Author's Note: I have nothing to say. I'm still running on a high from the last chapter. ;D

Chapter 35-Chaos and Madness

An army of elves stood before their gates.

Clad in shining golden armor, they stood in perfect formation, their stillness almost unnerving. Karra twisted a piece of hair around her finger, wishing she could step back and hide behind someone. Everyone wore armor except for her. The circlet seemed so insignificant now—she had felt like a queen sweeping out onto the platform beside Fili, wearing a crown.

The Elven king was speaking. Karra dropped her hand to her side and tried not to fidget, listening to his words. As he spoke, Bard, who sat beside him on a magnificent white horse, drew something from the pack at his side.

The large, white jewel shone like nothing Karra had ever seen before, a glow that seemed to come from its very depths. The Arkenstone! The heart of the mountain, the king's jewel. For a moment, Karra felt something seething inside her—was it anger, or fear? Shouts erupted from the balcony—shouts of rage, indignation, shock. Thorin stood silent, his eyes flaming. She heard Fili's voice beside her, crying how did you lay your hands on the symbol of our heritage?

"That stone belongs to the king!" Kili's shout rose above the others, and for a moment, everyone fell silent. "It is ours!"

"Then the king shall have it," Bard said with something of a shrug. Closing his hand around it, he slipped it back into his pack. "But first," he said, "he must honor his word."

Silence fell. Sudden realization hit Karra, and she turned to Bilbo. "You didn't!" she said softly, as the others began to murmur amongst themselves.

"I did," he said. "There was nothing else I could do. I couldn't let it come to war."

"But…" She shook her head, trying to understand. "But why…" Bilbo held up a finger, a look of fear on his face. Thorin had turned, and was looking at them.

"You!" His voice was hard and dark. "Did you steal it? Did you steal what was rightfully mine?" His eyes swept to Karra. "And you! You worthless half-dwarf, you were in league with him! Thieves!" He stepped forward, his face contorted with rage.

"I took it!" cried Bilbo, pushing Karra behind him. "It was me, only me! She had no part in this!"

"So you would steal from me," Thorin said, his voice soft and yet edged with intensity.

"Steal? Oh, no, no, no." Bilbo's voice shook, but he stood, looking Thorin in the eye. "I…I wouldn't call it that. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I'm an honest one." His voice steadied, and he stood straighter. "I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure, and I'm willing to let it stand against my claim."

"You lie!" Thorin's eyes seemed to glow with madness now, and Karra could almost feel the heat. "You commiserated against me, to take what was mine, and mine alone!" His head held high, he shouted orders to the others. "Throw him from the ramparts! And you," his eyes rested on Karra again, "you are banished."

The others stepped back as if a wave had hit them. "Did you not hear me?" Thorin shouted. "I said, throw him from the ramparts! And you! Why are you still here?" His dark glance passed from Bilbo to Karra, and back to Bilbo. He seized Bilbo and shoved him towards the wall. With a cry, Karra ran forward, but Fili put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Karra, no. Let me deal with him." He gripped his uncle's arm. "Uncle, let her stay. She has done nothing." His voice was even, and calm. "And do not hurt him."

"Are you in league with them too?" Thorin's voice echoed over the plain. "She is banished! I said, throw him from the ramparts!"

"No!" cried Karra, anger rushing over her. "No, don't you dare!" She grabbed Bilbo's arm and pulled as hard as she could. Thorin raised a hand to strike her.

"Leave!" He clenched his fist. "Leave now, or risk my wrath!"

"Karra." Fili pulled her back. She felt suddenly limp. "For your sake, leave." She felt fear engulf her like a wave. Seeing Thorin's mad glance, she turned, clutched Fili's arm one last time, and ran, down the steps and into Erebor.

She ran for what seemed an eternity, her feet barely touching the ground, possessed by the fear that Thorin was behind her, ready to unleash his wrath on her. Her feet made their way through the endless maze of hallways and corridors to her room, where she collapsed on her bed, breathing in short gasps. Thorin hated her, Bilbo could be dead, and she had done nothing, only fled in fear like the worthless half-dwarf woman she was. She was banished from Erebor, in the middle of a war.

She lay, her face buried in the pillow, trying to quell the wild beating of her heart. Everything was going wrong, just when she should be the happiest girl in the world.

"Karra."

She jumped. "Go away," she said, not daring to look. "Just…go. Please."

"Karra, it's me. I can't apologize enough for my uncle's words."

Karra took a deep breath, and looked up. Fili stood in the doorway.

"Fili," she said. "I should be happy and everything's wrong."

"I know." Fili sat at the edge of the bed, stroking her hair. "I know. I'm so sorry. Please…please don't think I would ever stand behind what my uncle said. I would give my kingdom for you. If you are banished, so am I. You know that, Karra." She felt his hand come to a gentle rest on her hair, and he closed his eyes for a moment. "But Karra…" he began. "Did you know? About the stone."

Karra rolled over and looked up. "Not you too! Do you trust me?"

"I want to trust you, Karra. I really do. But I understand if you didn't tell him the truth."

"I didn't know! I swear I didn't." She sat up. "Fili. Please. Leave."

"But I want to trust you, Karra!"

"You want to trust me. But you can't. I understand, Fili. I get it. Just go."

"I'm sorry, Karra." Fili stood, and his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry." He took her hand, and pressed it. "I'll be back! I promise." He opened his mouth again as if to speak, then closed it, turned, and was gone. Karra stared after him. She wanted to say wait, don't go! But he was gone, and she slumped back onto the bed.

She never knew how long she sat there, staring at the wall. Hours passed, it seemed. Noises began to creep into her consciousness. A crash here, a shout there, echoing down the halls as if from far away. A deep dread settled in her heart and a sudden, wild, vague fear took hold of her mind. She set one foot on the floor and took a deep breath. She set the other on the floor, closed her eyes, and took another breath. Then as if possessed by some wild notion, she took off running down the hallways and corridors, and up to the front gate.

No one was there, but the noises grew louder.

She dashed up the steps and onto the ramparts. As she laid eyes on the plain, the deep dread she had felt just moments before became a terrible reality.

Shapes swarmed in chaos over what was now a battlefield. As she stood there, her feet rooted to the platform, she saw that not only were elves and men fighting, but—dwarves? A whole army of them? And—her stomach churned.

Orcs?

There were orcs here. Where had orcs come from? Why were there orcs here? She had expected the worst, and this was worse. Her feet seemed to take a life of their own. She couldn't stop herself; she fled back down the steps and away, as far away as she could. She found herself sitting in the now empty armory, her back against the wall, trying to force herself past the crippling numbness that the morning had laid on her.

There were orcs here.

Erebor was being attacked.

And she was sitting here in the empty, useless armory, doing nothing.

But what could she do?

Nothing.

She ran her fingers over a suit of armor that hung on the wall, wondering what it must feel like to wear one of these things. It was probably heavy, even heavier than the sword she had tried—and failed—to lift last night.

Last night.

Swallowing, she lifted another sword from the wall. It was smaller, and, to her surprise, lighter. She swung it around, remembering all the lessons Fili had given her. How much did she remember?

She swung it forward, as if clashing with an orc. She plunged it into the orc's chest and grinned with imaginary triumph. Wheeling around, she lopped a head off and clashed swords with an elf. The sudden turn nearly threw her off balance, and she slipped, steadying herself with some effort. Grabbing the hilt of the sword with both hands, she dared the others to come at her.

And she imagined thousands of orcs, all swarming towards her.

And she was standing here in the armory, giggling about it.

How could she?

All laughter gone, she looked around the room one last time, and tiptoed from the armory, daring one last look back at the suits of armor covered in dust. They seemed almost eerie now. Gripped with a wild, fearful urge to see the battle again, she was off again towards the front gate before she could stop herself.

More light filtered into the halls than should have, considering the ramparts. She shivered. As she emerged from the corridor, the sight made her heart sink even deeper than she thought it could have. The gate lay smashed in pieces, debris scattered into Erebor and across the plain—the battlefield.

Karra ran forward. Why was the gate smashed? What had happened? Where were the dwarves? She swallowed, and forced herself to look out onto the battlefield. Chaos reigned. Orcs, dwarves, elves, and men fought in a whirl of ever-changing motion and Karra steadied herself against the dizziness that overwhelmed her at the sight.

"Karra!" She jumped at the sound. Bofur stood at the gate, his hair and clothes disheveled, dirty, and streaked with blood, clutching a weapon. "Karra!" he panted. "Get away from here! It's dangerous for a lass like you!"

"Bofur!" she cried. "What's happening? What's going on? Why are there orcs here? Where did the dwarf army come from?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Bofur leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. "I can't answer all your questions—not now." With a yell, an orc hurtled towards him. He plunged his sword through its chest. "I'm a bit busy." He waved his hand. "Now go! You're in danger here!"

Karra hesitated, then turned. "Um…thank you. I…I hope everything goes well!" What kind of response was that? "I mean…I'm sorry…"

"No, I understand. Go!" Bofur shoved her away, and before she even had a chance to say goodbye, he was gone again, out into the middle of the battle. She heard a horrifying yell behind her, and whirled. An orc flew off the battlefield and landed on top of her, growling and choking. She grasped both hands around the hilt of the sword she still held and shoved it upwards as hard as she could. Angry now, the orc rolled to its feet and drove her backwards, panting like a wild beast.

She could not let that thing enter Erebor.

She whipped around and ran as fast as she could towards the gate with a yell. The orc charged after her, spitting and spewing orcish curses. She thought she heard a shout, but the orc bore down on her so fast she could only glance in its direction. Forgetting every bit of training Fili had given her, she held her sword in front of her and threw herself at the creature. They rolled across the battlefield. She felt a searing, tearing pain in the side of her face. And then she was sitting on the orc's chest, her sword driven through its heart.

Panting, she stood. She shoved her way under an orc, and through a row of elves, towards the great, broken gate of Erebor. She swung her sword back and forth, back and forth, clearing the way in front of her. Another orc hurtled towards her and she caught its blow with her sword. Back and forth, back and forth, don't die, don't get killed, don't get stabbed, I think my arms might fall off, that doesn't matter, get back to the gates, get back to the gates.

What gates?

She couldn't see the gates anymore.

She felt a blow from behind, and her sword flew from her hand and skidded across the ground. She reached her hand forward and groped for it, but a solid blow landed on the back of her head and she saw a flash of red light, fading to white. The blue jewel of her circlet shone in front of her. The braided wires were smashed and broken. She clasped her hand around it. The orc's face was close to her now, breathing its stinking breath down her throat. She shoved the broken circlet upward. The wires collided with the orc's eye, and it let out a scream. She rolled over, snatched a shard of broken metal that lay beside her, and jumped to her feet.

She shoved the sharp metal forward, and drew blood from the orc's hand. It drew back, and she rushed at it, shoving the makeshift knife into its head. It lunged at her, growling and slathering. She swung the knife and the broken circlet wildly anywhere she could, and took off at a run towards the gates—though she didn't know now which way the gates were. She glanced behind her and the orc's blow caught her upside the head. She staggered.

The jewel fell from the circlet. She seized it, and threw it as hard as she could. It hit the orc between the eyes and it fell.

Wait a minute.

Had she killed it?

As she stood there, staring at the dead orc in front of her, the rest of the circlet fell from her hand. Above her, she saw the gates of Erebor, so close, so close. She struggled to her feet. A few more steps and she would be there...just a few more steps….

A hand grabbed her and she jerked forward. Her knife flew from her hand, and she watched it fall as if in slow motion. She lunged for it, but it flew just ahead of her and seemed to bounce along the ground. The sun shone white in her eyes. She felt as if she were floating above the battle. The throbbing in her head seemed to take over her whole body as she stumbled forward. A few more steps…that was all…

From behind, a blow knocked her to her knees. She turned to see an orc poised above her, its sword raised.

A flash of white light, mingled with red, searing pain, and the sun no longer shone in her eyes. Ahead of her, she seemed to see a vision, of her apartment, of her room in Erebor, and yet through the vision, as if in a haze, she saw the orcs swarming over the battlefield in chaos. The throbbing in her head melded with the throbbing that had taken over her whole body, and seemed to lift her from the ground, and then blackness engulfed her consciousness and she knew nothing more.

Gosh, I'm so nervous about posting the next chapter. And also really…um…well…*evil author grin*.