(no subject)

[wieldsorcrist]

[Sprawled upon the battlefield, bleeding heavily.]

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[gempath]

[There's suddenly a woman nearby. Obviously not a part of this battle. She's not dressed for war or even for the climate. Gem hugs her arms around herself, looking worried.

The worry increases as she sees the man laying on the ground, bleeding profusely. Her hands fly to her mouth in shock and dismay.

But not one sound does she make. Gem is a mute, an empath in fact.]

[wieldsorcrist]

[Collapsed in the midst of the rubble and unable to move, without strength enough even to raise his head, Thorin doesn't notice her arrival. He is exhausted, too weak to try and stem the steady flow of blood as it wells up from the hole in his chest, able only to watch the distant horizon as it begins to blur.]

[He coughs - a harsh, hacking thing - and blood burbles from the corner of his mouth, trickling into his beard. He grimaces at the harsh, copper taste it leaves behind and at the sudden lurch of his chest, as if the wound is stretching open, gaping but he bears the fresh hurt with gritted teeth. If not for the freezing air and the ice water beginning to stiffen his clothes, he's certain he'd be in considerably more pain than he is. That, at least, is a mercy.]

[gempath]

[He was a stranger. Yet, Gem felt she had to do something.

Carefully she approached, sinking quietly to her knees next to his body. She still looked worried, agonizing over what she had to do to help him. Her hands ghosted over his wound, hesitant.

Gem took a breath and took his hand in her own. A shudder went through her as her empathetic abilities took over. Supporting his body chemistry and starting to heal it. In return though, her own body started to show signs of injury. Blood staining her middle in the exact spot where he was injured. She winced painfully but held on to his hand. Unwilling to let go just yet.]

[wieldsorcrist]

[Managing to turn his head, Thorin blinks blearily up at her for a long moment, carefully studying her face. He doesn't recognise her. He can only conclude her to be a woman from Laketown, though he can't guess how she came to be here, kneeling at his side.]

W-what are you -- nng --? [But she is already gripping his hand in hers and he, too numb to pull away, can do nothing.] Please. Please, you can't - can't be here. [The tide of the battle may have turned but there are still Orcs nearby and there will be nothing Thorin can do to defend her should they come.]

[He watches, stunned, as blood begins to seep through her clothes. Is he imagining his returning strength? Wide-eyed, he tries to wrench himself free of her gentle grip, shaking his head.] Stop! Stop, please.

[gempath]

[He's probably right. She couldn't defend herself against Orcs. But right now, she was more concerned about keeping him alive. His wounds were nearly closed, but he was pulling his hand away. The moment he broke contact, what was left of his injuries continued to bleed onto the snow.

Gem collapsed to her side, drained and exhausted as her eyes closed....]

denial can fix anything. here, i've got a bandaid for thorin's booboo

[comfortsofhome]

[ He can see the blood before he even reaches Thorin. Sometimes it seemed there was nothing but blood since he left home. He had thought himself used to it by now, but when he saw the blood that wept from Thorin's wound, the bottom of his stomach fell out.

In a moment Bilbo was kneeling by Thorin's side. ]

Oh.. no, Thorin. No, no, no.

Have an Elf of the First Age? XD

[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin has come to this battle in time to participate but not to have seen many of the events that led up to it. He went with a contingent of Lake Town warriors to lure the van of the Orc army up between the southern and eastern spurs of Mt. Erebor, at which time Men, Dwarves, and Elves then poured down from both slopes and massacred the Orc soldiers. But that was only the first wave; more Orcs came, more than anybody had anticipated. After that, the battle became far more chaotic and hung in the balance for many hours. Curufin is now working his way across the field, killing the holdouts and the stragglers. ]

Not getting away from me, you sonuvabitch! [ Whack! An Orc-head goes flying. ]

[ Suddenly he sees someone lying on the field, and he doesn't look entirely dead. One of the Khazad warriors. Curufin son of Feanor has cause to respect these valiant people. If it had not been for the Dwarves of Belegost, Curufin and his brothers would never have survived the Fourth Battle of Beleriand. He comes nearer, and kneels down beside the wounded one. ]

[thauron]

[This is an amusing sight. Sauron materializes at Thorin's side, eyes agleam with pleasure.]

Are you dying?