Author's Note:
Hello, hello! Thanks so much for checking out this tiny story o' mine. I wrote this at the urging of a friendI met at HobbitCon, so...blame him! I also promised that if there is any interest, that I would write the "prequel" to this short story. As always, thank for reading!
Raise a glass of your favorite beverage to the Professor. Thank you sir, for Middle Earth.
Durin's Son
"One more time, Princess. One more time." the midwife urged.
Exhausting, fading the elf-princess cried out. "I cannot. I am sorry, Thorin, I cannot." Orophina reached out and took the hand of the young dwarf-prince at her side.
"You can Phi. I know you can." Thorin whispered his lip pressed lightly to her brow. As Throin looked at her sweat covered face, and the blood soak bed, he knew the truth. Orophina, his wife, his princess will not live. Orophina who severed her bond with her people, was now going to die because of her love for him. 'I am a murderer.' he thought.
Orophina cried out once more as she bore down upon her center. Her effort this time, brought forth the lifeless form of she and Thorin's child.
"You've done it, highness." the midwife whispered.
Thorin looked to the midwife and asked, "The child, what was it?" he looked towards the linen wrapped bundle, where his child lay still, never knowing life.
"A son." the midwife whispered. "Mahal guide him."
Orophina tugged weakly on the sleeve of Thorin's shirt, "I want to see...I need to hold..."
Thorin nodded at the midwife and took the lifeless bundle in his arms. "Poor child." Throin moved his chair closer to the bed where his wife lay, and placed the child into her arms.
Orophina uncovered the child's tiny face and smiled. "He looks like you." she said, turning the child towards his father.
Thorin smiled weakly and said, "Aye, but he has your ears and the eyes of your brother." Thorin then placed his hand on the head of the child, looking deep into his eyes.
"Name him." Orophina whispered, so quietly that Thorin could barely hear her. As he looked up, he saw that she was now struggling for breath, she was fading.
"Thaerin." he said.
Orophina smiled, and placed a hand on the tear soaked face of Thorin. "Beautiful."
"As are you, wife." he said, pressing his lips carefully on hers.
"I l-love you." she whispered, as she stared into the eyes of Thorin, losing consciousness.
"Orophina!" he shouted, "Take him! Take the child!" he shouted, taking the child in his arms. "What are you waiting for?!"
The midwife turned to Thorin, "I hear something," she said, "I can feel it. A storm is coming."
As the midwife took the child into her arms Thorin got into the bed beside his wife. He took her limp form in his arms, and rested a hand over her heart. "Please do not go where I cannot follow." he pleaded, gently rocking her. "I will love you for the rest of my days. You and no other." Thorin cried out as beneath his hand he felt the heart of his wife falter, then stop. "Give her the child. She should not go on this journey alone." he said, his voice thick with his heartbreak.
The midwife did as she was bid and reunited mother and child. "I pray that their souls find each other."
Thorin kissed the heads of his wife and son, and helped the midwife cover their bodies with a clean linen sheet. He then rested his hand on the covered head of his wife, and bowed his head. As he stood in silent prayer, he heard it.
He ran from the room bellowing, "DRAGON!"
Thranduil, the Elvenking of MIrkwood watched as the kingdom of Erebor was destroyed by the might and wrath of the dragon. He looked on, unfeeling as the surviving dwarves ran from the fiery ruins of a once mighty kingdom. His eyes then focused on a single dwarf, the young Prince, Thorin. Not seeing Orophina beside him, he turned his great elk around and motioned for his people to follow.
'I will not risk my life, nor those of my people for the one that stole the life of my wife.'