"Oin, Gloin, Bifur..." Gandalf paused in his count and drew back to avoid a collision as the latter ran past, "... Bofur, Bombur, Ori, Nori, Dori, Balin, Dwalin, Dis..."
Gandalf frowned sharply and scanned the line, dread filling him as his suspicions were confirmed. Two were missing.
"Where is Fili?" he questioned Oin in alarm. "Did you see him come out?"
Near the front of the company Thorin reeled to a halt, scanning the group for his nephew's shock of blond hair. No trace of Fili was to be seen and he pushed his past the front of the line, anxiously searching the faces as he fervently prayed his worst fears had not come to pass. The moment Thorin set eyes upon his sister his heart sank, for he knew he needed no further answers.
Dis shoved past Gandalf and stormed up to her brother, her eyes lit with grief that she could scarcely contain. Before Thorin could speak Dis' gauntlet struck his face, his sister's anguish driving her to lay the blame on the only one she could imagine responsible for her loss.
"You promised me you would look after him!" Dis shouted, fully aware of the company's stares but no longer finding reason to care. "You swore to me that you would bring him back alive!"
Thorin's face went white and his lungs stubbornly refused to draw in air. "I thought he was with you," he stated in horror, the implications of his nephew's fate sinking in like a great weight crushing his soul.
Dis released a cry and lashed out once more, Thorin's hand catching her wrist before the blow could make contact.
"You gave me your word he would return!" she screamed, furious tears sparkling in her gaze. "I never wanted him to accompany you on this madness! I told you not to lure him away with lies of honor and glory. Was Kili not enough, that you had to take Fili from me as well?"
The lancing words were aimed with cruel accuracy and Thorin faltered as an old scar was rent anew. Self-condemnation morphed into bitterness and he retaliated coldly, "You would hold me responsible for what the enemy did? For the deaths of Nahon and Olan and all who were slaughtered defending our people? Am I one of the Goblins now, that you demand repayment for what happened to Kili?"
It was an unfair accusation brought about in the furor of her emotions, but Dis could not take back her words no matter how undeserved they were. "You could have left me Fili!" she spat, wrenching away from her brother's grasp and stepping away as the urge to strike something rose up in her once more. "You could have spared my eldest! He was all that remained to me, Thorin! He was my only child!"
"He asked to accompany us!" Thorin retorted, spreading his hands out helplessly in his frustration. "He knew what he was getting into, the same as everyone who signed the contract."
His voice faltered slightly and Thorin knew that if this argument continued it would not be long before he or Dis broke completely. Their grief was too fresh, too close for this blame-game to continue. Dis had lost her son, but in this moment all she saw in Thorin was the loss of his prized heir. Had she distracted herself from her sorrow long enough to notice the sheen in his far-off gaze she would have instantly silenced her claims.
On the other hand, if Dis had seen her own agony reflected in the eyes of another she might have crumpled instantly, with Thorin not far behind. Neither could afford to lose themselves to mourning at this moment; not with the pressing threat of the Goblins seeking vengeance for their slain king.
Dwalin sensed the need for interference and pulled Dis away, enduring her kicks and struggles before she released a wail of loss and slumped against him. No tears were shed, no further cries uttered. In spite of Dis' pain the sense of duty driven into her during the days of Erabor consumed her, the knowledge of their plight rising above her turmoil and staving her grief. She remained motionless for a short while longer, drawing on the strength of another until she could continue on; a wraith fighting for a war that was not her own; a shadow constantly looking back for that which had been hers until this moment.
Only now did Thorin wish he had heeded his sister's foresight while he had the chance.
"You are not dragging him along on this suicidal quest of yours, Thorin."
"He is no longer a boy, Dis. He is an Prince of Durin and one day he will be heir to the throne. You cannot hold him back from his future."
Dis barked a laugh, her words lethal as a viper's poison as she retorted, "He will do the throne no good if he is dies during your half-brained scheme. What in Durin's name has possessed you, Thorin? Twelve Dwarrow, few of which have seen battle; you expect these to cross the wilderness and face down a dragon? You're mad, brother!"
"If I sought advice I would have consulted Balin," Thorin fired back, his voice rising at his sister's claims. "I beseeched our people to gather their courage and fight for what was rightfully theirs, and only these have responded. If I had but half their number it would be enough. I asked for their loyalty and their willingness to follow no matter what fate transpires. Only these eleven responded when I called for their help; I would ask for no greater warriors."
"Warriors? Or phantoms of the dead?" Dis spun away in frustration, slapping a rag onto the table and scrubbing at a stain that had resided in the oak for years. "He is not accompanying you."
"You cannot decide that for him."
His sister reasoned by the life she wanted her son to have, but Thorin knew that Fili's path would lead him in a direction none dared to trek. The birth of a king was preceded by a road filled with trials, the rising of a leader twice the hardship. Fili would have to carve his own way if he wanted his people to follow him, and he could not forge a name for himself hiding away in the Mountains like a commoner.
"I will not lose another son!" Dis snapped, her eyes flashing with vehement determination as she whirled to face Thorin. "Fili is all that I have left; you will not take him from me, as well!"
For an instant Thorin froze, the memory of Kili a jagged knife lodged deeply in the wound carved by Frerin, Thrain and Thror's deaths. He could not answer his sister, words abandoning him as his heart told him that she was right. To tear Dis' remaining son from her was to demand she surrender her life and soul for a quest which in her mind could never succeed. In Thorins' eyes Erabor was as surely within his grasp as the axe sheathed at his belt, but he knew Dis could not share his confidence of a hope yet unseen.
He could not convince her that he would guard Fili with his life; that he would not allow himself to falter a second time and lose another who was more precious to him than all the gold of the Mountain. He could swear that he would sooner take an arrow than allow his nephew to come to harm, prove his word true time and time again, and still Dis would never fully trust that her son was in safe keeping. She had seen the devastating aftermath of Moria; she knew how easy it was to lie when you thought victory was within your grasp.
For the sake of the debt he felt that he owed his brother, however, Fili had personally volunteered to accompany them. Thorin would not deny him this request.
"He has asked to go," Thorin stated with gentle firmness. "You cannot hold him back, Dis."
Though her shoulders slumped marginally at the announcement Dis refused to back down. With her head held high in the mirrored stubbornness of her grandfather, she replied with eerie serenity, "No."
Thorin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to react calmly. Only his little sister had the ability to irk him so, and now was not the time for petty quarrels. Fili had determined to follow after them one way or another, threatening to make the journey alone if he could not find any other way. Thorin only wished that Dis would be rational and see that her son was no longer a child. After his brother was taken, Thorin had watched Fili grow from a boy to a man in the space of three short summers. Suddenly childhood held no purpose for him as he threw himself into his training and studies with the fervency of a Dwarf three times his age.
Kili's death had changed him; had changed them all in ways Thorin could never have imagined.
"Mum?"
Dis spun around at the voice, her anger vanishing under a mask of calm as she regarded her son fondly. "What is it, Fili?"
Fili watched cautiously from the doorway, pale blue eyes taking in Thorin's aggravated posture and the glint of antagonism hidden in Dis' gaze. Respectfully, but leaving no room for discussion, he implored quietly, "I want to go."
Though she tried to appear strong Thorin caught the flicker of desolation in his sister's gaze; a quiet plea that her son was only jesting and had no desire to leave her.
Fili noticed the same flinch in her expression and he stepped into the room, approaching his Mother and taking her hands compassionately as he explained, "This is not Uncle's quest any longer, Mum. This is my quest; for my people. It is not just a chance to prove myself, or my loyalty to Uncle Thorin. You told me once that a leader must be prepared for all manner of risks; that only a coward shirks in the face of duty."
Dis cringed ever so slightly as she recognized her own words being used as sound reasoning against her. Fili smiled softly and continued,
"This is my opportunity to prove myself to my people. To show that I can lead them no matter how dangerous or futile our circumstances appear to be. How can I hold my head high when Erabor is reclaimed - how can I prove myself to be worthy as their future king - if I cannot fight for what is rightfully ours? Let me go with him, Mum, knowing that I will have your blessing and that you shall not be disappointed with me for leaving."
Her resolve wilting, Dis' eyes softened and she took her son's face in her hands, observing him closely and shaking her head in wonder. "You've grown so much," she murmured, smiling in mingled pride and sorrow for the loss of her little boy.
Memories flashed through her mind: A blond child running pell-mell through the streets, hacking sticks at invisible enemies and tracking mud, leaves and other debris all through the house. An older child, still rambunctious and if possible even more devious, following his brother into all manners of mischief and melting her heart with his crystal blue gaze as he invented clever tales to cover their antics. A young Prince, still her little boy even though the ways of childhood were far behind him, training with Thorin or Dwalin to battle the foes he might one day encounter, pouring his heart into his studies for the day he might rule, sitting beside her in quiet comfort every time that day passed and Kili was not there for her to hold tightly and remember.
Dis knew when she had lost a battle, but that did not make surrendering any less difficult. Her heart felt like it was torn in two; half already buried with the soul of her youngest and the other rapidly vanishing from her sight. Ducking her head to conceal the tears that sparked her eyes, Dis hid her reluctance under a poorly attempted jest.
"Not in that tunic are you going anywhere," she determined with a deep sigh. "And look at your hair; have I raised a Prince or a wharf rat? At least make yourself half-way presentable if you are to be tramping across the countryside with your ragged numbskull of an Uncle."
Fili grinned and swept her into a hug, squeezing Dis' breath from her momentarily in his enthusiasm. "I will come back, Mum," he promised fervently. "I'll be sending for you from Erabor before you know it."
"Not if you can't even make it out the door," Dis pointed out dryly. She waved him out of the room, adding in a fond afternote, "Your Uncle and I have to talk. Go discuss this with Dwalin or get those boots replaced; I will not have you crossing the Mountains in ruined leather - you would be lame before you ever set foot in Erabor."
With a fleeting grin Fili bolted out the door, a hint of his old enthusiasm bringing a lump of nostalgia to Dis' throat. Decades had passed since Kili had been taken from her, and still she expected a rumpled shadow to pelt down the hall in her eldest's wake. Thorin's hand rested on her shoulder and she clutched it instinctively, drawing comfort from his presence as she listened for the joyous laughter that would never fill the house again.
"He will be fine," Thorin assured, associating his sister's far-off gaze with her concern for Fili alone. "I will watch over him, Dis. I promise; I will bring him back to you."
Dis turned around and regarded him with a cool expression, her mind set as she announced, "I am coming with you."
Thorin started at her response, struggling to grasp the words that had flown from his sister's mouth before he rebuked, "The wilderness is no place for a woman, Dis. Stay here where you belong."
"The wilderness is no place for my son, either" Dis retorted emphatically. "Do not bother to argue the point, Thorin; if he goes, so do I." Under her breath she added, "Besides, someone has to make sure you two don't walk around in sodden boots and give yourselves foot rot or set up camp near a hornet's nest."
"Fili is more than capable of taking care of himself," Thorin rolled his eyes. "Did we not discuss this already? How is he expected to prove himself if you mother him constantly?"
"Do not bring my 'mothering skills' into this," Dis retorted, emphasizing each word with a wave of a wooden spoon she had retrieved from the table. "If you are so anxious to have someone as young as Fili at your side, then there can be no further harm if your sister accompanies you as well. I witnessed the destruction of Erabor and I have had to defend myself against Goblins the same as you and Frer- " Dis stopped herself a moment before speaking the name of her deceased brother. "The same as you," she finished quietly.
Earnestly she concluded, "You and Fili are all I have left. Do not ask me to wait here with no knowledge of whether or not either of you are still alive. I will not sit quietly and count the days until your return."
Slinging the spoon over her shoulder she declared with a mischievous grin, "I will ask no special treatment because I am your sister, Thorin; you know I shall follow your every command just as I did during our journey into exile. Do not entertain the notion that you can sneak off early without me, however; you know I am as stubborn as you are."
Perhaps her claims were true, but it did not mean that Thorin would have to agree. Once Dis made up her mind about a matter she would not be swayed from her decision, however, and it would be less trouble to humor her than to argue the matter further.
Dis' reasoning for the fierce protectiveness she held for her son was clear, but in this case Thorin felt it was unnecessary. He would bring Fili home alive by whatever means necessary. He had sworn to it, and Thorin never once backed down from his word.
Thinking back to this time, Thorin wondered if he should have been less attentive to the needs of an heir and taken more considerate regard of the supplications of his sister. If he had listened to Dis' plea; if he had ordered Fili to remain behind; would his nephew have obeyed his commands or would the outcome still have been the same? Thorin would never know, and now it was too late.
Feeling as though he had aged far beyond his years, Thorin forced himself to turn away. His steps were heavy and lethargic as though a mountain had been laid to rest upon his shoulders. He had thought he could endure no more death after Kili had been taken. The loss of his youngest nephew, not even twenty-two summers when the Goblins raided their village, had been a crippling blow which even now waged war in his heart as Thorin debated what he might have done to prevent it. Fili's death was like the final stroke, proclaiming to all the futility of their mission and the wasted efforts to reclaim the land of their forefathers. For what use was Erabor to Thorin now, if it had come at the cost of his greatest treasure?
All that was left to him was the burning vengeance that captivated his thoughts; for the murder of Kili, of Freren and his father and grandfather, and now for the death of his only remaining sister's son. They would reclaim Erabor; not for the glory of an age long past, but for the sake of those who had been slain in the wake of its destruction. Thorin would not rest until the Dragon smoldered in its own inner flames, until Orc and Goblin alike trembled at the very mention of the name Durin, until the corpses of the enemy were piled high for all to see in remembrance of those who had been lost along the way.
Even then Thorin would never be satisfied, for nothing could erase the sorrow branded upon his heart.
A short distance away an unseen figure paused behind the cover of a fir, apprehension battling with the need to confirm that all was not lost. Quietly Bilbo slipped the ring back onto his finger and slipped away, his feet silent in the whispering tall grass as he padded up the mountain slope and prepared to re-enter the darkness.
Gandalf alone detected the slight swish of an intruder that was no native to the mountains. His eyes tracked the faint crumpling of grass under light footsteps, the brush of a leaf bending against the direction of the wind. Perhaps he knew something; perhaps he suspected. Without a word he turned away, however, ordering Thorin to continue on before night fell and the Goblins returned in droves too great to number.
Mini-muse is not pleased with the author. Neocolai wants to save the next arc for her birthday on Sunday, and Mini-muse wanted Kili to be in this chapter. The author wins this round and the Mini-muse sulks and swears to convince all the reviewers to procrastinate. Clearly we will not be speaking until chapter 3 has been posted.
Meanwhile, the Original Muse will take all reviews and sip the double-shot chocolate mocha which hyped it up for the next dramatically emotional chapter on Kili's part. (A rare beneficiary factor of coffee.)
Please remember to feed the Muses (and console Mini-muse) so that the next chapter can be posted as soon as possible. ;)
A Little Side-Note: "Dwarrow" is plural for Dwarves. This is my first fanfic to have the correct conjugation.
