COWARDICE
Swords and hammers clashed against each other, and pieces of rock and metal were flung into the air. Thorin fought with wild ferocity as his eyes scanned the battlefield, searching until he spotted Dain not far off.
"Dain!" Thorin called out.
"Thorin! Hold on! I'm coming," Dain answered back, swinging his hammer around wildly, making contact with every orc that got near him. "Hey, cousin!" he laughed while approaching. "What took you so long?"
Thorin laughed and embraced his cousin in a tight hug.
"There's to many of these buggers, Thorin. I hope you got a plan."
Thorin's eyes travel up to the Ravenhill watch tower he knew Azog was at, along with Jeanne. "Aye. We're going to take out their leader."
"Azog…"
Thorin caught the reins of an armored mountain goat that trotted by. He leaped onto its back and held on tightly. "I'm going to kill that piece of filth."
"Thorin, you cannot do this. You are our king." Dain pleaded with him.
At that moment, Jeanne's face flashed into his head. The golden illusion and the crushed expression she last gave him. "It is why I must do it."
"And how do you plan to fight your way singlehanded to Ravenhill?"
As those words were spoken, they heard a voice coming from behind. Dain and Thorin got out of the way when an armored wagon road up beside them. It was pulled by mountain goats with Thorin's original company in the back.
"It's been a while since I've done this," Balin said, holding the reins of the wagon. He looked over to Thorin and nodded his head, signaling to him that they were ready to follow him. Anywhere and everywhere.
Thorin led the charge and road ahead, followed by the armored wagon that mowed the orc army down.
"You're all mad bastards! I like it!" Dain laughed as his smile slowly fell. "May Durin save you all."
Gently and without a breath escaping from her chapped lips, Jeanne crept down the crumbling cobblestone steps of the old Ravenhill ruins. The dilapidated walls were frail but tall enough to conceal her petite body. The cold she once loved was now biting ruthlessly at her delicate skin, and it took all her concentration to keep her teeth from chattering. She didn't dare make a sound now since she no longer knew where Azog was. Which is what terrified her more. It was like he had disappeared into mist within the frosted air, leaving her cold and fearful.
Jeanne wanted to cry. Oh, how she wanted to weep her heart out. In all her life, she had never felt this way before. Alone, cold, fearful, and vulnerable. It was sickening, yet she still didn't cry. She wasn't supposed to cry. She had to remain quiet. As quiet as a mouse.
The sound of unexpected rustling noises made Jeanne freeze instantly. Her fear heightened as she listened in closely.
"Where is that piece of orc filth?" It was a rough voice, filled with disgust at every word. Jeanne knew that voice well. Before the name could even pop into her head, she could already picture the face of a strong dwarf. She could imagine Dwalin.
Jeanne shuffled closer to the edge and peeked her head up. Her heart surged with comfort for the first time in hours. Overwhelming every one of her senses and filling her with warmth yet again. Jeanne stood up fast and accidentally released a devastated breath she had held the whole time.
It wasn't just Dwalin. She saw Thorin, and he heard her too. He heard her sharp intake of breath and immediately snapped his head towards the stairs, catching sight of her beautiful red hair dancing in the cold wind, just like fire. Thorin felt himself light up. His insides and veins burned with a passion as he walked closer to the steps. Not once taking his eyes away from her. Fearing she just might disappear into liquid gold again.
"Jeanne…?" he breathed out, hearing his own voice shake.
Hot tears spilled from her eyes as Jeanne broke out into a run. She hurried down the steps and nearly tripped, falling into Thorin's open arms. He held onto her tightly, though. Desperately. He wanted nothing more than to have her back beside him, and here she was. Frightened but safe. Cold but safe. She was safe, and it was all that mattered to him.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me!" Thorin breathed out, kissing the side of her head as she cried. "Please don't leave like that again. I'm begging you…."
Jeanne couldn't talk, but it didn't stop her from trying. Taking in sharp gasps of air to let him know how much she missed him. How much she wished to have him back. "Thorin…! Thank the gods…! You're back… You came back…!"
Thorin's heart shattered and mended itself back together in an instant. He knew he had hurt her. Scorned her, even. Yet, she was willing to forgive him. To accept his mistakes and embrace him with the utmost…love.
This was love.
Dwalin looked relieved to see Jeanne again. He walked up to her and patted her shoulder, nodding to himself. "At least we have our lady back. Now we just have to find that filth."
"I…I don't know where he is," Jeanne said, lifting her head slightly to look at Dwalin. "I had to run away…and lost sight of him. I know he's still here though. I know he's planning something."
"She's right, Thorin." Everyone turned around at the new voice and saw Bilbo stumbling over to them, out of breath and shaking with adrenaline.
Thorin's eyes lit up to see his old friend again. "Bilbo." He released his hold on Jeanne but kept a firm grip on her hand.
"You have to leave here. Now. Azog has another army attacking from the north. The watch tower will be completely surrounded. There will be no way out," he explained, still trying to catch his breath.
"We are so close." Dwalin hissed. "That orc scum is in there. I say we push on."
Jeanne's glassy eyes widen. "What? No. No, no, no. That's what he wants," she said desperately.
Thorin's grip tightened on Jeanne's hand. "He wanted to draw us in. It's why he took Jeanne. This…this is a trap." His voice got dangerously low as realization spilled over him like ice water. "Find Fili and Kili. Call them back," he said urgently.
"Thorin, are you sure about this?" Dwalin asked.
Thorin placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Do it." He took a quick breath and looked over to Jeanne, who was far from battle ready. "We'll live to fight another day."
Bilbo and Jeanne looked beyond relieved to hear Thorin speak that, but their hope was short-lived when the sound of low drums made the air vibrate. Jeanne looked up to the watch tower across the way, and Thorin followed her gaze.
Azog was there…dragging Fili across the ground.
Thorin released Jeanne's hand, and they jogged over to the edge. They watched helplessly as the pale orc lifted Fili with one hand, speaking in his sickening black tongue.
"This one dies first." He proclaimed. "Then the brother. Then the Fireborn."
Jeanne sucked in a deep breath and felt her blood run cold. Her lips trembled, and she clenched her fist so tightly that she could feel her nails cutting into her skin.
This can't be happening. It just can't be, she thought to herself.
"And then you, Oakenshield. You will die last."
Jeanne's voice came out as a shrill cry. "Nononono!"
Her words fell on deaf ears as Azog rammed his blade straight into Fili. Jeanne's horror-stricken cries drowned out the loud drums as Azog released Fili's body, letting him fall off the cliff. Jeanne crumbled to her knees and looked over the edge but couldn't see anything. Her tears were clouding her vision, and the feeling of hopelessness immediately returned with a vengeance.
It killed her heart…
"Here ends your filthy bloodline!"
Jeanne could've cried a million tears at that moment. Enough to fill an ocean. Her grief was like a sword straight into her heart. A cold sword made entirely of ice…just like how her dream felt. Oh, how terrible. If she could trade, she would've rather watched that cold dream where she died.
"Kili!" Thorin's voice was like a crack of thunder.
Jeanne lifted her head when Thorin suddenly broke out into a sprint, heading toward the watch tower.
"Thorin, no!" Jeanne let out a terrified cry as he ran off. She stood fast to her feet and bit through the paint to chase after him.
"Thorin, Jeanne!" Dwalin shouted after as everyone scattered into the cold winds, willingly and knowingly running straight into Azog's trap.
