Angst/tragedy ahead! Dx Be warned: *miscarriage and loss* and *short chapter*! This chapter also killed my feels! Enjoy :)
~:~ Loss ~:~
Thorin stomped through the mountain, trying his hardest to get his husband's wails of pain out of his head.
Seven moons ago, they had been ecstatic to have another impending addition to the family but now, after all that blood... Thorin slammed his fist against the rough wall, barely registering the throb that followed or the blood that seeped from the scrapes. They had been so sure, so sure. They had told everyone. Now, their spirit was broken and Thorin was angry at Mahal for taking his son too soon.
The babe had been a boy; he had watched Bilbo hold their little son minutes before the healers took him away to be prepared for burial. To see the god awful amount of pain in Bilbo's eyes - Thorin would do anything to take that away. His hobbit shouldn't have had to go through that.
Elrond - the elf had traveled from Rivendell two moons before the chaos happened - had told them that it was simply not the poor little soul's time. The elf had questioned Bilbo's age to the dwarf healer after the tragedy, whispering that the hobbit's reproductive system wasn't strong as it used to be.
With his head bowed in grief, Thorin understood he could not ask any more children of Bilbo. He couldn't put his husband through that again. Their family, their children, were enough.
Another painful roar left Thorin's broad chest as he slammed his fist into the wall again, this time slumping to the floor in a heap. He brought his shaking and bloodied hands to his face, covering the tear tracks on his cheeks as he cried.
What felt like an eternity away from his chambers, Thorin trudged into the common room and quietly closed the heavy door behind him. Oin and his healers were still set up in the spare room beside the master bedroom. Thorin offered them a weak smile as he passed, closing the door that connected the two rooms to give he and Bilbo privacy.
The room looked much different than the last time he saw it: the fire in the hearth had dimmed, the mounds of pillows had gone, and the bloodied sheets had been destroyed. He swallowed and stepped forward.
He saw Bilbo reach for him through the rays of the flickering firelight. Without a moment's hesitation, he went to his hobbit and gathered him in his arms and pressed light kisses in his hair. His heart cracked in half when he felt teardrops stain his tunic. "Bilbo," he rumbled softly.
A sob was his answer and his husband's smaller hands fisted in his clothes. He sniffed. "We lost our son."
His voice was so broken, and Thorin felt a lump form in his throat.
"I lost your heir," he cried, turning his head into Thorin's chest. "I'm so sorry."
Thorin growled. "Never say that, my love," he said firmly, grasping Bilbo's shoulders. "This was not your fault. I do not blame you. I blame-" His voice cut off suddenly and the emotions that plagued him before returning to his chambers filled him once more.
"I blame Mahal for taking our child when it was not his time. I blame my councilmen for expecting too much of you as Consort. And I blame myself for not realizing that you had new limits with this pregnancy." He bowed his head and heaved out a sigh. "I am sorry, my One. I should have paid you more attention. Sometimes I forget you're not as strong as a dwarf."
Bilbo offered him a teary smile. "'t's not your fault, Thorin," he sniffed. He sighed and held on tightly to his king. "Wh-what do we tell the kids in the morning?"
Thorin pressed another kiss into Bilbo's hair. "Let's not think about that now," he commanded gently. He maneuvered into their bed beside Bilbo and tried to continue to comfort him; he was fighting a battle of his own. Bilbo sensed it and kissed his lips softly. "Let it out."
The proud king let out a small and choked sob. He clung to Bilbo as he cried about everything that happened that day.
Yep, that killed me. Sorry :(