A/N

Hello me hearties, how nice of you to join me again! I'm glad you're still with me after all these chapters!

And finally it is here. The chapter you have all been waiting for! The chapter that answers the question you all have been asking at some point. Will the line of Durin live on? Will Thorin, Fíli and Kíli survive? Will they perish?

I already know, but you don't. So I will no longer keep you up. I only want to say one thing, before you continue reading. All I have to say right now is; thank you for the reviews! I'm glad you enjoy this story!

Is This the End?

Várar ducks as an orcs swings his sword at her. Then she slices her sword across his abdomen, while the creature is still hovering above her. Dark orc-blood flies everywhere as Várar spins around, before standing up straight again and finishes him off.

As the orc falls to the ground, she hears another one approach her. Várar grinds her teeth, as she turns around again. Is there no end to those creatures? With her sword raised, ready to strike the orc.

'Gandalf!'

Várar sighs in relieve as the grey wizards is standing in front of her, instead of another orc. To see a friendly face is a nice change after all those ugly orcs.

The wizard nods at her. Then his eyes turn to something to her left and Várar follows his gaze. A massive troll is coming their way, but is stopped by a handful of human spearmen and arches. As they release their spears and arrows, the troll grunts and growls in pain. Then he falls to the ground. Dead.

'All hope is not yet lost,' Várar mutters as she watches the men stand their ground.

Gandalf agrees, stating they might even survive the attack. Suddenly Bilbo cries out for the wizard, causing him and Várar to look at the small creature. Várar hurries over to him, followed by Gandalf after he kills an orc.

'It's Thorin,' the hobbit tells them, pointing at four figures as they head to Ravenhill.

'And Fíli and Kíli too,' Várar says, recognising the dwarves. 'And Dwalin.'

'His best warriors. He's going to cut off the snake's head.'

Várar smiles as she watches the four warriors ride towards the pale orc. Then she turns her attention to the street below. Two rides ride up towards Dale, killing all the orcs in their way.

'Legolas,' she cries out for her brother in relieve. 'Tauriel! Up here!'

Legolas doesn't even look up as he guides his horse to where they are standing. Having heard his sister's voice is enough to know where she is. And with this many orcs around, he has to get to her as quickly as possible.

'Várar!' Legolas calls out for her as he jumps off his horse to embrace his sister. 'What are you doing here? You should be back home!'

But before Várar can respond, Gandalf greets the elf, walking up to them as Bilbo follows him.

'Várar, you need to leave, right now,' Legolas says as he looks at her. 'There is a second army on its way. Bolg leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us!'

'Gundabad? So this was their plan all along. Azog engages our forces, then Bolg seeps in from the north.'

'Wha... The north... Where is the north, exactly?'

'Ravenhill!' Várar answers to hobbit as she turns around to look at the said hill.

Bilbo follows her gaze, to she her looking at the hill. It takes him a moment, before realising it's the same hill a sThorin had taken off to.

'But-but Thorin is up there!' he shouts out. 'And Fíli and Kíli. They're all up there!'

Várar nods, then turns to her brother, saying they need to send them reenforcement. She looks around, hoping to find her father. But all she sees are dead bodies. Suddenly she sees the long figure of her father making his way over to her, his facial expression stoic as he looks around at the fallen bodies. Many of them elves, Várar notices as she looks down in sadness.

Too many have died already.

'Ada!' Várar runs up to the king, wrapping her arms around his tall frame. 'Ada, there are more coming!'

At this news, Thanduil looks at her in shock. But they are on the winning hand. Their enemy is dropping in numbers. How can there be more coming?

'Are you sure?'

Várar nods.

'Yes. Legolas told me himself,' she tells him, releasing her father from her embrace.. 'They are marching to Ravenhill, where Thorin is. We must help them!'

Just when she is about to turn around, a hand reaches out for her, gripping her arm. With a look of surprise Várar stops to look at Thranduil again. Why is he stopping her? There is no time to waste! And why isn't he calling for his troops?

'There will be no more elvish blood spent in defence of the accursed land,' Thranduil answers her unspoken question. 'Nor will I let you or any of my men die because of some dwarf-king.'

'But father, he must be warned!'

But the elvish king just walks away from her, ignoring her pleas. He calls for his commanding officer to retreat. Furious, Várar hurries after her father, not hearing the hobbit volunteer to warn Thorin and his men.

'Father, you can't do this!' she calls after him. 'Father? Father!'

As Thranduil and the elves march through the city, killing orcs along the way, Várar desperately tries to stop him, but he just doesn't listen to her. Yet she keeps on pleading for him to sent out his men to Ravenhill.

'Fine, then I will go by myself,' Várar tells him, finally giving up the hope to have him listen to her.

The climb to Ravenhill too much longer than she had hoped and for a moment she wishes she had brought Tálagor along. But to bring along her fiery steed, would probably have ruined everything.

Still there are no sounds of fighting or loud orcs. Just silence. Utter silence. But she takes it as a good sign. If only to keep her hopes up.

She tries to catch her breath, when she hears noises coming from her right. Near the frozen lake. Without a second thought, she hurries over to it, only to gasp at the sight.

On the other side of the frozen lake, is the pale orc Thorin had called Azog. But it is not the sight of the pale orc that makes her gasp. It is what he is dragging with him, that is making her gasp. For behind him, he is dragging a bloodied Fíli.

'No,' she breathes as Azog says something to Thorin – whom is standing somewhere to her left.

'No! Run!'

Várar quickly reaches for her bow as the young prince desperately calls for his companions to run. But they don't. With little time, and little skill, Várar aims the arrow as she pulls back the string. A silent prayer leaves her lips as she tries to steady her breathing.

As Azog lifts Fíli up in the air, holding the dwarf by his neck, he raises his other arm to kill him. But just as his bladed arm is coming down, an arrow lands in his other arm. He releases a roar of pain, releasing Fíli from his grasp, causing the dwarf to fall down to the frozen lake.

But Várar doesn't look to see if he will land safely. Instead she has turned around in surprise as soon as the arrow had hit its mark. For it had not been her arrow – it would have been a miracle for her to have even come close to that orc.

Another gasp escapes from her lips, as she sees the shooter. The tall elf still has his bow in his hand, though it now hanging next to his body. His long light hair flowing in de freezing wind as he smiles lovingly at the young dwarrowdam.

'Father!'

'You are just too stubborn,' he tells her as he casually walks over to her. 'Leaving Tálagor behind on purpose.'

With a smile she looks over at her pony, thinking about what it must have looked like to see her father astride her pony. Though a tall pony, Tálagor is still a pony.

'Well, it did work, didn't it?' Várar asks as she notices about fifty elves marching up behind her father. 'You came.'

'In fear of losing you, I did indeed.' He doesn't look at her as he speaks to her. His eyes set firmly on the scene at the frozen lake. 'Now you better hurry up to your dwarf, or all of this has been for nothing.'

She looks at Thranduil in confusion, not understanding what he means by that. But she nods and spins around, drawing her sword while doing so. She whispers a soft 'thank you' to her father, before running to the battlefield at the lake. Her father and his warriors following close behind.

'Várar?' someone asks surprised. 'Uncle, look it's Várar.'

Kíli smiles as she runs over to them. His smile growing even wider as he notices the concerned look the young dwarrowdam is giving his brother. When he had seen that arrow piece inside the skin of that filth, he had instantly known it to be Várar to have shot it. No other dwarf would use an elvish arrow.

'Are you alright?' Várar asks as she approaches the four dwarves, her gaze on Fíli.

'Never better,' is his reply, as he smiles weakly.

After Kíli had helped his brother to the other side of the lake, to Thorin and Dwalin, his brother hasn't said much. Only winching in pain, and letting out a gasp every now and then as he had tried to find the least painful position to stand. And even now Fíli is grasping for air every now and then as he bends over slightly, his hand placed over his ribs, as he leans on his sword.

'You were thrown down from that cliff, landing on top of an ice-lake,' she states, quirking a brow. 'Let me have a look at your injuries.'

Fíli objects, telling her he's fine. But Várar ignores him, inspecting him for external injuries first, before checking for interval injuries. A few bruised ribs and a broken ankle. Nothing that can't be healed with time.

But for now, he is unable to fight. That much is clear. Even Thorin can see that.

'Erm, guys,' Bilbo suddenly chimes in, looking over the frozen lake. 'I fear we have company.'

Azog is making his way over to the edge of the frozen lake, his eyes looking at the small company on the other side of the lake. Then he barks out an order, pointing to them. Orcs suddenly cross the lake fast, their weapons raised, ready to kill them.

'Thanks, by the way,' Fíli says as the others draw their weapons, his eyes on his nearing enemy. 'For saving me I mean.'

Várar turns her gave to him, looking shocked for a moment. Then she smiles at him, facing the orcs again.

'Don't thank me,' she tells him, earning a surprised look from him. 'I didn't shoot that arrow.'

'Then who...'

Right then a long shadow falls over them and several orcs fall down. Their bodies pierced with arrows. Fíli doesn't even need to look around to know the dwarves have come to their aid. From what he has seen, the dwarrowdam is never seen without at least one elf around. And with that protective elvenking acting like her father, only a fool wouldn't figure it out.

'Can he fight?' Thranduil doesn't ask Fíli himself. Instead he turn the question to Várar, who answers with a 'no'. 'Then you will bring him somewhere safe. And you will stay with him, understood?'

'But father...'

'Understood?'

With a sigh Várar agrees, before placing her fingers to her lips to let out a shrill whistle. Fíli looks at her in curiosity, daring to let his guard down a little with so many elves around him. Just when he is about to ask her what she is doing, a bloodbay pony hurries over to her.

She whispers something in elvish to him, gently stroking his coat. Then he lowers to the ground next to Fíli.

'You won't get closer to an invitation than this,' Várar says as she turns to Fíli. 'Now hurry up, more orcs are coming.'

'But...'

He wants to fight! He needs to fight! It isn't in his blood to flee like some kind of coward!

'Fíli, listen to her,' Thorin says as he starts fighting the first orcs that have arrived. 'You are useless here right now and an easy target.'

Useless, that stings. But with that said, Fíli has no other choice than to accept this defeat. He too has to admit he is useless right now, but he had wanted to fight next to his uncle and brother. So he sheaths his sword, and climbs on top of Várar's horse. The dwarrowdam climbing on behind him.

How humiliating!

But still, somewhere deep inside, he actually enjoys having her sitting so close to him. With her arms around him to hold onto the reins. Her hot breath in his neck as she talks to the stallion, making the pony stand up and take off again.

But mostly being able to feel her breasts being pressed up against his back as both of them move along with the pony's movement. It makes him feel like nothing he has ever felt before. And even in this situation, he can not help but to silently enjoy this moment with Várar alone.

Bilbo watches the two dwarves ride off to safety. He understands why Thorin wants Fíli away from the battlefield. He is heir to the throne and a wanted target of their enemy. And with his current injuries an easy target as well.

As for Várar. Well even a blind man can see Thranduil loves her very much. And no father would want his daughter out on a battlefield. And even though he had used Fíli as an excuse, Thranduil had just wanted her away from the danger.

Something glows blue at his side and he looks at his hip to see his sword glowing. Suddenly Dwalin runs past him with a loud battle-cry, his axe swinging dangerously at something behind the surprised Bilbo. The hobbit hadn't noticed the orcs approaching as he had watched the two dwarves leave the battlefield begrudgingly. But now he has become painfully aware of the fact that he is being surrounded by orcs and he even wonders if the handful of elves will be of much use against their ferocious enemy.

Without hesitating, Bilbo throws rocks at the orcs, trusting his aim better than his sword-skills. But with throwing rocks he doesn't kill them. Only agitating them as they fight against the strong warrior blocking their paths to reach the hobbit.

Suddenly Bolg runs out and swings his mace at Bilbo. Luckily he only get smacked in the head with the handle, knocking the hobbit out cold. The world around him turning black, as the battle continues.

How long he has stayed in his world of darkness, Bilbo doesn't know. Only a few moments? Longer? Perhaps even a day? The noises of battle has died out to only a few bladed crashing every now and then. Though whether it is a good sign or not, the hobbit doesn't know yet, for he has not opened his eyes yet.

'No one is to interfere,' a smooth voice commands not too far away. 'This is his fight, and his alone.'

Finally finding the courage to open his eyes, Bilbo blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the bright light. Then he notices the figure standing next to him. Elves.

But they don't seem to notice Bilbo has woken up, having their eyes trained on something in the distance.

Not even when Bilbo begins to sit up straight, do their eyes travel down to the small hobbit. He stares at the elves in curiosity, wondering if they had been protecting him, or just stopped next to him a few moments before.

Then he sees some movement on the ice lake. He turns his attention to the lake just in time to see Azog falls into the freezing water.

'He-he did it!' Bilbo exclaims in joy as the pale orc disappears beneath the ice. 'He actually did it! He killed the pale orc!'

Bilbo smiles brightly, as Thorin bends down to pick up his sword – Bilbo recognises as Orcrist. Thorin seems to be looking at something in the ice, walking away from his cheering comrades. But the cheering suddenly stop as Thorin yells out in pain, a blade piercing through his foot.

Then Azog leaps through the ice and pins Thorin down. He swings his bladed arm at Thorin, who is barely able to block the blow from piercing his chest, by sliding Orcrist in one of the forks of the blade.

Bilbo finds himself watching the scene, frozen on the spot, as Azog uses gravity and his weight to push his blade further and further towards Thorin. Thorin himself struggles to keep the blade away.

It happens in just a blink of an eye. Bilbo needs a few seconds to register what has happened, before he yells out in sheer horror. He can't believe it, yet he can not deny it either, for the blade of Azog is piercing through Thorin's chest, as the dwarf has pierced the orc through the chest as well.

Thorin stumbles toward the edge of the frozen waterfall, before collapsing on his back. It is only then when everything seems to sink in. Even Thranduil seems to be too shocked to react. The only sound heard, the yell of agony.

'Thorin!'

A/N

That's right, this is where I'm leaving you. How awful of me, isn't it? To leave you with a dying Thorin, without knowing what has happened to Kíli. Your only hope for a living Durin, is Fíli. You must probably hate me now...

Anyway, this wasn't completely what I had in mind for this chapter, but I'm not really good at writing action scenes. The most important thing I wanted to have writen in this chapter, was to have Thranduil show up just in time to save Fíli from Azog.

I thought it to be too cliché to have the OC save the day just in time. Besides, if you had read a few chapters back, to Várar's childhood, I gave a small hint it wouldn't be Várar to save them. With her not being really good with a bow and arrow ;)

Anyway, when you're done mentally killing me, I hope you still enjoyed this chapter. If you do, please don't be shy to let me know by reviewing. And if you didn't like it, you're still free to review.

Anyway, I hope I will still see you next time!