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      Thorin stepped off of the ice and the Pale Orc toppled in. He was about to leave, when the Orc started moving due to the water flow. He decided to follow: just to make sure he was dead.

      After following him for a while, Azog stopped and his eyes closed. Then he suddenly opened them and plunged his blade through the ice, stabbing all the way through Thorin's foot. Thorin yelled in pain and fell over as Azog broke through the ice. He swung his blade twice and Thorin deflected it. Then the Pale Orc went to plunge his blade into Thorin's chest. Thorin slid his blade in between the crack in Azog's to prevent him from killing him.

      He held it there, but his strength was waning. There was no way he could win this battle. Or was there? He stared at the Pale Orc as he lay there on the cold ice, preparing himself for what was to come. Then he removed his blade and allowed the filthy Orc to stick the blade in his chest.

      Thorin let out a small cry of pain and Azog smiled an evil victorious smile. But that smile didn't last long. With all the remaining strength Thorin had left, he pushed himself up and plunged his own blade into Azog's chest. The Pale Orc fell over in surprise. Thorin straddled him and pushed the blade all the way through the Pale Orc until it was stuck in the ice. He didn't release his blade until the Orc stopped breathing.

      Thorin, in excruciating pain, pushed himself off of Azog and fell over. He could feel blood beginning to fill his lungs and his breathing became harder. As he lay there on the ice, slowly dying, memories of him and his nephews rushed through his mind. Everything they had been through, from that one night their father died, up to the point they had fallen to Bolg and Azog. Time seemed to slow down as he thought of all the good and bad times they'd been through together.

     It all began seventy seven years ago, the exact day Kili was born.

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