Chapter 14: Faniare

(Written by me, AchievingNirvana.)

I was awakened by the faint sound of screaming and yelling. There was a high-pitched squeal, accompanied by deeper voices. I sat up. Kili was sitting next to me. His eyes were bloodshot.

"Where did everyone go?" he asked. He listened quietly to the screaming and jumped up.
"My brother's there!" he declared, tears forming in his eyes. He helped me to my feet, and I grabbed my weapons. I rubbed my eyes wearily.

"Kili, calm down. He's your brother."
"Exactly!"

"Why are you two so over-protective of each other?"

"He's all I have, Faniare! Well, besides you, now. He's all I've had since I was little. Someone to play with, someone to fight with, to learn with, to grow with, and the like. We've been inseperable since birth...or mine, at least." He put his arm around me and gave me a kiss.

"Now let's go."

He darted out of the cave with great agility. I followed behind, the wind whipping my dark hair in my face. We approached the forest-like side of the cliff, where a pack of the wolf-creatures (Called Wargs, as I discovered later) were huddled in a circle. I heard a familiar voice screaming.
"LET GO OF ME!"

It was Beryll.

As much as I disliked her, I didn't want her to get hurt- or worse. We sped to the scene, where the rest of the company was fighting off the Wargs. The largest one had Beryll in its mouth. Nessime was shooting at it. It shook off her arrows with ease and swiped at Thorin, who ducked in time. It rampaged over to Fili and smashed him to the ground with its giant head. It munched on Beryll a bit more. I aimed a throwing knife and tossed it skillfully straight between the beast's eyes. The dwarves turned around.

"Fili!" screamed Kili in horror. He ran over to his wounded brother.

I picked up the throwing knife as the beast fell to the ground, whining in pain. I suddenly felt guilty, but ran over with Nessime to pry Beryll from the beast's mouth.
"Please be alive..." muttered Nessime, pulling a blood-covered, beaten Beryll onto the ground. She put her ear to the hobbit's chest.

"Well?" asked Bilbo, coming over. He bowed slightly when he saw me.

Nessime looked up solemnly. "Come here." She asked him to repeat what she had just done. Baggins put his small ear to Beryll's chest.

"She's not breathing." He looked upset.
"Beryll?" He shook her. No response. Nessime checked every possible sign of life, but all efforts proved futile.

Beryll Merridew, a simple friend, protector and fighter, was dead.

Thorin walked over, his boots sticking in a muddy spot on the grassy rock.
"I'm sorry," he said, though the words did not seem directed at anybody in specific. I felt hot tears form in my eyes. They began to spill down my face.

"If only we could bury her at the Shire," wept Bilbo quietly, "She would be happy there."
"Here is fine," said Dori.

"It will have to be," agreed Thorin. "Carrying around a body will attract every kind of enemy." He kicked the dead Warg's nose.

The burial was over within an hour, and it soon became nighttime. We all returned quietly to the cave, agreeing that we would begin to move tomorrow- we couldn't stay much longer before the orcs found us, Thorin reasoned.

Kili helped Fili against the wall of the cave. They sat together, speaking softly. Fili had a gash on his head that would probably scar. I waited for Kili to come over, but he did not. Trying to be understanding, I sat with my side to the cave wall. Sleep did not come easily. I heard Nessime speaking to someone.

"I miss her," she said simply. I thought of Beryll- her small, pretty but bloodied face in the mouth of the Warg. I made a sincere promise to myself to kill every Warg I could, no matter what it took.

I awoke in the early morning, just as the sun had started to rise. I stepped over a few dwarves and glanced back. Kili was sleeping with a protective arm over his injured brother. I smiled and went outside.

I stared off the edge of the cliff, hands folded behind my back. I thought gravely of Beryll and how her short hobbit-life had come to a tragic, painful end. Why her? Why not one of the orcs? Why not a dwarf- why her? Tears spilled down my face, and for the first time in years, I wept loudly. I silenced myself quickly, being careful not to wake the others. In spite of this, I felt a hand place itself solidly on my shoulder.

"Kili?" I asked without turning, noticing the affectionate kind of way that the gesture had been made.
"No." it was a simple statement, but complex enough for me to notice the voice.

"Thorin?" I turned my head. Thorin had his hand on my shoulder. His face was expressionless.

"I heard you crying. The cave echoes, you know." he spoke quietly to me.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you."
"It's alright. It's light out now, anyway. And I'm sorry about Beryll, Faniare."

Was this the first time he had acknowledged me by my name?

"It's okay."

I let out an involuntary sob. To my deepest and most utter surprise, Thorin turned me towards him and put his arms around me in a hug. I copied him, too miserable to object, and began sobbing into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, too." he spoke quietly.
"For what?" I wiped a tear from my eye.
"The way I treat you. It's disgusting. I'm sorry." he looked at me. His dark eyes were full of some expression- something you couldn't show on your face. Was it regret?

As we stood, hugging (accompanied by my weeping), I gained a tremendous respect for Thorin. I realized now that maybe I was meant to be within the company. I had found people I grew to know. They were almost like family, and I mentally compared them to members of a typical family (or an elf family, at least. I'm not sure if dwarves even have families). I realized that Fili was like a brother, Nessime like a sister, Kili- not in a family- but as a lover, and Thorin- almost as some kind of a father.

Maybe, just maybe, I thought, Maybe now, I really belong.