"Go home, wait for me at my place," Thorin said, his hand clutching Dwalin's shoulder. "I'll be there as soon as I..."
His voice trailed off. Dwalin nodded. Thorin had to... take care of things here. He turned and carefully deposited the heavy axe on the edge of the raised platform.
"And Dwalin... thank you," Thorin said.
Of course. He would do anything for him, for his friend, for his king. Even this. As often as necessary. They gave him a wide berth as he moved through the crowd of curious onlookers. They had had their entertainment for the day, though all of them looked dour. There had been no argument from anyone, the dwarf had been caught red-handed, the crime clear, the punishment just. And yet... it gave Dwalin no joy to carry out these sentences.
With a sigh he sat down at the kitchen table in the small house that Thorin shared with Dís and his nephews. Soon Thorin would come and pour him a stiff drink and talk of justice and honour and loyalty. It was all true, but still... it was not what Dwalin had been trained to do. He maimed and killed on the battlefield, had done so for lesser reasons, and he was good at it and proud of his skill. He had never felt remorse for any of his actions in a fight. This was different. He hated this and these deeds weighed heavy on his conscience. He only did this because he knew it would weigh even more heavily on Thorin's conscience.
He buried his face in his hands. He could still see the dwarf in front of him when he closed his eyes. He had forfeit his own life, his crimes had killed him, Dwalin kept telling himself, but an evil voice in the back of his head insisted that it had been his arms that had wielded the weapon, his axe that had cut his neck, his hands that had ended it all. His killer hands. It was such a waste of a life.
Tears were in his eyes, then trickling down his cheeks and he did not brush them away. He cried in moments such as these and there was nothing wrong about it. He was not ashamed of his tears, and nobody had ever dared to mention them. Probably because he threatened to cut the head off anyone who did.
The door flew open with a crash, but it was not Thorin's heavy steps that Dwalin heard, but rather the patter of four small feet .
"Remember to take your boots off, boys! I'll just be a moment."
"Yes, mummy!"
A brief ruckus ensued during which Dwalin tried in vain to gather himself, then the two dwarflings sprinted around the corner in their stocking feet.
"Good afternoon, Dwalin!" Fíli said in his bright voice and grinned a gap-toothed smile up at him. Dwalin just waved his hand at him, still trying to school his features and to stem the flow of tears. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Somebody was tugging at his bootlaces. He glanced down and looked straight into Kíli's big brown eyes.
"Wa sad?" the little one asked.
Dwalin shook his head and smiled.
"I'm fine, laddie," he said, ruffling the boy's hair.
Next thing he knew, Fíli was climbing up into his lap. Somewhat perplexed, Dwalin just let him. The lad settled himself on one of Dwalin's thighs, straddling him like he was a pony, then spread his arms as wide as he could and hugged Dwalin fiercely. Or tried to at least. Even with as much stretching as he could possibly manage, he only reached around half of Dwalin's chest. Still... the gesture was much-appreciated. Fíli snuggled against him, his eyes closed. Dwalin let his chin drop down onto the blond curls, breathing in the sweet scent of the young boy and putting a gentle hand between the lad's shoulder blades. Not just killer hands.
He looked down again and smiled when he saw Kíli now fiercely hugging his boot, as this was the only part of Dwalin he could possibly reach, being rather short for his age. When their eyes met, the little dwarfling groused a bit and stretched out his arms, too small to even reach up high enough to climb onto Dwalin's lap. With a smile, Dwalin lifted him up, and settled him onto his other leg. Kíli immediately stopped fretting and contentedly snuggled against his body.
With two precious dwarflings squeezing themselves against him, Dwalin really could not be sad any more. He was this as well, he was a beloved elder cousin, one that these children trusted and cared for. He was somebody who got and deserved their hugs. He was not just a henchman.