Thorin watched helplessly as the white orc swiftly beheaded his Grandfather then stabbed his father through the chest. Anger and grief filled Thorin as he let out a tremendous battle cry and charged the white orc. The rest of the battle faded into the background as Thorin began fighting the white Orc.
In a low growl Thorin said, "I will end you scum for what you have done." Sneering the white Orc snarled, "I am Azog you will die like you're pitiful King." With a great swing of his sword Azog sent Thorin flying through the air.
Grunting Thorin collided with the hard ground his breath whooshing out of his lung's. Dazed and gasping for breath Thorin rolled onto his back to see Azog walking toward' s him with a victorious smirk on his face.
Desperately looking around for his sword Thorin cursed as he couldn't find it. Azog towered over him in pure desperation Thorin victory glinting in his ety blindly grabbed at the nearest thing to him and swung it at Azog. Seeing Thorin swing the oak branch at him Azog laughed swinging his sword down to behead Thorin.
Just before Azog's sword reached Thorin's neck the oak branch collided with Azog's arm and sliced right threw it. Screaming in rage Azog stumbled backward' s black blood spraying from the jagged stump.
The Orc's seeing their leader wounded began fleeing the battlefield dragging a kicking and screaming Azog behind them as the fled back into the mines. Groaning in pain Thorin pulled himself up and looked around the battlefield so many body's lay in the black and red sludge that coated the ground.
Seeing his father and Grandfather's bodies lying still on the battlefield brought bile into Thorin's mouth before he turned away and began searching for his brother Ferin in a loud voice Thorin called out "FERIN!" Trudging through the bodies blood and grime Thorin desperately searched for a glimpse of golden hair among the predominantly dark-haired dwarf's.
Stumbling forward's Thorin saw that a group of elves had set up tent's and where carrying the wounded into the tent's. rushing over to the elves Thorin spotted a tall dark-haired elf carrying Ferin off of the battlefield. Yelling, "Ferin!" Thorin rushed over weaving through the tall elves.
Reaching Ferin Thorin was shocked to see a massive stab wound that went in the stomach and appeared out of his back. Blood ran like a river from Ferin as Thorin stood in shock the realisation that he was going to lose his brother the one person that had always listened to him and made him see reason was going to die.
Ignoring Thorin the elf carried Ferin inside a tent then darted out again heading back to the battlefield to search for more wounded. Quickly running forward Thorin burst into the elven tent to find Ferin surrounded by two elves one who was pouring a silver liquid into Ferin wound and another that was holding the screaming dwarf still.
Seeing his bother dying in agony because of the elves filled Thorin with white hot anger and hatred. All the things that his father and grandfather had told him about elves surged into the front of Thorin's mind fanning the flames.
Growling lowly Thorin surged forward to stop the elves from harming his brother any more when two guard's that must have used elven trickery to sneak up on him grabbed his arms and held him in place forcing Thorin to watch as the elf poured more of the silver liquid into the wound Ferin's scream's echoed in Thorin's ears as he fought to reach him.
Placing the pitcher down the elf began chanting in the elven language his hand's pressed over the open wound a faint glow emanating from beneath his hand's." one of the guard's who was restraining Thorin leaned down and whispered, "if you stop fighting us I can explain what we are doing to your brother."
Glancing wearily at the elven guard's Thorin stopped struggling and allowed the guard's to move him away from the tent opening. The elf guard in a low voice began explaining in a soft voice saying, "Severus is healing the dwarf the stab wound was filled with dirt and grime from the battle field and the orcish blade that stabbed him. Unfortunately, because the wound is so serious he has had to clean it quickly with elven alcohol which unfortunately burns when in contact with a wound."
Relaxing slightly Thorin whispered, "I understand now that you are trying to save him and apologise for losing control, but my brother's wound is so grievous that I do not believe that even elven magic could save him."
Sighing Sirius whispered, "My King wouldn't have told Severus to focus on your brother without a reason." Nodding as numbness and exhaustion began to take over Thorin prayed that Sirius was right."
Jerking out of his thought's Thorin realised he Had been ignoring Sirius turning with an apologetic look Thorin went to apologise but before he could say anything Sirius cut in saying "My King told me to tell you to remember his warning." Quickly Sirius handed Thorin a slightly crumpled piece of parchment sealed with High King Hadrian's seal.
Quickly Thorin opened the parchment and was shocked at how shaky Hadrian's hand writing was. Reading the scribbled words Thorin felt like someone had punched him in the gut for the word's the white orc lives circled in his head.
Whispering in his ear Sirius broke Thorin from his tumultuous thought's as he said, "I think Severus is almost done." Looking up at his brother Thorin was surprised to see not even a scar where the wound had been and a healthy colour returning to Ferin's face.
Looking up at Thorin Severus said, "I'm sorry but I have healed him to the best of my ability." Smiling Thorin replied, "It's okay it has been explained that you where disinfecting the wound." Shaking his head sadly Severus in a hoarse voice said, "I'm sorry your highness but the orc's blade nicked the spinal cord at best you're bother will be lucky if he can feel anything below the waist at worst complete paralysis below the waist."
Nodding slowly Thorin whispered, "At least he is still alive." Smiling sadly Severus patted Ferin on the shoulder and slipped from the tent. Stroking Ferin's hair Thorin wondered how his brother would deal with being paralised.
Not even 20 minutes later the peace of the tent was shattered as Thorin's old friend Balin and Dwalin burst into the tent. Clearing his throat Bailn said, "you are now High King of the Dwarf's Thorin they need you out on the battlefield, so we can decide what to do with the dead and so that the dwarf lords can crown you."
Sighing Thorin hauled himself to his feet and croaked, "Dwalin guard the prince." Nodding sharply Dwalin moved to stand at Ferin's bedside. Trudging out of the tent Thorin was surprised to see how many tent's and elf's were running around.
Seeing the Dwarf lord's up ahead Thorin decided to get the informal crowning over with. As Thorin approached the Dwarf lord's they bowed, and King Dain of the Iron Hill stepped forward presenting Thorin with the king's sword.
As Thorin accepted the sword Dain said, "I recognise the blood line as that of the most direct line to Durin the Deathless and accept Thorin Oakenshield as the High King of the Dwarf's so long as he has a throne to rule from."
Silently cursing that stipulation of being High King of Dwarf's Thorin replied, "I vow to look after those Dwarf's under my care to the best of my abilities as High King of the Dwarf's." bowing the dwarf lord's murmured, "Long live the King."
Before the lord's could begin discussing the dead, Dain pressed a blood-stained pouch into Thorin's hands and whispered, "the belonging's found on the king and his son." Nodding quickly in thanks Thorin tucked the pouch into a pocket and focused on what they were going to do with the dead.
After much debate they pilled the dead onto 5 massive pyre's. Gazing at the burning pyre's the stench of burning flesh catching the back of his throat Thorin swore to himself that he would be a better king than his grandfather.
Pulling out his father's ring Thorin looked down at it with discuss just holding it in his hand and he could swear that it was whispering for him to put it on. Quickly shaking his head to clear it Thorin placed the ring in a small wooden box and began making his way to his brother's tent.
Seeing that his brother was still unconscious Thorin turned to Dwalin and said, "prepare Ferin for traveling there is no way that we can fight a balrog after the losses we have suffered." Blinking in surprise Dwalin asked, "Where are we going?"
Gazing down at Ferin sadly Thorin whispered, "the other lord's have graciously allowed us to use our old stronghold Belegost." Gasping Dwalin grabbed Thorin's arm and shaking his head in denial asked, "The same Belegost that our ancestor's left due to the mines being overrun with toxic mushroom's or filled with poisonous gas?"