. Perhaps it was the stone, trapping time itself, preserving the city and its strange beauty.
Strange beauty.
Belladonna Took had once used that term herself a long time ago.
"Mammy!"
It was raining that day and little Marie wasn't doing well being coped up inside Bag End. Belladonna had made use of the time by baking raisin scones for Bungo's brother who was ill. She had quieted her daughter with a cup of hot milk but the little hobbit had been silent for long enough.
"Mammy?"
"Yes love?" Belladonna brushed the floor off her hands on her apron.
"Why is my name Mariellena?"
Her mother cocked an amused eyebrow, "What a funny question. What brought this up?"
"All the other girls have ..." Marie looked nervously into her cup "They have normal names. Mine is different."
Belladonna chuckled. True hobbit lasses had names referring to their well loved flowers, like Lilly, Rosie, Marigold and so forth. "Because my love you are different."
Little Marie glanced about her person. "I don't feel different."
"Oh but you are." Her mother sat next to her and patted her curls. "Ordinary names inspire ordinary folk. But different ..." Belladonna stroked her rosy cheek. "Different inspires curiosity, creativity, adventure."
"All with just my name Mammy?" Marie frowned."
"Names have power sweet one. One day you will understand the strange beauty of just being different."
Did Belladonna know just how different her daughter would be from all the rest? She who had spoken with the noble elves, faced down nightmarish beasts, made riddles with a dragon and overcame her fear of spiders in the most extreme way possible. Marie rolled onto her side and used an arm to prop up her head. She closed her eyes. In all her time on the road she barely thought to comprehend what she had accomplished. It was a marvel really, discounting the amount of peril she found herself in.
She pulled the blanket back to let herself out. The lack of noises around her indicated only one thing, that it was time. Her body moved of its own volition and she rose from the bed. It was hard to stop the slouch of her shoulders as she made her way to the gates where no doubt the dwarves were waiting for an attack that would not come. She eventually made it to the gates and the company was poised ready and waiting, stretched out along the barricade. They needn't know she was there with them ... not yet. Beyond the wall of stone Marie could hear a rhythmic beat of armoured bodies.
The elves were on the move.
As Marie turned to take the second lot of stairs her heart began to beat harder in her chest and seeing Thorin when she made it to the top cause her stomach to clench painfully. He was wearing a traditional dwarvish crown on his brow and is black fur cloak over his armour. The whole company was dressing in armour, some carrying it better than others. Poor Ori was practically drowning in his.
Without disturbing anyone Marie slipped in behind Bofur, who still wore his trademark hat. From over his shoulder Marie had a clear view of the massive army assembled bellow, mostly consisting of the elves and a hundred or so of the people of Lake Town.
The elves parted along the middle to let Thranduil and Bard pass on their mounts, but while Bard rode a horse the Elven King sat atop a large elk of sorts, its antlers spanning across a few feet more than Marie had ever seen on an animal.
But before Thranduil or Bard get closer an arrow was shot at the ground near the elk's hooves. Marie looked over at Thorin who had a bow in hand and was readying another arrow.
"I will put the next one between your eyes!" He barked out, which was followed by the dwarves shouting and rattling their weapons in proud response. Marie gulped and watched how Thranduil would respond to the threat. Without a signal or verbal command from him, the first five rows of elves all drew and aimed hundreds of their own arrows. That promptly stopped the dwarves who ducked behind the wall.
All but Thorin. Brave and stubborn as ever he kept aim.
After a tense few seconds Thranduil raised a hand and his forces stood down. "We have come to tell you that payment for your debt has been offered, and accepted." The elf said.
"I gave you nothing. You have nothing." Thorin countered.
Thranduil just looked to Bard and nodded. Marie sucked in a breath as Bard reached into his jacket. There was a steady sting of gasps along the wall as Bard raised his hand, the light of the Arkenstone pouring out between his fingers. "We have this."
Bofur turned to Nori at his side. "But how?" He muttered, unaware of the hobbit behind them shrinking ever so slightly. She monitored Thorin's reaction but the dwarf did not speak, only lowered his bow with his eyes fixed on the jewel.
"How came you by the heirloom of our house?!" Fili called out from Thorin's side. "That stone belongs to the King."
"The King may have it with our good will. But first, he must honour his word."
Kili, who stood at Thorin other side, glanced down at his shoulder with pained realisation. He caught sight Marie. His eyes were full of that same sad regret from before, only the knowledge that she gone through with it made it worse on both their parts. Kili's attention was pulled away from Marie as Thorin tilted his head to the side. "They are taking us for fools." He muttered to his kin, "This is a ruse. A filthy lie."
Marie was unsure if Thorin legitimately did not believe it was the real Arkenstone of was in complete denial. Either way it was complicating negotiations. "The Arkenstone is in this mountain!" He roared at Thranduil and Bard. "It is nothing but a trick!"
"It's no trick."
No more hiding now.
"The stone is real. I gave it to them."
Marie refused to look anywhere but at Thorin for if she glanced at any of the others she may have cracked. Thorin was slow to face her, agonisingly so, the bow in his hand slipped down as his hand grew slack. "You ... You would steal from me?" His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
"It was not a decision I made lightly." Marie said. "I am willing to let the stone stand against my claim."
"Against your claim? Your claim ..." Thorin threw his bow to the ground with such force it split in two. "You have no claim over me you miserable wretch!"
Marie flinched and stepped back, but her gaze did not falter. "I wanted to give it to you. Many times I almost did, but ..."
"But what, Thief?"
"I promised to return the Arkenstone to Thorin Oakenshield, not to the dwarf now before me." A surge of bravery filled Marie, and suddenly there was only her and Thorin. No one else, not the elves below and their King, not Bard and his people, not the dwarves whose gazes bounced between the two. "You are changed. The Thorin I met back in Bag End would have never gone back on his word, or would have doubt the loyalty of his kin for an instance."
"Do not ... " He snarled like a wounded dog, "Speak to me ... of loyalty." His eyes were narrowed and Marie was shocked to see a thin build up of tears refusing to fall. The look of pure heartbreak. "Throw her from the rampart!"
Her bravado ran thin and she waited for the inevitable. But nothing came, no hands around her arms or push towards the wall. Marie looked around. None of the dwarves moved. When they didn't respond? Thorin yanked at Fili, "Did you not hear me!?" But his nephew pulled away, refusing his command one more. A hand touched Marie's shoulder and she immediately tensed up. It was Bofur, but his grip was one of reassurance.
"Then I will do it myself!"
The next few moments were a loud whirlwind of movement and noise to Marie. Hands seizing her and pulling in all sorts of direction, being dragged towards the edge, various cries and pleas. When her back hit the wall she heard Thorin's raspy voice screaming over her as she was hoisted up higher. With one more good push she would have gone over."Curse you! Curse be the wizard that force you upon this company!" Something fell on Marie's cheek, something wet that rolled across her cold face.
"If you don't like my burglar then please, don't damage her! Return her to me."
'Damn it Gandalf.'
Why must his timing be so last minute? Marie opened her eyes. The dwarf's face was twisted with anger, lips pulled back to show his gritted teeth. Slowly his expression fall into vagueness as he came to realise what he was doing and his gazed turned to the wizard somewhere below.
"You're not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, Thorin Son of Thrain." Gandalf went on to say. The death grip around Marie's coat and the hobbit slipped back and fell at Thorin's feet. Kili and Balin pulled her away from his should his wrath once again turned to her and helped her stand, with Balin taking her hand. Kili went before them to the edge of the wall where he knew she could escape. "Go Marie. Go." Balin whispered and let her go as Kili tossed the rope over the edge. Marie mouthed a thank you as they passed and she climbed over the wall.
"Never again will I have dealings with wizards or Shire rats!"
Thorin's cruel words cut deep. The rope was icy and burned as she scaled down the wall, her chest tight pain as she tried not to slip. She landed on the broken head of the statue used to shatter the causeway and forced herself to stop for a moment and suck in the crisp air. It may have been minutes since she last took a decent breathe.
"Are we resolved then?" Bard's concerned voiced filled the air, "The return of the Arkenstone for what was promise?"
Marie carefully hopped across the debry. A loud cawing made her stop and look up to see a large crow flying towards the gate. Her name was called by the waiting wizard who ushered her into the safety of his robes once she crossed.
"Give us your answer! Will you have peace or war!?"
Nothing came from above. Marie dared a glance up and saw Thorin hunched over with his hands practically clawing the stone as he stared at the crow perched on the ledge.
'I know that bird ...'
By the time Marie could remember why it was too late. From over the western horizon a noise like a drum rolled over the hill.
It was army of dwarves.
"Iron Foot." Gandalf said and changed his grip on his staff. The elves immediately went into action and Thranduil ordered a new formation in their ranks. Gandalf was on the move too. "Keep close Marie." He adjusted his robes so that he could move quicker and Marie running to keep up and to avoid being trampled on by a hundred elves.
"Gandalf who are they? And ... who's that?" She panted. At the forefront of the new army there was a single rider holding a war hammer up in the air.
"That is Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills. He is Thorin's cousin."
"His cousin?"
"Yes. Thorin most likely sent word of the mountain's recapture to him and now the Iron Foot clan is flocking to his call." Gandalf explained.
"Is he going to be a problem?"
"Of the two, I personally have found Thorin the more reasonable."
That couldn't be good for anyone.
Though the dwarves were still less in numbers Marie knew who they fought knew how well they could fight as a unit as she had seen thirteen could take on three trolls. The dwarves come to a halt at the base of the hill while the elves and men braced themselves. Marie found herself surrounded by the people of Lake Town with Gandalf.
"Good Morning. How are we all?" The armoured boar Dain was riding snorted loudly at the dwarf's somewhat pleasant greeting. His voice was gravely and he had the similar accent to Dwalin and Balin. "I have a wee proposition for you, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time."
Marie raised an eyebrow.
"Would ya consider ... JUST SODDING OFF! All of you right now!"
'Ah, that's what Gandalf meant.'
The dwarf lord's threat made only the men of Lake Town step back in alarm with Bard calming for them to stand their ground. Gandalf waved Marie away from him, a sign for her to stay back as he entered the tense space between the two opposing forces.
"Come now Lord Dain!"
"Gandalf the Grey." He did not sound pleased to see the wizard. "Tell this rabble to leave or I'll water the ground with their blood."
Just as charming as Thorin it would seem with the diplomacy.
"There is no need for war between elves, men and dwarves. A legion of orcs on the move, stand your army down."
"I will not stand down before any elf. Not lest this faithless woodlen sprite." Dain gestured his hammer at Thranduil. "He wishes nothing but ill will upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!"
Marie grimiced. It didn't help that the company cheered from the wall and Thranduil was actually smirking at the threat.
"He's clearly mad, like his cousin." The elf said. As he did the ground started to tremble. Marie looked down at her feet as it slowly intensified and only she was noticing. "Ugh ... Gandalf?"
Dain kicked his boar's side and called to his men, "Ya hear that lads? We're on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!"
The dwarves started to beat their shields and chanting in their native tongue and the elves pointed their own spears from behind gilded shields, archers poised with itchy fingers. Marie stumbled out of the crowd and went to the wizard.
"Gandalf."
"Not now Marie, I am a bit preoccupied." The wizard was thoroughly exacerbated and was twisting every which way. But Marie persisted.
"Gandalf! The ground." She yanked on his sleeve. Gandalf opened his mouth to speak but he began to feel it too. He twisted his staff into the dirt. The shaking grew worse until all began to notice it. A great crunching sound silenced the two armies and it was like the earth was groaning in pain.
"It's not possible. How did Azog acquire them unless ..."
"What? What is it ... oh my." Marie
It was like several explosions had gone off, chunks of rock and dirt flying through the air. Large heads with nothing but teeth and tusk emerges from the mess and cracked boulders in mouths with a sharp twist. Shrieking and wailing
"Were-Worms." Gandalf gasped.
"If those are worms, I'm an empress." Marie knew it was poor form to be making such remarks but in the face the unbelievable it was all she could do. A sharp brass of a horn cut the winds, sending a shiver of fear down Marie's spine as she whipped around to find the source of the noise. The Were-Worms retreated back into the giant holes and another fanfare echoed out, accompanied by a slow but steady beat of a war drum.
Azog the Defiler had launched his first attack.