Title: The Unexpected
Summary: What if Bella was the youngest daughter of Galadriel, one who thought was lost but in hiding. What if Gandalf asks for her aid in Thorin’s quest.
Author Note: WHY HAS THIS CONSUMED ME SO?
BTW I should mention Italics are the elves speaking in their native tongue Sindarin. Bold Italics is when they are speaking in Khuzdul. All words translated at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the twilight series and I really don’t own any of Tolkien’s amazing work.
Legolas swords clashed against Bolgs mace with a loud clang halfway in the makeshift bridge, twisting and turning. Each strike Bolg made missing by a hair’s breadth while Legolas got two hits to the pale orcs offspring but did no damage.
He snarled at the beast, spinning once again to the edge as the filth slammed his mace down, knocking several of the stones out. Legolas felt his eyes widen as the wall crumbled below him and he fell into the towers body, thankful that there wasn’t a window below him.
The tower shook from the force, letting it drop a few inches and before Legolas could stand fully, Bolg dropped down snarling. He quickly slashed up, cursing when the filth blocked his strike once again before smashing him into the wall.
“Ah!” Legolas hissed, glancing to the now gaping hole in the structure at his back before jerking, dodging another swing. He leapt backwards with swing the orc did, eyes glancing between the gaping trail that lead to death and the stairs behind him that lead them out of the belly of the tower, all the while avoiding being struck.
With the last bit of stairs he rushed up them, swinging his sword back to block the strike of the mace once again. He stared at the rotting face of the orc over his shoulder, fury burning in the pit of his stomach as he caught a glance of his Chosen unconscious not far behind. With a yell he spun and strike the orc’s arm, smirking as the creature backed away from another swing.
Thorin as he slid to a stop, thanking Mahal for the fact he didn’t fly over the edge only to see the young prince fighting the Defilers offspring and losing. He saw the young prince elf get knocked painfully to the ground by the strike as he dodged the mace strike from the last Orc left, cursing as it broke his sword.
Legolas is Moriel’s One…. Fíli’s voice echoed in his mind as he drove the broken blade into the creature’s neck and tossed him onto the tower. He saw that it was just in time too as Bolg had moved closer to the elf and was ready to strike.
Legolas looked down at the feet of the pale orcs offspring as the tower groaned and the rock crumbled, watched as it rolled and groaned as the top section of the tower collapsed above him. His eyes shot up in an instant as he jumped to his feet and saw the Thorin Oakenshield lying on his back, partially hanging over the edge of the waterfall, defenceless. Another orc approached the defenceless king, a twisted smile upon its mangled face.
Help him… Legolas… Meleth nín, Hû nín… He heard his Chosen whisper into his mind causing him to sigh and cast a look down at the blade. He didn’t want to part from it due to being the only long distance thing he had to keep the orc filth buried under the rubble away.
Thorin stared up at the limping Orc as it snarled, its axe raised ready to strike. He turned his head, eyes closing as he waited for the killing blow to come before jerking his head back to the creature at the sudden whistle and thunk, his eyes widened as he caught sight of the Orcrist burried into the orc’s chest, killing it.
Legolas smirked as he stared at the blade and king before jerking, spinning down and away on his knees as Bolg burst through the rubble and swung his mace down. He unsheathed his daggers and attacked as his Chosen’s cry filled the silence, he needed to get to her now.
He dodged and struck, his daggers burying into the shoulder blade between the jutting metal with a precise deadly blow. He would not lose this time and he would not allow the pleasure of the creature to draw blood once more nor would he allow the filth to live.
Thorin stared at the blade in disbelief, his eyes catching the sight of the prince and orc filth fighting before jerking towards the body that lay just a few feet down from the edge of the waterfall, too far to jump but not enough for him to make his way down to her. A horn cry filled the air, causing Thorin to snap his eyes up to the horizon and curse, an army of Orc’s now dotted the hillside.
Thorin… Thorin… Moriel’s voice whispered tiredly in his mind, causing his body to jolt.
“Moriel? Namad!” He called out, using the word for the first time in relation to her. He thought of her as a sister, had braided her hair with his and his sister-sons personal sigils but never had dared to caller her Namad.
Bella felt the lethargy creep back, her head flopping to the side like lead weight as her eyes stayed open and locked on the war below her, on her chosen as well as he fought the Defilers Son. She tried to move but she had little energy left and what little energy she had, she planned to use it on something big and had to be at the precise moment. She could see that they were overwhelmed and knew that help was coming but slowly. The wind around her soothed her burning flesh, lifting a few stray strands of hair from her face.
If you need us, call for us. We will hear you upon the wind.
“Gwaihir…” She breathed out. “Landroval… Meneldor…” She continued to breathe out the names of the great eagles, calling them faster to the battle she knew they could not refuse. They lived to kill off the fell beasts, being the protectors of Manwë to watch the evil that roamed these lands.
A roar echoed, drawing her attention back towards her Chosen, a scream catching in her throat as she sees Bolg throw a large chunk of wall down into the belly of the tower. Legolas moved, quick and light, as the wall gave out below his feet. It was times like this, as he jumped from falling rock to falling rock like steps that he was thankful for being an elf, amazingly light and agile.
With the last falling chunk he swung up, his legs wrapping around Bolg’s throat and with a twist of his body, he threw the fell creature back and over the edge. A grunt escaped Legola’s lips as he landed on the bridge once again, the stone giving out beneath him, his hand grasped a sturdy edge and he swung himself back up once again, cursing as he saw Bolg do the same.
Both of them charged at one another, Legolas finally able to land a strike as he thrust out his dagger. Bolg smirked up at the elf as he held the dagger between his arm and armour. Legolas cocked his head to the side at the move, a smirk pulling at his lips that made the orc wary. This time Legolas won’t let him walk away, his smirk grew before he used the knife as leverage to swing atop Bolg’s shoulders. The orc shakes his head confused before Legolas slammed the blade into the filths head, slicing through metal and bone into the brain.
With a grunt he kicked off the orc’s body and flipped, using his strength to break the bridge away and to flip back enough to land on the cliff. When the last of the bridge collapsed upon the body he rushed to his Chosen’s side.
“Canadriel, gilgalad nín.” He whispered as he pulled her carefully into his arms, frowning when he saw the blood upon her shoulder. “Did my armour not protect you? You are hurt.”
Bella blinked and gave her love a soft smile. “It did caun nín; I simply used too much force for the metal to stand when I tackled that beast off the cliff.”
“Where are the others? Do you know?” She asked softly when all he did was clutch her tighter. “I told Tauriel to take her sister to the healers; I sent Deldhínenon and Acharthôr to protect my kin. But I do not know if they are well… if the rest.”
“Shh meleth nín. Save your strength, I saw Thorin up on the waterfall; I do not know where the others are. Gandalf and Adar were together the last I saw.” He soothed before jerking slightly as two elven horns filled the air from the battle field.
Canadriel smiled softly. “Emel, Ada, Hanar… They came.” She chuckled out as her eyes shifted to the marching armies of Lothlórien and Rivendell.
“The eagles are coming.” Legolas breathed out in awe as a caw echoed across the sky, their large forms soaring over the waterfall and towards the army that he knew was coming.
Can-nín, hên nín, I foresaw what your fate would be if we did not come. Draw our strength iell nín, I will aid you. Her mother’s soft voice whispered tenderly, bringing her more comfort and strength.
A startled laugh escaped her lips causing Legolas to raise his brows in question. “Do you know that the Dwarrow’s do not know of who I am? They have always known me as Moriel and now my parents are here, they will know then when I am to be healed.” She chuckled out her explanation.
“I am curious as to why they didn’t know.” Legolas explained, brushing back the lose strands from his Chosen’s face. He knew they needed to move for it wasn’t safe here, he saw his father’s weapons strapped to Canadriel’s body but didn’t dare ask, so he knew they were well protected but if he was overwhelmed.
“I am safe Greenleaf, I am alive and breathing. You can lecture me later on it and I will make it up to you.” She whispered, her eyes wide as she watched the pain and grief twist his face.
“Le melin, Legolas. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much when I do not know them. Yet, I know you, I know your heart and I can see your soul. You are the brightest star in the darkest of skies and your heart beats in tune with mine. Le melin… Le melin…” She whispered honestly, a small whimper of pain escaping her lips as she tried to get to her feet.
Legolas moved quickly and gently helped her to her feet before turning her to face him. “You have stolen my heart from me Canadriel. Guren min gaim lín.”
He wrapped her in his arms and held her close to his chest, careful not to jostle her wounds. Bella stared up at her love, his blue eyes darker than what she can recall against his pale skin. The world seemed to melt away as she leant up and placed a kiss upon his lips once more.
The first time they kissed it was quick and full of passion, burning hot like dragonfire but this one, this kiss was soft, sweet and a slow burn that seemed to send sparks of warmth through her. The world faded away and it was only them that stood upon the mountain top.
To her – them – it was perfect.
“You will need to hold me.” She breathed out, resting her forehead against his as he bowed his head.
“I will never let you go now.” He replied, pulling her flush to his chest when she turned around to face the battle.
Drawing a deep breath Bella felt her eyes close for a second as she gathered the last of her strength and that of her families before snapping her eyes open once more.
Everyone froze as the ground rumbled underneath their feet, sending many Man, Dwarrow and Elf to the ground taken off guard. They could hear a chant in the air, a voice that echoed across the battlefield that seemed to make the tremors more violent.
Hear my call, oh mighty earth
Split and rumble, strike and swallow
Save my Men, Elves and Dwarrow
Eat, devour and crush the orcs
Send them back to their darkened halls
Hear my call, oh mighty earth
Legolas watched as the battlefield began to crack and shift under the fleeing orcs, swallowing those that were too slow while the tunnels that they had come from collapsed under the bulk of them all. All that were able froze, watching as the ground swallowed the army as they fled before erupting in cries of victory.
“Well that’s a sight.” Bilbo slurred as he stumbled to Thorin’s frozen side. “Re-Remind me to never anger Lady Bella.”
Thorin spun quickly, catching Bilbo as he slumped forward, his golden curls caked in mud, snow and blood. “Where are you hurt? Bilbo, where are you hurt?”
“Got knocked out, ribs hurt a bit too. Bit not good.” He chuckled hazily; his hand grasping Thorin’s as tight as he could to stop the world from swaying. “Fíli and Kíli?”
Thorin swept up Bilbo into his arms with a frown, his heart clenching as he saw the bruising around his friends –because he was a friend – neck, ones that were caused by his own hand. “Alive… Bilbo… I would like to take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me…I was too blind to see. I’m so sorry that I have led you into such peril.”
“No, no, I’m glad to have shared in all your perils, Thorin, each and every one of them. And it’s far more than any Baggins deserve. I forgive you though, for I knew it was not you at that time…” He trailed off, darkness swarming his vision.
“No, Bilbo you need to stay awake, stay awake master burglar!” Thorin urged as he quickened his pace down the mountain. He cast a look back towards where he knew Moriel was and sagged in relief when he saw her with the elf prince, she was safe at least.
He rushed towards the tents that now stood up between the flat lands of Erebor and Dale. Camps made in sections of Man, Dwarrow and Elf. He didn’t even pause for a second when he realised there were more elves than what there was before.
“Thorin! Someone get Óin immediately!” Dori yelled as he saw the king rush towards them, an unconscious Bilbo in his arms with blood dripping down.
Óin stuck his head out of the tent and frowned, rushing both the king and Bilbo into the tent. “Sit, place him here.” He instructed before quickly stripping Bilbo of his shirt and armour carefully before examining his head.
“He has a bump and a large gash, he must have been struck. Wake up laddie, tell me where it hurts.” He stated, trying to wake the Halfling up.
Bilbo groaned and whimpered at the pain, curling in around himself as he opened his eyes and stared blearily up at Óin. “Ribs… head.”
“He’s got a concussion, and fractured ribs. If he wasn’t wearing the Mithril he’s be dead.” Óin replied short as he finished inspecting the hobbit, his friend, before cleaning the wound and dressing it. “He will be okay, he will need to drink this every four hours and woken every two. Now, sit it is your turn.”
Thorin collapsed on the chair in relief, his eyes scanning the occupants in the room and saw that it was only members of the company. Glóin was resting in the back corner with his leg and shoulder wrapped; Bombur had his hand bandaged and his thigh while Bofur stared down at his foot in misery; half his face covered with Bifur at his side.
“Where are Kíli and Fíli?” He asked worried, hissing as Óin squeezed the wound on his leg, opening it once again.
“They’re with Dwalin looking for the elf lass.” Óin supplied. “Fíli has broken ribs and Kíli broke his arm catching his brother. A few minor bruises and cuts, they will live. Dwalin broke three fingers, fractured his collarbone and took a nasty cut to his chest. Do you think he would stay put? No.”
Thorin simply snorted. “The others?”
“The Ri brothers are fine as far as I could tell. Dori and Nori took a lot of hits protecting Ori but what I saw in battle of the young scribe they needn’t have worried and Balin succumbed to no injuries. He’s with Dain right now helping the injured from the battlefield.” The healer supplied before pausing, casting look at his king. “We owe Moriel a debt I don’t think we can ever repay. We were losing this war Thorin, her kin came when we were too overwhelmed and she was the one to cause the ground to crack and crumble.”
Thorin looked down with a frown. “I know Óin, she killed Azog and saved Fíli from death, had saved us all and I…” He trailed off, his throat closing at the grief and guilt.
Óin shook his head. “You need to keep that wound clean, you’re lucky with the one on your leg, any deeper and you would have bled to death. I’d advise you to stay here but I know you will not.”
The king went to reply when chaos outside the tent caught their attention. Dwalin and Balin’s voice booming over the cries of the others. Thorin quickly got to his feet and limped out the door, pausing in dread as he saw the young elf prince rushing his way through the soldiers, a limp Moriel in his arms.
Author Note: *evil chuckles*
Guren min gaim lín – My heart is in your hands
Le Melin- I love you
Emel – Mother
Adar – Father
Hanar – Brother
hên nín – My Child
iell nín – My Daughter
gilgalad nín – My Starlight
Meleth nín – My love.