Chapter 19

The drums echoed louder and louder, reverberating through every cell in their bodies. Breath came fast and shallow, leaving the whole army feeling light headed and slightly detached, as if time itself had stopped as they stood on the slopes of Erebor waiting for the enemy to arrive.

Bard had set up the archers of the Men of the Lake on the rocks high above them and Kili had just arrived back from helping ready them. He joined Fili and Tauriel beside Dain, Bard and Thorin and stood watching the orcs march closer and closer.

They were close enough to be able to distinguish them now. They were no longer a writhing black mass getting larger and larger in the distance. Now the soldiers could make out their twisted faces coated in war paint and blood, their misshapen heads and even their gnashing teeth that flashed bright red with the blood of their last meal with every snarl and growl.

Thorin squared his shoulders and watched as the line of orcs stopped and waited across the way from them, banging their spears down against the floor and roaring in unison.

"Shut them up." He ordered, his voice hard, no fear or bravery obvious in its deep tone.

Kili strung his bow and fired a single arrow into the face of one of the orcs in the front row of the army. The arrow went cleanly through its eye and into the face of the orc behind him. They both fell to the ground with a crash and 2 more orcs from behind them stepped forward, standing on the corpses of their fallen comrades without a flicker of any emotion, whether fear or anger.

Kili gulped and looked to his uncle, waiting for further orders.

The company of Thorin Oakenshield was stood at the front of Dains army, armed with weapons and armour from the halls of Erebor. The Men of the Lake stood among their dwarf companions silently, watching Bards every movement, waiting for the signal to charge.

Dain looked to Thorin, assessing his reaction. Since arriving at Erebor he was shocked at just how much his cousin had changed since they last met over a year ago. But the prospect of battle seemed to have given Thorin some of his old strength back and the dwarves were heartened to see the King Under the Mountain stand tall and strong before them, his majestic hair blowing in the wind as he surveyed the enemy with distaste.

"He's out there somewhere, I can feel it." Thorin said quietly, almost to himself.

Dain nodded to himself, unsure of whether he should feel comforted by Thorin's focus on Azog and the battle ahead.

"We're with you laddie, we have not come this far to lose hope now." Balin said, standing beside Dain and Thorin and staring at his King with pride mingled with concern.

Thorin knew the others were keen to charge, to begin now and to be done with the bloodshed all the sooner. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he must wait for something. There was something important pressing on his mind and he felt that they weren't quite ready yet, something important was missing.

Gandalf was stood next to Bilbo and Radagast, attempting to give Bilbo courage. Radagast had not wanted to stay as he wasn't a fighter but upon seeing how weak his friend still was he had decided his healing skills were of more use here and that this was far too important an event to miss. Tapping his foot anxiously, Radagast wriggled this way and that, the anticipation making him feel the need to rid himself of some of his energy with movement. Huffing and puffing, he wrung his hat in his hands and muttered to himself quietly, wondering everything from why Thorin wasn't doing anything to what ingredients Bombur could possibly have mixed together in his gut to create the curiously toxic stench that he was releasing in his anxiety.

A small moth landed lightly on Radagast's nose and he squealed in delight, offering the small creature his finger to perch on instead. Grinning at it, Radagast almost missed the other moth land on his shoulder in his pleasure. Looking round wildly, Radagast watched as the moths flew off him and on to a staff that was leant against a nearby tree.

Smiling in relief, Radagast poked Gandalf and, ignoring the rude comments that followed, pointed his friend in the direction of the gift.

"Lady Galadriel…" Gandalf murmured, picking up his old staff that he had felt sure Sauron had destroyed for good in his show of power back at Dol Guldur.

Striding towards Thorin, Gandalf claimed the Kings attention with his happy exclamation.

"Thorin, I am whole once more, well not quite what I was but you know it's a great improvement."

Thorin's eyes widened as he saw Gandalf, who looked considerably brighter and stronger than he had done a short time ago, and took in the sight of the wizard once more complete with his long staff in his hands.

A sense of calm flooded through the Kings veins and he realised this is what they'd been missing. He felt that Gandalf had caused all this trouble for Thorin by insisting he had to take back Erebor and, although he was grateful for the oh so need push from the wizard, he still had feelings of resentment to the interfering 'Guardian of Middle Earth' and felt much better that he would now be able to pull his weight in the fight once more.

Kili turned to Tauriel, adrenalin flooding his veins as he realised this was it, they were ready. Pressing his rune stone into her hand, he winked at her and tried to smile reassuringly. Clutching it, Tauriel smiled back before storing it in her tunic.

Shouting words of encouragement in his mother tongue, Thorin urged his kin onwards as he began to run down the slopes. At his movement the orcs themselves stopped their displays of bravery and dominance and began to speed their advance in response.

"Onwards brothers, today is the last day orc scum will ever spill a drop of dwarfish blood. Today the slopes of Erebor will forever be stained red with their lifeblood and all evil will know they died at our hands."

Words seemed to flow from Thorin's mouth as he encouraged his brethren onwards, hearing their enthusiastic roars of defiance and hatred.

A shrill shout sounded from beside him and Thorin glanced down to see little Bilbo attempting to keep pace with him, fear clear in his features. But there was something more than that. Thorin could also see courage and honour and, perhaps, hatred.

In that moment Thorin was struck by just how much the hobbit had changed since walking out of his door that fateful morning in the Shire. A powerful feeling overcame him and Thorin used the hilt of his sword to hit Bilbo on the back of the head as hard as he could.

Shouting to some dwarves behind him to get Bilbo to safety, Thorin turned and carried on running towards the orcs across the ever shrinking gap.

"Why did you do that?" Thorin heard Gandalf yell from behind him.

"To protect him. He'll only get himself killed."

Thorin said no more but instead focused on the enemy ahead of him, shouting with everything he had, for all those he had lost; his father, his grandfather, his brother, Vili, all of those he had watched die at the hands of orc scum. He raised his sword and arm shield and jumped headlong into the first line of the orc advance.

The armies came together with a huge clash of metal on metal and the screams of thousands upon thousands.

As the armies joined together men, dwarves and orcs alike began falling to deaths embrace.

Countless orcs fell to Tauriel's quick reactions and sharp daggers. In one place Dwalin drove his axe into the head of a giant brute, wiping the resulting brains on the dead orcs face as he readied himself to turn and face another foe. Across the way Balin and Dain danced around each other, felling countless orcs with expertly aimed jabs and thrusts. Further down the slopes Nori buried an axe into the snout of a warg who had pinned Ori down whilst Dori split its stomach open and ripped its guts out from the side.

Death, blood and horror were everywhere and for hours there seemed to be no clear sign of either side gaining any advantage.

Thorin killed mercilessly, working his way through the orc ranks searching obsessively for the pale orc whose death had been the only thing occupying Thorin's mind since he had begun to hear the drums sound.

But he was not the only one with murder on his mind as Azog too searched the battlefield for his nemesis, his mace glinting in the weak light as he tore through his enemies three at a time searching tirelessly for Thorin.

Further down, where the masses of orcs were packed tightly together fought one lone dwarf with a fury that caused the orcs to run round him, fancying their chances better higher up on the slopes in the heat of the battle than down there with the crazed dwarf. Bifur fought furiously, his eyes wild with vengeance as he hacked and swung his axe at the large orc in front of him. Upon seeing this orc Bifur had been driven mad with fury. He had recognised him immediately, as of course he would have known this particular orc anywhere, for this was the orc that had occupied his thoughts and dreams for many years. The orc that had lodged his axe head into Bifur's skull, leaving him incapable of communicating with his kin in the common tongue. But Bifur had also left his mark on the orc, and he grinned manically as he noted that he still had the blade buried in his shoulder, sticking out at a gruesome angle and forever marking him as Bifur's worst enemy.

Half screaming, half laughing, Bifur tore through orc after orc, ripping their bodies to shreds and spewing blood and organs everywhere in his haste to reach his foe. Bofur and Bombur followed closely after their cousin, yelling in unison as they protected his back from the orcs running round them in their bloodlust and desire to reach the thick of the battle and spill dwarf blood.

Back up where the fighting was thickest Thorin and Fili fought side by side, sweeping aside lines of orcs as their instincts took over and they lost themselves to the murder. They fought together, protecting each other and moving as one, bringing down orc after orc and countless wargs as they sought the creature that had killed Thror and had attempted to kill them numerous times.

As Thorin stabbed an enemy through the stomach Fili swung his sword and took off his head, grimacing as his face was splattered with blood.

"Nasty way to go." He commented dryly, wiping the blood off his face and ducking as an orc swung a club at his head; he split the orc in half and laughed, jumping back and grinning at Thorin.

Thorin shook his head at his nephew's energy and tried to focus, ignoring the pride that was blossoming inside him and attempting to keep his mind and instincts sharp as he hacked the legs off a particularly hideous orc before stabbing him through the face.

Fili covered the King as Thorin wiped the muck off his blade and looked around him for any sign of a pale orc or a white warg.

"Where's Kili gone?" Fili asked, trying to recover his breath as he side stepped an orc who was trying to rush him. Pushing the orc onto a spear stuck out of the ground Fili calmly turned round and raised his eyebrow as if they were once again in the Blue Mountains and Kili had gone wandering off when Thorin was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.

"No idea, with Tauriel?" Thorin said absentmindedly, promising himself he'd locate his missing nephew later when he'd dealt with Azog.

"He was with you." Came the calm reply from behind them as Tauriel strode through three orcs, calmly dealing each of them fatal blows, as she walked towards Fili and Thorin.

Tauriel would not have addressed Thorin in such a manner after what had happened but his casual use of her name had struck a chord. She was no longer just 'the elf'; she had a name and an identity. She was a person with feelings and not just a faceless part of an enemy race.

Thorin looked around him and sighed, driving his sword through the throat of a charging orc whilst silently cursing his wayward nephew. Watching the blood spurt from the neck of the orc with a bored expression Thorin narrowed his eyes as he saw a flash of white in a nearby scrum of bodies.

"Find him." He commanded Tauriel, before striding off to investigate, slashing at orcs as he went. Fili didn't hesitate to follow Thorin, leaving Tauriel behind to fight off four orcs who were hoping to rush Thorin from behind.

Running back up the slope, slashing at orcs as she went, Tauriel reached a rock that jutted out near the top and afforded her a clear view of the battle. Taking out her bow, Tauriel thinned some clusters of orcs and tried to spot her lover, hoping that he would be taking his promise seriously and was being careful.

Tauriel did not spot Kili, and it wasn't surprising as whilst she was taking aim from her rock back up near the entrance to the mountain Kili was underneath a crush of about 60 orcs, jabbing and cursing in equal measure. His bright eyes flashing in the gloom as he slashed wildly about him, Kili couldn't help but laugh. He was in his element, at one with his surroundings, guided by his battle instincts. He didn't even have a scratch on him and he must have estimated he'd killed more orcs than almost any of his kin.

Earlier in the heat of battle he'd passed Legolas and heard him muttering a count to himself as he took out orc after orc. Orcrist had gleamed bright in his hands, flashing in the sun with every twist and parry. Kili had felt a small stab of anger at the elf who had revealed his relationship, got him banished from his own home and all whilst carrying his uncle's sword which Legolas had stolen from the King. He felt a surge of childishness and allowed himself to revel in it, knowing it could be his last chance to get one over on the stuck up elf. Running past the elf and stabbing two orcs with one thrust, Kili had yelled out his own number of felled enemies.

"82!" He'd called gleefully, watching the look of disgust and fury flash on Legolas' face as he realised the dwarf prince had already killed 23 more enemies than himself.

"That's pathetic lad, 91!" Gloin had shouted, laughing at their efforts as he'd skewered a warg on the end of a spear.

"Make that 92."

Kili had laughed as Legolas angrily set to work killing everything in his path, his hair glowing in the light like a halo as he swept through the ranks of orcs causing mayhem and destruction.

But now Kili was in a spot of bother as orcs seemed to be pressing in on all sides. He frowned and told himself that they weren't being very sporting, attacking him all at once. But a great shape threw itself into a group of them and, not recognising the mysterious ally but being grateful all the same, Kili set to work protecting his back and taking out as many orcs as he could.

When the orcs around them lay scattered over the ground Kili allowed himself a breath. Unfortunately, his ally seemed to notice him for the first time and swung his sword at him with great strength.

Kili defended and stared into the great face of a large, wild dwarf, confusion filling him.

"What are you doing you oaf we're on the same side!" Kili yelled, pushing the dwarfs sword away with all his might and jumping back, hoping there weren't any orcs behind him about to strike.

"Dis?" The dwarf said, his eyes widening and his mouth hanging open.

"What? I'M MALE. I AM A MALE DWARF." Kili was so filled with outrage at being mistaken for his mother it took him a few seconds to realise this stranger knew his mother.

"Dis is my mother, who are you?"

"You're Dis' son?"

"Yes, SON." Kili emphasised, stabbing an orc lying on the floor who had been reaching for a blade.

"My grandson…" The dwarf whispered, staring at Kili with awe.

Kili's eyes widened and he looked at the dwarf properly for the first time. Recognition seemed to hit him like a blow to the gut as he saw the resemblance to both Thorin and his mother.

"Thrain… Grandfather?"

There was a tender moment of silence before a group of three orcs on wargs leapt over a pile of rotting carcasses and went for Kili, the wargs dribbling at the anticipation of the kill to come.

"Not my grandson you fuckers!" Thrain screeched, running wildly and taking on all three wargs and their riders at once, and succeeding.

Quietly impressed, Kili turned and began to look for Thorin, eager to tell him the good news.

It was then that he saw it. Down, on the far side of the orc army was the glint of metal in the weak sunlight. His mouth gaped open as he saw a large elf army march on the orcs and attack them from the rear. It had never occurred to him that King Thranduil would come, although Kili supposed he should have known the King of the Woodland Realm would not leave his son to the mercy of dwarfish filth.

Hoping that they would not have to fight two separate armies, Kili turned and ran through the battle, searching for Thorin and his brother.

Thorin had already seen Thranduil and felt a rush of pleasure. He relished the slaughter of the orcs and was sure that he would be able to reach a peace with the Elven King, ensuring the lives of his kin.

For the first time since losing Kili Thorin felt as though his dream of reuniting his family could actually come true. His nephews need only survive for a few more hours and then he could return them home, safe, to Dis with a smile on his face, King of Erebor and saviour of his people.