A War Not Yet Won {Thorin Oakenshield Sequel to My Heart My Mountain My King}

Chapter 18 - Enchantments

My mind raced. Were Legolas and Strider going to return for me? Or were they going to go through with Strider's plan?

I leaned my head against the damp, stone wall and gulped. I could only pray that I would be rescued before the Defiler, well, defiled me. I knew it was inevitable. That's why he gained his title, after all.

Wait, before someone rescued me? I thought. I am Jaedda Thorn, the fierce Nymph Warrior. One of three remaining in the entire world. And the last female.

The last female. I bowed my head as I thought about how poorly I had treated Thorin those last few days. How could I have been so selfish? Thinking about having a child with someone else. I don't even want children. I had decided. Children were completely off of the table for right now. My only focus was to get out of this godawful cell.

I looked up at my wrists that were chained and cuffed to the dank, stone wall behind me. The only pair of keys I had seen were on the loin cloth of one of the Orcs, and keys looked like the only things that I could used to get out of the restraints. I let out a defeated groan as I began to violently shake the chains that reeked of Thorin's blood and cry out in agony as they began to dig into my wrists, causing them to peel off the skin.

After several minutes of futile screaming and struggling, I finally gave up the hope that I could wiggle free, despite how tiny I was. These cuffs were made for dwarves' wrists, and though their hands and arms were larger than man's, my own could still not slip through.

They could be enchanted... I thought. I quickly began to whisper every curse, spell and enchantment that Gandalf had ever taught me, in hopes that perhaps they had been cursed and I could worm my way out. But to no avail. Nothing that I tried worked and I smashed the cuffs against the walls repeatedly in astringent frustration. I cried against the wall as my wrists feverishly burned in throbbing pain. I sank to the ground in sheer and utter defeat, accepting the fact that I could never escape on my own.

I wandered where Thorin, Kili and Fili had gone. Were Kili and Tauriel reunited yet? Did they even make it out of the mountain alive, or did Azog ambush them again? Were Legolas and Strider going to get help? Questions raced through my mind as I could feel infection over take the injuries in my wrists and I slipped into an overwhelming sense of delirium. My head was burning up and likely resembled the color of a rose by then, and my throat had begun to swell. Chapped were my lips that so desperately craved water, and I could feel the skin inside my nose crack with each breath I inhaled.

This wasn't normal. Infection and fever shouldn't set in this fast. It should take a couple of days, even maybe a week for symptoms to occur. I was convulsing and hallucinating and I didn't even understand why. It suddenly dawned on me that not only the cuffs were cursed, but that the whole cell, if not the entire mountain was cursed along with it.

Suddenly rising up, I began to chant the spells again, only this time changing some of the words to better fit the character of the circumstances of the situation that I had come to realize. After several minutes of chanting, I was about to give up, until the last one finally worked.

It felt, at first, as though a heavy burden was being lifted off of my chest, as though I could suddenly breath again after getting over the sniffles. The compression inside of my head began to vanish and all of my thoughts were clear.

What I was saying was hardly a chant, but rather a song. An elvish song that I learned so long ago, even before the Orcs destroyed my people. Even the stones on the wall began to look less dingy. I looked down to see that my wrists had slipped through the cuffs. The cuffs dangled near the floor attached to the chains and hung like witches that met the gallows. I was free.

Looking up, I walked up to the black bars of the prison cell. They seemed to be almost glimmering, waving back and forth like a great heat was acting upon it. I reached my hand out to touch one of them, but it fell right through, causing the bars to disappear at once altogether. Smiling like a fool and in disbelief, I walked out of the cell and looked back and forth. There had to be Orc scouts around somewhere, but I couldn't seem to spot any of them. Perhaps the song be rid of them as well.

I broke into a sprint down the way of which I had come with Azog and made my way up and up and up the large stone stair ways, climbing higher up from the depths of the Lonely Mountain.

I found myself in the middle of the treasury. I stepped inside of the sea of golden coins and nearly tripped as I tried to walk across it. I could hear Orcs prowling just above, the sound of black speech echoing off of the mountain hall's walls. My heart race soared as I started to walk more cautiously along the gold laden floor.

I knew that I couldn't possibly escape through the main gates without being seen, and I knew this mountain fairly well. Thorin had told me every exit and entrance in case of emergencies, and the only one was the grand gates.

No... I thought. The secret door.

Swiftly turning, as carefully as I could, I sped through the many rooms of treasure to where I knew that the secret tunnel was. Eventually, what seemed like years, I reached it, nearly out of breath and out of strength. I climbed up one last flight of stairs to reach it, and made my way out of the dark tunnel and stepped into the harsh day light.

The sun stung my eyes for a brief moment. I brought a hand up to shield them from the light and looked about, down at the valley and towards Dale. A warm feeling of relief rushed over my heart. I saw the Dwarfish armies of the Iron Hills, and the Elvish troops of Lothlorien and Rivendell, as well as Dunedain Rangers and a militia from Greenwood. They were ready to revolt against Azog and the Necromancer. And I was ready to help. I wanted my home back.

My mountain.

No, I wasn't going to be selfish any more. There was no reason for me to be. Teodric was dead. And over the years, I had grown to loathe myself from having an affair with Tasar. There was no way I would ever to go back to his filth, and I would never bear his children. So no, it was not my mountain.

I wanted our mountain back. And we were going to get it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

HEYYY FAM...I'm so sorry I haven't updated this in like......how many months? 9? I hate myself.

I really want to finish this fanfic this year, I'm suddenly feeling inspired again! I'm also working on my Frodo one again, and I'm going to pick up the Legolas one again here sometime soon.

One reason for my inactivity is boy drama. The one thing for the girls reading this is: FUCKBOYS SUCK DICKS AND DONT EVER FALL FOR ONE OR TRUST ONE OK THEY WILL BREAK YOUR HEART AND NOT EVEN GIVE A DAMN SO DONT FALL FOR IT OK PLS FAM. ESPECIALLY IF THEY LED U ON ONCE AND THEN TRIED TO DO IT AGAIN AND U ACTUALLY FELL FOR IT A SECOND TIME HOLY SHIT I AM STUPID LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES CHILDREN THANK YOU

Also, I started making some vlogs on YouTube, so if you want to subscribe and help me build up a fanbase, please do, my YouTube name is just Allison Cleman and if you want to, also subscribe to my music channel where I post my original songs:)

I'll be updating again soon so stay tuned. Luv u:)