I do not own any of the characters or the Hobbit (just the AU storyline and my OC) those are the work of the esteemed and brilliant John Ronald Reull Tolkien, and without his genius,this and many other fan fics would not be in existence.

Please review! I love getting them-they keep me encouraged J

Three wargs began to approach the hobbit slowly, growling. Bilbo's heart was in his throat, but he stood his ground.

He could hear the labored breathing of the dwarf king behind him, but did not dare to take his eyes off the wargs approaching him.

Ironic, isn't it, the hobbit thought to himself. Here I am, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, a formerly respectable hobbit, about to meet my end at the jaws of wargs on a mountainside in the wild. Never thought this would be how I would die.

A fiery spirit suddenly burned within him, the blaze that had been hidden within from young childhood had come alive. At that moment, he was no Baggins. He was a Took, and he would defend his king and friend to his dying breath.

And if this is how he was destined to die, then so be it.

XXX

Azog sneered at the stubborn Halfling before him. Adrenaline surged in his veins as he beheld his prize behind the hobbit, his eyes glinting at his prize. He was so close to victory.

And the dwarf king, though he did not know it, had made a grave mistake. He had guarded the young blond dwarf with his life, and had shown great fear when the dwarf he called Fili had been injured. The pale orc had watched with growing interest as the frightened dwarf king tied off the young one's wounds, tenderness, love and worry showing in the usually stern gaze.

The look that Thorin had given him after had confirmed the pale orc's suspicions. And Azog would greatly enjoy making him watch as he destroyed that which was most dear and precious to the arrogant dwarf king.

His son.

XXX

Fili wasn't Thorin's son, of course. He was his nephew-his sister's child, but he (and Kili) had been the closest thing to sons that the dwarf king had ever had.

Dwalin had seen that bond form, especially after the lads had lost their father in that tragic accident so many years ago. Thorin tried as best he could to be a father figure to them, though he wasn't always the best at it.

But one thing Dwalin knew- no matter how many mistakes his friend made while trying to raise the lads, Thorin would protect his nephew from harm as long as he lived. And as the burly dwarf had fought to gain a hold in the tree, he had seen the recognition dawn in Azog's eyes. The dwarf's face paled.

He knows, Dwalin realized as he stood atop the tree trunk and drew Grasper and Keeper. He knows that Fili is kin-and of the Line of Durin.

The warrior knew then that, no matter the cost, Azog must be destroyed. Readying his axes, a great war cry emanated from the large dwarf as he charged toward the wargs surrounding the pale orc. He heard the familiar tread of Balin and Gloin behind him, the two having managed to rise from the tree as well. The familiar words were echoed behind him as the company's cries rallied together, the famous battle cry echoing off the mountainside.

Baruk Khazad, Khazad ai-Menu!

XXX

The orcs and wargs turned their heads to meet flashing steel. Axe and sword flew as the furious dwarves fought in defense of their fallen king.

Bofur had also managed to disentangle himself from the falling tree, and knelt beside the young prince, ripping off pieces of his own tunic to bind the bite marks on his arm and staunch the blood flow further. Fili had thankfully succumbed to unconsciousness again, and he was unhindered in his task.

The miner's eyes stung, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was the smoke from the fire or his sorrow. Reaching up to wipe them with the back of his hand, he tied off the last of the marks, before wiping the black blood off the young heir's face.

The miner then stood, orc blade held up as he stood vigil over his fallen prince, having lost his mattock in Goblin town. The young prince would not be harmed again, not until the miner had drawn his last breath.

This was what he had sworn to do, and he would not fail in his task.

XXX

Gandalf was hard pressed to keep his hold on the staff any longer.

Dori, being old yet one of the strongest of the company, had managed to keep his grip on the end of the smooth staff for quite a while, but it was not to last.

The moth returned, flying by the wizard's face just as Dori lost his grip, the dwarf and his younger brother plunging to the depths below with a cry. The second the two dwarves fell, the wizard yanked his staff upward, confident that his call had been answered, and ready to aid the fallen king.

He would be forever grateful to Gwaihir, the Windlord, for keeping the oath he had made to the grey pilgrim so many years ago.

XXX

Dori and Ori landed on the back of a giant eagle, their eyes wide.

Not willing to contest the means of their apparent "rescue", Dori clutched his youngest brother, who was in front of him, his knuckles white in his grip.

"Hold on!" he shouted, and the terrified Ori complied, gripping the eagle's feathers tightly.

He glanced backward over Dori's shoulder, and sighed with relief as the shadows of several more eagles began to descend towards the cliff edge.

Thank Mahal, the scribe whispered. The tears finally flowed freely, and the young scribe made no attempts to stop them. Dori gripped him tightly from behind, the elder's grief soon apparent as well.

They were safe, but not all of them. The scribe looked back at the mountain- the mountain that had become a grave.

Goodbye, Kili, he whispered in Khuzdul, throat catching at the memory of his young friends. Goodbye, Cirashala. May your spirits find their way to the halls of your fathers, and dwell in peace forevermore.

XXX

The great beasts swooped down, and Bilbo's eyes grew wide as they began to snatch up wargs, dousing them in flames before throwing them off the side of the cliff.

All eyes turned toward the sky, faces pale as they began to duck, unsure if the great birds were friends or foe. An eagle landed on the top of a tree, great wings flapping as the tall pine came crashing down, crushing three wargs beneath it. Another came up, wings fanning the flames until they consumed four more wargs.

The orcs and wargs began scrambling, their attempts to avoid the large talons largely unsuccessful. Azog and his mount, however dodged them fairly easily, the pair being quite a bit more intelligent than their subordinates. The giant orc growled as he saw his hunting party grow smaller by the second.

His eyes caught a movement to his left, and his eyes darted towards his prize, the dwarf king having succumbed to unconsciousness shortly after the insufferable Halfling had interfered.

No, he thought to himself as he saw the eagle's trajectory. He directed his mount towards the dwarf king, but was too late.

XXX

Gwaihir, the Lord of the Eagles, swooped down with a cry, talons gently lifting the unconscious dwarf from the ground.

He made sure to grab what he assumed to be the dwarf's weapon, before rising quickly above the fray, seeing the distrustful looks of the dwarves near.

He wouldn't be surprised if the dwarves believed his flock to be their enemy, and believe him to intend to drop what appeared to be their leader to his death. In response to the glares, he gently readjusted the unconscious dwarf in his talons, before gripping him tight, and flew upwards, trusting those under his command to fulfill their task.

The eagle lord did not notice the small oaken shield that fell to the ground.

XXX

Bilbo heard the pale orc roar with rage as Thorin was carried away, and smirked.

That smirk quickly disappeared, however, as another eagle followed the first, talons sweeping toward the terrified hobbit. He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out, and with a cry he was snatched up, only to be released.

His eyes bulged nearly out of their sockets as the hobbit fell, a scream ripping from his throat. The scream was abruptly stopped as Bilbo landed on the back of another eagle with a thud. The hobbit blinked stupidly in surprise, before seeing the ground passing below him at an astonishing speed.

Heart leaping into his throat, he gripped the feathers of the great eagle tightly, causing the bird below to squeak.

"Can you loosen your hold a bit?" the great bird squawked, causing the startled hobbit's jaw to drop. "I won't drop you!"

"Uh, erm, all right," the hobbit stuttered, loosening his grip. The bird sighed in relief, shoulders twitching just a bit as the eagle readjusted his tugged feathers.

Bilbo looked behind him, seeing the rest of the flock snatching up his companions. Some were dropped on the backs of others, and a few unlucky ones remained in the great birds' talons. Bilbo could see the distinctive silhouette of Bombur hanging from one eagle, and pitied the poor dwarf.

His arms are going to hurt badly, Bilbo thought to himself with a grimace. I hope these eagles don't intend to fly all night!

XXX

Gandalf watched as each dwarf was plucked from the ground, and, despite the gravity of the situation, chuckled at the expression on the hobbit's face as he was snatched up as well.

His gaze returned to the young heir, still lying unconscious with Bofur standing vigil over him. An eagle swooped down towards the pair, and Bofur raised his sword. The wizard's eyes widened as he cried out.

"Bofur, NO!" he shouted, causing the miner's arm to drop and look at the wizard with a confused expression. "These are friends!" Bofur's eyes grew wide, but before he could respond, a great eagle snatched him up, dropping him as well.

Another eagle followed, gently picking up the young heir much like his lord had done with Thorin.

The wizard felt the tree below his feet shift suddenly, and as it began to give way, he jumped.

He landed on the back of an eagle below him, and glanced behind him at the fiery cliff top as it slowly faded from view, before his eyes turned to look at the young heir ahead of him. Gwaihir and Thorin were already tiny specks on the moonlit horizon, the wizard's keen eyes unable to assess the dwarf king's condition from this distance. A roar of fury sounded faintly behind them, and the wizard felt a small sense of triumph at foiling the pale orc's plans.

As the wind blew past and the eagles rose to fly over the mountain top ahead, the grey wizard could only hope that they weren't too late to save the last of the line of Durin.

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READERS: For those of you who were asking for more Kili/Cirashala- they will appear next chapter-no worries :)

A response to guest reviewer Ri-chan: I agree with Mr. Juarez :) I have also heard of Dia de Muertos-the day of the dead :) I prefer harvest festivals myself, to be honest. Hay rides, hot cider, carnival games (with candy for prizes instead of tokens), roasted pumpkin seeds, potluck dinner, fun songs, music :D My husband and I plan to get a small farm eventually, when he is done with his schooling, and perhaps then we can host such a thing at our place :) I have only ever been to one before, and it was so much fun! And it doesn't conflict with my faith either, so it's a win-win situation :D

A response to guest reviewer- Guest: Here you go! :D I apologize for any wait, but it has been a VERY busy past week…but when winter sewing and preparation is finally done, I should have more time to write, and will (hopefully) be able to update more frequently.

Thanks to all who review, favorite, and follow- you guys are so awesome! :D :D :D