Half of Heart
Summary:
The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC
Chapter 9: A Year Later. Know Your Colors
TA 2780
Thorin: 34 yrs.
Lirin: 30 yrs.
Drums were beating in a haunted tune. War cries rang in the still silence. The skies were dark and the winds roared. The ground was decorated into an abstract painting of blood. It was morbidly beautiful a combination of vivid red against a dark background, but Lirin didn't saw any of the colors. All she saw was blue. All she saw were blue sky, blue seas and barely distinguishable horizon. She couldn't hear any sound, but that of a rasped breathing.
This was one of the many kinds of her abyss.
Blue fire, seething hot and blindingly bright, engulfed her as she took a step and another, over the water and rippling outwards. The fire licked her skin in languid strokes and she let it eat her like a delicacy. The heat made her numb and the blue turned her raging heart to deathly calm. The various shades and tints of blue were bringing her closer to the darkening horizon with each step. She didn't know or realize as the sky turned dark she was the only beacon of light. A flickering fire of blue walking over the ocean.
"Lirin." The blood on her hands was gray in her color blindness, because all that she saw was blue. "Lirin!"
She felt arms wrapped around her body and a face buried on her shoulder. "Come back Lirin!"
She blinked away the gray and immense blue. Everything shifted to the dark underground colors. Her eyes took the darkness and she looked to the one hugging her. Dirty hair, tangled and dark, welcomed her view. The stench of blood assaulted her nose and to her relief, it her stomach didn't protest. "Mama."
"Lirin." Celen tightened her hold around her daughter's waist. Lirin automatically hugged her back, looking down to her blood tainted hand. It was stark dark red against her sun-kissed skin. The patterns were telling her stories and figures. Beautiful, morbidly so. "Welcome back."
"I'm back, Mama. I'm back." Her voice was quivering with emotion. "I'm fine. You can let go now."
Celen reluctantly let her go, her eyes streaming with tears and shining with grief. Lirin understood the ever present worry in them too. Lirin was always the odd one. Even amongst the dwarves she was a wavering sea. She stepped back and plastered a brave smile to her lips. Her mind was in slow motion connecting and forming different thoughts. She didn't shed any tears this time around. She knew her colors now, somehow.
Somehow.
"What are you planning?" Ah, and Celen always knew better. Lirin's smile turned cryptic as she held her mother's hands. Celen mirrored the smile, not knowing yet trusting her. "Be sure you do not do anything you regret."
"I'll regret it. Someday." She stepped back and gave a parting nod. With a swish of her skirts she walked out the room. "Lor! Lyra!"
The two fell in step on each of her side, a habit they've done a thousand times before. At the moment each step echoed, her resolve strengthened. A haze of purple seeped through her sight. Know your colors, a voice whispered. Lirin remembered the red she saw before the blue and the clear light even before that. Her back straight and her face set, she walked to her destination with no second thoughts.
"Where are we going?" Lyra's voice reached her in a whisper.
"I need your help." A confident smirk graced her features. There was no turning back. The grief was too soon and it was because of their plain stupidity and carelessness. Again, others would digress. She had tried to evade from fighting for fear of a consequence she could not face. Her instability was a constant threat, but time seemed to be drawing it out. The purple shifted to a sky blue hue. Her destination was getting closer, yet the smell of blood and the hanging grief was never weaker. The tragedy of this time was dealt with fewer tears, the dwarves now hardened with experience. It was the view of burning trees and incinerated cities the worst tragedy to date. The parted ones were honored, while the ones left behind always moved on.
Lirin's ire was palpitating. She lost. That much was certain. Again she had let her pride and fear hold her back before. Now it was for the better.
It was a lesson harshly taught and would not be easily forgotten.
"Halt!" She ignored it and moved forward. "Halt!"
She slammed the doors open, always one for dramatic entrances.
-x-
It was a trap and they fell to it too easily. The scent of agony was too thick and too early to return. It choked the dwarves like a deathly poison, like smoke of dragon fire. The trap and their fall resulted to anger and bitterness. Thorin sat by his father's right, his aura dark and his face grim. Who wouldn't be when they were tricked? Led into slaughter one way or another? What was more maddening was when the culprit was Orcs.
All of them thought it was a raid. A rather large raid composed of a hundred Warg scouts that strayed too close to Dunland. Instantly, Thrain mustered the army to meet the enemy halfway giving an unspoken order that they finish the task through the night. Thorin and Frerin joined the force, even leading troops of their own. They took with them as many shoulders as they could, wanting the job done as soon as possible. The quicker they finish the fewer casualties. It was the statement that drove them out the mountain and into the battlefield.
A grave mistake.
They marched home in victory, only to see their gates opened and corpses pillaged at the doorstep. He remembered rushing to the doors and still hearing the sounds of battle. Every turn he saw either a wounded or dead dwarf. Men, women and children alike fought for their lives that day. Their recovering numbers suffered a fatal blow. He couldn't remember what he felt then other than anger and guilt. It was a mistake that he knew, as clear as day, they were to blame.
Now he sat there mulling the incident and hating his incapability of thinking such tragedies in short time. He could feel his father's anger coming in waves and Thorin being a brooding lad, tried to absorb it. Better him than his father. The generals and councilors were talking in hurried words, wanting to appease and placate the royals to be given time for their own grievances. He was sure each one of them was guilty of such calamity to happen and was beating himself to pulp internally.
"Enough!" Thorin looked up to see Frerin slamming his fists on the table. The younger one sat across him and unlike them, he was openly furious. "We are going round and round in circles! This is pointless!"
"Frerin." His voice was calm with a hint of exhaustion. Frerin was impulsive, his emotions ruling him. Everyone knew of this. Everyone knew of the temper of the Durin's line.
"Do not 'Frerin' me brother." He growled back to the older. His eyes, much darker than Thorin's, spat fire as he stood up to enforce his words. The younger stared down to the older and the latter just looked up calmly, readily. "You know I am right! Nothing is happening as we sit here babbling of things we can never change!"
Thrain was silent in the whole exchange, listening closely.
Thorin's frown met Frerin's sneer. If anyone would ask the witnesses what they saw, they would say that it was a battle of fire. Calm and deathly blue against blazing and devouring red. Everyone waited for someone to blow up between them, and unconsciously they want to see what the heirs are truly capable of. The dwarves were always cruel and insensitive in such matters, always so objective.
"We are here to analyze 'the circle' and find a way out without having to encounter it again." Thorin was cold and everyone saw the strategist that he is. A remarkable heir of Durin and the inwardly applauded his level mind.
"Yes. We did." Frerin snarled at his brother, his gears running in a hyper. Each of them had a flaw so noticeable, Frerin's impulse against Thorin's bitterness. Both of these were in forefront as they clashed. "But in this walled circle, you seek a door! There is none!"
"Then what do you propose?" Thorin's growl was barely noticeable. It was so low it passed as a whisper.
Frerin had a smirk of victory on his face, his eyes triumphant as he stood straighter. "We push through the wall."
Thorin's immediate shake of head darkened Frerin's expression. "Metaphors will do nothing even if your words are plausible."
Any sign of victory was wiped off from his face just to be replaced by anger once again. "Well I at least thought of something!"
"And it was a good idea."
"No need to patronize me Thorin." Frerin scoffed with a glare, amusement underneath.
"Halt!" The doors slammed open and everyone turned. "Your Highness! They—"
Thrain just gave a nod of dismissal. The guards hesitantly stepped back and closed the doors. Silence. Thorin heard many things at once, Frerin's gasp and Thrain's quiet chuckle among them. His hitch of breath echoed and racked his body. The smell of Orc blood came stronger and Thorin didn't even flinch.
"Prince Thrain." Lirin and her siblings stood before them, all bloodied and war-weary. Lor pinpointed Thorin and gave a nod. Reasonably, the Prince returned the gesture. They've known each other for working together in the forge. Thorin's gaze moved to Lirin, raking her from head to toe. He was astounded. Orc blood decorated her in a morbid beauty and it was alluring. Her sky colored dress was stained by both dirt and blood. She looked like a warrior out of a painting. He spotted a limp on her left leg when she curtsied. When he looked into her eyes, he was thrown between a raging storm and crippling furnace at the same time. "I am here to admit my defeat."
Defeat? He turned to his father with confusion clearly written in his eyes, his face though was still calm and distant. Why was it that every time this lass makes an appearance he would be at loss of what was happening? Why was it that Lirin always made him confused and surprised? Of course, there were things that he knew through hearsays. One among them was that fight a year ago, where Lirin won using nothing but wooden swords. He never saw the damage done but it was said that the poor dwarf would suffer a crooked nose forever.
When it looked like Thrain had no plan to speak, he turned back to Lirin who was unabashedly looking at his father with a leveled and determined stare.
"You mean you are to join the army then?!" Vanan spoke with a wide smile. It made Thorin wonder if she was really that good for his father's right hand to seek her out. He barely turned to acknowledge him but he gave an ear and heard everything. He was still looking at Lirin, searing his gaze and mentally willing her to meet his eyes. All he wished was for a little acknowledgement, maybe even a smile or a nod like Lor did.
"Thrain, son of Thror, Prince and High General," Lirin took a step forward, her limp so noticeable as well as her tremble. Defiance was clear in her eyes, so dark that it was almost black. Bruises littered on her skin, a morbid painting of blue and purples. A long cut, bleeding, was harshly placed on her forearm. Another marred her face from the tip of her brow to the top of her ear. It made an illusion of blood red tears flowing on her face. Even her lips were split and bleeding with a fury. With all the hell she went through, she still looked like a fierce Valkyrie. She looked like one of Mahal's blessed. "I lay my life under your orders and yours alone. I will fight your battles and win them too. You said a year ago that I am abandoning responsibility for kingdom, so here I pledge to thee."
"I accept your pledge as general and prince." Thrain replied with a reverent tone. Thorin heard the respect and was astounded of how so immediately his father revered the lass. Thrain's eyes were trained constant and unwavering to Lirin's while the lass looked on. He could see her light tremble and he wondered it was of fear or of pain.
"One condition." Thorin couldn't help the raising of his brows.
He also couldn't help his following words or the bite of his tone. "You should have laid your condition before you pledged to my father lass."
"I will command a unit of my own. I will recruit anyone who is willing as long as they aren't enlisted to the army. I will train them myself unless some of your very own officials are willing to help me." She continued without giving a sign that she heard his words. "As for the purpose of this unit, it would prevent this tragedy from happening again."
"A siege unit?" A nameless general quipped in surprise, a mocking laugh followed his words. "Your false bravado can only last long little lass. You would need not only a unit but an army at itself! And by Aule, you are but a child. Whatever do you know of commanding a unit, as well as teaching one? It would take well experienced soldiers for such feat."
"And it will take a child to have the courage to at least think or at least act to prevent such tragedy from repeating." Lirin bit back with a false smile, it was too sweet that it was venomous. "It seemed that you were getting nowhere before I came in."
"We've endured your impossibilities lass!" The room erupted in to a roar of mockery and anger. Lor and Lyra stepped forward in support to their sister. He saw Lirin shrunk back, her eyes widening for a split second in fear. Lor braced an arm around his sister while Lyra moved even closer. The roaring went on but to Thorin every little detail to these siblings was feeding his curiosity.
"Enough." Frerin was growling once again. "Silence!"
Thrain gave his son a quirk of his lips in thanks when the ruckus silenced. Lor was now shielding his sisters glaring at everyone with a contained fury. Lirin and Lyra were clinging on him, their expressions worlds apart. Lyra was furious while Lirin's face was clearly blank, borderline apathetic. Frerin was fuming as he sent everyone, even Thorin, a dark glare. A few moments of silence passed before Lor stepped away enough for Lirin to step away from his arms until she was standing like before. It took a few more moments before her stance retained its former determination and now added with a certain darkness Thorin couldn't pinpoint. Her eyes were cold as a winter storm that the shift of mood left many speechless.
"Do not fret little one." Thrain's gentle tone warmed the coldness and it made a small smile fleet her lips. Thrain's authority was left unchallenged, except by the lass who was decades younger than him. Age separated them yet their eyes held the same need for action and somehow Thorin understood Thrain's inner workings. "I accept your pledge and your condition."
He watched as she sighed in relief, her eyes twinkling as if the fear she felt before never existed. He felt confused at his interest and surprised at his concern.
"I would help the lady with her plans!" Vanan volunteered. "If you would allow me to announce it?"
"Thank you general." She said softly, her voice quaking almost to tears. He wondered if it was from relief or because she lost something…or someone too. If so? Who? Thorin's heart hammered. Was it a cousin? An aunt? Or… He dare not think that way. She turned to Thrain with a sullen smile. "Consider your debt paid, m'prince."
She turned and dismissed herself without a glance back.
The ruckus resurrected when the footsteps faded. "I tell you Lord Thrain that it is a mistake! What possessed you to allow a child, a girl even, to have any sort of military power!? Commanding a unit of her own? By the beard, insanity I tell ye!"
"Be careful of your tongue Ganid, lest the lass hear ye and try to cut it off." Vanan chuckled darkly. Thorin was staring into nothing, eyes a storm of conflicts. It was his reaction to Ganid's mockery, the fury he felt was not only for the bias treatment and gender inequality, but for the insult to Lirin's person. Without even thinking, he glared with a coldness of the harshest winter to Ganid. It took him off without saying.
"You are dismissed." Was his father's only reply. The dwarves grumbled and murmured as they left, leaving the Durin's and Vanan behind in silence. It stretched on for moments and it was as if they were waiting for something to happen or at least for someone to break the silence. Some such as Thorin was immersed in their own thoughts, tumbling and mixing for some sort of coherence to the situation.
"Father? What did she meant of your debt?" Frerin asked. "Was it because of - ?"
"A life for a life." Thrain stood and swept a gaze to his companions. "I will check on Father and seek his plans and counsels. Vanan send my condolence to Celen."
Thorin's heart dropped to his stomach and he winced in pain. No.
"Daeren was a great friend to us. One not to forget."
"Aye." Vanan affirmed with a solemn nod, his features carved like stone in their sorrow. "I will make sure your message is received, my friend."
Then the brothers where left alone in their thoughts once more. Thorin's was of grief and despair because Daeren was indeed a great friend, one he respected among others. He remembered the elder's kind words and hearty laughter. He remembered his love for his family and for his craft. Daeren carried on, even when most of the dwarves whispered horrid thing behind his back because of his mixed heritage. They call him 'bastard's son' and of 'foul blood' like he was one of the Orcs. To the Durin Prince though, he only saw a courageous soldier, a great craftsman and a loving father.
"We should visit them." His neck almost snapped at how quick he turned to Frerin. The younger had a small smirk on his face, his emotions readable as the clear sky. Frerin stood and held out a hand. "Good idea, aye?"
"Indeed." Thorin followed suit a head taller than his brother and shook the offered hand. "Patronizing aside."
"Of course." The first smile, however grim, made its way to their lips as they stepped out the room. Beacons of hope.
-TBC-
Notes:
So… Sorry for the really late update. Finals is coming up and we have:
1. Flash Game, 2. Online Portfolio Website and, 3. An ethical dilemma MUSICAL (for a minor subject) that are due by the week after the next.
We have Frerin coming into the fold. Daeren is dead and in memoriam, Lirin requested to have a unit of her own. The unit is important for her character development and I do believe it could actually happen, her volunteering (demanding) and all.
And if you do not know yet, Lirin has a MINOR case of multi-personality disorder.
So any reaction, do review. ANY at all.
Another thing: Is Lirin becoming a Mary-Sue? [By the Valar I wish not.]
You have my utmost gratitude for reading this story. I'm Out.