Ya'aburnee

Bloodline

As he spoke, a thumping of marching came to their ears, a line of soldiers coming up over the hill, the sun behind them. An army from the Iron Hills.

"Ironfoot." Gandalf muttered. The dwarves on the wall began cheering for their kin, Thranduil shouting to his men in Elvish, all turning to face the new threat, marching towards it. A dwarf riding a boar led them, riding down in front, holding his axe high. Olivia rushed with Gandalf and Bilbo towards the new front. "Who is that?" Bilbo asked, jogging to keep up with the wizard and his apprentice. "He doesn't look very happy."

"It is Dain," Gandalf told him. "Lord of the Iron Hills. Thorin's cousin."

"Are they alike?" Bilbo asked.

"I have always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two." Gandalf told them both.

"Lovely." Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Good morning!" A thick Scottish accent greeted them. "How are we all?" Dain reached the top of a small rock, a little too cheery to be riding into battle. "I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a moment of your time. Would ya consider... just sodding off?!" The people of Laketown shifted back nervously. Understandable, as an angry dwarf is one of the scariest things one can encounter. "All of you! Right now!"

"Stand fast!" Bard ordered, the people reluctantly holding their ground.

"Oh come now, Lord Dain," Gandalf stepped forwards, flanked by  Liv.

"Gandalf the Grey." Dain replied, catching sight of him. "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 argued, walking forwards further. "A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!"

"I will not stand down before any elf." Dain argued. "Not least this faithless woodland sprite! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people!" Olivia raised her eyebrows. He wasn't really wrong about that. "If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!" The dwarves in the mountain cheered and laughed,

Thranduil prided himself on his 'composure,' and seemed proud whenever he could push the buttons of the dwarves so they would behave 'irrationally' while he appeared the calm and reasonable one, though he was just as much to blame for this petty squabble as the dwarves were. 

"He's clearly mad, like his cousin." Thranduil maintained a cool façade.

"No," Olivia snapped, turning over her shoulder to the king. "He's exactly right about you. Now shut up, before you make things any worse!"

Gandalf put his hand on Olivia's shoulder, shushing her. "And who's this spitfire lass?" Dain asked with a laugh.

Thranduil cut off her response, taunting the dwarves further. "She is wrong, you know. You're mad, all of you."

"You hear that lads?" Dain called back to the army. "We're on!" He spurred the boar back towards the group, leading them forwards. "Let's give these bastards a good hammering!" The group shouted in Khuzdul, raising their shields, preparing to march forwards. The elves danced backwards into their ranks, raising their shields and holding spears out towards the oncoming line of Dwarves. Olivia did not move to raise her weapon.

Her gaze drew from the ranks of the elves and dwarves towards the rumbling in the hill to the southeast. "Were-worms..." Gandalf muttered in fearful awe. Great, horrible heads and snapping jaws broke through the rock, pulling back to open tunnels through the hill.

"Oh come on," Dain grumbled. 

Bilbo put his hand over his shoulder nervously, Olivia squeezing his other shoulder comfortingly, smiling down at the halfling reassuringly, although worried herself. A familiar grating voice came through the air. Azog, shouting orders in black-speech at his army, from Ravenhill, towards the north west, in the direction of Gundabad.

The hordes poured from the tunnels in the hill, Dain riding forwards towards the new, bigger threat. "The hordes of hell are upon us! To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!" A rank of dwarf soldiers moved around to protect the mountain from the south, the elves and men standing by, doing nothing.

"The elves," Bilbo said. "Will they not fight?"

Olivia stepped forwards, Gandalf reaching for her, but her arm just slipping from his grasp as she rushed forwards, following the line of dwarves, her sword unsheathing with a metallic ringing. She would not let them stand alone.

The sound of metal armor grew loud in her ears. She had nothing to protect her but her sword, and her heart, beating proudly in her chest as she quickly reached the rank of Dwarves, Dain looking over in surprise as she joined his ranks. "Could you use another sword!?" She shouted over the clamor, and he grinned.

"Always!" Before he could ask more, another thing caught them off guard. Just as they steadied themselves to be hit by the wave of orcs, a line of elves leapt over the shields in the front, diving into the fray, and for the first time since the first age, Dwarves and Elves fought together against a common enemy.

The chaos was unlike anything she had witnessed yet, and how she survived more than a few seconds, she did not know. Still, she let out a great yell, using all she had learned from Gandalf, and from what the dwarves had taught her, managing to stay alive, cutting down orcs with her blade.

She felt an odd peace wash over her, adrenaline taking the wheel, the noise of the world fading out as she fell into focus. For the first time, she could actually feel the magic of the blade, coursing through her, guiding her movement. How had she not noticed it before? The blade knew her, like an extension of her own flesh and blood, moving with her like a piece of her own body.

A blaring of a horn drew her attention for a split second, glancing towards Dale before disemboweling a new enemy. The second phase of the attack was underway. The army was being split.

She nodded as the men of Dale split off to defend the city, focusing again on the chaos around her. Within minutes, the city was on fire, snowflakes falling and turning red and black as they hit the ground, running with blood.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Dain had lost his steed, being surrounded by orcs. She pushed through quickly to help him, standing back to back with this stranger, fighting for their lives.

"Where's Thorin!?" He cried out. "We need him! Where is he!?"

"He'll be here! He'll come!" Olivia replied, though he had not expected her to respond, or even know who Thorin was. He didn't know that she had traveled with the company. "I know he will!"

"What's your name lassie?" The dwarf asked her.

"Olivia!" She called back. "Daughter of Kit." This was for her mother.