Comes Around Again (Gigolas & Bagginshield)

Ravenhill

"We have shared tighter accommodations," Gimli said. "And your horse, as strong as he is, will not have the ease of the climb the way this beauteous beast will." He held out his hand. "Trust me, my love."

"Always," Legolas said, without hesitation, and leapt from the back of the horse, sending her away with a whispered word. Taking Gimli's proffered hand, he folded himself into the ram in the pillion seat. His long legs were folded tightly, and Legolas's knees came up to around Gimli's chest. Gimli pressed his lips together and did his best not to laugh.

"I can feel you mirth, meleth-nin, Legolas said. "Is this payback for the barrels?"

"I would never be so petty," Gimli said, and urged the Ram on with a flick of the reigns. Legolas's grip tightened around Gimli's waist, and Gimli knew he was grinning as the Ram lead them across the river and up the path to Ravenhill.

They burst onto the ruins of a small courtyard to find themselves face to face with Thorin and Dwalin. Legolas slid, gratefully and gracefully, from the back of the Ram. Gimli dropped down with more pragmatism, landing with a solid thud.

"Gimli," Thorin said, with surprise. He looked at Legolas. "Thranduillion."

"Legolas," the elf corrected, gently.

Gimli waved his arms. "There'll be time for that later. The Gundabad army is upon us. We need to leave now, or we'll be surrounded."

"We're so close," Dwalin rumbled. "That orc scum is here; I say we push on,"

"No," Thorin said. "Gimli is right. We must leave."

"Finally, someone listens to reason," Gimli said under his breath. Then, louder, "Where are Fíli and Kíli?"

Thorin paled, and in an instant, Gimli knew. "No, no, no," he said, and looked at the spire beyond. "You didn't."

Thorin turned to Dwalin. "Find Fíli and Kíli. Call them back." Dwalin nodded.

"I will go with you," Legolas said. "I'm fast on my feet." Dwalin looked like he would protest, but jerked his head in agreement. They hadn't taken more than a few steps when the drums sounded.

"Oh, no, no, no," Gimli said as he spun, but there was no denying the truth before his eyes. He felt his heart fall into his stomach.

Azog had Fíli.

The pale orc lifted him up off the ground with ease, even as Fíli kicked and struggled. Still, he was held fast.

The world around Gimli fell away; he was aware, dimly, of Kíli's cried for his brother. He knew Legolas had his bow notched and ready to fire. He knew Azog was taunting Thorin, playing with him before he killed—

Before he killed Fíli.

Gimli had failed. Somehow, all the horrors of before were coming to pass again. He couldn't stop Thorin's fall. He couldn't stop the battle. He couldn't stop the death of his kin. His vision started to white at the edges as the wind whipped around them.

The spell was broken with the sound of an arrow whistling through the air. Azog's taunts were cut off mid-word in a sickening gurgle as an arrow embedded itself in his nethers. Fíli fell, dropped, from the edge of the ledge, as Agog staggered backwards.

"Fíli!" Kíli cried, and Fíli screamed in pain, but Gimli could hear him swearing. He would live. Fíli would live.

Gimli turned to thank Legolas for doing what he could not, but the elf was not looking at him. His bow was still notched, arrow unfired, and eyes looked South. Gimli followed his gaze and saw the Lady Dís astride her Ram, bow still in hand and Bilbo white-faced behind her.