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*Dreams or nightmares?
"While you sleep… dream of me,
I'll be keeping our memory,
Living in my heart and soul
Waiting for all the days…
When we will be together again,
Carry me to my love
All I see is the clouds above,
Where I know he is waiting for me…" *
-.-
A song, yes there was a song coming from afar, but he didn't know if it was inside his dreams or the real world, where songs were now laments for the fallen. Melodies full of despair and anguish that reminded him of the loss of his boy and of his own affliction. How useless his body was now as it lay there above sweaty sheets, being enveloped in dirty clothes that stuck upon his skin like leeches while his crusty and hard hair felt like dry weed on his face, poking the gaping wound on his forehead mercilessly each time he wanted to move about a bit. In the world of dreams he could be as strong and youthful as he chose. In the real world half his body felt like it belonged to someone else since it was painless, while the rest was burdened with a throbbing pain that tore his already confused mind, apart.
If he had to choose he'd stay in the worlds of dreams. No...scratch that, if he had a choice he wouldn't have ever returned to this world, in order to live inside a torn body that didn't have enough strength to make him open up his eyes, never mind function properly. He didn't know what kind of hell brought him back to life when he had almost touched the hand of his father, but he wanted to curse them to the underworld. No one asked him if he wanted to return...no one cared what he wished for. He had sacrificed himself for his family and for his people. He had reclaimed this land and his life ended. He wanted to move on, he wanted to rest, but they didn't allow him. They tore him away from that magical peaceful moment with his father and threw him back on earth violently. Now that he was here he had no choice but to face his sister about her loss and about how much he failed all of them. Here he would have to face himself for all his failures of the past. Reality was the place that would force him to fight the demons of his forefathers and the nightmarish reality he had created for himself by all his wrong choices. Why did he ever decide to reclaim his homeland perchance? Was it to soothe down the spirits of his forefathers or to satisfy his own needs?
He could have remained behind in the Blue Mountains, writing a requiem for his life and searching endlessly for his long lost father. Still everything else would have remained intact and prosperous in his Halls. Dis and her boys would have been safe and alive now. Thorin's company...The quest for Erebor...the mighty plans for revenge...everything got crushed under the immense grief he now felt for his nephew. Everything looked bleak and uncalled for after Kili's unnecessary sacrifice to Erebor's cause. His mighty plans for revenge now seemed so empty and he could only mock them with endless bitterness. He accused Thranduil of egotism as he merited the Gems of Lasgalen more than his family, but hadn't Thorin done the same thing for the Arkenstone? Were he and the Elven King as different as he had always hoped, or more alike than he'd ever like to admit?
Here in the world of reality awakening seemed terrifying, more so than dying by the sword of Azog, because here he had to face his sister, his brethren, the seven families, the immense fortune of the Lonely Mountain, the King's Gem, and above all himself...and that last part he dreaded the most. It wasn't as if all these years he hadn't been able to live with what he did in the past, but his focus was always pointed outwards. He was always concerned with the safety and the well being of his people, the protection of his family's most sacred secret, the ruling of his Halls, finding his father, lamenting his dead and finally the quest to reclaim a homeland.
Whilst now? Now his focus would eventually turn inwards and he feared what he would see forgotten inside the darkest corners of his mind.
He was not sure he wanted to return to the reality this song was calling him back into with that enchanting voice. He was not sure he wanted to wake up again and look at the tormented face of his sister. Returning back to their childhood days when he cursed the bloody rodent out of his sight whenever she was pissing him off, felt so much better. In the real world, she was not the happy go lucky black haired devil that he wanted to choke anymore. She was a broken woman who had lost husband and son, father and brother and he had to face the destroyed part of her. That scared him and saddened him beyond measure. Not only could he not mend his beloved sister anymore, but he had caused another big piece of her to shatter. It was hard seeing her fall apart because of fate, but causing her this hurt himself was truly unbearable. He was supposed to be the only one left to take care of her and her children after everyone else died. He was not supposed to cause more grief to her...yet he did exactly that, with the worst possible way and he couldn't forgive himself.
As the song continued it's canorous journey in his mind, he thought that maybe in the world of dreams that melody could enliven all those memories that he had loved and cherished, giving him a much needed break from the reality he so much dreaded. So he allowed himself to fall back in the world of dreams where everything was better, as long as those dreams carried on as dreams and didn't become blood curdling nightmares...
As he had already drifted away once more, he didn't hear the voice stopping it's singing and asking him worriedly as he began twisting nervously, deeply affected by the dreams that he was seeing. "What is it my Lord are you alright? What is it..."
Thorin reached back and took her small hand in his, but he felt the hesitation. He stopped and looked at her. Her beautiful hazel eyes had a shadow of doubt. He frowned slightly in protest. "What is it?" He whispered. His quick breathing released puffs of precipitation in the air between them and so did hers.
"I can't come…" she pulled her hand away, but her eyes smiled at him.
He bit his lower lip. "Why not?"
"We are not engaged yet!" She looked around her quickly, the fear of being found was obvious in her voice.
He grasped her forearm this time. "We will be, soon enough!"
Her lips became tight , but she didn't try to pull away from him again. "You know your father will never accept you to marry the daughter of a sword-smith."
"Siv, I am a sword-smith, and it's my choice whom I will wed." His azure eyes blazed as his wide palm tightened around her forearm.
Her gaze remained troubled on his for several moments before something seemed to give up inside her. "No it's not…" She whispered. Her free hand climbed up his shoulder and her fingers tunnelled lazily through his hair. "It's not your choice, my love..." Her tone turned sad.
"If you are implying that I don't have the courage to take control of my life…" He frowned.
"Have you told King Thror about us yet?" She interrupted him.
He swallowed uneasily and looked at her lips.
"You haven't." She smiled sorrowfully and her fingers drew soft circles under his hair, raising goosebumps on his skin.
"I will!" his arm wrapped around her waist and drew her to him possessively.
"When Thorin? We've been meeting secretly for two years now and we've been longing each other much longer." Her fingers tightened in his hair angrily.
"You know I need to find the right timing and with the dragons that have been attacking the stronghold…" He tried, but she spoke over him again.
"You are procrastinating, because you know he is going to refuse us."
He tightened his arms around her and then his lips were on hers, soft, but also demanding, taking her in a deep kiss that made her eyes close in bliss. The words "I love you" were whispered on her mouth, with the same passion and need that his kiss so openly declared.
She nodded and felt her eyes tearing up. "I love you too."
His hand cupped the back of her head lovingly and he drew his lips on hers, trembling with the feverish need of youth to become on with her. A need they both shared equally. A need that had been brewing all this time, always unstoppable, difficult to control, until they both gave up under its immense pressure repeatedly hidden in the darkest shadows of Erebor. "I will tell him Siv, believe me. I cannot live without you…" He whispered and his voice was vibrating with all the fiery emotions that were burning him from the inside out.
Her hand caressed his cheek gently. "I cannot live without you either, Thorin...but you are the only one who can help us". When she opened her eyes a few tears cascaded down her cheeks that had blossomed a vivid pink colour from his wild kisses.
"I will my love. Believe me I will". He drew her head under his neck protectively and his eyes filled with unbidden tears.
"My father is suspecting that something is going on with us. He has asked me many times and I keep refusing. If he ever finds out that we have been meeting secretly he is going to go and face your father. He doesn't care that Thrain is the King's son or the bearer of one of the Rings of Power. Thorin, my father will demand reprimanding. I don't want us to come down to this." She spoke quickly, needing him to understand how dire their situation was.
"I shall not let it come down to this, on my word of honour!" He rejoined gravely.
His smooth palm covered her jawline and her fingers clawed the fur neckline of his coat as they kissed hidden under the alcoves of the stables for a long time, when suddenly a pair of hushed voices made them pull apart.
"Thorin?" Her voice whispered in terror as her eyes searched for the newcomers.
"Hush..." He enfolded her close to his chest and kept her head under his chin, as he tried to identify the voices that were coming from the other side of the panel.
"What the hell Frerin, are you mad?!"
Thorin's eyes blazed and his brows came together in annoyance. That was the voice of his sister, and apparently she was there with his younger brother.
"I will take Missy out for a ride, you mark my words!" Frerin declared.
"Dad is going to kill you!" Dis cried.
"He will do no such thing, because he will never find out! Unless you tell him, you little snitch!" Frerin spat vehemently.
"I would never tell on you!" -Young Dis moaned and sniffled- "I am just scared you will kill yourself. You don't know how to ride these big war rams yet!"
"You just see if I don't!" Frerin thundered and opened up the door of a large black ram that looked absolutely terrifying.
"You are doing this just to impress Mevola!" Dis hurled at him when she saw that her pleadings were not working on her stubborn brother.
Frerin stopped with his hands on Missy's reigns. "No I am not!" He snapped.
"I know what you've been up to with her in the kitchens! You want her to see you riding this monster and be dazzled, don't you?" Dis grumbled.
"Have you been spying on me?" Frerin rejoined furiously.
"No, I just happened to come across you two kissing, which was ultimately gross!" Dis' face twisted in disgust.
"I hope you won't tell dad, because I will stitch your mouth shut, I swear! Not even Thorin will be able to dig you out of this mess!" Frerin glowered at her.
"I won't tell anyone, but please stay! You are going to let your bloody hormones kill you. I don't want to pick up your pieces from the fields!" Dis rebuked.
"You won't have to!" Frerin hissed and jumped on the ram with a royal attitude that would have muted even his father.
Dis gritted her teeth. "I am not going to tell dad, but I am going to tell Thorin!" She tried to intimidate her younger brother by using the name of her older one.
"Don't you dare speak a word, or else…"
"What? Else what? You are going to break your head out there you fool!" Dis crossed her arms and looked at him with derision.
Frerin grumbled angrily and kicked the ram. The beast thundered out of the stables raising a cloud behind it. Thorin caressed Siv's jawline with his thumb and looked at the residue of dust as it settled down slowly. His woman tightened her arms around his body and kissed his thumb gently.
She raised on tiptoe and pulled him down from the lapels until her mouth was grazing his ear. "Shouldn't you attend to your little sister?" she whispered.
He swallowed heavily and shook his head. Then he remained silent until he heard Dis' quick angry steps stomping out of the stables. They didn't speak long after they made sure the place was empty. A long exhalation that arose from his chest animated Siv who stirred inside his arms.
"Why didn't you go to her?" She looked up to his face.
"Because I have you in my arms and I never want to let you go." He offered her a loving smile that made her nibble her bottom lip.
Her fingers traced his long beard braid briefly before wrapping around it and using it to pull him down to her. "You know if my brothers saw us like this, they'd fight you to restore my honour."
"I'd fight them back and then restore your honour in a heartbeat." His finger coasted along the softness of her cheek.
"Would you do that truly?" A shadow of doubt flickered on her face.
He lowered his head until his lips were touching hers. "Never doubt that you will be my wife Siv." -Then he pecked her once softly- "Never, ever doubt me." He whispered. One of his hands reached the back of his head and retrieved something from his thick mane.
She frowned in confusion when he took two long strands of hair from her temples and drew them back. Then he clipped his golden bead on them and pulled back in order to admire her. "Simply beautiful." He smiled proudly.
She felt her cheeks firing up as her elegant fingers traced his bead. "Thorin this is…"
"It bears the sigil of the Longbeards my Lady. Wear it proudly, until I can honour you with a ring bearing my initials instead. I will talk to my father this weekend." He bowed and pulled her hand up in order to offer it a gentle kiss.
Her eyes sparkled and she embraced him hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. He laughed then, but his laughter was stopped short as she claimed his mouth in a kiss that was so open and fierce that he yielded every resistance to her. As the sun began setting, their shadows emerged from the alcove and drew long on the ground that was painted orange from the majestic colours that ruled the sky that afternoon. Their shadows remained one as they dashed to Erebor, holding hands...they were always one….they never separated...
...until…that fateful day...
His need not to remember what happened with Siv was what finally drew him back to the world of reality. His body felt numb and so incredibly heavy, that he was unwilling to move at all. His mind was still saturated with his dream about Siv while his ears stretched to hear that magical song once more, but it was to no avail. It had apparently stopped. It didn't take him long to remember exactly where he was and how badly wounded. He remembered every word he spoke with Fili and Dis. He remembered the beautiful Elven Queen chanting her words of magic close to his face and lifting away the consuming heat that was luring him into that dark and dreaded corridor of nothingness. He even remembered nightmarish fractions of his final moments up at Ravenhill, when he decided to pull away his sword and allow that beast to finish him. His ferocity when he retaliated was not only a vivid memory, but in comparison to all the rest it still send a flow of adrenaline rushing through his veins.
What he couldn't remember was how his comrades managed to stop his heavy bleeding or how they brought him back to life, because he had left this world, for that he was certain. He had seen Thrain at the end of a bright tunnel smiling at him. He was almost touching his father when suddenly he was thrown back to this earth bleeding and screaming in pain, looking very much like a newborn. The tight stretching on his pained skin revealed that he had probably been stitched up at some point, but how they managed to do that was thankfully a mystery to him. He moved his fingers around the bed to search for his sister's or nephew's hands, but found none close by. His brow rippled with uncertainty and his crusty hair once more teased his angry forehead wound. Suddenly the need to have a drink began colliding violently with his need to find enough strength in order to lift his hand and push away his damned hair so it wouldn't scratch his torn skin anymore. He gritted his teeth and made a serious effort to get his hand above the quilt and lift it up to his face when his fingers brushed close to something that felt similar to fur. He traced around it and he caught up a sleeve, for a moment forgetting the need to clear his face. "Siv?" He whispered and then cringed painfully.
No, not Siv...
He hurried to correct this slip of his tongue. "Dis?"
"The princess has gone to see her dead son, my Lord." He recognised the voice. It was the same one that had been singing before.
"Fili?"
"The prince is resting, do you wish me to alert him, my Lord?"
He shook his head and opened up his eyes slowly. A slim figure enveloped in very long red hair was leaning above him. She hadn't removed her sleeve from his tight grip. "Elves again…" He exhaled with certainty.
"No my Lord, I am your sister's maiden." The voice reassured him and then a petite cold palm landed above his hand and he shuddered. "Worry not, I am here to assist you."
He licked his chapped lips and closed his eyes. He released her sleeve and tried to touch his hair in order to clear them, but his fingers landed on his bearded jawline and remained there useless. Suddenly he felt his chest welling and everything bothered him to the point of madness. The sweat on his skin felt too sticky and his clothes and quilt too heavy. He felt that if he moved one more time and his leather trousers rubbed against his hot skin he would go crazy. The puncture wound on his foot was throbbing angrily every time the quilt rubbed against it and every single move he made tickled his gaping forehead wound so much that he wanted to bust out of his skin in order to escape this misery. The same melodic voice broke through his nightmare in order to remind him of the maiden's presence.
"Let me help you, my Lord." She said and lowered his hand back down, making all it's slow and painful progress be for nothing. Suddenly he felt angry at her too, without being given any reason.
"Don't touch me!" He snapped and she pulled away quickly.
"I am sorry, my Lord...please forgive me." Her voice sounded hushed and utterly terrified.
Thorin exhaled furiously through his nose, but didn't know whom he was angry most with. This maiden who didn't even know how much she had stalled his progress, the dreadful situation of his broken body or himself for being unable to handle his own skin at that moment? He remained there feeling his jawline flexing and his nose flaring, unable to move his hand up to his forehead and with an intense need to drink some water for several moments before he admitted defeat. He didn't open up his eyes when he spat between his gritted teeth. "Can you clean my forehead?..."
The silence betrayed the hesitation across from him.
He pressed his lips and tried again. "Can you get my damned hair away from my wound?..." Before it drives me insane, he wished to add, but he thankfully refrained.
He heard the light footsteps approaching the bed. "I have to touch you in order to do that, my Lord." The voice stated the obvious while the fear was clear in it's tone.
"Do so then..." He opened his eyes. His vision was still blurry, but he was able to discern her thin figure and her white skin.
She couldn't have been more fearsome and reluctant to touch him, but when she did he barely felt her fingers skimming past his sweaty skin. When his rough hair finally released his wound he exhaled loudly and closed his eyes. He nodded his gratefulness. "Thank you..." his voice sounded hushed.
Eilin pulled away from him respectfully and crossed her hands in front of her apron. "At your orders my Lord." She whispered. The King had not only been tormented by obvious nightmares in his sleep, he had also woken up in a nasty mood and the poor maiden was ill equipped to deal with the wounded egotism of a broody Thorin.
"I need some water." He said after a long pause and this time his voice sounded less assertive.
"Of course, my Lord. Give me a moment." She curtsied even though he didn't see her.
His eyes closed heavily, but his ears followed her light footsteps across the room. He heard the water splashing in the mug and his stomach did a somersault just at the prospect of tasting it. The footsteps shuffled quickly back and the same clammy, small hand lingered above his nape. "Am I allowed to touch you?" The soft voice questioned.
He tried to inhale deeply, but the pain that awoke in his stomach made his eyes water. He nodded quickly. "Yes..."
"I need to lift you up a little bit, okay?" The anxiety was obvious in her tone.
He understood how difficult it would be for someone to lift him up so in an effort to take partial control of his severed body he leaned his elbows on the mattress and tried to push up while her hand cupped his nape and drew him. Unfortunately though they barely managed a good job between them. When the cup touched his lips, he didn't have the opportunity to sip any, as most of it spilled on the side of his neck and wet his pillow.
"I am so sorry my Lord, I will clean it immediately!" The small unsure hand released his nape and his muscles clenched instinctively in order to keep him up, which was the most unwise thing his body could have ever done. The pain that tore through his stomach was so severe that he lost all sense of the world around him. He cried out in anguish and fell back to the bed defeated. His body twisted and turned in a desperate need to stop the pain, but he couldn't find solace anywhere. He cursed his need to ask for water in Khuzdul so rudely that poor bewildered Eilin blushed down to her toes.
She tried to calm him down. "My Lord, please stop! You will break your stitches!"
He barely heard her as he struggled blindly for a few moments before two surprisingly strong hands wrapped half way around his wide wrists. Their unexpected touch was enough to stop him from struggling against her momentarily.
"Still, be still, you are making the pain worse!" -Eilin tightened her fingers around his skin- "Now open up your eyes and look at me!"
He did so, but her face was blurry and the pain…the pain was beyond endurance. Then her voice returned again soft, yet commanding enough to keep him grounded.
"You don't know me my Lord, and I know you only from the tales spoken about your courage, but I am here to help you!…No!…Look at me, not the window!…" She shook his hands in order to bring him back to her as his eyes were turning glazed from the anguish.
He turned to her and tightened his teeth aggressively towards a new wave of intolerable torture that awoke from his body.
"I know what it feels like to be torn apart from the inside out! I know what it feels like to hurt and not be able to stop it! How it feels like to feel weak against the pain…" her voice faded and her brows furrowed as her eyes seared into the deep azure colour of his.
He blinked once and her face slowly came into focus. He groaned as he tried to ride another painful wave, but he didn't try to remove his eyes from her piercing stare.
"The pain will eventually stop. It will not last forever, my Lord. Even the worst pain doesn't last forever..." her voice was hushed and then as if through a dream he felt the most strange sensation. It was as if her forefinger was trying to clumsily caress the inside of his wrist.
He frowned at his wound's screaming waves that collided so brutally with the soft contact of her fingers, but that confusion lasted only briefly in his pain ridden mind. Eventually it got trampled ruthlessly under the agony that persecuted him. Still though when he began fading away from her once more, the small pressure of her fingers on his wrist was enough to pull him back and have him concentrate on her face.
"Breathe…in and out…just breathe and keep your body still. That's it…" She cooed.
His eyes fluttered and he offered her a defeated nod.
"Is it better?" She asked.
He swallowed heavily. "Yes."
"If you don't twist your body around violently, the pain will mellow down. Okay?" Eilin said softly.
His face twisted in agony once more. "Yes." He repeated.
"My name is Eilin and I must ask your forgiveness, because what happened just now was my fault. It was hard to lift you up on my own, my Lord. I should have asked for help." She said quietly and he heard the honest regret in her voice.
He felt his lips turning into a ghostly half smile. "Gentler next time…"
She closed her eyes and lowered her head. "I will be much more gentle next time my Lord, I promise."
Another nod came from him and also a deep exhalation of relief as the painful waves came further apart now that he had partially relaxed. "I still need some water." He remembered.
"May I be allowed to inform the Princess so we can both try to lift you up?" Eilin asked without realising that she was still holding his wrists.
"No, leave her with Kili. Find Dwalin…" He whispered and tried to draw in as much air as his lungs allowed before his stomach began complaining again.
When her hands released him he felt the cold air hitting his sweaty wrists. He heard her quick footsteps and then her melodic voice once more was there to ground him. "Immediately my Lord." When the door opened up, he heard voices outside for a few moments before Balin rushed in, followed by Dwalin.
"Are you alright son?" The old advisor leaned above him and caressed his clear brow.
Thorin nodded. "Some water please." He whispered exhausted.
"Can you please help me lift him up? I am afraid I managed a poor job out of his considerable weight and I caused him too much pain." Eilin filled the porcelain mug with fresh water.
Balin pressed his lips and looked at Dwalin who rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm under Thorin's shoulder-blades. "How could you even think that you can lift this man up? Why didn't you call on us immediately?" He snapped.
Eilin drew back respectfully and looked at her boots. "An error on my judgment my Lord, forgive me."
"Dwalin it's okay." Thorin grasped his friend's hand and Dwalin looked at him with a frown, that quickly melted into a smile.
"Are you alright?" His best friend asked with tears edging his eyes.
Thorin reciprocated as much of the smile as he could and nodded feeling spent. "Do I look alright?"
Dwalin raised his brows. "Oh, you have no idea. Right now you look brilliantly well!"
Thorin huffed and then groaned as a new, but much less intense wave of pain galloped through his torso.
Dwalin pressed his hand and frowned. "Steady...don't laugh."
Balin smiled at Eilin. "Don't give my brother any notice dear girl. He is always out to scare everyone apart from Thorin. Now bring me the mug." -He turned to Thorin- "Come laddie we'll help you up." Balin placed his arm under Thorin's shoulder-blades too and with Dwalin's help they lifted him up to a seated position easily.
Balin took the water from Eilin's hands and brought it to the King's mouth. The moment Thorin's lips touched the drink his body convulsed with the need to devour it, but he forced himself to consume slowly and prudently. He was not in a hurry to repeat what just happened, through a coughing fit. When he had enough he pulled his head away and looked at Balin. "Thank you."
Balin smiled and sat on the bed next to him. "You cannot imagine how happy we both are to see you awake and well."
Thorin closed his eyes. "I am hardly feeling well Balin." He murmured.
Dwalin sat on the other side and clasped his hand. "How is the pain?" His voice was troubled as his hand reached out to touch Thorin's forehead in order to check on his temperature.
Thorin exhaled and closed his eyes. "Hardy bearable."
Balin pressed his hand affectionately. "We have nothing to give you in order to soothe the pain laddie..." His tone was regretful.
Dwalin raised his brow. "Maybe we can feed him some mead."
Balin looked at his brother sharply. "Oin would probably kill us if we ever suggested such a folly."
Thorin's lips upturned into a faded smile. "Alcohol would probably help..."
Dwalin chuckled. "Glad to see part of you is back with us."
Balin huffed. "Don't encourage him with such hogwash. He cannot have alcohol now. His stomach is torn from the inside out."
Dwalin waved him away, bothered. "Oh, give us a break, will you?"
"I shall not! We are here to help him heal, not make him worse!" Balin warned sternly.
Thorin pressed his hand. "I won't do anything that I am not allowed Balin. Calm down."
Balin sighed and caressed his hand firmly. "Do you remember anything from what happened son?"
Thorin shook his head slightly. "No."
"Do you remember when we brought you back from Ravenhill?" Balin leaned over eagerly.
Thorin shook his head.
Dwalin cleared some hair away from Thorin's temple. "Do you remember what happened at the King's Halls?"
Another negation from Thorin and Dwalin's face settled down. "Thank heavens." He mouthed and Balin nodded across from him.
"I only remember the view of the valley and the eagles flying free above it." Thorin whispered.
Dwalin's eyes smiled. "That's a beautiful memory."
Thorin's eyelids cracked open weakly. "Did I die?"
Balin and Dwalin exchanged a long guarded look, before Balin answered a heartbroken. "Yes."
Thorin swallowed a pained throat and nodded. "How did I get back?"
Balin looked at Dwalin who averted his eyes and looked at his hands. "Gandalf intervened."
Thorin sighed and closed his eyes. The silence was long drawn from him and the brother's looked at each other troubled for several moments before Thorin gifted them with his rich voice once more. "And as always he never asked, did he?"
Balin's brows furrowed and his hand pressed the King's. "What do you mean my boy?"
Thorin forced himself to open his eyes. "He never asked if I wanted to come back, did he?"
Those words made Balin's tears release, Dwalin's face to blanche and Eilin to look up sharply.
Thorin's lips curled up in repugnance.
It took several heavy moments for Balin to reply to that. "Lad please don't..."
Thorin shook his head. "I won't...that's enough."
Dwalin cupped his chin and looked at his friend's face in grief. "Thorin..."
The King grasped Dwalin's hand. "Forget it. Please lay me down..."
The brothers did so carefully and Thorin exhaled in obvious relief. "Thank you."
Balin covered him up and caressed his forehead, taking care not to touch his wound. "You are still weak..."
Thorin cringed and gritted his teeth. "I am torn apart Balin...I can barely breathe never mind resume command of this bloody kingdom... I am more than weak...I am almost over." He spat with obvious hatred towards his dire condition and to Gandalf's decision to bring him back.
Dwalin clasped his forearm and held it tight, but remained silent.
Balin forced himself to smile. "You are doing very well my lad. You are well on your way to recovery. The pain might still feel awful, but this is the first time we are able to have a full conversation without you being utterly delirious!"
Thorin looked at him wearily. "I was delirious?"
Balin nodded sadly and Thorin turned his expressive eyes to Dwalin. His brow clouded. "Did I speak of any names?" He asked with a hushed tone that was full of trepidation.
Dwalin shook his head slowly. "No brother you didn't."
Thorin relaxed back and his eyes fell shut again. He gave them a soft nod.
Dwalin gazed worriedly at Balin who shook his head. Then he addressed their King. "Were you having nightmares?"
Thorin's lips pressed and so did his hand that Dwalin was cradling. "Dreams...I see dreams...so vivid...it's as if I am in them." He whispered.
"What kind of dreams?" Balin asked.
Thorin frowned and forced himself to look at his advisor. "Tell me is Gandalf still here?" He asked, deciding to overlook Balin's interest in his pain induced dream, which he didn't want to share with any of them.
Balin gazed at Dwalin briefly and then collected himself and bowed his head. "He has escorted the Elven Queen back to the Woodland Realm."
Thorin's gaze burrowed in his only too heavy. "Keep him away from Erebor." A dark shadow slowly covered his brow.
Balin frowned. "Thorin he saved you! Hadn't he been here you would have been dead by now!"
"Hadn't he been here I would have been resting and my boy would have still been alive!" Thorin grumbled and instantly hissed as the pain tore through him.
Dwalin clutched his forearm and caressed his head. "Steady...calm down..."
Balin inhaled sharply, not knowing what to say to this solemn, but honest declaration. He felt all the blood draining from his face.
It took Thorin several moments to ride out the painful waves, but when his spoke, his voice resonated heavily on the chamber. "Gandalf is banished from the grounds."
Balin cupped his mouth and looked at Thorin with dread. "He helped us through this trek…"
Dwalin snapped. "Leave him alone for heaven's sake, don't insist! He told you what he wants!" But his intervention was not enough to stop Thorin's deeply rich voice from reverberating upon the gilded walls with stern authority.
"Gandalf was the one who gave me the key, he was the one who led me to this trek…" He stopped and observed his friend with a fiery gaze that wouldn't accept a rebuke easily "…and this trek caused me to destroy what has remained of my family Balin."
"Thorin, don't do this to yourself." Balin's eyes filled with grief.
Thorin shook his head. "Remember what you told me back at the Shire?"
Balin's pallid face gave him an unwilling nod.
"I didn't have to do this, Balin. I had secured a good life for all of you back at the Blue Mountains. You've been right my friend, but my greed consumed my logic and I ended up losing my boy." His fingers tightened around Dwalin's and his friend pressed him back reassuringly.
"Thorin...don't..." Balin tried.
"I've sacrificed everything that was ever important to me for nothing. Everything I ever loved got forfeited for this city and for its treasure. Now I lost my nephew because of it. I shouldn't have returned. None of this should have happened and it all began from Gandalf. He found me, no chance meeting, and he stirred my life until it was upside down. I was out to find Thrain and I ended up destroying my sister, Balin. Half of her is dead and it's all because of him!" -He hissed and tried to pull back his anger- "…because of me…"
"You are too hard on yourself and on the grey wizard…" Balin made another try to break through to him.
Thorin wouldn't have it though. He looked up and for a moment his glazed eyes became sharply focused. "Keep Gandalf and his scheming away from Erebor. That's an order." His voice deepened darkly and his brow wrinkled.
Balin nodded and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Will do Thorin."
The King leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Tell Gloin to open up the treasury." He rejoined.
"Man is sharp as a needle. He knew you'd wake up full of oomph and he has already done that." Dwalin smiled.
"Has Dain secured the perimeter?" Thorin asked quietly.
"Yes."
"How about Dale?"
Dwalin raised his brow at Balin meaningfully and answered instead. "You want us to send troops there? We only have a skeleton army after all the loses."
"Have you counted the dead yet?" Thorin's azure eyes turned on his bodyguard.
Dwalin shook his head. "No, but the enemy has more than us, I can vouch for that."
Thorin nodded and pressed his lips. "Extend the protection over Dale."
Dwalin pressed his hand. "At your orders."
"I hear rain." Thorin frowned and his eyes got lost at the grey clouds in the sky that were visible from his prominent balcony.
"It has been raining non stop for three days and nights." Balin rejoined.
"Ask Dain to secure the borders and then break camp. I need everyone to lay down their arms and pick up their trades. Give the soldiers homes and food...anything that is currently available. Balin, keep record of each man's trade and assign them as appropriate. I need men to reignite the furnaces, to rebuild the gates, to handle the water works and to hunt. I need masons to rebuild sturdy impenetrable barricades at the holes these filths had dug up in order to march their army here and that is imperative to happen as soon as possible." Thorin spoke quietly, but with every drop of acuity in his mind, currently present.
Balin beamed down to Thorin. "I am on my way right now!" He stood up eagerly, but Dwalin stopped him.
"First smile I saw from you in a while." His voice was more emotional than he had bargained for.
Thorin turned to Balin also.
"I never expected him to survive this brother. Never mind witness him take over command so quickly again. What's not to be happy about? Listen to him. He is alive, well and giving orders!" Balin said proudly and his eyes overflowed with tears.
Thorin reached out and Balin clasped his hand. "Thank you for everything." His voice cracked.
Balin held him tightly. "We are the ones that should be thanking you my boy for everything you have done for our kin ever since Smaug attacked Erebor. Thank you for everything."
Thorin closed his eyes feeling more emotional that he had wished. "Dwalin, get your brother out of here before I break down in front of strangers." His voice was hoarse.
Eilin's lips turned down and her fingers twisted around each other nervously. She averted her eyes and acted like she was deeply involved in reviving the fire in order not to burden this company with her presence.
Dwalin laughed knowing how playfully that was meant from his best friend and rounded the bed to get Balin. "Come on old man, time to eat something and rest. Tomorrow we all have a lot of work to do. King's orders!"
Thorin closed his eyes and before sleep returned to claim his pained body, a ghostly smile appeared on his lips.
It was that faded smile that Balin admired for several more minutes after opening the door. Finally his eyes fell on the maiden who was messing around the fire. "You shall remain girl?"
Eilin abandoned the fire and stood up. She curtsied and bowed her head. "Yes, my Lord. Princess Dis ordered me not to let the King out of my sight." She said gravely.
Balin nodded and looked at his brother. "Very well."
Eilin bowed her head and didn't raise it again until the door closed behind them. Only then did she gain enough courage to look with ever-growing trepidation at the King who was sleeping serenely once more. She gazed at his closed eyes and remembered their vivid azure colour. He had indeed the same magical colour as his sister, but his gaze held a different gravity altogether that unnerved her to the outmost, as did his voice. She was not in a hurry to have these intense eyes searing into her soul again soon.
She sat at the chair next to his bed and crossed her arms patiently above her thighs. Then her eyes got lost on his face and remained there for what felt like an eternity. She stood still and silent, long after the laments under the balcony had seized and only the soft tapping of the rain was heard echoing inside the silent and dark pillared hallways under the Mountain.
This time she didn't feel the need to break that holy silence with her singing...
A/N: * Eurielle - Carry me
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