Disclaimer: The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R .Tolkien and Peter Jackson and company.

My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 4

Thorin woke to the feeling of a cool rag being placed against his forehead. He blinked his eyes open cautiously and found his sister standing above him, her face creased in a worried frown. Hope sprung into her gaze when she realized he was awake.

"Thorin," she breathed, tears immediately welling in her blue eyes.

The dwarf king tried to speak, but his mouth was still dry. Dis turned away from the bed and he could hear her pouring him a glass of water. Thorin used the moment alone to take stock of things. His shoulder throbbed painfully, his side burned from the inside out, and he still couldn't take a deep breath. In other words, he was miserable.

His sister returned and lifted his head with one hand while she held a glass of water to his lips. Thorin drank greedily and grunted when Dis pulled the glass away.

"Not too much," she cautioned. "It will make you sick."

Thorin studied his sister's face as she placed the glass on the bedside table. Did she know about Ehren? Surely someone had told her, Balin or perhaps Dwalin. Her face was pale and sad. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Her long dark hair, usually decorated with intricate braids befitting a woman of the House of Durin hung in limp tangles.

"Dis," he began hesitantly, not knowing what else to say to his grieving baby sister, "I'm sorry about Ehren."

She turned to look at him, her expression one of agony and grief. "I miss him so much, Thorin," she sighed, "but I know he will be waiting for me."

Guilt twisted painfully in Thorin's gut, and it had nothing to do with the injuries he had received in the battle. The water had helped his throat and the dwarf king found himself able to speak. "How can you even look at me, Dis? Ehren died because of me," Thorin growled softly in order not to wake Fili who still cuddled against his uncle's shoulder. "If you want me to go, I can stay with Balin."

"Thorin Oakenshield," Dis fumed, allowing a few curses to escape her lips, "you are my brother, and I love you. You will not be going anywhere. This is not your fault. Ehren chose to give his life for his king. You were like a brother to him." Her voice broke on her words, but she plowed on. "Don't you know that I would give my life for yours without a second thought just as you would do for me? You would have given yours for Ehren, wouldn't you?" she asked, fixing her brother with a pointed stare and daring him to disagree.

It took several seconds, but Thorin finally nodded slightly. "Aye, I would have."

"My husband died a brave and honorable death. Don't you dare take that from him with your guilt," Dis fussed, tenderly brushing her brother's long, dark hair back from his face.

Thorin shifted as he tried once again to get comfortable and winced as pain speared him.

"Mother?" a quiet voice whispered from his side, "is Uncle Thorin dying like Da?"

"No, Fili," Thorin managed as he worked to regulate his breathing in a way that made it less painful. "I will be well again in time."

"Uncle!" Fili shouted as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. "Da isn't coming home, Uncle. I was afraid you were going to leave, too." His little shoulders shook with sobs, and Thorin's heart broke again. Guilt filled him once more, but he would not voice it, not in front of his sister. He would bear his burden silently.

"If you're careful, Fili, you can get right here under my arm so I can hold you close," Thorin told his only nephew.

"Thorin-," Dis cautioned.

"Sister, it's all right," the dwarf king replied as Fili squirmed until he made his way under his uncle's arm and against Thorin's good side. "There we go, Fili," he sighed as he felt the child's warm, pleasant weight against him. "Just lie still now, that's a good lad."

"I love you, Uncle Thorin," Fili murmured, his right hand reaching up to tangle in Thorin's dark hair once again.

"And I love you, little Fili," Thorin replied.

Dis felt a lump form in her throat. Fili might not have his father, but at least he would have her big brother to guide him to adulthood. She tucked the blankets in securely around them both. Thorin was already drifting off to sleep again, but Fili watched her with his big blue eyes, eyes of the House of Durin.

After keeping herself busy by straightening up the room and preparing new bandages for when Thorin awakened, Dis sank into a chair beside the bed. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. Ehren was gone; he wasn't coming home. The thought made her ache inside and a strange emptiness filled her. Any minute she felt as if her blonde-haired, brown-eyed husband should come laughing through the front door, his wide smile brightening her day. Ehren had always been full of laughter and jokes, his joy in life contagious. She stifled a sob against her fist. It wouldn't do to wake Thorin and Fili.

Her brother moaned on the bed, and she raised her head to look at him. Beads of sweat covered his brow and a splash of red shone high on each of his cheeks. His fever was rising. Maybe she should check his wound.

Rising, Dis shook Fili with gentle hands. "Fili, love, wake up."

The boy shifted groggily and wiped his eyes with his hand once he untangled it from Thorin's hair. "Mother?"

"I need you to wake up, Fili. It's time for me to change Uncle's bandages. Go play in your room or in the kitchen like a good lad. I'll be there shortly."

Fili looked over at Thorin. "Why is Uncle so sweaty?"

"He has a fever, Fili. Remember when you were sick last month with a fever? All you wanted to do was sleep and you were cold one minute and all sweaty the next."

Fili nodded solemnly. He'd felt miserable. He hoped Uncle Thorin didn't feel as bad as he had. The four-year-old leaned over to press a kiss to his uncle's cheek before allowing his mother to lift him off the bed.

"Off with you, then," Dis told her son, forcing a smile for the child's sake. Inside, however, she was quaking and terrified. What if they lost Thorin, too? She felt as if what was left of her heart would shatter into a million pieces and she would never be able to pull herself together again.

Squaring her shoulders, Dis pulled back the blankets and began the painstaking task of removing Thorin's bandages. It was a slow and tedious task, but the angry, puss-filled wound made her stomach turn. "No," she gasped. Pulling the blankets back up in case Fili entered the room, Dis wiped her hands and hurried to grab her cloak.

"Fili!" she called.

The little boy looked up from where he was playing with his wooden animals in front of the fire.

"Stay here and listen out for Uncle Thorin. I will be right back. I need a healer to look at Uncle's wound."

Fili sat up, his little face full of terror. "Is Uncle dying?"

Dis moved to kneel in front of her son. She cupped his face in her hand. "My sweet Fili, Uncle's wound is infected. It won't get better unless a healer takes care of it. You let me worry about Uncle Thorin."

The child nodded, but Dis could tell her words had not helped his fears. Her poor son had lost his father and now was just a hair away from losing his only uncle as well. She stood and whirled toward the door, not wanting Fili to see the tears that had formed in her eyes. Blinking hard, she willed them not to fall.

Dis hurried the few blocks to where Oin kept a small clinic of sorts in his home. She pounded on the front door, hoping it would be loud enough for him to hear her. She blinked in surprise when Thorin's friend Bofur opened the door.

"Lady Dis," he nodded, "I am so sorry to hear of your loss."

"Thank you, Bofur, but I need Oin. Thorin's wound is infected, and I fear it needs to be lanced."

"What's that, Lady Dis?" Oin asked, positioning his ear trumpet as he joined Bofur at the door.

"Thorin's wound is infected and in need of lancing," she sighed, her voice tight with worry.

"I'll gather my things and be right there," the healer assured her.

Bofur took her arm and guided her out. "May I walk you home? I thought perhaps young Fili could join me at the toy shop. He's had a rough few days and maybe a new play thing would cheer him up while Oin takes care of Thorin."

Dis was so grateful for the kindness of their friends. A small smile curved her lips. "Thank you, Bofur. That would be most appreciated." She allowed the toy maker to open the door for her when they reached her home. Dis bit her lip to keep the tears from flowing when it felt empty inside because Ehren wasn't there.

Fili ran to her side and threw his arms around her. "I missed you, Mother," he cried.

She scooped him into her arms and he noticed Bofur for the first time. His blue eyes widened. "Hi, Mr. Bofur," he said sadly.

"Hello, laddie," Bofur smiled, reaching out to ruffle Fili's blonde hair.

"Mr. Bofur, Da isn't coming home anymore," the four-year-old said sadly, "and Uncle Thorin got hurt real bad."

"Aye, young master dwarf," Bofur nodded. "I was very sorry to hear the news. I thought you might like to visit the toy shop with me while your mother and Oin see to Thorin."

Fili's eyes lit up for a moment before they dimmed and he glanced at his mother. "Mother might need me. I have to help her since Da won't be home."

Dis swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Fili had always had a serious nature, much like Thorin, but she hated that at four years old he felt so much responsibility on his shoulders. "I will be fine, Fili. Mr. Oin will be here with me. You go one with Mr. Bofur."

Fili hugged his mother hard before he slid from her arms and took Bofur's hand. "I'll be back soon, Mother," he promised.

She nodded, unable to speak. Oin was knocking at the door then, and she hurried to let him in as Bofur slipped out with Fili. The little boy waved as the toymaker led him down the dusty, rocky road.

Oin shuffled down the hallway to the bedroom followed closely by Dis. Thorin was thrashing on the bed caught up in his fever. His sister hurried to his side and wet a rag with cool water, sponging down his face.

"Shh, Brother, Oin is here, and he will help you." She stroked the tangled dark hair back from the dwarf king's face and promised herself that she would plait it in a braid after the healer left.

Oin pulled back the blankets and tutted as he looked at the wound. "Yes, this will definitely need lancing," he sighed. "Looks mighty bad, Lady Dis."

"Will we lose him, Oin? Will I lose my brother?" She tried to square her shoulders and look strong, but the emotional toll the past few days had taken was great. Tears threatened yet again, but she managed to blink them back.

"Thorin is strong," the healer assured her. "If there is a dwarf that can survive this wound, it is Thorin." Oin rummaged in his bag and produced a packet of tea. "Lady Dis, would you brew this for your brother. If we can get some down him, it will help with both the fever and the pain."

She nodded and pressed a kiss to her brother's forehead. "I will be back, Thorin." Hurrying to the kitchen, she warmed water over the fire and was very careful not to spill even the smallest bit of the packet of tea Oin had given her.

When she arrived back in the bedroom, Thorin was crying out in delirium, asking for Frerin and begging Dis' forgiveness for Ehren's death. She hurried to his side with the tea. "No, Thorin, it isn't your fault. You mustn't blame yourself." It was unsettling to see tears running down her big brother's cheeks as he cried like a young child.

Oin lifted the dwarf king's head, and together they managed to get most of the tea down him. He quieted after that, and Dis gripped his hand tightly between both of her own as Oin prepared the things he would need.

"Thorin, you need to stay strong," Dis pleaded quietly. "Fili and I need you."

"Alright," Oin sighed, "I'm ready to begin."

Dis nodded resolutely and gripped her brother's hand in one of hers while leaning over to stroke his forehead in a way their mother had done for them when they were ill as children. When Oin made the first cut, Thorin's eyes flew open and he groaned.

"Sh, Brother, you will be fine. The wound is infected, but Oin is caring for it."

Thorin cursed and tried to twist away from Oin's grasp. "Hold him still," the healer cried, angry with himself for not bringing along another set of hands to help hold onto the dwarf king.

Dis pressed herself against her brother as hard as she dared, trying to be careful of his broken ribs. "Hold still, Thorin," she begged. "Let Oin finish."

The minutes seemed to drag by until Oin leaned back with a sigh. "There, all done. I think it looks much better now. We'll leave the wound open to air until morning."

Dis sagged against her brother's good shoulder, exhausted. "Thank you, Oin," she nearly cried. "I don't know what Fili and I would do without Thorin."

To be continued…