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FYI - in this chapter when you see ~XXX~ that means the start and end of a flashback. OK?
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Chapter 173
~X~
It didn't take Dwalin long to hunt down the three hobbits he felt needed to be informed of this new and shocking development. In fact, he found Drogo and Prim visiting Bergie in his own chambers, the three old friends laughing and talking over a pot of tea and some biscuits. When Dwalin came storming in, the two youngens in tow, they all looked up at him in curiosity. Yet when he went on to explain how he had found the two, and what they had been doing, instead of being outraged like he had been…the three jumped up and began to hug and congratulate the two.
"Wait one sodding minute!" Dwalin bellowed, irritated that he appeared to be the only one taking this seriously. "You're all just willing to hand over your approval just like that? With no talk…no discussion…no nothing?"
"Of course, my love," Bergie said with a smile. "What can be better than young love…and I couldn't have chosen a finer bride for my son than Holly." She then gave him a quizzical look. "Do you have some objections against the lass?"
"Against Holly?" Dwalin repeated in a shocked voice. "Of course not!"
"Then why are you so riled up?" his wife persisted.
"They're too young!" he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Torin is decades away from being an adult by dwarven standards!" He held up his hand to stop Bergie from breaking in, as it appeared she was going to. "And I know he's part hobbit, but that doesn't negate the fact that he still might not be ready to deal with such weighty emotions as these! Not for a good long time. And if he's not…will Holly wait? There are a million questions that need to be dealt with, and I appear to be the only one thinking straight here!"
"Dwalin," Bergie soothed, stepping forward and placing her hand on his arm, doing all she could to ease his temper. "Hobbits are not like dwarves…we do not meet our ones and instantly know they are to be our mates. Thus it is good that Torin and Holly spend time together…get to know each other, and find out if they are indeed compatible. No one says this is a done deal, but wouldn't it be nice if they were truly made for each other? And don't you think they deserve our support as they find out?"
"I…um…" was all Dwalin could reply.
"As I said, Adad," Torin broke in, wishing to reassure his father a bit more. "We know that we are still too young…but over the next ten years, I would very much like to court Holly with a view to matrimony," he explained. "For even if we are not ready to take such a momentous step at this time, I feel in my heart that when the time comes, she is the one I will be spending the rest of my life with."
"And how long will that life be?" Dwalin next pointed out. "Have the two of you discussed this? Being part dwarf could mean that you will live a lot longer than she. Is Holly prepared for that eventuality?"
"I will take as many, or as few, years at Torin's side as I am allotted," Holly said bravely, her chin coming up in stubbornness. "I am not afraid."
"And what do you two have to say about all this?" Dwalin asked, turning his attention to Drogo and Prim.
"Holly is our only daughter, as well as our baby," Drogo explained, his expression growing stern. "We do not take the idea of her giving her heart to anyone lightly. However, we also find Torin to be a fine lad, one with exemplary parentage, of good character, and who has only shown Holly his loyalty, friendship and devotion. I, of course, will not offer my official consent to anything until she comes of age, yet when she does, if she still wishes to bind herself to Torin…Prim and I have no objections."
"As simple as that?" Dwalin said with a look of shock.
"And why must things be otherwise?" Prim asked. "Not every romance needs to be wrought with obstacles and trials. Sometimes, love just happens." Here, Prim gazed up at Drogo, her eyes sparkling as if recalling their own courtship years ago.
"Please say you are happy for us, Adad," Torin begged, looking at his father as if his approval meant everything. "I know I'm not a full dwarf, and Mahal may never choose a one for me…but I choose Holly. She is all I will ever want, I just know it."
"Well…" Dwalin began, releasing a long sigh of resignation. "Since I can't seem to fight you all, and I honestly do think you picked yourself an exceptional lass…I suppose I see no need to forbid you two from courting. But no more going off alone! Is that understood? And if you wish to kiss her…it is to be done in public, where everyone can keep an eye on you!" He leaned over and pulled Bergie to his side. "I think your mother here can attest to what could easily happen to a dwarf when kissing becomes involved."
"Oh, stop, you big oaf," she giggled, wrapping her arms around him as she laughed at his antics. "Torin might be your son, but I would like to think he inherited my keen mind and sense of restraint. I don't think we have anything to worry about."
And while Dwalin wished he could believe his wife, one look at the way the two youngens were staring at each other made him think different. He might not be all wise when it came to matters of the heart…but even a war-weary, rough around the edges dwarf like him could tell love when he saw it. And right now, it was staring him straight in the face!
"Then all's settled," Drogo smiled, walking over and extending his hand to Dwalin in a gesture of friendship. "If they still share the same feelings when the time comes, I would be happy to welcome you and yours into our family. Shall we shake on it?"
Dwalin stared at the congenial hobbit for a few moments before he did indeed take his hand, giving it a firm shake.
"Aye, it's settled," he nodded with a sigh of defeat, figuring that all things considered, it could have been much worse.
"Well…except for perhaps one thing," Drogo mused, a sly grin spreading over his face.
"And what is that?" Dwalin asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
"How about you and I go find a tankard of ale," Drogo suggested, "And have a nice long talk about your dwarven tradition of the bride price?"
At the male hobbit's words, Dwalin closed his eyes and lowered his head in misery, causing both Bergie and Prim to burst out laughing
Apparently Dwalin had been very, very wrong…things just got worse.
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While it was agreed that this new development would be kept under wraps, it was not long before their small circle of friends became wise. After all, if Dwalin could easily identify the emotions surrounding the young couple, everyone else could as well. Balin was beside himself with joy, having long known that his brother's children were as close as he would ever get to having any of his own. And to see the spark of love in his nephew's eyes…well, it put more than a few tears in the sentimental old dwarrows eyes as well. Talin too was tickled for her brother, though being more dwarrowdam than hobbit herself, she still found the idea of the two of them kissing to be icky, scrunching up her face in disgust at the mere thought. Thankfully, Torin didn't mind, and only laughed at his sister's antics.
Oddly enough, it was Frodo who seemed to have the biggest objections to the match, though he did his best to keep his feelings hidden from all. However, Flinn, being able to read his friend better than most, was not fooled.
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"What do you have against Torin?" he asked him one day as the two of them lounged in the hay pile in the stables. They had come out to feed Storm some carrots, the old pony now way past his prime, and had been retired from service. He was well cared for though, having earned the respect and love from each member of the royal family ten times over.
"Nothing," Frodo assured him, taking a piece of hay and sticking it between his lips as he gazed up at the ceiling. "Tor's great."
"Then why are you not happy about him and Holly?" Flinn pressed, confused about his sword-brother's reaction.
"Because…well…she's my sister!" Frodo stammered, feeling rather foolish at how childish his reasons sounded. "I wanted a sibling for so long, that when she finally came…I promised myself I would always take care of her. And now…someone is trying to take her away!"
"It's not like he's kidnapping her," Flinn laughed, tossing a handful of hay at Frodo's head. "And come on…haven't you ever thought of falling in love yourself? Do you think Holly would be all bent out of shape if you found yourself a nice lass?"
"No…I guess not," he mumbled, brushing the dried grass out of his hair. "But what if he wants her to come live in Erebor with him? I don't want Holly to leave the Shire, and I'm sure our parents would miss her terribly if she does. I've seen how Master Rory looks whenever he thinks of how far away Marigold is. I don't want to see that look in my father's eyes…or my mother's."
"I can see your point there," Flinn agreed. "Erebor and the Shire are a long ways away. But we always manage to visit." He elbowed Frodo in the side, a wide grin spreading over his lips. "And really, you can't stop love…or so my Adad says. Apparently, there is a sweet young lass out there with my name already written on her heart, and I don't doubt there's one for you as well. We just need to keep our eyes open…well, maybe you more than me, since I'm still quite a long ways from being ready for such things. But you…well, you're nearly an adult!"
"I don't feel much like one," Frodo revealed, his cheeks turning a bit red.
"Maybe that's why we get on so well then," Flinn teased, though Frodo could hear a hint of fear in his tone. "You know…I always worried that once we began to grow up, that you would come to regard me only as some pesky child, while you started thinking of more adult matters…like dams."
"Never!" Frodo stated firmly. "You're my sword brother, Flinn…nothing will ever change that!"
"Not even if you find a fair hobbit maiden to love?" Flinn asked.
"Not even then! But even I have not really started looking, to tell you the truth. I mean, sure, girls are nice and all, and one day, maybe, I might fall in love…but I'm not sure I'm ready for marriage just yet. Deep inside, I still feel more like a kid, not wanting to worry about responsibilities and the like for a good long time. Does that make sense?"
"It does to me," Flinn smiled. "I mean, I can't imagine kissing any dam that's not my mother or my sister…and even that I'll only do if I have to!"
"Then how about you and I make a pact?" Frodo laughed. "That we leave love, marriage, and anything to do with females to the future…the very, very distant future, and just concentrate on fun things…like adventure!"
"Sounds good to me!" Flinn laughed, holding out his hand as he and the hobbit shook on it. "Now…since dams are officially out of our minds, what do you want to do now?"
"Let's head to the kitchens and see if we can sneak some of Bombur's sweets?" Frodo suggested, hopping to his feet with a look of excitement.
"You're always thinking of your stomach, aren't you?" Flinn laughed with a shake of his head.
"Better than thinking of girls!" he pointed out.
"Can't argue with you there," Flinn nodded, rising and brushing off the stray pieces of hay. "Race you there?"
"You're on!" Frodo yelled, as the two sprinted from the stables, laughing the whole way.
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Bilbo made the most of his visit in Erebor, fearing that due to the dangerous times, this could very well be the last time he ever traveled to the Lonely Mountain. It still boggled his mind that he had been among the few who had journeyed to reclaim the lost dwarf kingdom, having aided those he now regarded as true friends. As he made his way through the halls one day, he felt a smile of satisfaction cross his lips, that he, insignificant Bilbo Baggins, could truly have been a part of such a magnificent quest. Smaug had been a rather shocking surprise, not to mention the trolls and the spiders…as well as his little tumble in the goblin caves, but through it all Bilbo had come out braver and stronger.
He let his hand pat the small gold ring in his pocket, his most precious token from the journey, and something he knew he would never part with. It had been years since Bilbo had used it, the last time being when he was heading down the lane and saw Lobelia Sackville-Baggins storming towards him. That blasted old hag had probably been coming to chew his ear off about that silly tea set she claimed belonged to Lotho's great aunt Magdalena, one she insisted should have gone to them upon her death. If he thought it might truly make her go away and leave him alone, Bilbo would have gladly given her the tea set, as well as all the tea in his cupboards…but it was never that easy with Lobelia. And he knew if you gave her an inch, she would take a mile – and then some! So he had instead stepped behind a tree, slipped on the ring and snuck around her without being seen. Yet, other than small instances like that, Bilbo no longer had need to make use of the ring's powers of invisibility…not since the Battle of Five Armies.
His wanderings eventually led Bilbo to the battlement, overlooking the city of Dale, as well as Ravenhill to the left. And as if the years had suddenly melted away, his mind began to drift back to that fateful day…the day that Azog had tried to take the mountain.
~XXX~
"The Dwarves! They're rallying!" Bilbo gasped, racing across the small stone bridge in order to get a better look at what was going on at the mountain. For there he could see Thorin, flanked by Fili and Kili, as well as the rest of the company, racing out of the newly made entrance of Erebor. They appeared more fierce and determined than he had ever seen them, and he could feel a swell of pride in his chest at the sight. Thorin had overcome the gold sickness…he just knew it!
"They are rallying to their king," Gandalf said at his side, also wearing a look of joy on his tired face. The battle was already in full swing, with many having fallen on both sides, but the obvious renewal of the dwarve's fighting spirit at the addition of Thorin Oakenshield, could very well turn the tide for all.
Yet when Bilbo and Gandalf learned of the advancement of another army, one approaching from behind Ravenhill, the hobbit's blood turned cold. He had just witnessed Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin head in that direction, apparently set on taking out Azog. With the battle raging on, there seemed to be no way to get through the armies that blocked their way, so Bilbo took the task upon himself…knowing he could make it with the help of the ring.
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived at the top of the rocky cliffs, he found Thorin and Dwalin alone, with Fili and Kili having already gone off to scout the area. When they heard Bilbo's news of the approaching army, the two dwarves hurried across the frozen river, desperate to find the two brothers and bring them back to safety.
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"Shhhh," Fili hissed, placing his hand out to halt Kili in his tracks. They had been searching the tunnels that led to the abandoned aviaries used by the former Raven-Keepers, but so far they had not found hide nor hair of Azog or his orc goons. However, now, from deep within the rocks, they could hear the sound of drums…beating a low and steady cadence. "What's that?"
"I thought it was the sound of my heart about to beat out of my chest," Kili whispered, unable to mask the fear in his eyes.
"I can't tell where it is coming from," Fili growled, looking down one tunnel and then the next.
"Sounds like this way," Kili insisted, stepping around his brother in an effort to lead the way, but Fili held him back once more.
"No…you check below, see if they are hiding there…I'll go this way," he whispered. "But don't engage the enemy, just discover their location and report back…do you understand? I've got this."
Kili nodded, though gave Fili an odd look, as if trying to understand why his brother would suggest the two of them split up. They never separated, they always stuck together in a fight. Still, he trusted his brother without question…and so he went, turning and heading down the tunnel that led to the lower levels.
Fili gripped his twin swords, his knuckles already bloody and bruised from their earlier battle outside the gates. Still, his wounds were minor and he was not about to let a few little nicks slow him down. He had seen the question in Kili's eyes, and it hurt his heart to think that might be the final time he ever saw his little brother, should things here go ill. But Fili could tell that ahead was the danger, and he wanted his naddith as far away from that as possible. So taking a deep breath, Fili headed into the dark tunnel, hearing the sound of the drums grow ever louder.
He would sneak up on them, learn their location and strength and then high-tail it back to Thorin with his news…at least that had been the plan, until things went horribly, horribly wrong. And before the young prince knew what had happened, dozens of orcs had ambushed him, some from in front, while others swarmed the tunnels behind him, boxing him in with nowhere to run. As he felt the clubs, daggers and ropes strike his body, he lashed out, his twin swords spinning in every direction, taking down many, until he was completely overwhelmed. His last thoughts before being beaten to the ground were of Kili…and how glad he was that his brother had escaped.
The blows and kicks blessedly ceased, just before Fili had lost consciousness, yet as his bleary eyes opened and his gaze fell upon the reason for the reprieve…he almost wished he had kept them closed. Azog the Defiler stood before him, his towering white form sending shivers down the prince's spine. There would be no bargaining, no pleading for mercy with this foe. For this orc, this filthy, vile, killer wanted nothing more than to see his uncle and his entire line wiped from the face of Middle Earth. And here was Fili, battered, bruised, and without his weapons with which to defend himself…things did not look good.
"Ah…Oakenshield's heir," the pale orc spat out, a sinister smile spreading across his ugly face. "To watch this one die will break him." He then reached down and grabbed Fili by the throat, hauling him up as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll, a vicious smile on his face as he watched the dwarf dangle there.
Fili struggled as best he could, lashing out with as much strength as he had left, but it did little good. As if angered by his will to live, Azog slammed the dwarf down upon the rocks at his feet, the large orc delivering several punishing kicks to Fili's already bruised back and ribs, effectively putting an end to his struggles. Unfortunately, the dwarf prince was not even given a chance to catch his breath, before Azog roughly pulled him up once more by the back of his coat, dragging him forward. Fili desperately gasped for air, coughing up a bit of blood as his body rebelling against any effort to move. He could see spots forming before his eyes, and he fought to remain conscious, knowing that passing out now would only lead to never waking up again. Fili needed to find a way to escape…to live.
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Meanwhile, Kili had searched the lower levels, finding nothing but signs that orcs had been there…but were gone now. He was just heading for the exit, eager to find Fili and get back to Thorin when he heard the sound of a menacing voice from above, shouting out over the frozen river.
"Oakenshield!" came the cry that turned Kili's blood to ice.
Azog!
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Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo had heard it too, causing them all to freeze in their tracks and look up, the haze clearing just enough to see the pale orc stepping out towards the edge of the cliff…and they could see that he had something in his clutches.
"FILI!" Thorin yelled, his heart plummeting to the bottom of his chest as he recognized the blond dwarf as his nephew and heir…his Fili. "Please…no…" he whispered, unsure what he could do to save him.
Azog drug Fili closer, the young prince unable to right himself as his legs scrapped along the stone floor, until he was so near the edge that one slip would send him to his death.
"This one dies first," Azog threatened, pulling Fili up so that his feet no longer touched the ground. "Then the brother…then you, Oakenshield! You will die last."
Fili's chest burned with fire, knowing that several of his ribs had been broken by the Defiler's last blows, yet he sucked in enough air to cry out to Thorin, hoping his voice would carry.
"RUN!" he shouted, fearing more for his uncle and brother than himself. And then, just as he could feel the vile creature draw back the blade attached to his severed arm, Fili pulled two daggers from hidden pockets in his coat, and swung his arms back as hard as he was able, feeling the blades pierce flesh, even if just a little.
Azog let out a cry of pain and anger, his hold on Fili loosening just enough for the blond dwarf to wiggle free. Unfortunately, being held over the edge of the cliff when released, he began to fall straight down at an alarming rate. With a strength he did not realize he still possessed, Fili spun in midair, jamming his two blades into the rock face, sparks flying as the metal raked against stone, slowing his speed…though not stopping it. It was a long way down, and though he was no longer falling fast, he was unable to fully halt his deadly descent. At last, one of his daggers found purchase in a crack on the rock wall, allowing him to hang there, suspended like a coat on a hook. He dropped the other blade, grabbing onto the one that held him, his teeth gritting from the pain it cost to do so. Yet, now that he was no longer in danger of crashing to the ground, the orcs above jumped into action, pulling out their bows and aiming their deadly missiles directly at his head.
"FILI!" Thorin cried, taking a few halting steps closer, yet still unable to get to him in time.
Thankfully, he was not the only one who had seen Fili fall, and suddenly an arrow came from below, embedding itself between the eyes of the orc that held the bow. As the vile creature fell past Fili, everyone saw Kili come racing into view. Another arrow, followed by yet another, came from Kili's bow as the orcs drew back, unwilling to remain in range as the dwarf archer protected his brother. Yet one enemy would not give up, and Azog's voice rang out loud and clear.
"OAKENSHIELD!" he bellowed. "Face me, you dwarf coward! Face me or we kill your little pup."
Thorin knew the beast would not hesitate, even if it meant leaping off the cliff himself and dragging Fili to his death. And if fighting Azog bought Fili a few more minutes – minutes that might mean the difference between life and death – he would gladly do so.
"We finish this…NOW!" Thorin growled, pointing his sword at Azog in challenging gesture.
This pleased the pale orc, and he began a slow march down the stone steps that led to the base of the frozen river about a hundred meters to Thorin's left.
"Thorin…don't!" Dwalin hissed. "He's goading you."
"Go…save Fili," Thorin ordered, his tone as cold as the ice he now stood on. "Save Fili and Kili…protect them at all cost. I will deal with Azog, once and for all!" And placing his hands on both Dwalin and Bilbo's shoulders, he gave them a nod of gratitude…and then headed straight for the approaching orc.
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"Fili! Hold on!" Kili called, unwilling to put down his bow, for fear another orc might appear over the cliff's edge and take aim at his dangling brother.
"I…I'm trying…" Fili gasped, his ribs screaming out in pain as he struggled to retain his grip. Yet the mixture of blood and sweat coating his palms left him unsure about how much longer he could keep his hold.
Kili was frantic, his eyes darting around for something…anything that could aid his brother. But there was nothing!
"KILI…I…I'm slipping!" Fili shouted, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth as he felt his grasp sliding down the hilt bit by bit. It would only be seconds more, and then he would taste the cold hard ground, and knowing how high he still was…it was not going to be pleasant. He could only hope that he died on impact, for the idea of lying there broken and bleeding, his last moments in agony, did not appeal to him one bit. He did regret that Kili would witness it all…that he would be forced to watch as his body struck the rocks, his lifeless eyes staring up at him in death. But unfortunately that was not within Fili's control to prevent, no matter how much he wished it to be. And then he felt it…his last bit of hold breaking lose, and he began to fall.
Thankfully, Kili was now not the only one waiting below, and though a dwarf plummeting to the ground was not something one wished to be struck with…all three of them – Kili, Dwalin and Bilbo, reached out in an attempt to break his fall. And somehow, miraculously, they did!
As Fili's body came into contact with flesh and bone, instead of solid rock, and only the wind was knocked out of him instead of his life, he couldn't believe his good fortune. That is until he heard those beneath him let out a low and plaintive moan of pain.
"I swear it, laddie," Dwalin grunted. "If we live though this, you are losing about ten stones! Do you hear me?"
"Whatever you say, Dwalin…whatever you say," Fili sighed, more than happy to do anything his older cousin asked.
"Fili…are you all right?" was Kili's first words, as he pulled himself out from under his brother and began to check him over for broken bones or other injuries.
"I…I think so," the blond prince nodded, clutching his midsection as he rolled off of Dwalin and Bilbo, eyeing the dazed little hobbit as Erebor's war chief got to his feet. "Bilbo? Bilbo can you hear me?"
"The eagles…" the dazed burglar murmured, his eyes gazing up at the sky as if he had been knocked silly.
"No, Bilbo…the eagles flew us to the Carrock," Kili told him, thinking the hobbit was dreaming. "But that was a long time ago."
"No…look," he muttered again, this time raising his arm and pointing skyward, where indeed the sky grew dark as the feathered army blocked out the sun. "The eagles are coming!"
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All of this, of course, went unnoticed by Thorin, who was now in mortal combat with Azog, the two of them facing off in a death-match that had been a long time in coming. Thorin owed the pale orc a lifetime of revenge, starting with the beheading of his grandfather, Thrór at the battle of Azanulbizar. Then the death of his little brother, Frerin near the east gates of Moria the same day. And lastly…his own father, Thráin, who, driven mad with grief, raced headlong into battle, only to be taken by the enemy and never seen or heard from again. For all this, and so much more, Thorin wished to exercise his rage upon Azog. To make him pay in blood for each life he had stolen from the sons of Durin…for each lost soldier, each fallen father, friend, brother and son.
And so the battle raged on, the two of them slicing at each other as if there were no tomorrow…and for one of them, perhaps even both, there wouldn't be. For a brief moment, Thorin had thought he had won, as he tossed the large stone attached to a chain that Azog had been hurling at him into his arms, causing the ice to crack and the beast to slip beneath the frozen river. Yet when he floated down stream, beneath the dazed figure of Thorin, the foul beast struck out with his blade, impaling the dwarf through the ice, his boot, and foot, wrenching a cry of agony from the king's throat.
With a deafening crash, Azog broke through the frozen barrier, leaping up as he brought this arm-blade across Thorin's chest, slicing through leather and skin. Caught off guard, the dwarf king stumbled backwards, slipping on the frozen water and falling onto his back in pain. As the foul orc raised his weapon, driving it downward towards Thorin's chest, he somehow managed to bring Orcrist up, holding it sideways as his only means of keeping Azog's prosthetic blade from piercing his heart. It was now a battle of sheer strength, and Thorin's arms were shaking violently from the exertion it took to maintain the standoff.
"Plead for mercy, Oakenshield," Azog laughed mercilessly, knowing he was about to win. "Just like your father did…a weakling coward, begging for a quick death."
Yet before Thorin could even form a response, there came a cry of rage from behind him…two in fact! And while Thorin still struggled to fend off his attacker, Fili and Kili came into view, their blades slashing at Azog who quickly stumbled backwards attempting to avoid their onslaught. Yet as they both moved in for the kill, Thorin's words stopped them.
"NO!" he cried out, staggering to his feet, his left hand pressing against his chest as the warm blood seeped through his fingers. "The filth is mine!" And with amazing speed possessed by few dwarves, Thorin lunged forward, burying the blade of his sword hilt deep through Azog's chest, the stunned orc blinking a few times as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, the dwarf placed his foot against the pale beast's stomach and pulled Orcrist slowly out, the black blood of his enemy now staining the blueish-white ice beneath him. And as Azog sunk to his knees, the life from his eyes slipping away, Thorin leaned in and spoke again, his voice full of hate. "That's for my father…who died with honor and dignity, something you never had, and never will."
When Azog's lifeless body landed face down before him, Thorin breathed a sigh of relief at last…and immediately slipped to his knees out of sheer exhaustion.
"Uncle!" Fili yelled, racing to his side just as Thorin feel backwards, his head striking the ice with a hard thud. "Thorin…can you hear me!"
"Uncle…NO!" Kili was now there beside him as well, reaching out and cradling his head in his hands.
"It…it's done…" Thorin whispered, the ringing in his ears nearly drowning out the sound of his nephew's cries of protest. "I have avenged them…Azog is dead at last. Erebor is reclaimed. We have won."
"Yes…yes, Uncle, you've won," Fili nodded, the pain in his own chest nearly unbearable, yet he grasped Thorin's hand fiercely, as if willing him to stay alive.
"You two…you have made me proud," Thorin whispered, smiling up at Fili and Kili, before closing his eyes and allowing himself to slip into oblivion, no longer able to remain conscious.
"THORIN!" Fili cried out, shaking his uncle in an attempt to rouse him.
"Is…is he still breathing?" Kili asked, the fear in his voice achingly clear.
Fili bent down and placed his ear to his uncle's lips, closing his eyes in utter relief when he felt a soft whisper of air escape. Quickly the blond prince checked Thorin for injuries, and while he found many cuts, stab wounds, and other reasons to fear, it was the deep gash across his chest that worried him the most. Reaching beneath his own chain-mail, Fili ripped a sizeable strip of cloth from his tunic and pressed it to his uncle's bleeding chest. "Stay with us, Thorin…don't leave us now!"
As a sound came from behind, they both turned, their hands reaching for their weapons, but they quickly relaxed when they saw it was Dwalin, hurrying to his side. He had apparently been delayed by tending to Bilbo, the somewhat dazed and limping hobbit needing help to get across the slippery ice.
"Is he…" Dwalin couldn't even form the words to ask, for he feared the words that would surely kill him with grief.
"He is badly wounded," Kili told him. "But he lives."
"But he won't stay that way for long if we don't get him down off this blasted hill of ice!" Bilbo said, apparently alert enough to take charge of the situation. "Pick him up, and let's get him to a healer…NOW!"
And so they did, with Dwalin and Kili carrying Thorin down the hill, careful not to jostle him anymore than necessary. Bilbo aided Fili, who was by now in too much pain to make it on his own, the five of them at last coming to the tents that had been set up on the now quiet battle field, with elf, men, and dwarf healers scrambling to aid all they could.
Thorin and Fili spend the next several days in the healing tents, recovering from their grievous wounds, while Kili organized the clearing of the battlefield, and seeing that the dead were prepared for burial. It had been a very sad and devastating time for all, and as Bilbo looked back on it now, he knew that living through such an ordeal had changed him…in more ways than one. He had once told Gandalf he had found his courage in the goblin tunnels…but that had been a lie. Bilbo had instead found it on Ravenhill, aiding Thorin and the others in a battle no peaceful hobbit should ever have been a part of. Yet he knew that any courage he had found that day was due to the amazing examples demonstrated by the three sons of Durin. And thankfully, Thorin survived…Fili had healed…and Kili, oh, dear sweet Kili, he had lived as well.
~XXX~
"And that is what makes this a story worth writing," Bilbo muttered to himself, a smile gracing his lips.
"What story?" Daisy inquired, having approached silently from the side, startling her husband just a bit.
"The one I plan to write," he told her, reaching out and pulling her to him in a warm hug. "Just now, I've decided that I'm going to write down everything that happened on our journey to retake Erebor."
"That's a wonderful idea, my love," Daisy grinned. "You really are an amazing story teller. I can't wait to read it."
"And I shall call it… 'There and Back Again, A Hobbit's Holiday'," he announced, liking the sound of that very much.
"A holiday?" Daisy laughed. "Now, I wouldn't quite describe it like that. From what you've told me, with all the trolls, goblins, orcs, spiders, and of course the dragon…it sounds more like a nightmare."
"Well, Daisy, my dear," Bilbo said with a smug look. "We Baggins are a strange lot…or hadn't you heard?"
"Yes, I was warned," she replied with a sly grin. "But I was never one to listen to silly gossip." She leaned up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek tenderly. Daisy then stepped forward, never letting go of Bilbo's arm as she took a quick peek over the edge of the battlement, shivering slightly as she pulled back. "Now, how about we head back in, this is far too high up for my liking. A body could fall to their death from up here!"
"Oh, I am very well aware of that, my love," Bilbo said with a nervous laugh, his mind once more drifting back to the past. "Trust me…I know."
And there you have it...the long awaited, never really considered, and at last told story of how Thorin, Fili and Kili survived the Battle of Five Armies. And who better to tell the tale, than Bilbo Baggins!
I also hope you enjoyed Dwalin's predicament with having to deal with his son's impending marriage to Holly...and Drogo's mentioning of the Bride Price. ha ha.
And I think Flinn and Frodo would be about the size and age of 15 - 18 years old by the standards of men. Both on the cusp of adulthood in looks...but Frodo more in body and mind. But Flinn is getting rather hunky too. ha ha.
Guest Reviews:
abc: Yes, Bolund is a cuttie, and he would now be about the same age as Lili. I just really haven't mentioned him much since his birth. Oh yes, everyone is happy to have the hobbits in Erebor once more. Espeicaly Flinn and Torin...but for compleetly different reasons. ha ha. I think Dwalin lives in the dark! ha ha. Thanks.
Feu d'Argent: Oh yes, Thorin is a sly one...and a bit scandalous too. Shame on him. ha ha. Yah, Daisy is a jewel, but we are wrapping things up here...not delving into more background history, ha ha. Nahhh, Frerin is very secure in his brother's love for him, and he is kind of busy learning healing stuff, so he is just fine. I think everyone in Erebor knows the damage a single kiss can do to a son of Durin...they are a very touchy-feelie bunch. ha ha. As for Bard...yah...well...age catches up with all of us, I'm afraid. Sorry. Tilda? She got married to Dunner, and had two kids, a daughter and then a son. Bain married Brenna and they had a son, Brand. OH, and now they all probably have like twenty cats after Fili gave Gandalf's kittens to them. ha ha. Thanks.
arrondissement: OH YES...as a matter of fact, that idea DID come from you, now that I think about it. It had not even occurred to me that needed to be addressed until you mentioned it. Then I thought, hmmmm, he would figure it out eventually, wouldn't he? So thanks. As for Flinn and Tae...they are both dwarves, so they are NOT even close to being interested in the opposite sex yet. YET! So hang on my dear...hang on. Thanks.