Disclaimer: The Hobbit belongs to Tolkien and Peter Jackson and company.
My Sister's Keeper
Chapter 3
Fili huddled in the corner of his small room, clutching his favorite stuffed horse to his chest. Mother had been afraid when she ordered him to his room; he could tell. Then he'd heard the sound of many feet in the hallway. What was going on?
The four-year-old crept toward the doorway, still hugging his brown horse. The heavy wooden door was shut, but he pressed his ear against it and strained to hear what was going on outside his little room. He could hear muffled voices, but couldn't tell what they were saying. Small fingers worried the yarn tail of the horse as his tummy twisted with worry. Why had Mother sent him to his room?
He heard the heavy footsteps leave, but Mother still didn't come to get him. Fili's fingers worked the yarn in the horse's tail feverishly, and he kept his ear pressed to the door hoping for some clue as to what was going on.
Time seemed to drag. Fili was thirsty, but Mother had said not to leave his room. The little dwarf sighed and pulled away from the door. The house had grown quiet. He shuffled to his bed and crawled up onto the warm, blue coverlet. He was quite sleepy, really. Maybe he'd just lie down for a while.
There was a soft nock on the door, and then Uncle Thorin's friend, Balin, poked his head inside the boy's room. "Hello, laddie," he smiled. "I thought I'd keep you company for a bit while your Mother is busy."
Fili sat up cross-legged on the bed and cuddled his horse on his lap. "Mr. Balin, what is Mother doing?"
The older dwarf made his way to the bed after shutting the door securely behind him and sat down on the edge of the straw mattress. Ruffling Fili's blonde hair, he smiled at the worried little boy. "Your Mother is taking care of some things right now," he assured the worried four-year-old.
A keening sound permeated the air turning to screams of anger and grief. Fili nearly jumped out of his skin. "Mother!" he cried, nearly falling off of the bed in his haste to get to her.
Balin caught the child and pulled him into his lap.
"Mother!" Fili cried again, fighting against Balin's arms.
"She needs some time alone, young Fili," Thorin's friend soothed. He began to rock back and forth and sang softly.
Fili cried against him, his little horse clutched to his chest. Mother was crying and Da and Uncle Thorin were away fighting the orcs. He had never felt so alone.
The afternoon drug on; it never seemed to end. Fili had finally slipped out of Balin's arms to lie against his pillow on the bed. The house was silent now; the sorrowful sounds had faded and then stopped all together.
A soft snoring mewl drew the young dwarf's attention. Opening one eyelid, he snuck a look at Balin. The bearded dwarf was leaning back against the wall sleeping soundly as muted snores escaped his lips.
Fili waited until the snores grew deeper and louder. That's how he always knew Da was good and asleep. Slowly and carefully, he slid off of the side of the bed, leaving his horse behind, and crept on tiptoe to the door. He gripped the heavy handle and twisted it open. It turned with a squeak.
Fili cast a quick glance over his shoulder, but Balin continued to snore in slumber. The child breathed a sigh of relief and slipped quietly into the hallway. He was determined to find his mother. The living room was empty and silent, so Fili checked the kitchen. That, too, was deserted.
He retreated back down the hallway, passing his own room, until he came to the one that belonged to his parents. The door was closed. Sucking in a deep breath, Fili tried to be brave like Da and Uncle Thorin. He turned the heavy doorknob and pushed the door open. The room was bathed in semi-darkness. Fili could make out two forms huddled on the bed. "Mother?" he called softly. "Da?"
He crept closer until he could reach to pat his mother on the back. "Mother?" he called as he shook her gently.
Dis jerked awake and pushed up on one elbow, unsure of what had jolted her from slumber. She glanced at her brother. His face was flushed with fever and sweat shone on his brow. He had not awakened. Then she heard the frightened little voice.
"Mother?"
Everything flooded back to her in a rush. Ehren was gone, and he wasn't coming back. She wanted to scream once more at the unfairness of it all, but her son needed her. She heard him sniffle behind her and took a fortifying breath of air before turning to look at him.
"Mother, are you sick?" Fili asked, his blue eyes widening as he took in her red, puffy eyes and disheveled appearance.
"No, my love, I am not sick," she assured him although she felt as if she was dying inside.
Fili tried to look past her to the form on the bed. "Is Da sleeping?"
Dis blinked in pain at her son's words. "No, Fili." She leaned over and lifted her four-year-old up onto the bed so that he could see his uncle.
Fili frowned. "Why is Uncle's face so red? Where is Da?"
"Uncle Thorin was injured in the battle. He has a fever now and is very sick," Dis explained, her voice scratchy from her earlier expression of grief.
"Is that why you were crying?" Fili asked, his blue eyes studying her face carefully.
Dis looked down at her son and felt tears well in her eyes once again. Fili adored his father. How was she going to tell her four-year-old that his da wasn't coming home?
"Mother?" Fili asked again. He was scared. He didn't remember ever seeing his mother cry. Maybe Uncle Thorin was dying. Uncle was Mother's big brother, and she loved him very much. Fili loved him, too. He would be very sad if Uncle Thorin died. He glanced over at the dwarf king's sleeping form. Thorin hadn't moved. Was he breathing? Fili couldn't tell in the shadows of the room.
"Fili," Dis began hesitantly, "my sweet son." She held him tightly and smoothed his blonde hair back from his face. "You look so much like your da."
Fili looked up into her face. Her voice sounded so sad. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and that made Fili begin to cry, too.
"Fili, the battle with the orcs was very fierce," she choked out. "Uncle Thorin was injured terribly, and your da…" she trailed off, swallowing hard and looking at the ceiling.
His little heart pounding in his chest, Fili froze. His fingers clutched his mother's sleeve tightly. He could feel her shaking beneath him.
"Fili, your Da was hurt badly by the orcs. He was hurt so badly that….that…" Dis trailed off and held her son tightly to her chest, burying her face in his soft, blonde hair. "Fili, Da isn't coming home. His injuries were too bad. He died, my son. He has gone to the Halls of Waiting."
She released her hold as Fili squirmed and pulled back so that he could see her face. His blue eyes, so like hers and Thorin's, stared up at her in confusion. "Da isn't coming back?" he asked.
"No, Fili. When people die, they can't come back."
The child's face crumpled. "But I want him to, Mother. I want Da."
"I know," Dis soothed, cupping her son's face in one of her trembling hands. "I want him, too."
Fili's gaze landed on his uncle. "And Uncle Thorin? Will he die, too?" the little boy asked in a quivering voice.
"I hope not," Dis told him, "but Fili, Uncle Thorin is very sick."
The child wrenched himself from his mother's hold and reached for Thorin.
"Be careful of his bandages, Fili," Dis cautioned. "Stay up by his shoulder."
The little boy was sobbing now, his little body shaking all over. He buried his face in his uncle's bare shoulder and buried one hand in Thorin's tangled brown hair. "Don't leave, Uncle. Don't leave like Da."
"Oh, Fili," Dis choked out. She curled herself around her son and placed a hand against her brother's arm. Both mother and son cried themselves to sleep.
Thorin was first aware of a throbbing pain deep inside of him. It hurt to take a full breath, so he forced himself to take careful, shallow ones instead. An ache radiated from his shoulder up into his neck and down his arm. His side burned like fire; he felt as if he was being scorched from the inside out. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a wooden ceiling. His mouth was as dry as cotton; it was difficult to swallow.
A warm weight rested on his good shoulder. He turned his head slightly, pain shooting through him as he did so. Blonde hair scratched his chin. Fili. Behind his nephew rested the tear-streaked face of his sister.
Thorin suddenly wished he were dead. Why couldn't Ehren be the one lying here in bed with his family? Thorin would have gladly traded places with his brother-in-law to save his sister and his nephew the agony of such a loss. Pain lanced through him once again, although this time it wasn't physical, as Fili whimpered in his sleep.
The child had tear-stains on his face. Did he know that Ehren wasn't coming home? Grief and guilt took hold of Thorin. He brushed his lips against Fili's forehead and vowed that he would stand by Dis and Fili in whatever ways they needed him. More than anything, he wished he could have taken Ehren's place. Dis's husband had died to save Thorin's life. Would Dis even be able to look at her brother again once she learned the circumstances of her husband's death? Would Thorin lose the only family he had left once Dis heard the truth?
He tried shifting in the bed. Pain greater than he had ever known radiated through his side and set black spots to dancing before his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath in an effort to ease his pain, and his broken ribs responded with sharp stabbing jolts of agony. Thorin found blessed relief when darkness claimed him.
To Be Continued…
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