Author's Note: Sorry for making the last chapter so short. I just felt the need to write a quick little moment between Lina and Thorin. For those of you who, like me, enjoyed reading through Appendix A at the end of The Return of the King, this battle is actually written about. Peter Jackson has this battle depicted in a much different way in the first Hobbit film. I'm hoping to find a happy medium between the two versions to depict.
Date: TA 2799, The Battle of Azanulbizar.
Thorin: 53 years old.
Lina: 50 years old
Lina slid the long braid of her hair through a slot in her helm, adjusting the sky blue ribbons she'd entwined in the strands. Ona wore similar ribbons in her hair and Dwalin had them flying from his helm. The trio used the ribbons to easily locate each other in combat. Other line breaker groups used similar methods to keep track of each other. Ona's brothers and their companions painted green streaks on their helmets and shields. Anything that might help them survive and accomplish their goal was needed.
The trumpet sounded far off in the distance and was echoed by others throughout the camp. It was time to go. Lina nodded to her two companions, and, picking up their weapons, they made their way to where Frerin stood waiting. The other line breakers were gathering around their assigned commanders, all armed to the teeth and prepared to do damage.
Other warriors passed them in reporting to their assigned positions. Ira and Kira gave Lina and her band of line breakers the two-fingered salute which had become common within the circle of friends. The salute was returned and the women marched on. There was nothing more to be done, nothing more to be said.
Last minute adjustments were made to armor and weapons. The warriors shifted restlessly, impatient to be on the move. They had thrown themselves into this war heart, body, and soul. There was no turning back for any of them now.
Lina watched as Dwalin spoke quietly with the young dwarven prince. She was counting on the camaraderie between the males to temper Frerin's impulsiveness. Hopefully they would be able to head off any problems before entering battle. Fate was already set against them. The day had dawned bright, but the clouds had quickly rolled in to obscure the sun. A bitter winter wind whipped through the valleys, biting at any exposed skin. Fingers grew numb quickly and fumbled with weapons or armor. It was an ill omen of the day's events.
A gauntleted hand settled on Lina's shoulder. She turned to find Thorin standing there. Their eyes locked and the familiar jolts raced through Lina's body. They did not speak, there was no need. The only thing communicated was clear in their eyes.
Live.
A second sounding of the horns broke them from their moment. Lina fell into position behind Frerin, Ona and Dwalin beside her. One by one the groups moved out. Had Lina stopped moving to feel the ground, she surely would have felt the ground trembling with the footfalls of the dwarven armies.
The eastern gates of Moria rose into view as the dwarves left the cover of the trees. The ground of the plains rose in height as it approached the foot of the gate. Arrayed on the high ground all around the open eastern gates was the orc army of Azog. There seemed to be no end of them. They covered the hills in a black writhing mass and spilled out of the open gates. Even from this distance, Lina could see the single pale form near the entrance of Moria. Azog. Thror's companion had described him as a pale orc, far larger than the others. It could be none other.
Out of the trees surrounding the plain came the dwarves. Their enemy shifted uneasily, but did not move to retreat at the sight of the advancing army. The orcs had the advantage in numbers, but the dwarves had far better weapons and training. Today many an orc would go down beneath the fury of the dwarves. Never had such hatred and anger burned in so many.
The armies came to a halt at the foot of the hills. Lina gripped her war hammer tightly as she and Dwalin took their places just in front of Frerin. The battle cry began from the lips of Thrain and was echoed up and down the line, growing louder with each pass.
"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!"
Lina screamed out the battle cry, her voice joining in the cries of thousands of others. Then, in the midst of the cry, Thrain began his advance. The cry became unintelligible as the dwarves rushed toward their enemy. As the two lines drew closer together, the royal family, as planned, drew back just behind their line breakers. The line breakers hit the enemy first, shattering spear points and axes.
Lina knocked aside a pike and, with the momentum of her hammer, impaled the orc with the wicked spike on her hammer's head. Dwalin shattered the skull of another. Frerin came up between them in the opening they'd created. His battle axe went to work, felling orcs all around as if they were dead wood. The group plowed through the orcs, following the charge of Thrain and angling toward Azog.
It was all Lina could do in the midst of the chaos to keep track of her line breakers and their charge. Any and all battle plans had gone out the window within seconds of the lines colliding. Now the only plan was to kill and not be killed.
Dwarves were falling and dying all around them as they advanced. Ona's blade cut down an orc trying for the prince. Lina knocked back a band of orcs with one swing of her hammer, clearing a path to get them closer to other dwarves. The longer the dwarves could stay together, the longer they were likely to survive.
What the orc hordes lacked in weapons and skill, they more than made up for with numbers. The charge Thrain had led could not penetrate deep enough into the orc army for the phalanx units to haul the line forward. With a few minutes of striking the line, the dwarves found themselves being driven back into a small group of trees.
"Come now, beggar-beards! Is this the best you could muster!?" The cry carried over the battle field. It caught the attention of all combatants. The great pale orc stood on a ridge, mocking them. He held up the emaciated and tattered head of King Thror, recognizable by the metal still plated in his beard and the disgusting name of his murderer emblazoned upon his forehead.
A fearsome scream of rage erupted from the mouths of every dwarf on the field. With renewed fury, they went after their enemy. The pale orc simply laughed at his opponents, throwing the head high over the melee.
The head tumbled across the plains to land near Frerin and Lina. The prince paused for a moment to glance at what had landed beside him. Lina knew then, he was going to move without them.
"Dwalin!" Lina bellowed over the clamor. Ona heard the cry and turned after her companions just in time to see Frerin make a bull-headed charge through the combatants toward Azog. His three line breakers charged after him, shattering skulls and removing heads as they went.
Thrain had already reached the pale orc when Frerin was within sight of his foe. The king struck again and again at the pale orc, his all-consuming rage driving his blows. It was all in vain. The orc laughed at his attempts, mocked him, and goaded him on, all while dodging the dwarf king's blows. The orc prepared his blade to strike down the king. One of Ona's brothers leapt between the king and the orc, attempting to defend his lord. The orc's blade cut through the leather armor with little effort and slashed across the face of the dwarf king beyond.
Two dwarves ran forward at once. Frerin raced to defend his wounded father. Ona went after her brother's killer.
"Ona! No!" Lina knew her scream was in vain as she watched the orc's blade coming to meet the line breaker's staff. The staff shattered under the blow, knocking the female dwarf backwards. Azog's guard dealt the killing blow to the stunned dwarf, impaling her on his spear.
Lina felt the rage beginning to burn brighter within her at her friend's death. She spun about to knock back a pair of orcs advancing on the king and his younger son. Dwalin was already standing over the king, his hammer making short work of any who drew too near. Thrain's remaining line breakers were engaged in battle with Azog's guards. That left Frerin. Lina found him attempting to go after the pale orc in the same manner his father had. Using her massive hammer, Lina knocked one of Azog's own guards in front of the dwarf prince. The pale orc snarled as he realized his blade had cut down one of his own.
Dwalin managed to catch hold of Frerin and yank him out of the way of the orc's next attack. The gap between the prince and Azog was filled almost immediately with other battling orcs and dwarves. Lina's left arm shot across Frerin's chest as he moved to go after the orc again. The look on her face must have been terrible to behold for the prince paled beneath the orc blood spattering his face and returned to the protection of Dwalin, Lina, and Thrain's surviving line breakers.
"Troll!" The line breakers looked up from their battles to see orcs and dwarves flying in all directions. A towering figure appeared over the melee. The troll's huge club cleared away the fighters not far from where the little band stood.
Lina picked up one end of Ona's snapped weapon. The blade was disk shaped and wickedly sharp. She drew back her arm and flung the blade forward. It whirled through the air, slicing deep into the creature's leg just above the knee. The beast screamed in pain and fell to its knees. The dwarves were immediately upon it, slashing and hacking until the troll lay still.
A shout from behind Lina pulled her back from the massive body. Flames had appeared around the king's position. The orcs were spreading fire through the trees, attempting to burn the small band out. The body of one orc burst into flames as it fell from the end of a dwarf's sword.
Through the smoke and flames, Lina saw Azog advancing on the royal family again. Frerin leapt around Dwalin's protecting arm and charged his foe. The line breakers saw the swing of the orc's sword. No one could reach the prince in time.
Lina and Dwalin leapt at the pale orc in the same instance, screaming their defiance as the prince's now headless body crumpled and fell. Azog kicked Dwalin backwards with one booted foot before swinging his shield to deflect Lina's hammer. The orc drove her back, causing her to fall over the prince's body. The pale orc was over her in an instant, his blade raised for the killing blow. A body and a massive shield were suddenly between Lina and Azog. The blade hit the shield with such force that the wood splintered and broke.
The force of the blow knocked Lina's defender to the ground. Thorin rolled away from the orc, blood streaming down his face and battered arm. A shard of his own shield was protruding from his side. The orc came back for a second attack. Thorin seized an oak branch from the ground and blocked Azog's blade. He kicked at the orc's feet and forced him to jump back.
Thorin's intervention gave Lina a chance to get to her feet. She swung her hammer, smashing through the burning remains of an orc. The hammer head flared as the orc's remains stuck to it. The burning head crashed into Azog's chest plate, throwing the tall orc back from Thorin. The orc's army filled the gap between them, Azog disappearing from view.
Receiving a nod from Dwalin as he took up his defense of the king, Lina looked to Thorin. His line breakers had vanished, likely dead. The battle lust had taken him over wholly and he was preparing to follow Azog at any cost. Lina shattered the shield of one orc and impaled another as she cleared the way for Thorin. Her hammer continued to flame as the bodies of orcs shattered upon it, adding their flesh and blood to feed the flames.
The two dwarves were a fearsome sight to behold. Thorin used his oak branch alternately as a shield and club, deflecting weapons and bashing heads. His dark hair hung loosely around his face, his helm having been lost early in the battle. Blood, both black and red, was smeared over his strong form. His blue eyes blazed with fury as he removed the head of yet another orc with his axe. Lina fought beside him, her body as streaked with blood as his. Her massive hammer did not extinguish. The blazing head shattered the orc armor and sent the twisted creatures flying from her path. Orcs fled in terror from them and dwarves stared up in shock and awe.
The pair drove through the hordes to find Azog. The orc numbers appeared to be thinning as they rushed forward. When they reached the top of a small rise, they both saw the reason. The reinforcements from the Iron Hills had arrived. The fresh warriors were cutting through the remaining orcs with ease. Already Nain, the ruler of the Iron Hill dwarves, had reached the entrance of Moria. His axe flashed in battle with Azog. The pale orc struck the dwarf with such a fierce blow that the dwarf collapsed to rise no more. Yet even as Azog turned to escape, he was beheaded by Nain's young son, Dain Ironfoot.
In anger that it had not been by his hand that Azog had perished, Thorin turned on the nearest band of orcs. His axe was cutting them down even as they fled before him. The oak branch still clasped in his left hand deflected any blow which came too near. Lina turned her flaming hammer to clearing orcs away from the prince, protecting his back.
The battle was coming to a close as the orcs ran yelping southward. The fresh troops of the Iron Hills and the few survivors of the other armies followed in pursuit. Lina and Thorin turned aside from the chase to discover if Thrain and his defenders still lived.
The fire, which had remained concentrated around Thrain and his defenders, was growing fiercer. Dwalin and Ona's surviving brother staggered out from the smoke bearing the wounded king, blood streaming from his left eye and his right leg dragging brokenly upon the ground. A few other survivors guarded the king's escape from the inferno.
As they escaped the tree line, the fire flared. A sharp crack like that of stone shattering rang out across the field. The sap of a tree had overheated and literally exploded. Shards of the tree flew everywhere.
The dwarves hit the ground at the sound of the explosion, but the blast caught both Thorin and Lina. Thorin was pelted by shards, a few of the smaller pieces lodging in his armor and hands. Lina felt the sharp pain in her abdomen as she fell backwards.
Her vision clouded as she lay upon the charred and blood-soaked earth. She faintly heard her name being called, but could not identify the speaker. Everything faded. The noise of the fleeing orcs and their pursuers became muffled and far away. Hands were lifting her head, but she could neither see nor hear who was holding her. Then her world went silent and black.