Within moments, the armies clashed. As soon as the elves were clear of them, the dwarves leapt up to fight alongside Thranduil's army, axes ringing against enemy shields. Their war cries filled the air, mingling with the shrieks of the orcs. If the dwarves were surprised with the sudden turn of events, they didn't show it, but instead fought on with more ferocity than ever.

"Aeyera, pull right!" Maladernil's clear voice cut through the sounds of battle. I looked round at him, spitting the hair that the winter wind seemed intent on blinding me with out of my mouth. "Hit their flank."

I nodded and urged my mare forward, cutting around the side of the army. I stood in the saddle, my heart beating in time with the pounding of my horse's strides. With a roar, I hit the enemy flank, swinging my sword and cutting a path through the goblin ranks. The rest of my army followed at my heels, fighting with silent determination. My brothers fought on either side of me, and we waded through the orc army, cutting down all who crossed us.

A thought occurred to me, suddenly making me very glad that Thorin was refusing to allow anyone to leave the mountain. If he had allowed his nephews to join the fight, I would have to worry about them. As it was, I could concentrate fully on the battle. And so I did.

I focused only on fighting, defending my people against my enemies. Having a horse was a tremendous advantage. I had the high ground, and because of the sheer number of my people, no orc remained alive long enough to try and attack the horse, not with a sword coming at them. Any who lost their footing were quickly trampled underfoot. We fought hard, driving the enemy back, and for a while I thought we were winning.

In a brief lull, I surveyed the battlefield. Countless bodies littered the ground, most of them orcs. Some dwarves lay among them, as well as men. What broke my heart were the elves who lay unmoving upon the blood soaked earth. We didn't have a chance at an afterlife because our life was so long. My kin—they had followed me here. And they were gone.

The sky grew overcast, the air frigid. I looked up, reining my horse in, and froze. Azog stood upon the hill, and behind him was the remainder of his army. Many were mounted upon wargs. The pale orc leered at me and shouted a command in black speech, sending his soldiers racing down the hillside towards us.

"Maladernil—"

"I see them," he cut me off and glanced around, countenance hardening. His horse moved restlessly, champing against the bit. Black blood spattered its sides, and its flanks were flecked with foam. "Hold your ground!"

Our armies began to mass together, neither gaining nor losing ground, until the next wave of orcs hit. These had wolves that could tear into the horses and put the orcs on the same level as we were. I fought without mercy. Kili was within the mountain. I would not let him fall.

I was doing very well—Legolas and I were keeping count, I was at thirty-seven— until a warg came out of nowhere and slammed into my horse, sending her reeling back. I yelled and tried to hold on, but a moment later I found myself on my back in the blood soaked dirt, gasping for breath. Despite the cold, I was drenched in sweat. I picked up my sword and scrambled to my feet, weighed down by my armor. Not a moment too soon, for a blade swung out of nowhere and hit my back, sending me stumbling forward onto my knees. Thankfully whatever had hit me was a lousy shot, for the blade did not pierce my armor. I turned and lunged at the creature, a large orc covered in back blood. It jeered at me as it attacked, and our blades clashed with a screech. There was no beauty in these creatures, no design in the way they fought. They were chaos, filth. They fought only to kill, hacking away to bring about as much suffering as they could.

As I reared back to deal it a fatal blow, the creature froze, tensed, and collapsed. The shaft of an arrow protruded from its back. I stared at it for a moment, and then looked up in time to see Legolas riding like the wind towards me. He nodded at the saddle, his intentions clear. Right as he reached me I threw myself forward and grabbed the horse's reins, then used my momentum to swing myself around the front of the horse and back up into the saddle behind my brother. I grinned as I wrapped one arm around my brother's chest; I'd had no idea if that would work or not, but I was beyond grateful that it had. Legolas reined the horse in and began riding back to the rear of the line as I used my bow to shoot down as many orcs as I could, hitting my mark every time.

"Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty—"

"You're cheating."

"I am not!"

We joined Maladernil as he called the retreat, sounding the call on his horn. "We cannot hold them," he panted. Black blood spattered his armor and cloak. "We're spread too thin."

"Regroup at the base of the mountain!" I shouted. The elves began to fall back, still fighting, and make their way to the gates of Erebor. "Pull back!"

I rode with Legolas, gripping his waist as we rode. When we reached the mountain, I dismounted and held my ground, fighting alongside Legolas. Tauriel appeared from nowhere, slashing an orc's throat when he got too close.

"It's good to see you again, Princess," she called over the din.

I parried a blow meant for my throat and plunged my other knife into the orc's gut. Forty-one. "And you as well."

"We're losing ground, Milady." One of Thranduil's soldiers appeared beside me. "What should we do?"

"Is Thranduil not commanding his own army?" I asked sharply, slicing through the tendons in a goblin's shoulder and sticking the other blade in its neck. Forty-two. "What are your orders?"

"To retreat, Milady. To abandon all of you to death. We stayed."

I glanced over at him, suddenly recognizing him. He was one of the stable hands I knew as a child. "Avelain?"

He smiled grimly, brandishing his sword and disarming an enemy before finishing him off. "Aye. It is good to see you again, Princess."

"And you. What are your orders?"

I looked around. A bubble of sorts had formed around me; it seemed that all enemies had either been taken out or were otherwise occupied. I had a few moments' respite, and I turned to Maladernil. "Brother, you have been in more battles than I. How do we best defend the mountain?"

"It would be best if those within it would join us," the general panted, finishing off his opponent with a yell. "Instead of cowering like dogs behind their wall."

"It is not—"

He cut me off. "But seeing as how that isn't going to happen any time soon, I say that we should form a half circle in front of the gates; pack the edges, make them thicker than the center. Form a living wall and let none pass. Spread the word, Avelain. Go!"

The soldier nodded and darted off. More quickly than I would have thought possible, we had pulled back to stand directly before the mountain. Our living wall was five soldiers thick: built of elves, men, and dwarves alike, all of whom were fighting for their lives. My brothers positioned me at the rear, much to my distain, but I was able to hear a commotion from within the mountain. I moved closer and stood with my ear pressed against the stone, listening. I recognized Kili's voice above the others, and I tuned out the sounds of battle—the clanging of metal on metal, the cries of the wounded and dying, the shrieks of the birds of prey—to listen to him.

He was screaming, shouting at someone—most likely Thorin—and using the same words I myself had used only days before. I wondered how he had heard them; since it was with Bilbo I had used them. Coming from his lips, they meant so much more. Tears sprang to my eyes and rolled down my cheeks, washing away the grime of battle. "I will not hide behind a wall of stone, while others fight our battles for us! It is not in my blood, Thorin."

At that moment, the line broke. I leapt forward and began fighting once more, unable to hear the rest of the conversation. I became lost in fighting. Duck, parry, stab, whirl—in a matter of moments I was yards away from where I had first stood. All around me, my people fell. Men, elves, and dwarves—all were being cut down. For a moment I found myself fighting beside Avelain, then he was swept away. A second later Maladernil stood beside me, but he stayed, keeping me in his sight at all times. I could see him tiring. One look at the sun showed that we had been fighting for hours; it was after noon. It was a miracle I had not yet been injured, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I made a mistake. Once again I blessed Thorin's sickness; it was the only think keeping Kili within the mountain where he was safe.

At that moment, the gates of Erebor exploded outward in a burst of stone and dust. One of these rocks hit me in the back, and the force of it sending me sprawling. I cracked my head upon the ground and lay still, staring blankly at my surroundings. My ears rang. Booted feet moved past me as if in a dance. Blood soaked the ground beneath my cheek.

Someone grabbed the back of my armor and hauled me to my feet. My ears cleared, and the sounds of battle returned, clear as day. Maladernil kept a firm grip on my shoulder, using his free arm to fight. Legolas appeared, eyes wide with concern.

"Take her!" Maladernil yelled, thrusting me into his arms. I shook my head, finding my footing. I wouldn't leave the battle now. I couldn't. I looked up to see thirteen fresh dwarf warriors sprinting from within the mountain, all heavily armed and ready for battle. One look at the crownless leader showed me that Thorin was free, that the sickness no longer controlled him. Instead of joy, however, I felt a stab of terror. Kili.

I broke away from Legolas and rushed after my fiancé, sprinting towards him, ignoring my brothers' yells. I reached him in moments, and we fought together once more, carving a path through the enemy. The prince of Erebor and the princess of Mirkwood fought side by side together; such a sight would never be seen again.

Kili and I fought back to back, moving fluidly and in sync as we had always done. The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity. The sky remained overcast, the grey sky a sharp contrast to the scarlet earth. Screams and shouts echoed across mountains, mingling with the screeching of metal and the squelch of boots through blood. I was tiring. I had been fighting from the beginning of the battle and had slept very little. My head pounded, and to my growing horror I could begin to discern the voices in my head that had dwelt there for so long. The battle had called them back. I sported a gash on my forearm and temple, and hot blood ran down my cheek and arm, making my grip slippery.

I fought on though, for my family. I made a promise. I would not break it now. I swung back, ready to end my fight, just as Kili cried out behind me. I whipped round to see him on his back on the ground several yards away, groaning. Azog stood mere feet from me; it appeared that he had thrown Kili out of his path to reach me. I had one source of comfort from this: Azog didn't know that Kili was of the line of Durin. If he had, nothing in Middle Earth would have saved him.

The pale orc sneered at me as I stood staring at him in shock. A sudden fiery pain raced up my leg and I screamed, impulsively swinging around and beheading the Orc that had just sliced his knife across my left calf. I fell to one knee, my shaking leg unable to support my weight. Azog stood above me, brandishing his sword in his remaining hand. The blade was longer than I was tall. I glared up in defiance, placing my palms on the ground and struggling to push myself to my feet. The Orc smirked and held his sword under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

'Someone come. Anyone—'

He kicked my in the chest, sending me skidding back over the ground. I groaned, wheezing, gasping for breath. My bow and empty quiver dug into my back. Somehow I managed to position my arm under me, and I struggled to rise. My whole body shook wildly.

'This cannot happen. I will not die at his hand.'

I grabbed my sword and used it as a cane to stand. The orc leered at me. He was enjoying this. He wanted me to fight. He wanted to toss me around like a cat would a mouse, to play before he killed me. I reached back under my cloak; blindly feeling for the blade of one of the knives Fili had given me.

The orc's smile vanished as I reared back to throw the blade, and he swung his sword. It hit me in the side, and I screamed as pain tore through chest, hip, and leg. The force of the blow flung me to the side, and I crashed into the ground several yards away. My head slammed against the stone, and stars danced before my eyes. I lay still, shaking. Blood soaked my armor. Azog appeared, standing over me with his sword hovering feet above my heart.

I reached weakly for my sword, blindly searching for the blade that had left my hand when I fell. I couldn't find it. Tears fell down my cheeks. This was it. I couldn't fight. I could barely move.

'At least they're safe.' Yes. A sense of calm swept over me. They were safe. I would die knowing they were safe.

The pale orc's blade began to descend, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the blow to fall. A moment later, I felt something jerk me backwards as an agonized bellow filled the air. My eyes snapped open. I lay on the ground several feet away, Fili and Kili kneeling beside me. Their fingers were wrapped around the leather straps of my armor. They had pulled me out of the way.

Azog stood frozen, eyes wide with shock. The tip of an elven blade—Orcrist—protruded from his breastplate. Thorin stood behind him, hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword. He was breathing heavily, eyes bright, but he was himself. The darkness had retreated.

"Do not touch her, filth," he breathed. Azog fell to his knees as Thorin released his grip on the sword and stepped back. The orc turned around to stare at Thorin, but the king's eyes were already on me. He was concerned, frightened for me. "Aeyera—"

Before he could finish, before I could blink, Azog jerked around and plunged his sword into Thorin's chest. An anguished, horrified scream tore from my lips as the king gasped, staring in disbelief at the blade. Azog smiled, teeth and lips dripping blood, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward, dead. I cried out once more as Thorin fell to his knees.

The brothers yelled in despair and fury and leapt to their feet, fighting off the orcs and goblins that had surged forward when they saw the king fall. Thorin collapsed onto his back, his chest heaving. I began dragging myself over to him, doing my best to ignore the trail of blood that followed behind me. After an eternity I reached him. His blue eyes roved wildly and froze on my face. He choked.

"Aeyera." His hand flopped weakly against the ground, and I took it, squeezing it as tightly as I could. Tears fell down my face. "Aeyera. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hush. Everything is going to be fine. Don't apologize, Thorin, you're going to be alright." Even as I spoke, I knew he wouldn't be fine. There was too much blood. Fili and Kili continued to fight, pushing the line of orcs farther and farther away. "You—"

The king's hands shook. "Listen to me." I bit my lip and nodded. "Thank you. You saved me."

"I failed. You're dying, Thorin!" I was nearly screaming. The sounds of battle around us faded. Fili and Kili were too far away to help. No one was coming. "I tried to save you. I'm so sorry—"

"Aeyera. You… you changed Kili. Your words… changed him. Changed me. Saved me." He coughed. Blood stained his lips, reddened his teeth. "Forgive me."

I nodded wildly. "I forgive you. I forgave you long ago."

"You have redeemed yourself," he told me softly. "You saved me." He paused. "Marry Kili. You… make him happy. You've made him—a better man. You touched… each of us. You saved—all of us—" he choked, convulsing.

"No, Thorin. You saved me." I was shaking as well, both from grief and pain. I gripped his hands tighter, as much as for my support as for his. Darkness was encroaching on my vision, and my fingers and lips were growing numb. "Thank you."

A faint smile appeared on his lips. He didn't speak for a moment, but then his expression darkened. "Tell Bilbo, and Dwalin—tell all of them, I'm sorry. Tell Fili—and Kili—I'm sorry."

I nodded. "I will."

"Aeyera."

His breath left him in a gentle exhale, and his eyes drifted off my face to rest on a point I could not see. "Thorin." I shook him slightly. He didn't respond. "Thorin! Thorin, no! Thorin—" I bowed my head over the body of the fallen king, sobs wracking my body. My voice rose to a scream. "Thorin!"

My breath come in short bursts. My whole body went numb except for my wounds, which continued to burn. Hot blood continued to flow from them, staining the ground. I fell back onto the ground, facing the sky. Darkness was falling once more. The sun had set beyond the mountain, and right above me, the clouds had opened up. I stared up at the break as my body relaxed. The first stars began to appear in the sky above me. My lips curved into a smile as my eyes closed, Thorin's words echoing in my mind as the darkness pulled me under.

'You have redeemed yourself.'