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42: Our Savior

Ravenhill was less smelly than the rest of the battlefield. It was only the six of us fighting Bolg's army of Orcs, so the blood didn't really get to my nose. I forced myself to stop running, compose myself, and feel. I could finally smell Thorin and his blood, so I sprinted towards it.

When I got to the scene, I had to keep myself from screaming; Thorin was on his back hanging off the edge of the icy waterfall. I sliced all the Orcs in front of me, and Thorin stood up with a sword in his hands. I ran to him and looked at his sword.

I asked, "Is that-"

"Orcrist?" He looked and nodded. "It is."

Thorin turned and put his arm in front of me. I looked down at his arm and back up at him. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself not to; my best friend was back. I turned to the figure in front us, and my heart stopped.

Azog pointed his sword at us, and a horn sounded in the distance. A smirk grew on the Orc's face, and I wished I could smack it off. More Orcs seemed to pile in from the north, and it vaguely registered with me that the Orcs Kili and Tauriel were fighting were not part of Bolg's army.

This was the exact reason why there was an abundance of Orcs. This was the reason why the Orcs won in the end... there were just too many. Two steel swords clashing blinked me out of my trance. Azog was so much bigger than Thorin, and I knew I needed to act, but I didn't know how.

The Defiler continued to throw his rock chain at Thorin, and the Dwarf King ducked and avoided the contraption. The ice kept cracking with every hit it received from the contraption, and Thorin tried slicing up Azog. His attempts didn't work because of the steel embedded and protruding from the Orc's back. I stabbed one of my daggers into Azog's back and he roared. He swung at me with quick speed and extreme force, and I had to wish myself next to Thorin to avoid his flying rock.

Thorin looked at me for a second before slamming me into the ice to avoid Azog's contraption. The contraption broke the ice apart, and we were all stumbling to find balance. Thorin embedded his sword into Azog's side, and the Orc roared in anger again. The Orc tried stabbing us, but we both leaned back to avoid him. His vision moved past us, and the Eagles voices rang in my head.

A smile crept on my face and I swished my daggers.

They brought Beorn. I thought. ... and Radagast.

Thorin's sword clanked on the ground, and Azog's attention turned back to us. I threw his rock at him, and he glared at us in confusion. We stepped off the broken ice, and the cold waters swallowed him in their midsts. The ice soundlessly uprighted, and Thorin and I stood on broken ice.

I let out a sigh and stared up at the sky. Strong arms held me, and I could only see black.

"I really, truly am sorry," Thorin told me quietly.

I replied, "I know."

I pulled back, smiled, and brought our foreheads together. We stayed like that for a minute.

"Move," I instructed.

He asked, "What?"

I shoved him to the side, turned around, and embedded my sword in Azog's skull. I sliced down and outward; his blood splattered on my face, and he fell, headless, to the icy floor. I stomped on the ice, and the water took him under once again.

In the time we hugged, Azog had successfully come up from the water. Maybe it was because of my heightened hearing, but I heard him come up a split second before he actually did. I didn't think I was going to end him in time, but I did.