Emerge the Dragonborn | The Hobbit

Chapter 12 - Final Exit

The Great Eagles flew overhead, their majestic forms casting long shadows over the battlefield below. The clash of swords and the cries of war had finally ceased, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. The battle was over. They were victorious, though at a great price.

Anaynah lay beside Fili's motionless figure. Her touch was gentle upon his cold cheek, her bloodied fingers lingering over the contours of a face once brimming with life. With reverence, she clasped his unmoving hand, as if seeking to restore warmth to his chilled form. The air seemed to hold its breath, heavy with the weight of their shared journey and the profound loss now etched upon her face.

Memories cascaded through her mind like a bittersweet river—the battles fought shoulder to shoulder, the quiet moments of camaraderie that now felt like fragile treasures. Here, amidst the stone and silence, she held onto those memories, unwilling to let go.

Gandalf approached quietly, his staff held reverently in both hands. His voice, tinged with sorrow, broke the silence that enveloped them.

"They are starting to gather the fallen. Fili will need to be taken to Erebor, to be laid to rest among his kin," Gandalf spoke gently, unsure how his words would be received.

Anaynah gave no immediate response, her grip on Fili's hand tightening ever so subtly.

Gandalf took a step closer, now seeing her bloodshot eyes and stained cheeks. He had never seen her in such a broken state, for this pain was unlike any.

"It is time to let him go," he said softly, knowing the pain she bore.

"I'm not ready," Anaynah whispered, her voice barely audible, carrying the weight of her sorrow and reluctance to part ways with her friend and companion in her arms.

"Nothing can ready you for this. No one is ever ready."

"I am scared, Gandalf. I don't know how to do this." Her voice trembled.

"You will not be alone. You will never be alone, Anaynah."

Anaynah looked up at Gandalf, whose eyes held a mixture of sympathy and solemn understanding. His nod was gentle, a silent acknowledgment of the pain that gripped her heart as she knelt beside Fili's lifeless form. Her fingers traced the intricate braid she herself had woven into his hair.

"Yes," she whispered to Fili as if he could hear her, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "My answer is yes." Then, overwhelmed by grief, she broke into sobs, her words choked with emotion.
"I would have been your queen," she managed to say between her tears, her head resting on Fili's chest, hiding her face from view.

Gandalf stood in stunned silence as his eyes widened, realising only now what Fili had asked of her. He knew the love he had for her but did not think he would ever confess it.
He had seen many battles and witnessed countless tragedies, yet each loss still carried its unique sorrow.

Anaynah lifted her head, turning to face Fili once more. With tender reverence, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, savouring the fleeting warmth that remained.
It was their first kiss, yet Fili was not alive to experience it. And their last. A final testament to their love. The kiss was tender and bittersweet, a fleeting moment of intimacy in the midst of death's cold embrace. She lingered, as if willing warmth back into his lifeless form, her fingers caressing his cheek with a tenderness that spoke of a love unfulfilled.
Slowly, she tore her lips away from his.

Gandalf's eyes softened with understanding, his weathered face reflecting the weight of her words. He had seen the spark of hope in their eyes and witnessed the courage with which they faced the darkness together. Now, all that remained was the echo of what could have been, a future stolen by the harsh realities of battle.