Alright so this is chapter 51. Sorry it took me longer than I though. I actually wound up rewriting a lot of this chapter to get it to this point... and its still not perfect but it will have to do for now. Also know that it could be a while before the next chapter. I got asked to sew 18 memory bears, 21 pillowcases, and 4 blankets all before Christmas so I will be busy but I will keep writing just no promises when the next chapter will come out... but on the plus side I get paid to sew all those things and so I can use the extra cash to beef up Christmas... or pay a bill. ya know. To all those who commented and reviewed the last chapter... THANK YOU! I had an amazing birthday. Thanks for your love and support... and here's hoping they fix FFN ... but if they don't remember you can read this on Ao3 and a few other sites... just google the title of the story and bam you should be able to find it. Thank you all! Stay safe!
In which the company goes barreling and tragedy strikes.
The company came to halt at a signal from Tauriel as Legolas appeared in front of them, seeming to martialize from the darkness. Behind him Sara could see the torches burning on the bridge that spanned the 20 or 30 foot river. The water flowed beneath the bridge and through the iron bars of the water gate making what she guessed were floating barrels thump hollowly as they jostled each other in the current. She thought she could just make out Airidan's silhouette moving slowly and awkwardly about on the bridge as if dragging or carrying something heavy. Behind his silhouette the eastern horizon was beginning to turn a lighter shade of blue, the stars gradually winking out of existence.
"What did you find?" asked Tauriel, sounding hesitant and resigned.
"They were ambushed," said Legolas darkly. He held up a jagged arrow. "By orcs. All six of them. Shot in the back."
"Cowards," hissed Tauriel, taking the arrow from him, handling it as though it were entrails.
"We need to get you on your way quickly," said Legolas, tuning to them. Thorin put her down and checked his Orcrist again. The blade was still dark.
"You should come with us," urged Sara, glancing at Ruven beside her. "You can't stay here, not with that psychopath Saruman in charge. If he finds out or suspects that you helped us escape in any way, he will use his influence over the king to get you all locked up."
"Then it is well that no one saw us leave," said Legolas. "Our home is under attack and good men have already died. We are needed here."
"I am coming with you," said Ruven unabashedly, looking down at her and adjusting the straps of her pack on his shoulder to sit more comfortably. Dwalin cursed quietly from somewhere behind.
"You must do as you see fit," said Legolas, folding his arms across his chest.
"If the Orcs are led by Azog as I suspect they are," said Thorin, looking down at Sara with concern. "Then they will follow us once we leave. They are after Sara and myself. Me because of the long standing grudge between us and Sara because Azog saw her mark in their last encounter. He is determined to bring her to his master, wherever he may now reside."
"Sauron wants you?" asked Ruven, looking down at her, a frown pulling heavily at his lips.
"If Saruman is to be believed about the master of Dol Guldur, then yes," said Thorin nodding.
"What does he hope to achieve by capturing you?"
"Who's to say," said Sara, trying to repress a shudder. "I hope never to find out. It's bad enough being hounded by Saruman and Azog. The faster we get away and the more distance we put between us, the better."
"Very well," said Legolas. "If that is truly the case then we should get moving. Follow me." He led them to a small sandy bank on the edge of the river and through the gloom Sara could make out the large group of barrels of various sizes bobbing in the water before the bridge. Fili waded out a few feet and caught one of the mid side barrels. After prying off the lid he tipped it on its side and reached within pulling out two apples. Stuffing them into his pocket he carefully crawled inside the barrel which almost reached to his armpits and set it adrift, but no sooner had he done so then the barrel tipped over, sending Fili once again into the churning water.
"It's no use," he said, splashing back to shore, towing the barrel behind. "We are sure to drown. We cannot float down the river in these unless we seal ourselves in, and that is not a wise option with orcs about."
"Then it's a good thing that Myrin and I came prepared," said Lierin, pulling several large bundles of thin rope off his shoulder and tossing one to Fili. Fili caught it, his teeth flashing in the dark as a wide grin split his face.
One by one the barrels were fished out of the river by Myrin and Lierin who used long hooked poles to catch and steer them towards the river bank. By the light of the torches burning on the bridge the barrels were lashed together into two makeshift rafts. Nine of the three foot wide barrels were arranged around one of the enormous six foot wide wine barrels in the center. Into this center wine barrel went the company's packs and the other barrels lids before being sealed shut. The company may have a wet ride ahead of them but at least they would have dry clothes when they arrived at their destination even if they did smell of fermented grapes. The first of these two craft bobbed in the water just off shore, tied to a tree to keep it from floating away. Aboard Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, and Ori were tucked into their respective barrels. Though Fili and Kili were meant to ride in the first raft they had yet to hunker down as they were busily helping to secure the second. The pale looking Dwalin was already stashed in his barrel and under the imposed supervision of Oin and Gloin as Thorin worked to secure some knots around his barrel. The elves spoke quietly with each other in their own tongue near the bottom of the bridge, all except for Ruven who had followed Sara and Bilbo up onto the bridge, sticking to them like a second skin. Sara didn't really mind. Ruven may not be extremely sociable but he was quiet and at times oddly thoughtful in his own rough way. Perhaps the reason he and Dwalin did not get on was because of their bizarre similarities. He just stood beside them surveying their surroundings. She worried at an already too short finger nail. Just what made this elf tick. Why had he chosen to throw his lot in with her despite Legolas's uncertainty.
The eastern horizon was now stained a pale yellow and though the sun had not yet risen there was enough light in the breaking dawn for Sara and Bilbo to stumble about without aid. Sara had climbed to the top of the bridge to try and scope out the flow of the river below. It seemed that the water that flowed out from under the elven palace had been diverted to do so. Down river it was clear that this diverted water rejoined the main river and that once it did the water's flow became more tempestuous, dotted with boulders and rapids. Sara leaned out over the stone wall of the bridge, squinting into the gloom, hoping to see a way through it all but it was no use. She looked down at the drop just outside the gate, worrying at her lip. The water fell some 12 feet before flowing on and she could only hope the rafts would hold up. She glanced up at Ruven who was still by her side, shadowing her. There was a minute frown on his lips.
"What is it?" He glanced down at her.
"There is something off about the forest."
"You sense something?" asked Bilbo.
"Not exactly," said Ruven, folding his arms over his chest as he continued to stare into the east. "But there is something off about the skyline, as though it has changed somehow, missing something. But I can't seem to think what."
"Sara, Bilbo," called Fili from below. "We are ready to leave, come down."
"Quickly," urged Legolas, beckoning from the end of the bridge. "The guards will change soon and your escape will be discovered and ourselves along with it."
"I suppose there's nothing for it," said Bilbo grimacing. "Into barrels we go." He turned to leave but caught his bare toes on an uneven stone and fell flat on his face, his sword spinning out onto the bridge in front of him. It was glowing. Ruven lunged for it just as arrows filled the air, whistling toward them.
"Orcs," yelled Ruven, simultaneously yanking Sara to her knees behind the low wall and hauling Bilbo closer. Arrows bounced off the stones around them.
"Get down here," shouted Fili. "We need to leave."
"No," yelled Balin, jumping aboard the raft. "Stay where you are lass. We'll come to you. Shove off lads!"
"But they...," said Fili.
"No time," said Thorin. "Shove off. We'll catch them." Nodding, Fili and Kili gave a tremendous heave, their boots slipping in the gravel and Thorin's raft was off, headed towards the bridge. Within a few more seconds Fili and Kili had leapt aboard their own raft cutting the tethers before dropping into their barrels. Ruven knelt over Sara and Bilbo, practically forcing them to meld with the stone wall at their backs as he drew the bow from over his shoulder and returned fire. Sara reached for the knife at her belt knowing her staff was in her barrel as she watched the far side of the bridge, waiting for any orc who dared to charge out of the trees toward them. The path and the bridge remained empty.
"Where are they? Why don't they attack?" asked Legolas, loosing yet another shaft into the morning twilight.
"Open the gate," called Thorin. The raft was quickly closing the distance. Airidan leapt for the gate leaver and pulled it, retreating just in time to miss an arrow in his chest. The spare barrels thumped together hollowly as they fell over the drop. Sara's heart raced as panic began to creep through her but she clamped down on the feeling. Now was no time to lose her head. She peaked over the top of the wall, trying to gauge when they would need to jump. Ruven yanked her aside, an arrow only narrowly missing her head. It hit the stones behind them and bounced back, clattering to the ground in front of Bilbo. The hobbit was hunched over, arms over his head, eyes round and panicked. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it firmly.
"Be ready," called Thorin. Airidan knelt in front of them and offered a hand to Bilbo who took it hesitantly.
"Cover us," called Airidan. The other elves were all converging on the bridge now as the rafts neared. "Hold on little one," said Airidan, scooping up Bilbo and leaping out over the water.
"Now," said Ruven, firing one last arrow before slinging his bow over his shoulder and pulling Sara to her feet in one smooth motion. Wrapping an arm around her waist and he clamped her to his side and leapt off the bridge just in time to land with a hollow thud mid raft. Without a second of hesitation he deposited her in the empty barrel between Thorin and Dwalin.
"Stay down," said Ruven, roughly pushing her into a crouch inside her barrel. It was cramped inside, her knees knocking the sides as the faint smell of oats wafted through the small space. There was a thunk on her barrel and the tip of an arrow poked through the wood beside her. She looked up just in time to realize that her barrel was the first to pass under the bridge and subsequently would be the first to plunge into the water below.
"Hold fast," bellowed Thorin as the world tipped on its side. Taking a deep breath Sara pushed her feet and knees against the inside of the barrel, bracing her arms as well. Her staff dug into her back as she waited breathlessly for the drop. There was a moment of nauseating free fall and then water closed over her head in a roaring rushing wave. The cold froze her breath in her chest and panic clawed at her throat as the seconds ticked by under water. She fought the urge to kick out in search of air, instead trusting the buoyancy of the raft, hoping the ropes held it together. She need not have worried for a moment later the raft bobbed upward.
She shot up, gasping for air, water filling her barrel to her waist as she looked around for her companions. They were all there, even Airidan and Ruven, though drenched, were still aboard. She looked up just in time to see the second raft tip over the edge and Myrin leap off the bridge toward them. Airidan and Ruven caught his arms as they bobbed under his sudden added weight. The second raft surfaced with all its occupants in their barrels save a terrified looking Ori who was being helped back into his barrel by Fili and Nori. Legolas, Tauriel, and Lierin dropped onto the center of the second raft. All were accounted for. There was an all-too-familiar whistling and Ruven pushed her down into her barrel with a quick foot on her shoulder as he, Kili, and the other elves returned fire. Another arrow bit into her barrel, water trickling in through the splintered wood. Sara crouched, gripping her staff, the water lapping at her chin and lips, as she prayed not to hear anyone's cry of pain.
"We're out of range. You can come up now," said Ruven after a few tense minutes, tapping her shoulder with a foot. She peeked out over the rim glancing at Thorin who nodded reassuringly at her. The elves still held their bows, though no longer at the ready. The rafts had already run into the main river and were coursing faster among boulders and rapids. She had underestimated the rafts. Due to their size and weight they were quite stable and threatened by little other than the occasional jutting rock. They rode relatively smoothly down river only pushing off or away from the occasional rock formation.
"I don't like it," said Dwalin gruffly, scooping handfuls of water out of his barrel. "Why didn't they rush us on the bridge?"
"I'm not sure," said Thorin, reaching out to push the raft away from a boulder as they passed. "But I agree. We escaped far too easily." He held a hand over his brow, his blue eyes squinting into the sun that was now cresting over the horizon. Sara followed his gaze, her eyes watering as the sunlight bounced off the river into them.
"Why do we have these pointy-eared elves on our raft?" groused Dwalin, after several moments of quiet, giving up removing the water from his barrel. Sara turned back to see Dwalin and Ruven eying each other rather unhappily. She glanced at Thorin and Bilbo but before she could respond Ruven spoke.
"I intend to stay with Sara Miller until the will of the Valar is seen to its conclusion," said Ruven tersely. Sara glanced at Thorin to see him frowning. "Believe me," continued Ruven. "I would rather not be in present company, but such is my lamentable luck." Dwalin looked about ready to punch the elf in the knee, which was worryingly near Dwalin's barrel.
"That could be awhile Ruven," said Sara, hoping to divert a fight. "I'm not sure what exactly it is the Valar expect me to do. I'm just making this up as I go, making my best guess."
"Be that as it may, you have their mark and their trust. And that of the gray wizard. I'll not leave your side until I'm sure they are satisfied." Across the raft Airidan pushed off yet another rock, grunting slightly with the effort. A wave splashed up over the edge of Sara's barrel dowsing her again in frigid water.
"Well what about those two?" grumped Dwalin, jabbing a thumb at Airidan and Myrin.
"The orcs have attacked our lands and killed our guards," said Airidan, frowning grimly. "Some of them were good friends. If we are to be outcasts and traitors in the king's eyes, then at least we shall be productive ones. We follow Sara."
"Are you sure?" she asked. "We tend to attract an inordinate amount of trouble. What about Legolas?"
"It was the prince's decision," said Myrin grinning. "He leads and we follow, all except for Ruven apparently." Ruven did not deign to answer him, but continued his watch as they floated down river. Sara was silent for a moment trying to come up with a proper response but drew a blank.
"Thanks," she said sincerely, feeling a bit lame. They floated on for a few minutes, occasionally bumping or pushing off rocks.
"Tell me," said Balin, addressing Airidan. "Have you had any severe storms of late?" Airidan looked down at the diplomat, confused, but Balin was looking into the east.
"No. Why?"
"Because," said Balin, pointing downriver. "There are several substantially sized trees that, by the look of them, have fallen across the river recently. Very recently." Sara squinted into the sun, trying to shade her eyes with a hand. Three thickly needled pines lay draped across the river.
Ruven cursed loudly. "Those were not there a week ago when I was on patrol," he said. "I knew something was off."
"What does it mean?" asked Bilbo, a finger tucked unthinkingly into his vest pocket.
"It means that they have been cut down and dropped over the river for a purpose," said Thorin darkly, drawing Orcrist. "This isn't over yet. Ready your weapons!" called Thorin to the other raft behind them. There was a flurry of movement and all were armed and wary. The river moved faster as it was channeled through a narrow gorge, the high walls glowing pink with the risen sun. Sara gripped her staff watching with bated breath as the trees grew closer and closer. They passed under the first of the giant fir trees. Nothing happened. Sara blew out of breath.
"Don't relax," admonished Ruven in a whisper. "They want to catch us off our guard." The other two trees loomed a dozen yards further downstream.
"Those trees are too densely branched, wouldn't you agree?" asked Airidan, notching an arrow. Ruven nodded and drew back an arrow of his own. As if they had rehearsed it, they let fly in unison, the shafts disappearing among the thickest clusters of the long needles. Two squeals of pain rang out in the morning air and moments before they passed beneath it, a body fell from the tree, splashing into the river. Pandemonium broke loose.
Orcs dropped like spiders from the trees as arrows whizzed through the air. All around were flailing limbs and splatters of dark blood as they defended themselves from the onslaught of enemies. Sara crouched in her barrel, the two halves of her staff broken apart, the blades held skyward, ready to stick any enemy that dropped from above. She need not have worried for Ruven stepped across her barrel, straddling the entrance, his feet planted on the rim.
Large grappling hooks dropped from the sky, trying to catch hold of the raft. One of them must have caught for the raft jerked to a halt and Ruven was forced to take another stance or lose his balance altogether. She poked her head up, just in time to see Myrin and Airidan leap into the tree, cutting down orcs as they went. Five of the creatures dropped onto the raft and were instantly engaged by the dwarves and Ruven. Thorin and Balin had climbed out of their barrels to fight a rather large and brutish orc as the others chopped at legs and threw bodies overboard. Through the commotion she could see that the raft was held in place by not one, but three grappling hooks, one just the other side of Thorin's empty barrel, the other between Oin and Gloin, and the last on the far side of Bilbo on Dwalin's other side. An orc dropped down on top of her barrel, snarling, flecks of spittle spattering her face as it reached for her with clawed hands. She stabbed upward with her staff, the blades piercing it's face and chest before it fell screaming over the edge and into the river. Black blood ran down the staff and onto her hands, but she didn't have time to wipe them. She popped up again and seeing that the others were busy she pulled the knife from its place on her hip and leaned out across Thorin's barrel, intent on cutting the raft free. Bilbo was hacking away at the very thick rope beside his barrel that tethered them. Just as she was about to set blade to rope, something fell over her shoulders and tightened around her chest, yanking her up out of the barrel and across the raft. Her knife fell from her hands as the pain constricted around her lungs.
"Sara," cried Thorin, blocking a high blow from the orc in front of him. Her feet were now in the air, the ever tightening rope being hauled in by a hideous one-eyed orc in the tree above. Ruven lunged for her but was halted by yet another orc dropping in front of him. Sara struggled but could not loosen the rope, her body weight pulling the slip knot too tight.
"Lass. Sara!" yelled Dwalin clambering out of his barrel, swinging wildly at an orc that dropped between them, knocking it flying into the river. Sara dangled above Bilbo who jumped and grabbed around her knees, trying to pull her down, but his arms slipped.
"Lass, hang on," called Dwalin, just barely catching her ankle in his strong grip. "Sara hold tight to the rope above yer head and pull." Gasping in pain she pulled the rope with all her might as Dwalin slowly dragged her back down into his arms. The moment the rope was within reach he grasped it and gave a savage yank, snarling as two orcs fell screaming into the river.
"Are ya alright lass?" asked Dwalin, gently pulling the rope over her head. He peered into her face, his own tired and wan.
"I'll be alright," she wheezed, rubbing at her rib cage. Bilbo managed to cut the thick rope just as Thorin and the others dispatched the last orcs and cut the other ropes. The raft began to float free and Airidan and Myrin leapt down onto the raft once again. Thorin knocked a last grappling hook out of the air with a roar as they moved out from under the trees and into the open. Dwalin saw Sara back to her barrel and Thorin ducked into his before handing her knife back to her.
"Are you well?" he asked, wiping a splatter of blood from his face. She nodded and took the knife, stowing it at her hip again. She looked around, sudden worry gripping her as she spotted more trees dropped across the river further ahead. These trees hung lower than the others, the ravine dropped away as the river opened up again. The second raft had passed them by and was some ten yards down river from them. She counted heads. Fear pricked her when she could not find Tauriel or Kili, but then she spotted them in the river a few yards behind the raft holding to a rope being pulled in by Fili and Legolas. Fili reached for his brother and together he and Legolas dragged the pair onto the raft but something was wrong with Tauriel. Her body was limp and red stained the side of her face. Lierin bent over her for a moment, examining her and then shouted to Airidan in elvish.
"Is she ok?" asked Sara.
"She is unconscious but will recover," said Ruven, translating. Kili stood atop his barrel gripping Tauriel under the arms lowering her into one of the empty barrels with Fili's help as Legolas and Lierin began peppering the trees ahead with arrow after arrow. There was a return volley of arrows and the company ducked lower in their barrels. Several shafts streaked toward Fili and Kili. Fili knocked two aside with one of his swords, but to Sara's horror Kili collapsed struck in the thigh, the shaft buried deep in the muscle of his leg. Kili staggered for a moment before Fili caught him. Giving his brother an apologetic grimace, Fili snapped the shaft of the arrow close to the leg. Kili jerked involuntarily but did not yell out as Fili lowered him into the barrel beside Tauriel. The trees were getting closer now and Fili stood mid-raft, back-to-back with Legolas and Myrin.
The orcs in the trees were no longer attempting to hide their presence, but stood, leering down at them as they floated closer, weapons and grappling hooks held high. Airidan, Myrin, and Ruven loosed several bouts of arrows into their ranks, but something high and to the right caught Sara's attention. Dread crept through her like ice encasing her body.
High upon a rocky outcropping stood an enormous white warg and upon the beast rode Azog, surveying the scene below him with a sneer. His glacial blue eyes caught hers, holding her gaze like a pair of frozen magnets. A sinister smile spread across his face, growing like a malignant tumor and he turned to the orc beside him, pointing his claw directly at her. The orc beside him was tall and pale like Azog but malformed and misshapen. Bent metal plates penetrated the flesh of his chest like horrifying gills. His head was plated with metal seams and rivets, and a milky white eye was sunk into his left eye socket. His head swung in her direction and his mutilated lips curved into a perverse facsimile of a smile. His pointed teeth flashed under his snub nose, reminding her of a piranha, the glint in his eyes only adding to this impression.
"Azog," called Balin, pointing as the two orcs faded into the foliage behind them, Airidan and Ruven's arrows missing them by inches.
"And his son Bolg," growled Airidan.
"Protect Sara," called Ruven to the other raft. "She is the target."
"Sara?" called Thorin.
Azog was here! He was after her... her specifically. She had known that in the back of her mind, but to see him here in the light of day and not just her nightmares... Something in her chest burst like a glass jar filled with pus, the creeping fear mixed with the jagged spikes of outright panic. Although she was aware of her ragged hasty breath, it was as if she was sensing this about another person, not herself at all. Too horrible to be real.
"Sara, do not give in to panic!"
Azog's malicious blue eyes had haunted her sleep on a regular basis since Rivendell, but she had always known them to be dreams in the moments after jerking awake, her heart pounding like horse hooves in her chest. He was here for real this time. No dream or half suppressed memory of that night she had been captured. She had to get out of this leaky tub, had to run away, had to hide. Nowhere was far enough. She would not endure that pain or terror again. Never again!
"Sara!" Calloused fingers caught her cheeks and she was staring into another pair of blue eyes, these filled with concern and care. Thorin. She breathed out his name as though trying to drown out the clamoring in her chest, that frantic buzzing energy with all the noise and momentum of a freight train. Her eyes swiveled in their sockets, searching for an escape.
"Look at me," commanded Thorin, his voice deep and steady. He moved his hand to catch the back of her neck. "Sara, look at me." With effort she returned her gaze to his.
"Sara listen to me. All will be well. He will never touch you so long as I draw breath." Her eyes darted towards the tree line. "No! Look at me." She did. "Take a deep breath." She struggled for control over her breathing as he gazed at her.
"You must overcome your panic. You have to be calm or he has already won. We shall not let him harm you," he repeated. Thorin drew her closer, his forehead resting against hers as he stared unblinkingly into her eyes "Relax. Breathe. Think." With great effort she began to regulate her breathing, concentrating on her racing heart and slowly bringing it under control, the warmth of his hand on her neck centering her.
"I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper.
"I know," he said, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin. "It's okay. We will get through this. Stay close and stay down all right."
"Just imagine this as another round of battle strategy training lass," said Dwalin behind her, brandishing his axes. "Only this time we're all working to keep ya safe. Remember, use any means to protect yerself." She kept her eyes on Thorin and took another steading breath before nodding.
"Four trees ahead," reported Airidan, catching Sara's attention. Thorin released her neck with a gentle squeeze and together they turned to survey the coming scene. It wasn't good. Ahead the river grew course and choppy, broken up by enormous boulders that seemed to line the banks of the river. Above the felled trees writhed with teaming orc bodies. Azog reappeared someway down the river just past the trees but his son was nowhere to be seen.
"We end them here," yelled Thorin, thrusting Orcrist in the pale orc's direction.
"I will go with you," said Airidan.
"As will we," said Gloin and Oin, clambering out of their tubs.
"I will remain with Sara," said Ruven and Dwalin in almost perfect unison. They looked at each other for a moment and then nodded tersely.
"As will I," said Balin.
"Pass under the trees as quickly as possible," instructed Thorin. "Do not wait for us."
"But," stuttered Bilbo... But there was no more time for talk, the orcs were upon them in moments. Airidan and Myrin leapt into the trees followed closely by the others. Sara saw Fili, Legolas, and Lierin jump into the waiting branches as well, but unlike her raft, the others went under the trees and out the other side mostly unaccosted, as they bobbed downriver and out of sight. Glittering black eyes trained on her, their grappling hooks ready to drop and catch them.
"Stay down, and ready your weapons," said Ruven, firing arrows into the tree. "All will be well. Don't fear, fight!" She looked across at Bilbo and although she could clearly see his fear etched in the lines of his face he looked at her with genuine courage as the blue of his blade reflected off his wet cheeks.
Grappling hooks shot out like enormous fish hooks seeking to snag a prize fish. They jerked to a halt as Balin and Dwalin clambered out of their barrels and on deck. They and Ruven sliced through the four orcs that dropped from the trees as Sara and Bilbo cut what ropes they could. Sara was forced to retreat back into her barrel as an orc slipped past the others and darted toward her. She swung out with her half staff, the blade slicing through its face, leaving a dark gash spurting blood. She swung again connecting with the orcs neck as it backed away, holding its wound. Dwalin spotted it and kicked out catching it in the back, sending it sprawling over board before he spun and cut the last rope holding them in place.
But not sooner had they rid their raft of the last orc and began to move downriver again then other hooks fell from the trees. A particularly jagged hook on the end of a chain missed the raft entirely, landing instead in front of them. For a moment Sara was relieved it had missed them but as they floated over it, it became clear that they were far from free. The chain snapped taut, embedding itself in the bottom of the raft well below the water line spinning them around in the water as other chained hooks dropped down catching them.
"Fili," shouted Balin, stabbing the orc in front of him.
"A little busy," called Fili, pushing an injured orc from the tree.
"We're caught lad." Fili glanced down and nodded.
"On it," he called, blocking a blow. He snatched the ax from a falling orc and began hacking away at one of the chains and in a few moments it fell loose. Ruven leapt upward and located another of the chains. Balin and Dwalin worked to keep the raft clear of orcs but the creatures kept coming one after another, and Sara could tell Dwalin was reaching his limit. Enemies that ordinarily would have fallen with a single swing of his axe took two or three hits before going down and Balin had to deflect more than one stray blow to keep him from injury. They had to break away from the trees where they were constantly bombarded with enemies.
All but one of the chains were severed now and Sara and Bilbo worked to cut any remaining ropes holding them in place. They began to move forward again. On the first of the four trees Fili had located the last chain but finding it too difficult to untangle from the tree so had instead settled for simply chopping the tree in half. He paused for a moment in his work, glancing down, waiting for the raft to pass beneath him before he delivered the final blow, but was attacked by an orc in his moment of hesitation. The creature swung down at him with a heavy axe but missed Fili who dodged aside. Instead the orcs blow finished Fili's work and split the tree trunk plunging Fili and seven screaming orcs into the river. The falling tree clipped the edge of the raft catapulting Balin and Dwalin into the churning water. Dwalin managed to catch hold of a trailing rope but Balin was swept further downriver. The raft floated out from under the trees but came to a jerking halt well as yet another chained hook caught them.
Sara scrambled out of her barrel and raced to help Dwalin. Half of the split tree sideswiped the raft knocking it sideways and narrowly avoiding Dwalin's trailing legs. Fili careened past them clinging desperately to the tree as he fought against an orc. Sara knew a moment of terror as the tree swept toward Balin who had managed to catch hold of a boulder mid-river. He scrambled on top of it just in time to catch Fili who leapt from the passing tree, slashing the face of the orc who tried to grab his feet. It was just her, Bilbo, and an exhausted Dwalin aboard the raft now. Sara searched the trees above looking for Thorin but could not spot him among the feathered branches and chaos.
"Sara behind you," cried Bilbo, pointing toward the boulder strewn shore. She turned and narrowly avoided having her foot smashed by a heavy grappling hook studded with wicked-looking barbs. It crashed into the raft embedding itself deeply in between a few of the barrels. Her heart sank as she followed the thick chain to the shore. Standing atop a tall stone and flanked by two grotesques and hulking orcs was Bolg, the heavy chain in hand. The raft jerked sideways, sending Sara to her knees as Bolg began to pull in the chain hand over hand. Frantically she jerked and pulled at the chain, trying to pry the hook free from the raft but to no avail. They were being reeled in like a fish on a line.
"Thorin!" bellowed Dwalin, getting to his knees. "Bilbo, quickly, lend me your little sword." Bilbo tossed the glowing sword to Dwalin who raised the blade high to chop at the wood, but before he could strike a blow a long dark arrow whizzed through the air and struck him in his good shoulder. Dwalin cried out and dropped the sword but Sara lunged forward and caught it. Dwalin wrenched the shaft from his shoulder grimacing before taking a hold of the small sword Sara offered back to him. His fingers had no sooner closed around the hilt then the three orcs landed with a thud on top of the raft. Dwalin shoved her out of the way of a grasping hand and staggered to his feet as Bolg approached him, mace in hand. Sara reached inside her barrel and pulled out the two halves of her staff. She tossed one to Bilbo who had just managed to clamber out of the barrel that was only a few inches shorter than himself. She dodged away from the two orcs that lunged toward her, swiping at them with her half staff, but she stumbled and fell backwards into the barrel. A sudden pain erupted from her head and she was hoisted aloft by the hair. She reached for the hand gripping her hair, trying to pry the fingers apart.
"Let her go!" yelled Bilbo, running forward only to be kicked aside and fall back into a barrel. She screamed, kicking out at the orc that held her but he jerked her hair, wrenching yet another screen from her. Bolg knocked Dwalin to the ground but instead of finishing him turned his attention to Sara. Bilbo had regained his feet and swiped at Bolg's legs as he passed but cried out in pain as Bolg's boot connected with his face. Sara reached for the knife at her hip in a last ditch attempt to free herself but it was knocked from her hand by Bolg as he peered into her face grinning widely.
This was it. She was going to be taken captive, taken to Sauron himself. Despair welled up inside her, but then she was crashing to her knees. Something fleshy and heavy fell from her hair, to her shoulder, and then with an unpleasant splash into the barrel below her. A severed orc hand bobbed in the water stained with dark blood. Above her stood Ruven, his sword plunged through the belly of the orc that had held her. Dwalin stumbled to his feet swinging at the second orc as Ruven wrenched his sword free and lunged at Bolg, pushing him back.
Sara looked up at a shout from Thorin and could see he and Legolas running along the bank towards them. Myrin, Lierin, and Airidan had managed to cut the last of the chains tethering the raft to the trees and now stood on the river bank, killing any orc that attempted to leave the trees. Thorin and Legolas were almost upon them when Azog burst from the tree line, charging them down, forcing them to turn and meet him head-on.
The raft crashed into the boulders that peppered the riverbank knocking Dwalin to his knees. His assailant pounced on him but moments later was flying over the side and into the river Dwalin having flipped him with his legs. Bolg caught Ruven a blow to the face with his elbow and the elf staggered backwards. Spotting an opening, Bolg swung his mace down in a powerful arc towards Dwalin's head but the dwarf saw it coming and rolled out of the way just in time, the mace crushing the wood beneath him. Ruven shouted for Airidan, Myrin, and Lierin alerting them to their plight and the three broke into a run down the bank towards them. Bolg kicked out and caught Dwalin in the chest, sending him sprawling over the edge and back into the water before turning his murderous intent back to the elf. Sara dodged around the fighting pair and reached for Dwalin, catching his wrist. His fingers gripped the barrels edge as he tried to pull himself back aboard, but exhaustion and hopelessness were beginning to creep into his expression.
"Let go lass, protect yerself," growled Dwalin, his forearms trembling with effort.
"No." She shifted her slippery grip on his skin for that of his loose sleeves. "I won't let you drown. I know your exhausted."
"Sara protect yerself!"
"Shut up," she snapped, pulling at him. "You still owe me an apology." She could see Airidan and Lierin bounding from boulder to boulder only a few dozen yards off now. "Hang on help is almost here." Myrin had joined Legolas and Thorin in their fight against Azog and his white warg and the three of them made a steady retreat towards the river. Her inattention cost her dearly.
"Sara lookout," screamed Bilbo. She turned to see Bolg lung for her, hands outstretched. With a last ditch effort Dwalin shoved her and she rolled to the side. Ruven caught her wrist and yanked her up by his side. Bolg turned to them ignoring Dwain's shouts, hefting his mace in one hand, a sneer on his puckered lips. Bolg swung high and Ruven jerked her to the side, trying to spin them out of harm's way, but instantly Sara knew something was wrong.
Ruven's grip on her wrist went slack and his sword slipped from his fingers, clattering on the barrel at their feet. His green and gold specked eye was wide with shock. The left side of Ruven's head was smashed in with a force of a blow from Bolg's mace. Red splattered warmly across her face and lips as the orc yanked his weapon free. Ruven's body twitched involuntarily and then sagged. Reflexively, Sara's tongue flicked out to lick the moisture from her lips and the iron tang of blood filled her mouth. She gagged, the bile burning up her throat as the Ruven slid down her front and her knees gave way. Her head swam as the world went silent, white and fuzzy at the edges. Ruven's right eye stared up at her, blank and glazed as the warmth of his blood seeped across her lap. His head fell to the side, hiding his shattered face, leaving only the right side turned upward, unmarred or blemished, save a tiny freckle of blood just below his blank eye.
She saw nothing of her surroundings. There was no sound. No sensation. She did not see Bilbo sneak up behind Bolg and slice the back of his calves, nor did she notice when Airidan and Lierin alighted on the raft, driving the orc into the river. The elves' cries of grief we're silent to her as was the hollow thump of boots as Thorin, Legolas, and Myrin landed atop the central barrel. Azog's scream of rage did not reach her ears. She was deaf to the cracking of wood or the clanking of chain as Thorin yanked the last grappling hook free with a mighty wrench. She felt no sense of relief as Dwalin was hauled aboard or when Balin and Fili were rescued from their perilous perch atop their mossy boulder. There was no warmth or comfort in Thorin's arms around her. She saw nothing save the tiny fleck of blood below Ruven's right eye, heard nothing but his last ragged breath, and felt nothing but abject horror as his lifeless body slipped silently from her lap and into the river.