Beads of sweat ran down Thorin's neck, beneath his collar and down his back, drenching his already saturated undershirt. The Dwarven king, however, couldn't bring himself to care, and he kept working hard at the forge, hammering at the sword he was crafting. Around him, Balin and Dwalin bustled around, the three of them knowing, after such a long time, how to work together without getting in each other's road.
Thorin actually enjoyed working as a blacksmith. There was something meaningful about creating something new...something that might make a difference in someone's life, be it a new blade for a plough or some horseshoes, or a sword, like the one he was crafting with skill and precision.
It was getting late, the sun low in the sky, but Thorin still worked hard, wanting to finish the sword before the end of the day's work. Finally he set his hammer down, and put the sword into a barrel of water to cool, before setting it aside to dry by the heat of the forge, before being put away with the rest of the day's work. Thorin pulled off his thick gloves, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and walked to the open door to the Forge, looking out at the night, admiring the sunset.
Around them, the other store holders were packing up for the day, locking up their businesses and stores, and heading off to their homes. Many of them smiled and waved, or inclined their heads politely when they saw Thorin. Thorin knew almost all of them, having all worked side by side ever since Ered Luin had been settled, almost ten years before. Many of them had families, and dwarf children, some of whom were about Fíli's age, and who Thorin's son played with, under the supervision of Dís and a few of the other dwarf women.
Thorin smiled when he thought of his little, golden haired, baby boy. Not so much of a baby now, but a toddler, getting into all sorts of mischief and amazingly quick on his feet. Fíli was five years old, as he liked to tell anyone who would listen, and Thorin had been surprised by how quickly the years had passed. It still only seemed like yesterday when he had cradled a newborn Fíli to his chest, promising to protect him from harm.
With every day that had passed since then Fíli had grown to resemble his mother and her brother. He had Thorin's nose, and there were elements of Thorin in his face, but Thorin could tell Fíli was going to end up most closely resembling Gíli. Thorin didn't mind...in fact, he was grateful that Fíli hadn't inherited Thorin's distinctive features. If he did, and something happened and he was kidnapped, it would be much more difficult to pass Fíli off as an ordinary dwarf, and not a member of the line of Durin...Not the heir of Thorin Oakenshield himself.
Thorin was drawn from his musings by the sound of horns being sounded, and the smile abruptly fell from his face. He knew what those horns meant. The settlement was under attack. Turning back to the forge Thorin collected his sword from where it was kept, relieved to see that Balin and Dwalin had done the same with their own weaponry.
Together, the three ran into the streets, towards the edges of the town. Thorin heard the sounds of dwarven boots, and knew the rest of his people had heard the warning, and all those who could fight were joining them, ready to defend their homes.
Thorin was the first to spot the small army of about fifty orcs, running towards the village, and let out a roar, charging towards them, drawing his sword and refusing to even contemplate the thought of the orcs getting any closer to the village...of them getting any closer to Dís and Fíli.
Behind him Thorin heard Balin and Dwalin take up the battle cry, and the other dwarves, give battle cries of their own, echoing him, before charging at the orcs, weapons drawn and ready.
Thorin hit the orcs with force, taking the head clean off the first orc he met with one swing of his sword. He quickly cut a thick line through the orcs, Balin and Dwalin flanking him on both sides, watching his back and protecting one another's as well.
The orcs at the front weren't well trained, but the orcs to the rear of the attacking force were larger, and were better trained, better armoured, and stronger. The falling darkness did not help matters, and Thorin found that the fighting was getting difficult. Still, he refused to slow down...to risk his family's life by letting an ordinary band of orcs get the better of him. A quick glance around told him that the other dwarves were fighting just as hard. Well over half the orcs lay on the ground, dead or mortally injured.
"Thorin," Thorin turned at the sound of his name, and duck, just in time to avoid having his head taken off. He struck out with his sword, plunging it deep into the chest of the orc responsible, before he pulled it out, spinning to attack again...
Only not expecting to see the Orc behind him, until it was too late.
Searing pain erupted in Thorin abdomen, and he gasped, almost doubling over in pain, before remembering that he was in the middle of a battle, and bringing up his sword just in time. He killed the orc that had cut him, before he raised his left arm, touching where it was the most painful. His hand came away drenched in blood, and Thorin scowled, straightening and forcing himself to ignore the pain...the ebbing weakness as his lifeblood drained from his body.
It wasn't the first time Thorin had carried on fighting after being injured, and he hoped it would not be the last. He knew that his movements were slower than normal, his blocks and parries weaker, but it was all he could do to keep going...to protect his people, to protect Dís and Fíli.
Still, when Thorin killed an orc, and looked around, seeing no more Orcs standing, and few that were injured, and were being finished off by other dwarves, he let out a groan and dropped heavily to his knees.
"Thorin," Dwalin yelled, dropping to his knees beside Thorin, supporting Thorin's weight from behind. Thorin blinked, knowing from the way his vision was greying...the way the world kept tilting, that the blood loss was worse than he had thought.
"Balin, get Oin...Thorin's hurt," Dwalin ordered, and Balin nodded, running to find the healer, leaving Thorin and Dwalin behind.
"You stay with me," Dwalin mutters, ripping his shirt and using it to put pressure on Thorin's wound, "No going to sleep, you hear?"
Thorin nodded, knowing that he needed to stay awake...even though he felt exhaustion nipping at his heels.
"The orcs?" Thorin asked.
"All dead...none of them got close to the village."
"Good," Thorin nodded, wincing in pain as Dwalin pressed harder against the wound.
"Don't worry, Oin's coming, he'll get you patched up in no time."
Thorin grunted, letting his head lean back against Dwalin. Not surviving this skirmish had never been an option as far as Thorin was concerned...not with the secret Dís had sworn him to keep in his chest, waiting for the opportune moment to bust out.
Dís was pregnant, Thorin was going to have a second child, and Fíli would become a big brother. It was still early days, and Dís had made Thorin promise not to tell anyone until she thought things were a little more advanced.
Thorin knew what had brought Dís' caution on. The previous winter one of Dís' best friends had been with child, but she had lost the baby, and the pitying looks she had been given afterwards had made the poor woman feel even worse, according to Dis. Thorin, for his part, wanting to announce it to his closest friends and advisors, but he respected Dís' wishes.
A glance up at Dwalin's concerned face, however, told Thorin that his survival wasn't assured, and fear stabbed at his heart.
"Dwalin...you have to protect Dís and Fíli...If something happens to me you have to look after them. Dís she...she will need your help...and Balin's"
"Thorin...I don't want to hear it. You are not going to die. Stop talking like that."
"Promise me," Thorin said, a hint of desperation seeping into his voice. Dwalin tightened his grip on Thorin when he realised his King was literally begging him to make the promise.
"I promise I will look after them...but they aren't going to need me...they're going to have you."
"I hope so," Thorin admitted. For so long he had been prepared to meet his death, but now his life was finally coming together...things were going well for once, and Thorin wanted to be alive to keep things coming. He wanted to see his second child. He wanted to see Fíli and his brother or sister grow up. He wanted to be their when they picked up a sword for the first time...to braid their hair for them, to tell them stories and sing to them about Erebor.
"Thorin!" It was Balin's voice, and Thorin forced himself to move his head, albeit sluggishly towards his fired, relived to see Oin and Gloin accompanying him. Upon seeing his leader Oin immediately got to work, examining the wound. Thorin fought the urge to look at the wound when Oin carefully lifted the rough improvised bandage Dwalin was using, knowing from experience that it was never a wise idea.
Oin frowned, "We need to get him inside. The bleeding has slowed, but I fear the chance of infection is high...orcs never keep their swords clean."
"I sent some of the younger dwarves to fetch stretchers for the injured," Gloin told his brother, who nodded, knowing that between Thorin and the other injured dwarves, he was going to have a busy few days.
Thorin blinked wearily, noticing that it was getting harder to stay awake. He tried to focus on Oin's face, but his vision greyed and blurred alarmingly, and his head felt too heavy to hold up anymore. Thorin let his head lean back against Dwalin's chest, and it lolled to the side.
"Thorin...Thorin...wake up," Dwalin said, giving Thorin's arm a shake. Thorin groaned, blinking up at Dwalin.
"Protect them?" Thorin asked.
It was Dwalin's turn to blink, "Always...you don't have to ask."
Thorin didn't reply, instead his eyes slid closed, and he went limp, unable to fight off unconsciousness any longer.
"Thorin? Thorin! Wake up! Don't even think about dying like this," Dwalin yelled in alarm. Frowning Oin reached out, taking Thorin's wrist. He waited a moment, before nodding.
"It's all right, Dwalin, he is merely resting. This is Thorin we're talking about; he has had far worse wounds before and lived to tell the tale. I imagine that, providing we stave off any infection, he will make a full recovery."
"Has anyone told Dís?" Dwalin asked, and Balin and Gloin exchanged guilty looks.
'You stay here, with him, and I'll go tell her." Balin said, rising to his feet. Dwalin nodded. Balin and Dís got along well...and someone needed to tell her before they carried Thorin, unconscious through her door
Balin ran as fast as he could up the hill to the village, skirting around the marketplace, and heading towards Thorin's home. Thorin and Dís' house set a little away from others, so it took awhile. Balin was relieved to note that there was no evidence of the orcs ever having made it this far. It seemed that the orcs he, Dwalin and Thorin had encountered had been the extent of the attacking force. He knocked on Dís' front door, and Dís was quick to answer it, Fíli in his arms. The boy was dressed for bed, and had his head resting sleepily on his mother's shoulder.
"Balin...what happened, we heard the horns?" Dís asked, anxious for news as she stepped aside to let Balin in. Balin sighed, crossing the threshold and waiting for Dís to close the door before replying.
"A group of about fifty orcs, some heavily armoured and well trained...possibly from the Blue Mountains...we've had some problems with orcs from there recently. We were able to fight them off...we had superior numbers...and Thorin wasn't going to let any orc anywhere near you and the lad."
"Where is he?" Dís asked, running her fingers through Fíli's blonde hair.
"He got hurt...Oin thinks he'll be fine, barring an infection, but he was unconscious when I left"
Dís nodded, fighting the urge to sob. After so many years she was used to Thorin's habit of getting injured, but it still made her heart pound in her chest every time it happened. How close had it been this time, she wondered, resisting the desire to rub her belly, where Thorin's second child lay. Balin was observant, he would notice, and Dís was too frightened to let anyone other than Thorin know for now. Fíli didn't even know about his younger brother or sister yet.
"What's wrong, Mama?" Fíli asked, "Where's Papa?"
"He'll be back soon, Fíli...He just had to deal with the orcs."
"The horns...they told papa that there were orcs, didn't they?"
"Yes, that's right, they did," Dís nodded.
"Is papa okay?"
Dís hesitated," No...Not right now...but he will be...soon. It just means that you'll have to be extra quiet, okay. No jumping up on papa wanting a story until he gets better or you might accidently hurt him."
Fíli nodded, "Okay," he whispered, "I can be quiet, and I'll be good and look after you, mama...until papa gets better, and he can look after you again."
"An excellent idea, Fíli," Balin smiled, "I'm sure your papa would be very proud of you if you looked after your mama for him."
"Listen, Fíli, how about you go to bed...I'm sure you must be very tired, it's past your bed time, and tomorrow morning, depending on how papa is feeling, you can sit with him, and he might tell you a story," Dís offered. Fíli, who thankfully was an obedient child, most of the time, nodded.
"Since he's here, can Uncle Balin tell me a bed time story?" Fíli asked, yawning. Dís forced a smile.
"I don't know, would that be alright with Uncle Balin?" Dís asked, and Balin nodded.
'I would be honoured to, Fíli."
Fíli beamed, and Dís set him down on the floor. Balin took Fíli hand and led him down the passageway to Fíli's room, leaving Dís alone in the main living area of her and Thorin's home. The moment Fíli and Balin were out of sight, and earshot, Dís let out the sob that had been building within her ever since Balin had told her that Thorin was injured, her hand going to her still flat stomach. Thorin could have missed out on ever seeing his second child...she could have had to raise both of her boys alone, although she would doubtlessly have help from others, such as Balin and Dwalin, and Thorin's other friends.
Thorin's death would mean that Fíli, at the age of five, would become the rightful king of Erebor (presumably, since no-one was really sure if Thrain, Thorin's father, was alive or dead). Even though Erebor had been lost to Smaug, the role of king was still a heavy mantle, and Dís couldn't imagine pinning the title and the attached responsibilities on anyone anywhere close to Fili's age. She had seen the steady wearing down the title had on Thorin, who had carried it ever since Thrain's departure and she didn't want to see her little boy subjected to the same pressure...not so early into his life anyway.
Dís heard a noise outside, and glanced out a window, spotting Dwalin, Gloin, and Oin coming up the road, baring a stretcher between them, and she hurried to open the door, letting them straight in. Her eyes fell on Thorin's pale face, and her heart leapt into her mouth.
"He's alright lass," Oin told her comfortingly, "Dwalin did a good job of keeping pressure on the wound, so the bleeding as stopped. I'd say Thorin will be his usually, cheerful self in no time."
Dís nodded, forcing herself to take a deep, steadying breath as she followed the others into her and Thorin's bedroom, where they transferred him into their bed. Thorin stirred at the movement, mumbled something and then went back to sleep. Oin nodded in approval.
"That's fine. I want to clean the wound, and I know I would rather be unconscious already if someone was about to do that to me."
Dwalin snorted, pulling Dís into a comforting hug, rubbing her back soothingly while Gloin helped his brother clean Thorin up and clean his wound, before going to the kitchen to prepare a special herb blend that would help with any pain Thorin felt.
Eventually Dís and Dwalin were joined by Balin, who reported that Fíli was sound asleep in his room. Dís hugged him in gratitude for looking after her son, knowing full well that she wouldn't have been able to reassure Fíli about his father's wellbeing while she was still worried sick about Thorin herself.
Oin stepped back, and turned to face Dis.
"Well, I'd say he's settled for tonight. I've cleaned the wound as much as I can, and I put some salve on it to protect and fight against infection. I imagine he'll sleep for the rest of the night, and possible tomorrow morning as well. If he develops a fever or if there are any signs of infection come and find me."
Dís nodded and hugged Oin, "Thank you for looking after him...I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him."
"It's quite alright, your highness...don't you forget to have a rest as well, alright...you've got the little one to look after as well as Thorin...you'll need your strength."
"Don't worry, Oin," Dwalin said, putting his arm around Dís' shoulder, "She's got help."
"I am glad. I will see you about midday, if not before, to change Thorin's bandages and to check up on him.
Oin and Gloin left, taking their things with them, and Dwalin and Balin decided that it was a good time to go and collect what they would need, having both wordlessly decided that they would be staying with Dís until Thorin was back on his feet. Alone, at last, with Thorin, Dís sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers through Thorin's hair.
"I love you so much," she whispered, "Please don't leave me alone."
Thorin didn't reply, and Dís sat in silence holding his hand and running her fingers through Thorin's hair, watching over him until the others returned. By then it was late, and the long day was catching up to her...she always seemed to be tired these days, thanks to the new life she had growing within her. So she wouldn't disturb Thorin Dís went and slept beside Fíli, holding her eldest son close to her, until she fell sound asleep, unable to keep her eyes open any longer.
THE HOBBIT
Thorin groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness, his eyelids struggling to open. Eventually, though, he mastered them, and he looked about, recognising his and Dis's room. Dís herself was sitting beside him, holding onto his hand, smiling at him.
"Thorin...thank goodness you're alright. I was so afraid," she said, leaning over and kissing him. Thorin blinked, everything coming back...the orc attack, the wound...all of it.
"Fíli?" he asked. Dís smiled.
"Dwalin has taken him for a walk to the market to go and get some food for dinner. He will be happy to hear that you've woken up," Dís told him.
"How long has it been?"
"The attack was last night, and it is mid afternoon now. Oin did not seem concerned with how much you slept.
Thorin nodded, beginning to move in the bed, but wincing when his stomach throbbed in pain.
"Oin also recommended that, when you do wake up, you shouldn't move around."
Thorin sniffed, "Since when have I ever listened to Oin's advice?"
"Well, that is true. At least now we know it is you, and not an imposter." Dís teased. Thorin smiled at her, before taking her hand in his own, tugging on it. Dís bent over, and Thorin carefully reached up, cupping the back of her head so he could pull her down and kiss her.
"I love you," he told her, "Are you alright?" Thorin's gaze dropped, and Dís knew he was talking about their baby.
"Yes...Fíli was a proper gentleman this morning, and held my hair back for me when I was...purging my stomach. He promised last night that he would take care of me for you while you were hurt, but I didn't think he would actually take it that far."
Thorin laughed, although he stopped quickly due to the pain, "How did you explain that to him,"
"I told him that my dinner was disagreeing with me, and not to worry...but I wouldn't be surprised if he's telling Dwalin about it right now."
"So...can we tell people yet?" Thorin asked. Dís smiled when she saw the hopeful look on Thorin's face. She sighed, knowing that Thorin had been itching to tell people the moment she had found out.
"Yes...It's been a few more weeks, I daresay we should announce it...I'm probably going to be showing soon anyway...although we need to tell Fíli first...it's his baby brother or sister after all."
"Agreed," Thorin nodded, unable to wipe his smile off his face. Dís bent down and kissed him again.
"You're hopeless," she told Thorin, who quirked an eyebrow at her.
"And you wouldn't have me any other way," Thorin replied.
"Of course," Dís smiled, before their lips met once again.