Chapter Thirty-Four: Frerin
T.A. 2881 Ered Luin
Frerin isn't entirely sure why Dis seems to think that he would have any idea at all where her two boys would vanish to when late for dinner. True he has spent more time here in the last eight years than he has since they first settled in the Blue Mountains, but much of that has been spent working and trying to forget why he now has to be here. Besides, he'll be leaving in a few weeks to see Belladonna and her family, to reconcile with his oldest friend even if things between them will never be as they should.
He doesn't know New Belegost as well as he should and part of that is his own fault. This place has never felt like home. Not when they first came, not when he discovered the price of this safe haven was his future happiness. Not in the long months after Azanulbizar when he worked up the courage to tell his siblings that he was alive and resigned himself to his eventual fate, not in the months following his break with Belladonna. Even now, years later, it still has that hollow and transitory feeling that makes him long to get his feet back on the road.
He hears the lads before he sees them. Both boys sound upset and as he comes around the corner of the building he can see why. The lads have been cornered by a group of older dwarves. From their clothes Frerin can see that they are part of that fanatical group of purists that Thorin has never been able to get rid of. They are a sad fact of existence in most dwarf settlements although Frerin is always surprised by the number of them he finds here given New Belegost is mostly under sky. They believe that all dwarves should live under stone and only ever see daylight or sky when there is no other choice, that contact with other races should only happen in the case of essential trade and be limited to one or two families whose bloodlines are strong enough to withstand the taint. Knowing that Frerin has spent so many years travelling, with a companion of unknown race, has made them target him, both for his choices and as an example of why Thorin is unsuitable as a king for allowing it. They would go back to the later days of Thror in Erebor where contact with Dale and the Woodland Realm was diminishing. A time when they looked to their mines and their riches and little else.
Naturally they would find something about Fili and Kili to object to.
"Step away from your half-breed sibling, boy," one of them hisses, laying a large hand on Fili's still slight shoulder. It will be another five or so years, Frerin thinks, until Fili is truly broad enough to be considered battle-ready. If memory serves his father was much the same.
"My brother is half of nothing," Fili snarls in reply, taking a step closer to his brother.
Kili is already the taller and so his head is visible, as are his wide, frightened eyes over his brother's shoulder. He's slender as well, with the kind of delicate features that Frerin has seen more often in the other races. It isn't a new comment, Frerin just wasn't aware that the comments were being made to Kili's face as well as behind his back.
"Step away, Tarl," Frerin orders, wishing he had come better armed but not anticipating any trouble, let alone from five full grown dwarves who would target dwarflings first.
Three of the five turn to him, Tarl, Narl and Varl are known leaders of this particular sect and the source of a lot of Thorin's headaches. Frerin doesn't recognise the other two, even when they look at him as Fili lets out a relieved cry of his name.
"This is none of your concern," Tarl says. "You're a traitor to the stone, Frerin son of Thrain."
"My sister's sons will always be my concern," Frerin replies.
The two Frerin doesn't know seem startled by that information, as though they hadn't realised that the young dwarves they have accosted are of the royal line. Newcomers, then, they have been careful to let it be known only that Dis and Vili had two sons before Vili died. They've kept their names close. No sense in making them targets before they are of age if it can be helped.
"Even the elf-spawn?" Tarl smirks. "That isn't a surprise from one such as you. Is your sister the only one who gives herself to elves or do you also enjoy such perversions?"
It's unfortunate that Fili hasn't yet learnt to control his temper, most dwarflings don't until some time in their forties (and Thorin never has) when their primary focus shifts from their weapons to their crafts. That these dwarves have attacked Kili is bad enough, and Frerin can see Kili's broken bow and scattered arrows at the boy's feet, but now they have also insulted Fili's uncle and mother. Frerin has heard it before, Dis has heard it before although she never dignifies it with a response. Judging by the way Fili flings himself at Tarl's back the boy hasn't. Tarl, sadly, knows what he's doing and is expecting the attack. Frerin wouldn't be surprised if this had been his goal all along, the accidental deaths of the heirs in a street brawl they were goaded into starting.
Dwarves like Tarl are one of the reasons Frerin always kept Belladonna away from the Blue Mountains.
The guard arrives not long after, breaking them all apart to leave the three princes with cuts and bruises and two of Tarl's associates the worse off. It would have ended differently had Frerin not been present and Thorin won't be happy later but Frerin doesn't care. He has larger concerns as the guards lead the purists away, happy to take Frerin's word for the fact that the boys were cornered and the others were spoiling for a fight. Frerin's bigger concern is Fili and Kili.
"Are either of you boys hurt?" He asks, taking each of the lads' chins in hand so he can turn them to look at their faces.
"We're fine," Kili snaps. "It's nothing I haven't heard before." The two blonds share glances and go to the younger to wrap him in their arms.
Frerin doesn't want this for Kili, the rumours that will follow him everywhere and make him question his worth in the same way they did Frerin during his childhood. Life as a prince isn't easy, especially life as the spare. There is a weight on Fili's shoulders that neither Frerin or Kili will ever understand but they have their own burdens too. They are the spare, they exist only to take the place of the eldest should the worst happen. They will be sacrificed to battle or political alliance with no thought to their future or happiness.
"Nothing they say is true," Fili says before Frerin can speak to reassure the boy. "You know that don't you?"
The boys may fight like cat and dog a lot of the time, but they are closer than Thorin and Frerin ever were, too often pitted against one another by their father and grandfather, and that is increasing as they mature. It will serve them well in the future, to be able to lean on one another in ways that their uncles never could.
"Of course, I do," Kili leans into both of them.
"I don't think your mother has ever seen an elf," Frerin adds. "There's nothing but dwarf in you, lad. Come on, your Amad sent me to find you and I'd rather she not have even more of a reason to contemplate shaving my beard."
T.A. 2941 The Road to Erebor
The spend two days in Lake Town in the end. Two days while Frerin watched Belladonna, Bluebell and Fili struggle with being so thoroughly cut off from earth and stone. While it had been necessary in the Shire to keep Belladonna cut off from the earth at night, here in Lake Town it's obviously torturous for them. Bifur, Bofur and Bombur are far less affected that Fili but by the time they all leave the Ur's are obviously starting to struggle as well. They would have left long before, but the Master kept on attempting to strike a new bargain and demand more gold and more assurances that the dwarves will not allow Lake Town to suffer any fall out from Thranduil.
Even though it is late on the second day when they depart, they decide not to linger just in case the Master comes up with something new to stall them. They are accosted once, and briefly, by a man named Bard who tries to persuade them not to enter the mountain. He begs them to think of the children in Lake Town and not the Men. That hits Frerin harder than the rest, if he could he would leave Belladonna here and come back for her once the Arkenstone is retrieved.
He can't.
Belladonna won't be safe in Lake Town, no matter his reasons for leaving her the lake would kill her if she stayed upon it as surely as it would if she were to fall into it. For the same reason they decline the offer of boats if they will only wait until morning. Even Thorin hasn't missed the effect the water is having on so many members of their party and they have a little over a week until Durin's Day. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they are back on dry land and they set a quick pace on their newly acquired ponies. Not in any real hurry, just because they want to put as much distance as they can between themselves and the Master of Lake Town.
The road between Dale and the lake is nothing like Frerin remembers. Before Smaug the area would have been covered in farms, rich soil with bountiful crops and vast pastures full of cattle and sheep would have stretched as far as the eye could see. Now it is little more than a wind-swept expanse of empty house carcasses, mud and dry, sparse, patches of grass. The few trees are spindly, their bare branches reaching towards the sky as though little more than skeletal fingers.
"Do you think the dragon did this?" Bluebell asks from her place on the other side of Belladonna. "You always said the land was beautiful and plentiful when you told us about Erebor, Adad."
"I suppose it must have," Frerin replies. "I'll admit I never thought this might be a result of losing Erebor."
"None of us did," Thorin replies unexpectedly, things between the brothers are still tense since their argument.
Frerin spent more time outside the mountain than Thorin did, he had less responsibility after all. Thorin had always been eager to go hunting when he could, however, and the land around the mountain and Dale had been a rich hunting ground.
"It feels strange," Belladonna says. "The land. Not sick like Mirkwood, I don't think there's enough life left in it for that. Just cold, like it doesn't want anyone here. Not us or the Men or even the elves."
"I feel it too," Fili adds. "In the stone. I've never felt anything like it before." Eyes turn towards Bofur who twists in his saddle to look back at Fili from under his hat.
"Don't go looking at me for answers," he laughs, "there's too much earth here for me to feel anything." His brother and cousin shake their heads as well, which is no great surprise given that Bofur's Stone Sense is easily the strongest after Fili's. It lends an unwelcome sense of doom to the journey.
Several days later, as they dismount to make camp, Bluebell lets out a surprised noise as soon as her feet touch the ground. Belladonna does the same and reaches for her daughter.
"Can you feel that?" she asks and Bluebell nods. "There were hobbits here, once." She smiles at her husband.
"You're certain?" Frerin asks. "How can you tell?"
They have stopped in one of the few areas near the ruins of Dale that still show signs of life. Thick blackberry bushes, still with the odd withered berry attached to their branches, surround a lush (comparatively speaking) area of grass which will provide the ponies with better grazing than they had been able to find in all the nights before. That should be evidence enough that there is something different about this little hill, but its odd shape and the strange dips also mark it as unusual.
"This was probably once a smial," Bluebell smiles. "The earth is full of the Blessing, stronger than it is in the Shire even after all this time."
"We've only been settled there a little over a thousand years," Belladonna points out. "The Blessing used to be much stronger in us before the Wandering diminished it."
The two walk further up the hill with Frerin and Thorin following close by. Things between the brothers are tense and that tension is building with every step that seems to confirm that hobbits once lived at the foot of Erebor. Though they are obviously curious, the others have busied themselves with making camp, using the oddly shaped hill as partial shelter from the biting wind and apparently content for the hobbits to finish their investigation.
For the first time in weeks Belladonna and Bluebell move with a lightness of step that hasn't been seen in too long and emphasises how connected to the land beneath their feet hobbits truly are.
"Look," Bluebell points towards the open plain that runs around what's left of Dale and towards the base of the mountain.
It's a strange looking spread of hills and rocky outcrops. He never would have noticed the peculiarity of them as a child in Erebor, the grass on them would have been thick and lush and there had been a forest growing here at one point as well. He does remember playing there, sometimes, and that he would occasionally find broken pieces of pot and china. He remembers how some of the hills had collapsed in on themselves in strange ways that would form the floorplan of forts and caves for his childhood games. Now that he has lived in the Shire and seen how hobbits built their homes those collapsed hills make more sense. The hills they can see now are like islands of green in a grey wasteland.
"This really could be where we started," Belladonna breathes.
Every now and then, according to his wife, one of the more powerfully Blessed hobbits will decide to attempt to retrace the steps of their ancestors and find out where they came from. None ever return and Frerin is beginning to understand why. The hobbits must have meandered their way around this side of the Misty Mountains for decades before finding their way across to the other side in their search for a home. He and Belladonna had spent a decade doing the same, although never seriously, and to have actually found it is thrilling.
"No one will believe us when we tell them back in the Shire," Bluebell laughs.
Thorin and Frerin share a long look. They had partially canvased this during their argument a few days before. An argument caused by Thorin admitting that there had been a clause in the contract with Frhna which could have released Frerin from his betrothal if they had only understood its meaning more clearly. A clause relating to an ancient ally and the obligation of a prince of the line to marry a child of that race should they prove to be their One. They had never known what it referred to until Legolas began to speak of ancient hobbits in the area, for all the good it would have done if they had. The only proof of it would have lain inside Erebor, if it still exists at all. Now Frerin has to wonder if Bluebell realises how unlikely it is that she will ever return to the Shire after the mountain is reclaimed. With the two hobbits distracted the topic has once again come to the fore of their minds.
"Do you see, now, why I left?" Frerin asks, his eyes on the excitedly chattering hobbits.
"I do," Thorin is also watching them, "although I wouldn't have then. Do you see why I didn't tell you about the terms? We couldn't have proven anything before coming here." There is a moment of silence. "Will you do it a third time?" Thorin asks suddenly. "Will you turn your back on us again when this is over and vanish without a word?"
"No," Frerin sighs. "If Belladonna wants to go back to the Shire, I will go with her and our child, of course, but I will tell you first."
"Your place is with your family, nadadith," Thorin huffs.
"She is my family, she was always my family," Frerin argues. "Will you not let this go? The past is done, and it does us no good to keep going over it." Bluebell has turned to watch them and Frerin can see Fili approaching when he turns to look. "You are not Thror, Thorin, learn to give a little before you become too much like him to go back." Thorin turns hard eyes on him.
"I am nothing like our grandfather," he hisses.
"No, you are not," Frerin replies. "Mahal willing you will never become like him. If you will only learn to bend. I left, and I am sorry for how I did it. But I am not, and never will be, sorry for the outcome. I have everything I could ever have wanted, Thorin. Belladonna will not wish to leave so long as Bluebell is here, and Bluebell will go wherever Fili is."
The young dwarf in question has his arms wrapped around his betrothed and his head resting on top of hers as he listens to her talking about what she had found. Frerin wonders if Fili is able to hear the stone in the area. He wonders what it is telling his sister-son and what stories he might be sharing. Belladonna stands to one side watching them with a fond smile, the wind blowing her dress about her calves. She is at peace, he realises, more than she has been in years.
"Promise me something, nadadith," Thorin says and when Frerin looks at him the hard mask of the king is gone and Thorin looks vulnerable for it. "Promise me that if you see signs of the madness taking me you will take your wife and your children and our sister's sons and leave."
"You are not Thror," Frerin reminds him.
"Who is to say that will still be true ten years from now? When Erebor is ours, the Arkenstone claimed and our people in their true home once more, promise it to me. If you ever see that I am falling to the gold as our grandfather did, leave."
Thorin genuinely fears this, Frerin realises. There is madness in their family, Frerin knows it as well as anyone, and he fears he will fall to it as much as Thorin does. He also knows that of the two of them, he is the less likely to experience it. Frerin will lead a quiet life once Erebor is reclaimed, more than likely in a little house in an artificial hill on the slopes of the mountain with Belladonna's garden and their child. She will thrive away from the Shire, he thinks. He looks up at his brother, Thorin has always been the taller, and recognising how important this is he takes a breath.
"I swear it, brother," he says finally. "If I ever see the signs of Thror's sickness in you I will take my wife, my children, our sister's sons and Dis and go."
"Thank you," Thorin breathes in relief. "Although I think you would have to knock Dis over the head and tie her into a sack to get her to leave."
"If Mahal likes me at all I won't ever have to worry about it," Frerin replies simply, nudging his brother's shoulder with his own.
"If He likes you more than the rest of us, He shows exceedingly poor taste," Thorin grumbles, drawing a laugh from Frerin.
Just like that Thorin's moment of vulnerability is gone and he turns back to camp as Belladonna comes to Frerin's side and tucks herself under his arm. They stand this way, watching Fili and Bluebell talk, until Bofur calls up that dinner is ready.
A.N: We don't really get to see how much the idea that he might fall to the same madness as his father and grandfather might have played on Thorin's mind. We get glimpses and hints but in the original he didn't really have anyone to confide in about it, he felt he had to remain apart from the others due to being king and who else better to speak your fears to than your brother. I don't think he declares he isn't grandfather out of arrogant belief that he won't fall the same way, I think he uses it as a shield to keep the fear at bay.