"Arien."

Thorin choked out the word as he sank to his knees on the blood splattered floor, cradling her body in his arms, her blood mingling with that of the orc's. He had gone numb, because Arien was lying in his arms, blood pumping from the wound in her stomach, and her eyes had drifted shut. But she was not going to die. He was going to save her. He had to save her, because if he didn't... No, that was not an alternative he would allow himself to consider.

Thorin held her head in his lap, fighting back his tears.

"Arien," he whispered again.

Her eyes were closed, her face leached of all colour, and her clothes were caked in blood.

"No."

She was limp in his arms. Limp and utterly lifeless.

"Please, Arien."

And then her eyes, slowly and painfully, cracked open, her lips moving to form his name.

"Thorin..."

She winced, as if speaking had hurt the wound, but even so she reached for his gloved hand. He wrapped it tightly around hers.

"Arien." He tried not to let one flicker of his fear or desperation show. "We have to get you away. We have to find someone who can help you."

But slowly, painfully, she shook her head. "It's too late," she breathed. "There is nothing you can do for me."

No. He wouldn't endure this, wouldn't accept it. There had to be a way for her to live. Even though her wound would have killed most warriors by now.

"I have to save you," he whispered hoarsely.

"You did save me," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "In every way that truly matters, you did."

"Please," he gritted, his voice cracking at the same time as his heart fractured.

"I am not afraid, Thorin," she told him. But she was panting as she gripped his hand tighter. "Listen to me," she got out. "You must lead your people, and reclaim your homeland. You will save them, rebuild them. Just as you did for me. And no matter what happens, Thorin, I want you to know that in the darkness of the past ninety-seven years, you were one of the only bright lights for me. Do not let that light go out."

"Arien, please... don't," Thorin gasped, tears falling freely now. But she coughed again, her eyes fogging with pain. She struggled to speak, and swallowed once. Twice.

Her breaths became shallower, the grip she had on his hand tightening. "I love you. With all my heart, and forever, I love you."

"Arien..." Panic filled his mind, his heart as she turned her lips to his palm. "No. No."

"I would have followed you to the world's ending." She smiled. "My heart. My beacon. My king." Her breath was warm and gentle on his hand as she breathed his name one last time.

"Thorin..."

"No. Please, Arien. Please."

But her hand went limp within his, her breath shuddered from her body, her eyes fixed and staring at his face that she did not see. Thorin's whole body had gone still, his voice barely louder than the breeze that ruffled her hair.

"Don't. Please don't be dead."

He leaned down, pressing his head against the point on her chest where he knew that unfaltering heart beat against her skin.

And was met only with silence.

Thorin shook his head, pulling her towards him, against him.

"Please," he sobbed. "Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone."

She did not respond to him, did not reach for him, or hold him. She did not even see him. And then something broke, broke so fundamentally that he knew there was no returning, no coming back from it.

He could not endure it, couldn't bear the pain of it. Thorin's body shook with the force of his sobs as his roar of pain shattered into the world.

"No!" he screamed. "Please."

She did not respond to him. There was and never would be anything in this world, in any world, across any sea, in any land to equal his pain. Thorin held her to him and cried through his roars of her name. But she did not breathe.

Would never breathe again.