LOST IN MIST

The frosty air bit into the wounds on Jeanne's face as she ran, pumping her legs and desperately trying to navigate the frozen terrine searching for Thorin. She could still hear his shrill voice as it pierced the air and shattered her heart.

"THORIN!" Jeanne shouted in a panic but heard no one call her back. It felt like she was inside an echo chamber, chasing her own voice around in circles. "Thorin…" she shakily said.

Jeanne kept running through the frosted air when an icy thought chilled her to the very bone. It made her come to a screeching halt, her feet sliding across the frozen lake.

Jeanne let out a sharp breath and didn't move a muscle. She glanced at her surroundings as coldness invaded her bloodstream. It was like she had been here once before in a distant dream. A cold dream that felt more like a vision. She recognized the fear in the air and the twitching of her muscles. Jeanne knew… this scene.

Jeanne snapped her head left and right and held her arms close to her chest. Her heart throbbed and beat like mad, drowning in her anxious anticipation for what was to come.

And she waited…

As she expected, Jeanne began to hear footsteps within the fog as her eyes scanned around. She braced herself, stepping back as a shadowy mass suddenly rushed from the white mist.

Azog's hulking body loomed over her as his heinous growl made the ice below her quiver. As he swung his mace down at her, a hand swiftly grabbed Jeanne and yanked her aside. Air left her lungs as she was brought up against a familiar body with strong arms wrapped around her.

"Thorin…!" Jeanne cried out once she recognized him.

Thorin shoved her behind him as his blade made contact with Azog's. The sound of metal scraping against one another made Jeanne cringe. She kept a step or two behind them as Azog struggled to gain the upper hand on Thorin, putting his whole weight into his swing as Thorin redirected each strike.

Jeanne let out a small shrike with every hard clash. Her eyes closed tight as she took another step back. Fear was swift, though, and she abruptly felt rough arms wrap around her neck from behind. She cried out and fought against Bolg, who had managed to grab ahold of her and pull her close to the edge of the frozen lake.

"Thorin!" Jeanne screams.

Thorin flinched and looked behind him, but only briefly before he turned back around and redirected one of Azog's attacks. "Jeanne!"

Jeanne struggled against Bolg as they danced closer to the edge. The palm of her skin burned white hot, and she pressed it against his face. He screeched from pain and dug his nails into her delicate skin.

"Jeanne!" Thorin pushed Azog's blade away and turned around, running over to them.

Bolg held onto Jeanne's body as they began to tip backward off the edge. Jeanne's arm flew out to grab Thorin's, but their fingers only grazed one another's before she tumbled off the side and down the cliff.

"Jeanne!" Thorin looked over the edge and saw Jeanne and Bolg crash and tumble over the rocks before landing on a thin edge. He stood frozen for a moment but quickly turned his attention around as orcs surrounded and charged at him.


Jeanne uttered a small cry as her back smashed against the hard stone. The air left her lungs as she stared up at the clouded sky as heated panic filled every sensation. Jeanne didin't move for a second, not even when Bolg stood and loomed over her, his large head blocking the sky.

He raised his weapon above his head, but a sudden low rumble made him freeze before he could swing it down. Bolg and Jeanne looked to the side, and across the trench was a tower starting to tremble. Bricks crumbled off, and the whole structure began to fall. Once it came crashing down, it wedged itself between the two sides like a bridge, standing across it on the other side of a familiar face.

Jeanne felt like she could cry with relief. "Legolas."

Legolas stalked forward across the crumbling bridge as Bolg lost intrest in Jeanne. They lunged at each other in a fury of swordsmanship. Bolgs's crude-looking mace was destructive as he struck down against the stone, causing more pieces to break off and fall into the abysss bellow. The bridge came less stable by the second, but that didn't deture Legolas. The elf was light on his feet and avoided Bolg's attack with ease and grace.

Jeanne rolled over on her stomach and slowly, painfully picked herself back up. She held her breath and ran at Bolg, leaping onto his back and pressing her white-hot touch to the front of his face. A dreadful scream ripped from his throat as Legolas stood back, staring on with wide eyes.

In his wild attempt to free himself, he grabbed the front of Jeanne's cloak and yanked her off. Before he could fling her off the side, her legs came up and kicked against his chest. He winched in pain and dropped Jeanne hard on the tower, causing more stones to break away. Legolas acted fast and pulled Jeanne away from the enraged orc. His unhinged growl made the woman shiver as her eyes widen with fright. As the orc matched forward, a body was suddenly thrown down from the top of the frozen lake. It struck the tower, and the floor Bolg was standing on crumbled. He fell into the building and was immediately buried in piles of stones.

Jeanne finally took a deep breath and looked up. She saw Thorin staring down at her from the top of the frozen river, relieved. It only lasted for a short time when an orc figure loomed over him. Suddenly, a familiar sword was thrown from below and penetrated the orc's chest before he could react. As the orc's body began to collapse, Thorin reached out and grabbed the sword, pulling it from the body and staring at the beautiful blade.

Thorin knew the sword well. He had found it first in a troll cave, and then later lost it in the Woodland Realms.

Jeanne gasped sharply and looked over at Legolas, now weaponless. Neither had time to say anything when Legolas suddenly pulled Jeanne out of the way as Bolg emerged from the rubble, more enraged than before.

As if on instinct, Jeanne swiftly grabbed one of Legolas's long-elven daggers and swung it with all her strength. Bolg's head was pierced from the jaw up by the blade, which sank straight into his brain. His body spasmed for a moment before going limp. As she stared into Bolg's glazed eyes, Jeanne's body went cold with shock. She yanked the dagger out and shakily dropped it to the ground.

Jeanne's body quivered as she looked back at the top of the frozen river, a single name spilling from her lips with fear written all over her face. "Thorin."

As Legolas reached down to pick up his dagger, he hardly had time to call out to Jeanne as she ran off back to Thorin. Yet, even if he did, he knew she wouldn't hear him. Her mind was on one thing and one thing alone. To return to the Thorin's side.