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*Promise me
"Mr. Bilbo, wake up." It was the quiet voice of Ori that awoke the Hobbit from his heavy slumber.
He coughed and tried to figure out his surroundings. It took him only a couple of moments to remember where he was. "Thorin?" Was his first question.
"He's been in and out of consciousness for the last hour. He kept calling for Fili. Can you take over? I cannot keep my eyes open/" the young Dwarf looked beyond exhausted, almost broken.
"Sure, take my place. It's warm here." Bilbo got up and stretched before he walked quietly and stood next to Balin.
The old Dwarf didn't remove his eyes from the drops of sweat that adorned Thorin's forehead.
"Is he sweating?" Bilbo's lips broke into a hesitant smile while his heart attempted to feel hope that maybe not all was lost yet.
"He's been alternating between cold and warm all night long, but he is very delirious."Balin looked up dejected.
"He's trying to fight it off." Bilbo whispered.
Balin shook his head. "Yes" -Then his lips turned down and he reached out to touch Thorin's warm hand softly- "You cannot expect anything less out of him. He was always a fighter."
Bilbo looked out the window and saw the first streaks of dawn breaking through the heavy clouds. "Shall I bring you something to eat?" He asked observing how exhausted the older Dwarf looked.
"No appetite." Balin's voice was barely heard.
"How is Fili?"
"He's doing extraordinarily well. Woke up during the night and wanted to see Thorin. We didn't allow him to get up." He then turned to Oin who was messing about his cauldron. "Want to check on his wound?"
"Sure…" Oin said and approached Thorin. He looked at his sleeping troubled face and after a few moments cringed. "I lied."
Balin looked at him.
Oin frowned. "This is one job I took over that I don't want to check on it's progress..." he muttered.
Balin closed his eyes and got ready to speak, but Oin continued.
"Nevertheless, I will..." he rejoined with precise and gentle moves he opened up Thorin's tourniquet only to see an highly inflamed wound. He pressed his fingers around the skin and saw white traces.
Balin covered his mouth and all the blood drained from his tear etched face. "It doesn't look good."
Oin shook his head and gazed heavily at the old advisor. "It's not…"
It took Balin several moments to come to a decision, but when he looked up his eyes were set. "Bilbo can you go and check on Fili? If he is able to get up, bring him over. They need to talk to each other, for I fear greatly..." Balin's eyes were draped by a shadow of dread.
"You fear Thorin is not going to make it, right?" Bilbo pulled back feeling that terrified certainty overtaking his logic.
Balin's lips turned down. "No I fear time...bring Fili over, because I don't think we have anymore time."
The words fell heavy in the room and covered it with cold silence. Surprisingly though, as Thorin's face was a pale mask of death and his body was unable to move, behind his fluttering eyelids, inside his mind there was a bloody menagerie of ancient times taking place.
The books don't remember history as well as my mind does. People don't know what happened to the Arkenstone that fateful day. They suppose that Thror threw it at the vaults in order to hide it from Smaug the Great. Others believe he lost his footing and the Arkenstone flew off his hand and got buried deep into the never ending treasure vaults, becoming inevitably lost. Some spread a sort of mystical touch to the whole story and try to convince others that the Arkenstone felt Thror's gold sickness and the corruption of his ring of power and tried to hide from him. My father thinks that Thror may have lost it on purpose in order not to pass it down to him. Everyone thinks they've got the right theory, but they have all got it wrong. That day it was not Thror who lost the Arkenstone, but me….and that has fallen heavy on my conscience for hundreds of years.
"What did you say?" Thror looked up hazed.
"It's a Dragon!" Thorin's heavy timbre echoed in the throne room.
"So what? Those beasts have been sniffing around our gold for years. Kill the damn thing!" Thror dismissed him and started pacing in front of his throne.
Thorin walked up to him and took hold of his shoulder needing to shake him to reason. "I don't think you understand. This isn't some ordinary dragon grandfather. This is Smaug and he is standing at our front doors with nasty deliberations! We need to get out of here, now!"
"Did I give any orders for evacuation boy?" Thror looked up haughtily.
"No, but you need to order it now! The soldiers won't be able to hold that damned beast back. The gates will collapse soon…" Thorin tried.
"Did your father give such orders perchance?" Thror continued unfazed.
Thorin's eyes blazed under his fine arched eyebrows. "Thrain is trying to organise the defence and I have to join him! Instead I am here trying to reason with you about the inevitable!"
"Then do so and get off my back!" Thror shooed him away.
"I will go as soon as Frerin gets you, Dis and mother out of the Eastern gates!" Thorin growled. He grabbed his grandfather's arm and pulled him towards the bridge.
Thror broke free with surprising ease and ran back to his throne, which he embraced almost possessively. "I am not leaving my treasure boy. You and Frerin take your mother and sister and go."
"No! Now is not the proper time to become obsessed again, listen to the explosions outside. This place won't last another moment. We have already lost to Smaug. He will enter and he will take over your treasure. At least we can save the people of this city if not it's bloody columns! Now come on!" Thorin cried and pointed behind him where the very bowels of the mountain were echoing with Smaug's tries to tear open the fortified gates.
"Go down to your father and command our army as you are supposed to, that's an order!" Thror said and out of the blue stepped on his throne and tried to throw open the locks that kept the Arkenstone in place.
"Father send me up to get you, because he knew this was going to happen. Enough, you are coming with me!" Thorin said decisively and grabbed his grandfather by the waist just as the locks broke open and Smaug's tail brought down the large circular windows at the back of the room scattering broken glass everywhere. They both fell back and rolled on the floor. Thorin got almost emptied over the bridge to the passages below. He pulled himself up with an angry groan and saw his grandfather crawling through the debris to get the Arkenstone. "No, you won't" he cursed and fell on top of his grandfather.
Thorin's superior built and strength combined with his youth were enough to pin down his ferocious grandfather who tried to crawl right from under him in order to grab the Arkenstone that was a few inches away from his face. "Leave it! I said LEAVE IT!" Thorin's hand grabbed Thror's and they entangled in a violent struggle. One trying to grab the Arkenstone and the other to drag him away. That is how his sister, his brother and his mother found them and it was Dis' shocked voice that made them stop and look up.
"What the hell are you doing to grandpa?" She asked with a mouth slightly ajar.
"What the HELL ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?!" He snarled at them and then pinned down the other hand of Thror who cried in despair when he felt that he couldn't outmatch his massive grandson.
"Get him off my back!" Thror yelled, but was unable to move.
Dis took a few steps closer. "What are you doing Thorin?! You are hurting him!"
The grounds shook under them and his mother screamed and embraced Frerin.
"Get out of here before the mountain buries us!" He cried and gritted his teeth from the effort of immobilising Thror.
"This place is going to collapse. The gates are about to give in! We need to get him to come with us!" Frerin cried and pointed at their ferocious and rather furious grandfather, who was clearly not going to join his family quietly at that moment.
"Get mother and Dis out of the Eastern exits, they should be safe. Strike the bells thrice before that beast breaks in and brings them down once and for all! The deep halls and the mines have no idea what's going on up here! Tell everyone to evacuate!" Thorin gritted his teeth as Thror managed to break one arm free with animalistic ferocity and dragged himself along with Thorin slowly to the Arkenstone.
Frerin nodded and made to leave, but Thror's voice stopped him. "No, no one leaves the gold! We must save it! Save everything! Give me my Arkenstone!"
Dis felt her eyes overflowing with tears. "Mom what's wrong with grandad?"
"Don't look at him girl! Frerin take her away and run. I will be right behind you!" Thorin's mother looked at her oldest son with apprehension, but she knew. She knew very well what was going on. Frerin and Dis on the other hand, seemed totally bewildered.
Thorin's monumental voice took command, outmatching his grandfather's authority with an ease he didn't think he possessed until then. "What are you standing there brother?! Evacuate NOW, that's an order!"
"Son please help him…" his mother's beautiful eyes filled with tears.
Thorin felt Thror's continuous struggle pay off as he slipped from under him and shuffled like a crouching tiger quickly to the accursed Gem. "Frerin get them out of here now. They weren't supposed to see any of this. OUT!"
Dis turned and hid her face on Frerin's shoulder as he led them quickly out of the throne room just as one of the statues got its head detached when the mountain shook under Smaug's ferocious attack. Large boulders crashed on the floors beneath destroying several passages and sending the retreating Dwarves scattering left and right. Thorin looked up at the dome of the mountain and saw cracks and fissures appearing everywhere. At the columns around them, at the bridge and above the throne, just were the Arkenstone used to be.
"My precious, I'll never let you go again." Thror kissed the stone tenderly, completely oblivious that the place was going to bury them alive along with all his gold.
"We have to leave grandfather!" Thorin cried and Thror looked at him with hatred.
"You will not take it away from me, you hear?" And with surprising agility he stood up and ran down the corridor that led straight to the treasure vaults.
Thorin made to follow him, but another deep rumble released several rocks from the roof that landed on him. He fell to the floor only for a moment, but that small interval was enough to make him lose sight of Thror. When he stood up his grandfather was nowhere to be seen.
"Sir, the gates are about to give what should we do?" Two royal guards came rushing in from the right corridor that led to the entrance.
Thorin inhaled deeply and his fists clenched. "Follow me," he said and dashed after Thror, hearing their heavy boots and armour clanking behind him. He didn't want anyone to witness the sickness of his grandfather. Their family's darkest secret that Thrain and apparently his mother have been keeping from the world was not supposed to come out in this degrading manner, but he didn't have a choice. He needed help. Thror's obsession had become so serious, that he didn't even recognise what was truly important during this new perilous threat that overwhelmed Erebor. His family meant nothing to him in front of his beloved treasure and the Arkenstone. No one could reason with him and that was obvious. Thorin fled down the stairs like a madman in pursuit and nothing managed to stop him more violently than what he saw when he turned around the final archway.
Thror was standing there on a landing that was overlooking part of the immense treasure vaults. He was holding the King's Gem next to his lips…kissing it…his eyes were blissful and his lips curled up in the sweetest smile Thorin had ever seen from him.
Thorin's chest welled as he addressed the guards behind him. "What you see from now on remains with you till your final days."
Silence behind him.
Then his eyes were on them, fixed and vacant, promising that his threat should not be taken lightly. They looked at each other warily and bowed to the ground. Thorin turned to his grandfather and felt his throat tightening painfully. The forgiveness he asked was silent and was towards Durin himself, not his grandfather.
Then Thror got suddenly bulldozed to the wall with a barbarity that was truly unexpected and difficult to fight against. His head crashed to the stones and broke open and his shoulder got dislocated. The Arkenstone fell from his hand and next to Thorin's boot. He turned to the guards "Get him out of here now! To the eastern gates!"
They didn't hesitate. They lifted up a dazed Thror that didn't know where he was anymore and dragged him up the stairs leaving Thorin alone to look at the sparkling Gem that was touching the side of his boot. His jawline tensed and he felt ripples of hatred passing through his spine. Then he took the Arkenstone in his hand and threw it with such strength that he didn't even see where it landed. He just heard the clanking sound and saw several golden hills rolling downwards as they began to migrate from his rude intervention. His heart rejoiced at that moment, hoping that they would bury it for life, not knowing that hundreds of years later he would pay a burglar to do the best he could in order to find it again inside this chaos. Without giving the vaults a second look, he took another staircase up and rushed to stand next to his father by the gates.
That was the end of the Arkenstone. The end of the great city of Erebor. The end of the prosperous days of Durin's folk for many years to come. The end of Dale. The end of the biggest Dwarven stronghold in Middle Earth. That was the end of his life as a Prince, a commander and the heir to the throne of Erebor. It was the beginning of his life as a pauper, a paid blacksmith, a paid soldier, a builder...
That day were he took command of the evacuation of Erebor, the loss of the Arkenstone and the saving of his grandfather he became unwillingly a most precious point of singularity around which his family would gather in order to keep it's threads from falling apart during the following desolate years.
He remembered running outside the broken gates when Smaug moved indifferent to them inside the city and settled in the treasury. The image of Thranduil on his elk looking down at them majestically was so vivid there inside his dreams that his body tightened and his head moved slowly in objection. He heard himself asking for help. No he begged them for help as he was surrounded by wounded women, children and elders that stumbled out of the crumbling walls covered in blood and dust. He felt his vocal chords tearing apart as he called for them, only to see the great Elven King turning his back at them. He felt the tears burning hot in his eyes at that moment...
-.-
What he didn't know was that those tears were also running down his cheeks there in the midst of his comrades, as his body was being riddled with fever. Reality and dreams were clashing against each other, neither of them winning Thorin to its side. One moment he was back at Dale with his siblings happy and blithe and the next he was next to Balin's dark shadow, for his eyes couldn't see anything else, but dark outlines. One moment he felt strong and young again, able to fight off the greatest enemies of his Kingdom and the next he felt his body heavy and useless. Burning hot and freezing cold at the same time while the right side of his torso was totally mangled and vibrating with a throbbing pain that was able to tear his mind out of his head. One moment he could feel Dis wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace as he gave her a new kite and the next his beautiful dream was chased away by probing hands that were causing him excruciating pain and fed him with liquids that he fought against throwing up. One moment he felt his body drenched in sweat, the next his teeth were chattering as he was unable to control the shaking of his frozen hands. He didn't think that these games between reality and dreams was him sleeping...he was simply fading away from them. Fainting and then coming to...constantly.
The need to see Fili was always predominant when he had those rare moments of relative clarity and he managed to voice it. The voices answered him that the boy was well and resting. Well and resting…yes, he was well and resting and those words were enough to make him want to try and fight this hell. The knowledge that his boy was somewhere alive and resting comforted him in ways he didn't think possible inside a body that was one step from death. He felt the hotness of his tears streaking down his cheeks and getting trapped at the hairpins of his lips. He wanted to lick them away, but his body refused to do even that. Instead he heard Balin's voice next to his ear and he shuddered hard in response. "What is it laddie? Can you speak?"
"Nightmares again." The stern voice of Dwalin spoke from the other side. He wanted to turn his head and look at his childhood friend, but he couldn't. He wanted to tell them that he didn't have only nightmares, but also beautiful dreams...but he was unable to. Finally he gave up on the try to communicate as it was hopeless and silence fell on him like a warm blanket on an already burning body.
Then he slowly began sliding down a long dark corridor, feeling the walls closing in on him...he was fading away from them...once more.
He didn't know how long he remained under, but when he came to, there were more voice around him, stronger and more definitive. Then the air slightly moved around him and he picked up the scent in the blink of an eye. He knew that scent ever since he held that boy for the first time in his arms when he was born and his heart rejoiced, but he was unable to share his happiness. The only thing he managed was to open his lips with great difficulty and whisper a defeated "Fili?"
Then a strong hand covered his with so much unspoken love that fresh tears sprang from his eyes. He physically forced himself to crack open his eyelids slightly and the first thing he recognised was the royal blue sky of the bed he lay on. Was this Thror's old bedroom? He remembered the geometric golden patterns on it from when he was sleeping there as a child sometimes next to his grandfather.
"Uncle?" The beloved voice sounded broken next to his ear and he felt his heart skirting weakly.
He tried to lift his hand to caress his boy's face, to make sure that he was alive, but he couldn't. He frowned and his lips trembled. "No, don't cry…", he begged.
The hand tightened possessively around his, keeping him grounded, making him understand how much he was loved. "Uncle, I am here. I am here…" the voice repeated and soft fingers wiped away his tears with a gentleness that shocked him.
His fingers traced feebly around until he was able to cup Fili's hand and his head turned to look at him, but there were only blurry shadows and fuzzy outlines. How he wished to touch those outline though, but they lay too far off his reach. "You have to bury your brother my son..." He whispered feeling out of breath already and his tongue licked his dry lips. Another hand cupped his and he felt strength in that grasp. So much strength that his lips upturned in a ghostly smile.
"I am not doing it alone uncle, no!" Fili's voice was shaking from emotions untold, but Thorin felt them by the way his nephew was clutching his hand.
Thorin swallowed painfully and gasped for air. "You need to take care of your brother" -he repeated and looked at the blue sky above him which resembled the clear skies of the prettiest springtime, "your wound…"
Fili's cheek then was pressing against his and he felt his beloved nephew's sobs digging holes to his heart. "I am well, don't worry." Fili's hands tightened around his and his temple rubbed against his hot brow.
Thorin nodded and swallowed again with great difficulty. It was becoming harder and harder to move, hear or see. He needed to speak to Fili, he needed to tell the boy to take back... "The Arkenstone…" the word came out in an exhalation.
The silence in the room exploded shivers all over his fever riddled body.
"Thranduil has it." Fili's voice vibrated through him.
Thorin nodded and gasped for more air. "You need to take it back."
Fili gritted his teeth. "Leave that accursed gem away from Erebor uncle. Our fall will be for it."
Thorin shook his head slightly and his hand crawled painfully slow out of the covers in search of Fili's face. His boy felt his need and lowered his head to meet Thorin's hand. His fingers traced around his temple and down his cheek and a small smile appeared on his lips. "Negotiate for the Arkenstone son. The seven clans will not unite under you without it…please do it for me."
Fili's hot tears stained Thorin's fingers. "Heal and do it yourself uncle! I will not do your job for you!" His need to sound angry made Thorin's heart break apart.
"Listen to me son. Quiet the anger in you. Take the Arkenstone back and rule this kingdom wisely." His dry lips broke into a sweet smile as his eyes tried to trace Fili's blonde haired outline.
"Uncle no!...please no..." Fili's nose flared and he butted his forehead on Thorin's chest not knowing what he was begging for.
Thorin's hand climbed up the adored head and caressed his hair gently. "Tell your mother how much I loved her."
Fili gritted his teeth and looked up sharply. "You tell her yourself, do you hear me?!"
Thorin drew in a ragged breath and looked up to the sky of the bed again.
"Breathe steady…" Balin's caring voice told him.
"Thorin, Fili doesn't have anything to negotiate with." The voice of Dwalin pulled him back from the black long corridor that was calling him over.
Thorin's shallow breath exhaled. "Gems of Lasgalen." The sharps inhalations around him, were barely heard.
"Your grandfather Thror wouldn't have given up those Gems. Remember?" Dwalin strong voice brought him back from the dreamlike state he was drifting in.
"Thror was mistaken" -Thorin muttered and then forced his eyes open again to see the blurred outline of his nephew- "Trade the White Gems with the Arkenstone son and take your rightful place upon that throne. May your rulership be wiser than mine."
"I will not! I will fight death himself in order to bring you back, do you hear me?!…" Fili's fury spilled out of his every seam.
Thorin's brow darkened and he cupped Fili's cheek trying to look into his eyes. "Promise me that you will."
He only felt Fili's silent tears, but no words of reassurance.
"Promise me!" He pleaded.
"Son do it please." Balin gazed beseechingly at Fili.
Fili embraced Thorin with his whole body and nodded. "I promise I will uncle, I promise!"
Thorin exhaled and his shoulders relaxed. "I love you…" he muttered and then got ready to slide down that dark tunnel slowly the moment he seized all his tries to stay there with his nephew. He was truly surprised when it engulfed him with terrifying totality.
Fili looked up terrified, his tearstained eyes too blurry to see if he was was still breathing. "Uncle?! Uncle!" he grabbed Thorin's tunic and jerked him hard.
It was Balin's heavy voice that made Fili rest his head on Thorin's chest in relief. "Steady son, he's just fainted again. Let him rest..."
Eilin nudged her pony until it aligned with Princess Dis'. She took out her fur coat from the bag and showed it silently to her.
Dis shook her head. "No, thank you."
"You are going to catch your death." Eilin whispered. She didn't want anyone to hear her voice as she was not in a hurry to draw any attention upon herself during this journey or otherwise. During the time she has lived amongst Dwarves she was shunned about her heritage, kicked away for her weird looks and her hairless face. When she was living amongst common people, she was always targeted for her small size, so she knew how to keep her head low and out of trouble. When a Princess of the crown, the sister of the King himself chose her, against all odds to accompany her back to Erebor, Eilin was more scared than happy. Back in the old days when she was not employed under such a powerful figure of authority she was getting physically abused all the time. She was being punched, kicked, pushed, whipped and to her ultimate shame and devastation also raped. Not by Dwarves of course, since their impeccable sense of propriety didn't allow them to act like filths, but by common men. Inside the dark and sleazy taverns she used to work, it had been expected that one day she would end up being cornered in a dark room and experience her one and only take on men through all that violence and hate.
After that she stopped speaking, she drew back in on herself for comfort and tried not to draw anyone's attention. She tried to become invisible and she partly managed it. When the company of vagabond Dwarves that took her in reached the Iron Hills she begged master Dain for a job and surprisingly she was placed at the stables to care for the animals. She survived and lasted long in that noble service, by keeping her head low and working like a dog. As a result no one really ever bothered her, if you excluded a couple of Dwarrowdams that found a good laughing subject out of her hairless face, which she didn't mind considering that she had been through far worse hell the previous years of her short life.
When Princess Dis arrived in the Hills and enchanted everyone to her bidding, Eilin was immediately drawn to her beauty and silent haughtiness, but above all to her kindness. She had a couple of opportunities to serve her dinner or breakfast in her rooms and that is how Dis got to know her. She was drawn to her taciturn and prudent personality and soon enough she was asking for the strange girl with the tattered clothing to service her more and more often. Still it was a huge surprise to Eilin when Dis chose her as a maid and took her on this journey to Erebor.
Eilin had never hoped, not even in her wildest dreams to see the Lonely Mountain up close. She had heard the stories of the mighty Kings and the fierce battles they partook, sang from the bards. Hell, she has even drawn those Kings herself using the words of her best friend and her own imagination as tools. She had listened mesmerised to the songs that spoke about Smaug the Great and how he drove off Durin's folk from the great city of Erebor. She had created small works of arts out of those songs and had even sang them herself secretly during those long sleepless nights were she washed the clothes of so many Dwarrowdams. Now the Great Maker for some unknown reason had deemed her worthy enough to ride towards the golden city to see with her own eyes all that she'd been dreaming off for years. Yet, her unexpected journey to the Lonely Mountain was tainted by the anguish of a mother who had lost her son and a sister who was about to lose her brother, one of the Kings that Eilin have only dreamt of ever meeting. No matter how bad she wanted to see the tales of old coming to life, her mind right was concentrated solely on the Princess.
She wanted to offer words of comfort, but she didn't know how to do it. Her job was to silently serve and protect. When she followed the Princess on this trip, she swore that she was going to protect the line of Durin as they had protected and offered her a chance in life. Princess Dis gave her security and hope for the future, and Eilin was forever grateful and indebted to this family. She was going to do the best she could for them. Even if that was to stand in front of the princess and take a deadly blow in her stead.
"The wind is rough on the face, pull your scarf higher up." Dis offered bluntly and kept her eyes on the road.
Eilin nodded silently and did as she was told.
"It is coming from the North in frozen blasts, maybe you should take your maid's advice my Lady and wear the fur." The Lieutenant that led their platoon galloped next to them.
Dis felt detached, but his intervention was too polite to be ignored. "I cannot feel the cold for there is a fire in my heart." She muttered.
"A fire?" The man asked.
"My heart is burning to see my children…and not until I lay my hand on my brother's face will it go out." She whispered and felt her eyes tearing. She drew herself up and swallowed heavily.
The Lieutenant lowered his head sorrowfully.
Eilin felt that her presence there was imposing, so she discreetly backed her up up until she was out of hearing range.
"Don't look so sad Lieutenant…you know the casualties of war I presume." Dis continued with a hard and lofty voice. Her eyes were almost glowering at the solitary peak whose dark outline could be seen in the distance. They were approaching Erebor fast. The river took them as far as was possible and then they mounted their small ponies and made as good a time as their animals and their exhaustion allowed. They were no more than a night away from her family.
"Aye my Lady." He replied respectfully.
She hesitated and then looked up to him. His long beard had two long warrior braids splitting it in half, which were tucked in his wide belt. The two long braids of his hair, were caught at the back of his head, keeping his long thick red hair away from his temples. In full armour he looked rather tall and very well build "You lost a family?" she asked.
"Aye, my wife." He didn't turn to face her.
"Which battle took her?"
"Moria." -His face twisted in anger- "I lost my father and my brother there also."
She inhaled sharply. "I feel your pain Lieutenant. I lost my grandfather, younger brother and husband in that accursed battle. Damn the deities that lured my grandfather to reclaim that doomed mountain...still your wife, why was she in the battlefield?"
"She was not."
"What happened to her Lieutenant?" Her chin thrust upwards.
"Retreating Orcs that sought revenge attacked our stronghold in the Northern ranges of Ered Luin. They found her in one of the tunnels which she ran to in order to bring a child back to safety. The child was saved, but she was slain…" he spoke hardly with any emotion.
Dis lowered her head. "So much pain, so much endless loss for all of us. I am sorry."
"I am sorry for yours." He bowed respectfully, but avoided her eyes.
"What is your name?"
"Dongar Blacklock."
"'Tis a noble name." A smile played on her lips, even though her heart was sank in a black pool of hopelessness. "From the halls of Orocarni, right?"
"Yes my lady." He smiled.
"I am glad you are my escort Lieutenant." She faced forward and let the cold wind blow part of that darkness away.
"My honour." He touched his fist upon his heart and bowed.
"We are just a night away, isn't that right Dongar?" she frowned.
"Yes, but we must camp soon. The ponies won't last all through the night."
"There are no Orcs along the road. I think your presence here has been needless, even though it's solemnly appreciated."
"The armies of my master have driven the Orcs back into the mountains. The roads through the plains seem free enough, but I wouldn't risk your safety, my Lady"
"Thank you." She nodded gratefully.
"How would have I ever been able to face the legendary King Thorin Oakenshield, without being certain that I have done everything I could to protect his sister." He added.
She looked at him and cracked a smile.
He bowed in respect.
That smile didn't last long. Her lips turned down sadly and her chest welled again. "Do me a favour Dongar. Get my fur coat from my maiden." Suddenly it was as if that conversation had drawn all the remaining heat from her body and she began shivering from the cold.
"At your service." He bowed and turned his horse around. He found the peculiar and secretive maiden of the Princess further back away from every company. He asked for the fur coat politely and soon enough he was riding alongside the strikingly beautiful daughter of Durin. Throughout the years the beauty of the Longbeards was well spread in every Dwarven Kingdom, but seeing one of them up close had impressed him deeply. No matter how beautiful this woman was, and how penetrating her azure eyes were at his soul, he tried hard to avoid looking at her as such a deed would be considered imprudent. He held the coat as she wore it and buried her chin under the thick fur lapels. Her black arched eyebrows were creased deeply as the worries of her heart lay heavy. "I am truly sorry for your wife Dongar. Was the child yours?" she spoke after a long time.
He sighed. "No, Mahal didn't bless our union with a child."
She gazed at him, but remained silent at that.
He was respectfully looking towards the road. "My woes have faded from the merciless passage of time. Yours are still fresh my Lady. Tell me if there is anything I can do to assist you." He offered and met her eyes.
She pressed her lips. "I won't rest until I bury my dead son Dongar and I embrace my living son. I cannot rest until I kiss the lips of my brother, dead or alive." Her voice broke as more tears came unbidden.
"We could press on tonight my lady, but it will be hard on the animals and you. Do you wish me to do that?" He tried to offer her any kind of comfort.
"No, let the men rest, but can you send off a raven in the meantime? I need to have news of my brother and son tonight…" Her azure eyes pierced through his very soul with their honest need.
"I will do so immediately my Lady." He bowed sharply.
Four hours later they were camping under the protection of a huge cavern. Several fires had been lit around their small camp and Dis was sitting upon a stone in front of a fire that Eilin had made for them. Dis fell completely silent after her short discussion with the Lieutenant. She saw the raven flying of to Erebor, but hadn't yet seen it return and now her heart was full of terror. The anticipation of reaching the Lonely Mountain felt almost unbearable to her already broken spirit.
"I won't be able to sleep tonight." She muttered defeated to Eilin.
"My Lady, you have to try. Tomorrow your kin is going to need you strong and healthy to help them out." Eilin whispered.
Dis pressed her lips as her troubled soul was mirrored in her countenance. "Why does the raven delay so much? It should have been back with news by now."
Eilin approached and showed Dis the cauldron. "I made a soup. Maybe you should eat something, it will make you feel better."
"I cannot." Dis shook her head dejected and was about to send Eilin away in order to silent brew in her agitation, when the piercing caw of the much expected raven tore the sky above them making her heart jump out of her throat. Dis sprang up and dashed after the raven with an agility that looked difficult considering all the layers of clothing she was wearing and nothing stopped her until she reached Dongar. The Raven was perched on his arm as the Lieutenant unfolded a scroll.
"News from Erebor?" She asked breathless.
He looked up to her. Her long black hair had gone lose from her braid and her eyes were wide and beseeching. He swallowed and gave her the scroll with a respectful bow.
She took it with trembling hands and looked down.
"Dongar,
Inform Princess Dis that her son Fili is doing very well. The wound on his back didn't penetrate any internal organs and he was lucky not to have suffered permanent damage. He is recovering quickly. King Oakenshield's wound on the other hand is rather severe. He is feverish and delirious. I am afraid that he might not make it through the night. Break the news to her gently. She might find her brother dead tomorrow upon arrival.
Dain IronFoot"
She felt her fingers numbing down and the parchment slipped from them and instantly got drenched by the wet mud in front of her heavy boots. "No...no ...no..." She stammered and looked up at Dongar's green eyes.
"My lady?"
"My brother…" She whispered and felt her chest imploding. Then without any warning her knees unlocked and she was free falling. The Lieutenant was quick to catch her and keep her aloft.
"I'll take you to your maiden." He said and pressed his lips.
"No, we need to get back on the road tonight!" Dis hissed and grabbed hold of his fur lapels.
"You are in no condition to travel. You can barely stand." He tried to reason.
"Everyone died without me having a chance to see them off…I need to do that with Thorin!" She whispered and a sob escaped her.
"Very well, we shall depart immediately if that is your wish." He reassured her.
"I will help!" Eilin's timid voice made them turn to her. She was bowing to the ground with tears in her eyes.
"I'll wake up the soldiers, you fix the horses." Dongar gave orders to Eilin.
"Give me one of your swords Lieutenant!" Dis said haughtily and pulled away from him.
"My Lady?" He frowned in mild confusion.
"I can wield one very well and you need all the help that you can get…" She spoke decisively. Nothing would stop her from reaching her family before her brother was dead.
"I can shoot a bow..." -Eilin intervened shyly and after a momentary pause she added- "pretty tolerably."
Dis gazed at her hard for a moment before turning to Dongar. "Get her a bow."
"Very well my lady." He said and went off to wake up everyone.
"Haven't shot one in five winters, but I will try my best." Eilin added with hesitation.
Dis looked at her sharply. "If any of them escape my sword which I doubt, shoot in the general direction of their bodies and we should be fine." She rejoined and her jawline flexed, as did her small determined fists.
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