The Sisters [A Hobbit Fanfiction]

Chapter 54

Thranduil clashed with an orc, the thrusts and parries exchanged with the speed of lightning and the fluidity of a waterfall. This orc appeared to be higher up and therefore more intelligent than his companions. However, he was still no match for an elf.

Their blades met, but instead of drawing back, the orc pressed forward, keeping the contact between their weapons and forcing Thranduil to return the pressure or die.

"Thranduil!" A voice shrieked out in warning and the elven king's head turned to see an orc's blade plunging towards him. There was not time to move or block.

Thranduil was suddenly shoved aside violently and he fell awkwardly. However, his elven reflexes kicked in and he rolled out of the fall, smoothing recovering and beheading both of the orcs who would have killed him.

It was only after his instinctive reaction that he noticed the tiny figure crumpled where he had previously been standing, the orc blade meant for him lodged in her shoulder.

Runa.

* * *

Out on the field, the battle raged fiercely and Gandalf's concern deepened. The orc's number were overwhelming; there was no end in sight.

"Gandalf," Sarabelle came running up to the grey wizard's side and he looked down at her in surprise.

"Sarabelle! What are you doing here? I thought you were in the healing tent."

"I am." She said, then paused. "Or I was. Doesn't matter, Nora sent me to tell you that Thorin is facing Azog."

"Where?" Gandalf demanded.

"Up on the cliffs," Sarabelle pointed to where the wizard had watched Thorin lead his troops not long ago.

"Where is Nora?" Gandalf asked urgently.

"She was at the healing tent -- she had brought Fili there -- but I think she was heading back out when she sent me to find you."

"Very well." Gandalf nodded. Then gave Sarabelle a reassuring smile. "You'd best head back young one."

Sarabelle nodded and took off.

Gandalf paused for a moment on his perch, hesitating. Then, off in the distance, movement caught his eye. He peered out toward the horizon for a long moment before his face suddenly cleared.

The eagles were coming.

* * *

"To me!" Thranduil called and several elves fell into position around him, protecting both him and Runa from the battle.

He fell to her side, his heart stopping for a moment as no immediately visible signs of movement were detected. Then her eyes fluttered weakly open.

"Runa..." Her name was a sigh of relief. She was alive.

"Glad you have enough sense to recognize me," was her weak retort. The echo of a smile flowed across Thranduil's face.

Then reality set in as the elven king's gaze was inevitably drawn back to the blade buried in Runa's shoulder.

"I'm going to have to pull it out." Thranduil said, his eyes sharp to gauge her reaction.

"I know," Runa said, her face still impassive.

"It's going to hurt."

"Yes it probably will, but it can't hurt more than getting stabbed in the first place and putting it off isn't going to change anything," she pointed out.

Their gazes locked for a moment, then Thranduil nodded and moved to wrap on hand around the blade's hilt. Bracing the other against her, he used one of his legs to pin Runa in place so she wouldn't squirm when he pulled the blade out and open the wound further.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes." For the first time, Thranduil thought he heard the girl's voice waver and he looked down at her in concern.

Seeing his gaze, Runa rolled her eyes, "I'm not a child Your Highness, I'll be fine."

"You're a child to me," Thranduil said. "I'm 6,582."

"And I'm 4,921." Thranduil looked down at her in disbelief.

"You look like a mere child!"

"Thank you, now hurry up and get this stupid sword out of me."

Thranduil blinked, then refocused, "Right." After shooting her one last look, he tensed and without warning yanked the blade out in one, fast, clean stroke.

Runa's scream ripped through the battle sounds and Thranduil visibly winced. However, he didn't allow himself to distracted and quickly set about staunching the flow of blood using a strip of cloth from his robe.

As he tied the last knot, his eyes flicked up to Runa's face to see her eyes scrunched shut, her face tense with pain, her clenched mouth allowing a streaming of elvish curses to slip past. Had Runa's eyes been open, she would have questioned her sanity as a flash of tenderness graced the elven king's face as he gazed at her.

However, her eyes were closed.

With the immediate disaster averted, Thranduil's uncharacteristic emotions came back, along with his highly characteristic temper.

"You foolish girl," he said, his expression darkening. "What do you think you are doing? You could have died! You still might..." The last bit was barely a whisper, a paradox of only the barest breath of air full of anger and sadness and pain and regret.

Runa opened her eyes as he began talking, an eyebrow quirking up, amused at this rare display of emotion.

"Exactly what I said I would," Runa replied calmly, wincing slightly as her wound throbbed again.

"What are you talking about?" Thranduil snapped as he began to pick her up.

"I told you," Runa voice was weakening as her body succumbed to blood loss.

"What did you tell me?" Thranduil demanded, trying to get his arms underneath her without jostling her wound too much.

"I'm going to keep those I love alive."

Thranduil froze with her half in his arms. He looked down to see her gazing steadily at him with clear, honest eyes.

"But... why?" was all he could managed.

"I'm not sure. And quite frankly, there's plenty of time to figure that out later. I'm kind of tired right now..."

"No, no, no, no, no! Don't you dare close your eyes." Thranduil's instinctive authority slipped back in as Runa's eyelids began to droop ominously.

"Oh course Your Majesty." Even on the brink of death, Runa managed to convey sarcasm perfectly. "Now hurry up and get me to a healing tent. I'm sick of being injured!"

With that mission in mind, Thranduil rose and quickly moved to his elk, cradling the small body of the girl who had saved his life to his chest.