Part Three. Thorin's POV and the fight to the death.
Thorin stood, Orcrist gripped tightly in his hand, observing the silver glide of the blade stained black with Orc blood. Saved by an elf, and no other than the son of Thranduil, who had threatened to kill him, usurped his sword, and had imprisoned him and his company. Yet, Thorin recalled saving the Elf Prince from getting stabbed in back when throwing a blade into a orc.
Who would have known?
Then he saw Azog. A lone figure on the ice, waiting.
Staring at the pale orc, all feeling left him. There was nothing left in Thorin's body to comprehend the cold, murderous hatred the ran like ice in his veins. The need to kill this monster, who took everything from him. It was more or less likely that Kili had joined Fili. His sister-sons, his joy, his life...gone.
Eyes only on the pale orc, the cause of his suffering, he found himself moving forward, his hand gripping Orcrist in a readied position, wanting nothing more than to taste the blood of Azog the Defiler while he felt this elvish blade twist through flesh and bone. Perhaps it was his madness returning, but not the one from gold sickness. Oh, no, because today he had lost something far more precious than all the gold in the earth and would never get him back.
If one looked upon Thorin's face, his pale face and the iciness in his eyes showed he no longer cared nor feared whether he lived or died. Azog would be fighting a dead man...and that made Thorin Oakenshield even more dangerous. At this moment, the only thing the Dwarf King had to live for was revenge. And Kili, if he was still alive.
Azog watched with cold eagerness as his prey approached him with a readied sword. A horn of the orc armies echoed in the background, beyond Ravenhill. Behind the Orc King, the next army appeared over the hill, ready to outnumber all that stood in their path. Azog smirked, knowing fully well that Thorin Oakenshield would be outnumbered, would not survive another day.
But Thorin paid no heed to the army backing Azog. They were nothing to him. He did not fear, and he did not care. All he wanted was Azog.
And from the look of Azog, the pale orc could not agree more. Thorin Oakenshield was his and his alone.
Letting out a roar, the Orc King charged forward on the ice, swinging his giant flail with massive strength. With the instinct of a warrior, Thorin dodged the blow by pulling back. He dodged and ducked each swing, the weight crashing against the ice. He kept moving his feet and swinging his sword to swipe at his foe.
It gave a tad of satisfaction to feel it cut the pale orc, but it was not enough. Not even close. Thorin would have him skinned alive. He would have his guts spilling across the ice. He would rip out the filthy black heart of this creature and eat it. These thoughts must be what usually runs through the mind of an orc...full of hatred, bloodlust, inhumanity...but it no longer mattered to Thorin what he was becoming. He had already sunk so low in his dragon sickness that he had betrayed the trust of everyone he ever cared for. He had tried to kill the hobbit, who had been nothing but good to him. He had sent his beloved nephews to their deaths because of his surety to win, knowing not that it had been a trap.
He had made far too many mistakes and many wrongs in his life to justify himself, the previous ones the worst by far, increasing the guilt and shame in his chest that had continued eating away his soul. He had failed the ones he loved, and for that, Thorin believed there was a chance that he would burn in hell for his wrongs in the afterlife...though it would be no different from now. This hell was white, made of snow and ice as cold as death itself. Cold as the feeling in his body that made him murderous.
Azog kept swinging the flail, roaring with determination the weapon kept crashing heavily against the ice, while Thorin leapt out the way, barely missing the blow. His blood burned with battle rage, frustrated beyond words that he cannot reach the pale orc with that bloody flail of his, but he kept his mind blank, his focus sharp. He would not let his emotions best him, not like the last time he had charged at Azog, on the cliffs of the Misty Mountains, overwhelmed with rage and shock to discover the pale orc was alive and a threat to his family. He would have lost his head that night if it hadn't been for Bilbo.
Azog had taken advantage of his mindless grief and used it against him, easily knocking him down during the charge. Thorin would not make that mistake again. Fili would be the last person Azog will take from him. Kili will not be touched.
The ice started to crack and Thorin slipped a little, waving his arms to regain his balance. His stomach jumped with slight panic, but quickly swallowed it. The cracks continued to spread. Azog's movements started to slow, no doubt revealing his foe's growing exhaustion for the dwarf's dodging. His heart quickened, feeling movement underneath him, splitting beneath his feet.
With a growl, Azog swung his flail again, and Thorin jumped back in the nick of time...but the flail had broken through the ice, causing a platform of ice to move suddenly underneath the two from the currents of the water below. Thorin gasped sharply as he nearly lost his footing, and ducked from the flail again.
The orc and dwarf continued to struggle with their balance of the floating platform of ice, Azog swinging his flail and Thorin dropping to the ground to avoid the blow. He was out of breath, the strength wavering as he felt his boot touch the freezing water, but he jumped back onto his feet...only to have flail sweep across his legs, causing him to flip over and land heavily on his back. Thankfully, he didn't slip into the water, where his body would be lost forever.
He gasped and rolled out of the way when the flail crashed beside him again. He kept rolling as the damned object buried itself in the places where he had been seconds prior. Rotating in a circle around the platform with these pointless blows, Azog grew angry. He was getting impatient, losing his focus with all his freelanced swinging...good. Thorin rolled out of the way one more time, before skidding from his knees to his feet, and charged under the arm of the Defiler, his elvish sword cutting across the thighs with a sickening tear.
Azog gasped and fell to his knees, but as a master of pain, the orc's resolve return and became angrier than ever over the scratch. Knowing Thorin Oakenshield to be behind him, he bellowed and swung his weapon backwards, high over his head, not even bothering to aim. Thorin jumped back when the weight landed deeply into the ice near the steel tip of his boots.
Thorin looked up at Azog with his darkest glare, daring the orc to continue. Come on, he thought with growl. Is that the best you can do, filth?
Azog yanked on the chain, but the weight was stuck too deeply into the ice. The situation would have been humorous if Thorin was not too driven by his own need to kill. He was tempted to charge the pale orc right there, but if he moved, both would fall into the water. Looking humiliated, Azog swung the long sword attached to his arm, but Thorin backed away, the floating ice tilting back and forth beneath their feet. Dwarf and orc stood on either side of the platform, keeping it balanced, neither daring to move from their stance.
Suddenly, Azog's eyes widened with disbelief, his gaze looking beyond Thorin and into the view.
Thorin did not dare turn around, refusing to distract himself from his enemy, but he felt it. The gray sky that had been heavy with bleakness and misery started to shine from the breaking sunlight. The same bright color as Fili's hair. The warmth his back like the surge of hope that breathed ever so slightly from his frozen heart, thinking his Fili must be beside him at this moment, sending him help from the skies...
The eagles were coming. Their song was the same as they had been the last time Thorin had woken up from Azog's attack. Their flock swooped down upon the marching orc army ahead, the lord of the eagles ridden by none other than Radaghast the Brown. They swooped down upon the orcs, plucked them from the air, and dropped them high from the ground. As they easily rampaged through the army, another shape had fallen from the skies. The shape of a man quickly transformed into a bear, crashing and tearing through armies with a viciousness feared by even Azog the Defiler. His roars could be heard from miles away.
Beorn. Thorin felt his lips twitch. The orcs did not stand a chance now. The skinchanger also had a personal score to settle, one that involved every orc crushed and mauled with his teeth and claws.
For a moment, as the skies turned more golden, he could see Fili. His golden lion. He could hear his laughter in the air, both as a child and a grown dwarf. He could still remember the lad's skill for strategy, his creative instinct of becoming a fighter and a devious player at once. He could also see Kili's bright smile, the golden twinkle in his brown eyes that always lead to trouble. His adventurous, mischievous Kili.
Mischief. That was one of the few things his nephews had in common. A trait that gave Thorin his silver hairs early, constantly driving him near to insanity, but it was also the part of them that brought him to life. Even after Fili's death, Thorin still could feel his mischief. He knew exactly what Fili would do right now, and Thorin wanted nothing more than to act on that pleasure.
The icy platform bumped land. Azog had turned around to watch with dismay as the fifth army attacked his troops. It had been his mistake.
Thorin dropped his sword aside with a clatter, not needing it for what he was about to do. Watch me, Fili, he thought with a tiny spark in his chest. This is for you. By the time, Azog had turned around, Thorin had lifted the flail's weight with both arms with determination and thrusted it at Azog, who caught the weight impulsively before it knocked him over.
When the pale orc looked up in confusion, seeing a small twinkle in Thorin Oakenshield's icy gaze, the Dwarf King only took one step back when he realized too late what had happened. Thorin watched silently as the ice platform tilted under the extra weight of Azog and the weapon; his feet slipped and flail dropped into the water with a splash. The Defiler snarled as his hands claws at the ice, staring menacingly at the Dwarf King, who remained unmoved as he watched the orc get pulled into the water by his own flail, the currents cutting off his outraged roars.
As the icy waters swallowed the Defiler into its dark depths, Thorin was met by silence. He was now certain the waters would drown away the wretched creature from this world, his body lost forever beneath the ice. A heavy, shaky breath escaped him, his beating heart still racing from the action. The tiny spark within him had diminished and was replaced with emptiness. Cold, bitter emptiness that threatened to break him.
His Fili was still dead. Kili was still somewhere out there, alone and consuming in the grief for his brother...or the orcs got him, as well. No, he couldn't believe it, for if it was so, Thorin knew the loss would destroy him, in mind and body. He would never forgive himself, never recover. He suspected half of his mind was already gone the moment he lost Fili, but he would not show it in front of Kili. He had to go find his sister-son. They would collect Fili's body and get as far away from this cursed place as possible.
They would mourn for his heir together. Thorin would protect Kili with ever fiber of his being if need be, even if the lad hated him for what he has done. He was probably even blaming him for Fili's death, because Mahal knows Thorin blamed himself. He would spent the rest of his life making it up to him from the way he was treated previously. He would let Kili know that he loved him more than gold, more than life, more than anything….that he and his brother were the best thing that ever happened to him, his heart and his soul…..and always would be.
Feeling numb, swallowing the tears that threatened to shatter him right then, Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his fists clenching so hard they drew blood. He had to stay strong. He had to. Kili needed him...or rather, Thorin needed him more, just for reassurance that he was alive and safe. Fili would have wanted this.
He had to find Kili, and he had to see Fili's body again. And he needed to find Bilbo. He needed to apologize, beg for his forgiveness even when he didn't deserve it, for he cherished the hobbit's friendship greatly and desperately needed to rekindle it. Bilbo was as good as family, even when the halfling didn't realize it. He was good, gentle, caring, and so full of surprises. Like Fili and Kili, Bilbo Baggins made him feel stronger, braver, and perhaps had even melted his heart on most occasions, to help him remember that not all things in the world were full of darkness. Thorin had never been more disgusted with himself when remembering the way he nearly thrusted Master Baggins from the ramparts, the look on Bilbo's face through it all. He remembered the dwarves yelling in panic, Kili and Fili trying desperately to stop him…..the guilt was torture.
There were so many wrongs that he had to right. He would give a large portion of the treasure to Lake Town, and the white jewels to Thranduil. Even then, it would never be able to undo the past. It did not matter to him. All he needed was the forgiveness of two of the most important people in his life. If Fili were alive, it would have made three. Thorin let out another shaky breath, ignoring the ache in his chest that suffocated him.
He will not break. He would not give in, however much he wanted to.
Slowly, Thorin knelt down and picked up Orcrist. When he looked up, he spotted movement beneath the ice. His eyes widened as he watched the shape of Azog's body gliding beneath the surface of the ice, his eyes still open and moving.
So, the Defiler managed to loosen the weight...but it would do no good. The freezing waters alone should be seizing the orc's body while it drowned him.
Thorin knew he should walk away, let the frozen river do its work. Azog meant nothing to him. Nothing more than a spreading infestation that has wiped out most of his family and so many others, now being washed away into oblivion...yet Thorin wanted to watch it happen. He wanted to see the light leave the monster's eyes. He wanted his own cold, empty face to be the last thing that piece of filth ever saw alive, so that he would know that had failed to end the line of Durin.
Thorin walked slowly above Azog, their eyes meeting from the barrier of the ice. You killed my kin. Here I stand, above your corpse, Azog the Defiler. You may have taken my heart...but you will never have me. He hoped the barren life in his eyes read every thought his mind to the orc.
Then the orc closed his eyes. But still, Thorin kept watching. Instinct told him to. Something felt wrong.
Suddenly Azog's eyes popped open. A burst of fire erupted through Thorin's foot from the tip of a blade, nailing him to the ice. The Dwarf King let out a cry of shock and agony, unable to move from where he stood.
Then the giant Gundabad orc exploded from the ice, knocking Thorin on his back. Stunned by his own foolishness, fear finally entered Thorin's system with full force as Azog now stood over him, alive and still breathing. As Azog swung his spike at him forcefully, Thorin managed to block the blows. Then he managed to block the spike, the tip stopping an inch from his chest.
Struggle as he might from the pale orc's strength, his breathing quickening with brief panic as he meant the fetish snarl of his lifelong enemy, Thorin knew he was trapped.
To Be Continued! Hanging from a cliff!
This was an emotionally draining chapter, just so you know. Every time I watched Thorin fight the final battle with Azog, the emotionless expression on Thorin really broke my heart, making him look dead inside and more dangerous than ever, showing how much Fili's death affected him. And then at the point when the eagles came, if you've noticed how the sunlight appeared in the bleary sky (symbolism for hope;), I thought of relating the golden colors of Fili's hair and the colors of heaven in the sky, adding more symbolism in that moment when the eagles came to defeat the orc armies. Then when Thorin threw Azog's own weapon at him, looking almost smug, it almost seemed like he was repeating something Fili and Kili would do. I know in this story, Fili and Kili don't die, but in the movie, I thought these specific parts represented the spirits of them fighting back with Thorin, that even death itself would not stop them from being by Thorin's side until the end.
I think we all know what going to happen from here. All the same, there's still Kili and Bilbo to worry about. Up next is the second to the finale.
Next will be Thorin, Kili, and maybe Bilbo's POV.