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Just so you know, when at all possible, I am trying to keep to the original events that took place according to the book. Of course things must change somewhat, due to the fact that Thorin, Fili and Kili all lived, and would not normally be a part of the LOTR.
Hope you like what I did.
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Chapter 182
~X~
Winter came and left, with spring quick on its heels, and yet those in Erebor found no time to enjoy it, for they were gearing up for war. Reports of armies heading south were on the rise, causing Thorin to fear that soon some would turn towards them. Gloin and Dena, still having no idea where Gimli was, feared for his life, though they did their best to remain optimistic.
Tauriel, now very near her time to give birth, lamented the fact that she would be unable to assist in any battle, should it come. Kili was extremely busy aiding his uncle and brother in their preparations, but still always found time to check on his pregnant wife. He was an extremely attentive husband, often so much so, that it left the elleth feeling smothered and irritable. Yet he would soothe her ire with a kiss and words of love, realizing that with the dangers outside mounting, everyone was on edge.
It was the morning of March 17, 3019, and everything seemed to be going well. Everything except Tauriel's attire. She had now become so large that nothing she owned fit her, and it was causing the usually easy going elleth to become very frustrated.
"Here, Aunt Tauriel," Freya said, walking into the room with an attractive green garment in her hands. "I think this should accommodate your…your…"
"Monstrous size?" the she-elf offered, finishing the sentence for her young niece. "My stomach of grand proportions?"
"Your voluptuous figure," Freya laughed, supplying a much nicer description. "My little cousin is certainly getting large, and I bet it won't be long before you give birth."
"Please, don't tell me that you've gotten in on Nori's wager over when my time will come, have you?" she asked, giving the dwarf lass a skeptical look.
"Who me?" Freya laughed. "I would never! Adad would skin me alive. Besides, Grandmother Dis always wins those bets anyway, so there is no sense in me even trying."
This caused the uncomfortable elleth to laugh, holding out her hands to accept the outfit that Freya had just finished sewing for her.
"This is lovely, Freya, you do such beautiful work," Tauriel complimented her. The young dam had become rather proficient with a needle and thread, taking after her mother in the textile department. She could still be found most of the time in the stables, taking care of her beloved animals, but her true craft appeared to be in making clothes. She credited this to her past love for making outfits for her dolls when she was younger, now just simply working on a much grander scale. "How did you get this done so quickly?"
"I have a lot more time on my hands now that I have been forbidden to leave the mountain," the lass said with a longsuffering sigh. "Adad is beyond paranoid now, and fears if I set one toe outside of Erebor, I'll be kidnapped or killed."
"Or just wander off and head to the Shire to find your brothers…again," Tauriel reminded her, making her niece roll her eyes.
"That was one time, and really, I was only a child back then!" she huffed. "Besides, I haven't made cookies in over a week, so what would I have to sustain me on such a long journey." This made both of them laugh, and soon the two were chatting away as Freya made a few minor adjustments to the dress she had created for Tauriel.
Yet all their laughter faded when there came the low and booming sound of a horn, one that seemed to resonate throughout the mountain.
"What's that?" Freya asked, standing up and looking at Tauriel with fear in her eyes.
"That's the warning signal for an attack!" the elleth stated, having helped work up the system herself with the aid of Dwalin.
"Someone is attacking Erebor?" Freya couldn't even fathom such an idea. Sure there had been skirmishes and orc raids, but usually on the outskirts of their borders…never an all-out attack on the mountain!
Just then Kili came running in, his eyes full of fear as his sight fell upon his wife.
"A horde of Easterling soldiers from Rhûn have swarmed over the Redwater River!" the dark haired prince informed them, grabbing his bow and sword from where he had them stored and strapping them on, as well as a shirt of mail. "They have laid siege to both Dale and Esgaroth, and we must go to their aid."
"What can I do?" Tauriel begged, feeling utterly useless and hating it.
"Stay here and protect our sons," he instructed, sparing a moment to give her a quick kiss before heading towards the door. "You know they will wish to join in the fight, but you can't let that happen. They are far too young and I will not be able to concentrate on the battle if I am worried about them. So lock them in their chambers if you must…but keep them inside Erebor!"
"I will do my best, my love," she promised, fear gripping her heart as she watched him go.
"Does that mean Adad will be going out to fight too?" Freya asked, her face now white with fear.
"More than likely," she nodded sadly, grabbing her own elven blades and heading for the door. "Come, we must see if there is anything we can do. If nothing else, we can aid those who will be expected to care for the injured. At times like these, I really wish your brother, Frerin, were here. We could use his medical training."
And so the two dams left the safety of their chambers, heading down into the sea of others, all racing to one place or another. Some to fight, some to protect, and others to prepare for the inevitable influx of the wounded.
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Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin all lead the charge out of Erebor and into Dale, yet the sheer force of the feared and infamous Easterlings had already decimated the city of Laketown, and now much of Dale. Those who had escaped from Esgaroth and fled to their sister-city had systematically been cut off, with no means of escaping a second time. The dwarves did their best to aid their allies, while others began to funnel the women and children out of the overrun city and up the road towards Erebor. The Easterlings had attacked so quickly, that none had been prepared for such an onslaught.
King Brand and his young son, Prince Bard, fought bravely, however by the time the dwarves got to them, the two were near to exhaustion, yet still they battled on. Soon it was evident that they could not hold their position any longer in Dale, and Brand ordered his men to fall back to the mountain, seeking cover and shelter with their dwarf allies.
"Have those who can't fight found safety within?" Thorin questioned when his troops and the men of Dale had at last made their way to the gates of Erebor, a whole hoard of Easterlings right behind them.
"Aye!" Fili nodded, gripping his twin blades in his hands as he turned to face the oncoming enemy. "We have moved all the women and children from Dale that we could find inside, they are being well cared for."
"The work we have done to the gates, and all other entries, will ensure that no one can breech our defenses," Flinn assured them, coming to stand beside his son and brother-in-law, ready to fight. Behind him stood Bifur, Bofur, Nori and Dori, the others from the company helping somewhere else within the mountain.
Kili too had an arrow knocked and ready, his usually cheerful face now hard as steel. He had two sons and a pregnant wife within the mountain, and he meant to defend them…even to the death.
"My thanks, dear friends," Brand nodded, knowing his people would now be safe. Yet as he too turned and saw the mob of angry warriors approaching, he began to worry about himself, his soldiers…and his son. "However, I fear this battle is far from over."
"Then let's show these Easterling scum what a true warrior can do!" Dwalin growled, hefting Grasper and Keeper in both hands, ready to let them swing.
"Then ready your swords!" Thorin shouted, rallying his troops as they prepared to defend their lives and loved ones. "Du bekar!" he cried, lunging forward as he met the attackers head on.
From above, Kili and Tauriel's trained archers sent a volley of arrows raining down on the second wave of Easterlings, while other dwarves hurled large boulders from catapults off the rampart, taking out large numbers of the enemy in one fell swoop. The dwarves had not been idle over the past year, shoring up their defenses and preparing for an attack such as this. Though the dwarves and men were vastly outnumbered… one should never discount a person fighting to protect their home and loved ones, for they will battle twice as hard and twice as long as any who were simply looking to gain ground.
The Easterlings were in for the fight of their lives!
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Inside the mountain, the dams raced around, caring for the displaced people of Dale, as well as the injured that began to stream in, taking care of the wounds they could there in the entryway, while sending the more serious patients to the healing halls. No one was exempt from duty, and all pitched in, be they miner, laborer, or queen.
Just as Kili had feared, both Ithil and Anor had been ready to join their father in battle, but one very stern word from their mother put an end to that. At only sixty, and fifty-six years old, the two were still decades away from being of age…for either race. Thus the two princes helped in the weapons department, handing out swords, restocking arrows, and sharpening axes for those too busy fighting to worry about it themselves.
Rose, Raina and Freya did what they could to aid Oin, the old dwarrow racing back and forth trying to attend to far too many patients without enough staff. Talin, ever the warrior like her father had snuck up to the battlement and was helping where she could, even assisting in the loading of boulders into the catapult.
Yet right in the middle of all the chaos, a cry was heard that stopped Dis and Sier in their tracks.
"Tauriel!" both princesses shouted at once, seeing the elleth bend over and grab her stomach as a look of agony crossed her face. "What's wrong?"
"I…I think the babe is coming…NOW!" she cried, leaning against the wall in an effort to remain standing.
"Now?" Sier gasped, looking at the bedlam that surrounded them.
Marigold and Bergie stopped what they were doing as well and rushed over. The hobbit queen looked at Tauriel with sympathy, having been in her situation before.
"Well…she is giving birth to a Durin child," Dis huffed, grabbing hold of one of Tauriel's arms while Sier supported her other side. "We need to get her to the healing halls." She turned and looked at Marigold and Bergie, the two hobbit lasses still wide eyed and worried. "You two, stay here and continue to organize things as best as you can. We'll take care of Tauriel."
"Right, of course," Marigold nodded, having trained for this day…yet hoping it would never come. "We will keep things moving down here. Just make sure that baby is born healthy, otherwise Kili will never forgive us."
And off they went, the hobbits in one direction, and the dams and elf in another…each with a very important assignment.
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Outside on the battle field, it was as if Mordor had declared all-out war on the dwarves and men, and while there seemed to be no end to the Easterling's army, Erebor and Dale's forces were dwindling.
"We can't hold them back much longer!" Dwalin shouted at Thorin, the two of them fighting back to back, taking down one enemy after another. "We need reinforcements!"
"Aye! We need to get word to Thranduil, asking for aid," the dwarf king agreed. "Go and tell the raven keepers to send a message to Mirkwood…quickly!"
"I won't leave you out here alone!" Dwalin objected, taking out the enemy that had been trying to kill him with one swift slice of his ax.
"I'm not alone!" Thorin countered, gesturing to those fighting all around him. "But if we don't get help soon, there won't be any left standing out here! Now GO!"
Dwalin still hated the idea of leaving his sword-brother, but his king had spoken, and must be obeyed. So, after chopping off legs of one final opponent, he raced for the gates, slipping in through the small door that was heavily guarded, allowing only allies to enter or exit. The first person he saw whom he could trust to carry out such an assignment was Freya, the young lass hurrying past with a armload of bandages. Grabbing hold of her, Dwalin halted her progress, causing her to nearly stumble.
"Freya!" Dwalin barked, capturing the princess' attention. "I need you to get to Ravenhill, and have them send word to Thranduil for aid. Quick now, lass, there's no time to waste!"
Freya was startled by the command, but nodded vigorously, knowing that such a call for aid was vital, if they were to survive the night. For too many dwarves and men were coming in wounded…soon they would be overrun. So handing off her bundle to another dam, she quickly turned and raced off to comply with Dwalin's order.
Thankfully, though Ravenhill was quite a distance, there were secret tunnels that led up to the aviary, thus she was not required to leave the cover of safety. Yet when she arrived at the top of the stairs, out of breath and gasping for air, the raven's keep was in an uproar. Birds were flying here and there, some coming, some going, and all of the squawking at once. From what Freya could see, it appeared that the raven keepers were being bombarded by messages, some written, and some verbal. Jorun looked to be having a difficult time organizing all the communications and getting each one relayed in a timely fashion.
But what was truly amazing, was that Freya found she could understand everything being said by the ravens! It was then she realized it was her Durin blood that gave her the inborn ability to communicate with the creatures, and the princess felt a surge of pride and satisfaction at the knowledge.
"King Thranduil and the elves…under attack!" one of the large corvids quarked out. "Dol Guldur…Dol Guldur! Spiders and orcs attacking the woods…setting fire to the trees!"
Freya covered her mouth in horror…there would be no aid from the elves this day. She only prayed that the elf king could defend his keep…and they in turn could defend theirs. Not waiting to hear any more, nor wishing to bother the overtaxes raven keepers when she already knew the answer to her uncle's inquiry, the young dam turned and raced back down to the mountain's gate. Once there, she quickly gave her news to a soldier, who in turn raced out to tell Thorin the bad news. It appeared that the dwarves and men were on their own.
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Up in the healing halls, Tauriel was in distress, not so much over the birth – though that was just as painful as she recalled the last two having been during the final stages – but because Kili was not there to witness it.
"Kili is missing the birth of his child!" she moaned as another wave of pain hit her, causing her to bend forward, fisting the sheets till her knuckles turned white. "I want my husband here for this!"
"I know you do, darling," Dis acknowledged sympathetically. "Yet, it would appear that this one will be born much like your husband was…in the midst of battle, and at the worst possible moment."
"You just need to focus on your own battle right now, Tauriel," Sier encouraged her. "Kili will be so proud of you when he hears what you've done. Just imagine his joy when you introduce him to his child when he returns from fighting."
Yet before the elleth could catch her breath to speak, there came a cry from the next room, a dwarf calling for medical aid.
"We need a healer to the main gates! Quickly…the King is dead and the Prince sorely wounded! Make haste!" was his cry, followed by the sounds of many boots hurrying away.
"WHAT?" Tauriel gasped, looking from one dam to the next.
"The…king?" Dis whispered, immediately picturing her brother struck down, lying there with his unseeing eyes staring at the sky. "Dead?"
"And the prince? Which prince?" were Sier's frantic words. "Fili…Kili… WHO?"
"You stay with Tauriel…I'll go find out what I can," Dis promised, steeling herself for whatever she might learn. Yet with bravery and determination, she left the room.
"What if it is Thorin who's dead?" Tauriel was beginning to panic. "And what if the wounded prince is Kili? He could die without ever seeing his child!"
"We can't think like that!" her sister-in-law stated firmly, now just as worried about her own husband. Thorin, Fili and Kili had all lived through the Battle of Five Armies…they couldn't now die here. They just couldn't!
The two dams were distracted by a few more painful contractions, but all of this was forgotten when Dis returned, tears in her eyes as she faced her two worried daughters.
"It…it was King Brand who was killed," she told them. And while overjoyed that it was not her brother, the news still had hit Dis hard. "He was cut down in front of the gates…his son, Bard, stood over him and protected his lifeless body until his father's cousin, Geir, managed to pull him away to safety."
"Oh…poor Bard!" Sier gasped, having always liked the young prince very much.
"The prince sustained some wounds, but was patched up and has since returned to the battle," Dis explained. "He will exhaust his grief on the enemies that killed his father…it will aid him in healing."
"But what of the others? Kili and Fili…as well as Thorin, Flinn, and Dwalin?" Tauriel begged.
"They are not among the dead or wounded, and from what I'm told they are all still fighting valiantly," Dis told her, rolling up her sleeves and coming back over with a determined look. "Yet, should things go ill, we dams might be needed to take up arms as well, so let's get this baby born!"
And with no arguments from Tauriel, they set about doing just that!
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"King Thorin!" one of the soldier's called, battling his way to his leader. "King Thorin…I have word from Ravenhill!" When the king was at last able to give him his attention, the news did not fill him with joy. "The orcs from Dol Guldur are attacking the halls of Mirkwood. The forest is on fire and the elves are unable to come to our aid!"
"This is ill news indeed!" Thorin spat, looking out over the sea of Easterlings, the vile men just seemed to keep coming and coming. Was there truly no end to them? He looked up to see that the sun would soon be setting behind the hills, robbing them of the light. Night battles were twice as deadly, for one could not see their enemy coming, nor could they distinguish between friend or foe in the darkness. "We cannot last much longer…we must retreat within the walls for safety!" He turned to Dwalin, who had returned to his side to fight. "Sound the retreat, I want all our warriors inside the mountain…NOW!"
And so one by one, they made their way back to the safety of Erebor, taking out as many of the enemy as they could as they retreated. The archers above offered them cover as the final wave made a mad dash inside, with Dwalin himself shoving the stubborn king through the door, before slamming it shut just in time.
The impenetrable gates of Erebor, and the thick walls of the Lonely Mountain, offered them all safe protection. Thorin had seen that each and every weakness had been worked on in advance, so that the complex and intricate dwarven stonework would easily withstand any siege equipment brought against it by the Easterlings. The Lonely Mountain itself was a key strong-point and gave its defenders great tactical leverage against the attackers, being able to shoot arrows and fling stones down below in reprisal. The many years invested in improving the Lonely Mountain's defenses had paid off, and the defenders within were certain that they could outlast the Easterling siege.
Once the gates had been barricaded, and the stone defenses lowered that now blocked off any access from the ramparts, the mountain was sealed tight as a tomb. They only hoped that it would not end up being their final resting place.
The sound of the enemy outside, pounding against the gates with battering rams and other weapons reverberated within, but their defenses held.
"Fili, Kili," Thorin called to his nephews. "Get up to the secret entrance we used during the quest, and give me a report on the activity and strength of the army outside. We need to know what they intend to do next. But stay out of sight, and don't be seen!" He then turned to his brother-in-law. "Flinn, I need an accounting on the wounded. What have been our losses, and are we in need of more supplies or anything required to aid them?" Next his eyes went to Dwalin. "Rally the troops, and see that they are given ample provisions, we can't have anyone in a weakened state when we are required to attack once more."
Bard, and his second in command, Geir, approached just then, the young prince sporting both cuts and bruises, as well as pain-filled eyes.
"What do you require of us, King Thorin," he asked, his mind focused on the duty at hand, and not the bitter loss that could easily overwhelm him.
"I need an accounting of your troops as well," Thorin responded. "And see that any in need are given medical attention right away…and that includes you, Bard."
"I am fine," he said stubbornly, not wishing to show weakness. Yet when the young prince swayed slightly, Geir took hold of him, steadying his new king.
"I will see he gets it if needed," the man was quick to assure the king. "The rest shall be done, as well."
Bard and Geir headed off, eager to carry out the king's command. The rest were about to leave as well, when Dis came running down the stairs, weaving her way through the crowd in order to get to them.
"Thorin!" she called, halting everyone in their tracks. "What's going on?" Yet when the dam spotted her husband, tired and sweaty, but otherwise uninjured, she threw her arms around him, hugging him fiercely.
"We were forced to retreat," the king informed her, once she returned her attention to him, though hating the taste of the words on his tongue. "Yet better that then to be slaughtered outside. There are simply too many to handle. It's as if the entire lands of Rhûn have been emptied, and aimed directly at us, like an arrow from a bow."
"Do you think this is a reprisal for not handing over Bilbo, like they ordered us to?" Dis questioned.
"It matters not, since we would have never aligned ourselves with Mordor, no matter what the threats or bribes consisted of," Thorin stated with a low growl. "Now we simply need to withstand this assault and gather our strength to push the enemy back."
"We will bring you information on that as soon as we can, Uncle," Kili told his king, as he and his brother turned to go, obviously heading for the secret door high on the side of the mountain.
"No! Wait!" Dis called, halting her sons mid-step. "Kili, you must go to the healing halls. Your wife is waiting for you there."
"WHAT?" Kili gaped, all the blood draining from his face. "What's the matter with Tauriel? Is she hurt…injured…what?"
"No, she's given birth," Dis said with a comforting smile. "You're a father…again!"
"She…she what?" Kili couldn't believe his ears. "It's…it's too soon."
"Babies care nothing for calendars, they come when they wish," Dis laughed, enjoying the look of shock on her son's face.
"Congratulations, Naddith!" Fili crowed, slapping his stunned brother on the back.
"Wonderful news, son!" Flinn added, his face breaking out into an overjoyed smile.
"Now get going," Dis ordered, waving her hand towards the stairs. "Tauriel's waiting to introduce you to your new little one."
Kili looked over at Thorin, as if asking permission, which he got, sending the dark haired prince off at a run. Once he was gone, Thorin reassigned Dis to take stock of the wounded, while Flinn went with Fili to check on the enemy's movements. Yet thankfully, for now, all were safe inside Erebor…but for how long was the question.
Dwalin however, was not the least bit pleased to learn that Talin had joined in the fight, even if she had been smart enough to only do so from a distance. Yet when the other soldiers on the battlement told him of her bravery and support, he found he couldn't be too angry…she was after all his daughter, and if he'd been in her positon, he would have done no less. Still, he gave her a very stern talking to later, in private, so as not to embarrass the lass in front of her peers.
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Kili ran the whole way, arriving at the healing halls out of breath. He was disheartened by the number of wounded that were crammed into every bed, corner or chair available, all of them being tended to by overtaxed healers, both dwarven and from the race of men. Not seeing any sign of Tauriel, he had to ask several attendants before he was directed to a small room in the back. There he found his lovely wife sitting up in bed, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms, with Sier standing nearby, smiling at the two of them. When she saw him enter, his sister-in-law gave him a quick hug, congratulating him, and then left the three of them alone.
"Tauriel?" Kili panted, taking a few uncertain steps forward. "You…you had the babe without me?"
"Well, it appeared that you were rather busy at the time," she laughed, overjoyed to see him healthy and hale. "And much like you, your offspring decided to arrive in the middle of a battle, with no care or concern for timing." When the stunned dwarrow still did not attempt to approach the bed, Tauriel held out her hand. "Come here, my love…and greet your new little daughter, Elenath."
This time, her urging caused the dwarf to move, coming to her side as he gazed down at the miniature version of his wife in her arms. She was absolutely perfect, with creamy white skin, fire red hair, and the tiniest elven-point to her ears.
"She's beautiful!" Kili whispered, afraid of waking the peaceful child. "Just like I dreamed she would be." He looked at his wife with hopeful eyes. "May I hold her?"
"Of course," she laughed, passing the bundle gently over to his eager arms.
When he was holding her at last, tears began to fall from his eyes, though his smile never faded.
"Hello, my little star," he cooed, gently rocking her back and forth. "You certainly picked a poor day to be born, but I don't regret your coming one bit." He then reached out and touched the red tuft of hair gracing her little head. "Tauriel…what's the Sindarin word for fire?"
"Fire?" she questioned. "It is naur. Why?"
"What if we altered her name just a bit?" he suggested. "Calling her Elenaur? Our little star-fire?"
"Oh, Kili…I love it," Tauriel said, her own tears brimming in her eyes at the idea of the name. "Yes, that will be what she's called."
"Princess Elenaur, star-fire of the mountain and the woods," Kili said with a wide grin, watching as his daughter slowly opened her eyes. And as she looked up at him, the beautiful shade of emeralds gazing back at him, he knew his heart was lost to her forever. "You truly are your mother's daughter," he laughed.
Just then Ithil and Anor came rushing in, apparently having also been told of their sibling's birth.
"Amad!" Ithil cried, relief flooding his eyes at the sight of her. "Is it true?"
"We have a sister?" Anor added, his bright smile mirroring that of his father.
"That you do, lads," Kili grinned, turning around so that they could get a good look at the red haired lass in his arms. "Meet your nan'ith, Elenaur."
"Star-fire?" Ithil questioned, recognizing the use of the two elven words.
"That's perfect!" Anor laughed. "Since she has red hair like Amad!"
"Exactly," Kili laughed. "Would you two like to hold her?"
"Oh, no!" Anor gasped, backing up in horror. "What if I break her?"
"Well if he won't, I will!" Ithil grinned, stepping forward and holding out his arms. "I want to see my little sister close up."
As Ithil held Elenaur, with Anor peeking over his brother's shoulder, Kili and Tauriel looked at all three of their children with hearts full of love.
"I think our family is now complete," Kili whispered, not wishing to spoil such a wonderful moment.
"What you mean is that you now have just as many children as your brother," Tauriel laughed. "Sometimes I swear it's as if the two of you are one person, just split in half."
"And is that such a bad thing?" Kili questioned, with a wide grin.
"Never…for I love you just the way you are, my husband," she assured him, leaning to the side and placing her head against his arm. "And I always will."
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The news of the new princess brought hope and joy to the hearts of those locked away inside Erebor, yet there was little time for celebrating while the enemy continued to bombard them from outside the gates. From the vantage point on the ledge outside the secret door, they had watched as the enemy continued to besiege the mountain, striking it with every manner of weapon they possessed, and yet the dwarf stone would not yield.
More information came in by raven, concerning the battle that Thranduil and his elves were up against. It told of how the orcs from Dol Guldur had attacked from the south, setting fires that ravaged parts of Mirkwood, before assailing the elf lord's keep. While all this was going on, the enemy launched another assault upon the Golden Woods of Lothlórien.
Thus, the dwarves sent word to Dain, asking for aid, thought knowing he was days away even if he could come. Sadly, he too was embroiled in his own battle, the Iron Hills not spared either from Mordor's attacking forces. It was indeed a full scale attack on all those in the north, meant to devastate any who opposed Sauron's tyranny. Thorin hated the fact that he could not ride out to aid his cousin to the east, or his elf allies to the south, and could only hope that Thranduil and Dain would prevail.
The Easterlings had taken up camp in the now abandoned city of Dale, while continuing their attack. One could only imagine the devastation they would leave in their wake. Thankfully, the fields had not yet been planted, so there were no crops for them to destroy, but many of the bounteous fruit trees in the orchard had been cut down and used as battering rams or firewood…much to the horror and dismay of the two hobbit lasses inside.
For nine long days the dwarves of Erebor, as well as the men of Dale and Esgaroth, remained safe inside, the Easterling host unable to take the gate. Yet, on the morning of the twenty-sixth, the Easterling army appeared to become disheartened, almost as if their strength and courage had been stolen from them. It was then that Thorin and young Bard, now the new king of Dale, decided to rally their forces and launch an all-out attack. Tauriel, having recovered from childbirth quickly, as elves tended to do, wished to join in the battle. Kili, having none of that, threatened to tie his wife to the bed if she even dared set a foot outside their chambers. A battle of wills quickly ensued, but the stubborn dwarf finally won the argument, but not without having to play on Tauriel's motherly instincts, and reasoning that with both of them out there fighting, their children stood a much higher chance of becoming orphans. In the end, the elleth agreed to remain within the walls of Erebor…but she was not happy about it.
So it was, at dawn on the following day, the combined forces of dwarf and men burst forth from the mountain, taking the enemy by surprise. Thus the besieged became the victors, and their armies routed the Easterlings, slaying many and chasing the remaining ones from their lands…never to return again.
By the end of the day, King Thorin and King Bard II stood on the battlefield victorious. Dwalin had taken a spear to his side, though it was a minor wound and everyone was assured that the grumpy old war-chief would recover quickly. Fili, Kili, and Flinn also acquired a few new battle scars, and out of the original company, the only other one besides Dwalin who needed serious medical attention was Nori.
The former thief had been battling a particularly large Easterling when someone had shot his opponent from behind, causing him to fall forward and crushing the dwarf beneath his massive weight. Nori had lay there, pinned for some time, before he was discovered and extracted, yet he had suffered a broken arm and slight concussion in the process, thus requiring him to be taken to the healing halls. Dwalin was not pleased that the two of them had been placed next to each other, and the chatty Nori practically drove him crazy by the time they were both released.
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The following day, a raven came from the south, bringing excellent news…Sauron had been defeated, and Middle Earth was once again free of his tyrannical oppression. This explained the disheartened attitude of the Easterlings, and why those in Erebor were able to turn the tide of battle. Of course Gloin and Dena were happy about the news, yet what they dearly wished for was word about Gimli. It had almost been a year since he set out for Rivendell, and they still had no idea if he was alive or dead.
Thorin and Bard had immediately began gathering their merger troops in order to journey to Thranduil's aid, yet it appeared that no help was necessary when another dispatch came from the south. This message saying that the elves had indeed been victorious, both in Mirkwood and Lothlórien. Thranduil had overrun the invasion made upon his own borders, while Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadrial had sailed over the Anduin, and assaulted Dol Guldur with many of their warriors. Yet it was the White Lady herself who threw down the walls of the orc infested stronghold, laying bare its pits and cleansing the forest once and for all.
And there, in the midst of the forest, on the field of victory, Thranduil and the elves of Lórien met and celebrated their triumph, as well as the fall of the dark lord. It was next decided that the name of the forest would forever more be called Eryn Lasgalen, meaning The Wood of Green-leaves. Thranduil then took the lands from the mountain range to the north as his kingdom, while offering the southern region below the Narrows to Celeborn, who renamed it East Lórien. Yet all the forest land in-between they gave to the Beornings and the Woodmen to call their own. Thorin sent words of congratulation to all…even if he had never before met, or even dreamed of meeting, the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. Still, it seemed the right thing to do.
Now with the ravens willing to fly messages over the Misty Mountains once more, Thorin sent word to the Shire, desiring news from Flinn and Frerin, as well as telling them of their victory against the Easterlings. Yet even as quickly as a crow could fly, the worried relatives still knew it would be some time before they received an answer back. In the meantime, all they could do was wait…and worry.
And Thorin hated doing both.
And there you have it...the new and improved version of what took place at Erebor during the war of the rings.
Sorry, but Brand did die...making Bard II the next king. But at least Dain didn't die defending his body this time.
So, Kili and Tauriel have their little Star-fire at last. Do you like how I combined the two words for her name? I thought it sounded like Eleanor...but with an 'ar' at then end.
Guest Reviews:
Feu d'Argent: Oh yes, I do love the crown! Fili did a wonderful job. I shall wear it with pride. Maybe one of them WILL be meeting their 'one' soon. But remember, Flinn is the oldest child of them all and he is still concidered a youngling. He won't be thinking about that stuff for the next seven to ten years. ha ha. I don't thin we will be getting to chapter 200, sorry. Maybe 190? As for words...I have no idea how many it will turn out to be. ha ha. This is also the longest piece of fiction I've ever WRITTEN! ha ha. Thanks again for the lovely coronation party. I loved Bombur's cake.
dojoson41: It had been quite some time since I had read that part of the book and I had forgotten just how much trouble Lotho had caused at the end there. So I was just sticking to the book on that part. I guess he could call for help from the Blue Mountains, but what would he say. "Hey, can you come over here and follow this pesky hobbit around and find out what he's up to for me?" ha ha. I doubt they would be too happy about that, prince or no prince. But thanks for the idea!
abc: (for chapter 181) Yep, been having a lot of problems with the FF site. I hope it is fixed and won't go down again. I figured if I didn't give Flinn a job...he would just sneak off and follow Frodo, and I couldn't have him doing that. Yep, he and Frerin will be protecting the Shire. They are like the mini versions of Fili and Kili...for sure. Yep, Lotho is up to no good, but that was all Tolkien's work, not mine, I'm just following the book. ha ha. Thanks
abc (for chapter 180) I'm glad it is fixed too. Yep, Elrond got Frodo fixed up good. I like Aragorn, and he likes the dwarves too, they are funny to him, especially Kili. I just didn't want to follow Flinn all around Middle Earth as he went on the quest, so sending him to the Shire seemed the most logical alternative. ha ha, glad Flinn's jab at Gloin made you laugh. I don't think that dwarf will ever live down destroying the gates with that bell. ha ha. Thanks.
dojoson41: Sure, watch the whole thing in slow motion! that way you get twice as much Fili screen time! ha ha.
Emrfangirl: Thanks for sticking with it until you were able to sucessful review! Glad you like how I got everyone to LOTR...and yes, Flinn is not old enough, but Gimli is this time, so he can go in his place. The Lotho storyline is from the book (mostly) but I'm happy you like it. I didn't think those two ever had to learn to cook...they are princes and they have a mother. They both better find their ones though, or they might starve yet. ha ha. And hobbits could teach them to cook really well. Frerin is a good Dr. right? Good for him.
Guest: Yep, FF has been down for quite a bit, so glad you managed to catch up!