I woke up on an empty bedroll, my fingers twitching in a desperate attempt to be intertwined with the hands of my ever-beloved. A drowsy breath escaped my lips as I rolled over onto my back and ran my hands over my face. Glimmering rays of golden-white sunlight peered through the open window, stretched over the ground, and shone right in my line of vision. I blinked a few times and attempted to shield my eyes before sitting bolt upright. That's right... I couldn't sit around for long. There was business to attend to. I didn't have time to mourn.
After adjusting the bodysuit Gandalf gave me, I ran my fingers through my hair after deciding to just leave it down. It was choppy and a bit messy in nature. My eyes were still bloodshot from the events of the former night, but there was nothing but pure heartache and anger in them. Good. The more unstable I looked, the easier it would be to scare the hell out of whoever needed coercing. I fastened Baratinu's sheath around my waist before heading out the door.
It didn't take long until I was walking alongside Dramona, Gandalf, Bilbo, and many others in the direction of the dwarves. I was eager to see Fili again, as well as the others- I hoped they were doing as well as could be possible. If Thorin was still acting as insane now as when I'd left him, however....
Evidently, I appeared to be right. Minutes after we'd arrived at the blockades separating us from them, I watched as Thorin shot an arrow from his bow and it fastened itself into the ground between Thranduil and Bard. "I will put the next one between your eyes!" He snarled, causing the other dwarves to erupt in cheer. I looked upwards and managed to catch Fili's gaze. He just looked at me for a moment, a tender expression on his face- but his attention was soon diverted, courtesy of the following exchanges.
I immediately became tense when the legion of elves all armed their bows and aimed them up at the company. The cheering ceased, and I exchanged glances with Dramona and Gandalf. Yes, Thorin was being unreasonable- but if any of the dwarves were hurt by the hands of elves... blood would be spilled at the hands of untameable nature. Thranduil's lips turned up into a smirk as he shifted his weight. "We have come to tell you: payment of your debt has been offered... and accepted."
Raging disbelief washed over the dwarven king's face. "What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!"
"We have this." Bard interjected, pulling the Arkenstone out of his pocket.
Thorin lowered his bow, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Kili, meanwhile, spoke up before his brother or anyone else could stop him. "They have the Arkentstone?" He exclaimed. "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the King!"
"And the King may have it," Bard replied, "in our good will. But first, he must honor his word."
My eyebrows furrowed when Thorin turned back to his kin momentarily, uttering words I could not hear from a distance. He then turned back around with obvious rage in his expression. "The Arkenstone is in this mountain! It is a trick!"
"It's- It's no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them." A voice said.
What happened next would be an exchange I would never forget. As Bilbo stepped out onto the ramparts, even those from a distance could witness the mutual shock and sorrow expressed by the dwarves. Thorin appeared to be in absolute disbelief. As the heated conversation ensued, I allowed my gaze to travel across the field in which we were all settled. I couldn't place my finger on it, but... something didn't feel right. Perhaps it was the amount of tension in the air, or the presence of elves- nevertheless, I felt as if there was something wrong. A general uneasiness.
I soon snapped back to reality at the sound of commotion up on the ramparts. My eyes widened. Thorin was attempting to throw Bilbo off the edge! "Put him down, you sick bastard!" I roared, balling my hands into fists.
Completely ignoring me, Thorin grabbed Bilbo by the collar while moving the hobbit closer to the edge of the rampart. "Curse you!" He shouted. "Cursed be the wizard that forced you on this Company!"
Gandalf strode forward, staff in hand, and a spark in his eyes. "If you don't like my burglar...." He started, voice returning to its normal volume not long after, "Then please don't damage him. Return him to me! You're not making a very splendid figure as King under the mountain, are you? Thorin, son of Thrain!"
The transformation on Thorin's face was evident. "Never again will I have dealings with wizards...." He slowly released Bilbo, and the other dwarves intervened to help their friend climb down the rope fastened on the side.
Bard shifted his weight anxiously and looked up to meet the dwarf King's gaze. "Are we resolved? The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised?" His jaw hardened at the lack of a response. "Give us your answer! Will you have peace or war?"
Thorin lifted his head, and now, more than ever, it was evident the dwarf standing before the mountain was not the same dwarf I had met in Bag End. He glowered at Bard with a scowl on his face, and uttered four words:
"I will have war!"
Immediately following his exclamation, a rumbling was heard to the left of all gathered. Over the rim of the hill was a series of dwarves heavily-clad in armor with their leader riding some sort of deranged-looking warthog. "Ironfoot." Gandalf murmured.
I looked at Dramona and lifted an eyebrow. "That's your father?"
She beamed proudly and nodded. "Aye! That's me Da. Dain Ironfoot"
This Ironfoot fellow rode his oversized pig onto a rocky overlook, where he began to address the crowd before him. The dwarves of Erebor were cheering, while Thranduil and his elves appeared to be on edge. "Good morning! How are we all?" Dain exclaimed. "I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider... just sodding off!"
The townspeople that came to support Bard murmured amongst themselves worriedly, while the elven regime drew their spears and marched forward. "All of you! Right now!" Dain exclaimed once more.
"Stand fest!" Bard commanded, motioning for his people to stay.
I lifted an eyebrow at the exchange as Gandalf strode forward as a means of relieving the situation. "Come now, Lord Dain!"
The dwarven lord's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Gandalf, but his motives were clearly unchanged. "Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!"
Thorin and the other members of the company roared in agreement with his statement. I smirked to myself and shook my head. "I like this guy."
Gandalf shifted his weight as a bit of anxiety started to creep into his expression. "There is no need for war between dwarves, men, and elves! A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!"
Anger flashed in Dain's eyes as he gripped his war hammer. "I will not stand before any elf!" His gaze then momentarily shifted to Thranduil. "Not least this faithless woodland sprite!"
I looked down at Dramona with a snicker. "Now I see where you get your thick-headed nature from."
She cocked an eyebrow at me. "You're one ta talk, ya wee kitty!" The dwarf said in a harsh whisper. As the two of us started to banter, therefore missing the exchange between Gandalf and Dain, no one had any inclination of what was to happen next. Dramona was moments away from giving a clever retort before the ground began to tremble.
I snapped my head up to the surrounding mountains, others doing the same. The rumbling appeared to be located at the base of the mountains. I looked to Gandalf for an answer- and the wizard seemed temporarily petrified. "Were-worms!"
Before I had the chance to ask what in the name of everything holy a were-worm was, I found my answer. Without any warning there appeared to be an explosion on the sides of the mountains themselves. Once a portion of the dust and debri had settled, these were-worms came into sight. They were easily hundreds of feet long and equally as thick, with a circular mouth filled to the brim with rotating teeth- evidently strong enough to break through the toughest stone.
As more of the mist cleared, I saw that Azog and a couple other Orcs were standing at the top of the hill. Behind them were several contraptions made of wood, rope, and cloth. A low growl echoed in the chasm of my chest at the sight of Azog. The realization then came to me...
This was a planned attack. We had fallen right into their hands. The Valar, how could we have been so stupid?
When Azog made a certain gesture, one of the contraptions behind him opened up to display a particular signal, and a horn sounded. What seemed to be seconds later, hundreds of Orcs began to stream out of one of the tunnels. These creatures were built to fight. Unfortunately for them, they also had another function: Dying.
"The hordes of hell are upon us!" Dain roared, lifting his war hammer up in the air. "To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!" He proceeded to turn around and charge straight towards the oncoming Orcs, his fellow dwarves doing the same. I quickly turned my head to see if the dwarves of Erebor were to do the same- wait, what?! Why was Thorin going back inside? More importantly, why weren't the other dwarves growing a pair of balls and ignoring his orders?
I muttered a few obscenities to myself as I unsheathed Baratinu, turned back around, and glared at the oncoming horde. Dramona met my gaze, and with a nod of understanding, we both gripped our weapons while running towards seemingly inevitable death.
This would all end today.
Yes, lives would be lost- but in this loss, freedom would be gained for the futures of those unborn.