Well, here is that dreaded chapter 30! The one that gave me such fits. It appears I am a lover, not a fighter. ha ha. Hope you like it.
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And congratulations to inperfection for being my 500th reviewer,
as well as readergirl4985 for sending in my 600th review!
Thank you ALL so much for getting me this far!
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Dwarf Words:
Baruk khazad ai-menu! = The axes of the dwarves are upon you!
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Chapter 30
~X~
The small army from Erebor had traveled far that day, hoping to arrive before the descending orcs and protect the small band of hobbits. They had no way of knowing if any of the wood-elves had accompanied them, or if they had continued on alone, yet they dared not risk it. Time was of the essence and lives were more than likely at stake.
Much to Fili's dismay, as they crested a small hill, they saw that their worst fears had come to pass…the orcs had moved faster than expected! At that very moment the filthy rabble was bearing down upon the small encampment of Shire folk, who were currently backed against the River Running. Thankfully, Bilbo and his company seemed aware of the danger, and had positioned all their wagons to form a makeshift barricade that was meant to stall the orcs - even if there was no way to stop them.
From where he sat, astride his pony, Fili's heart leapt with joy when he spied a tall grey cloaked figure among the hobbits. Gandalf! Perhaps the little caravan was not as unprotected as they had originally believed, for the battle-proven wizard's presence was a blessing indeed. He could also just make out their old friend, Mister Baggins, positioned at the head of their group, glowing sword drawn and ready to fend off the approaching hoard. Yet, even with Gandalf standing beside them, the hobbits were hopelessly outnumbered, and their bravery and quick wit would not protect them for long.
"Baruk khazad ai-menu!" Fili shouted, the battle cry quickly taken up by Kili and Dwalin, followed by the entire company of dwarves. As one, they all raced forward, the noise they made causing the orcs to pause in their tracks and look towards their advancing doom. The crown prince did not have time to see if the wizard and the hobbits had also spotted them, or to assess if their numbers were far superior to those of their enemy. All he could think about now was winning…that was the only thing that mattered at the moment, for the alternative was…well, unthinkable.
As the dwarves and the orcs came together in a clash of swords, axes and bows, Fili's mind went into battle mode. He was aware that Kili was at his right, and Dwalin on his left, but before him was a host of orcs, all in need of killing. As expected, the two brothers worked in unison, each protecting the other as they swung their swords left and right. Kili had managed to take out a particularly large orc that had moved in on Fili's blind spot, while Fili threw one of his many daggers, burying it hilt deep into the chest of an enemy wishing to sever his brother's head from his shoulders. And whatever the two princes missed…well, Dwalin happily picked up the slack. They truly were a well-trained fighting team.
Yet, it would be a difficult battle, and if victory was to be theirs, he would need to expend all the strength he had. Still, in the very corners of his mind, he held on to the vision of Sier at their parting. The way she had looked, the almost tearful smile she had given him, and her tender plea…begging him to come home safe to her. And that was exactly what he planned on doing.
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As the gray wizard stood there, between the oncoming orcs and a dozen or so frightened hobbits, Gandalf could not describe how elated he was when the army of dwarves had appeared on the hillside. His keen eyes recognized Fili, Kili, and Dwalin right away, and he quickly assured his companions that the tide had turned in their favor. Yet there was little time for celebration, as the first wave of attackers came over the small wagons, weapons bared and seeking their deaths. Glamdring sliced through the air and the first of many orc heads fell to the ground, staining the green grass with the sickening black color of their enemy's blood. To his right he saw Bilbo take down the next one…and so it continued.
Many foes had fallen and many others injured, by the time the two princes and the war-chief of Erebor, made their way to the hobbit's barricade. They were relieved to see Gandalf and Bilbo apparently unharmed and still fighting, but what surprised them was the fact that the other hobbits seemed to be holding their own just as well. They were a sturdy folk, to be sure.
"Master Baggins!" Kili called out as he leapt over one of the wagons, notching an arrow and letting it loose just in time to take down an orc who was approaching Bilbo from behind. The grateful hobbit smiled and waved in gratitude as he turned his attention to the next combatant heading right for him. Placing themselves back to back, Kili and Bilbo continued the fight, each one offering the other a measure of protection, while also allowing them the ability to converse.
"Wonderful timing, I must say, Kili, my lad!" Bilbo complimented as Sting bit into the flesh of another orc. "We were certain we would have to handle this whole mess alone."
"What?" Kili asked with a voice of shock. "And let the Shire folk have all the fun? Never!"
This caused Bilbo to let out a laugh, though at the moment there seemed nothing to be humorous over. Yet, the once shy and innocent hobbit, found that he had missed the jovial nature of the two dwarf princes, and it felt good to be in their company once again. Even if it was in the middle of a raging battle.
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Fili had just taken out several orcs when he was forced to roll to the ground, barely avoiding a large ax that had been thrown his direction. As he lay there for a moment, watching the deadly weapon vibrate back and forth after embedding itself into the wagon just above him, the prince became aware of three sets of eyes staring at him. A small group of hobbits were huddled beneath the makeshift barricade - a male, a female…and a little brown haired child! Fili could not help but stare at the wide and terror filled eyes of the smallest Shireling, his mind easily conjuring up the image of Flinn. This lad could not be any older than his own son, and here he was, caught in the middle of all this madness!
"Are you all right?" he asked, crawling closer as he inspected the trio. The male, apparently the husband and father, nodded his head, holding up a sword in his shaking hand.
"Can…can I be of service?" he asked, offering to fight, yet looking over at his wife and son with great concern.
"I think you are best served here, defending your family," Fili assured him, fearful that the two be left unprotected. "Remain concealed and do not come out until the fighting is over…do you hear?" When they all nodded in understanding, he turned and gave the little lad a quick wink, hoping to allay some of his obvious fears. Then, rolling out and away from their hiding place, Fili leapt to his feet and raced back into the battle.
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Dwalin too had made his way into the circle of fighting hobbits, doing his best to shield the much less trained halflings from the oncoming swarm. The orcs were a spindly bunch, poorly armed and far less organized than the ones they had fought in the past, yet an orc was an orc…and in the end they were dangerous. He did a quick count of the hobbits he could see, possibly ten or more from the looks of them, though he could not be sure. Most appeared to be young males, younger than Bilbo, but perhaps a few of his age or older. Still, not a company that could have withstood a hundred orcs or more, so he was glad they had arrived in time. Dwalin had just turned to remove his ax, which was currently imbedded in the neck of the enemy he had just felled, when he heard a voice yell from behind him.
"Get down!"
Obeying instantly, Dwalin did as commanded, feeling the air just above his head being disturbed by the slice of a long wooden staff. It was followed by the sound of a loud crack, as it connected with the head of an orc that had managed to sneak up on his left side. Watching it fall to the ground, unconscious or dead, he did not care which, Dwalin turned to thank his rescuer, only to stare slack jawed at a sight the old warrior never thought to behold.
"That one almost took that handsome, bald head of yours clean off!" the lovely hobbit dam informed him, placing her staff back in battle ready position, preparing for the next foe. "What say we try and keep it on those broad shoulders of yours, shall we? At least until we have a moment or two for proper introductions."
Dwalin did not respond, save only for a nod and to spin around to take out an approaching orc. She called me handsome, he mused to himself. And what a pretty lass she was too! Not young…no, but not old either, not by a long shot. She had the loveliest brown eyes he had ever seen, with tawny hair piled into a disheveled bun on the top of her head, which only added to her appeal. She was not shy about using that staff either, nor did she appear the type to cower in fear when danger presented itself. And as he whirled to the left and right, his axes seeking vengeance with each swing…Dwalin kept the little warrior maid always in his sights, eager for the moment that he could indeed be properly introduced.
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Fili found himself in a tight spot, surrounded by four large and nasty looking orcs. In hindsight, they were all rather ugly looking, but for some reason these particular ones appeared extra vile. Perhaps it was the fact that they were all growling and pointing swords at him, each one itching to spill his royal blood. Well, this will not do at all, Fili thought to himself. Especially when he had a lovely wife and an adorable son anticipating his return back in Erebor. And so, amid a roar of rage, he charged them all, his twin blades slicing through both armor and flesh as he took out all he could. Unfortunately, the final one managed to deliver a blow to his chest with a heavy mace, throwing him backwards to land on the ground with all the wind knocked from his lungs. He tried to rise in time, but when he looked up, he could see the instrument of his certain death being raised above the orc's head, ready to descend with the kill stroke. Yet it never came. Instead the nasty creature froze, a look of shock and pain crossing his face, just before he fell to the grass right next to Fili…stone cold dead, with an arrow sticking out of his back.
Fili looked around, expecting to see the smiling face of his little brother, yet apparently he owed his salvation to another. Standing not far away, with her bow still raised, was a hobbit lass of medium stature, with grass green eyes and a curly mop of dark brown hair framing her face. She gave him a jaunty salute, before reloading her weapon and losing another arrow into the oncoming orcs. Fili made a point to thank her for the assistance, once this was all over…assuming they both still lived.
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War of any kind is never a pretty thing, nor is it a pleasant subject to relate in tales and songs. Though when it was over, the orcs were defeated, and thankfully there had been no fatalities among the dwarves or hobbits. There were injured, to be sure, and some more gravely than others, but victory was theirs…even if it had been hard won. Fili himself had gained a few more cuts that would eventually leave a scar or two, and he could see that Dwalin and Kili fared pretty much the same. Yet they would survive…they would heal.
Fili ordered his troops to sift through the slain, making sure none lingered alive, and then to pile the bodies for disposal. A handful of the hobbits went in search of their ponies that had been frightened off by the marauding orcs, while some of the dwarves helped them right their wagons and reorganize their cargo which had been spilled or scattered during the battle.
At last, bloody and weary, Fili, Kili and Dwalin came face to face with Gandalf and Bilbo, for the first time in ten long years.
"Hail and well met, our dear, dear friends," Fili greeted them, extending his hand to the Grey Wizard, while Bilbo he engulfed in a warm hug. "It has been a long time."
"Almost too long," Gandalf laughed, as he was next greeted by Kili and Dwalin. "A few more minutes and the next time we met would have been in the waiting halls of Mandos!"
"As if they would suffer to house one as ill-tempered and crotchety as you, Gandalf," Kili laughed, ribbing the wizard good-naturedly.
"Just as they would undoubtedly expel such a cheeky dwarf as you, Kili, prince of Erebor," the grey wizard retaliated with a glint in his eye.
"Well, regardless of when you came, we are simply glad that you did!" Bilbo interjected, halting the friendly banter. "We had just started making camp for the night when our lookout spotted them sneaking out of the trees. We would have surely perished if you had not come."
"Thorin sent us with the express purpose of bringing you safely to Erebor," Fili announced, happy that he would now be able to fulfill his uncle's orders. "And I think we all know that the King Under the Mountain is not to be disobeyed."
"He has not changed then?" Bilbo asked, humor shining in his eyes.
"Actually, you would be surprised, Master Baggins," Fili laughed, thinking on how much his uncle had indeed mellowed. "Yet, I would not dare to be the one to test that theory."
Just then one of the dwarves approached and informed Fili that they were setting up a makeshift tent for healing, and that all those in need of medical attention should congregate there.
"Do you need assistance?" came the voice of an approaching hobbit. "My wife and I are trained in herb lore, and have some skill in healing."
Fili turned to look at the couple who had stepped forward, recognizing them as the family he had met under the wagon during the battle. He was greatly pleased to see that all three appeared well, without a scratch on them. It was then that Fili noticed that the male, who had spoken up, looked quite a bit like a younger version of Bilbo himself.
"Allow me to introduce my distant cousin, Drogo Baggins. He is my grandfather's, brother's, son's son." Bilbo said, his dizzying explanation of their lineage leaving the dwarves trying to muddle it out in their minds. "This is his wife, Primula and their son, Frodo."
"We would be most grateful for your assistance in tending the wounded, Master and Mistress Baggins," Fili told them with a bow from the waist.
With a quick nod, Primula turned and handed a reluctant Frodo off to the arms of another lass, the very one who had aided Fili with her quick and well-aimed arrow, as a matter of fact. The two hobbits then followed the other dwarf to where they were gathering those in need of healing.
"And may I next acquaint you with two more of our company," Bilbo proceeded, gesturing to an older hobbit lass with her hands still wrapped around a long wooden staff, and the younger one holding little Frodo. "This is Bergamot Bracegirdle, and Marigold Brandybuck, aunt and niece in their own right, but the latter is also niece to Drogo's wife, Primula. So in a way, I would guess they are shirttail relatives of mine, though it would take me a while to chart out the exact family connections."
"Something I am sure would be best left to less stressful times, Bilbo," Bergamot laughed, causing everyone there to nod in agreement. Gandalf had often said that a hobbit would happily sit on the edge of ruin and relate the insignificant doings of their mothers, fathers and great uncles to the ninth degree, if one were foolish enough to encourage them. "And now that they know our names, might you do us the courtesy of knowing what your dwarf friends call themselves?"
"How rude of me," Bilbo chided himself, turning now to the three dwarves. "It is my immense privilege to introduce Prince Fili, his brother, Prince Kili, and their esteemed cousin, and my dear friend, Lord Dwalin."
"You can drop the Lord nonsense. Dwalin will do just fine," the old warrior interjected, never having taken to the titles that Thorin had bestowed upon them after taking Erebor.
"Well then, Dwalin," Bergamot responded, allowing her eyes to roam over the dwarf from head to toe. "What say we dispense with the formalities entirely, and you just call me Bergie. Seeing as how we are already well acquainted, having been battle mates and all."
The boldness of the lass, and her interesting choice of words, caused both Fili and Kili to stare at their war-chief with raised eyebrows, a hint of a smile playing at both their lips. Wait, was Dwalin…blushing?
"And I believe that I owe you a debt of gratitude as well, Miss Marigold," Fili said, almost unwilling to tear his eyes away from the heated looks being exchanged between their friend and the other hobbit female. Yet the prince stepped forward, placing his hand over his heart and bowing low to the little archer who had saved his life. "I shall forever be in your service, my lady."
"I was happy to be of assistance, master dwarf," the feisty lass assured him, more than pleased to have been able to offer aid. "Besides, if you had not come when you did, I am certain I would not have been around in order to save anyone. Your coming was greatly appreciated, and I look forward to thanking your gracious king for sending you to our rescue."
"King Thorin will be most pleased to make your acquaintance, I am sure," the crown prince guaranteed her.
"And all of Erebor will be blessed by the presence of one as lovely and brave as yourself, dear lady," Kili added, flashing her one of his cheeky grins.
"My, my," Bilbo said with an amused chuckle. "Who would have thought that the two of you could develop such fine manners in only a decade?"
"A lot has happened since we last parted, Master Baggins," Fili laughed, thinking back on the young and foolish lads they had been on the journey. "Quite a lot indeed."
"Fili is even married, and has a son!" Kili was only too happy to announce, enjoying the looks of shock that came over both Bilbo and Gandalf's faces.
"Married?" Gandalf gasped…and really, it took a lot to startle a wizard.
"With a son?" reiterated the equally stunned hobbit. "When…how? And why was I not invited to the wedding?"
"It is a very long and drawn out story, I assure you," Fili told them, feeling the temperature rise in his face as all eyes were now trained on him. "And like Miss Bergamot said…"
"Bergie, lad," she broke in, once again offering the shorter version of her name. "Call me Bergie."
"Yes…of course," he chuckled, giving her a nod of his head. "As Bergie said, that is a tale best left for less stressful times."
"Do such times exist?" Bilbo asked with a raise of his eyebrow and a twitch of his nose. "For I seem to have found those in short supply ever since I opened my door to find Mister Dwalin standing on the other side, ready to invade my home…and my dinner!"
"And a right puny plate of fish and vegetables it was too," the older dwarf laughed, recalling the hobbit's annoyance at having his little hole in the ground overrun with dwarves.
"Ahhh, I sense more than one story on the horizon," Bergie laughed, once more giving the bald and tattooed warrior a brazen wink of her eye.
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Meanwhile, back in Erebor, Dis and Sier stood on the battlement, looking south, having waited until the last raven had taken roost.
"There will be no further word tonight," Dis concluded, bowing her head as she guided her daughter-in-law back inside. "We will have to wait until morning to hear any news."
"How do you do it, Dis?" Sier asked, her stricken face pale and like stone. "How can you even function knowing that the ones you love are out there, fighting, maybe even…" she could not bring herself to finish that sentence.
"It is the life I was born into," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Though that does not make it any easier. You hope for the best, and wait with your heart in your throat, praying you will be proven right. And then you steel yourself for the next time they must go out to fight." She then gave the forlorn looking dam a warm hug. "But Fili and Kili are strong, brave warriors…and Dwalin is there to see that they don't take any foolish risks. Don't worry…they will all come home safe."
"I…I should go find Flinn," Sier mumbled, feeling the need to hold her little one in her arms.
"Leave him with Thorin a bit longer," Dis suggested. "My brother is the stoic type, but under it all, he feels just as deeply as the next. Having Flinn to keep his mind occupied is a good thing. And we should go and see if there is anything we can do to help with last minute preparations for the hobbits' rooms. The best thing for us right now is to keep our hands busy, and not dwell on what we cannot change."
"I…I just wish there had been more time," Sier lamented. "There is so much I want to tell him, so many things I should have said."
"You will get the chance, I promise," Dis assured her. She then looked deeply into her companion's eyes. "Might I assume what you wish to say…is a good thing?"
"I hope it will be seen as such," she nodded, knowing that there was always a chance Fili might not feel the same way.
"Sier…I have watched you and my son dance around each other for far too long," Dis told her, her tone both serious and almost pleading. "If there is something on your mind, or in your heart, I beg you to tell him and see what his answer might be. You may find yourself pleasantly surprised." She then slipped her arm around her shoulder and began to lead her down the hall once more. "Now, let us fill our minds with the requirements of hobbits. I don't know about you, but I for one am greatly looking forward to meeting these folks from the Shire. From what I have heard, they are most fascinating! I mean, they would have to be for this Bilbo Baggins to have won such admiration from my obstinate brother!"
Her little joke had the desired effect, and as the two dams headed deeper into the mountain, at least they each wore a little smile on their faces.
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Meanwhile, locked away in his study, Thorin sat at his desk, staring at a stack of papers, but not really seeing them. Flinn kneeled on a chair, stacked high with pillows, at his side, drawing pictures on a blank piece of parchment as they shared the silence. They had been this way for almost an hour, both being comforted by the presence of the other. Finally, Flinn held up his drawing for his uncle to see.
"That is very well done, Flinn," Thorin nodded, taking the picture and leaning back in his chair as he examined it closely. "I see you…your adad, your ama, and is this Kili?" he asked, pointing at an oddly shaped stick figure that looked to be holding a bow and arrow. When Flinn nodded in the affirmative, he continued on. "Is this one here your N'anad Dis…and the other one me?"
"Yes, it is all of us, together again when Adad and Uncle Kili come home," Flinn told him, sliding from his own chair as he crawled up into Thorin's lap, leaning back against his chest as they stared at the picture together. Suddenly, out of the blue, Flinn startled him with a question. "Uncle Thorin…where is your adad?"
"My adad?" he asked, having to swallow once or twice before he felt he could continue. "My father, Thrain, is gone, Flinn. He died a long time ago in a very terrible battle." Yet seeing where the dwarfling's mind might take this information, he quickly added, "Yet that does not mean that your father will meet the same fate. Fili is strong, and you know he is a fine warrior. He will come home."
"Do you miss your adad?" Flinn continued, apparently having a one track mind.
"Every day," Thorin nodded, running his fingers through the lad's hair. "Especially when I have a hard decision to make, and I could greatly use his advice. He was a very wise dwarf, one who could always see the solution to any problem, often when no one else could. I think it was my brother Frerin who inherited that skill from him, not me."
"You have a brother?" Flinn asked, his eyes growing wide as he turned in his seat and stared up at his uncle.
"I had a brother, yes," he nodded. "But he too is now gone." Tonight was probably not the time to be speaking of those who were now in the halls of waiting, but Thorin was proud of his little brother, and he wanted Flinn to know about him. "Frerin was the best little brother a dwarf could have. Brave, loyal, and with an infectious laugh that could pull you out of even the worst of moods. He and I were very close, and your N'anad Dis and I loved him very much. Your Uncle Kili reminds me a lot of him."
"Who does my adad remind you of?" Flinn asked next.
"Besides you?" Thorin laughed, tapping his great-nephew on the tip of his nose. "I would say he greatly favors your Ugmil'adad, the one for whom you were named," Thorin smiled. "Your grandfather and my brother Frerin were great friends and sword-brothers. Not only do you and Fili take after him in looks, your adad reminds me of him more and more each day, by the way he acts and carries himself. He was a great brother-in-law, a good friend, and he loved his wife and both his sons beyond reason. I am certain he would have absolutely adored you."
"But he went to war too, and never came back," Flinn said in a quiet voice, casting his eyes downward.
"Flinn…I won't lie to you, sometimes bad things happen, and the ones we love do not always come home," Thorin told him. "But, that does not mean that this will happen to your adad, or your Uncle Kili…do you understand? We have to have faith that they will come back, not give up hope, and never let them know we doubted them. Do you think your adad would want you sitting around worrying about him, being sad like this?"
"No," he answered, sniffling a little as he used the back of his sleeve to wipe at his nose.
"Of course not," the king agreed. "He would want you to be happy, and stay busy planning the Durin's Day celebration. Can you do that? Not be sad, for him?"
"I…I think so," Flinn nodded, trying to appear brave. "But…do you know what might make it easier to be happy…for adad?"
"What is that?"
"Some sweets from the kitchen," Flinn suggested, giving his uncle a sly little grin.
"You know what, my lad...I think you are right!" Thorin agreed, bringing his palm down on the table with a slap of approval. "Let's go find us some treats!"
"Yaaayyy!" Flinn squealed, wrapping his arms around Thorin's neck and giving him a big kiss on his cheek.
So how was my battle scene? I was trying for not too gory, but entertaining and somewhat exciting.
FYI...I KNOW that Frodo was technically not born for another 17 years...but...but...this is MY story and I wanted him to come to Erebor! (Sam's dad has not even married his mom yet, and Merry and Pippen are not even gleams in their father's eyes either...far too young)
But who is this Bergie Bracegirdle and what is she doing to poor Dwalin?
And Marigold Brandybuck...what do you think her story is? (Don't worry, she will NOT be going after Fili, ha ha)
Did you like Sier and Dis' talk. How about Thorin and Flinn's little heart-to-heart about Thrain, Frerin and Flinn Sr.?
Do you all feel better now...no deaths, no big injuries...all is well, and hobbits will soon inhabit Erebor!
Guest Reviews:
mjean: ha ha, flattery works well for just about everything...but even I can't force those two into bed so they start making dwarflings...oh, wait...I kind of already DID that! ha ha. Well, at least Bina did. And sorry, but no, Dwalin does not say your line...but it IS in the next chapter. Look for it. And thank you for allowing any baby of theirs to have dark hair if I do so choose, ha ha. As for eye color...that remains to be 'seen' ha ha. Bad joke, I know. And thank you VERY much for your kind words about my writing. They are most appreciated.
Laura En Ery: And what do you mean by ACTION? As in battle, or in the bedroom? ha ha. And yes, it IS about time for Fili and Sier to figure things out! Thanks for the review.
Robyn: ha ha, you were anxious to read the chapter that was giving me fits? I would think you would rather read one that flowed nicely and practiacly wrote itself. ha ha. (but there has only been a few of THOSE, ha ha) Yes, Flinn was very sad to see is adad go away. And as for Fili's homecoming reaction...you will just have to wait and see. hee hee. Thanks for your wonderful review.