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The Dwarves' POV.

We're going to take out their leader." Thorin breathed.

"Azog." Dáin said as he watched his cousin mount a goat in the middle of battle.

"I'm going to kill that piece of filth." He sneered.

"Thorin, you cannot do this." Dáin said, approaching him. "You're our king!"

"That is why I must do it."

"And how do you plan to fight your way single-handedly to Ravenhill?" Ravenhill was the name of the cliff where Azog had set up their flag. It stood high above the ground, and there were reinforcements surrounding it.

Suddenly a vehicle pulled by goats burst in the middle of the two cousins. In the cart were Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and Balin. "It's been a long time since I've done this." Balin said.

Thorin grinned. "To Ravenhill!" He shouted.

"Hold tight." Balin muttered. And then they were off.

___

Meanwhile, in Dale the elves were fighting their own battle. Half of the goblin army had poured into the streets, where Cyrille, the men and elves fought.

No one paid the slightest attention to the two elves riding on a white mare, except when they were called by name. "Gandalf!" Legolas shouted.

"Legolas." The wizard said.

"Legolas!" Cyrille said as well, she was fighting near Gandalf and Bilbo.

"There is a second army." Legals said hurriedly, dismounting hi shores, followed by Tauriel. Cyrille hugged the orange-haired elleth. "Bolg leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us."

"Gundabad?" Cyrille asked, letting go of Tauriel.

"Yes." Gandalf huffed. "This was their plan all along. Ortharc engages our forces then Blog swoops in from the north."

"The north?" Bilbo suddenly burst in. "Where is the north, exactly?"

"Ravenhill." Gandalf answered, looking to the cliff, where the huge flag was planted.

"Ravenhill. Thorin is up there." Bilbo realised.

"That means Fili and Kili are up there as well! They're all up there!" Cyrille said. Tauriel's expression turned worried.

"We have to warn them." Tauriel said.

"I know who can do that." Cyrille answered.

___

Cyrille pushed through the throng of men, trying to get to where the Elvenking stood, staring at the fallen bodies of his people. 

"Thranduil!" She said. "I mean—my Lord. Dispatch this force to Ravenhill. The dwarves are about to be overrun. Thorin must be warned.

Thranduil looked at her coldly. "Then by all means warn him. I've spent enough elvish blood in this accursed land." He walked past her. "No more."

"Thranduil!" She said. He didn't listen. Stubborn kings and their stupid decisions. Didn't he care for the lives of others? Of course not. He cared only for himself, and his kingdom. No love in him, remember? That's what she had said to him before, though she didn't really mean it. Now she knew it was true.

"I'll go." Came a voice. Cyrille turned and saw Bilbo.

"You?"

"Yes, Cyrille. I can do it."

Cyrille had learned to trust him with his word. But agreeing to this would put her dearest friend's life at stake. How would she feel if he died, if his bright soul was no more?

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