Work Text:
Erebor. Heart of the battlefield. Five armies are fighting right now, but in the core of the battle only two figures are standing.
Just a few seconds have passed since you jumped between Azog the Defiler and a wounded Thorin Oakenshield: now you’re alone, bravely facing the Pale Orc and determined to protect the one you love at all costs.
«Stay away from him, milky face» you hiss in a threatening tone, pointing your sword towards your opponent.
«Y/N…» you hear Thorin calling you from behind your back. His voice is weak, sign that he’s certainly injured. Feeling the anger rising, you tighten the grip on your weapon.
Suddenly, the Orc’s expression lights up.
«You again» he finally recognizes you.
It’s not the first time you come between him and the son of Thráin: as a matter of fact, a few months ago you prevented him to hurt the same dwarf outside the goblin caves. An affront he didn’t forget.
«I told you: if you touched my friends again, I would have killed you» you remember him with a hard expression.
No, you’re not immune to fear right now: you can perfectly feel your heart racing in your chest and your muscles trembling with anxiety. But anger and determination are stronger than terror. If your enemy wants to get to Thorin, he’ll have to get through you first.
Azog stares at you for a moment: he won’t burst into laugh. You already demonstrated him you’re not someone to play with. But the gloomy grin that slowly appears on his face shows you that, this time, he won’t play either.
«Time to die» he snarls, using again the Common Speech: he wants you to understand his words.
He doesn’t hesitate a second longer, and with a frightful roar he charges at you, swinging his mace: but you’re ready, and you manage to lift your sword to block the attack. That’s how the battle starts, a battle you will never remember very clearly: later, it will be told that you held your ground just fine, even managing to disarm your opponent.
And that’s where you are right now, pointing your sword at Azog’s throat with a triumphant expression on your face. You’re breathless, exhausted from the battle, but you made it.
Behind your back, you can hear Thorin’s lament - he’s probably trying to get up - and, for a moment, happiness overwhelms you. But that’s just what it takes to turn the situation upside down: an instant of distraction.
Suddenly, Azog reaches for the sword of a dead warrior not too far from you and, with unexpected speed, he strikes.
You feel a sharp, lacerating pain spreading through your whole body: your nerves and muscles tremble when the cold metal hits you, piercing your stomach. Everything around you becomes distant and muffled: the chaos of the battle, the shouts of the warriors, the clashing of weapons… In the vicinity, someone is laughing, someone else is screaming your name.
As Azog withdraws the sword, you fall on your knees but incredibly, your reflexes are ready: your hands automatically plant themselves on the snow, preventing you from crushing on the ground. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, your sword still clenched in your fist.
On all fours, you can feel the Pale Orc walking past you. He’s saying something, but right now you’re not able to make out his words. However, you’re well aware of what will soon happen.
You can’t give up now, Y/N… you encourage yourself, panting heavily. A groan of pain escapes your mouth as you feel warm blood dripping from the wound.
«Khozd-shrakhun*» you then hear clearly.
Thorin! your mind screams. You know Azog is standing in front of the dwarf now. You can feel it. He’s going to kill him if you do not act quickly… and you can’t allow Thorin to die.
Anger and determination light up again inside of you: it’s a small flame, weak and faint, and you’re aware that you’ll have to gather all the strength left in you to stoke it up.
«Goryagug*» you hear Azog speaking again.
Come on, get up! you mentally yell. Now!
They say miracles happen when you have enough willpower to make them happen. That day, you had the demonstration it’s true.
With an incredible effort, you tighten the grip on your sword and quickly turn back while getting up: in the process, you hit the Orc’s leg, making him fall on one knee. Your fury hurls at him without mercy: it’s like the last fire of a phoenix, before it burns down in its own flames. Returning in front of Thorin, you assault your opponent with a deluge of blows and the only thing he can do is trying to block them while moving back. In his eyes, you can see shock… and fear. However, Azog’s retreat doesn’t last much longer: suddenly, he stops to cast a glance over his shoulder, only to bitterly realize he’s now standing on the edge of a precipice.
«I warned you» you growl with a deep tone of voice, eager to end the game once and for all. This time, you won’t hesitate.
«Time to die» you whisper.
Using your last sparkle of strength, you swing your sword and strike a powerful blow on the Pale Orc, beheading him. A terrible scream rises from the Orc army as the head of their commander falls to the ground, but that desperate shout is the last thing you hear.
Exhausted and fatally wounded, your vision starts to darken and, before precipitating into unconsciousness, you last thought goes to Thorin: now, he’s finally safe.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
Dark surrounds you completely. You can’t see or feel anything, not even your body.
Suddenly, however, distant sounds break the deafening silence that’s wrapping you: voices.
«I have no intention of letting an Elf touch her» someone states firmly.
«Enough, Thorin!» someone else pipes in harshly. «Did this battle teach you nothing? Lord Elrond is the only one who may be able to save her. Don’t let her die because of your pride».
Before you can formulate a concrete thought, anyway, you slip again into unconsciousness.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
«How is she?» again, a distant voice wakes you from your slumber. Everything is still dark, but this time you feel much less confused and the words you hear, despite being still faint, are more distinct.
«Still unconscious» someone else replies in a deep, disconsolate tone.
«What did they say?».
Bilbo? you think as you recognize his voice. What’s happening?
«That we can only wait and… hope» the other one explains, and you can clearly perceive the concern in his voice.
«Thorin, Y/N is a tough girl. She’ll be all right» the hobbit tries to comfort him.
Thorin?
«Meanwhile, it would be wise for you to rest for a few-»
«I’m not leaving her» the dwarf firmly interrupts him.
Suddenly, you feel the urge to wake up: you want to open your eyes, you want to hug him and to tell him that you’re not going to leave him for any reason. But your numb body and your tired brain don’t feel the same way, and before you can realize it, you fall asleep again.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
You feel a gentle touch. After a moment of surprise - since you can finally feel your body again - you realize that a hand is delicately caressing your cheek.
«I know you’re strong, Y/N» you hear someone whispering. This time, it doesn’t take much time for you to understand it’s Thorin.
«You are the strongest person I’ve ever met» he continues with broken voice. «Please, don’t give up now. Don’t leave me».
Unwilling to do it, anyway, you can’t help but surrender to the dark, as it takes you away for one last time.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
When you finally manage to open your eyes, after a moment of confusion, light hurts your iris and you need a moment to get used to it, since you spent so much time - how much? - in the dark. Ignoring a terrible headache, you start to carefully examine where you are, but as soon as you’ve noticed the rock ceiling and the comfortable bed you’re laying in, a voice catches your attention.
«Y/N!» someone exclaims in fact from outside your field of vision.
Suddenly, a shocked Thorin appears at your side, staring in awe at your opened eyes.
«Âkminrûk zu, Mahal*» he murmurs as he rushes to sit on a chair near your bed. He reaches out for your hand extremely carefully, as if the slightest vibration could hurt you. «How are you feeling?».
With your mouth as dry as a desert, you manage to mutter only a few words. «Stiff… but better».
When you smile, the dwarf also cannot contain an overjoyed expression and lift a hand to caress your cheek; in that moment, however, another figure enters the room: it’s a maiden, an Elf maiden, and as soon as she notices you’re awake, she hurries to fill a glass of water. But when she approaches you to help you drink, Thorin gets up and takes the glass from her hands without too much courtesy.
«I’ll do it, don’t worry» he rashly explains.
Carefully, he brings the glass near your lips and you start to drink: tasting the fresh water in your mouth and down your throat is immensely satisfying. When you’re done, Thorin tries to say something, but his eyes end up on the Elf maiden once more, noticing she’s about to set your pillows.
Quickly, the dwarf put the glass on the bedside table and rushes to arrange your bed before the Elf does.
«I got it» he states shortly.
You can’t help but chuckle: it seems that Thorin won’t allow anyone else to take care of you. But while you find it funny and even sweet, the Elf doesn’t appear to share your opinion, as she walks towards the door with a slightly annoyed expression.
«What?» Thorin asks when he notices your glare. With a quick movement of your head, you point at the Elf going away.
The dwarf rolls his eyes, but finally recognizes your silent scolding has a point. «Thank you» he mumbles in fact to the maiden, who turns to him with a surprised expression and eventually leaves, an understanding smile on her face.
Finally alone, Thorin grabs the glass again and lets you take a few more sips.
«Thank you» you sigh satisfied. «How are you, instead? And what about the others?» you then ask him, as a few fragments of the battle come to your mind.
«They’re all fine» the dwarf assures you, sitting on the chair and putting the glass on the table. But when he sets his eyes upon you, his expression becomes suddenly serious. «But they were worried, Y/N. I was worried. Very worried».
You understand right away where he’s driving at: it’s obvious he won’t spare you a first-rate scolding, even if you’ve been awake only for a few minutes.
«Thorin…» you try to reason, but your sentence is cut off right away.
«No, Y/N, I don’t want to hear excuses» he anticipates you with firm voice. «Have you got any idea of how much you’ve risked back on the battlefield? You almost died» he adds in a flash.
«Almost» you remark, eyes fixed on him.
Your answer, anyway, makes you gain only a strict glare from the dwarf. You sigh, glancing down for a moment, then lifting your head with a determined expression.
«I would have never let Azog kill you. Never» you explain.
«So you thought dying in my place was a better idea».
«I was ready to do it, if necessary».
«But I wasn’t ready to lose you!» Thorin eventually yells, a note of desperation trembling in his angry tone.
Surprised by his reaction, you silently watch the dwarf as he springs on his feet and starts pacing back and forth, nervously rubbing his face with his hands and exhaling frustrated sighs.
«One second I’m fighting Azog and the next one you’re standing between us, with a sword right through your stomach!» he suddenly says, his eyes fixed on an empty space as if that scene was playing again right in front of him. «You have no idea of how I felt in that moment… I’ve never been so scared in my entire life» his voice trails off.
Those last few words make you understand how much he suffered. After all, you can’t blame him: you would act the same way if he risked his life for you. But when you open your mouth to say something, Thorin speaks again.
«Forgive me» he mutters, closing his eyes. He needed to vent to feel better, but now he realized he shouldn’t have screamed at you. Walking closer to you, he tries to explain himself, not hiding the regret in his eyes. «The thought of losing you… it’s unbearable. I’m angry for what you have done, but at the same time I’m grateful you did it, and I’m also extremely happy because you’re alive. I just… don’t know what to say».
You can’t help but smile as you realize once more how much he cares about you.
«A simple thank you would be enough» you joke, trying to lift the tension.
Thorin sighs once more and finally sits again by your side, taking your hand in his.
«Y/N…» he begins, stroking your palm. «… you didn’t save only me. You saved Kíli. You saved Fíli. You saved us all. After you killed their commander, the Orcs retreated in fear and only then we were able to slain them» he explains, his expression slightly relieved. «A lifetime of thank you wouldn’t be enough».
You squeeze his hand. «Well… a few right now would be a good start» you grin.
Lifting his head, Thorin notices your mischievous gaze: chuckling, he leans forward, resting on his elbows, so that his face is now a few inches from yours.
«Thank you» he whispers placing a kiss on your cheek. «Thank you» he repeats kissing the other one. «Thank you». A kiss on the forehead. «Thank you». A kiss on the tip of your nose. «Thank you» he finishes before resting his lips on yours.
Nothing could bring you away from him, that’s what you think as you deepen the kiss. Not a dragon, not an Orc, not Five entire Armies… nothing.
When you break apart, you notice Thorin is smiling again: the most radiant, beautiful smile you’ve ever seen on him.
«If I had to risk my life to get that smile… then it was totally worth it» you confess, hypnotized by how those blue iris are sparkling. «That’s the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on you» you continue ignoring his fake reproachful glare.
«Well… I have my family. I have my companions. I reclaimed Erebor, my long lost homeland. And I have you by my side. I couldn’t ask for more» he admits taking your hand again.
«And you have Azog’s head. Your revenge» you remember him.
«That’s your trophy, Y/N».
«But I took it for you, my King».
Thorin sighs, glancing down for a moment but setting his eyes on you right after.
«My reckless, impulsive and brave Queen» he smiles getting closer to you. «Men lananubukhs menu*» he whispers, kissing you again. When he stops, you lose yourself in his eyes for a moment, thinking that if time could stop in that instant, you would be the happiest person in Middle Earth.
«All right. You need to rest and recover, now» Thorin declares, moving to stand up. But despite being still stiff and tired, you’re quicker and you manage to grab his hand in time.
«Don’t leave» you beg softly, unwilling to let him go.
«I had no intention of going anywhere» he smiles.
Carefully, he climbs on the bed and lies down right beside you, passing his arm behind your neck and welcoming your head on his chest. Ignoring the slight pain coming from your bandaged wound, you curl up against him, closing your eyes.
«I love you too» you whisper back.