Thorin Oakenshield Imagine: Healer.

Thorin Imagine: Healer. Part Twenty

The battle was still raging and fierce. Many had lost their lives during the short hours since the war had began, bodies lay littering the landscape for miles around  and yet the fighting still continued. Screams could be heard over the harsh sound of crashing metal and shouts of the dwarfish tongue echoed around the yells of men and elves. Good seemed to have the upper hand in the conflict, but at such a heavy cost.

(Y/N) had made it up to the gates of Erebor and looked out upon the scene, horrified. Ori gently walked up behind her, gasping in terror as he grabbed for her hand. The pair of them needed some comfort and stood in silence for a few fleeting moments, grieving the dead.

"Good Mahal." The small dwarf sighed, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. He looked devastated and had freely let the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I need to find Thorin." (Y/N) suddenly whispered, drawing herself out of her despair and ripping herself away from Ori as she ran out into the fight. "Go and find your brothers."

(Y/N) had no time to try and hide who or what she was now. She let her heightened powers flow straight through her fingertips, using wild spells to wipe out any orc that she could see. Her long hair moved around her shoulders like serpents crawling through grass and anyone who looked at her seemed to back away for a second, unsure of what force surrounded the beautiful mage. She spotted Kili further ahead and ran to him, calling his name out as loud as she could. He turned and yelled out a curse at the top of his voice, his attention momentarily diverted.

"(Y/N)! You should not be out here, return inside! Now!" He shouted to her with a degree of authority, turning away as several orcs surrounded him. She ran to his side and shot the beasts off one by one, blasting spells of bright light as the leathery flesh of the orcs began to pop and sizzle. Her body flowed with such ease and the young dwarf could see that she seemed more than capable of handling herself. Kili glanced to her, amazed.

"You really need to go back. Uncle will not like this one bit!" The dwarf spoke gingerly and winced, his arm having been injured and bleeding through into his shirt. She gathered his muscles into her hands, pulling the cotton of his tunic above his elbow and whispered into the wound. It disappeared within an instant and Kili hugged her tightly in appreciation.

Suddenly a large dwarf with huge, bold shoulders came bounding up to them, a long strawberry-blonde mop of hair protruding from his ornate steel helmet. "Kili, Thorin says you are to go with him. He is going to head for Ravenhill, he wants to kill that wretched Azog!" Dain boomed, not noticing (Y/N) as she hide behind the young son of Durin.

"Is he mad?? Has he gone insane?!" The young prince exclaimed in reply, following the large dwarf who was now leading him to the king.

"You know he will not listen, not once he has an idea in his head." Dain called behind him with a smirk. "Not that I am going to argue with him."

(Y/N) followed them, silent as a mouse, so much so that she seemed to be almost gliding across the dirt and not a soul noticed. A small throng of the company were stood in a huddle underneath an opening of rock east of the entrance to Erebor, discussing how to reach such a height of the hill without coming to any harm.

"Kili-" Thorin rumbled as his nephew approached him, registering the look of shock on the young dwarfs face. "-I take it Dain has told you our plan..."