Not Alone (A Frerin and Tharanel fanfic)

Not Alone

"We have to stick together through this war, no matter what." Thorin said.

Tharanel, Frerin, Keldar, Emmett, Ganin, and Darius nodded their heads in agreement. They had to stick together in this war, it was their duty though they were all too young to be facing such hardships. Tharanel had a really bad feeling about the battle and she was also afraid she would never see her young daughter, Mili, ever again. Although Tharanel was married to Thorin, Mili wasn't his child. When Tharanel was younger, she was hopping between Thorin and Frerin. She could never decide who to permanently be with. Eventually, Frerin got her pregnant and the next month, Thorin proposed to her. She was delighted by both events but she had to choose one brother over the other. Frerin told her to choose Thorin because Thorin was the future King of Erebor and Frerin couldn't bear the though of his brother hating him for life. Tharanel followed Frerin's advice but she couldn't deny her love for him. So here there she was, in love with her husband's brother, still. Tharanel was deep in though when she felt a something brush against her hand. She looked up into a pair of gold-flecked brown eyes and she felt her heart melt. She studied the handsome, blonde stubbled young face of Frerin. He was smiling at her but his eyes showed the truth. She saw hurt, fear, love, and a load of other emotions in that one look. He quickly looked away, remembering that she was not his and that she belonged to someone else, his brother. Frerin knew that Tharanel could never be his but he would always love her even if she didn't love him back.

"Don't worry Thara, we'll pull through this, I promise." Frerin said softly.

"You always have a horrible habit of breaking your promises." Tharanel murmured.

"Well, this time, I intend to keep it."

"You guys ready? Thorin asked, wrapping an arm around his little brother's shoulders.

"No, but lets get on with of, the enemy won't wait forever." Frerin said softly.

The Friends stood in the front line, weapons at the ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Frerin closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to steady his nerves. In his left hand, he held the horn that sounded the battle and in his right hand, he held his bow. He opened his eyes and looked up at his grandfather and father. They looked at him and nodded, signalling that he should blow the horn. Frerin looked out towards the horizon and saw the most orcs he had ever seen in his whole life.

"Don't worry little bro, I got your back,remember that." Thorin whispered, nudging his brother slightly.

Thorin kissed Tharanel quickly then focused on the horizon. Frerin raised the horn to his lips and blew the extremely loud but small instrument then he was followed other horns. After their third blow, Thror bellowed something in dwarfish and the army let out a fearsome cry to back him up. The dwarves' war cry was followed by the Orcish war cry which was even more horrifying. Before Frerin knew it, he was running into battle with his kin by his side. The battle was a bloody blur and Frerin occasionally saw a flying limb or weapon come into view. He had no idea how long they were fighting and he hadn't seen hair nor hide of any of his friends, family or even a random acquaintance. Suddenly, he heard a familiar cry of pain, Emmett. Frerin forced himself to come back to the real word but he wished he didn't. Blood drowned the battlefield, both red and black. The stench of copper, sulfur and death smothered the battlefield. Frerin heard that horrified cry again. Emmett needed help. Frerin fought his way through ranks of orcs and finally came across Emmett. He was too late. Emmett was dead. Savaged in every way possible. The poor boy was hardly recognizable. At Emmett's side laid his older triplet brother, Keldar. He was on the verge of death himself though he was crying. Frerin felt anger burn through his veins and he killed ever orc that came in sight. He stopped when he heard another cry.