Chapter Text
The battlefield seemed endless. Blood made the ground muddy and slippery. She stumbled for a moment before regaining her footing. An orc took the opportunity as he swung his rusty sword at her. She could duck out of the way and with one clean strike separated his head from the body.
She made her way through the sheer endless masses of fighting orcs and dwarrows. On her way she focused on chopping off arms and legs, hands and feet, making her enemies unable to flee or hold their weapons any longer.
Frantically her eyes searched the sea of heads and hair for her brothers. At least Dwalin would stand out, tall as he is. They had to be here somewhere. They couldn’t have possibly been killed by these few orcs. She trusted them and their ability.
Something heavy collided with her back, forcing out all the air from her lungs. Face first she landed in the mud. She rolled away, just in time to avoid the axe which now was plunged in the ground next to her. With her shield she deflected the dagger but not without it scratching her cheek and ear.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her blood boiled. Fear and rage fought like ice and fire in her heart. She pushed the creature off her and scrambled up with her remaining strength.
Her breath was heavy and fast, her eyes focused on the ugly creature. Mahal, she had never seen such an ugly one. Teeth all over the place, one ear missing and the other one looking as if someone had chewed on it. The left eye was yellow-ish while where the right one was supposed to be, nothing but a poorly stitched up hole was left.
It screamed in a high pitched voice, charging head on in her direction. Before she could react an arrow plunged itself into the chest of the orc. The result was the orc falling face first in the mud this time and slowly sliding towards her. She looked around for the archer and spotted a young (he looked young at least) familiar, blond elf on top of a rock. She nodded, thanking him before she continued the search for her brothers.
In the distance, yes, right between two wargs and some goblins she could spot a familiar hat. Even worse off than as she had last seen it. Two brown twin braids bounced happily as he swung his weapon up and let it crash down on the goblins head.
It took some time, and a lot of hacking, stabbing and slicing on her part, to finally reach the hatted dwarf. Sliding, she nearly crashes into him. He grabbed her arm, stabilizing her. For a split second his brown eyes just stared at her. Disbelief all over his face.
“Freya?! What by Mahal’s beard are you doing here?!” his knuckles crashed into the ribcage of a nearing foe.
“Such a grand war! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she smiled.
Strengthening her grip around his forearm she straightened herself, leaning in a bit and giving him a light kiss on the cheek, before she let go, positioning herself back to back with Bofur.
“I missed you, drunkhead. We both did,” her blade swung down, cleaving through flesh and bone, while black blood tinted her clothing and splattered on her face.
“Aye, as did I. Wait… you brought him here? Is he save, is F-”
“Yes,” she interrupted him, “I left him with a good friend of mine. He is safe... Have you seen my brothers?”
~
Raven hill was strangely quiet for the center of a battlefield. There were no cries, no blood, no enemies. How unusual. Her blade readyed she continues her path upwards. Up here it was colder and even a bit of snow lay here and there in the corners of the ruins.
Suddenly a hand grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth, dragging her off into the shadows of a broken wall. She fought against the strong grip, ending up biting into the fingers until she tasted blood. The hand that covered her mouth vanished in an instant, but the strong grip around her waist remained.
“Oh, bloody… Are ye crazy lad? What are ye doing up here?!” rumbled a low voice near her ear.
She stopped her attempts to break free and turned her head around. Her lips parted into a grin, teeth still reddened from his blood. With a playful glint in her eyes, she crashed her forehead against his.
“Hello nadad ! Have you grown old? Can’t even recognise your own sister!” satisfied she spotted a red dot where their heads collided.
Dwalin’s eyes widened as he seemed to finally recognise her. His mouth opened and closed like a fish on the land. His arm around her waist started to tremble while his other hand gently reached for her face. His rough, calloused fingers glided over her jaw and cheek. He stopped to tuck a strand of her wild hair behind her ear. A growl escaped his throat as he spotted the deep slit over her cheek and ear.
“Who dared to injure you namad ? I will make sure his death is painful and he dies pleading and screaming.”
She smiled at his protective behaviour. She truly had missed the firm warrior. He had always been there to protect her from others and especially from any possible suitor she may have had.
“I nearly didn’t recognise you without your mohawk,” her free hand patted his -now bald- head, “it suits you.”
Her brother grumbled something into his beard, before he let her slip out of his grip. She squatted down beside him, so both of them were shielded by a large collapsed wall. In Iglishmek she signed him ’22 kills’. He sighted, shaking his head but answered non the less with ‘31’.
Their silent conversation was rudely interrupted by two figures darting out from a dark entrance which led deeper into the ruins. They were followed by a dozen screeching orcs, the blond elf she had seen before and another red haired elven woman.
“Are those Fili and Kili?!” she hissed in her brother's direction, “Dis will kill both you and Thorin if they come home with more than a scratch! If they make it…” the last sentence she said more to herself than to him.
Jumping forth behind their cover she waves for them to come over to her. The red haired elf spotted her first and directed the others into her direction.
“Aunt Freya?! What are you doing here?” Fili was the first one to reach them while the elves held off the orcs.
“Auntie?” Kili was visibly confused to see her here, “I thought you were- Why are you here?”
“Look at my two favorite trouble makers, bringing with them such a fine gift. With that I have a chance to surpass my brother’s kill-count,” she gave both of them a kiss on the cheek as she stepped past them facing their enemy, “ Not a single word to your mother.”
~
Left? Right? Where could he have gone to? These ruins were like a labyrinth. She could have sworn she passed this corner for the third time. In the far distance she heard the clashing from metal on metal.
Up. She had to get further up.
With every step she took the fighting sounds became louder. She could hear the angry roar of her king, followed by a disgusting laughter and a hollow impact.
As she reached the top, an open space like a plateau with cliff-like edges leading all the way down onto the battlefield, she spotted Thorin almost immediately. He was unsteadily sliding over the frozen river, avoiding the heavy impacts of a large metal ball. The weapon got nearer and nearer with each swing of the king's enemy.
Frantically she searched for a fast way down. The stairs had collapsed and the side of the hill was too steep to climb down. From her position there was no other way but to jump over the remaining parts of the stairs. Pacing up and down she stole glances at the raging fight underneath. There was no time! She looked at the stairs once again, weighing her arguments against one another.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a green blurr rushing past her. The blond elf she had seen before, who shot the orc and saved her and who seemed to have an interest in saving Fili and Kili. Before the elf could reach the broken stairs she called out to him.
“Hey, blondie!” his head swung around, ice-blue eyes staring at her, one brow arched up, “do me a favor and get me somehow down to the fight.”
He brought her down, yes, and she would never talk about it again. Riding on the back of an elf and clinging onto such a frail being. How could they even survive being as thin as a stick? Well, he does have beautiful hair… for an elf that is.