take note that bilbo is thorin in this :)))))))))

farewell my love

Both of the eagles carrying both Anne and Thorin arrived in Dale at the same times, the Elf and the Dwarf fatally wounded. Fili and Kili were riding on Anne's eagle, while Bilbo was riding on Thorin's eagle. They were both brought to the healing tents and unconscious, the Elves trying their hardest to revive the both of them. Yet out of the two of them and the limited amount of Kingsfoil, only one of them could really be saved.

Much to his own dismay, it was Thorin.

His eyes fluttered open and he inhaled sharply. The first thing he felt was pain, and then the sting of his eyes as they adjusted. He groaned and rubbed his temple, blinking repeatedly. He was in a bright yellow tent in a healing bed, his bare chest wrapped and clean. There were a few patches above his eye and on his torso, yet they still hurt when he moved around. He groaned again and sat up with a wince, rubbing his eyes.

The last thing he ever remembered was dying, Bilbo right next to him before he was being lifted into the air. He remembered seeing another eagle soar over his head right before he died, his nephews on that eagle and a small figure in the bird's talons. Then nothing.

What happened?

"You're alive!" chimed Bilbo Baggins as he emerged into the tent. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Thorin grumbled, wincing as he stood and grabbed a shirt. He put it over his head, sighing in relief when he finally got it on. He exhaled deeply, looking around. "Where are my nephews?"

"Alive," Bilbo said. "Anne managed to save them from Bolg."

As soon as he heard her name, Thorin's eyes widened. He started to march out of the tent, but Bilbo rushed in front of him to stop him. "Thorin, I don't think that's a very good idea."

Thorin narrowed his eyes. "Why? What's happened? Is she alright?" He spoke fast, his voice rushed and worried.

"She is, but..." Bilbo sighed and trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

"But what?" Thorin's voice was low, and he tilted his head to the side. "Bilbo, what's wrong with her?"

"She's dying," Bilbo explained softly. "I'm so sorry."

Thorin blinked, chuckling in frustration and shaking his head. "You should know that lying to me won't cut it anymore," he said, brushing past him.

Bilbo sighed and hung his head. "I'm not," he said, and Thorin stopped at the tent entrance. Bibo turned around, as did Thorin. "There was only a limited amount of Kingsfoil left to save the two of you. Anne forced us to use it on you instead of herself." Bilbo sniffed, exhaling shakily. "She chose her own life over yours."

Thorin shook his head and looked to the sky, inhaling in attempt to keep his emotions in check.

He needed to see her... now.

He left the tent, Bilbo chasing after him in attempt to dissuade him from going. "You really should be resting. Thorin? Thor--"

Thorin ignored Bilbo, stepping out of the tent and looking around. There were bodies everywhere, and tents, too. The snow was watered in red and black blood and ash, the Dwarf grimacing when he saw dead bodies of Orcs thrown in corners of the city. He weaved in and out past people, Bilbo right behind him. They stopped at an intersection, looking around and trying to figure out where to go.

"Thorin, look," Bilbo pointed, shifting to the right.

They seemed to be at a slope in the square, where cart tracks were embedded in the snow and there was a destroyed cart next to a dead troll of some sort with a sword--Bard's sword--sticking out of its chest. Thorin gasped quietly when two Dwarves stepped out of the tent, both of them somewhat bandaged up, but he blond had a bandage on his forehead and his right arm was wrapped while brunette having a lot less than him, yet he still had his fair share.

"Kili?" Thorin called. "Fili!"

The two Dwarves' heads snapped up when they heard their uncle, sighing in relief when they saw him at the top. "Uncle!"

Thorin started rushing down the hill, the two boys clambering up with somewhat difficulty. Thorin was careful not to slip or hurt himself even more as he neared his nephews. When they met in the middle, the two boys automatically jumped on their uncle. Thorin winced, but he quickly hugged his nephews back.

The Line of Durin shall not be so easily broken.

"You're okay, boys," Thorin said, though it was more for his sake than anything. "You're alright."

Kili's eyes widened, and he let go of his uncle. Fili soon did the same thing, the two boys exchanging looks before staring at their uncle. "Uhm........." Kili started before trailing off. "Anne, she's......."

Thorin narrowed his eyes. "Is she okay?"

Fili looked away, unable to meet Thorin's eyes. Kili's bottom lip trembled, and he shook his head slowly. Thorin felt himself crumble inside.

No....

"Do you know where she is?" he croaked.

Kili scratched the back of his head and shrugged honestly. "No," he answered. "As soon as we landed, they rushed us to tents because Fili passed out because of his head."

Thorin gave his older nephew a wary look.

"I'm fine," Fili reassured.

Thorin sighed and nodded his head shortly. Bilbo shifted from foot to foot, his lips in a knot. Kili noticed the Hobbit and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Boggins!"

Bilbo sighed; he never seemed to get his last name right. Nonetheless, he smiled. "Hello, Kili."

That's when Fili frowned. "Where's Dwalin?"

"Still at Ravenhill," Bilbo answered. "He's finishing off Bolg and the army from the north. Dain is with him."

"Dwalin?" Thorin asked. "What about him?"

Fili and Kili exchanged a look, sighing. "Right after Anne saved our lives from Azog's spawn, the Orc was about to kill us...or at least try to. Dwalin arrived, and the two of them rolled down a cliff."

Thorin nodded, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shook his head, sighing. "I really need to find Anne."

"You won't find her down there."

All of them jumped, spinning around to see Thranduil standing at the top behind them. His silver armor was partially stained in black blood, and Thorin saw how fierce his blue eyes were. But then he saw sadness and regret, and Thorin blinked.

"Where?" Bilbo asked.

Thrnaduil sighed. "I will lead you to her."

All of them shared a look before nodding. Thranduil inclined his head, walking back to where he came from. The three Dwarves and the Hobbit climbed back up the road, taking a right turn. They were all careful to weave in and out of people, seeing as the wounded were still being cared for.

"Wow," Kili mused quietly. "I've never seen this much dead."

"Remember the story of Moria?" Fili asked his brother quietly, not wanting their uncle to hear them. "I don't know which battle was worse. This, or that."

Thorin, in fact, did hear them, but he said nothing. Instead, he kept pressing on. Thranduil finally led them to a large yellow tent that was slightly opened, but not all the way. Thorin gulped and took shallow steps towards the entrance.

"My daughter is in there," Thranduil said, his voice wavering. "I shall leave you to it. I must find my son."

Thranduil didn't hesitate to make a quick escape, marching back to where he came from. Thorin and the others watched him go. Fili cleared his throat and grabbed his brother's arm. "Come on, brother," he said lowly. "Let's go find Tauriel. Bilbo, come with us."

Bilbo stammered before sighing in defeat and trodding after them, glancing behind his shoulder one last time before disappearing in the crowd. Thorin took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He stepped inside the tent, looking around. There were numerous flowers, and there was one that specifically caught his eye, though, and he walked towards it. The flower was small, with delicate white and soft petals, its stem green and strong. He picked it, twiring the stem around in his fingers.

"Simbelmynë," he mused. "The flower of Rohan."

"The Elves call it uilos, meaning 'snow white'," said another weak, hoarse, and somewhat raspy voice from behind him. "Or alfirin, meaning 'immortal'."

Thorin turned around, his mouth opening in a silent gasp. Already, he felt weak. His heart ached, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He slowly walked to the bed, sitting down on the chair next to it. He put a hand on her cheek, pressing his lips to her temple. She smiled softly.

"Hi," she croaked.

Thorin removed his lips from her temple and looked at her face. "Hi."

She looked terrible. She had a bandage on the side of her face, and her lips were chapped. Her hands were soft, but they were still a little bloody. There were sheets covering her, and when Thorin lifted them up, he closed his eyes and sighed quietly.

"How bad?" she whispered.

Thorin gently put the covers over her middle again, smoothing her hair back. "You're going to be okay."

The two of them knew that he was lying. Her chest was wrapped throughly, but blood was still seeping through. The wound was really deep, and he knew that the only way to save her was to use Kingsfoil... and a lot of it.

But alas, they were out.

"You never were a good liar," Anne said with a weak laugh. She tried to grab his hand by somewhat clawing her fingers towards him, and Thorin automatically grasped her hand pressed a kiss to her palm, fighting back the tears that wanted to spill.

"Why?" Thorin croaked. "Why would you choose your life over mine?"

"Because your nephews need you," she answered. "I saw the traumatized looks on their faces when they saw you." A pause. "And also because Erebor needs its King."

"And a King cannot rule if there is not someone by his side," Thorin retorted, squeezing her hand. "I want you to rule by my side."

"That would be lovely... if I wasn't dying," Anne said with a little chuckle.

"Don't say that," Thorin scolded, shaking his head. "You're going to live. We set out to save Erebor, and now we have it. I'm not going to let it slip from you like it slipped from me all those years ago."

"Thorin," Anne said, cutting him off. "Yes, we did set out to save Erebor... and it has been saved." She inhaled and shook her head. "But not for me."

"No, don't say that, okay?" Thorin croaked, getting off the chair so he could go on his knees, putting her face in his hands. "We're going to get through this together."

Anne smiled softly, tears gliding down her face. She rested her hand on his arm, staring up into his determined blue eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

Thorin knew her soul was leaving her body, and he started to panic. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Anne, please. Don't you dare."

"I love you so much," she whispered. "And I'm so sorry."

"No, Anne—" His voice cracked, and he inhaled sharply to try and keep his emotions in check. "It's okay. You're okay. I love you, too, and I'm so happy I met you. You taught me so much, and you made me a better Dwarf."

The smile was still on Anne's face. "Promise me that you'll be a good King, Kingy," she pleaded softly. "Spend less time worrying about the gold, and more time on the people. Don't become your grandfather."

"I promise," Thorin answered, not missing a beat. "I won't fall again."

"Good." Anne exhaled painfully. "Kiss me," she said, her voice just barely a whisper. "Please."

Thorin nodded. He leaned his head down, careful not to hurt her as he kissed her softly. His lips fitted on hers perfectly, and he could taste her salty tears. He pulled away when Anne took a ragged breath and made a little noise, and panic started to settle in.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Don't you dare, Anne. Don't you dare, okay? I love you too much," Thorin pleaded.

She took one last breath, trying to smile. "It's... okay..." Then nothing more.

"Anne!"

Her eyes started to close, and the color drained from her face. Her grip on his arm faded, but before it could fall to the side, Thorin caught it. He intertwined their fingers, hoping that a miracle would happen and she would come back to life again.

Nothing.

Thorin kissed her cold lips before finally emotions break free. He completely broke down, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her body and putting it in his arms, rocking back and forth. He sobbed, his face burried in her hair. He didn't care that there was a crowd outside of the tent, watching as the Dwarf totally collapsed. Kili and Fili exchanged a look, going in the tent. They put a hand on either side of their uncle's shoulders, eyes squeezed shut. Thranduil stayed outside, inhaling sharply and looking down at the ground. Legolas was next to his father, Tauriel's head buried in Legolas' shoulder.

None of this was supposed to happen to either of them.

Why did the world have to be so cruel?

~>~>~>~>

im just gonna take a minute... *cries*

now look at the cast real quick. can you see why i named myself satan.

okay so this was shitty but no less feelsy you have to admit it.