Soooo, let's change the plot into a different direction, shall we? But first of all, again a reminder (yes, I know, I babble too much before each chapter but because I keep on getting messages about this- sorry): the plot of this story is a lot different from the book because if I just rewrote the book it would a) be boring and b) pretty much illegal, so yes, I am aware that they never fought wargs like that or been kicked out of Rivendell. I know. I changed it deliberately because I do not want to rewrite the book. Also, if you like elves more than anything, do not read this story. I'm writing from a dwarven perspective and elves will not score well here.
That being said, I noticed that you guys LOVE my cliffhangers, so have some more! :D
The clangour of blades was audible throughout the entire forest.
It was Dwalin who killed one of the beasts first, bringing his massive axes down on the animals neck once, then once more until its nasty head rolled across the grass, right in front of poor Bilbos feet. The hobbit fought bravely not to vomit and was quickly pulled along by Dwalin to aid the rest of the company.
Since the light brown monster, that had attacked Bifur and Dori had disappeared, allegedly fled the battle, the two had gone on to aid Gandalf and Balin and as soon as Dwalin and Bilbo arrived, Glamdring pierced through the wargs chest and killed it.
Only a few moments later, Bofur buried his pickaxe deep into his opponents' skull.
They stood still for a moment, trying to regain their breath, looking from one dead warg to the other.
"That was most unusual", Gandalf muttered, quite reluctant to put his weapons away just yet.
"Where is Thorin?", Bilbo suddenly chirped up and then panic broke out.
"Split up", Balin ordered. "Be careful. We must find Thorin and the boys!"
Thorin, in the meantime had managed to turn onto his back but was still unable to get back onto his feet. He kicked the beast in its ugly face numerous times, certain that he broke various bones in its skull but the warg didn't seem to care much. He had tasted dwarven blood and was eager for more.
Letting go of Thorins leg, he towered over the King and growled in a direful tone. Thorin did not understand and did not care. He lifted Orcrist to take another swing at the animals face but the warg was quicker. His teeth sank onto the blade, this time effectively ripping it from Thorins hands. The sword flew through the air and got stuck in a nearby treetrunk.
The warg seemed to sneer at him.
With his weapon gone and his leg injured, chances grew slim for the dwarven King, yet no sign of fear showed on Thorins face. Rather a grim determination to take the animal out with bare hands if he had to.
When the enormous teeth came down the first time, Thorin managed to kick the wargs chest, causing him to back off a little. He did not get far however, before the huge animal was above him once again and once again he bit down on the dwarf, this time burying his teeth deeply into the thick fur of Thorins coat, right above his throat. He felt the wolf rip and tear at his clothes, trying to get to his skin underneath to bite his head off. It was his fathers ring, simple but precious that had been in the family for generations, that eventually saved Thorins life. For it was the diamond on the ring, that Thorin unintentionally but luckily buried deep into the animals eye, as he threw a punch at its face.
The warg snarled and quickly pulled back, ripping out a great amount of Thorins fur collar, as well as something that gleamed silver in the dim light.
Thorins eyes widened in shock when he noticed what it was, that was dangling from the wargs fangs.
"No!"
It was the key to Erebor, that had hung on a necklace around his neck. Their only chance to get into the mountain.
The warg, about to attack again, stopped midway when he noticed Thorins bewildered expression and only then realized that something of enormous value must have been snatched away from the dwarf and was now in his possession. His vicious eyes lit up and something, that sounded like a dark snicker came from the animal, before he slowly backed down, his gaze still fixed on Thorin.
"No! Don't you dare!", the dwarf yelled but it was too late.
With one last glance, the warg turned around and sprinted off into the brushwood, the key to Erebor dangling from his fangs.
Thorins scream echoed through the entire forest. He desperately tried to get to his feet but the bite in his leg made him slow and hurt. He stared after the massive animal, eyes wide and terrified.
His comrades found him like that. Dwalin pulled him up to his feet, worried but at the same time relieved that their leader was still alive.
"The key. It has the key", Thorin whispered, still not able to grasp what just happened.
"What key?", Dori asked.
"The key to Erebor?!", Gandalf thundered and for a long time nobody said anything.
Their one hope to reclaim their homeland was gone, carried off to someplace unknown.
Once Thorin had regained his composure, not holding onto Dwalin anymore because his pride forbade him to show the pain his injured leg caused him, he began to look around.
"Where are Fíli and Kíli?", he asked, panic beginning to arise within him once more.
"They didn't fight with us", Glóin remarked, pointing into the direction in which the youngsters had disappeared after the wargs had attacked them.
"Find them!", Thorin bellowed.
The boys, in the meantime, had their own battle to fight.
Kílis cry had startled Fíli but before he had been able to turn around, the black warg had already reached him, biting down in his back. Kíli watched in horror as his older brother was swept from his feet and shaken violently like a ragdoll. It was not dwarven flesh though, that the warg had buried his teeth in. It was Kílis quiver, that Fíli had been carrying for his brother ever since they had set out from Rivendell.
As soon as the warg realised what he was holding onto, he let go and sent Fíli flying. The dwarven prince landed on his back, the torn quiver sticking into his spine and all air was pressed from his lungs. Before he could even move an inch, the horrible beast was towering over him, holding him down with one massive black paw firmly standing on his chest. He felt the claws digging through his vest.
He saw the dreadful, scarred and bloody face of the beast right before him, his breath reeked of blood and murder and the young dwarf stared in fright for a moment. The massive jaws snapped shut, the fangs clicking dangerously as the warg brought his head closer and closer to Fílis throat.
It was then, that the boy suddenly grabbed one of the many scattered arrows from the quiver, that had fallen out and forcefully drove it into the already bleeding, empty eye socket of the warg.
The animal howled in pain, jerking his enormous head up.
Fíli quickly crawled from underneath the animal and got back onto his feet, drawing both his swords. His brother shivered from the shock, clinging onto the rock but unable to move. Every time he tried to get up, his knees immediately buckled and gave in and his head was spinning from the pain that was still shooting throughout his chest and into his limbs.
For a moment, the warg tried to shake off the arrow but on realizing that it was stuck deeply, he lapsed into a rage and went straight for Fíli. The blades of his swords crashed down into the black fur again and again but the beast continued to snap at the dwarf, not caring about pain or danger.
First, he ripped the blade from Fílis right hand and sent it flying. Another swing and he caught the other blade between his enormous fangs as well and began pulling and tearing it violently, shaking the young dwarf badly, that was clinging onto hilt for dear life.
Kíli watched dumbstruck. His throat felt too dry to scream, not a single sound came from him but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the scenery before him. Fear had possessed every single part of his body but he felt something else creeping on him. It was guilt, that slowly began eating him up alive from the inside. Guilt that he could not help Fíli. Anger that he wasn't able to move. Fear that he might lose his brother.
The other blade flew through the air and got stuck in the ground a few feet from Kíli.
Fíli, already about to reach for the daggers in his boots, was swiftly tackled by the warg and blown off his feet. Distracted for a moment, he didn't see the beast preparing the next attack.
Suddenly, a bolt of pain shot through his side as the enormous animal sunk its teeth deeply through his clothes, right into his flesh. He screamed in agony, a sound that cut deep through his brothers heart. Again, the warg began to shake him violently, the teeth buried so deeply in his side, that nothing could have torn the massive jaws apart.
Already believing this to be the end, Kíli prepared to hurl himself on the battle field despite the pain in a last, most likely vain attempt to save his brother when the warg suddenly turned around and picked up speed, dashing across the grassland, dragging Fíli along.
Grass, pebbled and dirt were flying at his face, he couldn't see clearly and all he heard was the panting of the beast and his own body scraping along the uneven ground. His side began to go numb and it became harder and harder for him to move his arms and shoulders. No matter how many times he struggled, the jaws of the warg were closed around him like a bench vice.
With one last effort and the remaining strength he had left, he lifted his right arm to his left, drawing one of his throwing knives from his sleeve. Gravel and sharp rocks were cutting into his neck, face and shoulders but Fíli ignored any pain. He struck out, gathered all his strength one last time and rammed the knife deep into the animals temple.
The beast howled in pain, the young dwarf flying from its jaws, tumbling across the grassland. The warg still ran for a few feet before he began to stumble and finally crashed down onto the ground, burying Fíli underneath his enormous black body.
When Thorin and the remaining dwarves reached the grassland, they found Kíli sitting by the rock, shaking violently. Tears were streaming down his face, yet the youngster was unable to mutter a single word.
Thorin was by his nephews side first, pulling the shaking body close.
"Shhh, calm down. Calm down", he tried to hush his nephew but failed miserably. The others began looking around for Fíli but he was nowhere to be found.
"Come on now", Thorins voice still sounded unusually gentle, even though he already began ordering he nephew again. "Crying won't help you. Where is your brother?"
It took Kíli a while until he was able to form words again. By now, the dwarves as well as Bilbo and Gandalf stood around him, looking down in fear and worry. Especially the little hobbit was close to tears himself, when he saw the desperation and agony on Kílis face.
"It dragged him away", Kíli whispered. "It just dragged him away I- I couldn't help him."
"It's not your fault", Thorin tried to soothe him but fighting his own urge to tremble, as fear of losing his beloved nephew crept over him.
"I couldn't move, I- I-"
Kíli buried his face in the fur of Thorins coat.
"We will find him, don't worry. We'll find him."
The ones who were least injured and still able to run quickly set off first, amongst them Bifur, Dwalin, Ori and Glóin, as well as small Master Baggins, whose hairy feet carried him across the grassland more swiftly than he had ever known. He swallowed his fear, desperate to find the elder of the two brothers of whom, though teasing him constantly, he had grown quite fond.
Kíli had been pulled to his shaking feet by Thorin and Balin and, leaning onto Óin and Nori, followed the rest of the company as quickly as he could. Thorin tried his best not to limb and give his nephew even more reason to worry.
"Look thoroughly!", Thorin shouted at his companions and all of them knew how hard he tried not to show his concern and worry.
It was Bilbo who eventually discovered the body of the black warg in quite a distance. The hobbit approached slowly, drawing his sword. Carefully, he poked the beast a couple of times before he was sure that the warg was actually dead. Fílis black throwing knife still stuck in its head but no sign was to be seen of the young dwarf. Until Bilbo spotted a hand on the ground, that peeked from a hem made of light brown fur, stuck underneath the massive animal.
"Fíli", Bilbo whispered. He carefully reached out and touched the cold fingers, before panic struck him and he began to scream.
"HE'S HERE! HERE!"
Alarmed, the other dwarves came running across the grassland. When they found Fíli lying underneath the dead monster, Bifur, Glóin and Dwalin began pulling on the black fur instantly, needing all their strength to move the massive animal. It took a while until they had managed to pull the beast off Fílis body.
Kílis knees buckled again and he sank to the ground at the sight of his brother.
Under the enormous weight of the warg, Fíli had been pressed into the ground. He bled from numerous cuts to his face, neck and hands, his clothes were torn and bloody and he didn't move anymore, his eyes closed. His vest was stained in blood at his side.
"No", Thorin muttered, holding onto Balin before his knees could give in as well.
They stared at the young dwarf in shock, Bilbo shaking like a leaf. Óin approached the unmoving body of the youngster and kneeled down beside him. He tore off one of his gloves and held his fingers in front of Fílis face for a while, before he looked up at Thorin.
"He's not breathing anymore."