Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Dis looked out across the burnt field on the mountains side. The air matches the occasion, cold, without a ray of sun in the sky to warm her. Snow will be falling soon at the mountain. The earth has just begun to harden with frost. A part of her wondered if maybe this had happened in spring, if perhaps it wouldn't hurt so much. No, she decided, nothing would make this easier. How fitting it was, that in the time when everything beautiful dies, so should her heart.
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
And brave soldier boy
Comes marching home
He had promised to return with them. They had promised to keep one another safe. Her brother, her sons, her family, gone forever. She wanted to be angry at Thorin, she wanted to be angry with all of them, but she couldn't. She was but one of many who would be alone in this world now. Elves, men, dwarves, so many of many kinds perished.
Balin had told her that the battle had been caused only by the arrival of the orcs and goblins. She knew he was lying though. She wanted to know why her family had fallen, but to have heard they died beside men and elves as allies, it was the only real truth she needed. He told her that Thorin had fallen when Kili and Fili came to defend him. They all died protecting one another. When her two sons had fallen and could not get to their feet, Thorin rose to his again, and again, and every time after he was freshly wounded. He was badly wounded at that. Arrow after arrow had been lodged into his body, gashes covering him, coughing up blood with nearly every breath. He was rose again, through all his pain, defending the dying forms of his nephews.
Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
She stepped forward as the three covered bodies were brought forth. The boys were carried by Bofur, Bifur, Nori, and Gloin, while Balin and Dwalin carried Thorins still frame. Beside her the rest of the company stood, silently mourning their losses. Even the hobbit stood beside her, silent tears meeting his eyes. Dis knew not exactly what had happened on the journey between him and her brother, but by the emptiness in his expression, she could only imagine. Her hand wound around his, surprising him for a moment, before squeezing her hand and nodding to her in understanding. It was then she noticed the small braid behind his ear.
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
And brave soldier boy
Comes marching home
Slowly the three were gently placed down before the large stone head stones. Each had their names and sketches of them carved in, along with words of goodbye. The holes were dug and slowly, one by one, each were lowered down. She and each of the company took turns sprinkling the cold soil over their forms. When it was Bilbo's turn, he pulled out some items that had been hidden. It was Kili's bow and arrows and Fili's daggers which he placed, with a bit of help, on them. Finally, he came to Thorin. On him, he placed Orcrist and, to the surprise of the others, the Arkenstone and the crown Thorin was to wear. Also, she watched him slip a single red rose into his hand.
Good byes were whispered and the remaining earth was poured in. All stood in silence as they bowed their heads. Silent prayers were thought and tears were shed unwillingly. In the oddest part of her mind, she found irony in this. This was exactly what they had wanted. Thorin wanted to return as king under the mountain, the boys wished to stay by his side forever…and they would. They all wanted to come home…and here they were. Softly, her voice broke through the silence, raw from the silence she had taken after the news had reached her.
"Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
And brave soldier boy
Comes marching home"
XX
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