Author's Note: Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews. Thanks uno mega, DwarvenWarrior, SwanInProgress, cauldron-of-ceridwen, redhouseclan, Manzanablanca, anna. pantelarou, Just4Me, UKReader, house of the falling sun, and MNRD for reviewing! I try my best ;) A response to redhouseclan will be below.
Disclaimer: I do not own "Not Enough" by Our Lady Peace.
Chapter Twelve: Not Enough
Note to self: this dude must have been smoking something as strong as elephant tranquilizers. Or Troll tranquilizers. He was riding on a rabbit sleigh, trying to outrun Wargs like he was Toby Maguire riding Seabiscuit.
They were running across yellow-green grass, playing hide-and-go-seek behind giant boulders. Rue's backpack crashed against her shoulders nonstop. The straps dug into her shoulders, which hurt like a bitch. Ori and Gimli were next to her, both panting hard. The only advantage Rue had in this situation was that she was a runner. And…yep, nothing else. Otherwise, she was screwed. Her lips were still hurting, feet aching. Her entire body felt achy. Seconds later, the achiness dissipated, replaced by a warring numbness. What was going on with her body?
She remembered not to breathe through her mouth, forcing herself to breathe through her nose. But between gasping and nearly bawling in fear, she had opened her mouth. Thanks to her stupidity, now there was a faint stitch on her right side.
Up ahead, Gandalf and Thorin ran together, Gandalf giving Thorin these not-so-secretive looks that said, "Yep, I told you so." Gandalf was practically rubbing it in Thorin's face he had been right all along about Azog the Defiler. Here was the proof: the damn Wargs, Orcs riding on top of them like this was suddenly Narnia and they were the white witch on top of her polar bear. The Wargs were closing in on Radagast, inching closer and closer until―
He made an abrupt, sharp turn. Wargs crashed against rock, stumbling and falling.
Flashes of silver were in the Orcs' grasp, which most likely meant―weapons. Rue swallowed hard. Her head was reeling with a million fears, a million thoughts. Running felt mechanic. The fear of what she had done to Naji, of what could happen if they were caught by the Wargs, of what could happen to Radagast, made Rue's ankles feel swollen―made her whole body feel swollen. Achiness, numbness, and now feeling swollen. This wasn't some Dr. Oz medical mystery. This was fear. She wanted to stop. Wanted to break down. Wanted to cry. But she just kept running, looping an arm in Gimli's. He was falling behind.
"Gims, we're almost there," Rue said between wheezes, sweat dripping down her face. She didn't know where there was, but she would say anything to help Gimli see a light at the end of the tunnel. There had to be a light, right? There had to be a plan, right?
Dori and Nori protectively crowded Ori, prodding weapons at thin air, preparing for the moment the Wargs would spot them. It was inevitable. There were seventeen of them running, running out in the open. Somebody was going to probably face plant, and then get spotted. That person would most likely be Rue. Gandalf waved his staff, signaling to pause behind the safety of a rock. The company stopped as one, ragged breathing ringing like some menacing air raid, the fear so tangible by the smell of sick sweat. They squatted behind a rock face, pressing their backs against rock.
Bilbo's eyes were owlish. He blinked in disbelief, leaning against the boulder, looking ready to faint for a second time since the quest had started. Tiny yellow shrubs tangled around their boots.
"Where are they?" Bofur asked Bombur in a quiet hiss.
He shook his head, eyes traveling left. Rue shifted closer to her left, trying not to squish Dwalin, who was practically squeezed between her and Fili. She resisted the urge to gasp as Radagast flew by on his rabbit sleigh, less than twenty-feet away. He went the opposite direction, bowing his head down determinedly, eyes frozen on the plait of grass ahead of him.
Moments later, the Orcs on their Wargs went flying by, ugly grunts ripping through the air. Rue wasn't sure, but she swore she heard the Orc speaking in a different language. Did Orcs have their own language, too? Gandalf daringly stepped away from the rock, poking his head out from the behind their metaphorical hermit crab shell, eyes squinting in concentration.
"Stay together," Gandalf said intently, jerking his staff upwards as he darted away from the rock first.
"Move!" Thorin bellowed, his upper lip curled in a dangerous snarl.
Rue jolted in alarm, standing erect, Thorin's voice making her move―making everyone move as quick as lightning across the endless stretch of grass. His voice had that kind of effect. It made people want to listen out of fear, out of respect.
Heavy pants resonated unnervingly loud. They were running like crazy, trying to be stealthy, but miserably failing. Bifur fumbled with all the belongings he was carrying, nearly dropping something twice. Rue skirted past Bofur and Oin, trying to reach Bifur so she could help him, but Fili was there fast, grabbing several packs, tucking them underneath his arms. What a Superman. Strangely enough, Kili and Gimli stayed close together. One second, Kili was running, his leather jacket flying around his legs, and the next he was stumbling. He had lost his footing on some loose rock. Oh, crap. Rue had been anticipating that fall―the thing that would give them away. Kili's eyes were wild in fear. Hands grasped his shoulders, catching Kili before it was too late. Rue blinked in surprise, realizing Gimli had just saved Kili from falling.
No matter how much Rue paid attention to what everyone else was doing, to what she was doing, she couldn't stop casting gazes at the Orcs sprinting up and down the rock-minefield. She was searching, looking for him. The pale Orc. Rue imagined it would be this epitomizing moment, this moment where she would have no doubt the Orc staring her in the eye was Azog the Defiler. It was distracting. The fear. How could she be scared shitless of someone she had never even met? Her theory was if the dude could put someone as tough as Thorin in a cationic state for several seconds on bad days, then he must be really bad.
All of a sudden, the company was skidding to a quick halt, hiding behind another rock. Rue stopped mechanically since the rest of the company did, realizing her self-awareness was for shit today. Thorin was in the lead, jogging away from their cover, grabbing a fistful of Gimli's tunic as he almost ran out in the open. Literally seconds away from blowing their oh-so-secretive mission.
"Gimli get back!" Thorin spoke, alarm thick in his voice. He pulled Gimli back. Gloin sighed in relief.
Pulsations hissed in Rue's ears. Was her own heart beat so loud that she could hear it inside her ear canals? Were the other Dwarves' heart beats that loud? Steady little beats kept pressing in her ears, making their situation more real. The first time in a long time, Rue thought about the fact that this was Middle-earth. This place wasn't real. It was a fantasyland. She squeezed her eyes shut. A fantasyland, right? She opened her eyes, wisps of yellow-green grass in her line of sight, tiny shrubs and boulders littered across the vast distance. Nope. Middle-earth was sickeningly real.
In a flash, they were leaving the rock. Gandalf was beckoning them to move.
"Come on! Quick!" he said too passively in Rue's humble opinion. Did the kooky Wizard ever lose his cool? He did when it came to Thorin's stubbornness, but he seemed calm during most situations gone awry. During the Trolls. During operation what to do with Naji. Now.
The Dwarves took off in a single file line, one at a time, Thorin and Gandalf staying behind. Rue was shoved toward the middle of the group, along with Bilbo and Gimli.
"I do not need to be protected!" Gimli shouted stubbornly, needing to shut his bigmouth if they were ever going to get out of here alive. Hadn't he just been the one seconds away from blowing their cover?
She ventured a glimpse over her shoulder, heart feeling ready to explode at the thought of Thorin back there, not up here. He was talking to Gandalf, his stance tense, eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion. Well, uh, Gandalf did seem shady at times, as in where the heck did he live when he wasn't going on epic quests? He had never once mentioned a home. Everyone else had. Also, why did Gandalf keep it on the hush-hush that he was a Guardian?
Rue stupidly stopped running, wanting to wait for Thorin, to make sure he wasn't caught―
"What are you doing?" Nori flew past her, grabbing Rue by the forearm and dragging her along. "Come on, woman. The Orcs are not going to wait all day for you to move along, are they?" Good point.
Frantically, she continued looking back, relieved the instant she saw Thorin and Gandalf both there. Rue's eyes darted to Gimli, Kili, and Fili. Poor Fili was carrying Bifur's things. Somehow, he made it look effortless.
They were fast approaching another rock outcropping. The grassy plains above the outcropping, Rue could see giant wolf-like silhouettes gaining on their trail fast. Oh, shit. Had they spotted them?
The company came to a jerky stop, leaning against the rock outcropping in millisecond pandemonium before hiding and composing themselves as best they could. Shallow breaths echoed in quiet whispers. The smell of sweat was even stronger now. Rue clumsily took a step toward Gimli, only to be jerked back by Dwalin. His huge arm shot forward, backing Rue against the rock. She could see he used his other arm to keep Bilbo in place against the rock. Mr. Hobbitkins looked shit-face scared, eyes big, mouth parted as though he was seconds away from bawling his eyes out. Rue told herself to give Bilbo a big hug if they ever got out of this alive.
Suddenly, faint snarls resounded. Wait. That was not faint. Rue looked up, covering her mouth with trembling hands. A Warg was on top of the rock outcropping above them. The Warg scented the air, the Orc gazing out in the distance. Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Rue's heart felt ready to skyrocket out her chest. She shut her eyes, slowly easing her dagger out her cloak pocket. They were dead.
Without warning, Kili pulled away from the rock. Rue gasped. What the hell was he doing? Kili notched an arrow, aiming for the Warg. He let the arrow go. The arrow struck the Warg, piercing the beast's neck. Orc and Warg tumbled down the rock's side; literally face planting at their feet: the mix of fur, splatters of black blood, and Orc flesh too close for comfort.
"Both of you! Stay there!" Dwalin roared at her and Bilbo.
Bilbo nodded, looking seconds away from getting all sassy and saying, "Why would I not stay here?"
Dwalin gave a ferocious battle cry, running for the Warg, wielding his axe like he was Thor with his hammer. He brought the axe blade down with a sickening crunch, steel sinking into the Warg's fur, black blood squirting everywhere. So much blood. Rue felt nauseated, covering her mouth, hoping to God she didn't vomit everywhere. Awful time to start puking her guts out.
Kili notched another arrow. Fili yanked his blades out all incognito style, ready to step in. Gimli gripped his axe tighter, trying to pull away from the rock outcropping, only to be yanked back by a patronizing Gloin.
In a flash, the Orc crawled out from underneath the Warg, snarling, beady black eyes electrified in…hate. It ran for Dwalin, a big mistake. Thorin and Bifur were there in less than a second, slaughtering the Orc. It―it squealed as it died. Was it alive? No, duh, it was alive. But were all the Orcs really evil? It sounded sickeningly human as it died.
Rue kept her gaze on the rock, arms shaking like crazy. How much worse was this Azog the Defiler going to be? Because―because Rue had seriously been hoping this Orc was Azog and he had been easy to kill. All right, she knew she was being ridiculous since Azog was pale. But still.
Eerie howls echoed in the distance. Gandalf stood rigid, head moving as he looked to the horizon. The howls were getting achingly closer.
"Move. Run!" Gandalf shouted. Now he sounded flustered.
They took off from the rock at bullet speed, sprinting faster as the terror seeped through the air, seeping into Rue's bones. Her running was clumsier, stupider. She didn't breathe right. Smallish trees lay ahead, ones that reminded Rue of Christmas trees. The company darted past the cluster of trees, staying close together, the tired pants of the Dwarves becoming increasingly louder.
"There they are!" Gloin shouted, pointing to the far left corner.
"Let them come!" Gimli whirled around, stubbornly planting his feet in one spot.
All the Dwarves started turning around at once, knees bent in anticipation for the fight of their lives. Rue followed their lead, ready to shank the Orcs and Wargs if she had to. Bilbo gave a tiny squeak of fright, unsheathing his sword.
Thorin stepped forward, one-foot stumbling back a second later, making a grunt of―of―fear. Rue swallowed hard. No. Thorin was afraid. When he was afraid, that meant shit was about to turn The Shining scary.
In the distance, lined up and down the plain, were more Wargs. They prowled closer, teeth snapping and cracking. Rue looked left and right, up and down, trying to search for a way out. But they were surrounded like rabbits in a hole, the Wargs and Orcs closing in fast.
Kili bellowed, "There's more coming!"
"Then shoot them!" Gimli growled irritably.
Thorin growled, his sword already unsheathed, standing at the ready. His bottom lip was jutted out defiantly. He looked absolutely fearless.
Rue felt herself shoved backwards by Dwalin. "Get back!" His big hands were clenched around his axe in a death grip, knuckles turning white.
She ventured a glance over her shoulder, desperately searching for any way out. A firebolt? A dragon? Then she saw the pointy Wizard's hat disappear, headed for a rock behind them. Where in the world was Gandalf going?
Fili roared, "We're surrounded!" His blades were out as he was half-turned toward Thorin. One Warg inched closer and closer to Fili. The sight made Rue's stomach sink, her heart race frantically. Oh, no. No.
"Fili!" Rue shrieked.
He stood tense, whirling. A Warg pounced after him quick, teeth missing Fili's legs by inches. Fili leapt backwards, bringing his leg forward, landing an earth-shattering kick on the Warg's nose. His blade came crashing down, nicking the Warg in the ear. The beast yelped, whimpering, bucking backwards. An arrow pierced the Orc rider in the neck, the Orc falling down seconds later, dead in a heap.
"Where is Gandalf?" One of the Dwarves asked in a panicked shout. Was it Bofur? Kili? Nori? Rue wasn't sure who the voice belonged to, but then―
"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin proclaimed heatedly, sounding like he had expected to be double-crossed all along. Wait. What? Did Gandalf abandon them? Rue's gaze whipped toward the rock behind them. She could have sworn she saw him go there.
They were lined up back-to-back, their circle becoming alarmingly smaller the closer the Wargs got. Their space was depleting. Their time was depleting. They were going to die. Gandalf was gone. Bilbo looked ready to piss himself. But even then, they were willing to fight, Thorin's next words sending chills up and down Rue's spine.
"Hold your ground!"
Dori was swinging a chain. Nori was growling at the Wargs, a dagger in hand. Oin was pushed behind Gloin and Gimli. Bifur prodded his spearhead toward one of the oncoming Wargs.
The Orcs were grinning like this was some big joke. They were grinning? Rue wanted to strangle them with her own hands. Damn, they were freaking werewolf-like creatures, Professor Lupins, Greybacks, whatever the hell they were called, chasing them, and the Orcswere laughing?
The scent of rot, of mangy fur grew heavier and heavier. One Warg licked its mouth hungrily. Moments later, an arrow impaled its mouth. The Warg howled in pain, nearly throwing the Orc off that was riding it. Like a boss, Kili.
The air was tense. Everything was insane. Every single detail was ingrained in Rue's mind: the yellow grass tickling their boots, the sound of the panting Dwarves, the sound of the howling Wargs, the Orcs muttering in their ugly language, and then one Orc said a single word that had Rue trembling all over.
"Azog."
She didn't see who it was, but the word carried through the wind, hissing in her ear again and again. Azog. Azog.
Over the slant of a plain, Rue squinted as someone on top of a white Warg emerged. The dude―the Orc―was―was pale. White. One arm missing. He was gargantuan compared to the other Orcs. He rode hard, gaining on them fast. Rue gulped.
"This way, you fools!" Gandalf's voice echoed, like a lifeline.
At once, everyone looked over their shoulders. Gandalf was peeking out from a crack between the rock, pointy hat disappearing as he went down under.
Thorin bellowed like he was the Hungarian Horntail trying to burn Harry, "Come on, move! Quickly, all of you!" He shouted numerous go, go, go, commands. The Dwarves whirled around as one.
Rue spotted the familiar bump of hair going left…She looked left while running for the rock. Nori was racing for Dori and Ori. The sight made her blood run cold. Dori was on the ground, trying to get back up, Ori standing in front of him with a slingshot. A Warg's nose was practically pushed up against Ori's legs. He brought his slingshot down with an ear-splitting bam, bam, striking the creature in the nose. The Warg kept inching closer, mouth shutting as Ori leapt backwards, teeth missing his legs by centimeters. Ori hit the Warg again, his slingshot splintering in two pieces. Rue froze on the spot. Oh, crap.
Nori was suddenly there, yelling, "What are you doing! Go! Go!" Ori was in shock, one arm held out like a shield as the Warg's mouth came barreling forward. Its mouth was opened, clamping shut on―Nori's arm as he shoved Ori so hard out the way, he nearly fell. Nori griped in pain, biting down on his lip hard to keep from screaming. With his free hand, he stabbed the Warg in the face countless times. Blood was everywhere. Blood from the Warg. Blood from Nori. Rue's feet were suddenly moving, heading for the Ri brothers instinctively. Fleetingly, she saw half the company sliding down the crack in the rock. A gigantic arm shot out, making Rue stop with an audible humph. She recognized that arm. Those forearm guards. Thorin.
"Go!" Thorin roared, sweat pooling down his fuming face.
Rue opened her mouth, wanting to tell Thorin about a suspiciously gigantic Orc she swore she saw, but was cut-off by the hiss of an arrow. It was too close, soaring inches away from them. They stumbled back, gazes following the arrow as it pierced the bloody Warg's neck. Nori's bloodied arm dropped from its mouth. The Warg fell forward, collapsing face down on the grass, squealing. The Orc climbed off it. Kili and Fili were both running to help the Ri brothers. Gimli was not far behind them, huffing and puffing.
Gloin yelled from the rock, "GIMLI!" He struggled against Bofur's grip, trying to run after his crazy-brave son. They were arguing, Bofur saying something along the lines of, "Thorin's there. He'll be all right."
Ori and Dori helped Nori to his feet, standing their ground and facing the Orc just as another arrow flew. The Orc saw the arrowhead coming, eyes growing big as it ducked. The arrow was lost to the wind, falling on the ground moments later.
Kili and Fili arrived. They were demanding Ori and Dori take Nori to the rock. They heaved a struggling Nori backwards, who proclaimed, "I don't need your help! Let go! If you wouldn't help me before, why are you helping me now!"
Rue had never heard Nori so…emotional. Was he―he dying? Had the Warg bit him so hard, he was going to bleed to death? Oh, no.
Thorin faced Rue, scowling. "Go back!" He turned around, his back to her as he made a beeline for Fili and Kili, but then―
A blur of whiteness came crashing into Thorin, tackling him down. Rue's eyes were owlish. And then she heard the giant Orc's footsteps. Thud, thud, thud. Her eyes shot right, where the eight-foot tall Orc stood triumphant. He smiled as he watched his Warg on top of Thorin, footsteps plodding, ominous.
"THORIN!" Rue screamed, kicking the Warg, ready to bring her dagger down.
Then she felt one big hand grasp her forearm, yanking her backwards. It was Dwalin, shoving her toward Ori, Nori, and Dori as they passed.
"Take her!" Dwalin told Ori.
"Come on!" Ori yelled in panic, hand grasping Rue's wrist as he dragged her backwards. She didn't fight it this time, sprinting alongside Ori, realizing it was best to listen if―if―
"Azog," Thorin's gruff voice grieved in fear, in shock.
Azog. The eight-foot tall dude was Azog. Rue swallowed hard. When she had imagined Azog, she thought he would have been smaller, more―more compact like those scary Orcs from the second Lord of the Rings film. Not so big. Not so impossible. Thorin had actually chopped this guy's arm off? He―in his five-foot tall glory―had nearly killed this eight-foot tall monster? The thought, the realization, made Rue want to gush over Thorin. How had he done it?
She grinded to a halt, palms freezing on the cool rock that led to the hollow below. From the crack in the rock, dirty, scared faces looked up at her.
"Come on, Miss Rue!" Ori beckoned her while Dori helped Nori slide down safely.
Rue shook her head, turning around. "Shouldn't we wait until―until-?" Her voice was lost as she stumbled; back colliding against the rocky wall.
The Warg was bleeding from the mouth, rubbing its face in the grass as it tried to paw away the blood. Thorin was up on his feet, standing his ground against Azog. Dwalin reluctantly let them square off, making a beeline for Kili, Fili, and Gimli.
The Orc swung its sword, blade missing Kili by inches. Fili was there fast, standing in front of Kili and Gimli, arms protectively veered outwards. It reminded Rue of the scene in the Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban movie, when Snape protected Harry, Hermione, and Ron from Professor Lupin.
Gimli and Kili were both open-mouthed, eyes darting back and forth from their Orc, to Azog and Thorin.
"I'm done!" Fili yelled. A passionate battle cry tore from his throat. And then he was charging for the Orc. He dodged its sword, sidestepping the blade, spearing the Orc in the gut. Like an adept lion taking down its prey, Fili wrapped both arms around the Orc's neck, swinging himself around the Orc. His legs cradled the Orc's torso as he landed on his butt, forearms snapping the Orc's neck from behind. It was dead in less than a minute at Fili's hands.
Kili was poised with an arrow, Gimli at the ready with his axe.
Rue heard Dwalin shout, "Move! Move!"
They were racing across the plain as one, nearing the rock. Dwalin, Kili, and Fili's expressions were torn as their gazes darted to Thorin and Azog. They wanted to make sure he was safe, but they knew Thorin needed to do this alone. They respected him enough to risk it. Rue concluded it must have been an unknown rule amongst Dwarf warriors or maybe all warriors: let the warrior fight their biggest adversary alone.
Rue saw Gloin desperately trying to climb the slant, fingernails clawing at the rock. "My son!" he cried.
"He's com―coming." Rue nodded in reassurance.
Ori tugged on her sleeve impatiently, making a face.
But Rue couldn't go down that slant, not knowing if Thorin was dead or alive. Dwalin, Fili, and Kili stayed where they were, huddled close, beyond the rock. Close enough to Thorin just in case, but far enough away not to seem intrusive. Gimli reached the rock, sliding right down the slope, crashing into Gloin.
They all watched Thorin face Azog, ignoring Gandalf's incessant shouts from below of, "What is going on out there?"
Azog swung his mace, the mace meeting the steel of Thorin's new sword. Thorin dug his heels into the grass, hatred etched across his face as he stared Azog down. This was the Orc that had murdered his grandfather. This was the Orc who fathered the son who had killed Thorin's brother. Thorin had nearly lost everything when Smaug had burned down Erebor. And Azog had taken the rest of his everything away.
Thorin clenched underneath Azog's strength, growling, a tiger finally escaping its cage. Azog started speaking in the ugly Orc language, turning to swing his mace again. The gigantic weapon slammed against Thorin's sword once again. The mace was too strong this time, inching Thorin back. He lost his footing, landing on his bottom, looking absolutely―terrified. Rue had never seen Thorin so openly afraid. Rue gasped quietly, covering her mouth, tears stinging her eyes.
Kili went to run after Thorin, but was stopped by Fili.
"He's going to kill him!" Kili roared in protest, chest rising and falling in his sudden panic.
Azog plodded closer to Thorin, laughing as he lazily, teasingly, let his mace drag on the ground. Oh, no. Rue's heart was beating like a war drum. Oh, no.
Thorin's hand slid behind his back, shooting forward right as Azog brought his mace crashing down for the second time. On Thorin's forearm was the oaken branch, the mace meeting the wood with a sickening crunch. Thorin slid out the way, getting to his feet seconds later, bringing his sword to meet Azog's mace in one thunderous clash. They faced each other, Thorin peering up at Azog, the pale Orc looking down at Thorin. The air was tense, Rue's head whirling in a permanent state of pandemonium. Oh, gosh. Oh, crap.
Thorin did not budge, boots planted firmly, bearing Azog's monstrous strength, Azog barely capable of bearing Thorin's. Nobody moved. There were audible growls and pants, all from Thorin. Rue inhaled. Exhaled.
In a flash, one of Thorin's hands shot out. His fingers aimed up, reaching for Azog's right eye. Everything was in slow motion, Thorin's fingers clamping around Azog's eye, the look of shock on Azog's face, and then the disgusting sound of flesh ripping flesh. His fingers dug into Azog's eye socket, struggling to tear flesh with flesh, blood seeping down the curve of Thorin's nails. Thorin's hand was a quick fist, jerking away, pulling Azog's eye out his socket. The mace fell from Azog's hands as he bellowed in pain. The pale Orc dropped to his knees, crying bloody murder, touching his eyeless socket in dismay. Black blood was everywhere, detached muscly veins tangled in a bloody mess, the sight making Rue feel nauseated. Don't throw up. Please don't throw up. Thorin stood triumphant, breathing hard, giving out a passionate battle cry as he raised his hand, a slight tremor shooting through his arm. He shut his fist, the eyeball squelching between his hand. Eyeball juices oozed leaked Thorin's hand. He lifted his sword for the final kill. Two Wargs were fast approaching from afar.
Rue doubled over; vomiting the stew they had for dinner last night, wiping her leaky eyes. She rubbed her mouth, feeling Kili's hand on her back, his fingers trembling in fear. Hadn't Kili been over there? Maybe Kili was just as grossed out? Not that―that what Thorin had done wasn't one of the coolest things Rue had ever seen. He had literally taken out Azog's right eye. With his freaking hand. Dwalin, Ori, Kili, and Fili were staring at Thorin in awe, in admiration, in grave respect, but also in dismay.
Rue stood back up, heart racing a million beats per minute. She joined the rest of the Dwarves in their stares of unparalleled wonder. No wonder Thorin had been named Thorin Oakenshield, no wonder the company respected and feared him. He was a warrior through and through, officially the toughest son of a bitch she had ever seen.
Thorin's sword was ten inches, eight inches, three inches, and then centimeters away from Azog's thick neck. He swung hard, teeth clenched tight. One Warg came from the left. Thorin sidestepped the assault, bringing his blade down on the creature's side.
A deafening, exotic-sounding horn blared over the plains. Thorin stood stark still, his expression unreadable, eyes wide. He was listening, and then―
Just as the second Warg came, Thorin spun around and raced for the rock. A dozen horses emerged over the vast plains, riders carrying flags. Their armor was gold, glinting underneath the sunlight.
"Elves!" Thorin roared, voice cracking. He seemed torn, stopping mid-step to cast a glimpse at Azog.
All three Wargs were protecting him now, including his own white one. Oh, shit.
"Thorin!" Dwalin boomed, taking a frantic step-forward. "Move!"
Thorin continued running for the rock, reaching it just as the strange riders surrounded the remaining Wargs and―and an eyeless Azog. Were they like the order of the phoenix?
Rue couldn't think straight, her lips quivering, fingers shaking nonstop as she turned to slide down the slope first. Everything was in vivid detail; as if her body had heightened its own senses. Rock skidded against her backside. She felt the rest of Dwarves sliding in behind her. The last thing she saw was Thorin sliding down the slant and one of the Elves―wait, was Leggy here?―shooting an arrow at Azog. The arrow missed Big White Bitch by a hair. And then the world around Rue was crowded with too many bodies, too many fears.
Author's Note: So how do you feel about the changes? This chapter was a tad more dramatic. Hope the Azog scene wasn't too much for people. I like writing about blood, guts, and gore :) Please review! I love reviews! Who doesn't? I was thinking about updating twice next week since it's going to be Thanksgiving and all. How do you guys feel about that? Also, I wanted to give a shout-out to jaoosa2 for making some "Heroes" fanart. The drawing is incredible and you can go to my Tumblr to see the masterpiece :) I have the best readers around.
Redhouseclan: Thank you for reviewing and using the epic word. I'm so flattered :) Can't believe you look out for my updates *Am gushing* I do the same with some fics, so it's just so awesome to know someone does the same with mine. Thanks so much again!