Myrrh woke to the sound of moving armor and footfalls in the tent. The sun had not yet risen, but Thorin's armor glinted in the candlelight. She got up and lifted the candle.

"Thorin…"

"I didn't mean to wake you, beloved."

"Is this wise?" she asked softly. "Your army is not well-equipped, nor at full strength."

He sighed deeply and turned to her.

"I must support Thrór's decision. We cannot allow ourselves to fracture. And we have a chance."

"But the dragon-"

He cupped her face gently.

"My love, I will return to you. I have returned to you every night for the past seven years. I will not be brash now for your sake." His hands slid down her sides to hold her rounded belly and he kissed her tenderly. Myrrh gazed up at him, her eyes moist with worry.

"Are Ferin and Kalín going with you…?" He nodded, his eyes growing sharper. "But Dís… she is so close to delivering…"

"I know. Kalín wishes to fight alongside his father, and Balin could never say no to him."

"He knows she's close, does he not?"

"He promised her he would return."

"As you have."

The silence hung between them, thick and heavy, before Thorin wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"By Mahal, I give you my word I will return."

Myrrh choked back her tears, stroking his hair.

"I'll wait for you in Dís's tent." She kissed his wet cheek and rubbed his back. "I'll wait for you."

Dís moaned loudly, sweat beading her brow. Myrrh dipped a cloth in cool water and patted her face gently.

"Something is not right…"

Myrrh held her hand.

"The baby is safe. I know it hurts, sister."

"Not the baby…" Dís stared feverishly at the tent flaps, as if she could see beyond them. "Kalín."

Myrrh bit her lip.

"He gave you his word."

"It's been more than a day." Myrrh nodded.

"I know."

Dís gasped hoarsely and cried out as her body trembled with another contraction.

"Matim?" Fíli peeked in through the tent flap, his eyes wide and his young face still childish despite his burgeoning beard. Myrrh glanced at Dís for approval before urging him inside. "Matim, where is papa?"

"On his way back, Fíli, love…"

Dís's words faded into breathlessness as she groaned, Myrrh's hands anxiously waiting under the quilt, and she looked to her nephew.

"Fíli, could you get some water from the river?"

His face brightened, eager to be useful, and he dashed out with the stone bowl. Dís sighed in relief, still breathing heavily.

"Myrrh… he's gone."

"Just to the river."

"Kalín. He's gone."

"He'll return to you and your children, Dís."

She stared at Myrrh's belly.

"Kalín… Ferin… Thrór, Thráin… Thorin… they're gone, Myrrh."

Sobs shook her body and she screamed, her child crowning.

"Dís, they're going to return."

Her once silver eyes were lackluster as she gazed past Myrrh, past the tent. Myrrh felt the baby drop into her hands, and she lifted the quilt.

"You have another son."

Tears streamed down Dís's face as she gazed at him.

"Kíli."

"Kíli."

Fíli ran back in, spilling water all over himself. Myrrh gently took the bowl from him and placed it on the cot, cleaning off the newborn gently.

"Is that my brother?"

Dís beckoned for her older son and he came close.

"Yes… this is Kíli." She looked at him and stroked his beard softly. "Will you take care of him for your father and I?"

"Yes, matim." She smiled a little and sat up just enough to kiss his forehead. "Matim? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to be with your father, Fíli. We love you both."

"Can we come with you?"

"No, love… not today. Not for a long time, I hope."

"Who will we go with?"

Dís looked pained and Myrrh put a hand on Fíli's shoulder.

"You can come with me. Both of you."

Dís grasped her hand.

"Love them for me. Please… love them."

Her hand fell and it was only then Myrrh realized Kíli was wailing and Fíli had run out of the tent.

"They're back!" he shouted, running back in and tugging on Myrrh's skirt. She stood slowly, her vision wet and blurred. She stepped out of the tent with the squalling newborn in her arms and nearly ran into Thorin, who was covered in blood and dirt. She hugged him tight, sobbing softly into his chainmail as he stood in shock, staring into his sister's tent.

"Dís…"

"I'm sorry, Thorin…I'm so sorry…" She looked past him, searching for Kalín. "Where are…"

"Dead." His flat voice broke and he held her close as he wept. She followed him back to their tent, Fíli silently clinging to her skirts. He took off his armor and sat heavily on their pallet, unresponsive as Fíli climbed into his lap and fell asleep. Myrrh felt her womb contract with grief and tension as she sat beside him, Kíli cradled in her arms. Thorin finally looked down at the baby.

"What did she name him?"

"Kíli."

"For his father." He nodded to himself and rubbed Fíli's back as he shifted. "They're ours now."

"Yes." She looked down at Kíli, who yawned, stirring.

"Do you have… are you able to feed him?"

"I should be..." She leaned forward as he helped her disrobe and the baby quickly started to suckle. "Thorin?" He looked at her, his face lined with worry and sorrow. "Are you the king now…?" He nodded.

"They will not follow me."

"Of course they will."

"I should have died."

Myrrh stared at him.

"Thorin… tell me what happened."

Kíli was sleeping in a makeshift crib beside Fíli as Thorin wept into Myrrh's bosom. She shed her tears silently, stroking his matted locks slowly and rubbing his back.

"He told me to run…"

"He wanted you to preserve his line."

"He isn't gone."

Myrrh stopped.

"But… he didn't return with you-"

"Thráin is not dead." He stood up. "He was not counted among the dead. He was taken."

He turned away, gripping a wooden chest tightly, and Myrrh knew better than to press. She got up slowly and hugged him from behind. His shoulders fell and he began to sob again.

"They will follow you… and even if no one does, I will."