9

Thorin and Talia stood on the ramparts overlooking the gates to the fortress city, watching the common people mill about in Dale some distance away alongside the guards. He had come to visit briefly before they went their separate ways for the day; Talia would stay here as Head of the Guard and Thorin would go deeper into the mountain to conference with his grandmother. Their expressions were that of peace, yet their faces held no mention of a smile like they had in their previous years. The young couple was worn with responsibilities, yes, but those responsibilities had only made them stronger. Balin smiled as they interlocked hands, watching from his own post on the ramparts.

That was when they heard it.

The prior serenity of the morning was whisked away in the harsh wind, it's force creaking and snapping the forest's trees in the distance. The sound was like a hurricane. Flags whipped in the air as their wooden posts moaned from the wind against them. Pines on the mountain itself began to give way, bending at the wind hailing from the North. Exclamations of surprise and murmurs surface among the guards as they shielded their faces from the wind, looking to their prince for explanation.

"Thorin," Talia looked to him, the pit of fear in her stomach growing by the minute. "These are no winds of a natural calamity."

It was then that realization dawned upon him. "Balin, sound the alarm. Talia, call out the rest of the guard. Do it now!"

"What is it?" Balin asked hurriedly as Talia barked out the order.

Thorin could only spare a grave glance his way. "Dragon. Dragon!" He roared into the kingdom below.

That was the very moment that all hell broke loose. Smaug, the last firedrake of the North, had come for his prize; the gold within the mountain. The dragon's body sailed over them, launching it's attack on Dale with nothing but dragon fire. He yearned for that gold with a dark and fierce desire, like all dragons did. It was much so that the cities outside and inside the mountain meant nothing to him, including their people.

Talia gasped as Dale was hit with it's first blow of white-hot flame, the screams of the city's population erupting in a frenzy. She grabbed Thorin's forearm, stopping him from following the dwarves away from the ramparts and inside the gates. "I must go to Dale!"

"Talia, no!" He roared over the wind, both of them jumping and ducking low as another building was hit in the city behind them. "We must fight! I'm not going to lose you, not like this."

"The only way to pierce a dragon's hide is with a Black Arrow, and the only ones the Guard knows of are in that burning city!" She screamed back, pointing a shaking finger behind her to Dale. "We cannot launch an attack without them. If we are to kill this beast, I must go to Dale!"

"Talia, it's too—"

"For my mother!"

Those words stopped Thorin short, making him turn to look at her. Tears ran down her face, her eyes desperate and wild.

"This is my only chance to save her. Please."

After a moment's hesitation, Thorin pulled her into a fierce hug, pressing a rushed kiss to her lips and holding her close. "Come back to me."

Talia broke her forehead from his, dropping her hands from his neck. "I promise." She whispered, gripping the rope leading outside the ramparts before tearing her gaze away from him.

She jumped, letting the rope run loose through her hands as she slid down the gates, breaking into a run the second her feet hit the ground. She gasped at the wind in her hair, wiping her tears away as she ran, the adrenaline pounding through her system. In no time, she had reached Dale, rushing in and making a break for the highest tower in the city, where she knew the weapons were hidden.

The attack on the city had already devastated it. Talia backpedaled into an alley as Smaug scorched the center marketplace with his flame, pressing her back into the wall as she felt it's heat through the stone. Again she started to run, ducking as the boulders of buildings crushed civilians and the flames of the firebreather burned body after body. The smell of singed flesh and death reached her senses, causing her to grimace as she raced up the stairs of her destination.

But before she could reach the bow herself, she stopped short to see a man already standing there, readying arrow after arrow and letting them fly. He donned the attire of the Lord of Dale, his black hair whipping in the wind. Each time he missed, yet she could see the determination in his eyes, set in stone.

She knew she should run, but she was transfixed by the figure before her. Something about his movements seemed so familiar, so natural to her that she gasped as soon as the memory hit her.

"Girion! How could you take her hunting? The girl is barely four!" Theresa snapped upon their arrival, the man sighing as he helped his daughter shrug off her cloak.

"The wild is a dangerous place, Theresa. I only want her prepared."

"Ma, it was fun! I learned how to shoot a bow and arrow!" The young girl piped up, but was immediately quieted by her father. Something in the look he gave her told her that her words had not been all too helpful.

"Hush, Talia. I have had quite enough of your father. Coming home drunk, staggering in the bedroom like a fool. Who do you think you are? What example are you setting for our daughter?"

"Theresa, please. Not in front of her—"

"No, Girion! Things have already been hard enough for us, with what the neighbors think and all. The town says that we are forever cursed, you and I, and that I mooch off of your status to survive! Maybe, after all of these years, they were right about us. Or about you, at least."

"Theresa, enough!"

"We are not the same, you and I. Man and dwarf." Theresa scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know what we were thinking. It was never worth it. We were cursed from the very start."

"It was always worth it, Theresa. It was worth everything to me."

"You are not the man I married."

"I thought we were in love."

"Not anymore." Theresa concluded, wiping a tear away with her hand. "Go. Don't come back."

Girion spared one more look at her before turning to his daughter, kneeling down in front of the crying child. "If you remember but one thing, Talia, remember this; the drinking, the women, none of it was your fault. Not a damn thing. It was only a hole I could not fill within myself."

Talia cried into the hand that cupped her cheek. "Don't go, Da. Please."

"I love you, Talia." The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the distraught mother and the sobbing daughter alone. Truly alone, as they would remain until the end of their days.

"Father?"

The figure turned away from his bow to face her, his back steeling at the name. The woman before him was not what he had expected to see, but it was undeniably her. After all of these years, it was really her.

"Talia?"

But before she could say another word, the building next to them fell apart, the CRASH! of Smaug's enormous tail against it rattling them both. He was tossing the stones aside like they weighed nothing. Both of them dove to the floor as the structure below them quivered, only rising once the shadow passed over them.

"Talia, you must go!" Girion urged, readying the second to last arrow of his supply in the bow. "I know you have come to kill the dragon, but that is my duty as Lord of Dale, and mine alone. I will not fail you, my child. Go to your mother!"

Talia inhaled at the mention of her kin. She was lost in time and space, as all around her seemed to slow to a stop.

"Talia."

Her attention returned to her father. Her mother had lied; they were never of Elvish descent. She had hoped that her daughter would forget Girion, forget the blood of Men running through her veins. But how could she, when the only person with the same colored eyes as hers stood before her? His green orbs stared into her own with earnest. Begging.

"Go."

And so she flew down the steps and past Girion, running again through the burning streets as she felt the rumble of the dragon's roar beneath her. She never stopped her breakneck pace until she reached her home, collapsing against the door and breathing heavily. Pushing it open, she turned to see her mother right before her, cowering in fear as she tied her cloak to her with trembling hands.

"Ma, come on." Talia said, grabbing her mother's hand. But the elderly woman gave her a look, one that broke Talia's heart in two.

"I will only slow you down. Go ahead of me. I'll meet you at the forest."

The words that came out of her mouth were all lies, and Talia knew it. "Ma," She growled, "I am not leaving you. Come on!"

The pair raced down the streets as fast as their feet would carry them. Theresa wheezed at the effort, but Talia urged her on, begging the gods for her safety. But just before they reached the gates, they froze in place at the gut-wrenching screams that sounded just ahead of them. This was not the sound of one dying of fright or fire, no, this was the sound emitted when a dragon's teeth pierced through one's skin.

Smaug was feasting.

The women watched in horror as Smaug grabbed another man in his jaws, clamping down as the man screamed in agonizing pain. He laughed at the taste of his bleeding flesh, licking his lips as he grinned. The dragon was now standing right in front of the women, and he was enormous. His shadow, cast over dozens of buildings behind them, concealed them from his vision.

Or so they thought.

Smaug's brilliant orange eye fell upon them, narrowing as he made up his mind on his next prey. "Ah," He gasped, the women frozen in fright before them. "Young and old, I see. Let us begin with the eldest of the two, shall we? Don't want her to die from fright first." His jaws began to open as he slowly crept towards them, finally lunging for Theresa.

But Talia refused to give up that easily.

Talia let out a guttural cry as she let her dagger fly free, throwing it with all of the force and might that she could muster. And sure enough, the aim of the Butcher of Beasts was true. The blade embedded itself right in the eye that had stared them down not moments ago, causing the beast to howl in pain. He closed his eye, hobbling around and knocking down a few buildings in the process. But once his fit was done, his body froze quicker than any could've anticipated, turning back to face the woman.

"You."

Talia stared wide-eyed as the beast opened it's mouth, his throat glowing with the flame that he would soon unleash.

"Ma, run!"

"No, Talia. I'm tired of running."

Theresa dealt a swift kick to Talia's chest just as Smaug roared, forcing her daughter out of harm's way just as the dragon fire hit her. Talia rolled away, hitting a pile of debris as more wood fell from it's source, concealing her from sight. She screamed from afar as her mother was burnt alive, reduced to a pile of ash before her eyes.

"DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE ME, TALIA." Smaug roared upon hearing her name, flapping his wings and flying above the city once more. "YOUR HEROISM HAS DEMANDED A PRICE, A PRICE WHICH YOU WILL PAY IN BLOOD. YOU WILL ALL BURN! ALL WILL PERISH AT THE HEAT OF MY FLAME!"

The dragon reared it's ugly head, disappearing as soon as it had come. But when Talia stood, following it's trail, she saw he was not retreating from his wounded eye, no...

It was headed straight for the mountain.

...

Thorin's ranks broke as soon as Smaug had burst through the gates, bending the metal under his massive claws like it was nothing. He ducked, hearing the roar of dragon fire as he rolled away with his sword in hand, standing. Some of his fellow dwarves had already been scalded beyond repair, their bodies now charred into ash. But before he could chance his own survival, the prince set out to find Thror, running back into the halls. He coughed against the smell of the burning dead, covering his mouth with one hand and wielding his sword with another. Finally, he found Thror fumbling with the Arkenstone in his fear, staring the dragon right in the eyes. Behind him, Thorin saw his grandmother's hand sprawled on the floor, her body crushed under stone.

"SMAUG!" Thorin bellowed from behind him, motioning his grandfather to run to him while the beast swung around to face the source of the voice.

"Thorin, son of Thrain," The dragon laughed as his eyes landed on the prince, one bleeding nastily from a dagger still embedded within it. "Son of Thror." His untouched eye landed on the King, who had reached his grandson's side, but Thorin was too focused on the dagger stuck in the other.

Talia's dagger.

"At last, we meet. And at last," Smaug grinned, his stomach glowing orange as it readied his flame, "You die."

But Thorin and the King had already fled to the back of a nearby pillar, the prince shielding himself and his grandfather from harm as the fire on either side threatened to melt the skin off of their faces. Smaug waited for them to move, and when they did not, he chose not to pursue them any further. Even if it was the line of Durin itself, the dragon was all too close to his prize to care whether or not they lived or died. He knew they would not follow him or pose any more threat. He turned away from them, again leaping into the air and flying off.

"We will meet again, young prince! I am sure of it!" The dragon roared, laughing maliciously as he dove away from them and towards the gold below.

"Let's go!" Thorin yelled over the screams and fire, urging his grandfather on. But something caused the King to fight against Thorin's pull, causing the prince to turn around.

"The stone, Thorin! The Arkenstone!"

Thorin growled at the ramblings of the old man, yanking him away from his treasure and to safety. They continued to flee, finally reaching the gates which the dragon had desolated mere minutes ago. As they hobbled across the bridge, Thorin looked up to the hills to his right, noticing what most had not in their escape. Thranduil, the Elven King himself, rode on his massive elk, he and his armies watching the destruction the dragon had caused a once great people. Thorin waved his arm in urgency. "HELP US!"

But Thranduil did not move. Thorin's jaw dropped in disbelief, his hold on his grandfather tightening as the realization dawned upon him. "NO!"

The Elf King signaled to his army, turning his back to the burning city and kingdom before him. The Elves followed behind him, marching away. No help would come from the Elves, not when Thranduil was posed with the dilemma of risking the lives of his own people.

Thorin tore his gaze away from the hills, urging his grandfather on along with the thousands of others fleeing from the city. They traveled for what felt like ages, reaching the outskirts of Dale where the other survivors had regrouped near the forest line.

People milled about the forest, seeking their friends and family above all else. Dwarves and men alike all wandered the masses in search of someone, though no relief was brought to them once they found one another. Families held each other, crying and mourning those who had not returned from the city, covered in soot and ash from head to toe. The people of Dale and Erebor had been brought low from tragedy. Thorin knew he would have to lead them soon.

Finally, he caught sight of his father, bringing his grandfather with him as they shared a hurried embrace. His siblings were not far behind; Thorin knelt to catch little Dis, who was sobbing uncontrollably and crying out words he could not understand.

"What's she saying?" He whispered to Frerin, who stood before them.

His brother could only stare somberly back as Dis buried her head in Thorin's neck. "It's Ma. She didn't make it."

Thorin's eyes stung at the news. But for now, he pushed the tears back, knowing he had to be strong for his kin. He pulled his brother in a long embrace with their little sister sandwiched between them. They weren't sure how long they stayed there for, but the spell was broken when he remembered another he had to search for. Handing Dis to Frerin, he left to look for her, his heart aching with horrid thoughts and possibilities.

He found Balin and Dwalin first, embracing them both quickly. But before he could ask, the same question came from Balin.

"Where's Talia?"

"Wasn't she with you?"

Based on his silence, they got their answer. Seeing the desperation in Thorin's eyes, the three wordlessly split to look for Talia, scanning the masses and weaving through the people. Ten minutes into their search, each dwarf grew more and more concerned; she was clearly not amongst them. Then, not a few moments after returning to the edge of the crowd, Thorin saw her.

Talia hobbled along the plains as she walked from Dale, now a sole traveler journeying to rejoin her people. This far into the aftermath, no more people were running from the city; none except her. Her clothes were singed and blackened, and she walked with a limp. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes scanned the masses, begging for one familiar face. Finally, she saw him.

Thorin ran as fast as his legs would allow, closing the short distance between them as she did the same, wincing with every step. As soon as they reached each other, he caught her shaking frame in his arms, her body wracked with sobs. She cried into his shoulder, both in relief and in pain. As her tears stained his shirt, he realized why; she was alone.

"Talia..." He began, but she was so far gone that he was convinced she could barely hear him.

"Thorin." She clutched on to him tighter, her response surprising him.

He pressed a tentative kiss to her forehead, sighing deeply and holding her close. "I thought I'd lost you." He mumbled into her temple, willing his voice to stay steady.

"I keep my promises, don't I?" She choked out, tearing her cheek off of his chest and looking up at him. He had never seen such sadness in her beautiful green eyes, as she had never seen such worry in his. "I'm sorry I left, I..." Her voice broke as she spoke. Looking at her, he felt his heart breaking too.

"Don't be sorry." Thorin pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead on hers. She sniffled, her eyes meeting his once more. With both hands on her waist, he leaned in and kissed her softly, which she returned earnestly. Once they broke apart, he looked her dead in the eyes. "I saw your dagger in his eye, Talia."

"He punished me for it." She whispered, tears spilling over her eyes once again. "He killed her, Thorin."

Thorin reached for her face slowly. Once his hand held the crook of her neck, he pulled her into his firm embrace yet again. There was nothing to be said, no words of condolence appropriate at this time. All he could do was hold her as she sobbed, offering her his support and shelter in his strong arms. She accepted it gratefully, hanging onto him like never before. She knew it would've killed her if he had died, too.

The desolation of Smaug had nearly killed them all, in some shape or form.

Down to every last dwarf.