037: Loud
Kili cries in the night.
The boy's cries draw him out of his study late one night. Upstairs, Thorin finds Dis is already up feeding him.
She offers a tired smile, seeing him framed in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"Strong lungs. He'll be a warrior yet."
As she speaks she runs her fingers in circles down his back. Thorin frowns; the raven-haired child looks smaller every time he sees him. Kili, Dis called him.
Thorin moves quietly into the room and stands at his sister's back. Dis's hair lies long and unkempt; she has not taken out her ragged marriage braid since...since that night.
Absently Thorin threads his hands through her hair, weaving the fallen strands together. Avnor is gone. The child is too early. Dis is broken for it.
"Spare me that look, Thorin Oakenshield."
"What look?"
Dis twists around, a familiar fire in her eyes. "That look. A princess of Durin does not deserve your pity."
Kili cries anew.
"Shh, mizimuh," Dis whispers, stroking his damp hair. And then she hums for him, a song of misty mountains and sadness.
When she is done, Thorin touches her shoulder.
"You will survive." It is an order.
"We will survive." Dis's eyes smoulder.