Date: TA 3019
Lina: 270 years old
Lina blinked up at the sky, her eyes aching at the brightness. A small, breathy laugh escaped her lips as the first snowflakes fluttered down across her face. It was spring, and yet the snow still fell.
"Another cold battle for us," Dwalin said gruffly.
"Our foes are disheartened now as they were not at Azanulbizar," Lina pointed out, her eyes scanning the Easterling army arrayed in the valley before them. Thorin III's spies intercepted messages between their enemy and the others to the south, indicating that most of the Easterling's strength was broken at Minas Tirith. Easterlings were deserting in droves now. Outriders and skirmishers from the Men of Dale and the Earthshakers caught a dozen on their first patrol.
"Gimli sent word to his father: Durin's Bane is ended. Moria is safe to reclaim."
"I heard. I'm sorry about Balin, I miss his wise council sorely."
Dwalin's voice caught in his throat, gravel in each word, "Fool ran off without a wizard. Took half of Kira's army, Oin, and Ori with him."
He cleared his throat, listening to the heavy footfalls of the dwarven army preparing for battle within Erebor.
Lina's fingers traced the intricate patterns in the stonework before her, feeling numb once again at the loss of so many of her friends.
Following the defeat of Bolg at the Battle of the Five Armies, the orcs and goblins had run back to their dark holes. Kira and her army managed to survive somewhat intact. Fully one third of the strength remaining to her after the long march to Erebor had died in the battle. With the blessing of King Dain, she and her people returned to the Misty Mountains. Her army survived as they had before, escorting merchants and travelers over the mountains. Some of the survivors, however, reached the end of their contracts and returned to the Blue Mountains.
These survivors of a battle seventy-eight years earlier formed the core of the Earthshakers. Most of them wanted family and a home to fight for again. Simply fighting for gold had not turned out as they'd hoped. Lina, as the new leader in the Blue Mountains, happily accepted their return. Her city was smaller than it had been under Thorin. Many of the dwarves flocked to Dain's banner as they once had her husband's. Only a handful remained in the Blue Mountains. So the city became a refuge for any manner of being wishing to begin life anew. The dwarves were of no particular clan, and they were joined by whatever wanderers appeared from the various corners of Middle Earth. Half-breeds and humans were the most common, but, Lina observed, there was more than one member of the Took lineage present in the ranks. Usually these showed up with a letter of introduction from Bilbo, explaining that one of his relatives desired adventure in a way the Shire could not offer.
Dwalin's voice intruded once more upon her thoughts.
"When this is all over, when we've driven back these bastards, we could lead another expedition to take back Moria. Gandalf cleared out the Balrog, the rest should be a simple mop up job, just like old times."
Lina smiled bitterly.
"Not quite, my friend. Such glories belong to our children now. We are old, past our prime, and far too weak to do what is needed for victory. No, this—this will be my last battle," she turned to look at her companion. Though younger than she, Dwalin's face was etched with deep wrinkles and crags, marking every battle, every joy, and every sorrow clearly. Lina knew her own face bore similar marks. The old scar her father delivered to her as a youngling was barely visible under her own wrinkles and battle lines.
"We are old, aren't we?" Dwalin chuckled, "But we can still knock the younglings on their arses when we need to."
"Aye, that we can."
For a moment, the pair stood in silence, their gazes drifting to the dwarves arming themselves for battle below.
"They're so young, barely big enough to hold the swords and axes they wield," Lina whispered, more to herself than to Dwalin.
"Most are older than we were at Azanulbizar," came the gruff reply.
"Still, they are but children. It seems cruel that they must bear so many wounds at so young an age."
"But they are our children, and I am proud to have my daughters fight beside me in battle."
"I mean no disrespect, Dwalin. You know that. I just wish they did not need to experience the same sorrows we did."
Her eyes travelled to her own daughter standing at the edge of the Earthshakers. For a moment, Lina could see Thorin again. His daughter's hair was dark, as his had been. She had his deep blue eyes and proud nose. Ira had her father's skill with a sword as well as his pride.
"She looks so like him."
"Thorin would be proud of the daughter you raised, Lina. She commands her own army, and is one of the best fighters I've seen."
"I hope so," Lina answered softly. Her fingers played with the clear stone ring that still resided on her hand.
"I know it. Though Balin may have been closer to Thorin than I, I still saw what he valued. Ira has courage, honor, and loyalty. He would love her as much as you do."
Lina brushed her hand over her cheek, knocking away the warm wetness gathering at the corners of her eyes.
"I gave her my mark."
Dwalin started, his eyes widening at what such a statement meant. Marks were passed down to elder children when their parents died, passing on the family line to the next generation.
"You are not so old, Lina."
"I will not outlive another of our Kings. I have seen four buried along with three of their heirs, I will not see another. Even should I survive the battle, I have no desire to remain among our people any longer. I wish to visit Rivendell and our old burglar one last time."
Her voice broke, "I can see him in my dreams, Dwalin. The Veil is thinning for me. I can feel it. How much time is left to me, I do not know, but I will not leave Ira's fate to chance. She has made a name for herself and for our people. I must ensure that is not all in vain."
Shortly before the journey to Erebor began, the commander of Lina's forces retired, citing old age. His choice of replacement fell on Ira. The young dwarf was a better tactician than any, her leadership skills rivalling her father's, and her determination matched her mother's. Lina would not see her daughter's legacy fall apart for lack of a mark.
The drums began before Dwalin could reply, summoning the warriors to their formations.
"Good-bye, Old Friend," Lina said, extending her hand.
Dwalin's eyes shone suspiciously as he clasped it tightly.
"Until we meet again."
Nes, Kitta, and Ira waited at the bottom of the stairs for Lina to descend. Ira was to lead her troops into battle first, forming the vanguard of the armies. Nes and Lina would hold back slightly, defending their King.
"I am with you, My Lady," Nes murmured, bowing slightly. The years had not been kind to her, her human blood aging her far faster than her dwarven comrades. Her weariness and age stood out even more in her sorrow over the recent death of her brother. Like Lina, she knew this battle was to be her last.
"My Lady." Kitta bowed next. Unlike Nes and Ira, she would not be joining Lina in battle. Thorin III gave orders to keep her safe that she might record the events of the day.
"Mother." Ira, too, bowed before Lina. A light sheen of sweat on the younger female's brow as her battle fervor grew. She swore, swiping at the healing wound across her face. Kitta's face barely twitched at the stream of foul words tumbling from the young warrior's mouth.
"Blast that Easterling!" Ira growled, dapping at the sweat with a cloth. Her dark mane of hair trembled as she shook her head in painful annoyance. Other battles had resulted in wounds, but this one was by far the most irritating. An Easterling's sword narrowly missed taking out her left eye, but shattered her nose and cut open her cheek.
Ira regained her composure as the sting subsided. Her blue eyes flicked to Lina. A slight smile, mysterious to the younger dwarf, formed on her mother's lips.
A horn sounded, signaling the beginning of the bombardment. Trebuchets upon the face of the mountain flung massive boulders at the Easterling lines, softening them up for the charge to come. The rattling of the mountain and clattering of broken stones signaled the enemy's response.
Ira saluted her mother, and strode off to lead her troops into battle. Kitta took her place on the walls, sheltered from the fighting as much as possible.
Nes stood at Lina's side when they joined Thorin III, to serve as part of his bodyguard. The King greeted her as he would an old friend before returning to the last adjustments of his armor.
A final horn blast echoed through the halls of Erebor. With a loud grinding sound, the gates of the citadel opened, and the dwarves poured forth to break the Easterling siege. For the last time, the flaming head of Lina's warhammer was visible laying waste to the enemy. Such a sight would never be seen again.