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*Pride
"Siv…" his large hand gripped her forearm way too tightly.
"No! Stay away from me!" She tried to pull away, to no avail.
"Listen to me!" He snapped.
She turned to him so aggressively that he pulled back no matter how his instincts seemed to scream at him to take her in his arms and never let go. Her flowery scent did little to abate the fear in his heart. "I have been listening to you all these years. You kept telling me that it was going to be okay. That everything in the end would be resolved. Here we are now then with every thread of our sanity getting blown in the wind."
"I cannot do it, I am sorry." His eyes tried to convey to her the bitterness in his heart, but her anger was blinding her.
"You are always sorry. Whenever you get back from your family, you are always sorry. What the hell are you doing to us Thorin!?" She yelled and pulled her arm free. Several braids came undone and her black long hair covered her furious face.
"I am trying to keep us from falling apart!" He retorted.
"You are destroying us!" She hurled back to him.
From the corner of his eye he saw Cael, her father. He was observing them from the shadows, holding his hammer loosely next to his thigh. Thorin had ordered everyone out of the forging stations when he came to find Siv, but he knew her father kept within hearing distance and he didn't blame the old man. "You don't understand how serious things are…" he tried more quietly, yearning to get through to her somehow.
"Oh, I understand alright. Its you who is failing to see how serious I am about all this." She pointed a threatening finger at him.
"I cannot do anything else right now. You have to be patient." He attempted to get closer to her, but she drew back.
"Of course, I am the one who must be patient even though I've been waiting for you to decide our fate for two years. Am I to still wait?" She asked and her eyes filled with tears.
"I cannot marry you now Siv…" He shook his head in despair while his words slashed through both their hearts.
She stood straight and proud. "So you said a few moments ago. You don't have to keep repeating it…"
"My reasons are serious and have nothing to do with how much I love you…" He tried.
She harked through those words and he paled. "Don't talk about love to me! I sacrificed everything for you. I love you so much I cannot breathe without you and I still have to abide by the decisions of your father who obviously doesn't find me a suitable bride for Durin's heir! Do you know how much you are hurting me?!"
He came close to her and cupped her cheek. His fingers curled under her ear, keeping her there. "I don't want to hurt you, I just don't have a choice!"
Her hand came up and grabbed his forearm firmly. "No you don't, because this decision will either hurt me or your family. Hurting your family was never a choice for you. So don't speak of love to me. If you loved me you would have sacrificed everything for me!" Her eyes were overflowing with tears.
He opened his mouth needing to tell her everything, needing to speak about his grandfather's sickness, but he couldn't divulge a secret that would tear Erebor apart.
She saw his hesitation and her eyes gleamed in anger. "You don't want to sacrifice anything, do you?"
He closed his eyes and tears ran down his cheeks. "I am sacrificing more than you think possible." He muttered.
"You are sacrificing our love to some unknown cause that you find me unworthy to learn!" She threw another knife at his heart.
"No, listen please..." He beseeched while his fingers tightened around her jawline possessively.
"If you loved me as much as you proclaim, then you would have shared everything with me, even your most intimate thoughts, but you don't. You are keeping silent. How can I trust that you will deliver in the future Thorin? How can I trust in your love then?" Her nails scratched his skin in desperation. This was her final call for him to deliver as she said, but he didn't.
He closed his eyes tight. "You can't, you are right..." he exhaled defeated. He couldn't tell her the reasons that were keeping him from marrying her and he would never be able to abandon his family in order to fulfil his own wishes. It was one thing to make her understand how much he loved her and how deeply this was hurting him and another to lead her on a lost game.
She inhaled sharply and her wet gaze moved quickly on his face trying to take in every detail as if this was the last time that she was going to see him. "I am leaving tonight..." she spoke under her breath. His words had extinguished the fire in her heart.
His eyes flew open and seared through hers. "No!" He tried to pull her in for a kiss, not ready to resign their love yet.
The slap came suddenly and on it's wake it left him with a sore cheek and a buzzing ear. He withdrew his grip on her face and looked at her, feeling more hurt than he had ever felt in his life. "Don't…" He whispered.
"Don't hit you again?" She thrust her proud chin at him and her eyes became cold and distant.
"Don't leave, please..." He muttered, feeling weak and defeated on all fronts.
"So I should stay here and attend to your emotional and physical needs, whilst you attend to the royal line as your father has commanded you to do?" She was now throwing spears at him, but he deserved them.
"Remain close to me…" He tried with a diminished voice and eyes that were burning hot.
She straightened and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Then her head turned above her shoulder. "My father was expecting your answer as much as I did. We discussed this extensively. If you said no this time, we decided to leave. We have a carriage already made and waiting for us."
He frowned. "You expected me to deny?" The confusion was now pouring out of him like a waterfall.
She smiled bitterly. "Yes."
Her answer made his heart clench painfully. He shook his head not knowing what to tell her.
She swallowed heavily and her eyes burned through him. "You chose for the last time Thorin, now it is my turn to choose. I cannot spent the rest of my life waiting for you to devote yourself to me instead of your family. I am sorry..."
"Siv, you have this so wrong..." He shook his head sadly, but he didn't dare approach her again. She seemed so decided upon leaving him. Or was it him that left her first?
She huffed. "And I suppose you can make me see it right?"
His lips twisted painfully.
She flicked her shoulders. "You can't. You have to guard the big secrets of the Longbeards. May they live long and rule wisely. Yada Yada…."
"Please…" he croaked.
"Am I hurting you?" She raised her brows and wiped her cheeks clean.
He pressed his lips and more tears run down his face.
"Good, because you are hurting me too. We are leaving tonight Thorin and you'd better not follow me. This between us, whatever it was, is over. I don't want to ever see you again..." She thrust her chin up and with one last look that was alternating between defiance and anguish she turned around and ran out of the weaponry.
He remained still listening to her heavy boots clanking further and further away from him. He was holding himself with the greatest of effort from running after her. He was trying to stop his eyes from tearing up again and again, his hands from being so cold and his heart from screaming in pain. He followed his father's wishes and upon doing so he cut out his heart and threw it in the fire, but what truly mattered was that he cut out her heart also and that would haunt him forever. As her footsteps faded away into the distance, he heard another pair of heavier ones approaching him.
He didn't turn his head to Cael and forced himself to speak the words. "I am sorry"
Cael offered him only heavy silence for what seemed like an eternity, provoking him to turn around. When he did Cael's eyes were not accusing, but void and cold. He lifted his hand and presented him with the heavy hammer that he used to shape the best swords in the Kingdom with. Thorin looked at him confused. "Take it..." the older Dwarf-Lord said quietly.
Thorin's thick brows frowned and he looked at the hammer.
"Take it son..." Cael sounded almost caring.
Thorin opened his hand and Cael dropped the massive tool there. Thorin's fingers closed securely around it and his azure gaze remained steady on Siv's father. "I taught you well and good all these years" -Cael smiled bitterly- "You are a master smith now. You can take over this den, like you will take over this Kingdom soon enough. You don't need me anymore."
Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but Cael raised his hand and stopped him. "You don't need either of us anymore. Let my daughter heal, lead your life as you see fit, and let me rest. Send my regards to Thrain and King Thror. Goodbye..." and with those words that echoed even more sharply, because of their quiet abandonment, Cael limped slowly away.
Thorin remained behind, feeling cold inside out, with the heavy hammer in his hand. His eyes followed the tired limp of the Master Blacksmith. He stood there numb for what felt like an eternity and a day, one breath away from running after Siv in order to demand his life back. Nevertheless his feet remained rooted firmly in the depths of Erebor, with the heaviness of Durin's line overloading his shoulders.
It took him a long time to unglue his eyes from the empty corridors, long after Cael's limp stopped echoing in the darkness. A longer time still to decide to move in any direction and he wasn't surprised when he found himself taking off his royal coat and leather vest before taking his seat in front of the anvil in order to shape the sword that Lord Cael left there unfinished. Several hours later found him sharpening the finished sword on a smooth whetstone, with his hair out of order and his face and forearms black from soot.
His wild eyes were lost into the sparks of the fire as he moved his hands back and forth for a long time trying to make the blade as sharp and smooth as possible. He didn't even hear the rest of the blacksmiths closing down their working stations as it was already late in the evening. When he finished and decided to head back up it was already late at night. He didn't attend dinner with his family, instead he returned to this rooms and closed the door heavily behind him. First he sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his blackened hands until the golden bells stroke the first call for the night. Then he stood in front of the mirror and gazed at his face long and hard before taking some scissors and cutting off his long beard braid. He took a bath, changed clothes and walked up to the top rampart were there two guards at the flanks of the royal balcony. He commanded them to leave and climbed up on the rock at the side. He sat there leaning his back at the rough surface, with one leg dangling from an impressive drop. He sat in silence for long, stargazing and listening to the waterfall at the side of the grand entrance with no intentions of seeking any human contact.
The lively warmth of the densely populated Kingdom behind him bore a rough contrast to the coldness that was now abundant in his heart. His arms felt stiff and raw from the abuse he gave them in front of the anvil and his body was cold from the snowy drafts that glided down the mountainside. He pulled his heavy coat around him, buried his chin inside the fur around the lapels and felt his missing beard braids strangely satisfying. He remained silent, calming down his rampant thoughts, waiting to hear the wheels of Siv's carriage rolling away from the mountain. It was way after the bells chimed the last call for the night that the calm voice of Dwalin made him reopen his heavy eyelids.
"Quite dangerous spot you found to take a nap." His friend looked at him with playful eyes.
He raised his head feeling his sore muscles complaining. "Didn't intend to fall asleep up here."
Dwalin frowned deeply. "What in the name of Mahal happened to your beard?"
Thorin rubbed his chin and smiled bitterly. "Its gone."
Dwalin frowned even deeper. "You cut off your warrior braids?"
Thorin nodded sadly.
"You are a Longbeard for the love of heaven. What were you thinking?" Dwalin flailed his arms frustrated.
Thorin released a soft exhalation of pain. "I am mourning..." his rich voice sounded husky.
Dwalin's eyes darkened. "What happened Thorin?"
Thorin gazed towards Dale and his lips curled down. "I send her away."
Dwalin's body deflated and he leaned against the wall. "How?" He whispered.
"I told her the truth. That we cannot marry." His voice was terrifyingly empty.
"You bloody idiot. You want me to go and bring her back? This is the most stupid thing you have done since I've known you and that means since forever!" Dwalin barked.
"I know." Thorin nodded quietly.
"Then why did you do it? You've loved her since we were teenagers. You've pledged your heart to her since then." Dwalin rejoined exasperated.
"There are things you don't know…" Thorin closed his eyes feeling tired.
"Do they have to do with with your father?" Dwalin pressed his lips angrily and tried to make Thorin look at him, but failed.
Thorin remained silent.
"What did he say to you that made you deny Siv's love?" Dwalin looked at him intensely, trying to understand what was going on.
"Trust me Dwalin, t I cannot tell you anything, but this had to happen. I had to do it." He rejoined flatly.
Dwalin pulled himself up at the nook on the rock and leaned back until their shoulders touched. Thorin curled in on himself and Dwalin felt it. "I don't know what to tell you that would make you feel better."
"You don't have to say anything." Thorin frowned at the horizon.
Dwalin caressed his beard and looked at the long road that led away from Erebor. "Did Thrain tell you to stop seeing her?" He tried again.
"I did the best I could for Erebor Dwalin…" Thorin whispered.
"Bullshit, just give me one word and I will go get her back! Just say it!" Dwalin grabbed his forearm and shook him.
"No, what happened was for the good of my people..." Thorin's voice was almost guttural.
"You are going to live to regret this and I don't want to be a witness to that!" Dwalin barked.
"You don't have to!" Thorin retorted heavily.
His friend's countenance broke. "I do, because you are my best friend and I will never abandon you. I think that what you did, for whatever noble reasons Thrain convinced you to do it, was wrong. You still have a chance to change things. Let's go to the stables and find the quickest horses. Forget ponies and rams. Big wild quick horses and go after her. She can't have gone far."
Thorin's eyes were pooling with tears. "No…" his voice flickered and almost got extinguished.
Dwalin looked at how broken his best friend was and cupped his forehead. "Thorin don't do this to yourself."
Thorin's gaze returned to him unwavering. "You don't understand, I don't have a choice."
"You do…" Dwalin tried.
"I don't…stop..." Thorin cringed and covered his face with his large hand.
Dwalin inhaled deeply and remained quiet.
It took Thorin several moments to speak. "Stay if you wish, but be silent please."
Dwalin leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Is this why you didn't attend dinner tonight?"
Thorin humphed behind his hand. "What...was Thrain worried?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Yes." Dwalin's lips curled down.
"I don't care..." Thorin removed his hand and his pained eyes regained their cold curtain as he looked towards Ravenhill, without knowing that one day centuries later he would leave his last breath there.
Dwalin remained silent for several moments before deciding to speak again. "Are you cold?"
"No, but if you are you can go back in." Thorin rejoined flatly.
"I will remain for as long as you want me." Dwalin frowned decisively and settled better next to him so they could share their body heat.
Thorin's broke into a bitter smile. "Thank you."
Balin cupped his mouth and his thoughtful stare lingered for long on Thorin's closed eyes. He remained a silent companion to him until they both decided to return inside the heat of Erebor to warm their bodies...even if nothing could warm Thorin's heart anymore...
Thorin groaned and Eilin hesitated only for a moment before cupping his cheeks firmly. She felt the roughness of his beard scratching her sensitive palms and shuddered. "Wake up Sir, please!" She tried once more to wake him up.
He had been thrashing in his sleep for a long time and she was afraid that he would end up with broken stitches again. Not wanting to explain to her mistress how she messed up on her watch again, she tried at first to wake him up from afar. Seeing that try was to no avail she approached and tried again closer. Then it was time for her hand to grab hold of his shoulder in order to shake him awake, but he didn't open his eyes. Now her hands were keeping his head steady and her voice came wavering out of her mouth as she spoke straight into the King's face. She intended to sound strong and decisive, commanding him to open his eyes, thinking that a man like him would be responsive only to an assertive voice. The roughness of his beard though upon her sweaty palms and the well remembered whiff of manliness caught her so off guard that she felt flustered and out of place within seconds of approaching him.
Her originally intended command, finally came out as a meek plea. "Wake up…please for the love of heaven..."
His good hand came up and clasped her wrist so tightly that she felt her bones crashing under his steely grip. She open her mouth intending to spit a curse, but stopped the last moment. Her other hand pulled away from his cheek and used his chest as a leverage in order to pull free, but he was holding her too firmly. A groan escaped her and she tried to use her voice again, which surprisingly worked this time. "WAKE UP!"
Standing there next to him she saw with full dread his eyelids opening up slowly and his azure eyes searing into hers.
She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. "Thank all the Gods of Middle Earth…"
His black eyebrows twitched in confusion and his eyes rolled down her nose and ended to her half open lips were they linger for several moments before he spoke. "What the hell are you doing on me?" He asked, but instead of an angry voice she heard a rich throaty whisper that vibrated through her spine.
Her knees decided to have a mind of their own and buckled under the weight, but he didn't allow her to fall on the floor. His hand was strong enough to keep her aloft until she found her footing again. "You were having nightmares and I was trying to wake you up. You were thrashing about and I feared you were going to break your stitches." She spoke hastily while trying to release her hand from his grip.
His eyes darted to his fingers which were wrapped around her bare forearm so tightly that her skin had turned white under the pressure. He released her with a frown. "Did I handle you inappropriately?" He asked.
She pulled away from him clumsily, feeling the redness of her cheeks extending down to her neck. She shook her head vigorously, hurrying to reassure him. "No, my Lord."
He turned his insistent stare away from her and rubbed his forehead. "Did my sister send you over again?"
"No, but my Lady has ordered me to sit close to your door in case you need anything at night." She lowered her head respectfully.
"So you never sleep." He pushed himself up from the bed slowly.
She made an attempt to help him, but drew back when she saw that he was managing pretty well himself. "Yes, my Lord...I mean... No, my Lord." -Eilin rolled her eyes and nibbled her bottom lip feeling frustrated at her inability to speak at that moment, while the redness on her cheeks and neck was slowly extending down to her bust- "I mean I sleep upright on my chair most of the times."
"It's really a pointless effort on your behalf. I rarely need anything." Thorin shook his head dismissively and rubbed his eyes.
"Today you needed help." Eilin looked up carefully.
He turned a heavily critical gaze above his shoulder and she froze. "What?"
She threw her eyes to the floor and her fingers tightened around each other nervously. "You were being riddled with nightmares, Sir."
He turned her his back and remained silent.
She looked apprehensively at his wide shoulders. "I've been having nightmares for years. I know how difficult they can be and I know how to discern someone who suffers from them."
"You are too forthcoming and you are assuming too much." His manner may have been brash, but his body posture looked defeated.
She felt her flush becoming even more prominent from embarrassment at his backlash. "I am sorry, my Lord."
"You shall not speak about tonight to anyone and above all my sister." His voice dropped so low that she quivered in apprehension.
"I will not, my Lord." She muttered.
Silence reigned for several moments before he spoke again. "Next time don't come too close to wake me up. Better do it from a distance." He threw her a warning glare above his shoulder.
Her head snapped up. "Next time?"
He raised his brow. "Will my sister change her mind and unglue you from my door?"
Eilin eyes darted around for a couple of moments. "I don't think so Sir..."
He interrupted her again. "I don't think so either, therefore next time you hear me struggling don't come close...understand?"
Eilin swallowed and averted her eyes. "As you command, Sir."
He pushed himself up slowly and grabbed one of the posts of his bed to help himself. "I don't want to have to explain to my sister how I happened to break your arm..." he whispered.
She found herself nodding. "I understand, my Lord."
After a long moment of silence were he shuffled tiredly until he caught the back of an easy chair, he looked up at her. "Considering that I am not keeping you anymore awake than you would have remained anyway, could you bring me up some milk?"
She looked up and felt her heart twitching happily at the prospect of being of some use to the King. She nodded eagerly and hurried to the door in order to fulfil his wishes. "Of course, my Lord I will only take a moment."
When the door closed, Thorin emptied himself on the easy chair. He closed his eyes and remained immovable, allowing the warmth of the fire to heat up his exhausted body. He didn't reopen his eyes even when his door opened and closed. He heard the maiden's light footsteps and a few moments later he caught a whiff of a flowery scent, just before she placed a tray on the table next to him. He didn't want to admit that even though this girl had become an unwilling witness to his constant nightmares, she was the least compromising to so so in Erebor.
Apparently in his sleep during these hazy trips in the past, he was more active than he had been counting on. There were few things he could do about all this, really. He could either stay awake forever in order to avoid them or sleep through them and hope that he wouldn't hurt himself or anyone else whilst he was at it.
He opened his eyes slightly as she was arranging the expensive porcelain cup with some napkins and some lembas bread she brought on her own accord. His eyes fell at her smooth forearm. As her sleeve was rolled up he caught sight of the angry red traces of his large fingers. His hands were so rough that he could have easily broken this delicate wrist if he had kept the pressure on. He was not safe to be around when he was sleeping and he didn't want anyone around him, but if someone had to be there then this maiden was a good modus vivendi. He didn't want to burden his sister with all this, neither his companions.
He drew in a deep inhalation and turned his eyes to the crackling wood of the fire. He cradled the cup and drank a couple of sips noticing that she had warmed up the milk for him when suddenly his ears picked up a soft singing that was sliding through the cracks of his closed doors. He silenced his breath in order to discern the words and it took him only a few moments before he recognised their familiarity.
"The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone,
When Durin woke and walked alone.
"He named the nameless hills and dells;
He drank from yet untasted wells;"
Thorin placed his cup down and frowned at the door. Someone was singing the song of Durin and that was enough to cause his stomach to tense in expectancy. "Did you hear anyone singing as you were coming up?" He asked Eilin who was out at the balcony tossing his heavy quilt with way more strength that he would have given her credit for.
She came in and looked at him. "No, but there was a big gathering at the grand entrance. They were playing flutes."
Thorin instantly knew who was singing down there. He had travelled with them almost for a whole year and he had been living with some of them ever since he was a child. He would have recognised these voices anywhere. "Bring me the walking stick that's laying under the bed."
She walked around the bed and saw a very elaborate, golden gilded cane half hidden under the bed. She took it and brought it to him. "My Lord." She bend the knee.
He pushed himself up with difficulty and placed way more weight on that accursed walking stick than he would have thought possible. Balin had obviously been right when he brought it up, but Thorin's conceit had stalled his logic. He took his first step with it and his heart broke at the heaviness of his limp. His right hand felt weak and remained wrapped around his stomach as he dreaded the pain it would induce if he tried to pull it away. He took a couple of more steps and reached his cupboard. He threw the doors open and pulled out a black leather vest. He managed to put one arm through when he felt someone picking it up. He looked above his shoulder. There she was again silently helping him wear it. He accepted her help quietly, telling his pride to back away for the sake of all of them for once.
"He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadow of his head."
Then he attempted to buckle up the heavy silver belt, but it was impossible to do so as he was using most of his strength to balance on Thror's cane. He closed his eyes intending to take off the bloody vest and walk to them wearing only his tunic, not caring about the coldness that was still covering the stone walls of this abandoned city.
"The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty Kings in Nargothrod
And Gondolin and now beyond"
It was that maiden's flowery scent that made him reopen his eyes as she stood in front of him with her hands respectfully crossed in front of her apron. "May I help you my King?"
He gave her a nod and then her small hands were on him, pulling his belt up.
"The western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's day."
As her small hands fastened the buckles of his heavy belt, her soft voice began humming along with the far away song. Thorin felt his chest tensing and his breath restricting while his eyes burned through her skull. When she reached the final clip, her fingers suddenly lost their certainty and her voice fell quiet. He saw her wrists slightly trembling, possibly from the weight of the belt. As the song echoed in the background his eyes focused on her shaking fingers struggling and he suddenly felt cornered for some unknown reason. His hand flew above hers needing to take back full control of this weird situation.
She inhaled sharply and drew back. Having most of his belt buckle securely done it was easy for him to fix the last clip and then he lifted his azure eyes to hers. She was looking at him almost mesmerised.
"Thank you." He said quietly.
She dropped a silent curtsy and opened the door for him. Gathering himself with great difficulty he limped to the door and shook his head slightly in order to get rid of that peculiar feeling of being out of touch with the world for a few moments. That is when the words of the song came clear to his ears once more.
"There beryl, pearl and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in horde."
It took him several moments to venture down to the King's Halls alone with only this maiden accompanying him. Finally the call of the song was too strong and he limped heavily down the corridors with his right arm holding his slaughtered stomach and lung from falling apart in the cold stony floor. It took him far more time to get to the great antechamber than he could have wished and by then his company had sang many songs only to repeat Durin's again as he was approaching. When he leaned his tired body at one of the tall columns, a ghostly smile appeared on his lips when he saw the gathering. Everyone was there. All of them. His eyes first went to Fili and he welled up inside.
"Unwearied then were Durin's folk;
Beneath the mountains music woke:
The harpers harped and minstrels sang
And at the gate the trumpets rang."
There they were then. His companions. The men that came with him in this perilous journey to help him reclaim their Kingdom. He hadn't seen them since they broke out of the strong barricaded debris of Erebor and fell into battle with bravery unmatched. He hadn't seen them as clearly as he was seeing them now since the pale Orc cut him in half. The last image he remembered bright like the sun was the valley of Erebor as the armies of Dwarves, Elves and Men were taking back their land. Just as the eagles were flying down from the ravine proud and free. There everything was finished for him. There greyness came that soon became painful darkness and melted into nothingness.
Tonight his usual broodiness got touched deeply by the warm voices of his companions and his shadowed face opened up to the first honest smile after his miraculous recovery.
"The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dum."
"But still the sunken stars appear in dark and windless Mirrormere; There lies his crown in water deep, til Durin wakes again from sleep." He sang as he walked out of the shadows. Everyone froze in almost ecstatic silence. Thorin took another step forth and then straightened his body hesitantly. "Good evening. I hope I am not intruding this beautiful gathering." His profound voice reverberated in the columns around them.
As if waking them up from deep sleep, slowly their faces opened up into hesitant smiles and then a laugh was heard here, then there, then a cry of happiness and then his name was heard from every mouth, as each and everyone was trying to establish that he was indeed there. Alive, and standing proud before them after the nightmarish days and nights of his close call with death. The first to bolt up and run to him was Fili and they clasped the back of each other's heads in a move of close possessiveness. Pressing their foreheads together tightly, Fili hissed through his tight jawline "Uncle I am so glad to see you walking alone…how...how do you feel?!"
Thorin closed his eyes and tightened his fingers on his nephew's nape. "Better, how are you my boy?"
"I am in pain from the loss of my brother...only that." The young Prince mumbled under his breath and his free hand tightened Thorin's shoulder.
"I know my son." Thorin squeezed his eyes tight.
Fili unglued himself from Thorin's tight grasp and fell in his arms. "The relief of seeing you standing here in front of me…you cannot understand how I feel. I thought you were going to die..."
Thorin's arms came around the young man and enfolded him. Nevertheless he didn't stop with a mere hug. Not with the boy he nurtured like a father for so many years. "I love you son," his rich whisper made it's way into Fili's heart and released the tears he'd been holding all these days were anxiety and fear were twisting his mind every single breathing moment. He held his nephew close to his heart, not caring that his wound was crying out in pain or that his legs were barely holding him up. He opened his eyes and looked above Fili's head at the solemn gathering who was not laughing or smiling anymore. Each face was serious and every pair of eyes was sparkling with unshed tears.
After several silent moments it was Balin who approached them slowly. His hand fell on Fili's shoulder and the young man raised his head. His eyes were red from the tears. "Come young fellow. Thorin is standing tall again. Gather yourself and let the rest of his men see him."
Fili pulled back, but didn't leave his uncle's side. With a wide smile he wiped his cheeks and stood proud next to the King.
Dwalin walked and stood behind Thorin with a knowing smile. Then slowly like a river being released from a ancient dam, they all gathered around him. Shaking his hand, embracing him, offering words of loving support. Making him know how much they worried about him and how happy they were to have him once more amongst them. Taking him in with a warmth that he remembered well and that he had missed greatly. This camaraderie had began years ago in the Blue Mountains and got chiselled by their shared hardships through the centuries. He saw them all as brothers. His need for isolation in order to lick his wounds withdrew and the Thorin they all knew returned in full glory to dominate their company, making it whole again. They pulled him in and he followed willingly, brought him a chair and took it relieved. They offered him a plate of food which he denied, but a cup of Oin's famous tea was happily accepted. They all sat around him, like magnetic dust gathering around a strong force field and the happiness of their disposition, extended on to him. When the original turmoil began calming down Thorin noticed the poignant looks that Balin was giving him.
"I am sorry about what happened yesterday Balin." he turned the tea cup in his large hands.
"It's me that should apologise. I shouldn't have brought you the damned walking stick" -Balin looked at aforementioned item that was resting on Thorin's calf- "even though it helped you in the end."
Thorin smiled regretfully. "It seems your wisdom is endless. I did need it."
"For now..." Balin smirked knowingly at him.
Thorin's smiled widened. "For now," he agreed.
Balin sighed and pressed his lips. "Forgive my attitude back there laddie, but I worry about you a lot."
"Forgive my anger for it was not justified." Thorin's eyes were honest upon him.
"All the great of heart sustain in silent suffering." Balin returned a steady gaze on him, that knew only too well what lay in Thorin's soul.
Thorin swallowed heavily and lowered his eyes feeling defeated. He didn't speak.
Balin's hand fell on his shoulder. "Something ails you deeply and its not your wound. Problem is you are not sharing it with anyone."
Thorin's eyes bore into his "Remember what Thrain told you about me before you lost him?"
A sad curtain covered Balin's demeanour. "Your father didn't want you to return to the Lonely Mountain. He was afraid you were going to perish for this place."
Thorin swallowed heavily and looked at his hands. "I overlooked the forewarning of my father and became as restless in old age as he and my grandfather became. I was under the same spell as them even though the ring of power never made it to my hands in order to overtake me. The gold sickness was there, dormant inside me, waiting patiently to take over. I thought this quest was my need to restore my people to the life they deserved, because I felt the poverty when we lived in the Dunlands only too deeply into my skin. The way I felt when I came face to face with this bloody treasure though shakes my previous beliefs to the core. When Gandalf found me and gave me map and key, the thought of returning to Erebor consumed me. My father's last words, passed on by you, meant nothing. I had to come back here and reclaim this Kingdom…"
"Which you did!" Balin smiled.
"At what cost?!" Thorin raised his voice.
Everyone stopped talking and turned to him.
"Every war has loses laddie..." Balin's lips turned down.
"The Arkenstone, this treasure but above all revenge…" -Thorin's jawline flexed- "became everything to me. I brought destruction to the people of Lake Town and when that was happening the only thing on my mind was the Arkenstone."
"All that is in the past now." Fili tried to draw him out of his heavy guilt trip.
"The death of your brother is not in the past son. Your mother crying herself to sleep is here in the present. The dead of Lake Town are not rotting yet because the cold of the mountains is more forgiving on them than I have been during this quest of mine" -Thorin continued and turned at Balin- "and have we not known the life of poverty me and you? All of us?" He looked around him.
They lowered their heads with a sad nod of understanding, but no one tried to speak over him.
"Didn't we have a good life in the Blue Mountains? What did more did I need? Reclaiming this Kingdom took over everything else that was honourable in me. If I had stayed back in Ered Luin Lake Town's ruins wouldn't smoke today with the smell of their dead. Dain's men wouldn't be dead. Kili would have still been alive. What if we didn't have this great treasure anymore. Was it worth the death of our kin? I've been wrong Balin and too blind to see it. Now the Gods cursed me to be alive and come face to face with the ruins I caused all around me."
"Or they granted you life, in order to help rebuild those ruins and create a prosperous life for us all! Like you have done for us back in the Blue Mountains when Thrain went missing. Like you have always done here in Erebor. You have always taken care of your people from a very young age. You are a born leader laddie. A leader I've always been proud to follow and any words of regret you might utter now in your painful state, won't change the fact that I have always seen hope in you. I still do. You conquered the gold sickness, you reclaimed our Kingdom and even though we lost many, in the end you've pulled through for us. One cannot make war without sacrifices and you've sacrificed more than anyone else. Don't be so hard on yourself," Balin's eyes welled as he uttered those words loud enough to be heard by all.
"He is damned right!" -Gloin thundered- "What is this guilt trip now?!"
"Balin is right! You did everything for us..." Dori added with a calm smile.
Thorin shook his head and pressed his lips. "But did I?" He whispered.
Balin tilted his head.
"Did I conquer the gold sickness old friend?" Thorin's words were low and meant only for Balin's ears.
Balin's brow darkened, but the young Ori didn't allow him the time to speak. "I was afraid of following you on this quest as I am no soldier, but a mere scholar. I did so in the hopes of documenting the quest of a legend" -his adoring eyes feasted on Thorin- "And the legend delivered a myth!"
"Here here!" -Nori raised his wine mug and stomped his iron boots on the floor causing a racket that others followed too, before he raised his hand and silence fell all around him- "I joined in order to spill some black blood and I'd lie if I didn't say that enjoyed every minute of it. No matter how hard our losses may have been I wouldn't have changed this quest for anything else!"
Thorin's pale lips cracked a smile.
"As for me, I just came to help my brother and because I knew that you lot were going to need medical treatment at some point, but this quest offered me a lot more than companions that I'd never change for anyone else in the world. It offered me hope. You Thorin, offered me hope." Oin joined in and wiped a tear that had run down his cheek.
Fili's hand fell on Thorin's shoulder youthful and firm. "I would have never chosen to be anywhere, but at your right side uncle!" He smiled proudly.
Thorin cupped his hand and squeezed it gratefully until Bombur's voice drew his attention.
"I wanted to offer a better home for my six children and a father to be proud off. I am glad that after this quest they have both a father and a King to be proud off!" Bombur raised his wine cup to Thorin who smiled sadly and lowered his eyes to the fire.
"I came because I couldn't let these two fools get killed" -Bofur flicked his shoulders and all the company laughed. Even Thorin chuckled- "But I met men whose quality and merits are immeasurable. Especially to a simple minded toy maker."
Thorin nodded thoughtfully.
"Nikuz*" Bifur yelled in Khuzdul and raised his mug.
Thorin looked at him and smiled. "Khiluz**" He rejoined and raised his own cup.
Bifur's mouth opened in a wide smile. "Khiluz!" He proposed happily.
Balin turned his playful face towards Bilbo who was looking around him mesmerised. Everyone's attention turned to him also. Even Thorin raised his eyes at the Hobbit. "How about you master Burglar?" The old advisor teased.
Bilbo gathered himself and cleared his throat. "I mean I didn't want to join, you all know that. You all saw me faint even at the probability of facing a fire breathing dragon!"
Thorin chuckled, feeling the acceptance of his comrades drawing him away from the consuming darkness of his nightmares and of his guilt.
"Yet, I did…" -Bilbo's head tilted sideways reflectively- "and in this trip by loosing my home and all my comforts I faced my fears, I learned how to make nature my home, but above all I learned the value of true friendship and what it means to let go of what is most important to you in order to help your friends. What it means to make sacrifices for others. What it feels like to offer your life to the service of others" -his eyes bore into Thorin's and he saw the dark curtains that always made him look composed pulling apart and the naked pain he saw behind them froze his blood for a moment yet he continued- "I also learned how to be a master burglar, now didn't I?" His smile was wide, but it felt forced.
Thankfully everyone around him laughed. Everyone apart from Thorin, whose azure eyes were searing into Bilbo's soul from across the fire. The black curtains were back in place, but Thorin's well formed mouth was not smiling under his black beard. It was solemn and a dark shadow lay on his brow.
"Instead of regretting what we did laddie, let's accept it and move forth. You are healing and soon enough you'll be able to take command of Erebor. Become King under the Mountain like your grandfather, not King in exile anymore. All great journeys have losses. Every war has sacrifices. When we joined, we did so in that knowledge. Your struggle with the gold sickness, didn't stop us and we regret nothing," Balin said with a kind smile of understanding.
Thorin retrieved his heavy stare from Bilbo and sighed deeply before looking at the fire once more. He tasted his tea and nodded slowly. "Time is needed to heal and begin to rebuild. Our lives and this Kingdom."
"But it will happen. It has already begun. All day long I've been sorting out the engineers and the craftsmen of Dain's army. We've got blacksmiths, masons, delvers and even water works engineers that have already began restoring the hot springs to their former glory. The masons are clearing up the gates so we can start rebuilding them."
"What about the dead?" Thorin asked.
"They are been gathered by volunteers. The burials must start soon. Shall they take place in the dungeons or in the forest burial grounds?" Balin asked.
Thorin's lips twitched. Was his first order going to to be about the dead? "All Dwarf Lords will be buried in the vaults. We have enough empty spaces if I remember correctly. The rest in the forest or ask Dain if they wish to be carried back to the Iron Hills."
"Very well." Balin agreed.
Thorin pressed his lips tightly and his cold stare narrowed down. "Tomorrow Kili shall be buried."
Fili's head sprang up. "Tomorrow?"
Thorin nodded.
"Your sister hasn't taken care of him yet..." Dwalin warned.
"Tomorrow afternoon." Thorin's voice rang solemnly between the tall columns.
"I will prepare everything and inform Dis." Balin nodded solemnly.
Dwalin exchanged a worried glanced with Fili and settled back.
After that command Thorin remained silent not in any real mood to get into any other conversation, but not wanting to leave either. It was enough for him to remain amongst them in silence. The soft murmur of his comrades vibrated in the air around him almost lulling him to sleep, upright as he was. Everyone was feeling comforted by Thorin's presence, because no one had forgotten how broken he had been almost a week ago in that very same floor. That nightmare seemed so far away now as soft shadows from the fire danced across Thorin's calm features. The edge of the bandage that was tightly wrapped around his torso was peeking from the collar of his tunic, which in combination with the walking stick was a bleak reminder of his weakness. Still he was there with them once more, a part of their company and everyone rejoiced in that. He remained quietly observant of the conversations around him, offering a thoughtful nod or a ghostly smile every now and again at a question from Fili or some smart comment from Nori and Bilbo. Denying ardently Bombur's offer for food and Oin's need to check on his wound. He only accepted Dori's polite offer for tea and it's warmth was doing wonders to his stomach and his dark disposition.
It was Balin's poignant stares across the room towards the columns that drew the first words out of Thorin's mouth one more time. He looked at the point of interest and raised his brow in recognition.
"Shall I send her away? You are in no need of her services right now." Balin looked back at him.
Thorin's gaze lingered absently at the maiden's hiding place. He saw her thin figure between the shadows. He frowned at his inability to remember and after a few moments he gave up on the try. "You remember her name?"
Balin pressed his lips. "Eilin."
"Eilin, the Firebeard…" Thorin's blue eyes mused at the shadows.
Balin took a sip of his root beer and nodded. "Firebeard indeed, even though she doesn't look it…"
Thorin's lips twisted musingly and he turned his eyes to the fire. "Bring her closer to the fire and give her something to eat."
Balin looked up from his cup and his brow rose to the top of his forehead. He remained silent willing Thorin to notice him.
"Don't look at me like that old man. I don't think she's had a break since coming here and everyone deserves a break once in a while." Thorin's lips curled up in a small smile and then he offered his friend a tired look.
Balin's serious countenance melted in a sweet smile and he nodded. "I'll bring her over laddie." Then he stood up and walked alone to the shadows.
Thorin lifted the cup to his lips and his attention was drawn to Fili who was engaged in a conversation with Gloin. Thorin felt the heaviness of his obligations already burdening his shoulders and his eyes never noticed the timid Eilin approaching the fire with the encouragement of Balin. He didn't see her eyes gazing at him with an intensity that was almost unnerving as the old Dwarf led her to the company of Bofur who waved at her immediately. Half his mind was already racing on the next day and the other half was buried in his nightmares of the past.
Soon enough though the joyfulness of the company drew him in again and he joined in their jokes and conversation willingly. Only when the darkness was slowly lifted from his heart once more did he notice -Eilin the Firebeard- looking at him restlessly from across the fire. Bofur was leaning his shoulder onto hers and was laughing with Bifur at an apparent joke trying to draw her in, but her eyes were concentrated solemnly on the King and she made no attempts to withdraw them when he noticed her.
His dark brows twitched uncertain if they wanted to offer her a scornful frown or remain wrinkled with mild interest as to her insistence. His gaze must have been so imperative because she finally looked away and smiled at Bofur who offered her a cup of ale. When half of his company had fallen asleep around the campfire, secure in the knowledge that they had each other's backs, he remembered the times they've been sleeping like that in the wilderness.
He denied to be escorted back to his rooms by Dwalin. He insisted that he wanted to sleep amongst them. Eilin was the first on her feet and she rushed to create a bed for him with some straw and sheets she brought from his rooms. He lay there feeling a sense of calm covering him over like a balm. Only then did he feel his wound pained once again, but he didn't mind. His restlessness of all the previous evenings got blown away and when he closed his eyes there was only a restful dreamless sleep waiting for him.
As for the young maiden who found herself entangled way too deep into Erebor, she decided to lay close to Bofur whom she found the most pleasant company of all. With her back turned to the fire she kept her eyes at the formally majestic entrance, which was now crumbled and destroyed. The sound of the waterfall next to the gate lulled her to sleep soon enough and the night rolled on for all the uneven company in front of the feet of their mighty forefathers. Toy makers and soldiers, musicians and carvers, masons and delvers, Hobbits and medicine men. Kings and paupers all sleeping together under the bright moonlight that broke through the insistent clouds in order to shine down on all of them equally.
A/N:
* pride
** family
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