Credit goes to Calenithlon for Khuzdul translations, and info of funeral ceremonies.
Chapter 49 – Regrets to the Fallen
The next morning, Thorin awoke feeling fully rested and… something he hadn't felt in a long time. He vaguely recalled having felt it years ago, before Smaug came. Something stirred in his arms, and he heard a soft sigh of contempt. He opened his eyes, and sure enough, there she was. The woman that had saved him, and the one that had stolen his heart. Ember slept on, a small smile on her face. Thorin smiled. He could certainly see himself waking up like this every morning. He caressed her cheek. Her face scrunched up in discomfort, but she did not wake. Thorin gave a quiet chuckle, finding her expression rather adorable. Her features eased out again, and another sigh escaped her. He carefully removed his arms. She needed her rest.
He got up and quickly washed his face, and got his coat and boots. He stepped out of the tent, and took a deep breath.
"Morning Thorin. Lovely day, isn't it?" Thorin turned as Bilbo stepped up to him, a new pipe hanging out of his of mouth. Thorin chuckled.
"Aye, it is." He said. They stood in silence for a while, before Balin joined them.
"Good morning lads. Sleep well?" He asked kindly. Thorin and Bilbo both smiled at him. Balin smiled back, but seemed a little worried. Thorin noticed his advisor's discomfort.
"Is something wrong Balin?" He asked. Balin nodded.
"Aye…Dain says that the preparations are complete. They are ready." Thorin and Bilbo's faces fell, and Bilbo put out his pipe.
"I'll, um, gather the rest of the Company then." He said softly, and left. Thorin kept his head down. He had held this off long enough. It was time. He closed his eyes.
"Thorin…? Balin?" Thorin and Balin both spun to the tent. Ember stood there, holding the tent flap back with one hand, and another hand over her torso. Her old clothing had been removed during her healing, and now she wore a short tunic that barely went to her knees. And the one sleeve slid off her shoulder slightly. While Thorin didn't mind the view, he quickly pushed the thought from his mind when he realized what she was doing.
"Ember, amrâlimê, you shouldn't be up." Thorin said as he came to her side, offering his arm as support. She released the tent flap, and Thorin grew worried when he saw that she had had a white-knuckle grip on the material. She held onto him for support, but did not seem ready to enter the tent again.
"What are you two talking about? What are you ready for?" She asked softly. Thorin and Ember shared a glance, both uncertain if they should burden her with this. Balin smiled reassuringly and shook his head.
"Nothing you should concern yourself with, lass." He said in a straight voice, but Ember was having none of it.
"If it concerns Erebor, then it concerns me as well." She stated, holding her head high, and for a moment, Balin saw, not just a young woman, but the future Queen under the Mountain. "What has Dain been preparing for?" She asked again. Thorin looked at her and saw the clear determination in her eyes, and sighed. She wasn't going to back down from this.
"We…are about to commence the funeral." He said softly. Ember's eyes widened.
"What?" She asked, growing pale. Balin sighed.
"Many warriors lost their lives, during the Battle. We need to hold a ceremony, to return them to stone. We're also doing the same with…the bodies we found in Erebor." Balin explained tiredly. Thorin didn't blame him. The number of bodies Dain's men had recovered from the Mountain was distressing. To make matters worse, many of the corpses had been children, some barely a few years old. Ember was silent for a few moments.
"I want to be part of the proceedings." Thorin and Balin were both shocked at her sudden conviction.
"Lass, you don't have to…" Balin started.
"Balin is right." Thorin interrupted. He looked up at her in genuine concern. "You are injured, everyone will understand if you do not attend." He said reassuringly, but Ember shook her head.
"How can I claim to be your betrothed and future Queen of Erebor if I sit out of this because of my injuries?" She said earnestly. "Not only would I be disrespecting those who have returned to stone, I would also be shaming the Line of Durin, and myself." She took hold of Thorin's hand. "Please, Ughvashâ, I need to be there."
Thorin opened his mouth to disagree, but then he saw the look in her eyes. It was one he knew well. He had had the same look years ago. After his grandfather's death and his father's disappearance, he had felt it was his duty to prove he was worthy of the title he had inherited.
He sighed.
"Are you sure you are feeling up to it?" He whispered to her, and she confirmed with a firm nod. "Very well then. Balin, have Dori retrieve something suitable for her to wear, and for Amelia and Quinn as well, if they wish to join us." He ordered. Balin bowed and left to do so, while Thorin led Ember back into the tent. Soon, Dori was there, bringing the mentioned articles. Thorin turned his back while Ember dressed behind the screen, remaining close by should she need assistance.
"Thorin…" He heard some material shuffle behind him as she spoke.
"Yes, Mizimuh?" He responded.
"About…about Tauriel…" There was a pause. "Are…are you aware of Kili's feelings towards her?" Thorin could tell that she was nervous about breaching this subject, with good reason. He sighed.
"I am aware." He said, and there was a pause in the shuffling of material. "I am also aware of the fact that she saved my nephew's life in Lake-town, and defended him on Ravenhill." Some more shuffling, then silence.
"And…what will you do, now?" She asked quietly. Thorin gave a dry chuckle as he looked to the floor, then at the ceiling.
"Well, I would be a hypocrite if I sent away the Elf maid my nephew fell in love with, when my own betrothed is a Child of Man." He heard steps and turned as she stepped out from behind the screen.
She was dressed in in a light grey dress with a high neckline and full length sleeves. Dori managed to provide her with a full top that sat loose over her torso, and acted as her over sleeves. Someone had managed to provide her with boots to wear. According to Oin, it was a bad idea not to catch a chill when she was still healing. Thus, she would be kept warm with a cloak one of the Elves had kindly provided on short notice. Some of her hair was pulled back into a ponytail behind her head, her betrothal braids visible. The rest hung down her back. She looked at him with guarded hope.
"So, does that mean you'll let her stay?" He smiled at her and stepped towards her, taking her hands in his, and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"What else can I do? Dis would skin me alive otherwise." Ember giggled, and Thorin chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers. Dwalin called from outside.
"Thorin, we're ready." Thorin and Ember both looked to the tent flap, then at each other.
"Are you sure you wish to do this?" Thorin asked her. "You can still turn back…" She shook her head firmly.
"No, I need to do this." She insisted. Thorin sighed and caressed her cheek.
"Then let us go."
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They stood on the slopes of Erebor, waiting for the fire to be lit. Due to the sheer number of deceased, it was decided that a bonfire would be lit, where those in attendance could throw their offerings of food, drink or anything else they wished to offer into the fire for those who had departed. Ember stood next to Thorin, a small doll in her hands. She had asked Amelia to retrieve it for her. She had first found the doll during Thorin's gold-sickness, when she was exploring. It was charred and blackened, but some of its former splendor remained in the fine, golden hairs and tiny sapphire eyes. The ruby colored dress had faded, but Ember could only imagine how proud the little girl had been about her beautiful doll.
She glanced to Amelia and Quinn, who were standing next to their respective partners. Amelia now boasted her own betrothal braids, while Quinn's remained in a simple fishtail. She and Ori were taking it slowly. Amelia wore a light greenish dress, also with a high neck and full-length sleeves, with a darker green button-up surcoat. A grey cloak covered her shoulders against the heavy chill of early winter. She held a small, wooden sword in her hands. Like Ember's doll, it was similarly charred and blacked, and would serve as her offering.
Quinn wore a light tan dress with round neckline and full length sleeves, with a darker tan corset over the dress. To cover her shoulders, Ori had insisted on wrapping his scarf around her, and while the scribe looked odd without it, it was clear that Quinn was nice and toasty. She also wore a dark grey cloak for extra insolation. In her hands was a small picture of the Lonely Mountain. She had drawn it with Ori's help. Her resolution was that it was best that the departed have something to remember their old home by.
The dwarves surrounded the pyre, each ready with their offering. Thorin stepped forward, Dain next to him, with the torch in his hand. Thorin spoke over the wind.
"Erebor has been reclaimed. The Dragon, Smaug, has been vanquished. And at long last, Azog the Defiler, the bane of the Line of Durin, has been destroyed. But the cost has been great. We have lost many in this battle. Friends, brothers, fathers. We must never forget their bravery, and sacrifice for Erebor and her people." As Dain lowered the torch to the pyre, Thorin murmured.
"Gaubdukhimâ gagun yâkulib Mahal. Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukjil." Everyone repeated his words. Then, Thorin threw his offering into the fire.
Ember looked down at the doll in her hands, brushing it lightly with her thumb. She closed her eyes as a single tear fell from her eye, falling directly on the doll. She lifted the doll and gave it a kiss before throwing it into the fire as well.
She stared as the flames licked up the remainder of the doll. She looked around her as the Dwarves threw their offerings into the fire. She felt… guilt. Guilt for surviving the battle, when so many others did not. She knew it was silly, but… she felt she had to give more. She took a deep breath, and focused on the flames.
"I saw the light fade from the sky Night is now falling
On the wind I heard a sigh
As the snowflakes cover
My fallen brothers
I will say this last goodbye
So ends this day
The road is now calling
And I must away"
She faltered for a moment as she felt eyes turn to her. She wasn't sure if this was accepted. But then, Thorin's hand was holding hers, and she heard Amelia and Quinn humming with her, and she sang on.
"Over hill and under tree Under cloud, beneath the stars And though where the road then takes me,
Through lands where never light has shone
By silver streams that run down to the sea
Over snow and winter's morn
I turn at last to paths that lead home
I cannot tell
We came all this way
But now comes the day
To bid you farewell"
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Thorin stood next to Ember, as a week old conversation resurfaced in his mind.
Thorin sat next to Ember, nibbling on a piece of bread. Bilbo was right. He had to take care of himself for when Ember woke. He heard the tent flap open and turned his head to see Amelia enter.
"Hey." She said softly. Thorin nodded his greeting. She glanced past him to Ember's still form. "No change?" He looked down at Ember. Her color seemed better than the past two days, and her breathing was smooth and even, but she showed no signs of waking. He sighed.
"None." He said softly. Amelia gave an audible sigh and leaned against the pole in the middle of the tent. Things were silent for a while.
"Quinn didn't want to come. She's convinced Ember will stop breathing the moment she comes to see her." Thorin glared at her, before he saw her face. "Hey, back in our world, clichés like that happen. Your best friend gets hit by a car or bullet, and the last time you see them, they are in a hospital and they flat line." Thorin was too tired to point he only understood half of what she said.
"You know… you guys aren't just a book in our world. You're a movie." She paused. "A movie is sorta like a moving picture with sound I guess. Anyway, they get people called actors to play the characters. Sure, it's not the real thing, but it's the closest they can get. When we first saw the movie, Quinn and I saw how Ember gushed over your character, and for a while we thought: 'Hey, she must think Richard Armitage is hot.' He's the guy that plays you, and before you ask, yes he is hot. But as time went on, we began to notice that… she always referred to you, not Armitage, when we spoke about the Hobbit." Thorin glanced at Ember as Amelia shrugged.
"I guess…what I'm trying to say is… she loves you. HAS loved you for a long time. I know it sounds stupid, heck, people in our world would call her crazy, but it's the truth. She loves you more than anyone or anything, Thorin Oakenshield. So you best treat her right." She finished with a huff. Thorin stayed silent. She sighed again.
"They always played a song at the end of the movies. One always got her crying. Because… it finalized that…you died during the Battle." Thorin glanced at her. She looked him dead in the eye.
"You are gonna memorize these words, and memorize them well. Because I sure as heck am not gonna tear up twice teaching you this."
Thorin saw how she trembled as she sang the chorus, and heard the waver in her voice. He took a deep breath.
"Many places I have been Night is now falling
Many sorrows I have seen
But I don't regret
Nor will I forget
All who took that road with me
So ends this day
The road is now calling
And I must away"
Ember seemed slightly startled by his singing as she stared at him while he sang. He gave her hand a squeeze and she nodded, and together they sang to the fallen.
"Over hill, and under tree To these memories I will hold And though where the road then takes me,
Through lands where never light has shone
By silver streams that run down to the sea
With your blessing I will go
To turn at last to paths that lead home
I cannot tell
We came all this way
But now comes the day
To bid you farewell"
The blasting of horns were heard. Dale had agreed to sound the horns in honor of the Dwarves. When the last horn echoed over the plain, Ember sang the last verse.
"I bid you all a very fond farewell"
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As the offerings were thrown into the flames, Dain watched Ember. He saw her silent strength, her utter kindness, and her true beauty. Sure, he noticed her beauty when he saw her on the battlefield (for truly, no Dwarf could deny the sight of a woman walloping the head off an Orc), but now, he saw what his cousin had seen. Her inner beauty. That which made her a glowing ember on a cold night. That which made her a true Dwarf in all but blood.
That which made her a Queen of Erebor.
'Aye…Mahal choose well.'
Khuzdul Translations
Amrâlimê – Love of mine
Ughvashâ – Greatest Treasure
Mizimuh – My Jewel
Gaubdukhimâ gagun yâkulib Mahal – May we meet again with the grace of Mahal
Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukjil – I wish you a safe journey
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