Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson and Company.
My Sister's Keeper
Chapter 10
Thorin found Fili sitting up in bed coughing until he nearly choked. The boy's face was red and tears streamed down his cheeks. He tried to call out for his uncle, but he didn't have the breath for the words. Thorin immediately lifted the struggling child into his arms and winced at the warmth that radiated off of Fili's body. He had a fever. "Let's get you some cool water," Thorin soothed him. Fili's fists clung to his uncle's sleep shirt; he felt miserable.
Thorin carried his nephew into the kitchen, lit a lantern, and held Fili against him with one arm while he poured a glass of water with the other. "Drink," he commanded, holding the glass to the child's lips between coughs.
Fili sipped it carefully and it seemed to soothe his scratchy throat. "I don't feel good, Uncle," he moaned, burrowing against Thorin weakly.
"I know," his uncle murmured, wondering how his sister had slept through her son's coughing fit.
"My tummy hurts," Fili choked out just before he pulled away from Thorin and vomited all over himself and the floor. He began to sob quietly. "I'm sorry," he managed before throwing up once again.
"It's okay, Fili," Thorin soothed, brushing the blonde hair back from the five-year-old's face.
"Is my poor boy sick?" Dis asked from the doorway, her long brown hair hanging unbraided around her face.
The lantern light made the room dim, but Thorin could tell that Fili's eyes were glassy with fever. "Dis, why don't you let me care for Fili? We don't need you getting sick yourself."
"I'm already sick," she sighed. "I've been vomiting most of the night." She lifted a shaky hand to brush the hair back from her face.
"Why didn't you call me?" Thorin nearly roared, causing Fili to start in alarm. The dwarf king regretted his tone instantly. "It's okay," he murmured gently into the boy's ear. "Everything is okay; I'm just going to take you back to bed and find a bucket in case you feel sick again."
Then he turned to his sister. "Dis, go get in bed," Thorin ordered softly. "I will see to both of you."
"But Fili needs me," she protested weakly, the sudden paleness of her face in the scant light alarming her brother.
He moved forward and took her arm as she swayed on her feet. "To bed, sister," he said, steering her down the hallway. "At first light I'm sending for Oin."
"I'll be fine," she insisted, "but he can check Fili."
"He will check both of you," Thorin stated quietly, yet firmly. He stopped at her doorway. "Go get in bed. I'm going to tuck Fili in and then I'm coming back to check on you." He knew she felt badly when she didn't argue; instead she shuffled across the room and crawled slowly between the rumpled covers.
Thorin carried Fili to his room and shucked him out of his dirty nightclothes before placing him carefully on the bed. He found a clean nightshirt for the boy and helped him dress before tucking him carefully under the covers. Then he found a bucket and placed it beside the bed. Fili curled up in a shivering ball beneath the blankets.
"Try to get some rest, lad. I'm going to go get your mother a bucket and make sure she's warm enough, and then I'll be back to check on you," Thorin explained.
"Is Mother going to be okay?" Fili asked worriedly just as another coughing fit struck him.
Thorin leaned over the brush a kiss against the boy's forehead as the coughing subsided. "I will take good care of her, Fili; I promise you."
The little boy nodded sleepily and yawned, his blue eyes drifting closed in slumber.
Thorin procured another bucked and returned to his sister's room, placing it beside her bed. She just moaned and rolled over, emptying the contents of her stomach into it immediately.
Her brother frowned. "Have you been able to keep anything down?"
"No," she whimpered as she spat into the bucket.
Perspiration beaded on her forehead and upper lip. Her hair hung in sweaty tangles around her face. Thorin found a clean nightgown for her and helped her change. She was too sick to worry about modesty, and he kept his gaze trained on the wall behind them. Then he braided her hair in one single plait down her back. After cleaning up Fili's vomit from the floor in the kitchen, he fetched a glass of water for her. She rinsed her mouth out to rid it of the taste of vomit and then spit into the bucket once again before sagging back against the pillows.
"I can't think of when I've felt this bad," she sighed tiredly. "My poor Fili, he must feel awful."
"He was drifting off to sleep when I left him, "Thorin told her.
Dis just nodded, her own eyes slipping closed. Thorin tucked her under the blankets and tiptoed across the hall to check on his nephew. Fili was sleeping, but was breathing through his mouth. Thorin could tell that the child had developed a stuffy nose.
A sudden coughing spell jerked the boy from his sleep and he pushed himself up on one elbow as he finally began retching from the constant tickle in his throat. Thorin grabbed the bucket and held it beneath Fili's mouth as the boy vomited once again. Tears slid down his fever-red cheeks as his little hands grasped the edges of the bucket. When he finished, Thorin retrieved the soiled nightshirt from where he'd tossed it in the floor earlier and used it to wipe the boy's mouth.
"I'm sick, Uncle," Fili whimpered. "I don't feel good."
"I know, Fili," Thorin sympathized as he plaited the child's hair back in a braid to keep it out of his face. "It will pass in a few days, and you will be fine. Let me go get a cool rag and we'll wipe your face." He settled the boy back against the pillows and hurried away, soon returning with a damp cloth which he folded and placed on Fili's forehead. The boy gave a sigh of relief and rolled onto his back, staying perfectly still.
Thorin sat beside him and held Fili's small hand in his own larger one. He rubbed his thumb in soothing circles over Fili's palm and frowned when the boy whimpered.
"Uncle, my throat hurts and my ears hurt."
Thorin reached out with his free hand to stroke the child's cheek. "I'll send for Oin in the morning and he will soon have you feeling better," he promised.
Fili didn't respond. He was already drifting off to sleep. Thorin took the opportunity to slip out of the room and check on his sister. He longed to collapse on his own bed in exhaustion, but that was a luxury he could not allow himself right now.
Dis was sleeping on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her face was flushed with fever and Thorin could tell by the contents in the bucket that she had thrown up again. She seemed to be resting quietly now, and he tiptoed into the room to retrieve the bucket so he could empty its contents.
By the time he returned it to his sister's bed, he could hear Fili's cries from across the hall and he hurried to his nephew. The boy was coughing softly with an alarming rattle in his chest and rubbing his right ear.
"Fili, I thought you were sleeping," Thorin murmured as me moved to sit beside his nephew on the bed.
"I feel too bad to sleep," the child groaned, rubbing at his eyes.
Thorin leaned back against the headboard of the bed and tugged the child into his lap. Fili's hands gripped his uncle's nightshirt as he snuggled close.
"You're warm," he sighed against his uncle's shirt, "and I'm so cold." A shiver ran through his small body.
Thorin dropped a kiss on the boy's head before he tugged a blanket over him. "Try to get some sleep, Fili. It will help you feel better."
The boy grunted, but closed his eyes and buried his face in his uncle's chest. Thorin shifted his nephew so that he could rub his back, and soon Fili was sleeping deeply.
Thorin must have dozed off, but was awakened by deep coughing coming from his sister's room. Easing out from under Fili, Thorin covered the boy with blankets and hurried across the hall to Dis. He found her clinging desperately to the bedpost. "Sister, what are you doing?" he nearly bellowed as he hurried to take her arm.
"I have to use the necessary," she panted weakly, her face pale and her skin clammy beneath Thorin's touch.
"Are you still vomiting?" Thorin asked as he helped her take one slow step at a time across the room.
"Yes," she almost moaned. "Everything I drink comes back up."
"Once you are back in bed I'm going for Oin," Thorin told her.
"Let the man sleep. I'll be okay until morning," she protested.
"You're so weak you can barely stand up on your own!" her brother argued. "This isn't good for the baby, Dis. You're dehydrated." Her due date was a little less than a month away now. If she lost this child and had to deliver it knowing it was not living, he wasn't sure she would ever recover.
"I'll be fine," she said, even as she swayed on her feet.
Once she completed her business, Thorin scooped her into his arms and carried her back to bed. She did not protest. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised her, "and I'll check on Fili before I go."
Dis nodded and curled exhausted under her covers.
Thorin found Fili still sleeping soundly, so he shivered into his coat and hurried outside. The sooner Oin took a look at his sister, the better. He pounded on the door of Oin's small home relentlessly until the dwarf shuffled to the door clad only in his nightclothes.
"What is it?" he asked the dwarf king sleepily. "Is it Dis?"
"She and Fili are sick," Thorin ground out worriedly. "I think she' dehydrated. She's very weak and unsteady on her feet."
Thorin watched as concern etched itself into the face of the healer.
"Go home to her. I'll be there as soon as I gather my things," Oin promised.
Thorin called out his thanks and hurried back to his sister's small home. He could hear Fili coughing as he opened the door. Quickly shucking his coat and tossing it over a kitchen chair, Thorin hurried into the boy's bedroom.
Fili lifted his arms toward his uncle pleadingly and Thorin couldn't resist the miserable look on the five-year-old's face. He scooped him up against his chest and then hurried to let Oin in the door when the healer began knocking insistently.
"I'll check Dis over first," Oin announced, but he dug in his bag and produced a small packet. "Brew this. It will help with the fever and nausea for the boy."
"Thank you, Oin," Thorin murmured, glad for something to do to keep himself occupied while the healer examined his sister.
Keeping Fili against him, he put water on to heat and emptied the paper packet into a mug. His nephew whimpered in his sleep and Thorin began to hum softly, a haunting tune that spoke of their home back in Erebor. Fili stilled against him, his sigh muffled in Thorin's shoulder.
When the water was hot, Thorin poured it carefully into the mug and stirred until the herbs were mixed in with the water. Then he settled into a chair at the table and arranged Fili carefully on his lap, nudging the boy awake. "You need to drink this, lad," he told Fili gently. "It will help you feel better."
The child yawned sleepily and took an experimental sip, his face scrunching up in horror. "Ew, it's nasty!" He pushed Thorin's hand holding the cup away from him clumsily.
"You must drink it, Fili, if you want to feel better," Thorin said sternly.
His no-nonsense tone told Fili that Uncle Thorin meant business. He dutifully drank the whole mug swallow by swallow before curling up against his uncle and falling immediately back to sleep.
"Thorin," Oin called softly as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, "may we talk in private?"
The dwarf king felt his stomach lurch. He knew the healer must have bad news. He prayed that the babe still had a heartbeat. "Let me put Fili in his bed and I will return," he promised.
The child was a warm and welcome weight in Thorin's arms. He pressed a tender kiss to Fili's forehead before tucking him beneath the blankets. His stomach rolled once again at the thought of what Oin was going to tell him. He didn't want to return to the kitchen, but he knew he must. He had to take care of his sister. Exhaustion blanketed him, but he pushed it aside and trudged down the hall to speak with the healer. "What news have you, Oin?" he sighed, sinking down in a chair at the table.
"I am concerned for Dis, Thorin. You are right; she is dehydrated. I tried giving her some herbs, but everything just came right back up. I do not like how high her fever has risen. It's not good for the baby."
"Will she miscarry?" Thorin asked reluctantly, his hands clenched together in his lap.
"I cannot say," Oin reported sadly. "She shouldn't be left alone. You were right to come and get me when you did."
"I should have come sooner," Thorin murmured. "I should have seen her need."
Oin shook his head. "Do not blame yourself. Anyone would have waited and many would have waited much longer than you did to fetch me. You did nothing wrong, Thorin."
"I have failed my sister, Oin. It is my duty to care for her."
"And you are," the healer protested firmly yet kindly. "You have been by her side and young Fili's as well. They have wanted for nothing because of you."
"They are missing the one person they cherished the most because of me," Thorin ground out, surging to his feet and knocking his chair over backwards.
Oin sighed. "Thorin, you mustn't think that way."
"Why not? It's the truth," the dwarf king snarled.
The sound of retching came from the bedroom and Thorin hurried to his sister's side wishing all the while that he could take her away pain and bear it himself.
To Be Continued…