Happy Late-Valentine's Day! And Ash Wednesday:( Ugh! I gave up my thing and am already craving it!
As for the Valentine's part, I thought it would be appropriate to say that for this chapter, according to what comes next. Thank you for the reviews and followings. As usual, they give me a good cheering up and I am excited to show you more, especially when the action starts again. I'm in the mood for some action thrills, are you? After this chapter, of course!
This chapter is also going to contain a huge piece of TLL, except it will only be Thorin's thoughts. Huge flashback. If you already read it, then you can skip. Or not. It will still be a mixture of past and present.
There's going to be a lot flashbacks, a lot of feels, and more Fili/OC in this;) Enjoy!
Chapter 12
"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain," Balin began his story, "King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient halls of Moria, on of the greatest dwarf cities in all of Middle Earth. He had hoped to move our people into its great halls, regain their full strength and their fortune by thriving on the riches of mithril, the earth's finest silver...our king was very determined." Balin took a deep breath, as his brown eyes drifted into memory. "But our enemy had gotten there first, and thus began the Battle of Azanulbizar."
Thorin continued gazing out into the darkness of the woodland, his back on his kin, the hobbit, and the humans, but he looked for nothing. Memories that forever burned into his heart and mind resurrected from Balin's words, passing over his eyes like watching them through many windows. The horrors. The blood. The tragedies...his grandfather...his brother...
"Legions were relentlessly led against the orcs, but their numbers were too great, led by the most vile of all their race," Balin said slowly and even trembled slightly from the memory, "Azog the Defiler. The giant pale orc of Gundabad, who had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin."
"What's a line of Durin?" asked Lori.
"Descendants," Balin explained to her, "from the father of all dwarves known as Durin the Deathless, the first dwarf ever to have awoken from our maker, Aule. He is the reason dwarves are known as Durin's Folk, and he who was the beginning of the royal family. Thorin, Fili and Kili's direct ancestor."
"Oh." Lori gasped. "So Azog was gonna kill 'em?" She still didn't know who this Azog the Defiler was, or what he looked like, but the name itself was enough to send cold shivers through her little body, like learning the new name of a monster from a horror story.
Balin nodded. "He began..." He took a deep breath and there a barely tiny tremor in his voice when he said, "...by beheading the king."
Lori made a small noise. Kyle's eyes widened sympathetically. Maia couldn't move, but her eyes moved toward the lit firewood, trying not imagine the scenerio behind Balin's words (it was one thing learning about beheadings from history books, but another from a close relative of someone she was traveling with and trying to get to know). It was awful. She could feel Fili's tension next to her, and she knew he was upset again. Probably worse than before. Bilbo glanced back to where Thorin remained, unmoved in the darkness like a still phantom. The wind seemed to pick up, the cold night air sinking in.
"Thorin's father was driven mad by grief," continued Balin. "He went missing, taken prisoner or killed. We did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us."
They were all looking toward Balin with awed expressions, the young one they were (even Bilbo), waiting for what happened next, listening contently and trying to imagine the battle this elderly dwarf had been a part of. Balin then smiled. "That is when I saw him," he whispered, and then looked in Thorin's direction with unwavering admiration. "A young Dwarf Prince facing down the pale orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield."
Kyle exhaled, nodding in acknowledgement. "Oakenshield," he stated, now understanding where Thorin had received his name. Just a simple branch as a shield against a weapon? He couldn't help but imagine how incredible that would have looked...and scary-ass insane.
Balin nodded, before looking toward Fili and Kili, saying, "Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken."
Fili and Kili had looked up from where they sat, the heat of the story and the glow of the fire lighting their sad, but hardened expressions. Though they were still very young, still had much to learn, they truly looked like princes of Erebor. For the first time, Maia, Kyle, Bilbo, and even little Lori seemed to think so, as well.
Thorin didn't have to turn around for Balin to know how much their uncle was proud of his nephews...even now, when they didn't realize it. Balin had paused for a long while, the ghost of his grief coming back when he thought about what happened next.
"And then?" Maia was the first to ask, but she did so gently, seeing the haunted expression in Balin's face. Fili looked down, and Kili shifted uncomfortably.
Balin took a deep breath, glancing at Thorin briefly, before continuing softly, "At that same moment, when he overpowered Azog...Thorin had not only lost his grandfather and his father, but also his brother. Frerin." They was a deafening silence from the young ones; Maia's eyes widened. "He was young. Too young. He was barely alive when Thorin held him. Dwalin and I had fought off the orcs, long enough for the two of them to say goodbye."
"Oh, God..." Maia whispered. Kyle swallowed and Lori whispered very quietly, "That's so sad." Thorin had a brother. Fili and Kili had another uncle.
"When Frerin died, Thorin made his stand," Balin said, "became our commander, right then. He did not break. He swore the vengeance of his kin, the vengeance of our people, for the enemy would be driven to the ground by the might and fury of Durin's Folk. It was then the Dwarf Armies cried out, 'Oakenshield,' a name that would then become legend. It was a name that has diminished our fears and replaced it with hope. Our forces rallied, and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated." Balin's eyes dropped sadly. "But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived."
When the children and hobbit looked up, they realized that all the dwarves were awake, standing up, listening to the story. Most of them were turning towards Thorin, who continued looking out into the wilderness, but in his stillness, they could tell he was listening to his friend speaking.
"And I thought to myself, then...there was one whom I could follow." Balin looked to Thorin again, pride glittering fiercely in his eyes. "There is one...I could call King."
Thorin had then turned around, emotion showing clearly in his eyes, the wind sweeping his black hair back. He had meant to face his young nephews, when he had unable to before, but instead he found the entire company awake, standing before him with awe and pride in all of them. Dwalin nodded in his direction, Ori held a look of wonder, Nori with respect, Bofur with a fond smile, Bifur in calm silence...while recalling the worst of times for their leader, all showed the unwavering devotion of their king.
Thorin let out a shuddering breath, keeping his emotions in check, and nodded to them all in appreciation, before he started walking back toward the campfire. Fili nodded to him in careful respect, but Kili kept avoiding his gaze, still looking hurt and ashamed. Lori was looking at him, though, her brown eyes wide with pity, and Kyle with his grey. Those familiar gray-blue, nearly hidden under a mop of black bangs. This was one of the few times they had ever seen emotion from Thorin Oakenshield, even when it barely resurfaced.
Thorin did not want their pity, but he said nothing. It wasn't worth taking his hurt out on children, not when he had already done so to Kili, which he already regretted, but refused to take back. It was for his own good, Thorin thought.
"And the pale orc," Bilbo finally spoke, reflecting the Dainsons' unspoken thoughts, while turning to Balin, "what happened to him?"
Thorin growled and turned away, barely looking at the hobbit when he said spitefully, "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."
"Good," Kyle said quietly. Thorin turned slightly to meet Kyle's blazing eyes for a moment, but then went back to the rocky ledge where he had been previously seated.
Gandalf, who been listening near the tree, took out his pipe and met Balin's brief glance. Doubt was exchanged between them. Kyle was the only one who noticed, at the corner of his eye and felt a flutter of anxiety in his stomach.
He had a feeling that there was more to this story than the old dwarf was letting on. Something about this pale orc that Thorin, the Dwarf King, didn't know. And he didn't like it.
Somewhere in the skies above, a falcon sang.
Beknownst to the dwarf company, in the dark of the night, was a flash of silver. Beneath the crescent moon, its pale light revealed the sings of a falcon, sharp and pure as the blade of Narsil. It sang its deadly tune as the avian of the skies soared over the camp of dwarves, wary of the gray wizard that may recognize the black symbols on its silken chest.
With another screech, the falcon landed on the branch of a tree, which was perch on another cliff facing the Company of Dwarves. Beneath the tree, hidden in the shadows, the growl of a huge canine rumbled from the gloom. Predatory eyes lit up from the darkness, pale as the moon.
The ginger warg from Gundabad crouched low, facing the view of the campsite across the valley distance, baring its fangs hungrily. Feast of dwarf-meat, it growled with dangerous longing.
The orc that rode the back of the warg, spikes shrouding his shoulders and a jagged spear clenched his left hand, bared his fangs with a hiss. His red eyes matched the hunger of his warg. When the falcon had landed, it let out another musical squawk. The half-orc, Fimbul, grinned maliciously in understanding and glanced back at orcs and wargs surrounding him in the back, who made rasping noises in excitement.
"Send word to your master," Fimbul growled in Black Speech, speaking up at the falcon. He did not speak 'bird'-if it were up to him and orcs, he would likely eat the bird first-but they knew the falcon was no ordinary bird. "We have found the dwarf-scum."
With that, the falcon launched off the branch with a flap of is wings, its silver flash soon disappearing over the woodlands.
"Should we raid the dwarf-filth?" the orc next to him rasped.
"No," Fimbul spat. As much as he wanted to, he feared the wrath of his master. "We wait for the order...and then we feast on dwarf for another day."
It was later in the night when Balin had started telling a story about the time he fallen into a lake while trying to catch a really big fish during his younger days in Erebor with his father, Fundin (he was never fond of fishing ever since). The old dwarf warrior, though he had kept the story of Azanulbizar as less graphic as possible, had been concerned with Lori having nightmares after this, as Fili and Kili had done when they were little dwarflings, so he decided to lighten some spirits by telling a happier story of his own (though Thorin could imagine it was miserable one in Balin's point of view). Most of the dwarves, having already heard this one, went back to sleep.
Thorin wasn't listening, Balin's voice and Lori's giggles just background noise compared to all the painful thoughts that filled his head. The story had brought back old memories, horrifying images that Thorin wished he could forget. He could still hear the rings of steel from the iron swords and shields, the smell of blood and sweat, and hear the cries of death and despair...
Thorin looked on in horror at the nightmare before him. He froze in the midst of the heavy battle around him, as Azog the Defiler lifted the head of Thror, the King Under the Mountain, his grandfather, roaring in triumph for all to witness. The bellows of the large, pale orc sent ice in his veins. All other sounds faded, and the young Dwarf Prince was numb.
Laughing cruelly, Azog tossed the head of their king. Not breathing, Thorin watched as it rolled down the hill, until stopping five feet away at his feet. Thror's blue eyes stared up at him, his face forever frozen with his shock and previous madness.
"NOOOOOO!" Thorin screamed, his agonized voice heard through the clashing of swords and cries of death. The air smelled of blood, ash, burnt flesh, and death. His numbness was instantly replaced by fire. A hot, blazing fire made of rage and pure malice. Blood lust.
Still roaring, Thorin began to charge at the orc, but a strong hand caught his chest. He fought it, but the hand was stronger. It had a jeweled ring with a rune on it. One of the seven. When the haze cleared, he recognize the one-eyed, roguish features of Thrain.
"Father!" gasped Thorin, fighting to get around him, unsuccessfully.
"Stay back!" snarled Thrain. Though one of the fiercest dwarves Thorin had ever known, the mad grief was clear as day in Thrain's eyes.
Thorin, his eldest, could always read him better than the other two. His young blue eyes changed to grief and desperation. "No!" he said roughly, gripping his father's arm now. "I will fight with you! He killed Grandfather! He killed our king! That orc filth needs to die!" He spat.
"Azog needs to kill us all!" Thrain hissed urgently.
Thorin's eyes widened and now looked unsure, so Thrain continued, "One by one, he will destroy the line of Durin! But by my life, he will not take my son! He will take none of my children! Not while I still breathe!" he growled, now lifting his axe.
"Father-"
"You must find Frerin! Find your brother! Get as far away from here as you can!" Thrain ordered. "Find your sister and her son! Keep them safe!" He started to go, his tattooed features twisting in rage and despair. "We should never have come here! The battle is already lost!"
Thorin became angry. "Not while we still stand!" he shouted, gripping his sword and shield. "We are the sons of Durin! WE DO NOT FLEE FROM A FIGHT! YOU ALWAYS SAID-"
"YOU WILL OBEY ME!" roared Thrain, pointing his axe toward Thorin, making his son step back. He hated doing this, but Thorin can be just about as stubborn as he was and this was the only way. "YOU WILL STAY BACK AND FLEE WITH YOUR BROTHER!"
Thorin stared at him in shock, backing away slightly. Thrain hated himself at that moment, but he didn't back down. The grief for his father, Thror, and the need to protect his family drove him. "DON'T YOU DARE FOLLOW ME, BOY!"
Thorin watched in horror as his father charged through the crowd of orcs with a vengeful cry, to where Azog still stood.
"FATHER!" Thorin bellowed. But he pushed back by another raid of orc. Growling curses, Thorin slashed them all down with the strokes of his sword, Deathless, and breaking necks with his shield. An orc had leapt on his shoulders, scratching his already blooded face, but Thorin thrust his sword upward, stabbing it in the face. Throwing the body off of him, trying to catch his breath, he realized that he had lost the point of where his father had charged Azog.
He couldn't find Azog. He couldn't find his father. It was hopeless. But he remembered his father's orders and gritted his teeth to keep tears of despair from escaping. He knew Thrain was right. This was all a hopeless cause from the very beginning. All for mithril. All for the desires of a king still trapped under dragon sickness.
Breathing heavily, still fighting through orcs, Thorin screamed out, "FRERIN! FRERIN! VILI!"
Thorin knew it was cowardly to run, but if it protected his little brother, his sister, his nephew-oh, his precious little nephew-and yes, even his brother-in-law, he would gladly live with the shame, knowing they would all live to fight another day. He would find Frerin, and then Thorin will call the dwarves for a retreat.
In a distance, he spotted Dwalin. Then he saw Balin. The brothers of Fundin fought side by side, taking down the deadly creatures with the valiant strokes of their blades, Dwalin kept roaring like madman as he swung his twin axes, Taker and Keeper, into the spine of a large, beastly dwarf.
Thorin was fighting his way to join them, ask them if they had seen either Frerin or Vili, his brothers (one by blood and one by marriage), when Balin saw him. His friend's eyes widened in horror and he pointed, shouting, "THORIN!"
When Thorin turned around, he gasped as a massive club hit his shield aside. The impact was strong enough to send him flying over a short slope, tumbling painfully over rocks and corpses. Gasping for air, hair in his face, he looked up to see his attacker.
Azog the Defiler was readying his massive club, walking toward him with cruel, predatory grin on his monstrous features. He was coming toward Thorin. Thrain was nowhere to be seen. He was most likely dead.
Filled with adrenaline, his side burning from perhaps cracked ribs, Thorin frantically looked around to find his sword and shield. He found his sword-and next to it, an oaken branch.
Azog the Defiler, roaring, had leapt off the cliff after him, raising his club to smash the young dwarf's head. Without thinking, Thorin grabbed the branch and raised it above his head, bracing himself for another bone-crushing impact. Should he die from the blow, he found himself thinking of...
Fili.
Thorin thought both his arms would break, if not for all his years of heavy blacksmithing, when Azog club crashed over the oaken branch. The wood split, but it didn't break, its sturdiness surprising him. Again the club came, and Thorin blocked the blow again. Again. And again.
His arms growing heavy and his chest still burning, Thorin felt himself trip backwards as he dodged the next swing. He was out breath. He was hurting. He was on fire, physically, mentally, and emotionally. As frightened as he was by this giant Gundabad orc, it was nowhere compared to the hatred Thorin felt. The blood lust. The need to rid of this filth that killed his grandfather, his father...his brother? The very idea that Azog may have already killed his baby brother sent Thorin in a fury that threatened to consume him.
The oaken branch still on his chest, his right arm outstretched...his fingers found the familiar iron hilt of Deathless...
"GURU!"* Azog roared, as he swung his club for a killing blow.
As though time had slowed, the world had slowed, Thorin rolled to his feet and swung Deathless with all his might, the vengeful club raining over his head.
Blood splashed the earth.
Thorin had felt his sword cut clean through flesh and bone with all his strength, his mind raging like the fires of Smaug. Panting, he watched as Azog let out a scream of agony, holding up the bloody black stump from where his hand had been, which now lying limp on the ground with the giant club. So much blood spilling, squirting from the handless arm. Still screaming, the giant Gundabad orc fell to his knees, weakened and mourning his lost hand. The left hand that wielded his weapons.
Azog the Defiler was at his mercy.
Thorin clutched Deathless and his oaken shield, his side still burning, but he felt stronger. His emotions flooded in the haze of his bloodlust. This monster had killed many dwarves, many people. He killed his grandfather and possibly his father. Thorin readied his sword as the orc's pale eyes met his, looking crazed with agony, rage, and a hint of fear, for one who thrived on pain and death.
Good, thought Thorin. He should be afraid, because Thorin was going to behead him, as the orc did to Thror. He was going to make Azog suffer for all the horrors he caused...
Just as he was about raise his sword, some cold feeling swept over him, sending shivers down his spine. It was pure instinct; something felt wrong. He did not know why he looked up, over Azog's bowed head...but when he did, Thorin felt all the air leave him as he felt a gasp escape him.
In the distance, not too far away on the rocky hills of battling orcs and dwarves, Thorin saw Frerin. High in the air, impaled by a sword protruding from his chest through the back, the large orc holding him up for all to see. His baby brother's mouth open with a soundless scream, his head tossed back limply.
This was worse than seeing his grandfather beheaded. Worse than anything Thorin could ever imagine. He felt as though the spear had run through his own body. He couldn't move. It couldn't be real. Not Frerin. Not Frerin. Please, not Frerin!
"FRERIN!" Thorin screamed, loud enough to be heard by all in the loud chaos. The orc had then waved his sword, and Frerin went flying off, his body rolling down the hill with a crash.
Still screaming and sobbing at once, Thorin charged around Azog, forgetting the pale orc completely. Blinded by grief and bloodlust, Thorin butchered every orc in his path, even shoving aside a few dwarves, to get to the one that murdered his beloved brother. But before Thorin could reach it, a flash of dirtied gold whipped in his vision and he saw that Vili had beaten him to his vengeance. There had never been such murderous hatred in his brother-in-law's features until now, as his sister's husband flew forward and knocked the large orc with such a force that sent them flying backward into the crowd, out of sight.
"NO! NO!" shouted Thorin, fearing for Vili, also angry for losing sight of the monster that killed his brother, now unable to slay the thing himself. But at the same time, he was grateful. He had to get to Frerin. He had to see him, mourn him. Even just for a minute.
Thorin was lost to reason in his tears when he found Frerin lying there on his back on the slope of the hill. He knelt at his brother's side...and found to his shock that Frerin was moving, spasming and gasping for breath. His heaving chest was heavily covered with blood, spilling to the ground, making a puddle around him. Even his mouth was coughing up blood.
Still gasping with grief and lost of words, Thorin leaned over his baby brother and lifted his head for him to breathe easier. He smoothed the black hair strands out his face. "Frerin..." he gasped, breathlessly. "Nadadith..."
Still panting, Frerin opened his eyes, their pale blue hazed with agony and already filled with tears. As he frantically tried to search for the voice, Thorin called out to him again, and Frerin's eyes found him. "Thor...Thorin?" he wheezed. His lifted that trembled with effort, touching his older brother's face, who caught it and held it there.
"Shhh, I'm here," croaked Thorin, tears escaping and running down his cheeks, through Frerin's bloody fingers. "I'm here, Frerin." He pressed a hand over the gaping wound, even though he knew it was hopeless. There was no way Frerin would survive this; it was amazing that his little brother was still breathing. "Oh, Mahal! Frerin..."
Frerin's ashen expression relaxed slightly. A tear escaped his eye as he smiled up at Thorin, hand still stroking his face. "You're...you're alright...Thorin...I was...was afraid...I'm sorry..." He started coughing wetly, spitting more blood. Thorin, trying to swallow his panic, shifted his brother into his lap and cradles him, trying to make him more comfortable.
"Vili! Where's Vili?" coughed Frerin, his eyes shut as he struggled for breath. "He...he was here..."
"He's fine. He's-He's fighting...Don't try to talk," Thorin chokes out, stroking Frerin's black hair. "Please, Frerin...please, hold on...We'll-We'll get you through this, nadadith..."
Frerin slowly opened his eyes and shook his head with a sad smile. "No," he breathed. He wipes Thorin's tears with his thumb. "Please...stay...until I sleep..."
Thorin nodded and kisses the dying dwarf's hand before gathering his brother closer to his chest. Frerin whispers, "Father...?"
Thorin shakes his head, more tears escaping. "I don't know. But the pale orc...he will harm no one ever again."
Frerin chuckled, breathlessly. "You got him?"
"Aye," Thorin smiled, but it was tightened with pain. Frerin fingers touched the corners of his brother's smile gently. They felt cold to the touch.
"Vili...get him home, nadad..." whispered Frerin. More tears escaped his eyes, washing away some of the dirt ad blood. "Dis...Fili...you'll take...take care of them...will you?"
"Always," Thorin says softly. "You know that. Frerin, please...please..."
"You are..." He winced in pain and takes deep breaths before continuing in a raspy voice, "You are the strongest...most stubborn...dwarf...I've ever known...Fight, my brother...Live for me...if not...then for...for the child...please…p-promise me, Thorin..." The light in his blue eyes starts to fade.
The child. Did Frerin mean Fili? Thorin shuts his eyes to seek what was left of his strength by picturing the little, smiling golden haired child who was his heir and his greatest treasure...his heart...and then nods as he pulls his brother up, until the two are pressing foreheads, Frerin's breath growing faint. "I promise," he whispered in a shaky breath. Tears fall heavily down his face, over Frerin's wound. "Frerin, I promise...I'm so sorry. I love you, little brother. S-stay with me."
Frerin gazes up at Thorin with a weak smile, also full of tears and love, hand still on his cheek to wipe away the tears that ran down his normally stoic brother's face. He uses the last of his strength to raise his other hand and place it over Thorin's chest, gripping where his heart still beat, before drawing his last breath.
"In here...always," he gasps out, another tear escaping him, as he gazed up at his beloved brother one last time. "I love...you...Thorin..."
Thorin watches as his brother's meets his eyes, sharing one last twinkle in their tearful gaze, Frerin smiling even as he breathed his last and the light faded from his blue eyes. His hand that had been cupping Thorin's face leaned limply against his shoulder.
Breathing frantically, Thorin grabbed that hand and desperately struggled to feel for a pulse. But no...Frerin was gone.
A strangled cry escaped Thorin. He clutched his brother closer to him, burying his face into stained dark hair, and cried. He wanted to die. He wanted follow Frerin, his brave, brave brother, a true son of Durin, his other half...
"Thorin!" He felt a hand on his shoulder. Balin. "Thorin, you have to get up!" Balin sounded choked up with tears. When Thorin gripped his brother more tightly, Balin tried again, more urgently. "Thorin, Dwalin and I cannot hold them for much longer! We have to move!"
"What?" Thorin looked up suddenly, tears still on his bloodstained face. He saw Balin standing over him, his face covered his cuts and his gray-brown beard missing a few tuffs. Dwalin was standing further out with his twin axes, taking down every orc that attempted to get near them with a murderous roar.
Balin looked desperate. "The king is dead, and there is no sign of Thrain! We're leaderless! Thorin, we cannot win if we stay any longer! Should we call for the retreat?"
Dwalin growled at this. He hated running away from anything, even when it meant his death, but he didn't argue as he waited for Thorin's decision.
Thorin's teary face then darkened. A growl escaped from the Dwarf Prince, his hands gripping his dead brother's body so hard it shook, the blood still all over his hands and armor. Breathing heavily, Thorin felt himself steel over and his heart become cold as stone as he closed Frerin's eyes. Then, gently, he laid his body across the slope of the hill, where it will be safe, where he could find him when it was all over. He then leaned over and kissed Frerin's brow.
"Farewell, my brother," he murmured. "Your death will not be in vain."
Thorin stood up, her shoulders rigid, fists clenched, and eyes closed. Balin and Dwalin were looking to him anxiously. "Thorin, do we call the retreat?" repeated Balin.
"No," Thorin said. His tone was quiet and venomous. He turned around to face him, his sharp blue eyes steely and murderous, carrying a fire that burned brighter than ever before. "There will be no retreat," he hissed. "I will not run. I will not hide. I will not cower from the very creatures THAT HAVE MURDERED MY PEOPLE, HAVE MURDERED MOST OF MY FAMILY, AND WILL NOT STOP UNTIL EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US ARE BLEEDING AT THEIR FEET!" he roared, his booming voice causing both Fundin brothers to flinch, but at the same time, awe crossed their faces at Thorin's strength. He turned to Balin. "You say we are leaderless. Not anymore. I will not stop until all the filth that plagues our sacred halls are buried alive beneath our feet! I will not stop, until we finish what we have started!"
"Yes," growled Dwalin, baring his teeth beneath his beard. Even Balin started to raise his sword in determination, nodding in grim approval. Dwarves started to gather around, their previous fear becoming a burning determination.
"I have crippled the leader of the orc armies," continued Thorin, looking all of them in the eye. In result, he picked back up Deathless and his oaken shield. "Azog the Defiler will bleed to death like a pig before his leads his army of filth against the might of dwarves. It is they who are now leaderless. We shall run them to the ground, slay every last one of them, so they will forever remember to NEVER underestimate the iron hearts of DURIN'S FOLK!" Thorin raised his shield, and the dwarves roared while raising their arms at Thorin's speech.
"WE SHALL RUN THEM TO THE GROUND," bellowed Thorin, "AND THE SPAWN OF AZOG WILL SLINK BACK INTO THE HOLE WHENCE THEY CAME! THIS LAND IS OURS!"
"All hail, Thorin Oakenshield!" Dwalin bellowed, and the dwarves echoed his cry with fierce pride and triumph, chanting to their leader while pounding their axes and swords to their iron shields. "Oakenshield! Oakenshield! Oakenshield!"
Oakenshield. Thorin didn't smile, but his heart lifted a little in spite of his grief. Frerin would laugh. Brother, watch over me.
Thorin Oakenshield then raised his sword, turned to where the army of orcs waited for them, and roared with all the might of King Under the Mountain: "DU BEKAR!"
And then they charged, into victory or death, it was yet to be known. During the fight, practically blinded by the blood and sweat in is eyes, Thorin was also determined to keep his promise to Frerin. Starting with one.
Vili...bring him home, nadad.
Thorin opened his eyes, greeting the sight of the stars like the pieces of his memories that continued to wreck his damaged soul, and let out a heavy breath. He hadn't realized that Balin's story had ended a while ago, and looked over to see his friend had already retired. In fact, the others had fallen asleep, as well.
The burglar was sleeping back in his bedroll, the snores of the dwarves no longer bothering through his exhaustion. Kyle Dainson had passed out on his own bedroll, which was spread out next to the fire, his breathing even. He lay on his back, one arm thrown carelessly over his head, which lay on his elbow, while the other spread out to the side.
The young human lad carried many of Frerin's traits: black hair, gray-blue eyes, a feisty attitude, though he was obviously a bit taller, skinnier in human structure, and lacked the black beard fashioned like a goatee with a braid at the chin. Thorin had always thought Kili was the one who reminded him of Frerin, which he did in many ways, except for his eyes, his stubble, and the fact that he had more of Dis' personality in him. Put Kyle and Kili together, the image of Frerin would be complete.
Kili. He found that his sister-son was also asleep, snoring softly on his back, his head also laying on a spread-out arm. Wrapped in his other arm lay Lori, who had her little head on his chest and her thumb stuck in her mouth. For once, she didn't have her that bear of hers, which she always carried around wherever she went. Her dark wavy hair was spread, framing her babylike face that shined golden from the fire's light. The two of them together was a precious sight, Thorin had to admit...and rather comical. Like seeing a child version of Kili-or Dis-laying on top of the larger version.
Thorin then remembered Frerin's words. Fight, my brother...Live for me...if not...then for the child...Please...promise me...It was not until later, after Kili was born, that Thorin had found out that his brother had not been talking about Fili, but about Kili. The little babe who had lost a great-grandfather, a grandfather, an uncle, and his own father the very night he was born. It was cruel timing...but when Thorin had held Kili in his arms for the first time, his sister being very ill after the birth and the death of her husband, it was in that moment that he let himself grieve for his dead family. Let himself heal a little with the newborn in his arms. Let himself...hope. He had found hope, in singularly the darkest time of his life. Even darker than when Erebor had been taken, because at least his family had survived.
Gazing down at the child, into those beautiful brown eyes that were inherited from his sister's husband, Thorin had thought he would never look or hold anything so tiny and precious his whole life. Not since Fili. He had regained his happiness, when he thought he could never find it again. Not after what had happened. Kili had been his salvation, from the moment he was born. Like a son. From that day forward, he had wanted more than anything to see this tiny, brown-eyed dwarfling grow up with his golden-haired older brother to become a fine warrior and Prince of Erebor.
That desire still held to this day. Fili was his rock, his strength, and his home, while Kili was his fire, his joy, and his heart. The lion and the wolf of Durin, different as the sun and the moon, but together they make one whole perfect being. Thorin prayed that nothing will attempt to separate these two, who closer to each other than even he and Frerin had been.
When his eyes moved to Fili, he froze at what he saw. Fili was still awake; he hadn't even noticed his uncle looking at him, but that wasn't the big concern. Maia Dainson was asleep, but she had her head laying on his nephew's shoulder, her breathing soft and even, her young face completely at peace beneath her long strands of brown hair.
She must have drifted off in the middle of Balin's story, and her head fell on Fili's shoulder. But that wasn't what made Thorin tense; it was that Fili didn't even bother pushing her off in any way, or keeping his distance. It was that his sister-son was looking down at her, smiling. That his heir was actually liking it.
Thorin was not amused. "Fili."
Fili's head snapped around at Thorin's hard voice. "Thorin," he said, eyes wide with surprise. "I-I thought you have gone to sleep, like the others."
"I was planning to," Thorin admitted, his narrowed eyes then landing on Maia.
Fili noticed this and his face turned a shade red. He gestured at Maia gently. "I didn't want to wake her," he said weakly, wincing inwardly at how he sounded, like he was trying to make a poor excuse out of something foolish he did.
"I see." Thorin knew it, and he didn't appreciate it. Fili should know better. He was a dwarf, and to have this human girl making any sort of physical contact with him was far too personal to be appropriate, especially for an heir to the throne. Lori was one thing, but Maia was another. "I'm going to sleep, and since you are the only one awake, you will take the next watch."
Fili nodded. "Yes, Uncle." It was the first time in a while that he called Thorin that.
"Hmph." Thorin eyed him, before standing up to find his own bedroll. "If you are going on watch, you will have to move Miss Dainson eventually. You cannot see the wilds from back there."
"Yes, Uncle. Good night." That definitely sounded like a dismissal, which made Thorin glare at Fili before retiring, not bothering to say good night. Thorin wondered if using the girl was Fili's way of getting back at him for snapping at Kili. If so, it was petty, Thorin thought.
Either that, or his nephew was actually...no, it couldn't be.
Thorin thought back on the few times he noticed Fili and Maia talking to each other. In the Green Dragon Inn, the leave of Hobbiton, and then earlier when both of his nephews were sitting with him, Dwalin, and Balin for lunch (a pale looking Kyle walking back to his sisters, having no doubt witnessed his first animal skinning), Fili had failed to listen to their conversation because he had been focused on something else. That something else had been Maia, who was sitting with Dori and Ori, drawing in that book of hers. Every time Fili looked at her...Thorin tensed up at the thought, feeling his fists clench, dread starting to grow from sudden realization and he cursed himself for not noticing before.
No, it was probably nothing. Nothing more than admiring the beauty of a human woman and perhaps enjoying her company, but it would fade. In another week it will fade. Fili would get his focus back, and Maia, whether she fancied his nephew or not, would learn to back away. It had to be just that. It couldn't be more than that. Not because that it was not possible for a dwarf to fall in love a female of Man (it might have happened before, very rarely), but because it wasn't possible for a son of Durin to fall in love with a human.
Finally, Thorin decided to wait a little longer before considering the situation, but one thing he knew for certain: whatever was happening between Maia Dainson and Fili, Thorin would make sure it did not grow.
With that thought in his mind, Thorin finally drifted off to sleep.
Minutes after Thorin went, Fili could still feel the heat of embarrassment on his face. He had honestly believed everyone to be asleep. Then again, he should have known that someone ought be taking the night watch, and that someone had to be Thorin, catching him in this position, of all people.
In the middle of Balin's story, he had felt the weight of someone's head land softly on his shoulder. He already knew it was Maia and that she had drifted off, not realizing she was using the Dwarf Prince's shoulder as a pillow. Not that Fili minded. He looked at her at the corner of his eye when he felt her and felt a smile play his lips, her head fitting perfectly where it lay on his furs.
When they all fell asleep, Balin had eyed at them both, his expression unreadable, before wishing Fili good night and then retiring. It was then that Fili turned his head slightly to face, while slowly dumping the ashes of his pipe, not wanting to wake her.
Her eye lashes were long and dark, which fluttered in awareness whenever she was awake. Few freckles were revealed on her soft nose in the light. Her long hair spread like a long, shimmery curtain around her face, the shadows of the fire's light tracing her beautiful features: her soft high cheekbones that always blushed a bright lovely pink and her full lips, red as rose petals. Fili was enthralled. His empty hand twitched; he wondered if her hair was as fine as it looked, her face as warm and soft as it felt. He imagined how he own lips would feel against hers, how sweet it would taste...
He felt his mouth go dry as these forbidden thoughts returned to him with full force, his body tingling intensely with heat that did not come from the fire. He had kept this thoughts and feeling buried within him for the entire week in their journey. He had felt it at Bag End, felt it when riding his pony, felt it when traveling across the Shire and now entering the lone lands. He held back, though he knew it was uncontrollable...this burning desire, this lust, these feelings, that threatened to consume him, especially with her here, to be so close but not for him to touch. It was torture. It was...
It was time for him to go on night watch. Fili took a deep breath and willed himself to calm his thoughts. Slowly, very slowly, trying hard not to disturb her sleep-he thought she looked beautiful when she slept, as much as she did when she was awake-he started to move slightly sideways, placing his hand in either side of shoulders to hold her upright-the waving ends of her hair draped through his fingers, soft and silky, compared to his own wiry hair...but then her head shifted slightly off his shoulder, causing her to shift and her draw some breath, her eyes fluttering open sleepily.
"Hm?" she hummed.
Cursing himself inwardly, he forced a smile when Maia's face tilted slightly up in confusion. "Hello," he said softly. "Sorry I disturbed your sleep."
When Maia met Fili's deep blue eyes, still blinking away the sleep and feeling the heat of the fire seep through her, she slowly became aware that something soft, warm, and furry brushed the side of her cheek...coming from Fili's furs, including some of his long hair.
She gasped and jerked upright like she had been stung, so fast it made her sway from her drowsiness. "Oh my...I'm...oh, God, I-I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, rubbing her eyes awake. Her cheeks glowed a bright pink with mortification. "I swear to God, I didn't mean to-oh, man, I can't believe I fell asleep and didn't even...of course this naturally happens to me...God, I'm so embarrassed and really sorry...it won't happen again-"
"I'm not," laughed Fili.
Maia stopped, surprised. "What?"
"I'm not sorry," he repeated, a little shyly. "You may be, but I'm not. To tell you the truth, um...you actually felt...warm. Comfortable. If anything, I feel terrible for waking you," he said truthfully. At same time, he was glad. Her constant awkwardness was amusing to watch, and cute (not that he would say that word aloud).
Maia stared at him, a little dumbfounded. "Oh," was all she said. Then she smiled shyly. "Guess all good things don't last, huh?"
You have no idea. Fili shrugged, trying to act indifferent, while he reluctantly began to stand up and brushed himself off, pleased to be aware Maia was watching him. "I'm next on night watch," he told her. "You best get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow and the woodlands are hard place to hike." He paused a while longer, looking at her, and then sighed heavily, "Good night, Maia."
He started to walk around the fire, each step away filling a cold, icy feeling in his limbs, when Maia suddenly spoke up, "Actually...um...Fili?"
"Yes?" Fili turned around quickly, heart quickening again when she said his name.
Maia hesitated, feeling extremely nervous. She had thought about what Lori said nights ago, and couldn't stop thinking about it afterwards...about Fili...whom she hung out with plenty of times, along with Kili, Kyle, Ori, Lori, and sometimes Bilbo, but it made her toes curl just thinking about the last time she was alone with him. She told herself many times not to think like this, that they had to focus on getting home, that Fili was a different race, that it was just her hormones talking and they would pass in a week. And yet...
"I was...I was wondering if I could join you?" Maia finally said. When Fili continued watching her, she continued, "I thought about it, and-and since Thorin invited us into the group, I thought...you know, maybe I could start being a little useful. Night watch sounds like an easy thing to start with, and I'd feel comfortable doing it with you. You know, for practice," she added quickly. She sounded even more pathetic than she ever did around Bryce, which made her feel worse.
"Aye-I mean, of course," Fili managed. Then he smiled, feeling warm again, and then returned, offering his hand. Maia took it and stood up, feeling the blood rush through her legs. She was still wearing her cowboy boots. When she slipped on her hooded jacket, she let Fili take her hand and lead her to the outskirts of the cliff, where the ponies rested.
"It will be easier to scout for any danger when having the whole view in sight," he explained to her.
"Makes sense," agreed Maia. "You're the expert."
The two were soon perched on the edge of the cliff, facing the great misty view of the woodlands, which to Maia looked more like an enchanted forest. She could see rocky mountains streaming with white waterfalls, river bends, great oak trees that were thicker than her own car at home, rocks large enough to be landscapes, leaves and pine thick and high from bellow, where the light of the sun would shine its beams down through their high canopies...it was the largest woods she had ever seen. She wondered if there were any countries from her own world that had woods like this one.
"It's really beautiful out here," she said, observing the view, sitting on a rock next to him. "We don't have forests like this back in Texas. Well, we do, but it's nowhere near as large."
"It is," agreed Fili, though he added, "though once you are down, Thorin says one cannot be too careful. There are still wild beasts down there, not to mention bloodthirsty orcs."
As if on cue, there came another inhuman screech in a distance that made them both stiffened, Fili grabbing the hilt of the knife from his belt in caution. When it died down, they looked at each other, wide-eyed...then burst out laughing. This time, Thorin wasn't there to snap at them. Speaking of which...
When they sobered up, Maia sighed. "I'm sorry, you know."
Fili looked her in confusion. "For what?"
"For everything that happened in Balin's story," Maia said softly, playing with her fingers. "Thorin was definitely upset, and I noticed how you and Kili looked. It all sounded awful, to lose your family like that, and to watch it happen." She shuddered when recalling the part about King Thror's beheading. It was a wonder Thorin was the way he was. "I couldn't even imagine..."
"Aye, it was," Fili said softly, pulling out one of his many knives and using a whetstone to sharpen it. "We were camped not far from Moria when the battle took place."
"You were there?" Maia was shocked. "Did-did you fight?"
Fili chuckled humorlessly. "No, thank Mahal...I was only a small child of five and Kili just a babe in our mother's womb." He was silent for a long time after that, the whetstone making a ringing noise from the blade. Finally, feeling Maia watch him, he said hoarsely, "My father fought in the battle of Azanulbizar."
Maia was quiet, feeling a sickening dread in her stomach, as she watched Fili stop sharpening his blade, close his eyes and take a shuddering breath. "I...I remember hearing them say my father and uncle had returned to camp by pony," he said, finding himself revealing to the girl next to him. "I remember seeing my mother's face pale while she had been tucking me in my bed, when Ari, her maid, my former nurse, and Gloin's wife (but not back then), had just said my father's name and my mother went storming outside. When I have managed to follow her, they wouldn't let me see my father, but my mother had gone into labor. With Kili."
"Whoa," she breathed. This story was already both intense and intriguing, but she focused on how Fili was feeling when telling this. Recalling bad memories...
"It was too early. It was in the middle of winter, food was scarce, sickness was spreading, and there was wounded to be tended. It was the worst time to give birth, and Mum had been so weak. She never told me, or anyone, but she had getting ill. I remember Thorin holding me, trying to comfort me, but I could see the devastation as clear as day. He told me Uncle Frerin was dead. I then kept asking him about Da, if he was hurt and if I could see him." He swallowed, and when he looked up to stare off in the distance, Maia could see his blue eyes glistening in the moonlight. "Nobody would let me see him. They wouldn't let me see Mum, either. I was either with Thorin, Ari, or Balin, when he returned from the battle, but I had never felt so alone before. I was frightened.
"I already knew I couldn't see Mum while she was birthing, so I focused on trying to get to my father. I knew he was in the healers' tent, where Oin usually attended, who was-and still is-one of the best. Late at night, I managed to sneak out of my tent while nobody noticed. I'd share the details with you, but..." He shrugged, and Maia smiled a little. She imagined a cute-looking mini Fili scampering around the camp by himself while surrounded by probably soldiers from war.
"I found the tent. There was no one inside…..Oin was still helping my mother in the King's tent and all the healers had gone to attend the wounded, so I slipped inside. My father..." He took another deep breath, sounding haunted. "I found my father lying there on the bedroll, on his back. H-He was trying so hard to breathe..." He voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I remember the water bowls being filled with blood, the white cloth stained red, and Da's armor lying in the far corner, the stench of war still clinging to the chain mail. It was the first time I ever knew what war smelled like."
"Fili..." Maia was horrified, but she didn't let it show as she listened.
"Da was stripped. He had a blanket covering his lower half, but I could see the hint of bandages appearing at the edge of his torso. It was black and red with blood. It was an infected wound." Fili sniffed, and turned to hide his face from Maia, his hair braided at the sides. "Mahal, I'm probably telling you too much...I shouldn't..."
"Go on," whispered Maia, gentle but determined to hear the end. "I'm alright." Tears were filling in her own eyes.
Fili was quiet for a moment, before he said quietly, "He...Da saw me and he was in so much pain...but he smiled. I remember him reaching out to me...like I was his only anchor to the world...I obeyed, not really feeling anything but shock...H-He was dying, but he was smiling," he whispered, while smiling a little at the memory. When his face turned a little, Maia's heart lurched when she saw tears glistening his cheeks. "H-He embraced me to him, touched my face, wiping my tears when I cried...I remember him trying to comfort me, saying he was being called to the Halls of Mandos, that he would miss me, that he loved me...he made me promise to be strong, to take care of my new sibling when he or she came, to always be...me.
"Thorin and Balin had come into the room to take me away after I said goodbye. I remember my father smiling, touching my face and calling me his little lionheart, like he always did when he thought I was brave, even when I wasn't. It was the last time I ever saw him...alive." Fili gave a shuddering sigh and looked further out into the view, trying and failing to be strong like Thorin. "I was later told that he died holding Kili, Mum lying next to him after the birth. My father was a honorable dwarf. He was only a miner from the Blue Mountains, but he had the heart of a kindly dwarf lord and had won the heart of Erebor's princess, my mum. In the end, he had fought death long enough just to see Kili."
Maia felt tears streaming down her cheeks. Lips pressed, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He relaxed slightly, but still didn't turn.
Then, unable to help herself (while thinking this was one of the craziest things she had ever done her entire life), her hand moved and touched his face, his mustache and beard brushing her palm. She felt her heart drum with intensity, her skin tingling from the contact.
His face was turned towards hers, eyes wide with tears as though in surprise. Maia thought about pulling her hand away and apologizing a third time tonight, but Fili then sighed and leaned into her palm, drawing the comfort she provided from that touch, closing his eyes. She felt his tears on her fingers, feeling his bristly beard and slightly roughened cheeks fit perfectly into the base of her small hand. Some loose hair strands stuck to his cheeks, and Maia brushed them away with her other hand, which somehow relaxed Fili even further.
She had no words to comfort him. She was really shocked that this calm, brave, and gentle-toned dwarf, who also looked deadly with his knives and in combat, had melted so easily with just the touch of her hand, but it pleased her anyway that it helped.
Listening to Balin and Fili tonight felt like listening to a veteran retelling his stories from war. Maia and Kyle had seen a couple visit at their schools, while Lori had seen one of her friends' daddy come to visit her preschool for Parent Career Day, his outfit a navy blue coat with badges, naming him a captain of the U.S. Navy.
But most of all, the three of them thought of their father, Arthur Dainson.
They barely knew anything about their father's background, except his life in New Zealand and how he met their Texan-American mother, Laura, who had still been in college, studying abroad and taking photos. Other than that, they knew nothing...but they all seen the scars and black scar-like tattoos on Arthur's back and along his neck. Every time they asked where he got them, he would always dismiss or make up an excuse to not have to tell before making a quick retreat. Sometimes he even had the hundred mile look whenever the topic was brought up, or he even got angry whenever he caught Kyle playing one of his violent video games before storming out of the room. They went to their mother for answers, but Laura just shrugged, though looking a little concerned, saying she tried the same thing when she had been dating their father, but there were some traumatizing things in a person's life that they would try hard to forget. So she had left it alone, and then she told them that they should, as well, just for the sake of their daddy's sanity.
Since then, before Lori had been born, Kyle and Maia had been secretly making up imaginary assumptions that their dad was an ex-soldier from an army, was perhaps a victim in the Soviet Union, Iraq, or somewhere, or maybe Arthur Dainson had a bad childhood background, probably a victim of drug gangs. That had been Kyle's guess, not Maia's, who always rolled her eyes back then.
But now...remembering the last time they had heard his voice over the phone, months after he had left them, most likely abducted since Kyle heard the attacker's breathing over the phone...Maia was starting to think that Kyle may be right. It was hard to be sure. There was no proof, but there had to be something that connected to their father's disappearance. Anything.
Still leaning into her hand, breathing so silently, Fili slowly opened his eyes and smiled at her. He touched her hand on his cheek, taking it, and then kissing the back of her hand like he did in Bag End, causing the butterflies in her stomach to wake once again. "Thank you," he whispered.
It meant so many things from what he said, but those words were enough.
His golden hair looked shiny under the moonlight and his eyes glittered like two sapphires, but with an ocean of emotion that made her smile back. Maia then let herself think in amazement, Wow, he...he looks beautiful.
Another tear escaped her unchecked; Fili blinked, his relief suddenly replaced with concern. After brief hesitation, he lifted his hand and gently touched her face. Delicately, at first, his fingers light as moths. His hand was practically the size of her face, calloused on the surface and sturdy, but it was heated and radiating comfort, his larger thumb wiping away her tears. It was trembling slightly, as if he were afraid of her reaction. She impulsively leaned into his touch, feeling a sigh escape her as all the tension from reality melted away into Fili's palm. Fili also relaxed, pleased at her acceptance.
I'm going to be awkward about this in the morning, she thought, but for now, she didn't care. This has to be one of the best feelings in the world, and she refused to let it go without savoring it first.
Then, after a long time of silence, Fili's hand stroking her face ever so gently, Maia found herself saying in resignation, "My dad left us almost two years ago."
Fili drew some breath, realizing that Maia was finally sharing with him, and said nothing as he listened.
Maia took a deep breath, calming herself. This couldn't compare to the sorrows in Fili's story, she knew, but she felt that she owed it to him for revealing much to her than he probably ever did with his companions. "One night, he was with us, acting normal, having dinner, a movie night, and he...visited each of us in our rooms, just to talk. I remember him putting Lori to sleep before coming into my room. He sat on my bed, while I was reading, listening to music...he tried to hide it, but I could tell he was upset. I didn't know what it was, that maybe it was from work, or that Kyle got a black eye from kids at his school that day, or maybe he had an argument with my mom...anyway, we just started talking, about me starting to look for colleges and about..." She stopped, biting her tongue, almost mentioning Bryce, who was her boyfriend back then, whom her dad also resented, and someone she did not plan on mentioning to Fili anytime soon, so she moved on, "About what I wanted to do for the future. I knew I wanted to travel, but...I didn't really know what to do with my life. He just told me he was proud of me and to try not to grow up too quickly. He said good night after that." Maia stared the hands, folded in her lap. "Then the next morning...he was gone. He never came back. Lori wasn't even four years old yet.
"It been around seven months. He called once or twice during that time...on a phone, which is like this little machine that you can use to communicate with someone," she explained to Fili, who looked confused. "You can talk to people from faraway distances, instead of just sending letters or messages. It's something from my world. Anyway, it's been a while since Dad called again, and we were starting to think that he really did abandon us. It wasn't until...we told what a car was, right?"
"You did," Fili said slowly, remembering him and Kili listening to the Dainsons describe their pickup truck back in their world when they were traveling through the Old Forest. "You drive it, instead of horses."
"Right," Maia nodded, before swallowing. "My mom...she got herself in a terrible car accident. It turned out that she had been on the phone with Dad, probably meeting him somewhere...I don't know, but he had heard the accident over the phone and went straight to Mom. I don't know the details about what happened, but dad had rushed her to the hospital. The doctors-the healers managed to save her, but she was already so damaged that she had to be put into a coma. The hospital called my grandparents, and then Grandma called me." Her voice cracked, remembering the horror she felt that day when she heard her mom had almost died in a car accident. Even worse when the family arrived in Houston Hospital, seeing the bandaged, unconscious state their mom was in; Lori and Kyle both cried, along with Maia, who felt numb and tears running down her cheeks as she just stared at the half-dead form of their mother, repeating over and over, 'What happened?'
"We arrived at the hospital and saw Mom...but Dad wasn't there," she whispered, hurt piercing her chest like millions of thorns. Her voice was bitter. "He was the one who brought her in, probably saved her life, and he didn't even stick around to see us, to comfort us, to try explaining himself! It was like he didn't even care anymore!
"Two weeks later, we already moved in with our grandparents and mom was still in the hospital. One night, we were having a movie night-I'll explain that later-and Lori was the one who called Dad, half past nine. Fours years old and that kid already knew how to dial," Maia snorted a little. "After she talked to Dad, she sort of begged me to not be mad at him-which had been a little hard at the time-and asked me if I could talk to him."
"Did you?" Fili said softly, and Maia nodded, biting her lip.
"He asked me how I was," she said plainly. "He told me what he told Lori, that he was going to try his best to come home. I didn't believe him. I thought at first that he was probably seeing another woman, but he wasn't. He said it was complicated. After that, I heard noises, coming from his end. I knew he was at our old farm house. I told him I was gonna drive over to see him, but he just screamed at me to stay where I was, as if my life depended on it. I heard him being attacked over the phone."
"What attacked him?" Fili said quietly, frowning as he listened.
Maia shook her head, trembling. "I don't know," she said, sadly. "Even when the police investigated the house, they couldn't identify the attacker. My father was definitely abducted, though. Kyle heard the kidnapper breathing over the phone. We later found the phone crushed in the farm house, which explained why we were cut off, and there was black muck all over the crime scene. They also found Dad's blood, and there was a lot of it." Maia still felt sick when she thought about it, and still couldn't quite believe that all the black muck had been blood.
"We still haven't found him and Mom's still in a coma. It's been nine months now."
Nine months? Fili stared at Maia. "I-Maia, I'm sorry," he said, taking her hands in both of his. "I'm sorry about your mother...and your father." He could tell that she thinks that her own troubles were nothing compared to his...she was wrong. His own traumatic experience had been from many years ago, when he five years old-Lori's age-but Maia's were still happening, adding to the fact that she, Kyle, and Lori were walking in an unfamiliar world.
Truthfully, after what he heard about Maia's father, he wished that he could be able to track him down and beat the liver out of him. He could not imagine any parent, mother or father, leaving their children without good reason. Even Uncle Thorin one time in his life claimed that he would rather die a thousand times than leave Fili and Kili.
Maia shrugged. "She's alive," she said, half-heartedly. "We're not giving up on her. She might still wake up back in Texas, while we're all the way over here. But Dad..." She shook her head sadly. "I'm not sure. We don't even know what happened to him. He could be buried in a ditch somewhere, for all we know." Her eyes filled up with tears again. "I feel like I'm not sure of anything anymore. I don't even know why he left us. He and Mom loved each other, and he loved all three of us. He never said so, but...I just thought...It still doesn't make any sense." She laughed bitterly. "I want to hate him, tell it to his face and scream at him, but I don't. I can't hate him...not like Kyle. It's like some part of me keeps hoping, even though I know it's useless, but...It's so unfair."
"Kyle hates his father," stated Fili quietly, though not without concern.
"Well, he definitely acts like it," admitted Maia, glancing briefly back where Kyle was sleeping. "Kyle doesn't want anything to do with him. Even after the kidnapping. He's stubborn like that. Whenever my father did call, Kyle even refused to speak to him, and instead kept sending bad messages to him through us. Not that we ever did, anyway," she added. "He and Dad used to be close.
"Lori, on the other hand, is probably the only one of us who keeps hoping he'll come back," she continued, not helping a small smile, and then shrugged. "She's got it into her head that he was being captured by 'evil minions,' which is mostly what she calls his bosses at work, and that he was trying to fight his way back home. Now that he's missing, she even more convinced, and is still hoping that one day, her daddy will one day magically appear." Fili sniggered a little, and Maia hit his arm. "Don't laugh. Lori's a little kid. I used to think like she does. Sort of. It's all she has to stay hopeful, and me and Kyle were not about to take it away from her. She adores Dad."
"Even after leaving her?"
Fili's tone was blunt, and Maia could help but admire him for his protectiveness. She gave him a crooked smile. "Lori is a sweet, lovable kid by nature. It's who she is, even when it can get obnoxious sometimes. Hell, when she listens to stories about heroes and villains, you should listen to her pitying the villains. Sometimes, not always." She remembered Balin telling them about Azog the Defiler, and she could not even imagine anyone pitying a monster like that.
"That definitely sounds what Kili was like," smiled Fili. "Even now, he still acts like it sometimes." Maia nodded and Fili gripped her hands tighter. "Maia," he said, the name on his tongue bringing a sense a warmth through him, "I understand that you may not be sure of one thing, but I will not allow you believe that you cannot be sure of everything. You are a smart lass and you have a heart of gold. And you are brave to be coming along on this quest with us, even if it's for your own reasons."
"But I'm not even sure if I'm right about this one either," protested Maia. "I don't have any real proof about there being a portal at the Mountain, just something based off visions we kept seeing since we got here!"
"It matters not. You are taking a big risk, just for the hope of finding a way. Right or wrong, you will keep finding a way." Fili looked down, his expression suddenly unreadable, and then gently pulled his hands away from hers. "Even...even when most of us will be sad to see you three go," he murmured.
"Yeah," Maia said quietly. There was a long stretched silence between them. Maia studied the beads in Fili's braids, including the silver clasp that pulled his hair back. "Hey, I never asked. I think I have a pretty good idea why you guys have braids, but what's with the beads? Do they have any meaning?"
Fili hesitated. The dwarfish part of his mind kept warning him, after a lifetime of lessons and growing up among his own race (including his uncle's lectures), that much of Dwarven culture was private. One of the most secretive of all was their language, Khuzul. They were extremely resilient when it came to their language. Not only was it all personal, it was against the law for any dwarf to share their language with that of another race. And it was not the only thing the law contained...but Fili pushed that knowledge forcible out his mind.
The personal part of him really wanted to share with her. Normally, like every proud dwarf, he kept caution around the race of Men, but Maia...Maia obviously had this effect that made him want to share his deepest and most forbidding secrets with her, in a way that he never had before. Secrets he would share only with Kili...and then not, because she was different. She was warm, kind, shy but strong, and openminded. She was not his brother, she was his friend.
No, friend was too meek a word to describe her in his mind. Whom she was beyond good description. She was...
Could she be my One?
"I will be happy to tell a little about representations of our braiding," said Fili, warmly, while trying to ignore the realization in his mind that pained him as well as delighted him beyond imagining. He pointed at her booted feet. "If you would tell me why you have such strange looking boots!"
Maia opened her mouth in fake surprise, and then gave him a big, quirky smile. She crossed her slender legs seductively and leaned back a little. "Got an eye for style, Master Fili?" She repeated what Gandalf called him, but her Texan accent made it sound slang.
Fili raised an eyebrow, matching her playful tone while smiling at her like a scoundrel. He flicked his knife in her direction at eye level. "What do you take my braids for, Miss Dainson? For sale or for trade?"
The knife pointed at her wasn't threatening. In a sense. Her body felt a thrill as she imagined what the knife represented. "Are you flirting with me, blonde?" she teased.
Fili tilted his head to her, not wavering. He looked as he did when facing Dwalin in combat, except for the playful twinkle in his eyes. "Is it wrong of me to express my intrigue around a beautiful woman?"
Her heart missed a beat. The word echoed in her mind, as if it were a confession she could not yet comprehend. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Of course." His voice was soft, sounding suddenly shy. Every part of his look expressed truth in his words. "Who wouldn't?"
Maia felt her eyes tear up again as she smiled, her skin tingling and toes curling within her boots. Boots. Right. She blinked and then her smile became quirky again, flicking her pointed-toed boots in the dwarf's direction.
"Well, since I can stand your charms no longer, I can tell you more than just about these bad-gals," she said, wriggling her eyebrows, "and then you can tell me more about yours. Deal?"
Fili nodded. He liked the sound of that. And if he revealed too much, nobody was looking, right?
They were up all night, talking until the sun rose over the woodlands. It was a beautiful ending to their long, cultural conversation.
When Fili watched Maia walk back to camp, her glancing back at him with that warm smile and those shimmery gray-blue eyes, he felt happy.
But he also felt sorrow. Such a sorrow that weighed in his heart, heavier than stones and more piercing than every blade he felt in the past.
He knew she would leave him and the others, once they reached their journey's end. He knew that all good things never last. He knew that Thorin would frown upon their closeness whenever his mind was not focused on reaching the mountain.
"Come on, Fee," Kili called out, as the dwarves started gathering their supplies. "I'm not packing your things, if that's what you're hoping!" Thorin glanced in his direction, before turning away. Maia was helping Kyle and Lori roll up their bedrolls, her carmel hair glowing golden from the sun's morning light.
Whether these feeling were shared or not, or what others thought of him because of it, his feeling were unchanged and irrevocable.
Fili knew now, without a doubt in his mind, that he was in love with Maia Dainson.
Black Speech translation:
*DIE!
There you go. I decided these two should start revealing bit and pieces of their feeling to each other, though they still not completely sure how one feels about towards the other. They are two young people are close friends, but are still trying to figure each other out. It's cute, right? And completely obvious, but they are both scared of going down that road, since Maia is leaving and Fili is the future Prince of Erebor.
I wanted to show that it is forbidden for a dwarf to marry someone outside of their race, especially when that dwarf is royalty (unless it helped form an alliance). Fili's is breaking from every princely and dwarfish lesson he has been taught his whole life just for falling for Maia, a human girl who was not royal in any way and who was going to leave him anyway. Poor Fili.
Food for thought: What if dwarves hardly ever marry not only because they love their craft or can never find their One, or because they prefer remaining single, but because their One turned out be from a different race and they couldn't be together?
Oh, and hey, how did you like the four stories (including Thorin's long flashback)? You might have already read it, but it felt fitting to add it into this chapter, since Thorin's POV was added. He can be strict on Kili sometimes because he's protective, and Kyle reminds him of Frerin. Thorin is definitely not liking what he is seeing between Fili and Maia. You'll be seeing more of that in the future:)
For those of you who are doing Ash Wednesday, good luck! Review soon:)