Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! Thank you TheHobbitFanatic, chibichibi98, DwarvenWarrior, Leseratte14, Sarah Jackson – The Other, THE WALKING sexy AMC, znk99fg7, SiaSaySomeday, Lalaithiel, Just4Me, uno mega, WannaBeNinja, x0chu0x, Coolo, ThePJOLover, YoIt'sThatOneGirlNameBianca, cauldron-of-ceridwen, Tulipa Negra, TimeLady945, and mysterymaiden14 for reviewing! Answers to the anons will be below. Every time you review, Thorin is willing to give his virtue to you ;) Did I just pimp Thorin out? JK!
Disclaimer: I do not own "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour. This song is epic.
Chapter Nineteen: Cult of Personality
Several things happened at once. Thorin ducked, the mace missing him by inches. He teetered on the edge of the tree trunk, stopping his fall the very last second. Dori and Ori arrived on the other side of the river, and Rue slowly turned around, whipping Severus out. She had to go back. She didn't care if millions of fears were eating away at her brain―at her common sense. Thorin was in danger. And if Rue had to face Satan himself to make sure Thorin was okay, then she would.
"Keep going!"
Her eyes traveled to the other end of the river, where Dwalin was frantically waving at Rue. The other Dwarves were following Dwalin's cues, encouraging her to keep going. At first, she summarized that they were heartless bastards. But then―
She saw Thorin scramble his way across the tree trunk, balancing himself unsteadily. It seemed like Azog completely forgot he was on a Warg as he lurched forward, his Warg's paws screeching against the bark. Quickly, his mouth opened in dismay. He pulled his Warg back, seething, pissed the hell off.
Rue walked faster, placing one foot in front of the other, thinking of the corny Christmas song from Santa Claus Is Coming to Town to get her across. One foot in front of the other. It was simple. No biggie. Rue was breathing hard, her pants sounding like nails on a chalkboard to her own ears. It was torture forcing herself to keep going, forcing herself not to turn and look. Because right now, the best thing she could do for Thorin was keep going, to get her own ass off this freaking tree so he could get off it.
Her arms were splayed out, shaking―shaking really bad. It didn't help that she could hear Thorin's boots scuffing across the bark, hear his breathing, hear how close he was coming. Hurry up. Move faster. In Rue's haste, she stepped too quick, too careless. Her foot slipped on moss. She shrieked. Rue's foot plunged down, her whole body falling, chest and face crashing against the wood.
Rue hugged the tree for dear life, one leg dangling over the edge.
The Dwarves were yelling in uproar.
It was weird, but only two voices stuck out like sore thumbs. Gimli's and Thorin's.
"Lass, are you all right? Get up! You have to move!"
"Rue!"
With trembling fingers, her heart racing like a skyrocket, Rue pushed herself up. Achingly slow, she pried her hands away from the wood. The feel of Thorin's hand on her back brought her comfort. He was behind her now, speaking close to her ear, helping her stand.
"Mahal knows I will let nothing happen to you."
Suddenly, Rue was well-aware that Thorin was afraid by the tremors shooting through his arms as he wrapped a firm arm around her waist. Had he just said what she thought he said?
Rue squeaked, walking, daring to peek at the roaring river.
They moved together, Thorin acting as some kind of anchor. Rue swallowed hard. And for the first time in what felt like a long while, she looked on to see how much farther they had to go. Her heart nearly stopped. They were only two-feet away at the most.
"You are wise," he said in her ear breathily. "Do not ever underestimate your wisdom."
"Wise?" Rue gulped, one hand clutching onto Thorin's big hand for dear life. She was surprised as he interlaced their fingers, squeezing her hand in reassurance.
Rue quickly stared at him, hating the raging fire on the opposite end, despising the creepy silhouettes of Wargs, Orcs, and Azog slithering about.
Thorin's eyes never left hers once as he spoke huskily, "You are the wisest human I have ever met."
Rue felt her stomach drop, felt like she might as well have fallen off the tree, tumbled into the river, drowned, and plunged down the waterfall to meet her end.
She gave a squeak of fright, clutching Thorin's hand even tighter, walking on wobbly legs.
Then―then―
"I've got you lassie."
Rue had never been more relieved in her life to hear Dwalin talk. She left the safety of Thorin's arms, Thorin gently prodding her to go without him by the feel of his fingers on the small of her back. Rue traipsed mere inches the rest of the way, leaping off the tree, into Dwalin's awaiting arms. It was weird that Dwalin out of all people was the one to catch her. She would have expected Gimli or Nori or maybe even Bilbo to volunteer for the honor―it wasn't really an honor.
The feeling of grass tickling her boots had never felt so darn good. Dwalin put her down within seconds, gently pushing her toward the other Dwarves. Rue whirled to face the tree trunk, erratic heartbeat slowing to a dull thud, thud…Thorin needed to take one last step. He placed one foot in front of the other―
In a flash, there were yells―screams. At first, Rue had no idea why the company was freaking out. But then she stood on her tiptoes, gaze on the opposite bank. All she could see were three spears roaring across the river, impossibly fast, impossibly long. No. They weren't going to make it here. Spears reaching this far was illogical, was against the laws of physics.
Rue's eyes bugged out. The spearheads closed in like missiles.
"GET DOWN!" Thorin boomed, squatting down.
Spears flew overhead. Rue hit the ground, having sudden flashbacks of practicing drills for drive-by shootings in her high school classrooms.
She saw blurs of the Dwarves making it to the ground just in time. Rue covered the back of her head, mouth meeting grass, and the feel of Bilbo's hairy Hobbit feet on her legs a crazy respite.
Everything happened so fast, Rue daring to look from the grass. She panted, her eyes meeting owlish eyes. Everybody was blinking at each other, assessing what in the hell had just happened, if anyone were―
"FILI!" Kili screamed bloody murder.
Rue rolled on her side, following the cry.
Fili sat on the grass, blinking lazily as he took in the sight of a spear lodged in his thigh. He gingerly touched the spear, blood seeping on the palm of his hand, in disbelief. Kili crawled to his side, his chest rising and falling as he sobbed loudly. Sobbing these ugly cries that made Rue want to cry because he was hurt. Fili had been hit by one of the spears. Her mind rewound that thought again and again, and every time she digested it, Rue only shook her head, trying to desperately convince herself that everything unfolding here was a lie.
She sat up, going to take off her cloak with the intention of making Fili a bandage, but then―
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rise from his spot on the tree. Stupidly, Rue thought Thorin was finally getting off the tree. But no. He turned around, unsheathing Orcrist, his eyes blue thunder―murderous in the firelight. Azog was in his crosshairs. That bastard had gone too fucking far. It was like Rue could feel Thorin's thoughts roaring off him. He started to march down the tree trunk, strides faster and faster.
Balin sat up, only shaking his head, not shocked in the slightest. Dwalin stood up, looking from injured Fili to scary Thorin, one hand splayed out in confusion while his other gripped his axe. If Dwalin didn't know what to do, then they were screwed.
At once, the Orcs stopped throwing their spears, mangy lips curling in snarls as they stared at Thorin in unabashed hatred. Rue gulped. Azog blinked once, his only eye bringing back the memory of the Warg chase tenfold. The hatred seething in Azog's eye, the way he was looking at Thorin―it gave Rue the heebie-jeebies―like the moment Thorin would cross the threshold back into Orc territory, Azog would destroy him. Or maybe Thorin would destroy him.
Thorin's strides became faster, more urgent, more crazy angry as he began to straight-out charge. From beside her, Rue noticed the other Dwarves standing stark still, their eyes wide in dismay, wonder, and respect. Maybe Thorin charging across a slippery tree trunk wasn't the smartest thing to do, maybe him willingly running into a foray of Orcs was rash, but one thing was sure: Rue had never seen him look more like a king than he did now. A warrior. Brave. The true King Under the Mountain.
He reached for his oaken branch, wielding it as a shield. The hairs on the back of Rue's neck stood on end. She heard Bilbo give a little gasp.
Thorin's feet plodded off the bark, stomping across grass, meeting Azog. Mace crunched against sword. Thorin gritted his teeth, grunting and growling loudly as he swung his oaken branch at the white Warg beneath Azog. The beast yelped as it was struck in the nose. The other Orcs stayed back, watching, waiting ominously.
"Dwalin, Dwalin!" Kili cried.
Rue took her eyes off Thorin's battling form, following Kili's choking sobs. Dwalin raced to Fili's side, helping Kili make some quick makeshift bandage out of cloth and something else Rue couldn't make out in the darkness. Oin was beside them, hand on his forehead―he looked like he was about to have a breakdown. Then came the hard part, the part that was impossible to watch―impossible to listen to. Dwalin grabbed the spear, daring to glance at Fili before beginning to pull…
"AHHHH!" Fili shouted, bucking forward, Rue swearing his face was a sickly shade of green now.
Rue shakily yanked Severus out her cloak, bending her knees, turning to peer out at the opposite riverbank. Thorin was trying to battle Azog and his white Warg at the same time, stumbling back as Azog sent his mace rocketing against Orcrist again.
This time, the Warg leapt forward, one paw veering outwards, striking Thorin square in the chest. The blow was enough to send him sprawling back. Thorin lost his footing, falling on his bottom, groaning in pain. His eyes flitted everywhere in panic, head turning as he quickly tried to push himself back up.
SLAM.
Azog was there fast, bringing his mace down. The mace met Orcrist. Thorin climbed up from his knees, the gesture―the sight of watching Thorin having been forced to his knees too much for Rue to bear. He was majestic, a king, strong, and―Rue gulped, one hand wrapped around her stomach―one of the bravest people she had ever met.
He was on his feet again. Thorin sidestepped the mace, bringing the blade to Azog's side. There was a piercing cry as steel met flesh. Rue blinked clumsily, squinting, making sure she was seeing things right. Thorin had just managed to get one over on Azog. The Orc veered his Warg back, roaring in anger.
And then―
In one swift move, Azog bounded forward. His Warg crashed headfirst against Thorin, opening its mouth, paws pressing down on his chest as it literally leapt onto Thorin. Rue's blood went cold. No.
No.
The White Warg was too heavy. Thorin fell back down, eyes nearly popping open. Rue was surprised she could see how afraid he was―which scared the shit out of her since in her mind, Thorin was the definition of bravery―from this far.
She stood on her tiptoes, quivering nonstop; feeling like her pulse was ready to burst out her neck. Thorin was going to die―but what if Fili did first?
Suddenly, the Warg's jaw was a stone's throw away from Thorin's shoulder, and then centimeters away―
He started griping in pain, legs jerking about as he fidgeted, as he tried to escape the Warg and Azog on top of him. The pain became too much―Thorin fought back a yell for several excruciating seconds, twitching, his body nearly in spasm. All Rue could think was: the Warg was biting Thorin, it was biting his shoulder. No. No.
That was when the yelling started.
Thorin cried out in pain, the sound nearly rupturing her eardrums.
Dwalin jerked up from his spot next to Fili.
Balin slowly made it to his feet, crying, "No!"
Gimli went to run for the tree trunk, eyes wild in insurgency, already heaving his axe, but was stopped by Gloin who nearly tackled him.
Kili's eyes flew from the opposite riverbank to his brother in indecision. Sickeningly, Rue noticed the fire had grown so damn big, that she could now see this side of the river thanks to the firelight. Tears trailed down Kili's cheeks. It was too much.
Rue sprinted for the tree trunk, panting, throat feeling swollen. Sure, she was no freaking warrior, but she'd give Azog the ass whooping of his life for daring to even touch Thorin. The feel of a hand on her forearm stopped her. Rue whirled around angrily, glimpses of an Orc wielding a sword trudging Thorin's way the last thing she saw before meeting―
Bilbo.
Rue had seriously expected Dwalin to stop her from "Attempt to shank Azog all by meself" plan. Bilbo's small chest was rising and falling rapidly, his eyes owlish. In his hand was his sword, the weapon Balin had once coined, "A letter opener." It shone blue, the telltale sign monsters like Goblins and Orcs were near.
Bilbo pointed a shaky finger in Rue's face, waggling it in a silent gesture of "No-no."
He leaned closer, meeting Rue's eyes. "Stay here." Bilbo took a step toward the tree trunk, turning around one last time to murmur, "What's in your pocket will give you complete discretion once you wear it." Bilbo seemed taken aback by what he had just said, narrow shoulders trembling as he turned and climbed on the tree trunk. Then Bilbo was racing awkwardly across the trunk, big Hobbit feet treading meticulously, yet urgently.
Rue looked across the river. She gasped. The Orc wielding the sword towered over Thorin. He was trying to reach for Orcrist, fingers closing, grasping at nothingness. Azog and his Warg were arrogantly standing farther away now, Azog opening his mouth to say something in a strange language. With the river roaring dominantly, Rue couldn't make out what in the hell was coming out Azog's mouth. Maybe he was saying, "Ooga booga?" Who knew? Anyway, that seemed like the extent of Azog's intelligence.
The Orc raised the sword high above Thorin's head. No. Thorin blinked warily. Splotches of red―of blood were on his shoulder, seeping his coat. Rue hated she could see the blood from here. It only meant Thorin was bleeding―bleeding a lot.
With numb fingers, Rue dug inside her coat pocket. The ring was cool against the palm of her hand.
Thirty seconds. Bilbo was at the halfway point on the tree trunk, stumbling his way closer and closer. The Orc turned one last time to listen to Azog say something. The other Orcs and Wargs watched in sick fascination, grouping closer to Thorin. Twenty-five seconds. Rue pulled the ring out her cloak, watching the glint of firelight reflect off it. She peeked over her shoulder to find some of the Dwarves gathered around Kili, Fili, and Dwalin, while Bofur and Bombur seemed to be in states of shock. They were still sitting in the grass. Nori, Dori, and Ori were watching everything unfold in dismay, talking amongst themselves in a frantic argument. Rue heard bits and pieces of "What are we waiting for?" and "We will be killed." Twenty seconds. She sucked up all her fears, ignored every sensible thought that told her to stay right where she was. Rue dared to look over her shoulder one last time. Gloin was spitting out Middle-earth versions of curses at Gimli, holding him back with everything he had. Seventeen seconds. Rue slipped the ring on her finger.
Ten seconds. The world turned distorted―not exactly distorted―more like magnified. She jumped on the tree trunk, fighting the impulse to tread lightly and carefully. Rue forced herself to run, forced her wobbly legs to cooperate.
Five seconds. The Orc grinned. Then the sword was plummeting for Thorin's neck to―Rue resisted the urge to throw up―decapitate him. Bilbo reached grass. Rue gasped. One second. The sword was centimeters away from Thorin's throat. Rue stumbled, almost falling. No. No.
In a flash, Bilbo tackled the Orc, pint-size Bilbo taking the beast down. They rolled on the grass, the Orc overpowering Bilbo as it rolled on top, plunging its sword down. Bilbo moved at the last second, rolling left, sliding on top of the Orc. Suddenly, Bilbo was stabbing the Orc in the gut with his letter opener. The Orc cried these guttural sounds as it died, black blood spraying on parts of Bilbo's face and the grass.
Quickly, Bilbo climbed to his feet, standing in front of Thorin.
Thorin's mouth was open in shock as he forced himself to inch to the right―closer to Orcrist. Rue was almost there, heart feeling ready to explode into a million pieces. Azog snarled at Bilbo. The white Warg growled, slowly plodding Bilbo's way. Mr. Hobbitkins swung his sword left and right like he was drunk. The gang of Orcs eyed Bilbo like he was a piece of meat.
The end of the tree trunk was less than five inches away. The river rapids below became nothing more than a passing fear. Rue made it, her boots reaching swallows of grass as she climbed down.
Fearfully, she noticed all eyes go to her. Rue froze on the spot, behind Thorin and Bilbo. But Bilbo had said, "What's in your pocket will give you complete discretion once you wear it." That was the Middle-earth version of saying invisible. So why were they looking at her? If they could see her, that meant her stupid plan was ruined―
"Let us kick some Orc jacksey!"
"Ya said that right."
"Aye!"
"For Thorin."
Rue only had a second's notice to sidestep left, the oncoming hoard of Dwarves―Nori, Dori, Ori, Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur―barreling right where she had been standing.
The Dwarves stormed the grassy riverbank, Ori yelling a passionate battle cry as he swung his war hammer―where had Ori gotten one of those?―at an Orc. The impact sent the Orc falling into the river. Rue saw one final glimpse of the Orc going down the waterfall and screaming seconds later.
Battle broke out.
Bilbo hollered as though he was a gun-toting gangster defending his turf, attempting battle against one of the many Wargs. The sound of steel against steel resounded.
Rue carefully prodded for Thorin, falling to her knees. No one was guarding him but her now. He was panting heavily, desperately trying to reach for his sword, only centimeters away now. She held Severus at the ready, casting frantic glances at every inch of the riverbank. Rue peered down at Thorin. Seeing how much Thorin had bled―she shook her head as she started to shrug her cloak off. No. He was going to live. But what could Rue really do? No. Be strong like Thorin. He needed her now.
Thorin had protected her, had done so much for her. He'd taken Rue to the Blue Mountains, the Shire, and then to Rivendell. And now she was actually on this quest thanks to―Rue wasn't exactly sure what―Thorin's sympathy? He could have turned her away and sent her back to Rivendell, but he hadn't. She was making these stupid choking noises, sobbing so hard her gut hurt. Thorin frantically looked left, right, trying to locate the sound of her pathetic crying. Rue buried her mouth beneath her hands, forcing back tears, swallowing sobs.
Hastily, she ripped a piece of her cloak off, gingerly reaching for Thorin's shoulder. Carefully, Rue started to tie the cloth around his shoulder, whimpering when she saw how much blood soaked through the stupid cloth. Thorin jumped in alarm, eyes becoming uncharacteristically owlish, his hand finding Orcrist's hilt. Maybe she should have thought things through before touching Thorin with the ring on?
Rue swallowed hard. The shrubs, grass, and scant trees surrounding the river burned furiously. Writhing smoke coated the air, filling her nostrils. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover her coughs, but it was too late. She was coughing.
"Who is there?" Thorin growled defensively, trying to sit up, hissing in pain. He fell back again, the pain in his shoulder too much. Stubbornly, Thorin attempted to sit up again.
Rue made a split-second decision. With twitchy fingers, she slipped the ring off. The world was back to normal, the normal world freakier than the abnormal world the ring had brought upon her. She tentatively touched Thorin's uninjured shoulder, trying to get him to stay put.
"Thorin, stay right here, okay? You gotta stay here, I'll make sure you're okay. Pl―please?" Rue sputtered. She stole a glance at the Dwarves battling the Orcs, searching for him.
Thorin's gaze was on hers, intense and searching. He shook his head. "How did―" He stopped mid-sentence to peer at their surroundings. Thorin's Adam apple bobbed up and down― "Rue, you need to leave." He was breathing harder. Rue touched his cheek. She wasn't going anywhere, tenderly caressing his beautiful jaw, the contours of his handsome face.
"I'm staying here with you."
"Go. Cross the tree again―" Thorin was shaking his head, eyes becoming glazed― "Do not come back."
Ruptures of bruises were on his face. From his cheek, to underneath his eye, all the way to the corner of his lips. His ugly injuries undid Rue. She broke. With quivering fingers, she traced the bruise on the corner of his lips. Thorin shuddered, his eyes becoming soft in the glow of the firelight.
Rue was breathing heavy, eyes flitting around the riverbank nonstop. She spotted Azog coming achingly close. Nori stabbed an Orc in the jugular, black blood spurting. Dori slammed his chain against two Orcs at one time. Bifur sent his spear pummeling into a Warg.
All the blood―the fact that Thorin and Fili might die―it was too much. Tears leaked from her eyes. Damn. Talk about shitty timing. Crying now? Rue wished she could strangle herself, strangle her tears away.
She looked at Thorin again. He was gazing at her in a way she had never seen him look at anyone before―so warm, but also in…fear. Like he was more afraid for Rue than he was for himself.
Without warning, she felt warmth―and lips―on her fingers. Thorin kissed her fingertips. Then with his free hand, he rested his hand on her fingers.
"Goodbye, Rue."
What? Rue shook her head uselessly. What the hell was Thorin not getting? She wasn't going to leave him to die―
"NO!"
Rue followed Thorin's wide eyes. Azog's mace was less than a foot away, ready to crush her skull. Her hand flew out, Severus's sharp point aimed up. A dagger against a mace? What the heck had Rue been thinking? Wait. She hadn't been thinking.
Across the river, she heard Gimli cry, "RUE!"
Thorin popped up like some disturbing jack-in-the-box, shoving Rue out the way, swinging Orcrist up with a painful grunt. The mace crashed against sword. Thorin's lips curled in a rebellious, painful grimace. Rue scrambled to her feet, thinking at Hermione speed for once.
Bilbo came wielding his sword out of nowhere, attacking Azog's Warg. He missed the beast twice, nearly falling. The Warg shoved him away with its nose like he was a joke, Bilbo landing on his butt with an audible harrumph.
Azog's mace overpowered Orcrist, Thorin's arms trembling beneath the pressure. He fell on his back again, eyes wild in fear, his breaths turning into rapid pants. In alarm, Rue realized one thing: Thorin looked like a man who had already accepted defeat.
Without a second thought, Rue slipped the ring back on. Bilbo gasped, his eyes flying fearfully from the other side of the river to her. Rue followed Bilbo's gaze, expecting to see Fili dead, to see Kili mourning the loss of his brother, but instead she saw Gimli racing across the tree trunk. His foot slipped. Gimli tumbled down, trying to catch himself with flailing arms, his axe landing in the river. His other leg plunged over. Gloin was not far behind him, diving for Gimli. His hands found Gimli's before he could fall into the river.
Gimli was dangling over the river, yelling in terror. Rue had never seen him look so much like a Dwarfling than he did now. His hands were desperately clinging onto his father's. No. Rue shook her head, then―
"Thorin!" Nori's shout ripped the air.
Azog held his mace high up for the final time.
Rue circled Azog. She shut one eye, blocking the piercing pallor from the Warg's coat. Rue stood behind Azog now, leaping up, avoiding brushing up against the Warg at all cost. Severus was gripped in her hand, Rue bringing the dagger down with a sickening chomp. Knifepoint met flesh, breaking into Azog's back.
He bellowed in pain. Rue shakily managed to pull Severus free right in time. The mace came barreling her way. Rue jumped back.
But not fast enough.
The mace clipped her right thigh. Stars burst in front of her eyes.
The pain―shit it hurt. Rue fell on her knees, gingerly touching the blood staining her pants.
"NO!" Thorin thundered from his spot on the ground, attempting to get up again.
Azog turned away from Thorin, searching for who had stabbed him in the back. She covered her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. Rue bit back the pain, knowing if she screamed, she'd be dead. Azog would find her. Look what he had done to her when she had been invisible. What would he do to her when he could see or know she was there?
In a flash, an ear-splitting scream pierced the air. Azog whirled away on his Warg again, watching the river in full-blown attentiveness. Gloin was holding onto nothing, sobbing these wretched cries. Rue stood up quick, stumbling her way closer so she could see―
Gimli was floating down the river, redhead bobbing in the blue-green murk. Only seconds passed, and then he was going over the waterfall, hands flying out for anything to stop his fall.
"Gimli!"
For a moment, Rue wondered who had shrieked his name. In sick understanding, she realized she had been the one to cry Gimli's name. Azog followed the sound of her voice, grinning as he found her spot.
Rue froze. She stumbled back, gasping in pain. Her freaking thigh was killing her.
All of a sudden, a goliath shadow was cast on the river. Rue looked to the moonlit, smoky sky. There was a squawk―a birdcall, and then―
An eagle the size of a Hungarian Horntail coasted over the waterfall, a familiar, pointed hat-wearing wizard riding on top of the bird. Gandalf. One second, Gimli was falling, the next, he was landing on feathers, crying out in relief.
The eagle and Gandalf had caught him.
More bird cries resonated. Majestic caws.
Rue watched the sky in awe as more eagles arrived. They were like dinosaurs from freaking Jurassic Park, so big, so unbelievable. But Rue had never been more happier in her life to see birds―or Gandalf.
They started crashing against the scant, torched trees, claws bringing the trees down. The trees smashed Orcs and Wargs. One eagle swept in, picking off two Wargs, and chucking them into the rapid river. Howls of pain rang throughout the air. Rue gulped. Luckily, Azog was too busy craning his head this way and that way thanks to his one eye, trying to see what was happening.
More eagles came, picking up―Rue blinked, doing a double take as an eagle picked Bifur and Bofur off the ground. The Dwarf cousins were swinging their arms in panic, Bombur chasing after them. Seconds later, Bombur was picked up.
On the other side of the river, Rue could see Kili and Dwalin lifting Fili onto a perched eagle, waiting for them like it was some taxi service. What in the heck was happening?
Rue turned to face Thorin. He was sitting up; breathing harder, face ghostly white. No. She shook her head, removing the ring from her finger. This strange sensation swooped through her, this otherworldly relief at seeing the world in all its normality again. Thorin saw her, becoming as stiff as a board, stubbornly using his sword as means of an anchor to pull himself up. His arms visibly trembled from the strain he put on himself. A little ways from the tips of his boots, she caught the familiar grooves of an oaken branch sprawled out on the ground. The oakenshield.
She shook her head, limping her way for Thorin with the intention of helping him lie low until one of the eagles―
CAW.
That sounded awfully close. Rue peered up at the sky, mouth opening in a silent O. An eagle was coming for them, golden-brown feathers ruffling in the onset of a breeze caused by the flapping of so many wings. One eagle―wait, more like four more eagles flew in and out of the riverbank, catching Dwarves in their talons while pecking and killing Wargs and Orcs.
But still, despite the realization the eagles were on their side, since they were Team Gandalf, Rue was terrified. All she could see were daunting claws and a razor-sharp beak coming closer and closer.
She pursed her lips. Thorin caught her eye. In a flash, she was gasping as the bird snatched up Thorin. He hadn't grabbed his oaken branch…
His expression turned into a contemptuous scowl. Thorin attempted to stay on solid ground, roaring, "TAKE THE WOMAN FIRST YOU IDI―"
Thorin's words were lost to the wind as the eagle carried him away. Relief flooded her bones. At least Thorin, Gimli, and Fili were all safe. Heck―she cast a quick glance at the grassy shore―they were all gone except for Bilbo who was sitting up after having been knocked silly by Azog's ugly Warg. Moments later, he was saying something along the lines of "Wait" or "No." An eagle swept Bilbo up, the Hobbit screaming in terror as he was tangled in talons one second, and then being dropped the next from up above. Another eagle flew right under Bilbo, catching him so he was astride the bird's back.
Rue swallowed hard. With an awkward hobble, she forced herself to stumble-half-run for Thorin's oakenshield. He'd never say it, but that oaken branch meant a lot to him. And Rue would be damned if she didn't get it for him. If there was one thing she could do right, it would be this. God only knew she couldn't do anything else right. Rue had told herself she'd keep Thorin safe, but look what had happened. A Warg had chewed on him, not to mention nearly beheaded by Azog's legions of Hells Angels.
She bent down, picking up the oaken branch, hugging it to her chest, clenching the wood for dear life.
That was when one eye met hers…Crap…
Rue froze on the spot, realizing she was the only one here and―
"Wait for me!" She desperately cried, attempting to jump so the eagles would see her, so they wouldn't forget her. The stupid jump only hurt her thigh. Rue winced in pain, one hand resting on her knee as she panted these fearful, shallow breaths.
Azog smiled toothily at her, swinging one leg off his Warg, grunting in that ugly-sounding language of his. His one eye honed in on her like she was from the line of Durin or something. Okay, that was a completely insensitive analogy. In last minute desperation, Rue looked to the sky, where a line of eagles flew in a flock, soaring into the horizon. They really had forgotten about her…
Every one of Rue's little hairs stood on end. Goose bumps slithered up her arms. She was going to die. Azog was going to murder her and―
Without warning, she felt claws gently dig into her shoulder blades. Then she was being lifted from the ground. Rue's feet dangled in mid-air as she flew higher and higher. Shooting a glance up, a shit-eating grin broke across Rue's face. An eagle flew triumphantly above her, majestic eyes narrowing at the distance.
They were flying. Rue was actually alive.
Below, leafy treetops and snow peaked mountains loomed in the distance. The sky was turning a peculiar shade of pink―red-orange hues painting the sky as dawn broke out. Flashes of sunlight beat against Rue's face. She smiled, kicking her uninjured leg like she was on some roller-coaster ride, daring to look down again. A sprawling river snaked its way through a valley. Mountains veiled by cloudy-like mists thundered around them. They were actually flying past or through the Misty Mountains. Rue wasn't sure. Strenuous minutes passed, minutes both anguishing and liberating. So many thoughts, so many worries plundered through Rue's head. Were Thorin and Fili going to live? Was Bilbo okay? What about Kili? Had Bombur managed to find his bro and cousin? Was Gloin going to tie Gimli up this time and force him to stay in a safe zone? No matter how many different thoughts reeled in Rue's mind, she couldn't help but quiver at the thought of―of―there being nothing they could do for Thorin and Fili.
The beating of melodious wing-beats echoed. Rue allowed herself to grin for what might have been the final time. Because if Thorin died―Don't think it. Her gaze fell below, to a rock looming nearby, reminding her of some Godsend in the form of freaking pride rock.
Her heart sank, felt broken into a million pieces at the vision of a lifeless Thorin, of the most fearsome man she had ever met, brought to his deathbed thanks to a stupid Warg bite. Rue steeled herself, refusing to bawl. She had to be strong. For Fili.
For Thorin.
Author's Note: So what do you think of the changes? Some changes were completely rash since I love writing action. I know I drew the action out for long, but I really, really enjoy writing about characters running for their lives ;) Click that review button and let me know what you think. You can also visit my Tumblr for the inclusion of lyrics in this chapter if you missed them!
TheHobbitFanatic: Thanks for reviewing :) Glad you think this is awesome. So do you think Gandalf would be able to see your perverted thoughts LOL? Like about Thorin? Would Gandalf feel weird seeing a naked Thorin in many of our heads LOL? Not sure where this topic came from!
Thanks again :)
Lalaithiel: You flail your arms in excitement when I update? So cool! Here are lots of hearts for you 33333 Thanks for reviewing :)
Coolo: Thanks for reviewing! Evil cliffhanger writer is a new name I haven't been called before ;) This is your favorite story? Awe, shucks. You get keyboard smashing jkjdeeiueiewnwksn and 333333.
Thanks again :D
ThePJOLover: Thanks for reviewing and for giving a 3 out to this story! Lots of 333 from me to you :)