A/N: A chapter in Thorin's Point of View because we needed a little change, and an answer to the question we've all been asking - What happened between Thorin and Endarin? This chapter takes place right after Endarin has taken Fili so be prepared for a flashback.
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I could only stare as I watched Fili, my heir, disappear from sight. "No!" Kili was shouting for his brother. "No! Fili!" Bilbo was blinking in shock. He looked dumbfounded. I must look the same way, I realised. My mind was working sluggishly. How was Fili just... gone? I had fought beside him minutes ago.
I pictured the person who had taken Fili. That person had been a girl! She had been very elf-like, and very familiar. I knew I had seen her more then twice. It was very hard to think as the rest of the Company came rushing up and shouting with disbelief and anger. Dwalin was beside me, balling one hand into a fist and patting me on the back reassuringly with the other.
"We must keep moving." I finally told the Company. "We must reach the mountain."
Kili looked at me like I was mad. "What? We must go and rescue Fili."
Deep down in my heart I wanted to as well but we had to reach the Mountain. "No." I responded gruffly and many of the Company (Bilbo included) gasped in shock. "We continue to Erebor."
Gandalf, who'd appeared a few minutes ago - turning the trolls to stone, bowed his head. "Thorin is right." He told the rest. "That rider was on the back of a warg. That means she is some Orcs side. If we try to follow her we will wander into an Orc pack."
"Come on." Dwalin told Kili, as gently as a battle-hardened warrior could. "We will rescue Fili soon." Kili growled and I saw him look at me angrily out of the corner of my eye. I wish he would understand, I could not abandon the quest to reclaim my homeland now. I had waited far too long.
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We'd arrived at Rivendell. Elrond had read the map, it had stated that we must reach Erebor before the sun set on Durins Day. That gave us little time. I sighed and looked out at the night sky. It was dotted with stars. I wondered if my father was up there.
As a younger, child dwarf I had been taught that all the great Kings went up to the stars and watched over Middle Earth.
"One day," my father had said to me, "I will be up there, looking over you."
My father Thrain. The mysterious elleth. There was a connection. I suddenly knew where I'd seen her. I sat bolt upright, cursing in Dwarvish. That woman...
[Flashback]
I kicked an Orc away with disgust and pulled my sword out of his gut. This was madness. We'd come for refuge and found ourselves in a battle. All around me, my kinsmen were being slain - this was a massacre. Hefting my sword, I continued to fight. We would need every warrior we could get if we were to survive. Dwalin, my friend of many years, fought beside me. Although both our clothes were stained with blood, there was no question of stopping. My thoughts were interrupted by a roar, a roar of triumph and malice that was able to be head over the battle cries and shouts of anguish. My gaze swept to the noise. What a sight awaited me.
The Pale Orc, holding up my Grandfathers head. Thror, King Under The Mountain, had been slain. The White Orc let it go and it rolled away. My horrified eyes followed it before it disappeared all together in the mass of bodies that lay strewn on the rock.
"No!" It took me a moment to realise that the yell of distraught and fury came from me. I started to run towards Azog but my father got there first. He pulled out his battle- hammer and smashed it into the Pale Orc. The Orc stumbled back, but seemed only slightly hurt. It would take more to defeat such a monster. Fear for my father's life clouded my mind and I started to run faster to help Thrain.
The Pale Orc deflected Thrain's next blow with his mace and caught my father full on when he striked next.Thrain's hammer was knocked out of his hand. He was struggling to reach it, fingers stretched out to try and grasp the handle. The White Orc laughed and stomped down on his hand, bringing out a jagged edged dagger. Before I knew what was happening, he held it down on Thrain's hand and sawed one of his fingers off. It stopped me dead to hear the yell of pain from my father, who I'd once reckoned fearless.
I ran towards the Pale Orc to avenge and protect my kin, but someone stopped me. His sword clashed into mine, keeping it in the air. I had enough time to feel surprised and get a good look at my enemies face. He was an elf, no doubt about that. The pointed ears and tall, slender frame told me that much. Why he was here I didn't know, but I knew that he wasn't on my side.
His skin was pale, but not deathly white. He had long, flowing ashy blonde hair which reached his shoulders. His eyes, a glacial blue. Cunning and intelligence showed in them. That... and danger. The pattern on the hilt of his sword, leaves and thorns, told me what I had already suspected. He was a Mirkwood elf. My hatred for this elf grew stronger. Mirkwood had abandoned my people when we'd needed them. I considered for a moment, if the Mirkwood Elves was fighting in support of the Orc's but quickly dismissed the idea. This elf must be a rogue Mirkwood elf, one who'd abandoned his people and decided to fight for the Orc's cause.
I wrenched my sword free and stabbed at him. The elf dodged, keen to not be speared by the sharp point. I stabbed again, but he obviously wasn't planning on dying. Well neither was I. The elf attacked now, his long blade slicing through the skin on my left arm. I faltered but didn't fall. He struck out again, his sword cutting across my face leaving a clean gash. I fell to my knees, pretending to be defeated. I had a trick up my sleeve.
The elf obviously thought he had won. A smirk came onto his face. He raised his sword over his head, aiming for my heart. The sword seemed to come down in slow motion, coming down in an arc. This was my chance. I yelled and stuck up my sword. As the elf stabbed downwards, my sword skewered his body - the point driving through his stomach and coming out of his back. The elf's eyes flashed angrily before they went dull... forever.
I left the elf there, dying on the entranceway to Moria. I had a bigger battle to fight. The Pale Orc was mine to slay at the moment. I stepped over the body and raced towards the towering, scarred Orc.
I had my own with the the Pale Orc, finally chopping off some of his arm. He roared with pain and I stepped back - satisfied. "Dwarves!" I yelled to my somewhat more resilient comrades. "Go back home!" And I rushed into the heat of battle, a sword in one hand, my oaken shield branch in the other.
Just as the Orcs started milling back into Moria I saw a woman. Curiosity, that was what I felt. A woman? In battle? She flashed me a smirk and I wondered what she was doing. Then she grabbed my father and dragged him into the mines. I watched helplessly. I wouldn't be able to get to Thrain... I wouldn't be able to help him.
I had won my battle with the Pale Orc but the battle for the revenge of my father would never be over until I saw that woman dead! She would die by my hand! And I would make sure if that.
[End of Flashback]
She was the elleth who had taken Fili. She was the same one! I would recognise those sharp brown eyes and that malicious smile anywhere.
I may not know where else I had seen her but I knew one thing now. She was the one who had taken my father.
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A/N: So in this chapter, we were introduced to a new (dead) character! The mysterious elf who Thorin slew before he defeated the Pale Orc. Do you have a guess who he was? Huge Hint: Endarin said she lost someone to Thorin's hand.
Anyway, we also learn the reason why Thorin hates Endarin so much. She was the one who took his father. Hope you are still enjoying.
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