Sure, she's lost her mind last chapter, but she's okay now, guys!
Tw: Battle, mentions of violence through weapons, decapitation, Raewyn being a badass, Thorin battling dragon sickness, Bilbo and Raewyn part ways. Feels (IT'S BEEN TEN MONTHS OKAY I AM SORRY)
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The mad king had proclaimed war. The end was nigh, all could feel it, but the king proclaimed war. Raewyn did not dare spare Thorin one look, scared she'd climb back up the moment she did. As the ranger neared her other friends, the ground began to shake catching the armies off guard. Looking up the hills, the crowds spotted tiny dots running down the mountains. Heavily armoured dwarves tumbled down in loud uproar, led by a single dwarf riding a pig, clad in equally heavy armour.
"Ironfoot," Gandalf uttered, looking down at his two friends as they observed the commotion. Cheering erupted from Erebor as the dwarves watched their kin run to their aid. From the sidelines, Thranduil commanded his army to hold their shields up, a command they swiftly obeyed. Then, the elven king rode through his army whilst they took off from the gates of Erebor. It wasn't until Gandalf began to walk as well, that Bilbo and Raewyn caught up.
"Who is that?" The hobbit asked no one in particular. "He doesn't look very happy."
"It is Dain, lord of the Iron Hills," Gandalf explained, to which Raewyn's face shot white. Yes, now she recognized him. "Thorin's cousin." She continued for Bilbo, even though her speech was closer to a question asked to the wizard. He said nothing in return, affirming her suspicions.
"Are they alike?" "I always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two." The wizard revealed. Looking up at him, the ranger rolled her eyes, exhaling deeply. "Oh, joy."
"Good morning!" A voice called, suddenly closer than anticipated. Gandalf urged himself through the crowd, the two smaller creatures trailing behind him. "How are we all? I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider...just sodding off!"
People began to move backwards anxiously, while the elves readied themself to engage. Raewyn subconsciously followed their lead, pulling a dagger from her belt, seeing as she abandoned her ax at Erebor.
"All of you! Right now!" In response to the dwarven leader, Bard encouraged his folk. "Stand fest!"
"Come now, lord Dain!" Gandalf spoke, announcing his presence to the said dwarf. Bilbo and Raewyn remained in the crowd as the wizard walked up front, nodding his head in acknowledgement when the dwarf recognized him.
"Gandalf the Grey!" He voiced. "Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!" "There is no need for war between dwarves, men and elves!" Gandalf interrupted sternly. "A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!" But the pleas went unheard. Or heard and ignored. Knowing dwarves, it was likely to be the latter.
"I will not stand down before any elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite!" As he pointed towards the elven king atop his stag, Raewyn nodded her head to the side in mutual agreement, but kept her face blank. "He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!"
With that, he took off again, marching to his armies who halted halfway across the hills. "Dain, wait!" Gandalf called after him, but - yet again - the pleas went ignored. Once more, cheers erupted from the mountain, but they were this time joined by Dain's army. Passing through the crowd, Thranduil moved forward, staring the dwarf down who disappeared in the distance. His head slowly turned to Bard, addressing him specifically. "Let them advance. See how far they get."
"You think I give a dead dog for your friends, you pointy-eared princess?" Dain continued taunting as he finally joined his army. "He's clearly mad, like his cousin." Thranduil continued.
"You hear that, lads?" Dain responded, chuckling lightly at the spoken words. "Let's give these bastards a good hammering!"
"Stand your men down. I'll deal with Ironfoot and his rabble."
With those words spoken, Bard silently urged his men to stand down, making way for the elven army. Shouts and commands were heard from the dwarves on the other side of the hill, before a second string rumbling filled the earth. Hordes of battle rams battered down the mountains, more heavily clad dwarves atop of them. In response, the elves formed a barricade in front of the rest of the armies. Drawing their bows, they awaited the words of their commander.
"This is madness!" Gandalf protested loudly, yet he took a couple steps back, urging his two companions with him.
Thranduil uttered a shout, causing the soldiers to release their arrows. Rains tumbled down upon the dwarves, before catapults were launched. As they flew, it seemed as if knives twisted at the end of them, cutting the elven arrows in half before landing in the midst of their army, cutting down hundreds of soldiers. Raewyn's eyes widened upon the sight, harshly grasping Bilbo's coat as she began to walk quicker.
She did not witness the second rain, nor the shock on the elven king's face. The only next thing she remembered were the wide eyes from the people around and Gandalf shouting the following words. "Were-worms!"
"Kitum," Raewyn mumbled on her breath. Finally turning around, she saw the huge worm-like creatures emerge from underneath the mountains. Their mouth filled with enormous teeth, sharp enough to cut through the rocks of the earth, making their way to the mountain. Behind them, an army filled with orcs came marching down. Staring at their new companions, the ranger turned back to Bilbo, nodding to his sheathed sword.
"Slash, don't pierce. It'll require more effort if you do."
Confused, the hobbit looked up at his friend, resting his hand on the hilt of the blade. "I don't wish to fight."
"Nor do I," She sighed, forcing an encouraging smile onto her face. "For your sake, but I fear you might have to. Stay with Gandalf."
"What will you do?" Grabbing Raewyn's sleeve, he stopped her steps halfway, forcing her to stay. She looked down at him in remorse, but stopped halfway when she heard the loud roaring of Azog. Her eyes followed the source of the sound, before she found him atop a tower on a hill in the distance.
"Fight," She answered curtly, still looking at the creature towering over all armies. "I will not let the orcs divide more families. Their reign ends here."
The dwarven army began to march towards the new threat of the east, the elves slowly standing down. The difference between both armies was apparent; the dwarves were in the clear minority.
"They won't make it." Bilbo whispered, mostly to himself, though he secretly hoped Raewyn heard it as well. She did. She simply chose to ignore him.
"Our ways part here." She stated, silently cursing herself for leaving her axe at Erebor. She was left with daggers now, and though they were usually efficient, she wouldn't win battles with them. She'd have to steal on from the floor.
"Raewyn-" "We shall meet again, Bilbo," She interrupted, looking back at her friend one last time. "Keep up hope. And don't part from Gandalf. There is nowhere you will be safer."
Then, Bilbo took a bold step forward, before wrapping his arms around the Asha's middle, pulling himself closer. Almost immediately, Raewyn reciprocated the gesture, wrapping her arms around the smaller hobbit, placing a light kiss atop his hair.
"Your armour is really uncomfortable." Bilbo muttered against the iron, but refused to let go yet.
"Kili insisted." She tried to joke, though her face fell lightly upon the mention of his name. Stepping away from him, she gave him a last farewell nod. "Go!"
As Raewyn took off towards the dwarves, who had now formed a protective line in front of the mountain, she dared to risk one last look over her shoulder. But when she did, she almost stopped running. For there, over the other side of the hills, a second army began marching, but not towards the battlefield. They were heading for Laketown at Azog's command.
"Bard!" She shouted over the chants and screaming of the fighting armies. Luckily, the man appeared to be listening immediately, his head turning towards the Asha hidden in the narrowing empty land between the elves and dwarves. "They're heading for the city!"
His head turned around upon the words, looking on in fear as Raewyn's words appeared to ring true.
"Azog - he's trying to cut us off!" Gandalf agreed, having heard the ranger's shout.
Bard took action, turning his horse around, speaking to his army in panic. "All of you, fall back to Dale! Now!"
With the men retreating to defend their home, Raewyn was somewhat relieved to see the elves fight alongside the dwarves. But even then, their numbers were scarce. Too scarce for a fight on this scale. She would have seconded it, was it not for the orc marching straight towards her. Making up her mind immediately, she clutched her dagger tighter. Diving to the floor, she missed the swing of his blade. As she rolled around, she used her dagger to stab his thigh, before kicking the creature to the floor. Grabbing the sword he had dropped, she fiercely swung it down, instantly ridding its body of its head. Though unbalanced and riddled with dirt and blood, the ranger opted to keep the sword now. At least until a lost axe was to arise somewhere.
Wrestling herself through the crowds of orcs and elves, Raewyn finally arrived in the midst of the battle. All around her riders on war pigs and dwarves ran, clearing the enemy before she could even try to reach them. Though their attacks may have been brutal, the strategy was poorly executed, or simply nonexistent. Where one orc fell down, it looked as if two more appeared. As if their army didn't stop growing.
Her eyes fell on a particularly threatening orc, looming over the dwarven lord and his pig without his notice. Thinking quickly, she took the sword in one hand, grabbing her dagger again with the free one. Taking one quick second to calculate her line, she threw the dagger directly into the back of the orc's head. On impact, it collided to the floor, uttering a warcall and a final whail.
At the sound, the dwarf whipped around on his pig, aiming his weapon threateningly at the woman. Yet, when he came to face her, it wasn't an orc - as he had expected. She looked like a dwarf in that armour. But her face gave her away. He did not quite know what to do, but looked at her in disdain, rather than gratitude.
"Who are ye?"
"Raewyn Asha," She answered swiftly, slashing her - or, temporarily her - sword towards an oncoming enemy.
"Asha?" The dwarf repeated, the gears in his head turning. His face morphed from disdain to disgust, now approaching her, the pig snorting angrily.
"You might not like me," She explained, still occupied in her fight. "Thorin might not like me, but I am fighting for your kin."
Silence passed between the pair as Raewyn resumed to fight off the orcs. Dain merely seemed nailed to the floor all of the sudden. He observed her for a short moment, before nodding his head "Aye," He ultimately concluded. "I hope yer father taught ye some tricks."
The Asha only smiled at him, throwing her blade between the shoulder blades of an oncoming contender. The damage wasn't nearly as high as she was used to, for the sword only managed to slice the skin briefly. Huffing in frustration, she tried again. Annoyed, the orc spun around, raising its own knife to end Raewyn. But she was quicker, more skilled. The sword was clearly not made for the slashing she was used to, but it was still heavy enough to dismember a thick-skinned orc. Its arms fell to the ground, quite literally, followed by its head.
"Ye could use an axe, though." Dain called over his shoulder, fighting his own battle.
"That obvious?" The woman tried to joke, slowly forgetting about the ordeal on the mountain. The mind plays wonderful tricks once it's in a life or death situation.
Slowly, but surely, the dwarves were being driven back more with every passing second. Raewyn began to notice it when the amount of dwarves in her area kept shrinking.
"There!" Dain suddenly called, his arm gesturing towards a discarded axe mere feet from him. Slaying the orc in front of her, she took off running towards the weapon, only dropping the blade once the axe was within her reach. It wasn't structured in the way she was used to, but it would have to make do.
In the meantime, Dain had wandered back even more, now also taken notice of the scarce amount of dwarves around them. In his moment of short absence, the pig underneath his body gave out with a squeal, a weapon lodged within its skin.
"You buggars!"
More angered, he began to headbutt his enemies, clearing a path, though it wasn't one forward anymore. Fatigue settled within him, Raewyn could see it. Frustration slowly turned into despair as he looked around the battlefield.
"Where's Thorin?" He roared, bludgeoning many orcs encircled around him. "We need him."
Almost ahead of him, the ranger whistled loudly, not gaining the attention of the creatures around her. She didn't need to. From above her, Farris flew down to her partner, landing on her arm.
Fishing down in her boots, Raewyn pulled out her last dagger, the handle small enough for the owl to hold.
"Sent for the dwarves of Erebor." She whispered, holding her up as Farris took off, now making way for the mountain.
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Erebor had begun to grow silent under the shouts of battle outside. Thorin had locked himself away in the throne room, occupying the large chair, crown atop his head. Outside the halls, his companions looked onto the war brewing. A war their king had initially started. A feeling of dishonour had washed over all of them. All but one.
"Since when do we forsake our own people?" Storming into the throne room, Dwalin shot the king a helpless look. "Thorin, they are dying out there."
"There are halls beneath halls within this mountain - places we can fortify." The king concurred absentmindedly, staring off into the walls. "Shore up, make safe. Yes..."
Looking up, Thorin faced the taller dwarf, standing up from his throne. "Yes - that is it. We must move the gold further underground - to safety!"
With that, the mad king began to walk away, readying himself for moving his treasure somewhere safer. But the notion did not go warranted by Dwalin.
"Did you not hear me?! Dain is surrounded! They're being slaughtered, Thorin."
"Many die in war." Thorin shot back, halting his steps momentarily. "Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend!"
"You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been."
That seemed to tick him off. Angrily, he marched up to his old face, his face set in a dangerous tone. One Dwalin easily recognised as the one Raewyn often received from the same dwarf.
"Do not speak to me as if I was some lowly dwarf lord..." His voice wavered halfway, staring at his hands confused. But then, he spoke up again. "As-As if I were still...Thorin...Oakenshield. I am your king!"
In anger, the dwarf roared, pulling his sword. But his stance was unbalanced, his mind not entirely there, and he nearly fell over, dropping the sword in shock. Dwalin looked on in near sympathy, his shoulder dropping with his words.
"You were always my king. You used to know that once." Bowing his head in sorrow, the dwarf continued. "You cannot see what you have become."
Panting heavily, the king stared at his subject, his chest heaving with every breath. "Go! Get out...before I kill you."
In defeat, the heavier dwarf retreated, leaving Thorin alone with his thoughts. A dangerous move to be made, for him and his mind could no longer be trusted. The king himself had realised it too, but the fight in him wavered. The room changed before his eyes. The golden floor remained its new colour, but the sky seemed darker. More threatening, almost.
"But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost..." His own voice echoed in his mind. As if listening to it, Thorin stilled his movement, seemingly nailed to the floor.
"A sickness lies upon that treasure..." Balin. His oldest friend.
"The blind ambition of a mountain-king..."
"Am I not the king!" His own voice. Again. "This gold...is ours...and ours alone..."
"Treasure..."
"I will not part with a single coin..."
"He could not see beyond his own desire..."
"That crown on your head means nothing..." His biggest taunting ghost: the Asha.
"As if I was some lowly dwarf lord...Oakenshield."
"A sickness that drove your grandfather mad..."
"Oakenshield..."
"This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror..."
"I am not my grandfather...my grandfather."
"You are the heir to the throne of Durin..."
"They are dying out there..."
"You cannot deny them the help that they deserve..."
"Take back...take Erebor..."
"Dain is surrounded... surrounded...is surrounded...Dain is surrounded..." His friend's voice, begging for help.
"Take back your homeland..." The grey pilgrim.
"You are changed, Thorin..." Bilbo.
"I was a fool to consider you might have changed..." Raewyn.
"I am not my grandfather..."
"Is this treasure truly worth more than your honour..."
"I am not my grandfather..." The words were now spoken aloud.
"You can trust him..." Raewyn's vow. Her vow for him.
Suddenly, the voices stopped, leaving a deafening silence. Shadows moved under his feet, below the floor. As he looked down, he saw the wings of the dragon. Its tail, its head, its paws, slithering from underneath him.
"This treasure will be your death..."
Screaming in agony, the floor beneath him gave out, sinking him into the golden sea. He tried to fight his way out, clawing at the edges, trying to out swim the gold, but it wouldn't work. The sea won, and it swallowed him whole.
Gasping audibly, Thorin staggered, observing his surroundings. He was still there. Standing atop of the golden floor that had taken him seconds again. The crown on top of his head felt heavier than ever. In panic and anger, he ripped it off, throwing it onto the floor.
Finally, his mind had returned to him.
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