Chapter 9

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Beuren blocked a hammer with her sword, turning and stabbing the orc in the throat with one of her several knives. Thorin knocked a sword from the hand of an orc about to behead the elven lass. They stood back to back turning circles as they fought off orcs. The young prince was about to get his throat slit, he bent backwards, forcing Beuren to the ground. She rolled out of the way as he fell. They looked at each other, then sprang to their feet, each blocking a weapon that was about to hit the other.

A larger orc ran at them, hitting Thorin with a large mace, it knocked him back several feet, again he was on his back. Dwalin saw this, hurrying as fast as he could to the prince’s aid.  He picked up a flail that an orc had dropped then started swinging. Just as he did, Thorin started to stand. His shield maiden companion  dove forward, knocking him back to the ground, narrowly escaping the spiked sphere at the end of the flail. Dwalin let loose the weapon, taking out an orc or two.

Beuren sighed and looked down at Thorin. When she had tackled him, she had landed on top of him. She picked her head up off his chest to see him smirking. Confused she glared back.

“I thought you went for drinks before this stage.” She punched his shoulder and sprang to her feet, slicing a small orc in half at the waist. He laughed and hustled to his feet. They were again back to back, fending orcs off with every swing of their weapons.

“We need to get inside that mountain!” Beuren called behind him.

“I can see the entrance, look over my left shoulder.” She peered over his shoulder, seeing the entrance. “This is folly, we should wait.”

“They need our help Thorin, we haven’t time to spare. COME!” She bounded towards the mountain. Her blade feverishly slashing and hacking, Beuren led them into the mountain.

Once inside, they noticed how unusually quiet it was for having a battle raging on the other side of the thick stone walls. There was no light, save that of the moon streaming through the doorway. Thorin looked at her motioning to his back, she took the hint and sheathed her sword, taking her bow in hand and stringing it. They walked as quiet as they could. With her silent foot fall, Thorin became conscience of how heavy his steps were and how loud they echoed. Their breathing was nearly silent, both forgetting several times to actually breath.

They explored for what seemed like hours, finally coming to a group of large windows that had been cut into the stone. The windows allowed you to see from the corridor down into the feasting hall. There were long red velvet drapes that had been hung around the windows rather than in front, allowing for the view. The only reason that they noticed the room was the light streaming through the openings in the wall. They approached slowly, cautiously. When they looked down they saw at least another hundred orcs gathered. They were talking and screeching, yelling and fighting, this would be fun.

“We should go get Dwalin and Balin at least, don’t want to steal all the fun.” Beuren joked.

“They have other matters to attend to.” Thorin said, drawing back the serious nature of the situation. “What is the plan?”

“I say we just get in the middle of them all and start slicing. I’ll distract them while you use the curtain to get down then meet me in the middle.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Thorin doubted she had actually meant that. But judging by the look on her face, she was serious.

“I’ll jump.” He looked down, estimating the distance then back at her. “C’mon, we can take them!”

“It’s a long way.” He said, looking back at her. She looked, then with a defeated expression she mumbled

“Toss me.”

“What?” Thorin was sure he’d misheard her.

“I cannot jump the distance; you’ll have to toss me.” She snapped crossly. He took the back of her belt and armor in hand. She braced herself, and then stopped him.

“Don’t tell the brothers.”

“Not a word.” Thorin promised. With that he lifted her up and tossed her, she landed in the exact middle, using a shield to keep herself safe from the upward facing spears and swords. He scaled the wall quickly, fighting his way to the middle, where she already stood on a small mound of dead orcs. He started chopping, swinging his axe with all his might.

A wicked scream rang out, he looked back and saw Beuren, a knife sticking out of her calf. Rolling her eyes, she pulled it out, slicing the throat of the orc who stabbed her. Limping she got up, Thorin pulled her arm over his shoulder and helped her run. They drew the orcs out into the corridor outside, running up the stairs towards the entrance. There was only about sixty or so left, but that was enough to cause someone to make haste. She wasn’t able to walk as well as he’d hoped.

“We can take them, I got your back.” She said, then taking his hand added “I promise.” He nodded. Looking over his shoulder at the stairs the orcs were coming up. “I can stand good enough to shoot.” She said, positioning herself behind him, leaning against the wall.

“Here they come.” Thorin said. She took aim, the first one to round the corner was small, easily killed, she waited to shoot the bigger ones, give him a bit of a break. If they got to close, they were either axed or shot. One somehow slipped passed both of them, attacking Beuren. She fought it off good, until it tripped her and got her onto her back. It straddled her, hands tightening around her throat. Thorin was suddenly met with an onslaught of orcs, too many for him alone to get, he looked and saw Beuren, the slight blue that crept to her lips. Fighting hard, he still struggled to get to her. She finally was able to get the orc off, stabbing him about seventeen times, slight over kill. Coughing violently she rolled off of the orc and grabbed her bow.

From the ground she started shooting at every orc she saw, they were close enough that an arrow would hit one, go all the way through and hit one or two more if she was lucky. One orc grabbed at her, she put her foot in the middle of its chest, Thorin beheaded it and grabbed her ankle, dragging her down the hall. While being dragged by her foot, she started shooting the orcs that followed, which was only about forty now… well, thirty eight.

“Five. Six. Seven, eight. Three is eleven!”

“Are you counting?!”

“Fifteen. Hurry up!”

“You aren’t as light as you look!”

“Hurry or you’ll be sixteen!” He ran faster. Once at the end of the hall he dropped her foot, and turned, launching into battle, the size of the group measurably decreased. He finished off a few and then started back towards Beuren. He picked her up wedding style. “You forgot my ring did you now?” She said firing over his shoulder. He shook his head running forward and down a set of stairs. Once they got down the stairs he put her down, she limped beside him as he supported her. Only several orcs were after them now. They saw the entrance, a few shapes ducked in, more orcs, an axe flew towards them. They hit the floor, Thorin covering her small body with his. A few battle cries were heard then the sound of yelling and skin ripping. When they looked up next, Dwalin was breathing heavily, Balin at his side.

“We had them!”

“From the floor?”

“You startled us.” She retorted. “Thanks for taking out the last ten, wish you would have helped with the first ninety.”

“You over exaggerate.” Dwalin doubted.

“No, really, she doesn’t.” Thorin said, helping her to her feet and taking her arm around his shoulders. “How is it raging out there?”

“Done. We’ve been looking for you two.” Balin explained. Beuren laughed.

“And you did a great job at that!” Balin glared.

“She took one to the leg, she can’t walk.  Will someone get her other side?” Thorin said, trying to ease the tension between Balin and Beuren. Blood ran with a steady flow down her leg, over her boots, staining the fur around the tops. Dwalin grabbed her other arm, helping her stand to her full height. They led the way out of the mountain. The Dwarves from the East wing had exited, thanking all of the warriors from Erebor. 

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