Chapter 28


After that night with her father, Frellian had been distancing herself from the others. She had meant to leave once Canwrîf and the pack would arrive. They had been the closest to her when she had called out for them. Her howls had carried over the wind for any ferian within reach to hear. And to her luck it had been Canwrîf. Why he was this far away from home, she did not know, but she was glad he was.

But as she stood at the top of the blocked gates, she silently hoped the ferian was not too close by. Not with an army of elves standing in front of them and an angry dwarf king who came back on his words. Which meant there were also angry fishermen at the ruins of Dale, except for Bard, who stood before the gates of Erebor too. In his hand the kings jewel, the Arkenstone.

She feared a war would be unavoidable if there was to come back up of any sorts. Whether it be dwarf or ferian. That was the reason why Thorin had taken them to the armory, fitting armour and sharpening blades and axes. Even Frêllian was given dwarvish armour, which Dwalin had protested against of course. Yet Thorin had shouted out in anger that she was capable of fighting, so she should fight with them.

So now the ferian just stood by and watched Thorin as he claimed the stone Bard held in his hand to be false, a trick. Which she could honestly understand. How could the man hold the real stone, if he had never been here before? Had his ancestor taken it sometime after Smaug had fallen into a deep slumber? But how could that be possible? A dragon such as Smaug would have noticed any intruder stealing from him. He was even able to notice Bilbo!

So how did they come by the dwarven heirloom indeed?

'The stone is real. I gave it to them,' a voice from behind her spoke and Frêllian gasped in surprise. She heard the tremble in his voice, yet he stepped forth bravely. How far her little rabbit had come, the foolish, yet brave hobbit!

'You! You dared steal from me?'

Bilbo stammered at the sight of the mad king as Thorin glared at the small hobbit. His blue eyes filled with rage and betrayal. His hands shaking as he clenched them.

'Steal from you? No, no! I may be a burglar, but I'd like to believe I am an honest one. I'm willing to let it stand against my claim.'

The poor hobbit tried to reason with Thorin in vain. For instead of trying to get Thorin to agree with the terms, the dwarf king shouted out in anger. Stating Bilbo had no claim. But even as the angered dwarf stalked towards Bilbo, the hobbit stood his ground. Saying what had been on his mind for a long time. But unfortunately no words would reach Thorin as he shouted out to the others to throw Bilbo over the rampart.

'No, don't!'

Frêllian stretched out her hand to protect Bilbo, but no one complied to the king's wishes.

'Do you hear me,' Thorin shouted as he roughly grabbed Fíli by the arm. But the younger dwarf shook him off. 'I will do it myself then!'

With that, he lunged himself at Bilbo. Not even caring that the ferian stood in his way as she tried her best to keep Thorin away from Bilbo. He cursed out loud as he pushed Frêllian out of the way and held onto Bilbo. Struggling to drag him towards the rampart.

'No!'

This time it was Fíli. He still held onto Frêllian, having caught her before she had hit the ground. He had accepted the fact that his uncle had indeed succumb to the sickness and could do nothing about it. But as Thorin tried to push Bilbo over the rampart, the two of them sprung into action, along with others. To try and prevent Thorin from succeeding.

'Curse the wizard that forced you on this company,' the enraged Thorin shouted as he held Bilbos torso over the rock.

'Thorin, please,' Frêllian begged as she pulled his arm in vain. 'Just-just let him go.'

Suddenly Gandalf appeared next to Thranduil and Bard. His voice booming through the air as he spoke, amplified by magic.

'If you do not like my burglar,' the wizard started before lowering his voice as he came to a stop. 'Then please don't damage him. Return him to me!'

Surprised by the sudden appearance of Gandalf, Thorin's grasp lessened, allowing Fíli and Dwalin to pull the hobbit away from the rampart.

'Never again will I have dealings with wizards,' the angered king under the mountain shouted as he watched the grey wizard, 'or Shire-rats!'

He was so fixated on Gandalf now, that Thorin failed to notice Fíli and Frêllian had helped Bilbo towards a rope, before the hobbit climbed down.

Now that her dear friend stood with the wizard, she felt a lot more comfortable. At least Gandalf would keep him safe. From where she stood, she could hear Thranduil suggest Bard to sell the Arkenstone to Ecthelion of Gondor, whom would probably pay a good price for it. But Thorin heard as well as he shouted he would kill them.

'By my oath,' the furious dwarf king shouted as he paced back and forth. A look of dispair in his eyes as he continued looking to the west and back.. 'I will kill you all!'

'Your oath means nothing,' Thranduil scowled with a glare, before turning his attention towards his elven army. 'I have heard enough.'

The elves took their position, their movement as one and Frêllian feared for what Thorin had brought upon them. With one last glance at the sea of gold and silver, she turned to the king. Dispair in her voice as she begged for him to listen.

'Thorin,' she began as she walked up to him. 'Please, we cannot win this fight. We are but a handful against an elvish army. You will send us to certain death.'

'No! We have to fight. Fight for what us rightfully ours. They cannot take this from me. I will not let them!'

'And they won't,' she continued, her voice as gentle as she would use when speaking to a child. 'Accept their trade. Let them have Bilbo's part of the share.'

'That Shire rat has no part of the share!'

At the sudden outburst, Frêllian stepped back, while an arm stretched out in front of her protectively. Turning Thorin's furious gaze towards his nephew.

'Frêllian is right though, uncle,' Fíli said without hesitation. His hand still outstretched as he moved closer to her. 'We cannot win this.'

'If your maiden fair wants a trade, then let her use her own part of the share,' grumbled Thorin darkly as his dark blue eyes shifted from Fíli to Frêllian and back to Fíli again. 'But they will never have that what belongs to us dwarves!'

'My share? But I don't have a claim on the treasure.'

Her voice was just a surprised whisper as she stared at the dwarf in surprise. And she really was surprised. While Fíli had hinted that she would indeed had her own share of the treasure. But never before had Thorin stated such a thing, nor had he ever given her a contract to sign. But if Thorin was indeed suggesting she had a share of the gold inside the mountain, she would gladly give it to the men of Lake Town. For she wouldn't even know what to do with all that gold. She had no need of it.

But before she could reply, a voice from down below them called.

'Give us your answer,' Bard demanded as he glared at Thorin. 'Will you have peace, or war?'

Right then a raven flew up to Thorin, cawing at the dwarf, before nodding its head slightly. Which could only mean one thing. Frêllian might not have the skill to understand the black birds, she did know dwarves could communicate with them. And she had seen the dwarf king communicate with the black raven the day before. No doubt he used it to send for help. And the look on Thorin's face as the bird cawed, could only mean one thing.

'I will have war.'

And just as the words have left his mouth, figures appeared at the horizon. Dwarves, Frêllian realised. Dwarves dressed for war! Dwarves by foot, dwarves mounting a battle pig, dwarves atop battle goats. The whole horizon was black with Iron Hills dwarves. The leader being Dain, Thorin's cousin.

'This is no good,' she whispered softly to Fíli. 'They are about to start a war that could have been prevented. Can you not talk some sense into your uncle?'

But he shook his head. Telling her his uncle was too far gone right now. Begrudgingly admitting he might even be lost to the sickness forever. She nodded, silently agreeing as the leader of the dwarves started mocking Thranduil. But before the elven king could say anything, the ground started to tremble and wereworms broke through the rocks in the distance.

Within a blink of an eye a fight had erupted between orcs and drawers and elves.

'I'm going over the wall,' Fíli announced. 'Who's coming with me?'

Shocked to see the massive worms crawl out of the rocky soils of the distant mountains, Frêllian looked at the dwarf prince next to her. This must be Azog, it had to be!

'I'm going to help,' she stated as Fíli waited for the others.

But before Frêllian could even begin climbing down, she heard Thorin shout for them to stand down. He would not even listen to his nephews as they started to argue.

'You heard the king,' Dwalin said gruffly as he faced Frêllian from his spot. 'We are not to engage in the fight.'

'He might be the king under the mountain,' Frêllian says crossly while not moving away from her spot. 'But you forget I am not just a dwarf, nor just a ferian. I am a queen! And he cannot order me!'

With that said, she turned to face Fíli. Mustering up all her courage, she slightly stood on her toes to press her lips against his. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but as she pulls back, she decided otherwise. She could not do that, for she wasn't certain whether of not she would survive. And she'd rather remember his surprised look he was giving her right now, than risk the chance of dealing with his rejection. So instead she just smiled at the shocked dwarf, before climbing down the wall.

Voices called out for her to return. Both in anger and fright, but she did not let let stop her. She could hear Fíli shout after her in surprise, while her father sounded furious. But the loudest of all, was Thorin as he shouted after her in pure rage. But she ignored him. She didn't care about being called a traitor, or a mutt. She'd rather be all the names he was calling her, than to sit back at let others fight their fight. No, she wouldn't be a coward! Never again! This time, she would face her enemies head on and take down as many of those bastard down as she could!

By the time she reached the battle line, the fight had already begun. Elves and men and dwarves fought side by side to fight off the orcs. Shouts of pain surrounded her and it frightened her a bit. This wasn't like anything she had ever experienced before.

With the orcs it was different. Orcs killing orcs. Ferien killing orcs. Orcs killing ferien.

But this, this was not a simple fight. This was war! This was fighting till the end, no matter the outcome. And this time she was participating! This time she could actually die!

Suddenly an orc stood in front of her and she reacted out of instinct. With a quick blow from her sword, its ugly head fell to the ground with a soft thud, followed by its body. Then she lifted her sword to block the attack of another orc, before kicking it down to the ground. She piercing its skull with her blade, before moving on.

As she fought her way over the battlefield, she silently thanks Lüna for the lessons her father had given her throughout their journey. A year before, she would have never lasted this long in a fight. Not without transforming into her wolf form.

'Ah, so you're the little ferian that had been traveling with my cousin, eh?'

Upon hearing the rough voice, Frêllian turned her head to see an auburn haired dwarf moving over to her. His battle hammer swinging around as he took down an enemy. The boar tusks he had braided into his beard swinging along as he sauntered towards her with a posture equally proud as Thorin.

'You're quite easy to spot with that silver hair of yours, lass.'

'You must be Dain, I take it?' The dwarf nodded. 'There is only one white warg and she is mine to kill! Be sure to remember that if you are to face her.'

'Oh, you're feisty,' he mused. 'I like that. You'll do just fine lassie. You'll do just fine. Especially if you're anything like yer father.'

He swung his battle hammer again as a ferian made his way over to the pair, while Frêllian moved out of the way just in time when the giant wolf jumped down.

'Speaking of which, where is your backup? Where's Thorin?'

She slashed at another ferian, her back now turned towards Dain as she answered him. She told him about the said dwarf's condition and how he had refused to fight. Instead he remained holed up inside of Erebor, surrounded by his precious gold. The weight of his longing and greed for the treasure heavy on his heart, that she had seen. But his mind not strong enough to fight it.

'We are on our own then,' Dain mutters sadly.

'No we are not. My people should arrive soon. The good ones, not the traitors.'

And with that said, she continues to fight off their enemies. Hoping that she was indeed right about Canwrîf arriving soon, before it was too late.


With a groan, Frêllian tried pushing the warg off of her. A feat more difficult than it should have been. She was getting tired from fighting off orcs wargs and ferien. She was never trained for this, especially not in this form. And even with the training Dwalin has given her, she could feel her body tremble. She was tired, she was in pain, she was bleeding. Yet there seemed to be no end to this fight. Though luckily Thorin had joined the fight after all. And not a moment to soon. With their enemies closing in on them from different fronts, they were pushed back to the mountain. Dwarves and elves and men were being slaughtered all around Frêllian, she herself barely standing her ground, before a thunderous sound had come from the front gate of Erebor. The barrier had been broken by the dwarves and the small party valiantly made their entrance, lead by a sane - yet angered - Thorin as he shouted in Khuzdul for his people to follow him. And with their king now at their side, the dwarves had found back their strenght to continue the fight.

She pushed yet again, wheezing as the giant wolf disabled her to breathe properly with her dead weight. She needed to move, she needed to get herself from underneath the dead creature, or else she would follow after! She mentally encouraged herself to keep on pushing the warg off, but her arms lacked the strength from all the fighting. Her legs remained trapped underneath the dead weight.

She was trapped, she then realized in horror! It was no longer a simple observation, but a panicked thought. Was this how she was going die? Trapped underneath a warg, waiting for someone to finish her off?

She heard someone approach her and panic swept over her. Frantically she tried to drag herself from underneath the large creature. Perhaps if she couldn't push it off, she could crawl from underneath it. But her struggle was in vain. She was too exhausted. And too panicked. She tried to calm down her breath as the footsteps stopped next to her. She would not cower before her enemy. Breathing rapidly like a scared little rabbit. No, if she was to die, she would face it bravely! She heard loud breathing as they panted. Probably just as tired from the fight as she was. Good, then perhaps she could scare them off with a low growl, like an animal pushed into a corner.

'Frey!'

Recognizing the voice, she tried craned her head to her left. But the head of the white warg atop of her blocked her view. That was, until the beast was pushed off of her and she could finally breathe properly again. She inhaled deeply, grateful for the oxygen filling her lungs properly again. Then she stood up with the help of an extended hand, before she took a look at her rescuer.

'Thank Mahal, I found you!'

With that, the dwarf pulled her in his arms, holding her tightly. His voice a welcoming sound after all the growling, snarling and clanging of metal.

'I did it, Fíli,' she told him as he released her from his embrace. Her voice trembling as she spoke. 'I did it.'

'You are not yourself.'

No she was not, she was frightened. But as his rough hand caressed her cheek, she suddenly felt ashamed to admit she was scared. Instead she told him she was just tired. That she wasn't used to fighting like this. But no matter how tired she was and how scared, she was still able to fight Matriarch! She stood her ground against the white warg and she had won!

She looked the dead warg on the ground. The warg that had killed her mother. She had finally avenged her, she had avenged Càna! Matriarch was no more. Even if it had been difficult, even if one wrong move could have turned the tables around, she did it!

'We have to go,' Fíli said as he placed his hand on her cheek, making her look at him again. 'Thorin plans to finish Azog.'

He quickly grabbed hold of her arm as she processed what the dwarf prince had just said. Thorin wants to finish Azog? What was Fíli talking about? How did the dwarf plan on doing such a thing, while the filth was not here where the battle was.

But instead of voicing her thoughts, she let herself be being dragged away to where Thorin was with Dain. The King under the mountain sat atop a battle goat Dain had brought along with his army, while a war chariot of some sort stood next to him.

'Thorin,' she heard Dain say as they moved closer. 'You cannot do this. You're our king.'

'That is why I must do this,' the tall dwarf disagreed.

'I found her,' Fíli then shouted, ending their discussion. 'I found Frêllian!'

He helped her onto the chariot, where she was met with a shaking Dwalin as he pulled her to him. His hand brushing her hair in comfort, though she had a feeling it was partly to comfort himself.

'After this is over, I'm going to kill you myself for that little stunt you just pulled,' he grumbled in anger, before Thorin shouted for them to get on moving.

'It's been a while since I done this,' Balin stated as he held the reigns. 'Hold tight lads!'

The six battle goats that pulled the chariot, sprung into action as Thorin lead the way. With Kíli, Fíli, Balin, Dwalin and Frêllian following after him in the chariot. The blades attached to the wheels almost sliced the redheaded dwarf warrior, had Dain not moved out of the way in the nick of time.

'You're all mad bastards,' she heard the dwarf yell after them. 'I like it! May Durin save you all.'

As Balin held the reigns, Kíli and Dwalin took down oncoming foes with arrows - with the latter using an advanced type of bow that rapidly shot arrow after arrow. Frêllian and Fíli took down any that got within arms reach with their blades. Warg, orc, ferian. No matter what attacked them, they took them down. Though with all the moving of the chariot, The ferian had trouble keeping herself standing. Never having stood on one before, she felt herself struggling to not fall off.

'Hold on tight, Frêllian,' Dwalin shouted as he quickly reached out a hand to grab her shoulder. 'Save your strength.'

'But hêu-'

'Do not argue with me now, young lady! Do as I say, or Durin help me, I will tie you down!'

Shocked by the authority his voice held, she shut her mouth closed and took a step closer to where he stood. Holding onto the wooden frame while doing so.

'Watch out!'

Luckily she was already holding onto the chariot, or else she would have fallen off, as Balin jerked the reigns to the right. They made a sharp turn, before slipping towards the frozen river. Wargs were in pursuit and Kíli immediately fired more arrows at them. And Fíli had traded his short for an bow and arrow as well, much to her surprise.

Not that Frêllian could afford being surprised. She should be grateful instead, to know the young warrior appeared to be at least as skilled a marksman as his brother. Each and every arrow hitting its target as Balin steered the chariot over the slippery ice.

'Shoot it! Shoot the damn thing!'

'What'd you think I'm doing, Frey! Throwing flowers at it?'

'Perhaps I should be throwing you at it then,' grumbled the ferian at the younger dwarf with a glare. 'That might take it down.'

'And since when does our dear ferian queen lower herself to such cowardly deeds,' Kíli retorted smugly as he shot yet another arrow. 'I thought you were against long distance weapons.'

'You're hardly a weapon, drêgasen!'

The chariot made a sudden turn to the left, as a warg lunged at Fíli. Though her uncle had seen it coming and moved the chariot, so the blades at the wheel sliced right through the beast.

'Would the two of ya quit yer yapping and instead concentrate on the task ahead!' Dwalin had now turned his complex motorised bow towards the chasing wards behind them. 'Shoot it in the jambags, Kíli!

'It doesn't have any jambags!'

Suddenly another cave troll crashed onto the ice, smacking the one pursuing them against the stones. It took the lot of them a moment to realise Bofur was on top of the new troll, controlling it with reigns. A loud cheer erupted from the chariot as they watched their fellow dwarf take down the troll, enabled them to continue their way to Ravenhill.

'There's more of those bastards coming,' Frêllian shouted as she looked over her shoulder.

'Never mind those chasing us,' her uncle replied darkly. 'I'm more worried about that cave troll ahead!'

And right he was. Breaking the ice in front of them, was another cave troll holding a ladder of some sort. It's lower body was under water as it walked through the frozen river, breaking the ice with each step it took. Arrow after arrow was released as Dwaling and the two princes shot at the troll, until it fell down. With a sudden jerk, the chariot was pulled over the back of the troll, before slipping on ice again.

Suddenly a warg appeared from around the corner in front of them and before any of them could react, it ripped one of the goats away from its straps. And another took a second goat and a third, so there were only three goats pulling the heavy load now. Something that did not go unnoticed, for without the two leading goats, they were slowing down tremendously. And wargs and ferien were gaining in on them.

'We are pulling too much weight,' Dwalin stated as he turned to face his older brother. 'We'll never make it.'

The white-haired dwarf had noticed their grief predicament as well. His eyes somber as he looked at the remaining goats. They did their best to pull their weight, but the chariot was indeed slowing down. And the old dwarf could only come to one conclusion. So with determination in his eyes, he looked at his younger brother.

'Cut the tracers,' Balin said, making both his brother and niece look at him in shock. He surely could not mean that, right? 'Ride them to Ravenhill.'

'Uncle, no.'

'No Balin.'

While it wasn't unusual for Frêllian to speak softly, it was uncharacteristic for Dwalin to use such a brittle tone. Yet the thought of leaving his brother behind, knowing he would face certain death fell heavy in the warrior's heart. But Balin was not bothered by this fate. For he told them his orc fighting days were over. His voice matching that of Dwalin and Frêllian as he looked at them with watery eyes.

'Durin be with you, brother,' Balin said as Dwalin held onto his arm. 'And may Lüna smile upon you always, my dear niece.'

Fíli was the first to jump on the metal pole, swinging his sword at an orc, before he could jump onto the back of a goat. But he did not cut the tracers yet. Instead he looked over his shoulder, at the dwarf he had to leave behind.

'What are you waiting for, lad,' Balin called for him. 'Cut the tracers!'

He did so, and Kíli and Dwalin followed after soon. Though Kíli was the only on to guide his goat towards Ravenhill immediately. Dwalin called for Frêllian as the chariot slowly slowed down to an halt. And Fíli had halted his goat next to Frêllian as the chariot now stood still. His hand extended for her to grab, wanting her to get behind him. But the ferian refused.

'You two go,' she said as she shifted. Her voice now holding a low feral grow as she continued. 'I will follow after. Go, now!'

She snarled at them in anger when they did not listen. There were wargs coming closer and she could hear more coming from not too far away. Then she turned to Balin, hearing the hoves of the goats retreat. Her yellow eyes were now trained on her uncle as he shot arrow after arrow using the same equipment her father had used.

'As for you, you foolish old dwarf,' she sneered as she moved closer. 'I will not leave you here to die alone!'

'We will both die if you don't follow after the others, Frey,' the dwarf replied softly. 'I've had a good, long life. And I even got to see you again, even if it was just for a short amount of time.'

'Then let's make our time together longer and climb on, you stubborn old dwarf. They are almost upon us!'

Bewildered by her offer, Balin turned to look at her. But he had no time to react, for the ferian had grabbed his tunic between her teeth and began running as fast as she could. While she was running over the ice, she moved her head to allow Balin to climb on her back. The sudden weight she felt was a foreign feeling to her, but that did not stop her. Though she did let out an annoyed growl as her uncle pulled out her fur in an attempt to hold onto the moving ferian. But she ignored the pain, she ignored the strained feeling she felt on her back and she ignored her pride to even have someone on her back.

Instead the ferian ran as fast as she could, quickly gaining in on the others as they made their way to Ravenhill.

'Frey!'

'Balin!'

To say the dwarves were surprised to see Balin, was an understatement. But they were thrilled the old warrior was still with them. Cheering his name in excitement as they continued. Following after Thorin, Frêllian jumped over rock and climbed walls to the best of her ability. Though at times she needed to take a detour, not being able to use the path the goats used. For they used steep paths, where the ferian did not have a good enough grip.

And then they at last reached the top. Just as they expected there were a handful of orcs awaiting them. So Frêllian wasted no time and went for the throat as she jumped onto one. It was then, then she felt the weight on her back being lifted as Balin jumped off. His sword in his hand as he swung it at and orc. In front of her was Thorin, the dwarf had dismounted his goat and was now fighting the orcs. And Dwalin was a little to her left, along with Kíli.

Then a sudden yell from above her, caught her attention as a goat jumped over her head. Fíli still on its back. Though he too, dismounted as soon as he beheaded the last remaining orc. Then he turned around to face the now back to normal Frêllian.

'I don't know what we will face up here,' Fíli said as he stopped in front of her. His voice serious as it dropped an octave. 'Be ready to fight, alright?'

'I will.'

'And stay close to me.' Even if it was more of a order, she could her the pleading within his voice. 'You have fought bravely already and I don't want to lose you.'

Suddenly she became painfully aware of their close proximity. One of his hands reached for her hand, while his other hand moved to her face. Using his thumb, he wiped away the black orc blood from her mouth. She had yet to cleam herself after she had changed back. Though after Fíli had removed the blood, the dwarf did not remove his hand. Instead he gently placed it on her cheek. His calloused hand cold to the touch against her burning red cheek.

For a moment she thought back to the farewell kiss she had given him. She hadn't expect to see him again, she had expected to die on the battlefield. Which would have happened if he hadn't saved her.

And now she felt embarrassed for even acting on pure instinct. She would not deny she had grown to love the dwarf over these passed months, but who was to say he would feel the same? And now she was going to fight side by side with him.

What if they both survived and he demanded an answer? What if he would never want to see her again after this? But then again, wasn't that what she had wanted in the first place? And why was she even worried about such a thing, while they had more pressing matters to attend to?

'Save your sappy, lovey dovey stuff for later, will ya!'

Her head snapped up upon hearing her father's voice coming from behind her.A hand reached for her arm, pulling her away from the dwarf prince and instead she was forcefully turned to face an angered bald dwarf.

'Next time I say come, you come,' Dwalin scowld at her with a glare on his face. 'You hear me? I'm not ready to lose you. Not again.'

And with that, he pulled her into a warm embrace. Her red cheeks covered by the fur of his cloak. His next words but a soft whisper as he put his hand on her head.

'Thank you for saving him.'

'I owe you an apology.'

Dwalin released her, though just a little, so she could turn towards Thorin. The dwarven king was standing before her, no longer a trace left of the madness she had seen in his eyes when she had left. Instead they now held warmth in them once again, a sincere pleading as he asked for her for forgiveness.

At first, she remained silent. Brushing Dwalin off as she made her way over to him. With a mixture of emotions she looked at the king. Betrayal, anger, sadness. But finally only one emotion gained the upper hand in her intern battle.

'I've always been told of the stubbornness of dwarves,' she began as she stood before him with crossed arms. 'And I've witnessed firsthand how stubborn you are. You've hated me from the start, blaming me for something my mother did - which wasn't even true to begin with! You've pushed me and pushed me, and pushed me again until I would snap.'

She stopped for a moment. Her glare slowly faltering as she looked up at him. Then she surprised Thorin as she suddenly pulled him towards her in a tight embrace.

'But you've also shown me kindness, trust and loyalty. You've protected me and believed in me. Even if it did take a while. It is I that should apologize, for I had stopped believing in you. I had feared the sickness had driven you mad beyond reason.'

After that, he wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her tightly. Jokingly telling her that they were even then, before pulling away. But he did not release her yet. His hands firmly holding her shoulders as he spoke.

'Will you help me win this war then?'

'Do you even have to ask?'

He smiled at her, before turning to the others. One hand still on her shoulder as he spoke proudly.

'Then let every creature alive know the king of dwarves and the queen of ferien have joined forces. Together, we will not fail!'

Frêllian smiled at him, glad to see him like this again. To see the one true king having conquered the dragon sickness. But it soon faltered as Frellian picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. With a nudge with her head, she warned the others as she prepared to enter a fight once again.