1 | dark pasts [oakenshield]

Forty-two

fricken gif man

Thorin and Dwalin paced around the dead bodies of the Goblins, panicked to say the least. As if having Anne and his nephews run off wasn't bad enough, now he had to wait for them to return.

"Where is that Orc flith?" Dwalin snarled.

Thorin didn't know, and he just kept staring at the other structure from afar.

"Thorin."

He spun around, grinning. "Bilbo," he breathed in relief.

The Hobbit looked worn out and out of breath as he stood on Thorin's right, Dwalin behind the Hobbit. "You have to leave this place," he wheezed and pointed behind him. "Azog has another army coming from the north. This watchtower will be completely surrounded, and there will be no way out."

"We're so close," Dwalin said, approaching Thorin. "That Orc scum is in there. I say we push on."

"No, no," Thorin said, pushing his friend back. "That's what he wants. He wants to draw us in." Thorin paled and gulped, staring at Dwalin who was also paling slightly. His voice became low and soft. "This was a trap."

Thorin and Dwalin looked at the other side, and Thorin shook his head fast. His nephews as well as the one person he ever loved was in the other tower.

Go, and come back alive.

"Find Fili and Kili, as well as Anne. Call them back."

Dwalin started to walk off, but he looked behind him. "Thorin, are you sure about this?"

"Do it," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder before looking to the other watchtower again. "We live to fight another day."

Thorin and Bilbo glanced at each other, the Hobbit nodding as he followed Thorin to leave. Yet that was before Thorin looked over his shoulder when a loud drumbeat filled the air. He frowned, fully turning around. He strained an ear to listen as orange lit up the other side and laughter was heard, and Thorin could've sworn that he heard a cry of pain. His eyes narrowed as a silhouette from afar, and Thorin slowly walked forwards to get a better look. His eyes widened in horror when he saw Azog dragging Anne by the neck, blood running down the side of her face. Thorin gasped and ran to the edge, watching as Azog held Anne by the neck and over the cliff on the other side. Angry tears sprang in Thorin's eyes, the screams of his nephews muffled to his ears.

Not her. Not my Anne.

"This one dies first," Azog said. "Then the brothers. Then I will kill you, Oakenshield. You will die last."

Anne seemed scared and she wriggled around. "Go!" she yelled, her voice hoarse.

Thorin shook his head shortly, a few tears falling down his face. Something had to happen. She couldn't die.

"RUN!" Anne screamed again just as Azog brought his arm back.

Thorin's breath hitched when Azog brought his sword arm back, but he never anticipated what happened next.

His eye caught Fili stepping out of his hiding spot and whirling a knife in the air, Azog roaring as the blade embedded itself in the hand that was holding Anne, causing him to drop her only to kick her over and scream: "Here ends your filthy bloodline!"

His mind was screaming as Anne fell to her death, screaming loudly and waving her arms around. But he instantly felt relieved when he saw Kili catch her, holding her close before setting her to the floor, where Fili then wrapped his arms around her tightly before he pulled back and shook her shoulders, and the two seemed to be having a mini argument.