The war upon our land transpired exactly as I had anticipated, and our people soon became locked in a deadly conflict to maintain our home and purge it from the filth that had plagued it for far too long. I lead as a commander, my presence an influence of pride and strength as I charged directly into the thickest heat of battle and did not rest until my sword and bow had felled a hundred of our enemy. Were it not for my visions, then a great number of our kin would have been slain in the long battle that commenced, however with our strategy in mind, our aim was to push all factions of the enemy army together towards the Lonely Mountain, where we would crush them once and for all. It took several days of great deal of effort and fortitude as the orc army laid waste to our homeland with fire and blood, but I refused to give in and as I fought by my father's side, I found myself rallying to our cause of protecting our precious home and safeguarding it against invasion from evil filth that had no place in this world. My silver armour and midnight blue cloak flashed as the dancing flames caught upon the sparkling helm, Gilestel seeking out the enemy and cutting them down where they stood as I lead my people closer and closer to achieving our goal until the enemy flanks were crippled and they were forced to flee rather than join the other ranks that had marched south to Lothlorien. I trusted that Haldir would prove more than a match for such a rambling gathering of spineless blights, and knew that Lady Galadriel would never allow the purity of Lothlorien to ever be tainted by the presence of orc filth.
Thus I could continue on with confidence, using everything at my disposal in order to press onward to our goal whilst calling out to the Valar, asking for their strength to fill me to the core so that I might destroy the enemy where they stood. I had been given life for a reason, and these gifts I had used for the betterment of all races, but I could not understand why. In the grand scheme of things, my role felt entirely small and insignificant, if not but to save a handful of lives that in all honesty may not have made any difference to the outcome of this war. It confused me sometimes, and often I wished that they would tell me why I was brought into the world, born to a mortal mother with no father, a half-Elf with the power to discern the future.
Never had they answered, so I did not expect one ever to come to me, least of all now. My sword clashed against a bloodied weapon, the jarring sound causing my ears to throb before I smote my opponent where they stood and continued forwards with unhindered strides, calling to my people as I did so in order to rally them to me. My father was a short distance away from me, a powerful hurricane of motion and deadliness that destroyed all that approached him whilst our archers rained arrows from above, not a single arrow missing their target as I led the vanguard onwards to the battle that would decide the fate of the entire northern frontier. Thousands upon thousands of orcs, easterlings and heinous creatures from the darkest cesspits of this world gathered upon the field before Erebor, where six decades ago I had fought before in the Battle of the Five Armies. Now the numbers were vastly increased, and the enemy had no lack of bodies to bolster their defences, but now they were surrounded and had no means of escape. The sudden arrival of Elves took them by surprise as we descended over the hills and met them in battle, pushing from the rear whilst the Dwarves and Men of Dale continued their assault upon the front, gradually pressing inwards until everything was a mass of flailing limbs and crushing bodies. Eventually I became lost among the throng, swept away in the tide of battle even as my father called out to me, Thranduil losing sight of me amongst the endless rivers of friend and foe.
I could barely move any part of me, tightly pressed together against both my kin and the enemy. When I came face to face with the large dark eyes of an eastern Man, for a moment neither of us moved as our eyes locked together and acknowledged one another's presence. Then he flung himself at me with a fearsome bellow, drawing a dagger from the belt at his waist in order to strike at me but the weapon glanced off the mithril links that wrapped around my arm as I lifted it to block the attack, my armour protecting me from injury before I killed that stranger with a single blow. Hot blood spurted from the wound at his neck, splattering my face and neck with the sticky substance that I could not erase from my mind. It was a suffocating battle, and soon enough I could hardly breathe from the closeness of the air which carried an overpowering scent of blood, gore and filth that caused my head to spiral uncontrollably. I felt trapped. Alone. I could see no friend or kin, just an endless sea of enemy faces who bared their teeth and branded their metal at me in an attempt to sever my soul from this body. Several times I retched and vomited from the smell as it also filled my mouth, clumsily stumbling whilst continuing to fight as I somehow managed to maintain an awareness of danger as it approached me. Centuries of honing this skill proved to be my saviour, and my reflexes allowed me to defend myself from any attack that came upon me as I attempted to find my way out into the open whilst the agonising cacophony of noise overwhelmed my senses.
My pulse raced and my blood boiled within my veins as I fought for life and freedom, a creeping terror beginning to rise through me as I became increasingly trapped, surrounded on all sides by the enemy who picked me as a prime target, eager to destroy my existence. "Dear Valar, show me the way I should go. I know not your purpose for me, but if there is a task that I must do, then I cannot accomplish it alone. Show me the way, I beg of you. I am lost and cannot be found…show me…show me…show me!" Crying out unto the heavens my voice rose in a lilting song of its own accord as a brightness shone from a distant part of my inner self that I had not known I carried. It felt like the presence of the stars, bright and clean and so pure that the surrounding battle seemed to simply fade away into nothingness as I gleamed. It filled me from my core all the way past the boundary of my physical body, shining outward like a beacon as I felt all fear drain itself from me. This power that awoke caused the very fabric of my being to vibrate and collide without diminishing and the sheer force of light and power I radiated drove my enemies back in a vibrant outburst as I finally drew breath.
Gilestel rattled in my hand as I gripped upon the hilt and held my blade before me, feeling the power of the Valar channel itself through me as the weeping clouds were torn asunder, opening the way to the heavens which began to fill with an abundance of stars unlike ever seen before. They danced and flew like rushing streams, flickering in and out of life in the briefest of moments as I continued to shine and gleam, beginning to understand my purpose and presence in this world. I was born of the Valar, a gift to all races, a ray of hope amidst the deepest darkness that would otherwise overthrow this place. When my eyes opened, the pure expression of starlight caused them to burn with a brilliant hue of white as my hair took on the shade of pure moonlight, everything around me purified by my presence.
The stars began to rain down from above as I breathed again, releasing the energy that the Valar had granted me and upon my instinctive direction, the blazing orbs of fire which fell from the heavens crashed upon our enemy and destroyed them where they stood. The white flames danced and writhed, the sky seemingly falling apart and descending upon us all as I felt the attack cross the entire battlefield and begin to shatter the ranks of our enemy, and upon seeing the scattering foe, our own forces rallied once more. I dove into the fray with a blinding whirl, still gleaming with the blessing of the Valar that had been bestowed upon me as I returned to my duty and fought to the last in order to lay waste to the forces of Sauron. Within the fray I soon began to see the faces of my beloved friends, calling to Fili and Kili as I recognised their helms near the centre of the fighting. The light that had encompassed my body had greatly dimmed, but remained visible enough to distinguish me from my kin as I raced to the brothers and, upon flinging out my hand, caught an arrow before it could pierce through Kili's heart. His charming grin blossomed into being as he looked at me, even winking as he laughed and used his heavily booted foot to kick an orc in the face after having thrown him to the ground. "Nice catch."
"Do not leave one another's side. You have always been stronger together." I warned them both but then turned in order to seek out Thorin. I had already witnessed his death in my visions, but if I could change his fate once, then I was adamant that I could do so again. I refused to accept that I was powerless in this, and as I tore through my enemy with a brutality and swiftness that I had not known I was capable of, I carved myself an opening so that I could stop and scan the armies in order to seek him out. He was here somewhere, Thorin would not allow his kin to fight for Erebor and not be part of the number himself. He was stubborn to the core and would have rejected my suggestion that he remain in safety behind the walls, which would be the cause of his end.
Already an endless number had fallen under blades and arrows, meaning that an untouched section of ground hardly remained as the stars continued to flash and fall above our heads, a thousand lights colliding with bursts of vibrant colour and brilliancy in a dazzling array of cosmic power and wonder. "Thorin!" My voice cried out to him, seeking him still but the snarl of a beast forced me to turn and face them, slaughtering them before the salivating jaws could pierce my throat. They fell under my sword however Gilestel was then knocked from my hand by a war hammer wrapped in barbed iron. It caused my arm and wrist to burst with pain as the bones cracked under the weight of the blow and I released an outburst of pain as my sword fell to the ground, lost under the confusion of bodies and blood as I staggered back and clutched my arm to my chest. The giant orc lifted its hammer high above its head, the filed teeth dripping with blood and gore as I quickly moved to roll out of the way. The heavy thud which followed was felt through me as the ground shifted under the blow, my body naturally continuing to evade the attacks until I could whirl myself around and lash out with my foot to collapse the knee of the orc, breaking the joint in order to cripple its stance before I was then able to rise back onto my feet and take an arrow from my quiver and drive it through its eye.
The orc died quivering and convulsing, my bow already in hand as I exchanged weapons and simply ignored the dull ache in my right hand from where it had been delivered a blow. I fired the owl feather arrows until all were spent, leaving me no choice but to seek out Gilestel and use whatever weapons were at my disposal, picking up those that had been discarded and wielding them with expert precision and no lacking of force. My heart and head, however, grew continuously distracted in my search for Thorin, fearing that perhaps he had already fallen. The scimitars that I had scavenged found themselves flying through the air and cleaving through two new enemies before I then spotted a glint of my sword upon the ground, the familiar handle calling to me where it lay. I dove for it immediately, the velvet mantle flaring as I moved in order to reach for my trusted sword which had seen me through many dangers and battles. It felt strange to not carry it with me, and I knew I could rely on it to never blunt or break. My fingers brushed against the cool hilt, almost reaching it as I pushed through the bodies of the fallen that trapped it. I reached further until my palm felt the indentations of the hilt which had become memorised into my skin, allowing me to pull it free and immediately turn to slice it outwards in a powerful arc, severing three heads at once from the bodies of the easterlings that had sought to drive their spears into my back.
Time became omnipotent as I fought endlessly for several days and nights upon the open fields which soon ran red with blood. I lost track of the number I had slain, or the time that I saw the faces of my friends and kin, my father and I sometimes able to reach one another in order to fight back to back before being separated once more. The endurance of the Elves and Dwarves proved to be the final strength that proved our might, for we fought longer and harder than the orcs and easterlings, who continued to be culled to the very last as the stars also rained down upon them in my constant flow of expressive power, given to me by the Valar to ensure victory. The enemy defences buckled, and then all at once with a final push, we broke through and destroyed them all just as news arrived of the victory in the south, finishing the last of the enemy's will to fight.
As the last of the enemy were annihilated, I looked once more for Thorin upon the battlefield, daring not to look among the number of the fallen, and fearing that my visions of his fate had indeed come true. "Thorin! Thorin! Call to me, mellon nîn! Thorin!" With Gilestel loose by my side, I turned around in order to call again, the name of Erebor's king flying from my lips before it was cut off by the feeling of the breath being forced from my body, a dull aching throb bursting at my chest which made me drop my sword in order to grasp at the source of the discomfort. For a moment I was confused, unable to comprehend what had happened, until I felt the smooth heat of blood flowing down my back and the cold, iron shaft that had split through my body just above the neckline of the mithril chainmail where it failed to protect me. It caused me to shudder and gasp, staggering under the weight of such a light object, as if all the pressure of the world had sudden collapsed itself onto my shoulders.
Before I could truly process the truth, the feeling suddenly vanished and my eyes cleared of their milky haze, the vision passing from me to leave me standing perfectly unharmed, though a sudden resurgence of battle had emerged from a last pocket of resistance close to where I stood. I turned around, however as I did so, my eyes fell upon Thorin Oakenshield, and when my gaze rested upon him standing there, I instinctively smiled until I saw the protrusion emerging from his back and the light that had once filled his gaze begin to diminish. "No!" My outraged and bereaved howl split through the air as I flew to Thorin and caught him within my arms as he staggered forwards, collapsing as I had foreseen whereby blood began to fill his mouth and lungs from where the arrow had pierced him. "No, no it was not to be like this…it was not to be like this! Thorin you fool! I told you not to enter the battlefield, I told you to remain safe!"
"Forgive me, dear friend…but you know I could not." I sobbed and held him, grasping him tightly and refusing to let go as the last of the rebellion was quelled around us, the clashing of conflict gradually being roused to silence.
"You should not have died for me…you should not…it was not meant to be this way, Thorin…you knew! You knew you would die if you came here, and yet you came anyway!" To this Thorin merely chuckled, a sound so rich and precious that it was worth more to me than the endless wealth of Erebor and all the riches of the world combined, for he did not laugh often and the sound itself was one of the most beautiful sounds that I had ever beheld.
"And I told you…I am not afraid to die." His hand came to my face, seeking me out until his fingers pressed into my flesh and through my hair, where his eyes managed to find mine even through the haze of his weakening state. Shaking off my tears I pressed my hand over the wound and began to murmur in a fast paced tongue, attempting to heal him of his mortal injury and attempt to once more pull him back from the brink of death whilst Thorin continued to speak. "Especially when it is for a person I treasure deeper than my own heart. You have been…a true friend to me, Asta Eleniel. It has been my honour to know you." Coughing a mouthful of blood, Thorin growled and spat the excess away so that he could try to breathe a little more, even as I tried to heal him but the light that had previously adorned my body was fading even as the stars began to return to their rightful place in the night sky above. "I have known for a long time that our fates would be entwined. That I would one day have to repay the debt that I owed to you."
"No, do not speak of such things as debt. There is no debt between us, Thorin Oakenshield. Do not pollute our friendship by speaking such nonsense." Struggling to hold him upright, I brought my arms further around his body and shifted so that I could rest him against my propped leg, my tears still falling one after the other as the others began to gather in order to witness the death of their king in respectful, mournful silence. "You…you cannot leave now. Bilbo…he is over a hundred and eleven years old…he will wish to see you one more time before he passes. I intended to bring him here after the peace…you must hold on, Thorin…"
"The Halfling…" Smiling with fondness and nostalgia, Thorin sighed heavily as his eyes began to drift close. "Tell our burglar…that he was always the best of us. The bravest…the strongest…" Hearing my sobs continue to ravage my body, Thorin used the last of his strength in order to reach his hand to me one final time, framing my face and tracing the shape of my ear before running his heavy fingers through my curling locks. "Do not weep, Asta Eleniel. I have lived to see my home restored…my people grow strong…I have been blessed with friendships and loyalty rarer than any jewel of this earth." The light whisper of his words were not lost upon my hearing, but I did not want to hear them, or acknowledge that they would be his last. "Do not weep for me, for I have lived well. I leave Fili to you now. I pray you bestow upon him the same friendship and council you have given me. Asta Eleniel…" The last words Thorin spoke to me where in Khuzdul, whispered only for my ears to hear as I held him in my arms and wept upon his breast.
Around us his brethren knelt, bowing their heads as Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, breathed his last and his spirit left this mortal plain. My grief was unbound and endless, making me wish to tear open my armour and beat against my chest just to try and outmatch the pain. Fili and Kili came to my side and rested their hands upon my shoulders as I continued to weep freely until exhaustion overtook me and I lay weak and unmoving against Thorin's chest. It was Thranduil, my father, who bore me away in order to take rest and when I awoke he was there to hold me and console my woes in understanding. He rocked me like he had when I was a mere babe in his arms, small and helpless against the world, and the only consolation I had was that our victory had secured the north, and Thorin's death had been given significance and meaning. I would not allow his sacrifice to become futile, and so once I had wept myself hollow, I drew myself back together in order to face the ending of the next Age.