Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not my own, yadda yadda yadda. I'm not making any money off of this. (Though I wish I could.)
A/N: In war, there is no victory without sacrifice.
Andrews looked at me and shook her head.
"Tal! You have a crush on him!" She teased. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and I glared.
"Hes a fictional character, Alicia." I ground out.
The darkness of the movie theater. The hush of the crowd as first Fili, then Kili fell. The pain in my chest as I watched the light fade from the eyes of the two young warriors. Tears as Thorin took the blade of Azog to his chest. Soft sobs escaping my lips as he died.
Lightning overhead. Water in my mouth. Mud thick on my tongue.
Rifle in the ground. Boots to each side. A helmet laid low. Dog tags glimmering in light.
Lightning overhead. Metallic taste of blood.
"Roads go ever on and on…" My grandfather sang out, his aged irish lilt crooning the words of Tolkien as he moved about the barn.
"Sacrifices will be made before the end…" The voice of Galadriel echoed in my head.
"So you think his defiling days are over do?" The goblin king laughed then, blood dripping from the great gash in his neck.
"…Never been so wrong in all my life…"
"So, Talya. Why did you give our Uncle your necklace?"
"…First one I thought of."
"..Wish for you to be at my side…"
"Now far ahead the Road has gone/ And I must follow, if I can." My grandmother, short but fierce, smiled at him.
"And so you see… She already comes between you and kin." Dwalins voice echoed in my head.
"So, if you polish his sword, can I watch?" I asked brightly. The look of shock on Bard and Fili's face mirrored perfectly and I laughed until I cried and the tears were crimson on my cheeks.
"No matter what happens… Keep rowing!"
The eye watched me, pupils slitted.
"Nothing left… but your death!" The fire was around me and I burned.
"…skin should crack and peel…"
"Erebor." Fili said wonderingly. He was walking in front of me, blood dripping thickly down his back. I frowned. "The halls of our fathers."
"Home," Kili whispered, a great hole where his heart should have been.
"I would have you as my wife, Talya. As my queen…" Thorin's bloody lips coughed out. His chest was soaked through, blue eyes fading.
"..You have not gone down there with him. You have not seen the madness in his eyes!" Bilbo accused, only it was Gollum who stared out at me
"Ghivashel…" Thorins voice was rough, his face cruel. His tone was taunting and it tore at my very soul.
"…And if I ever see your face again, Talya Conner… I will kill you myself."
"Where many paths and errands meet/ And wither then? I cannot say." My grandfather was a corpse now, dancing with the bones of my grandmother. Her skeletal jaw clacked together in a mockery of a grin.
"To fight, Bilbo."
"You can't!"
"I have to. I have to find a way to save them, Bilbo."
"Even if it means death?" He bit out, his voice full of emotion. I nodded, a lump in my throat.
"Even if,"
"DU BEKAR!" The call came roaring around me and I found myself screaming along with the rest.
"Go on ahead. Find Kili and," I swallowed hard around the sudden lump in my throat. "Fili. Make sure they are safe!"
Bolg stomped towards Legolas who was fighting to regain his grip. I was plunging my blade into his side. He faltered. Slow motion, he swung and his fist crashed into me.
Lightning flash.
"Stay with me Conner. The medic is on his way." Alicia said softly. She was pressing her hand into my wounded shoulder, stifling the bleeding there. "Hell of a shot, by the way."
"Bad time to tell you I was aiming for the orc, then…" Kili frowned and fell away, his eyes closing.
"As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers/ I will say this last goodbye." The music played out over the theater and I stayed in my seat, heart aching. Alicia shook her head and tugged me to my feet.
"I'll never understand you, Tal," She said with a slight laugh. I didn't answer, just followed after, my heart shattered in my chest. I passed the movie poster and the aching blue eyes of Thorin met mine.
Oaken branch.
Oaken shield.
I gasped as my eyes snapped open, my chest heaving. I coughed wretchedly, my lungs burning and my ribs aching. I was stiff, so stiff, and every muscle screamed at me in protest. My mind was racing as the last of my nightmare drifted from me and I finally looked around.
I was lying in a soft bed, heavy and fine blankets tucked around me, my head cradled softly on a pillow. Moon light poured through a nearby window and illuminated the dimly lit room. I lifted my head slowly, wincing as my muscles rebelled. The bed was centered in the room, its great carved frame doing little to fill up the grand space. Tables littered with rags and bowls and herbs nestled next to the bed and I licked my dry lips when my eyes caught the sight of a pitcher of water. I thirsted so terribly.
The door creaked open and I jumped. I scrambled to the head of the bed and hunched there like a wounded animal. I did not know where I was. I did not know which Talya Conner I was. Sergeant Conner, the soldier dimly traipsing through life? Or was I Talya, a warrior set to change the fates of those destined to die?
"My dear Talya, I peered through the darkness at the tall figure clad in grey cloaks and my racing throat ached.
"Gandalf?" I asked softly. My voice was rough, graveled.
"Yes. It is I," He said softly, moving towards me cautiously. I felt myself relax and I slid down, boneless, to the pillow below me. He sat down on a chair next to me.
"What happened?" I asked. "Please, tell me!"
Gandalf raised a hand.
"Talya, be at peace. You need to rest easy. You were injured terribly."
I shook my head.
"I don't care, Gandalf." I could feel myself shaking. "Tell me. Are they all alive? Are they okay?"
He let out a long breath and for a moment, I thought the worst. He leaned forward and took the silver pitcher in hand and poured out a portion into a cup. He passed it to me and bade me drink. I sipped the cool water and slid back into the bed, realizing that I would get no answer until I settled myself down.
"Kili took an arrow to the shoulder and is currently being tended by a very relieved Tauriel. Fili's leg was broken, but despite that, he has taken great pleasure in tormenting his younger brother. Ori, Dori, Nori, Oin, Gloin, Balin, Bombur and Bifur have all suffered a series of cuts and bruises, but they will all heal well. Bofur suffered a head injury, but is otherwise fine…."
I felt my heart tighten.
"Thorin, too, lives. He has suffered grievous injuries, as have you, but will recover from them."
I felt a terrible tension fade from my body, but frowned suddenly.
"And Dwalin?" I asked softly.
"Died protecting his king."
I closed my eyes tightly and let out a long breath.
"You did well, my dear." Gandalf's voice was soft and full of emotion. "Do not let the fall of Dwalin haunt you. He went to his death willingly and honorably."
I opened my eyes slowly and looked at him. Despite his comforting words, his face was sad.
"Bilbo?!"I demanded suddenly, realizing that the dear hobbit had not been mentioned. Gandalf shook his head suddenly, rushing to reassure me.
"Forgive me, Talya. He is well. He's taken to tending each of you like a mother hen."
"Then what…?"
Gandalf sighed softly.
"It is not for me to tell you."
"Gandalf…"
The door creaked open again and my eyes shot up to find someone there I had not expected to see.
Lady Galadriel slipped through the doors and, with a casual flick of her wrist, closed it softly behind her. She glimmered and glistened in a much less extravagant gown than the one she had worn in Rivendell, though it was no less beautiful.
"Lady Galadriel," I said softly, bowing my head from where I sat. Even with as terrible I felt, her presence eased something in me. She drifted closer, slippered feet gliding along easily on the rug-covered floor. She stopped just behind Gandalf and touched his shoulder easily. The old grey wizard frowned slightly and nodded his head once, a silent question answered by the slight incline of her head.
"Sweet child," She said softly. She drifted closer and sat down next to me on the bed. She reached out and smoothed a hand over my hair, which was braid-free and hung loose and limp around my face.
"You have done so well." She smiled kindly at me, but sadly, too. "The heirs of Durin are saved."
"Then why are you and Gandalf looking at me like that?" I asked, frowning. She shook her head, her golden hair shimmering in the moon light.
"You were injured gravely, Talya." She started slowly. "If Legolas Thranduilion had not been at your side, you would have perished. It was a very close thing. Three of your ribs were broken, the lowest one puncturing your lung. You suffered much bruising, within and without. You, too, were concussed."
I looked at her searchingly.
"You were with child, Talya." She finally said. It was something that I had not expected, and the suddenness of the words hit me hard. I clutched the sheet over my stomach and looked between Gandalf and Galadriel.
"How do you…" I asked severely.
"You bled. Heavily, and no injuries could account for it save one." She answered. There was a hesitation in her voice, a sorrow. Something she was not telling me.
"What aren't you saying?" I asked. I was angry and hurt and couldn't even begin to describe how I felt.
"Talya," Gandalf started. I shook my head, too quickly.
"Tell me." I asked, voice breaking. "I deserve to know, dammit!"
Gandalf opened his mouth to argue, but the lady shook her head.
"Perhaps it best if we did not yet speak…" He began to argue.
"She is right, Mithrandir. She deserves to know what it was she sacrificed."
Galadriel turned solemn eyes on me,
"It was to be the only son ever born to Thorin Oakenshield." Galadriels voice came sharp, almost bitter, and the tone did not suit her. I jerked away from her, a sharp cry falling from my lips.
"No!" The ache was sharp and insistent within me and I felt an emptiness in me that I had never felt, missing something that I had not even known was there.
"That's not fair!" I cried out angrily.
"You escaped with your life, Talya Conner, as well as the lives of those you have come to care for. It was a sacrifice…"
"A sacrifice?! Is that what you meant in Rivendell?" I choked out, curling in on myself. "So, what, are you telling me? That if I had not fought…"
"Then you would have born the son of Thorin Oakenshield… The only remaining heir to the direct line of Durin." Her voice was a whisper.
"That's not fair!" I snapped out again, bitterly. "Damn them! Damn the Valar!"
A sob ripped from my throat then and Gandalf reached out to touch my shoulder. I looked at him pleadingly.
"How could they ask me to choose, Gandalf?" I asked desperately. "If I had known..."
I let out another sob and Galadriel shook her head sadly.
"Would you have truly stayed behind and sacrificed the lives of three for that of one?" She asked. I closed my eyes tightly and knew the answer. I sniffed violently, my broken and bruised ribs throbbing terribly.
"Does Thorin know?" I asked, voice fragmented. Gandalf nodded slowly.
"Once he and the others fought their way to your side… He took you from Legolas and carried you here himself. There was too much blood for him to not suspect."
I curled in on myself, fisting the blankets against my stomach and the emptiness within. I cried then. Sobbed and ached and wept, shoulders heaving, until Gandalf pressed a cup into my hand, urging me to drink. I downed the bitter contents with no thought, desperate for some relief from the keen edge of grief welling within me.