Title: Changing Fate
Summary: Erebor was lost to them. The Orcs had won and Bella was the only one left standing. But Mahal and Eru cannot allow the fall of Durin Folk, they will not let Melkor win again. Bella finds herself back in time, protecting the young Golden Haired Prince.
Bella stood with her King’s sword in her hand, blood dripping down into her eyes as she stared blankly out over the battlefield. Things had gone wrong, they had failed. She was the last one left of the company; Bilbo having to pass just mere moments ago as he tackled the beast from her king-his One.
Erebor was lost to them.
The Orcs had won.
“Bella.” Blank eyes turned towards Legolas, his blue eyes dull as he grasped the gaping wound at his ribs and gasped for breath. His usually blonde hair now matted and filthy, tinted a bloody brown near black.
“We failed.” She replied near delirious, her fingers slackening on the hilt of the sword. She felt her knees hit the ice hard as her eyes fell on the battlefield once more. Her cousins, her father… her friends… all gone and she was the only one standing of the Company. “There is no more hope.”
“There is always hope.” Legolas gasped as he fell to his knees beside her, leaning heavily on her shoulder as the pain began to recede leaving numbness in its wake. He knew he was dying. There was no use in denying it. “I am glad to have you as a friend, SwiftStrike.”
“And I, too, am glad to have you as a friend, Greenleaf.” She replied, her vision dimming as her fingers and body grew cold. She knew that she was fading, either due to the wounds from the blades or from her own grief. “I forever name you Dwarf-friend.”
Legolas laughed slightly as he lay back in the snow, pulling her with him as they watched the sky darken and the eagles fall one by one. His arm wrapped around her tightly, unwilling to be alone. “And you shall always be an elf-friend.”
“Mukhuh mabaddakhi ya bunmû Mahal, Greenleaf.” Bella breathed out, dragging her arm up slowly and holding the sword to her chest. “I’ll be joining Mahal’s guard soon.”
“If only our kings were not prideful.” Legolas chuckled before coughing, red blood splattering on his ashen face. “Bella? Bella! No, we were not yet meant to go!” Legolas cried as he saw his friends still body, blood pooling into the snow.
Bella did not reply, her unseeing eyes already dulled, but she heard the words before the world went dark and she too couldn’t help but think that if things were different then they would have survived this. They would have won. But things had failed; the enemy’s army too great, their numbers too few, and one by one they began to fall; starting with poor Ori, his brothers soon following them and now she was the last. It was unfair.
All shall be well again my stone-daughter; you can change the fate of the world… A voice whispered in her mind. It reminded her of her father’s before he was injured.
You must save them, prepare them for the darkness young Stone Maiden… it must be you…let your heart guide you… An older voice rasped, but she could hear the youth and power behind it, a sound that reminded her of her grandfather before he too passed.
Bella shot up with a scream, her eyes wide as she swung out her arm as she felt something near, her fist connecting with something solid until she found herself pinned down. She bucked and snarled, threatening to harm those who held her. She would not be taken down. Her vision had yet to clear and she didn’t know who-or what-held her.
“Khajimel wake, it is just a dream!” Her father’s voice caused her eyes to snap open, the sound of clanging metal. Her eyes scanned the tent she was in with bared teeth and a dagger held up. Her body ached with wounds of old and wounds she knew healed many years before when she was still a child not yet in her majority.
Panic welled up in her throat as she looked at her father, his wild hair filthy and bloody, the axe he had received protecting her not yet in his head. Bafur, her uncle that she had not seen since she was a youngling, stood at his side with concerned eyes, his hat that was a match to his son Bofur.
“What… Where is Bofur? Bombur?” She hissed to her uncle. “Is this Mahal’s trick? Where are my cousins? Where are the princes? Where is my king?” She roared in stilted Westron, slashing out as she heaved, her eyes scanning the tent once more.
She could hear battle in the background, moans of the dying and sick. These— these were not Mahal’s halls, where was she?
Bifur and Bafur shared a look in confusion.“Bofur is back in the Blue Mountains Bella, where you should be. Prince Frerin and Thorin are in battle, the king… the king is dead.”
This made the Dam pause, her eyes blinking slowly as she took her eyes off her father and uncle before looking down. She was in armour, though not the set she had made and completed before the trip to reclaim Erebor, her wisp of a beard that never fully grew was just starting to grow. Her free hand slowly trailed to her hair and she had eight beads missing, her Guild Master bead for her trade, her heroic acts as she grew, one saving Víli… Víli… Frerin…
Her eyes snapped up again and she dropped the dagger that was her uncle’s. She knew for she had forged it and though it was not the best of her blades he never took it off as it was a gifted prize. Her hands reached for her blades, whimpering when she realised that she no longer had them. It was because of her blades that she gained the title of master.
Frerin was still alive, Thorin was not yet king, but she knew all too well he would be soon. She did not have much time. She needed to save her king and make sure her father did not suffer again because of her.
“Azanulbizar… no…” She breathed out, this time in Khuzdul before rushing out the tent. Her father and uncle behind her, yelling for her to stop but she could not. She needed to find her king, her friends.
“DWALIN!” She roared, her eyes scanning the very vast battle and camp around her. She screamed for her friend and shield-brother once more, looking for any sign of the tattooed dwarf before freezing as she came face to face with Balin instead.
“Balin I need to speak to you and Dwalin it is urgent! Where is King Thorin?” She grunted out harshly, her wound screaming at her. But, she pushed the pain away and blinked as her old friend simply blinked back at her.
“Prince Thorin is on the battlefield once more, Dwalin is with him. Do I know you Lass?” He asked and it was then that Bella saw his hair was a mix of grey and white. He was younger and did not yet look tired. A sharp jab twisted in her chest as she realised that this was not a sick joke, that this was indeed real as the Dwarrow before her was not yet her friend.
“Bella, daughter of Bifur and Renella… Now is not the time, the princes are in danger and the king must be stopped!” She explained before jerking forward and clasping Lord Fundin’s son. She jerked again as she remembered that this battle too was where Fundin had perished and… no… she will not think of this.
“Lass that is a serious allegation you are stating. Where is your proof? How do I know that this is not a ploy to kill me or my kin?” Balin asked warily, his hand closed around the hilt of his sword and watched as the Dam tensed as she came to a stop and spun around with fire in her eyes.
The sound that escaped her lips was one she was familiar with later on in her life. It was a sound many associated to trouble as whoever made her make the sound, had pissed her off. “We don’t have time for this! I will explain after; long story but I need to go!”
Balin blinked in surprise at the Westron that escaped the Dam’s lips as she twirled on her foot and rushed out into battle with little armour and no weapon. Something in his very being told him to go with her, that she could and should be trusted. So with that in mind he followed, making sure to keep her in sight and what he saw as he raced into battle once more was a glorious sight, and one the likes he has never seen in a Dam.
She fought with ferocity, picking up littered weapons and when she moved on, grabbed another, leaving the weapon with whatever fallen Dwarrow she took it from. But that’s not what really caught his eye. No, it was the way she fought, using moves he knows that his brother is trying to prefect with such practised ease and never stopped until he lost sight of her.
Bella had followed the pull in her chest that she remembered feeling long ago before collapsing as she was attacked, the same attack far away from here that her Adad had saved her from. She followed it with the instructions the elder voice told her, to follow her heart, so she did and it drew her farther away from her king and her shield-brother towards a smaller clump of orcs.
What she saw when she finally broke through the mass wall of Orc caused a red hue to take over her vision. A sound much like a roar escaped her lips and she attacked, the Orc that was about to kill her One. She stood over her fallen wounded One as she struck out with his weapons, double blades, against Orc flesh.
Her heart lurched with the thought and looked down, the blades were vastly different but she could see the familiar style and in a blink, it overlayed with the style she knew to be Víli’s. Thorin had made Fíli’s sword to look a mismatch of Víli’s and his brothers.
When the last of the Orc’s fell down, the haze cleared and eyes snapped to her One with horror, things clicking into place as she recalled the sharp, jagged pain she felt her first time around. Her knees shook as she moved closer to the flaxen-haired prince and dropped to her knees heavily. Now that the haze was gone and the truth of what happened long ago, why she never found her One came roaring back.
Her body burned from the wounds she had received before she woke and in her haze; her throat ached with the want to scream of the unfairness of it all. Why her? Why was she sent back to the battle where literally everything in her life went wrong? To find out that the reason why she crumbled the first time in battle was because her One had died? Her One who was the youngest Prince… Frerin.
Eyes the colour of the sky peered up at her startled when her hand clumsily fell upon his chest to see if he was still breathing. Where is his armour?
“Amad?” He asks confused, blinking away the haze that settled on his vision when he received a blow to the head. The laugh that follows reveals that the person with him was not his mother and Frerin knew that he was not in pain, then he would be blushing.
“No Uzbad-Dashatê, I am not Lady Frís.” Bella replied with a slight laugh, trying to force back the pain as she slumped forward, her free hand pressing against the knife wound she could now feel. “Do not go yet Ukradê, I have just found you. I’d hate to make it this far and lose you again.”
Frerin frowned at that and finally – finally he could see again. The first thing he noticed was the sky, no longer was it the bright blue with clouds mottling the sky he remembered but angry dark thunderclouds and then his eyes landed on the person who saved him, his breath hitching. He was not stupid as his kin may think but he could always tell the difference to Dam’s and Dwarrow, even in battle attire and he knew that his saviour was a Dam, a young one too.
Do not go yet Ukradê, I have just found you. Her words echoed in his head and it was then that he remembered the pull, the tug he knows was the sign of his One. But now it no longer felt like it was thinned out to the point of breaking. No, it was warmth that settled in his chest and radiated from the hand that rested upon his chest. The Dam – his saviour – was his One and she was injured.
Even with a hazy view he could see the wounds on her face, arms, and neck. He could even see an arrow sticking out of her shoulder and one hand pressed to a wound at her side, yet she still seemed to stand strong against the pain to save him; to stay with him.
“Muhudel.” He breathed in slight shock and most certainly agony, both in physical and emotional sense. “Ghivashel.”
Bella could hear the words her One was saying but it felt as if it was through a great haze and from the deepest of Mines. She could not hold on any longer to the waking world, her pain too much to bare. Her eyes slipped closed and her body slumped further towards her One as she felt unconsciousness creep up on her, there was no hope of her staying awake and little hope that she may survive this if found in time. She just hopes that Balin had followed closely or found someone to find her; after all in his eyes she made a serious allegation.
You will not join my halls soon Stone-Daughter. You have yet to complete your task… The deep voice of Mahal whispered across her mind comfortingly. It made her heart lurch to hear her Maker’s voice, a gift that was not given lightly if at all.
But the words settled the panic that was rising within her at the sudden realisation she may die.
Ukradê – my greatest heart
Ghivashel – treasure of all treasure
Muhudel – blessing of blessings
Mukhuh mabaddakhi ya bunmû Mahal –
Khajimel – Gift of all Gifts
Uzbad-Dashatê – My Prince