So, I am not that great at battle scenes, but I think I did pretty good hear. If you want to make this interesting, read this while listening to Thomas Bergersen's Aura. I wrote this while listening to it on repeat. For the end, listen to Two Hearts, also by Thomas Bergersen.

Fili and Kili fought their way through the hoards that came at them, desperately working to keep the monsters from overrunning the city. They had been trained for this, but training hardly constituted experience. Time had no meaning. They couldn't tell if they had been fighting for hours or minutes. Swing, block, thrust. Duck, turn, jump. The brothers never stopped. When Bard called for them to fall back, they did, but not without adding more bodies to their count.

Once they got closer to the center of the city, they caught sight of the twins. They, too, were cutting their way through the orcs. On and on they went. Kili vaguely realized that there were now more ladies fighting amongst them. He knew some had opted to fight, but a great many more had decided to hole up in the Town Hall. Focused as he was on what lay before him, Kili caught the very familiar scream that cut through the air.

Outside the mountain, war continues between Men, Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, and goblins. Inside the mountain, an entirely different battle raged….

Bilbo and Glorfindel trail behind Thorin as he makes his way through the mountain. All had stood back in shock as he ordered them to stand down when the battle began. Bilbo, Balin, and Dwalin had all tried to reason with him. Their allies and kin were dying out there. He ended up threatening Dwalin. Glorfindel watched it all. While the others went back to the main entrance, Bilbo and Glorfindel remained. Now, the three stood in the Gallery of the Kings. The elf and hobbit watched the dwarf king stumble around on the golden floor, mumbling to himself. Glorfindel held Bilbo back when he, once more, tried to go assist his friend. He shot the elf the dirtiest look he could muster. One he usually reserved for Lobelia, when he caught her making off with his silverware.

"He has to do this himself. He is the only one who can overcome the evil that clouds his mind. You cannot walk this path with him," said Glorfindel.

They both turn to the sound of metal meeting metal. Thorin had thrown the crown from his head. They watched him as he shrugged the robe from his shoulders. He then began to almost tear at the armor he had adorned in the early hours of the morning. He turned in their direction, noticing them for the first time. Head high, he walks over to meet them.

Glorfindel looks into his eyes and smirks. "Welcome back Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain."

Tilda could not recall a time she was more frightened, not even when the dragon came. They were not supposed to be here. She clung tightly to her sister as they looked for shelter amongst the chaos. Bain had already managed to save them from one orc. As much as she loved her brother, she knew he could not hold them all off.

An orc came through an archway on their left, taking them by surprise. Sigrid was knocked to the side, causing Tilda to lose her hold on her sister and fall to the ground. The girl looked up to see that she was quite separated from her siblings. Bain had lost his sword and her sister was bleeding from a gnash on her temple. Worse, the orc had taken notice of her. His smile was cruel as he advanced towards her. She screamed. She heard her sister call her name and watched as her brother tried to rush to her, only to be tossed aside by the orc. She didn't look to see if he got up.

Tilda could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She was going to die. She watched as he raised his sword. Just as she knew he was going to bring it down upon her, a different sword plunged through the orcs chest. The sword retracted, and as he fell to his knees, the orcs head rolled to the side, followed by his body. It was then that her savior was revealed.

"Kili…"

"It's alright now, Tilda. You're safe."

Tilda was now able to see that her brother was on his feet, and Fili was tending to Sigrid.

"What are you doing out here?! You're supposed to be in the Town Hall!" bellowed Fili.

"We were," stammered Sigrid. "Some of the women decided they would rather die helping the men than hiding away. We got caught in the crowd. By the time we were able to escape it, someone had locked the door and we were trapped out here. We have been looking for somewhere to hide."

"Right, follow us," said Kili. The group made their way through the city, stopping every so often to dispose of invading filth, to a place he knew the children could hide. It was not far from where they had camped. They had just gotten the kids put away when they heard a different horn sound. This was not the orcs horn. Fortunately for the brothers, they were high enough to see Erebor. They watched the walled up front gate burst open, and their uncle lead the company, and one elf, into battle.

The brothers smiled. "Thorin."

Tauriel really hoped that they were not too late. The sounds and smell of battle reached them long before they saw it. It was nothing she had ever seen. She had not been among those who left with Thranduil to help when the dragon first came, so she had never seen such devastation. She pushed down all thoughts of hopelessness. They began cutting their way through the ruined city of Dale. They caught glimpses of Fili, Kili, and the twins, but were unable to get close enough to any other them to share their news. Tauriel was worried for she had not caught sight of Glorfindel. Finally, they came upon the wizard.

"Legolas Greenleaf!" he cried with joy. "I am very glad to see you."

"Gandalf, there is an army of orcs coming from Gundabad, they will be upon us soon."

"From Gundabad? That would be from the north," he turned in that direction. "Ravenhill."

"Ravenhill?!" shouted a voice they did not expect. A very small person seemed to appear out of nowhere. 'This must be the hobbit Fili and Kili told us about,' thought Tauriel.

"But, they are up there. Thorin, Dwalin, and Glorfindel. They are all up there."

Tauriel felt as though she should be sick. All three were great warriors, but they could not stand against such a force and survive.

"Come, Tauriel, we must move," called Legolas, as Gandalf began to argue with the hobbit, who seemed determined to head towards Ravenhill himself.

They were once more fighting their way through, trying to make it there as fast as possible. They had not gotten far when they came across Thranduil and heard his command to sound the retreat. In her anger, Tauriel pulled her bow and aimed at her king.

"No! I will not let you! You cannot leave all these people with no defense!"

"They are not my concern."

"Do not be a coward."

As the words left her mouth, Thranduil acted and cleaved her bow in half.

"You know nothing. You seek only to save the Balrog Slayer. Do you really think he would have you? Have you learned nothing? Always aiming high, aren't you Tauriel."

"Enough!" cried Legolas, startling Thranduil, who had not noticed his son.

"Come Tauriel," he said a bit softer, "we must go if we are to warn them in time."

Tauriel quickly followed him, holding her tears at bay. There would be time later, but now, they had somewhere to be.

Glorfindel cursed to himself. If only they had been able to leave when the hobbit turned up, but no sooner than he had, Azog had decided to show himself and cut off their escape. They had all been separated. He was trying to get back to Thorin, who he had last seen facing many foes on the ice. He finished off the orcs before him and turned to the archway he knew was behind him. Unfortunately for him, it was not empty. He had no sooner turned, when his torso took a blunt hit, knocking him back and causing him to lose his grip on his sword. He rolled himself to get back on his feet, only to receive a powerful kick to his stomach. This time he got a good look at his assailant. Bolg, son of Azog.

He was finally able to get back to his feet, but his sword was out of reach, and the beast before him had no intention of letting him get anywhere near it. They proceeded to almost dance as Bolg took swings and Glorfindel dodged, looking for an opening to go for his sword or to be able to incapacitate his foe. Bolg finally delivered a blow, causing Glorfindel to be flung into a staircase head first. He saw black for a few moments, and when his vision cleared, it was not a welcome sight. Glorfindel, Balrog Slayer, the only one to have ever come back from Aman, was going to be taken out by one, single orc. Had it not been such a dire moment, he might have laughed.

He stared the beast down as he raised the pointed end of his weapon to pierce the elf, victory in his eye. He braced himself, thanking the Valar that at least this time, it might be quick, when a dagger embedded itself into Bolg's one good eye. The orc dropped his weapon, and collapsed in a heap. Glorfindel turned over to see who he had to thank for saving his neck. He really wasn't prepared for what he saw.

"Tauriel?"

"Glorfindel," she said, handing him his sword. She scanned him, looking for injuries.

"I will be fine, for now at least. I must find Thorin, Dwalin, and Bilbo. Have you seen them?"

"Bilbo? But how did he get here before us? Never mind. I have only seen King Thorin. He is holding his own on the ice. Legolas it there," she pointing up to a dilapidated tower, where he could see his old friend firing arrow after arrow.

"Let us go and be of assistance. And Tauriel? I am happy to see you."

"As am I you."

Thorin thanked Mahal that the elf prince showed up. He had lost sight of Glorfindel and Dwalin some time ago. He hadn't seen Bilbo, and that had him worried. He focused on the enemies coming at him, relief flooding him each time one dropped to an arrow. He battled on. Soon, he noticed he was no longer friendless on the ice. Glorfindel appeared with the red headed guard captain by his side. Not long after, he noticed Legolas had joined them on the ground, keeping to the outskirts of the ice. Thorin then heard a roar. He had just enough time to lift his sword to block a powerful blow.

Azog had finally joined the fight.

The adversaries faced off, throwing swings and blows, while blocking others, but neither able to land a hit. Azog noticed the lack of sound first. Having drawn back to swing, he noticed he was alone. Around him, blocking off any exit, were three elves and a dwarf. Thorin took a second to notice too. Glorfindel had signaled the others to stand down. They would not let him escape, but this would be Thorin's fight.

In his anger, Azog's swings became less precise. Their dance continued. Thorin changed tactics, seeing that this fight was most definitely in his favor. He opted to let Azog overextend himself in his anger, and wait for the right opening. He wasn't waiting long. Azog pulled back to land a powerful blow, but he paused just long enough for Thorin to plunge Orcrist through his neck.

Azog stumbled back, clutching his neck, eyes on his foe. His last sight was of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, swinging his blade to separate his head from his shoulders.

It was over. Thorin looked down at his long-time enemy. He thought him dead for so long, but now, he knew for sure. He heard Dwalin's victorious shouts coming from behind him. He couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off the now headless body of Azog. He would hang the head upon the gate for all to see. The Defiler was dead.

"It's Radagast!" called Glorfindel. Thorin finally focused on what was going on around him. The eagles had arrived, and with them was the crazy wizard they met all those months ago, and the skin changer. Thorin laughed. They were victorious. He looked around and realized he still had no idea where the hobbit was.

"Where's is Bilbo? Has anyone seen the hobbit?!"

"Here! I am here!" he called, clutching his head.

Thorin laughed as he watched Bilbo make his way over to him. The red headed she elf got to him first.

"I believe you have a concussion, Mr. Baggins. Come, the healers have probably already begun to set up their tents. If we go now, we can get you seen quickly. You too, Glorfindel."

The elf in question looked around and caught the eyes of his long-time friend.

"You had better listen to her. She'll haul you down by the ear otherwise, and you know you do not want to give Elrond's sons the privilege of seeing such a sight."

He saw Tauriel lift her brow in challenge. He heard Thorin chuckle. "We should all make our way down, but first…" he bent down and picked up the head of the Defiler.

They started the trek down the hill.

Fili and Kili looked around the battlefield. They were victorious! The few stragglers that were left were being picked off by elven archers and the eagles. They flagged Bard down when they saw him heading towards the Town Hall, and directed him to his children. After that, they began getting survivors to the healing tents. The battle may be over, but the work was far from done. They now had to clean up and heal.

The Twins were hard at work in the healing tents, putting their father's teachings to good use. Fili and Kili had just brought in a couple more patients when they heard a commotion coming from the outskirts. They made their way out quickly to see what was going on. They did not get far. It was easy to see that people were celebrating, and what it was they were celebrating. Coming into camp were their various companions. Glorfindel, Tauriel, Legolas, Bilbo, and Dwalin, with Thorin in the lead, carrying a spear with the head of Azog! Their family's great enemy was dead! Fili and Kili joined in with shouts of their own.

Thorin caught sight of his sister's son and handed the spear Dwalin. As he drew near to them they stopped and stared, waiting to see what their uncle would so. He continued on his path right up to them, and pulled them into his arms. He brought all of their foreheads together.

"I am so sorry," he started almost sobbing. "Forgive me. Forgive me."

"Already done," said Kili softly.

They looked each other in the eyes and smiled wide at each other. Knocking heads once more, they walked into camp.

Thorin lives! Yay! And a little bit of Durin feels!