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.)

AN: A Thorin POV, as NinjaChipmunk requested.

It was done. At long last, Azog the Defiler, bane to his kin, lay dead. He had thought that once the deed was done, that once the pale orc lay dead, that it would bring him a measure of satisfaction, perhaps even a measure of peace. But instead he felt hollow, tired and oh so weary.

Thorin looked down at Dwalin, his friend, his brother in arms, as he lay dying, the sword of Azog having pierced through his chest.

"He is slain, then," Dwalin managed. The raw pain in his voice ate at Thorin and he reached out to tightly grasp Dwalin's hand in his.

"Yes, my friend," Thorin managed, nodding slowly. Dwalin closed his eyes tightly, a groan escaping his lips as he tried once more to speak.

"Talya…"

Her name on his lips made Thorin's chest constrict agonizingly. How he longed to see her face, to touch her, to hold her. To beg for her forgiveness for all the pain he had wrought on her.

"I was... so wrong. About her." Dwalin opened his heavy lids, eyes searching for Thorin's own. The King looked down on his friend and shook his head.

"Do not speak of it now. All is forgiven." Thorin could see the light in Dwalin's eyes beginning to fade and it burned him. "I know you have only ever meant well."

"You must... find her." Dwalin's voice was ragged. "She… Rode here. To Ravenhill. With me."

"What…?" Thorin must have heard wrong. Dain had told him that she was there, fighting, but to realize that she was so near…

"Save her, Thorin. You.." Dwalin let out a hard gasp, a froth of blood lining his lips. Thorin tightened his grip on the dwarf's hand. "Need her. Saved you."

"I will find her, Dwalin. Be at peace. There will be healers…" The lie was bitter on his tongue and he found he had not the taste to finish it. Dwalin gave a short indignant bark of laughter.

"There are no healers for me, my brother, my king." Dwalin looked up at him again. "I go now to the halls of our fathers. Find her, Thorin. If we all… loved as she… this world would be a merrier place."

Thorin closed his eyes as Dwalin's voice faltered and the tension in his friend's body eased then, a deep rattling sound coming from within the warrior's chest. Thorin cursed the name of Azog as the last breath left Dwalin's lips.

"Go now, Dwalin, to your eternal rest." His voice was strained as he settled his friends hand back to his chest.

He pushed himself to stand and, though his body was fatigued and he ached fiercely, he forced himself to a run once more. He did not even know where to begin to search in the carnage and chaos around for the woman who had brought light back into his world. Everywhere, orcs lay dead and dying, or running as the armies of Men, Dwarves, and Elves began to overwhelm. Eagles screeched overhead, but Thorin did not pay any heed.

"Uncle!" His head jerked to the side where he caught sight of his sister-sons, though injured, alive and well. Bofur, Nori, Bilbo, and the she-elf where with them, keeping a keen watch for any remaining trouble. He had no words for the relief he felt that they were still living, and yet the tightness in his chest did not ease.

"Talya, have any of you seen her?" He demanded, voice firm.

"Aye. She rode here with us, on the back of Dwalin's ram. She forbade us from entering the tower, and bid Nori and Bofur to ride here with us." Fili answered readily, wincing as he shifted in place, his leg no doubt broken. Thorin narrowed his eyes, remembering clearly how Azog had emerged from the top of the tower, pointing down at him and promising to wipe out the last of the line of Durin. A sharp jolt went through him as he realized what would have happened if Fili and Kili had listened to his command, and had gone to search the tower…

"I saw her run from Bolg," Bilbo said suddenly. "Though where too, I am afraid I can not say."

"Dammit," Thorin muttered darkly, the once foreign word tripping from his tongue all too easily. "Bilbo, to me. The rest of you, stay here!"

Thorin grabbed the sleeve of the hobbit and tugged him quickly in the direction in which he had started off. There was a fine tremor in him now as he searched the landscape. He felt near frantic as he looked for any sign of her.

"Thorin…!" Bilbo's voice was sudden and so intent on his search was he that Thorin nearly missed the sharp bark that was his name. He turned, frowning, to ask what the matter was of the hobbit when his eyes caught sight of the elf prince, Legolas, a limp form in his arms. His heart constricted in his chest and he felt a sudden cold that had little to do with the chilled air.

"Talya…" The word came unbidden to his lips and suddenly, he was moving. He did not even remember taking his first step when he was suddenly next to her.

Her face was bloodied and bruised, a shallow but long cut running across her cheek. Her hair was matted and thick with mud and worse things. Thorin's eyes travelled further down and a harsh gasp of air left his lips unbeknownst to him. The right side of her chest was a ruin, the shirt there torn and sticky with blood. She was still, so very still. So broken.

"She yet lives, Master Oakenshield," Came Legolas's voice. The sharpish tone in which the elf spoke was ignored as the sheer relief his words brought soothed the sudden and agonizing pain in his heart.

"But we must get her help as soon as possible. I have done what I was able, but I fear she may still fade."

Thorin nodded mutely, absently. He reached out, heedless of the elf's closeness, and gently touched her face, brushing away one of the matted and mussed braids. How small she looked here, how weak. He leaned forward and brushed chapped lips tenderly against her forehead.

"Amrâlimê," The word was all but torn from his throat, his voice ragged. He cared not how weak he sounded then. A sudden fear gripped him that she would die here now, in an elf's arms. That he would never again listen to the sound of her voice, or of her laughter. That he would never again be able to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.

"Let me carry her then, elf," Though the words were sharp, his tone was not. Legolas shifted in front of him and Thorin was grateful to him, for the elf handled her so gently, a respect there that would have surprised Thorin had it been anyone other than Talya.

He took her in his arms then, one arm tucking under her knees, the other under her head, and he once more realized how small she truly was. She had always been full of life, and perhaps that was what made her seem so much bigger. Or perhaps it was the paleness to her now, the deathlike stillness in which she lay that made her seem so much less than she was. The only way Thorin even knew she lived was from the soft and slow beat within her chest as her heart labored on despite all.

Legolas led the way towards Fili, Kili and the others. As they drew near, Thorin caught sight of the rest of the company and a temporary relief washed through him when he realized that they, too all lived. The death of Dwalin laid heavy on his chest, the thought that his friend lay dead in his stead was a like a whip lash, the guilt sharp and insistent. But had had died a warriors death, one that he himself chose. The fact that the same was true of Talya did not matter. If she died, he was not sure if he could live with himself.

He did not speak as he passed the company, merely glancing at them all as he carried her forth. If they spoke, he did not know. If they looked upon him with questions in their eyes he could not say. His arms ached but he refused to put her down in case any moment that she breathed would be her last. Slowly but surely, his kin and his burglar fell into step behind him, the two elves bringing up the rear.

Thorin was not sure how long he walked for. His steps were cautious as he picked through the battle field, so painfully aware of every beat of her heart, of every whisper of a groan that passed her lips. He shifted her in his arms and she cried out ever so softly. He flinched at the sound, but recoiled more when he realized that the arm that had been under her knees was wet. His eyes flicked down to her trousers and he realized that where her legs joined was dark with blood. He frowned, confused for mere seconds before a jarring thought hit him and he snapped his head to look first at Bilbo, then to the elf.

Legolas had followed his glance and there was a sorrow there that would have surprised Thorin had the situation been any other. The elf met his eyes and nodded but once to confirm the question that was there and suddenly, the weight in Thorin's chest became unbearable. With child. Had she even known? If she had, would she ever have told him?

Thoin's eyes opened to the darkness and he felt the familiar ache in his chest as he woke once more from the nightmare that had haunted him since first he slept after the battle. The sight of Talya wounded and in the pallor of death was slow to leave his mind and he reached out into the darkness to find the sleeping form next to him.

He had rolled over sometime in the night, he realized, and quickly turned back around to face his beloved. He lifted a large hand and ran it lightly down her exposed arm, finding comfort in the warmth there. She lay on her left side, no doubt her right still too tender, her long hair free and curled around her neck and shoulders like a lion's mane. He shifted closer to her, slowly and gently bringing an arm over her form and holding her tightly to his chest. He burrowed his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her scent, the knot in his chest from his bitter memories and dreams lessening.

Thorin had never thought to find love. He had spent so many years in bitterness and in anger, thinking only of avenging his family and reclaiming Erebor. He had never given much thought to what would happen beyond that. In his mind he cold admit freely that he had never expected to survive to see the day of his people's return to Erebor and to find himself now with everything he had ever hoped to accomplish in his grasp… He was surprised at how little it meant to him.

He had his kin. He had his brothers-in-arms. And he had Talya. If he had nothing else in the world, those things would sustain him.