I was yet again pacing the ramparts, my thoughts as heavy as the clouded sky as I tried to face the many problems ahead of us. The enemy would be here in mere days, the elves and men within hours. I could see them now on the horizon, pushing themselves to a frantic pace in their haste to keep families from perishing. I was relieved to note that the elven guard following after was a much larger force than those they were protecting. It meant that many were sharing horses, allowing them to quicken their flight.
After another glance around them to assure myself I still could not see their pursuers, I turned away, contemplating the one other thing that had a growing hold upon my mind. Thorin. He had locked himself away in some small chamber, refusing to acknowledge my presence in his stubborn attempt at conserving pride. I felt a mix of sadness, regret, and growing annoyance at his antics. Never had I met someone seemingly so keen on self destruction, but the road he was on would only lead to ruin. I hoped he would come to his senses before he lost his head for good. To make matters worse, Dwalin was angry with me as well. My old friend blamed me for the whole thing, reasoning that giving the stone to Thorin had only exacerbated his descent to madness. A part of me couldn't help feeling that he might just be right. If I had unwittingly handed the object of Thorin's demise to him I would never forgive myself.
I was not the only one filled with doubt. Fili and Kili looked lost, their faces overcome by an empty sadness. They thankfully did not blame me for what happened, but struggled to come to terms with the stranger in their uncle's body. The only words he had spoken to them since our disastrous altercation on the ramparts were orders to arm up and be ready to fight. That he hadn't specified who exactly we would be fighting left me uneasy. I was half expecting him to charge out the gates and attack the approaching elves and men, in his current state it would not surprise me in the least. Sighing in dismay, I allowed myself to slump against the wall, closing my eyes and shutting out the world for a moment. I was having no luck untangling my thoughts, love and fear for my dwarf warring in my head. I recalled his hand in mine, and the way he whispered lovingly at times when no one else could hear, wondering if I would ever hear him speak thus again.
I had spent the morning brooding from my position at the wall when Seraph interrupted my internal struggles. Her presence brought me to my feet abruptly, turning to watch the final approach of the men and their elven guard. They came to a halt several yards before the great gates, and all present allowed a moment of uncertain silence to pass before I managed to offer them a welcoming smile. Nodding a greeting, I indicated that I would come down to meet them at the gates where we could converse freely. It took but a short run to get down the stairs, and a moment more to shove the gates open enough to allow my passage. They were heavy and strong, a fact that I was thankful for, though we had needed to do some repair after the dragon smashed his way to freedom. It was luck that the gates had merely swung open faster than they ever had before, losing chunks from the top edges rather than disintegrating entirely. I approached Bard with a smile, happy to see that he led the group of returning villagers.
"It is good to see you back in one piece," I offered, gamely hiding the strain I was under behind a mask of relief. "I would like to personally welcome the women and children into the mountain where they may find refuge. The rest of us have much to discuss I think. Have you been brought up to speed yet?" I inquired of the bowman.
Bard nodded. "Legolas informed me of the situation. I had worried for my people until he informed me of your most generous offer of shelter. I can assure you that my men are pledged to defend the mountain and the innocent."
Smiling again in appreciation, I turned to acknowledge the dwarves that were now gathered around the open gates. "Balin! I am glad you all came out here, I think it is time we took council together to better prepare for what is coming. First however, let us get the non-combatants to safety."
"Of course. Come in, come in," he said invitingly to the women and children that were gaping in open wonder at the mighty kingdom before them. None had been so close to the fabled city in all their years, and their awe was heartwarming. They began to file through the gates, encouraged by the dwarves ushering them kindly inside. "Welcome to Erebor!" Balin proclaimed grandly, not at all discouraged by the fact that a large part of the sight before them was in ruin. "Though we cannot offer the hospitality of old, it is warm and dry in here," he assured them. They looked simply relieved to finally have the opportunity to rest their feet. Pulling Bilbo and some of the younger company members aside, he gave hushed orders for them to take charge of the gathering, and most importantly to inform him right away if Thorin made an appearance. That dealt with, we were left with the senior members of the group, the men, and the as yet silent elves.
I turned to address the elves at once, praying that they would keep any harsh feelings in check. "Thranduil," I bowed slightly, my voice politely indifferent. He did not immediately answer, his eyes roving over the group in a calculating fashion.
"Where is your king?" he asked at last, causing me to suppress a flinch at the though of Thorin still locked away in a maddened temper.
I exchanged a glance with Balin, his gaze offering silent support coupled with caution. I did not need the warning to be discreet, though likely it would all blow up in our faces when at last Thorin chose to make his appearance anyway. "He is indisposed currently," I replied smoothly, scowling slightly at the barely concealed look of smug satisfaction now plastered on his smooth visage. "He has asked me to speak for him, and so on his behalf I ask, no I beg you to aid us in this hour of need. I pray that you will cast aside our disputes and join us on the field of battle, for I fear we will be lost without you." I took a large breath at the end of my speech, a knot in my stomach at the need to nearly grovel before him.
He opened his mouth to give an answer when Legolas suddenly cut off his scathing reply, a look of pleading in his eyes. "Ada," he said so softly that I wondered if anyone other than myself heard him. His face spoke volumes, and I felt my trust in the young prince renewed. He had not suffered fully from the corruption that darkened his fathers thoughts, still willing to fight for what is good, no matter what past differences were in the way.
The elven king frowned with reluctant displeasure, though his eyes softened ever so slightly for his only child. He still had to practically force the words out of his mouth, swallowing in distaste. "We will join you," he agreed. I felt the tension leave my shoulders with his promise of allegiance, no matter how grudgingly it had been given.
We were about to move on to actual strategy and planning when several things happened to nearly turn the situation on its end. Dwarven horns were heard in the near distance, coming from the east of all places, and Thorin appeared at the gates. His characteristic scowl deepened farther at the sight of the elves, though he thankfully held his silence for the present time, instead turning towards the tramp of many approaching feet. Gandalf appeared behind him, looking remarkably unperturbed despite the risk of a blow up from the many tense forces around him.
Everyone grew hushed in anticipation as a veritable army of dwarven warriors clad in heavy armor rounded the slope of the mountain. They did not stop at the sight of elves and men on the doorstep, though many visibly bristled in disgust, and I felt a sudden worry for my own reception among the rest of what were undoubtedly Thorin's people. I fleetingly wondered if perhaps the love I felt for him would not be enough after all, both to bridge the distance between us and win the hearts of his people. Pushing aside these thoughts for a time, I waited to see how this would play out. The leader of the group detached himself from the others, coming forward to clasp the arms of the king in a friendly embrace. "Thorin!" he cried jovially, his good nature helping to put the troubled dwarf at ease. "It seems I came at the nick of time," he jested, eying the elves with a mixture of uncertainty and disapproval.
"Dain," Thorin breathed in relief. "It is good to see you again cousin. The situation is far graver than we thought." Both their gazes flicked over the gathering, expressions now mirrored with the solemn tone of Thorin's words.
Sensing that this might be my best chance to get everyone working together, I beckoned to Thranduil and Bard, indicating that we should now approach and get things rolling. "My lord," I bowed formally in traditional dwarven fashion to Thorin's companion. "I do not wish to interrupt but we have little time to prepare for the coming battle."
"Eh? Who's this then?" he demanded of Thorin imperiously, pointedly ignoring me. "And why has she brought elves and men along? I thought they were the ones causing the problem, the dwarves certainly don't need their help."
I looked to Thorin, searching his eyes plaintively as I ignored the muted protest emanating from Thranduil at my back. The elf would have to grow a thicker skin and soon, for I had no time to placate his delicate nerves. Thorin stared back, his eyes clouded as the gleam flickered in and out. I allowed my deep trust of him to show through, hoping he would not reject me now. "Dain, this is Alanta." He paused, the gleam sinking farther away for a moment. "My intended."
The dwarf gaped for a moment, glancing between us in a way that was almost comical but for the circumstances surrounding our meeting. At last he shook his head resignedly. "You sure know how to pick them," he replied doubtfully, though I had not failed to notice his sliver of approval for my proper greeting to one of his status. "If they are not the problem, what is cousin?" he questioned, moving on now that introductions were apparently completed to his satisfaction.
"An army of orcs approaches from the west, perhaps only a days march out now," Thorin replied, his admission causing all within earshot to grip weapons tighter, fierce scowls crossing their battle hardened faces. "For now we must put aside our differences and fight together," he added, gritting his teeth against the unwelcome thought. I nodded in approval, allowing him to take charge now that he appeared to be in a more stable frame of mind.
I stood tense on the battlefield, going over and over our plans in my head to look for weakness. Looking out across the sea of allies and praying against all hope that we would survive the day. Night had come and gone while we held council before succumbing to a brief rest full of the unease the precedes battle. I thought back sadly to the conversation between Bilbo and Thorin that I had overheard.
The king had approached our dear hobbit friend uncertainly, placing a hand on his arm as he struggled to drag out the right words. "I wish you would stay here in the mountain, not fight in this battle," he had admitted at last, his concern obvious. Bilbo had held back a snort of irritation at the over-protectiveness of the dwarves before shrugging and offering a helpless smile. "I can do this," he reassured the dwarf softly as he poured the mithril coat over his slim shoulders. Giving Thorin a pat on the arm, he strode over to some of the others, his confident steps a far cry from the nervous creature we had encountered all those months ago. 'That's what Frerin said', Thorin whispered, his pain-laden voice reaching only my ears and leaving my heart aching for him. He never mentioned the brother he lost, and it spoke volumes about the way he saw Bilbo that he would do so now, even to himself.
We stood together now, Thorin to my left and Bilbo to my right. I had sworn that I would help to protect him, and I intended to do so for as long as I was able. Fili and Kili flanked their uncle, the rest of the company ranged at our backs, all of us at the head of the dwarven army. The men and elves were at our sides, elven archers higher up on the slopes while their kin ranged freely among our ranks. The men had been outfitted from Erebor's own armory, the mountain thankfully containing storerooms full of armor for different races. Anticipation grew as the orcs came into sight. They were only a few leagues away, and I willed my trembling limbs to steady, wishing not for the first time that I had a complement of guardians at my sides to protect my arguably frailer companions. I thought of Beorn, wondering if my message to him would reach him in time to make a difference. I had sent Seraph to him for help, knowing no one farther out would be able to answer the summons in time. I knew without a doubt that he would not want to miss a fight like this.
When the enemy was only a league away they began to charge, their bloodthirsty shrieks matched by the challenging roar that issued from our ranks. We held our ground as they swept in a heaving mass towards us, casting aside all doubt and fear in one bold move of defiance. Weapons were raised and we clashed with an unearthly din of ringing metal, pained screams and rent armor. I shut out the sounds, knowing well how much of a distraction they could be, instead focusing with deadly determination on cutting down everything within reach. I swept my newly crafted spear in a wide arc, holding my breath slightly as it entered its maiden battle. The wood held, solid and reassuring in my palms, and I began to attack in earnest. I sliced my way through all that approached, keeping half an eye on Bilbo as I had promised, while somehow finding opportunities to glance at the others nearby.
The fight raged on, both sides struggling for dominance. Equal measures of friend and foe littered the ground, their life's blood staining the barren land crimson and black. The muted roar of noise continued to filter throughout my brain even as I kept myself from being overwhelmed by it. A growl from behind had me turning in a neat spin to intercept the warg headed for Bilbo, and I grinned outright when a vicious snarl answered it from a much larger animal that was barreling towards us. The massive bear plowed through the enemies separating us like a knife through butter, stomping the warg into oblivion. I spared a moment to roll my eyes at the blissful satisfaction on the creatures face as he continued to be in his element. He lowed a greeting before swinging around to charge off back into the thick of things, quickly disappearing from my sight.
I caught snatches of conversation as friends and family alike defended each other, working in harmony to protect their loved ones. Fili was back to back with Thorin, his twin blades a whirlwind of destruction alongside Thorin's heavy blows. They would utter snippets of breathless talk as they traded warnings. Kili had been nearby but slightly off to the side when he was joined by another familiar face. Tauriel appeared out of the crowd, her bow slung on her back now that she had run out of arrows. Knives singing, she joined the young dwarf prince, offering him a smiling glance.
"Fancy seeing you here," she joked, her wry humor eliciting a bark of laughter from the mischievous dwarf.
"I wouldn't have thought to see you without your bow," he replied with a grin. "Are you sure you know how to use another weapon?"
"Are you sure you do?" she laughed back.
"Tell you what, we'll see who kills the most and that should settle any doubt," he winked cheekily.
"Done," she cried, as she slashed her weapons across the throat of yet another attacker. I shook my head at the unexpected camaraderie, knowing if it were to bloom into something more we would have an interesting situation on our hands. Shaking myself from my distraction, I turned in time to take two more orcs out of existence, the overly confident creatures falling quickly beneath my blade.
I turned to check on Bilbo some time later only to find that I could not locate my friend. A surge of panic filled my head, and I spun desperately, searching the burgeoning mass of bodies for the little hobbit. I had drifted from my earlier position beside my family, and I could see them several yards away. Slowly I made my way over, thinking perhaps they had seen Bilbo. As I got closer I was finally offered relief in the form of a head covered in golden curls, barely visible amongst the other taller folk. The group was beset on all sides by a pressing rush of enemies, and I struggled to get closer, dismayed when I found my progress hindered several times.
My relief at finding the others turned to horror when I saw three hulking orcs descend upon Bilbo all at once. The hobbit was fighting with tired desperation now, the fear visible in his eyes when he turned towards me. He managed to knock aside two of their blows when a mace collided solidly with the side of his head. I felt the silent scream within me as I could almost hear the sickening crunch of bone. Our eyes met for a moment, mine anguished, his confused and already clouding over as he fell to the ground out of my sight. I heard Thorin cry out in pain when he turned to see his fallen friend, his nephews rushing to stand over him as he knelt at Bilbo's side. Rage filled my vision and I bulled forward, forcing my way over to them, ignorant of the cuts and bruises I sustained in my haste.
I got to their side, nearly crying when I found Thorin clutching the almost dead hobbit to him, broken apologies stuttering from his lips. I pulled Bilbo to me gently, Thorin offering little resistance once he saw who it was. My fingers went to his neck, feeling the tiny fluttering pulse slow and nearly stop. It thumped erratically, in pointless stubborn defiance of the mortal wound. My hand quickly became covered in his blood, shaking as I contemplated what I knew I was about to attempt. I could not bring him back from death, but he was still alive, there was still time...
"Thorin, you have to protect me, I have to focus. I am going to try and heal him, there is no time to get him out." He nodded mutely, hand roughly swiping away the threatening tears. I grabbed at his arm for a moment. "I cannot be distracted at all, this will take all my magic," I warned him. "I will likely be drained for weeks." He nodded again, understanding my hidden request. 'Keep safe and do not die, because there will be nothing else I can do after this'. I turned away, ignoring the battle as I focused all my considerable abilities on the tiny failing creature before me. Grabbing all my power, I shoved it into him, my gift burning like fire as I let it out too fast. The sounds of the world died away, Bilbo's heartbeat the only thing I could hear. His flowing blood the only thing I could see as it lessened to a trickle. His faltering eyes fluttered open from where they had shut against their master's will, and he stared at me in pained surprise. Grabbing him up in my arms, I straightened, rejoicing when I caught sight of Beorn making his way over to us again. I got the hobbit onto his broad back, beseeching the man to get him out of here so that he might have a chance. He loped off with considerable speed as I turned back to the fight.
My attacks were less coordinated now, the draining of my power leaving me tired and weak. I somehow continued to hold my own, surprised when I found myself back to back with Legolas and Thranduil. The two were staying close together, and I joined them to strengthen their defenses. I was falling back on instinct, joining with whoever happened to be close by as I relied on my skills to get me through this. We took it in turns to take down the enemies that approached, saving each others lives many times in the process.
I was torn from my near stupor by a familiar scream. Fili was calling out desperately for Thorin, and I looked for them, heart dropping when I couldn't find the one I sought. Fili was striking with all his might against an orc that would have matched Azog in size and ferocity, Kili joining him in their defense of their uncle. Once more I ran to the side of the fallen, strangled sobs working their way up as I caught sight of the spear protruding from his chest, and the arrows in his leg. Keening softly I gathered his head into my lap, reaching for my magic only to find a hollow emptiness. His pained eyes were full of regret, though he fought to keep his focus on me, rattling breaths working their way out of his tormented lungs.
I did not see Fili and Kili take down the large orc, didn't notice the screeching calls of the great eagles as their arrival shifted the tide of battle in our favor. The first thing I noticed was a wet nose nudging my arm insistently, the sorrowed face of Beorn intruding on my blurred vision. I struggled to lift Thorin, crying when my pitiful attempts caused him to grimace in renewed pain. The large shifter dropped his bear form, scooping the dwarf up in strong arms and heading swiftly for the mountain. I followed after, the company covering our retreat.
I could dimly hear the muted cries and groans of the wounded from outside the private room that Thorin had been afforded. Oin offered no words of comfort as I sat slumped at his side, my world falling to pieces. His skin had taken on a dull pallor, the sheen of sweat mixing with blood that looked garish against his now pale face. He lay quietly, rendered unconscious by the merciful potion Oin had administered upon his arrival. I looked to the dwarf pleadingly, silently begging him to fix this. He gave me the saddest look I have ever seen, placing a hand intended to be comforting on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry lass," he murmured gently. "He will not make it to the morning, there is nothing more I can do."
My grief-reddened eyes filled again with tears, and I bent forward to place a kiss on his forehead, my fallen tears tracing a path down his face. I whispered my last words to him, in case some part of him could still hear. "I love you, Thorin. I'm so very sorry." Rising, I headed for the door, head bowed in sorrow.
"Where are you going?" Oin asked softly.
I spared him only a single glance filled with pain and shame. "I'm sorry, I cannot..." I trailed off, nearly running out the door in my need to escape the stifling room. The unspoken words filled the silence behind me. 'I cannot watch him die.' I made it to the gates before the yawning hole in my chest took over, sending me to my knees. Thranduil was outside, watching over the healers among his own people as they worked on the injured. He turned at the sound of my anguish, asking the question that I never wanted to answer.
"Does Thorin live?" I missed the genuine note of concern in his voice, blinded in my pain as I responded in a lifeless tone.
"He will not make it until morning. I can do nothing..." I broke off, choking on the words. I missed the look he exchanged with his chief healer, the nod of unspoken agreement between the two as they finally let go of past hate in their wish to help the fallen king.
I did not know if I had sat there for hours, or days, or even weeks before I was approached by a small figure on slightly wobbly legs. Bilbo looked crushed and defeated. "You should have saved him, not me," he whispered brokenly, causing me to break out of my despair for the first time in hours.
"Never say that," I cried fiercely, giving him a gentle shake. "I do not regret saving you, and I could never have chosen between the two of you. You are like family to me Bilbo."
He burst into tears at my words, uttering a single heartbroken plea. "I want to go home."
I rose to my feet, a task giving me strength to go on for now. "I will take you," I assured him. We quietly packed some things for the journey, not seeing a need to delay with the pain so great. We were nearly away when we heard the company calling us back. I almost didn't pause, but at Bilbo's hesitation we turned to wait for them.
"You're leaving?" Fili and Kili cried, devastation writ on their faces.
"I'm taking Bilbo home," I replied softly. "I will come back," I promised them, wishing I would never have to face this pain again while knowing I could not abandon my family. "When I do I will bring the dwarves of Ered Luin with me."
They all nodded, knowing why I was so eager to get away, and thankfully not judging me for this cowardly act. "Farewell for now then," Balin uttered, leading the company in embracing the both of us. "You will always be welcome in Erebor brother," he told a tearful Bilbo, drawing a tiny smile from the hobbit before he became overcome with emotion and had to hide his face.
Together, we headed into the west, giving the mountain that held all our hopes and despair one last glance before looking to the sunset.
Author's note: I am so sorry for taking so long to update. I have a lot going on IRL right now, and it has me stressed out to the max. Luckily I somehow managed to find a flash of inspiration that turned into three whole chapters and changed the direction of the story from where I had originally intended. So the other two will be posted as soon as I get them properly edited (a few minutes with any luck). As for this chapter I hope you won't be too upset with me, it's quite depressing and I cried writing it, not to mention the next chapter which I was nearly too depressed to write at all. However you won't have to wait for a resolution to the cliffhanger as I am posting it now. Things will come to a head (mostly) within the next couple chapters and then we get to another arc in which I have no ideas yet. It has taken on a life of it's own, and I am letting it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and as always many thanks for reading/reviewing. Next chapter coming before you can say Erebor.