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*Hear my voice, sing with the tide
"Wanna have a cup of ale?" The aforementioned cup landed in front of her and spilled over her scrolls.
She frowned and tried to wipe them off, but when her eyes fell on Bofur her expression quickly mellowed. "Lord Bofur I was about to tell you off. These are Lord Balin's papers and I don't want them messed up."
Bofur raised his brow cockily. "First of all I am not a Lord. Try only the name."
She blushed and cast her eyes to the names she had been writing diligently all afternoon. "Okay Bofur".
"Sounds better to you?" He gave her a side smile.
She smiled timidly. "Yes"
"Good. Now you want some ale?" He pointed at the forgotten cup.
She looked at the sky which was slowly growing darker. "I think I do." She offered him a fleeting smile.
Bofur leaned above her shoulder. "Who taught you to write Khuzdul so well?"
"The family that helped me reach the Iron Hills". She said quietly.
"That's a story I would love to hear from you one day." He pointed his finger playfully at her.
She smiled widely. "Of course."
"Over another drink, maybe tomorrow or the next day?" He raised his brows.
She frowned in confusion, but it was Balin's voice who spoke her thoughts outright. "Are you hitting on the young lady, Bofur?"
The clever Dwarf puffed up. "What if I did then? Is there a problem?"
Balin smirked knowingly. "Not with me there isn't, but you should tell her clearly that you are asking her out on a date. She won't understand your subtle proposition."
She felt the redness of her cheeks extending to her extremities and lowered her head feeling embarrassed to death.
Bofur approached her and bumped his shoulder on her playfully. "I am asking you out on a date. Are you up for it?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She looked at him, shocked into silence.
"No, no, no, don't look at me like that. It's just a drink to get to know each other. I am not going to ask for a flower crown yet." He winked at her.
She cupped her cheeks feeling like she was going to pass out. A flower crown was given to the man by the Dwarrowdam when she had decided that he was going to be her partner for life. She never thought that she'd be in such a position ever in her life and she still doubted that something like that would ever happen to her in the future either. "Uhm…" She stammered.
"And I won't offer you any hair beads or rings..." Bofur snickered.
"You don't have any rings!" Balin teased.
Yes of course, she hadn't forgotten that the man in turn offered a hair piece or a ring as a token of his love and attentions towards a Dwarrowdam. "Oh hell…" She whispered.
"We are actually making a big deal out of this just because Lord Grumpy here made these silly insinuations and now the poor woman is freaking out!" Bofur eyed Balin somewhat annoyed when he saw that Eilin was taking this heavier than originally intended.
Balin raised his hand as he was escorting one of the last families inside. "You, young man had always been the most flirtatious in our company! I am just helping out this young lady to learn what to watch out for as she is new to Erebor and our inner dealings."
"Always meddling in my business you are. Nevertheless I am just joking about everything else apart from the drink. I didn't intend to make you feel cornered, I was just teasing Balin here through you, but the offer for company still stands. Bombur and Bifur will probably join us so you are quite safe!" Bofur smiled widely at her and crossed his arms proudly.
Eilin's eyes brightened. "I would be honoured, yes, of course!"
Bofur pointed at her. "Perfect! Shall I pick you up tomorrow at say, noon?"
She threw her eyes down thoughtfully. "I will be free whichever time I am not needed by the King." She suddenly felt flustered when she remembered that she was not as free as her conversation with Bofur had made her feel at first.
Bofur frowned. "You are in Thorin's service? Since when?"
"Since this morning." Balin said and walked over to them.
Bofur's eyes fell on the discreet sigil on the lapels of her tunic and he raised his brow. "Bullocks then. This makes our chances of meeting rather bleak."
She hurried to speak. "The King said he was not going to be needing much of me anyway."
Bofur smiled knowingly. "Now you sound eager and I like that. I'll be expecting you to arrange the time that suits you, alright?"
"Alright." She nodded quickly. She didn't know why but the prospect of having a meeting with Bofur elated her heart beyond recognition. She was not used to been treated with such respect or being seen as a person of any kind of interest and his words had been quite the boost on her almost destroyed self confidence.
"Did Thorin tell you he won't be needing you?" Balin frowned.
"Yes, he said he was used to living without servants for over a century." She met Balin's gaze.
"Yet, he needs assistance now young lady. I heed you warning. Don't listen to what he says and keep your eyes open for him. He is not well." Balin's eyes turned gloomy.
Bofur cringed. "That wound almost killed him, but he is a proud man. He won't ask for help easily. Balin is right."
Eilin's heart warmed up by the way both men were showing their care for their King. "I understand. I am always keeping an eye on him, don't worry Lord Balin." She rejoined solemnly.
"When you feel that Thorin is safe enough to be left alone, then you can go find master charming here and have your drinks, alight?" Balin smiled slyly at both.
She felt her cheeks mounting with colour again and looked down. "Yes my Lord."
Bofur intervened brashly. "Enough you troll's snot! You are making her feel uncomfortable again!"
"It's alright Bofur. I will just need time to get used to all this attention." She tried to explain.
"I am sure as time passes by you will get used to much more attention than this one." -His eyes feasted hungrily on her beautiful alabaster skin- "It will inevitably happen and soon I am sure I will have to worry about competition."
Eilin blushed. Balin humphed and began gathering the scrolls.
Bofur smiled at her slyly. "Now have a sip of this mead and you shall feel better soon enough! Lord Grumpy has tired you more than Thorin will ever be able to manage." Bofur offered her the cup again.
She took two sips and felt her throat burning up. She hadn't had a drink since she left that hellish tavern and this ale wasn't easy on her. "Oh, that's rough…" She mumbled.
Bofur winked at her. "Mead from Erebor's vaults, molten for over a century."
Balin chuckled. "The sugar in it will kick her right in the head! You should have chosen something lighter."
"As if we have anything left. Thorin drunk my last two bottles. Wanna take a ride to Thranduil's and get a couple of wine bottles? That's also fine by me." Bofur's shoulders raised indifferently.
Eilin flicked her shoulders and emptied the cup not really listening to the two men speaking.
"When did Thorin drink so much alcohol and why didn't anybody inform me?" Balin frowned vexed.
Bofur looked at Eilin briefly, understanding that he made a folly. "I don't...know".
Balin turned to her also. "Is this why he was so pissy that morning? He was having a hangover lassie?"
"I am sorry Lord Balin. I was asked not to say anything." She tittered.
"I messed up, I am sorry Eilin." Bofur looked at her.
Balin raised his hands. "He knew too?"
Eilin cringed and nibbled her upper lip.
Balin scratched his beard and scrutinised both her and Bofur irritated for several moments before speaking again. "Who asked you to stay silent?"
"The King himself." She raised her eyes at him.
Balin sighed and caressed his cheek. "If Thorin asked you to keep this a secret then you did your job well, but you must both understand that in his condition drinking alcohol cannot be good."
Both her and Bofur nodded under that gentle reprimand.
Balin raised his brow sternly. "The same goes out for you too young lady. You shouldn't be drinking this so quickly."
Eilin's lips turned down and she placed the cup on the table. After a short moment of contemplation she pushed it further away with her finger just for good measure.
Bofur laughed loudly then. "Enough Balin! Leave the poor girl alone. Now who's with me? Sing like Elves…"
Balin took over with a small smile. "Smoke like wizards…"
"Party like Hobbits…" Bofur rejoined and they both turned to her.
"…And drink like Dwarves." She smiled brightly.
Everyone laughed and she joined in before giving the mead another test as it seemed to be the best alcohol she had tasted for a long time.
When their spirits had settled back down Bofur looked around. "Where is Thorin by the way? Resting?"
Before Balin was given a chance to answer the booming voice of Dain intervened. "That's a question I want to know also. Where is he?"
"With Dwalin in the forest burial grounds. What is it Dain?" Balin stepped forth and took over according to lineage and stature.
Dain pointed behind him where several people were walking up to the gates slowly. "I wanted to introduce him to my brother's family. They have just arrived from the Iron Hills along with all their escort."
Eilin paled and shoved the cup into Bofur's hands silently. He looked at her confused, but she shook her head discreetly hoping that he wouldn't try to wise up in front of these haughty ladies.
"I'll have to do for now Dain." -Balin said and then turned to the ladies and bowed respectfully- "Noble daughters of the noble family of Fain, welcome."
Bofur raised his brow and took a sip from his drink, apparently disinterested in the newcomers, but that wasn't the case with Eilin who had become white as a ghost.
Dain brought the girls in front of him. "This are Valdís and Kárunn. Lord Fain's daughters and this is Balin older son of Fundin, advisor to the King and close friend and cousin of the Longbeards."
"My Lord." Both girls curtsied.
"It is an honour to have you here and I am sorry the King is currently unavailable to meet with you." Balin smiled.
"It is our honour to be amongst you. We are here to salute the return of the King under the Mountain on behalf of my father and of the Iron Hills." Valdís lifted her long coat slightly and bend the knee once.
"Thank you my lady. I shall lead you to him the moment he is available. For now allow me to escort you inside." Balin raised his hand elegantly, offering them the lead.
"We are going to be so grateful to have some proper rest after three days of rough travelling and sleeping in the wild. Also our ponies need to be taken care of" -Valdís looked above her shoulder at their escort- "and our soldiers would appreciate some food. You must know there are many Orcs scouring the mountain ranges beyond the Lonely Mountain my Lord."
"We are aware, my Lady. Everyone in your company shall be taken care off, you need not worry." Balin reassured her.
"I feel the need to inquire about my Lady Dis. The ravens informed us that she arrived safely?" Valdîs raised her brows.
"Indeed she has. I will inform her of your presence as soon as I show you to your rooms." Balin bowed his head respectfully.
"The ravens also informed us that the King has escaped death and he is well into recovery?" Valdís brow wrinkled.
Balin was unable to stop himself from grinning in pleasure. "Yes, he is well enough to take command my Lady. We are deeply thankful to Vala Aulë for this blessing."
Valdís and Kárunn both curtsied. "Deeply thankful we are." They rejoined in unison.
"Let me lead you to your quarters ladies. You need to refresh." Balin said kindly.
Eilin tried to hide behind Bofur, but Kárunn's sharp eyes fixed on her. She lowered her head and tried to avoid any kind of contact. Her heart was beating out of control as she hoped that this lofty, loud-mouthed woman wouldn't say anything about her in front of her new friends, especially in front of Bofur. She felt Kárunn's insisted glare on the top of her head for several moments and then it was gone. When she chanced a look up Fain's daughters were far enough for her to take a deep breath of relief.
"That was absolutely terrifying for you wasn't it?" Bofur whispered and Nori approached them slowly.
She nodded quickly. "It was."
"Why? They seemed polite enough." Bofur frowned at the direction the Iron Hills delegation had taken.
"They might seem polite to a Dwarf-Lord, but they won't be to a lowly servant who up till recently was sleeping amongst the horses in the stables." She winced and averted her eyes.
"Ah…now I get it. You've been having a hard time with them two?" Bofur raised his brow.
A bitter smiled cracked on her lips. "Only with the older one. The younger, the one who spoke is not so bad."
"Don't worry girl, no one is going to harm you while I am around." Bofur crossed his arms and looked at the corridor with an irritated look.
Eilin looked thankfully at Bofur. "Thank you for…you know…everything."
Bofur touched her forearm kindly. "My pleasure. Now come on let's take the company's ponies to the stables."
Eilin smiled and then nodded eagerly.
It was way into the night and everyone was asleep apart from the guards who were changing shifts when Thorin returned back to Erebor. He looked up at the towering statues that stood at the flanks of the gates. The enormous fires of Erebor were once again lit and despite his exhaustion a strong satisfied shudder cascaded down his spine.
Dwalin alighted and looked at Thorin. "I'll go find your maiden and ask her to sort out some fresh clothes for you. Are you off to the hot springs?"
Thorin nodded absently and tried to straighten his aching back, something that ended up with another painful wave that tore him apart. He couldn't expect anything less than serious trouble from his wound tonight. He had managed to mangle himself quite thoroughly at the forest burial grounds and now he was going to pay the price for it, but he regretted nothing of what he did back there.
"I'll wake up Oin and we'll come join you!" Dwalin warned him and marched inside quite decisive as to his actions.
"Fine..." Thorin whispered and pressed his lips. He felt the snow flakes cooling his burning brow. The mason who helped them with the burial walked over to him. "Do you need help, men Ûzbad?"
Thorin shook his head dismissively. "No, I am fine. Go and rest. You've earned it."
The soldier bowed, but he looked rather reluctant to leave his King. Thorin got off the horse with great difficulty and used the saddle to hold himself up. He leaned his head on it and closed his eyes as he tried to regulate his pained breathing. He was dirty from head to foot and also bloody once again. This time he didn't think that he had broken any stitches, but his wound had bled from all the pressure he put on it.
When they reached the burial grounds, he allowed Dwalin and the mason to unload the bodies of Siv's relatives and walked all around the grounds searching for her grave. After almost one hundred years the place was unrecognisable as all the natural landmarks he had placed were now gone. It took him a long of time and a lot of effort to find what he was looking for under the piles of dead vines and hard roots that had covered it.
Then it was time to clean it up and he didn't remain a silent bystander as the other two men did all the dirty work. Feeling bitterly angry at seeing her resting place in such ruins he drew his left arm away from his stomach and decided to make some use of it. He grabbed the axe, but the first try to lift it up and bring it down upon the roots ended up with him doubling down in pain. If it wasn't for the wave of pity that came from Dwalin and the mason, he would have probably given up on the first try. He pushed Dwalin away angrily and reloaded his hands with the axe this time managing a very good strike. He gritted his teeth and pushing back all the mind numbing pain that razored through him each time he delivered a stroke he took his turn amidst his comrades. Keeping his mouth religiously shut and swallowing every groan that was coming up like vomit he finally managed to clear the ancient tentacles of nature and reveal the elaborately carved stone tomb of the last Blacklocks of Erebor.
He froze in time, looking at it like a statue, feeling beads of sweat running down his back...
...Or was it blood?...
...It was the cold sound of stone breaking apart that shook him out of his bleak trance. He gave Dwalin another inconsiderate push and grabbed the crowbar himself. He didn't expect himself strong enough to lift it up and deliver such a strong blow at the sealed seam of the tomb to get it buried almost half way through. This time though he was unable to stop a loud groan of anguish that echoed through the woods. His left hand pulled away from the crow bar and wrapped around his stomach in a desperate need to numb down the torture. Dwalin tried to steady him, but Thorin shook his head almost furiously and then returned upon that tomb with a vengeance. He grabbed the crow bar once more and tried to push it down, but nothing moved until Dwalin and the mason joined in. Soon enough they managed to unseal the cover, which fell to the side releasing a gust of trapped dusty air.
To give his ill state some credit for the effort it was not just him, but all three by the end of that attempt were dirty, sweaty and panting. It was just that Thorin was in the worst condition of them all. He asked Dwalin to place the bodies carefully inside and remove their gold, silver and gems. The mason was already getting his tools ready to reseal the tomb after they finished. As for Thorin, he just stood there, mute and immovable, resembling the statues of his forefathers in the Hall of the Kings. Looking at the bottomless tomb and seeing nothing but bits of colourless fabric and dirt. The earth had taken her into its bowls...or maybe the stones themselves had engulfed her. He removed the ring he had carved for her and looked at it long and hard before throwing it in. He didn't even look where it landed. He forged it for her, he wore it for her, it belonged to her and now that he was home, he brought it to her.
When Dwalin placed the bodies in, Thorin backed up and sat heavily on a stone feeling his body at the end of its tether. It took his friend several attempts to arrange the fresh skeletons respectfully next to the older ones, so as not to overlap each other. Then Dwalin asked the mason for help and they both pulled the heavy slab above the tomb once more. Thorin this time didn't wish to help. Maybe because they were again sealing her inside and he didn't want to be a part of that. When Dwalin asked him quietly if they were going to preform the proper rituals, Thorin nodded and stood up.
As the mason began sealing up the tomb with his tools, Thorin stood with his hands crossed and his head bowed low. He spoke the burial words in Khuzdul and send off the dead with many blessings from his forefathers and himself. Then the lament began. It was low, deep and vibrating with that beautiful melodious voice of his. So mesmerising was it that even the mason stopped in order to partake in the ritual. His somber singing, at times accompanied by Dwalin, took them way into the night. When he withdrew and sat on the stone again, he was feeling drained inside out. It was Dwalin who pointed out at the red spots that had saturated his tunic. Thorin drew his vest apart and they all saw his bloody bandage. That is when Dwalin's face paled and he commanded the mason to hurry up in order to return back home.
Now Thorin was limping heavily towards the royal hot springs. He didn't truly want to take a bath, but his skin was crawling with the touch of the dead and he wanted that eerie feeling to slide off of him. He wanted to shed this day away and with it maybe his nightmares also. He didn't want to go to sleep tonight as he was certain his adventure in the burial grounds was most certainly going to wake up another dream about Siv. Even though his eyes were stinging and shutting down on their own volition, he wanted to resist against the inevitable need to rest. He managed the long walk to the beautifully carved dome with the golden plated floors and the golden gilded dome. He didn't notice that his limb although heavy still looked slightly better than this morning. It didn't even cross his mind that he didn't need the assistance of Dwalin or his cane in order to walk down all those steps and those snaky corridors in order to reach his small paradise. His mind was too exhausted to notice such unimportant details.
When he opened the doors he stopped and gazed dumbfounded at the place were he had passed so many days of his youth. When he was happy and carefree of the troubles of the elder world...when during one of those visits he had pushed Frerin into the large lake, laughing uncontrollably at his brother's angry face. When Dis had barely managed to splash him one time before he took her in his arms and threw her in after Frerin.
A ghostly smile adorned his pale face as he remembered...
...
"Why did you do that Thorin! I am going to tell dad!" Dis screamed and her eyes streamed with tears of frustration.
"Why did you get in the middle of all this! I told you to go back to mom!" He hurled back at her.
"Because I want to play with you and Frerin, but you never play! You always hit each other and then you are hitting me!" She spat angrily and then kicked the waters as if it was their fault that now she was dripping from head to foot.
His brow wrinkled in irritation. "That's how men play Dis! If you don't like it you go play with your dolls."
"I don't want to play with my dolls I want to play with you!" Dis cried straight on his face.
"Shut up you little whiny troll…" Frerin grumbled and splashed more water on her.
"I was trying to help you, idiot!" She kicked him at the shin and Frerin howled in pain.
"I am going to get you, you just see if I don't!" Frerin snapped.
Dis screeched and dashed out of the water.
"Thorin help me!" She fell in his arms.
He rolled his eyes. "You are really not learning do you?"
"What?" She frowned confused.
He picked her up easily and got ready to empty her in the lake again when Thrain came in and caught them red-handed. "What in the name of Mahal is going on here?!" He thundered.
Instead of putting Dis down, Thorin hurled her into the lake in front of his formidable father who cried out. "Thorin what the hell are you doing!?"
Dis began screaming again and hitting the water with her fists. "He keeps throwing me in! Tell him to stop dad!"
"Shut up you snitch!" Frerin splashed her again.
Thrain placed his huge hands on his waist and looked critically at his oldest son, whose cool had not been shaken in the least. "Want to tell me how you ended up making your sister turn blue from crying again?"
"She cannot handle a bit of fun. That's not my fault." Thorin flicked his shoulders with a self content smile.
Thrain raised his brow at his son and looked at his daughter. "Come out of the water petal, let me have a hug." -Dis stomped out of the lake and got buried in his arms. He lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist. She clang onto him like no tomorrow and buried her sniffling head on his chest. Thrain turned to Thorin again- "Do you see her having any fun?"
Thorin sighed. "No"
"Do you like seeing her cry her face purple?" Thrain continued and his huge palm caressed her small back.
"Blue or purple dad?" Thorin crossed his arms provocatively.
Thrain inhaled deeply, forcing himself to be patient against his oldest son's imprudence. "Don't act like a wise ass with me or you'll get a good thrashing and your mother won't be here to help you, bless her soul. You are becoming impertinent and I don't know were I've gone wrong to see you acting in this manner towards your little sister!"
Thorin raised his brow and pursed his lips silently.
"What is this for Mahal's sake? Teenage hormones?"
Frerin snickered from the lake and Thrain turned his attention at his younger son. "What are you laughing about? I didn't see you do anything to help Dis!"
Frerin swallowed his laughter and his face sobered up. "We didn't do anything more than what we do to each other." He tried to explain.
"She is too young to play like that with you! Treat her more gently!" Thrain thundered.
Thorin threw his arms down and opened up his legs decisively. Feeling his young blood boiling close to explosion he looked his father dead in the eyes. "I picked her up and twice threw her into the lake. I didn't hit her, push her, mistreated her or gave her any bruises! If she cannot handle me overpowering her just for the sake of fun, then she should remain in her room with her dolls. Why are you coming down on me like that for? I was playing with Frerin and she came in the middle! You are taking her side just because she is crying like a banshee! Actually you are always taking her side and I am sick of it!"
Thrain's eyes flashed thunders. "That's it young man! You are grounded for a week down at the forging stations! You shall forge four perfect swords within that timeline or you are not going to come back up to your rooms!"
Thorin exhaled roughly through his nose and his eyes flashed with barely contained anger. "Very-well!"
Frerin got out of the lake with slouched shoulders. "Dad, Thorin is right. This time it was her fault for coming in the middle of our game. You are punishing him for nothing!"
Dis looked up from her dad's shoulder and when Thorin's eyes fell on her she buried her head into Thrain's fur collar again and sniffled. "She's afraid of you!" -He snapped at Thorin- "do you like her being afraid of you?"
"She has to learn how to handle fear as much as we do! Isn't that what you are always saying?" Thorin's jawline flexed.
Thrain's eyes thinned on his older son, but he remained silent.
That gave courage to Thorin who continued even harder. "I don't care about your punishments, but is it too difficult for you to take my side for once? Especially when I am not in the wrong?" That question came out of nowhere and it fell hard on his father whose face opened up in sudden realisation that he may have hurt his son.
"Wait a moment." He tried more quietly and his brow clouded.
"I am off to the forging stations!" Thorin threw above his shoulder and walked to the golden plated door.
That is where the heavy hand of Thrain found him and turned him around. "Son, wait a moment please."
Thorin squared his shoulders proudly at his formidable father, something that Thrain always secretly admired. "You make me feel like I've been unfair to you."
"You are always taking her side. Even at times when I have done nothing to her. Only because she is crying loud enough to stir you up. I'm never crying so there is never a need to back me up, is there?" Thorin rebuked.
Frerin came and stood by him.
Thrain frowned. "I don't expect you to cry in front of me to stir my emotions, but I would never condemn you if you did so. When you were younger, before she and Frerin were born, you were crying when you felt injustice like every child does and I comforted you in the same manner. You are older now Thorin and you seem not in need of this kind of comfort…"
Thorin threw his gaze down for the first time since facing his father.
"It's part of becoming a man I suppose. You and Frerin both... your bodies are changing, you are going through many shifts. Hell, you are almost sixteen years old. In a couple of years you will have acquired your final physical form. The one that will take you to old age through the centuries and isn't that final form of yours impressive already? You are almost as tall as me son. I was never short to boot and you are going to grow even taller by the looks of it. I admire you so much and I love you beyond life. You and Frerin. You have to understand that now you are becoming stronger and more self sufficient, but with that comes the need to control that monumental strength of yours. Your training proves that you are going to be a formidable warrior and so is your brother!" Thrain looked proudly at the slightly shorter Frerin.
Thorin crossed his arms and kept his eyes to the floor.
"You are to be the next King of Erebor after your grandfather and me. That dictates that you must have brains, physical strength, but also diplomacy and empathy. Above all empathy for your people and what better way to learn empathy than by practicing on your little sister. She looks up to you…" -he pulled her away from his collar and she sniffled and wiped away her red eyes- "…she is still a little more than a baby and she loves you boys to death. You are her protectors and her moral compass. Play rough with the ones who can handle your roughness. Would it be a lot of trouble to lay down your ever growing manhoods and act gentle around her for a while? She doesn't want to play with her dolls, but with her brothers. Is that a crime?"
Thorin shook his head quietly. "No"
Frerin mimicked him quickly. "No"
Thrain smiled kindly and caressed Dis' hair. "Then stop chasing her in Dale until you make her scream, stop throwing her into the lake and stop breaking her toys. Try to just play with her rules for a little while and then ask her if she wants to play by yours. Now if she agrees, you throw her into the lake and then she starts screaming, Thorin my boy, I will take your side."
Thorin's lit up in a hesitant smile. "Okay father."
"You Frerin my son?"
"Okay dad." Frerin smirked.
Thrain placed Dis down and clasped his hands around his son's shoulders. "I love all of you equally, but your ages make me have different demands out of each one. Now Thorin if you feel that I am most demanding of you, then son you are right. I am, because you are to be the next King. Is that understood?"
Thorin shook his head. "Yes father."
Thrain smiled at them and turned to Dis. "You coming with me doll or are you staying with your brothers?"
"I wanna stay with them." She sniffled and wiped away her nose.
Thrain's fingers tightened again upon their shoulders. "You gonna throw her in again?"
"No, father." They rejoined in unison.
"Very well, don't let me hear any more crying, okay? I have important work to do with grandfather... and Thorin your punishment still stands and starts tomorrow morning."
They all nodded and soon they were alone again, with the two sentinels standing silently at the flanks of the doors. Thorin sighed and looked at his sniffling sister for a silent moment before rolling his eyes. "I am sorry for throwing you in the lake, alright?" He said exasperated.
She nodded and tears mingled with mucus cascaded down to her chin.
"That's disgusting Dis, for Mahal's sake." Frerin made a grimace.
Thorin clasped her hand and led her to the lake. Then he prompted her to kneel down next to him. "Lean over so I can clean you up."
She did and he began cleaning her face and her nose with his hand. "Is that better?"
Dis was absolutely shivering. "Yeah, but I am cold."
Thorin raised his brow at her. "Then take off your clothes silly and get in the warm waters."
She looked at him and giggled. "Okay!"
Frerin facepalmed so hard it echoed in the cavern. "I cannot believe that we went through such a berating and then a sermon just for her to get in anyway!"
Thorin laughed and took off his vest and tunic in order to get in too. "I know right?"
Frerin shook his head in disbelief and and followed them. The rest of that afternoon had been one of the best ones of his life. They remained in the hot springs playing with each other until their mother came to drag them out all pruny, but very happy. That night Dis got out of her bed and borrowed her way in his room and in his bed. She wrapped around herself like a little squirrel next to him and then slept like an angel. After that day he felt very protective towards her and her nightly visits continued until they were much older. She was always sneaking in his bed and sleeping with her back touching his. She ended up feeling more comforted by her older brother and less by her father with time. That was a feeling that followed both of them into adulthood. Frerin ended up having the same protective feelings towards her thusly making their father's expectations come true in the best way possible.
...
This feeling she remembered in her times of pain when she fell asleep upright in his arms two nights ago after crying endlessly for the loss of her son...and he remembered it too, only this time it didn't soothe him. Instead he felt tormented by what he had done to her...by what he had done to their family and that even though he was the one who had destroyed them, Dis was still turning to him for comfort.
As he entered the warm waters his wound stung like hell, but he pushed on until he reached one of the small waterfalls and buried himself under it. He let the waters cascade down his voluminous hair and body, washing away the dirt and fatigue of several days after the battle. He was releasing moans of pleasure which were followed by groans of pain, but he hardly heard himself. The burning in his eyes and the tears that got slowly released made him frown in disbelief, still the lump in his throat was too hard to ignore.
He didn't know what he was crying silently about this time. Was it the untimely death of his brother or the torturous ending of his grandfather? Was it the memories of his father loosing his mind slowly and going to his death soon after? Was it maybe the deterioration of his sister's mental health when she lost her husband? Or maybe it was his mother who died of a broken heart when Thorin left to find his lost father. Was it possibly the death of Siv, which tore his soul in two or the death of his beloved nephew? Maybe the combination of them all felt too unbearable to him now that he was home again.
He remained there, silently crying out his trapped emotions, under the waterfall for a long time, trying not to feel angry at himself. Only when his fingertips felt pruned did he reach out for the mineral soaps that were still there after so long. He lathered his abundant hair and soaped his body well and good. Then he settled under the waterfall again waiting for the warm water to cleanse him inside out as his eyes slowly dried.
When Eilin entered the huge, impressive cavern and stopped in front of the lake stupefied, he didn't even hear her. His eyes were shut tight and the water's speed felt like soft whips on his warm skin. Ever so slightly painful, but not enough to make him want to get out.
"Ahem." She cleared her throat and averted her eyes from the King. It was one thing to help the Princess clean him up when he was an invalid and another to peep at his half naked body while he was taking a bath.
He frowned and opened his eyes. He saw her faint outline behind the water curtain and instantly his body straightened up. She was standing there holding his clothes, looking at her shoes shyly. He wiped away his eyes and felt his fingertips way too spongy and her appearance there way too impromptu.
"What are you doing here?" He frowned.
"My King, Lord Dwalin asked me to bring you some fresh clothes." She said quietly.
"Where is he?" Thorin asked and suddenly felt very aware that he was stark naked under these waters and there was a woman right in front of him, waiting for him to get out.
"Master Dain asked for his assistance. He told me to bring you over the clothes. He said he would come find you immediately after he finishes with Lord Dain." She cleared her throat again.
"Oin? Did you notify him?" He moved a couple of steps closer, but kept well under water.
She pressed her lips uneasily. "I tried, but it was impossible to wake him up Sir. It is very late, there is no one awake apart from Lord Dain, Lord Dwalin and you."
He winced and looked around him. Very well and now what? He was alone with this girl as his only possible assistant. In an afterthought he gazed at her quickly. "What about my sister?"
"She's been working on Prince Kili all afternoon. You want me to wake her up?"
"No, no." -He shook his head and his brows creased with uncertainty. Apparently he didn't have any options until Dwalin returned- "Did you perchance remember to bring Oin's concoction for my wound?"
She placed his clothes on a ledge and drew out two bottles, but still she kept looking at her boots. "Both the ointment and your medicine, my Lord."
He pressed his lips and shook his head in relief. "Very well, turn around." He ordered and she quickly went and stood facing the wall with her head bowed low.
The task of drying himself took time and was dearly painful to him, but a mere nothing compared with the difficulty of wearing the lower part of his long jones and pants. When he finished he looked longingly at his undershirt and tunic, but knew that he had to clean his wound and dress it properly. He sat down at one of the carved benches and placed his hands on his knees. "I am done."
She turned around slowly, but kept her eyes religiously to the floor.
"And I need you to look up and help me out with this damned wound. I cannot do it on my own." He frowned angrily at his inability to help himself.
She peeked at him briefly. "As you command Sir."
"Bring over the ointment." He said.
She brought it over, still looking somewhere between his knees and the floor.
He sighed deeply. "I can do the front, but I will need you to apply some of it on my back, if you are able to unglue your eyes from the floor."
"Yes, Sir." She nodded and he frowned when he noticed her teeth worrying her bottom lip nervously.
Oh well, at least he wasn't the only here feeling rather uncomfortable. "If you can find it..." He raised his brow, unable to stop himself from teasing her obvious distress.
A sound that was something between surprise and a hiccup got caught in her throat.
"Give it to me." He offered her his palm and she place the ointment on it quickly.
He looked down at his body and his fingers traced the length of the wound gently. His lips curled down when he saw that it extended from his chest down to his lower stomach. It was fresh and angry, still pulsating vividly with the memory of that cleaver running through it. The Mithril thread glimmered under the orange light of the elegant lamps. Even though his touch was careful, his skin complained mildly at his intrusion, but thankfully no blood was seeping from the seams. Whatever he did to it back at the burial grounds had not been enough to break his stitches again. He applied a generous amount of ointment all around the scar and at the small gaping holes of Oin's rushed stitching. That wound would leave a very nasty scar in its wake, but it could have ended up with claiming his life so he wasn't too concerned about that. When he finished he handed her over the bottle. "There is a smaller scar on my back where the sword exited. Can you apply some medicine there?"
She reached out and took the bottle with visibly trembling hands. "Yes, Sir." Her voice was husky.
He leaned his palms on his knees again and closed his eyes feeling slightly dizzy and definitely sleepy. He wanted to remain awake for as long as he could tonight though. He needed to avoid having another nightmare so close to the previous one, but he was not sure he was going to manage that easily. Just standing there with his eyes closed was able to doze him off as his body yearned for rest. When her cold fingers found his wound, he jerked in objection to the unexpected touch. She stopped and looked up at him. "I am sorry my King." She said under her breath.
"Never mind, just do what you can." He rejoined quietly and closed his eyes again.
Her fingers returned to his pained skin and he winced as she applied the thick medication thoroughly on and around the wound. He exhaled in relief as the original sting slowly numbed away and felt his head swimming once again as her fingers kept on massaging the medicine around the area. Neither realised that her fingers were occupying themselves with that application far longer than it was needed. He on one hand began relaxing under the softness of her fingertips and as for her…she was looking mesmerised at his back tattoo with the Crown of Durin and the seven stars, not even thinking what her hand was doing. When she drew away from him in order to bring over the bandage he didn't open his eyes. With gentle hands she nudged his arms to part and he opened his eyes ever so slightly to see her red locks just under his nose and only then did he notice that she didn't have those braids on her hair anymore. He opened his mouth to commend on that, but on second thought he remained silent.
"Can you hold this end for me my Lord until I can twist it once around your body so it can stay in place?" She said without raising her head to look at him.
He did her bidding and exhaled loudly as she began wrapping the long bandage around his wide body. The scent of flowers at springtime broke free around him once again and he frowned. She smelled of something fresh, clean or maybe untouched. As she worked quickly and effectively, her melodic voice started murmuring a song, much like like she had done before with Durin's Song in his chambers.
"Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall."
His mouth dropped open slightly and suddenly he could hear the blood rushing to his ears in tempo with his heartbeat and became very aware of his surroundings. Her voice was enchanting and even though he wanted to ask her who taught her to sing so well, he also didn't want to stop her. Another turn of the bandage around him and she pulled it tighter offering him ample pain, but he didn't want to move or speak for fear of making her stop.
"To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell."
Then the last twist of the bandage came around to his side and she leaned down in order to tie it down properly. He lifted up his arm slightly, not wanting to assist her in any manner whatsoever at that moment. Even though he should have offered to help her, he creepily enjoyed her working and singing on him. Maybe her songs were some sort of comforting mechanism. His mother used to sing whenever she was concentrated on a task or when she was nervous and sad.
"With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped."
She finished and immediately her singing stopped as she drew respectfully away from him.
His gaze held a tension that she was lucky to miss as she was looking at her hands. "You forgot the last verse." The hoarseness of his voice reminded her.
"We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!"
When her crystalline voice finished the song, she pulled two more steps back just for safe measure. Her eyes kept looking at her fingers that had twisted painfully hard in front of her vest. She held her breath for what seemed like a lifetime until he addressed her once more.
"Who taught you how to sing?" His voice was quiet and he didn't seem disturbed by what she had done.
"No one my King."
His eyebrows twitched in confusion, but his voice held a faint tease. "You just began singing one morning exactly like this?"
She felt her lips twisting uncomfortably. "No, the lady of the tavern I was working at loved singing about Elves, Dwarves, Men and Hobbits for the enjoyment of the customers. I picked up a lot from her".
"You don't seem embarrassed to sing in front of others." He noticed.
She shook her head. "It was part of my job."
"I am not one of the tavern customers, so I presume you didn't sing to please me..." He continued.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her assertively.
"Why did you feel the need to sing now and why did you sing back in my chambers the other evening?" His head tilted up slightly and his eyes scrutinised her from the top of her ginger head to bottom of her fury boots. His gaze held no embarrassment, just honest interest.
"I usually sing when I am nervous or very happy, my Lord." She curtsied.
"Which of the two ignited your need to sing now?" Came the much feared question.
She pressed her lips and paled. "Nervousness."
He nodded. "I see."
Her eyes looked up fleetingly, but sadly he was looking away. She held her breath as she spoke the next words. "I am sorry if I bothered you, Sir."
"You didn't bother me. You sing beautifully. Yet you must honour us with your singing more often. Not only when you are nervous." Another curious look was cast in her direction before he stood up to take his undergarment and tunic.
She felt her cheeks blazing hot and instantly the need to sing again reappeared, just because he had asked her to do so. "Thank you, Sir."
"And thank you for your assistance. You are a good maiden, Eilin Firebeard." He offered the wall a side smile as he tried to lift up his arm to wear his tunic.
She rushed to take hold of it. "Shall I help you, Sir?" This time her voice sounded more self assured.
His azure stare seared into hers and for several moments no one moved, until he -unexpectedly- was the first one to withdraw his eyes. "Yes hold it for me, I cannot lift this arm."
Without any words she passed the sleeve of his tunic from his left arm without forcing him to move it at all. Then she brought around the opening to his neck, which she passed from his head and then she offered him the opening of the second sleeve. "You don't have to lift it at all, my Lord." Her sweet smile ended up brightening the corners of her eyes.
"Thank you." His voice had grown more vibrant somehow and she felt the change in her spine.
She had to fight the urge to curl inwards for some reason.
He pulled his trapped hair above his garments and they fell heavy and wet at the middle of his back. "You did a good job, but Dwalin shouldn't have woken you up. I won't be needing you for anything else Eilin. You can go to sleep again."
"I should accompany you back to your rooms, Sir." She offered.
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "There is no need. Go to bed."
She bit both lips and bend her knee. "At your orders, my King." She knew this was a clear order and that she couldn't force her company at him so she walked quickly out of the royal hot springs, feeling her mind troubled and her body more awake than it had been in ages. How in the name of Mahal was she going to go back to bed now?
As for Thorin, he remained there musing at her small silhouette walking briskly and the need to keep away from his bed became even more dire for some reason. He could maybe walk around the grounds as slowly as his body allowed him, trying to figure out the extend of the damage it had after so many years of emptiness. Maybe he could try to remember how to get from one place to another and visit the areas that he didn't used to visit much when he was a Prince here. He could also check the furnaces to see what Fili had done for them and maybe even visit the treasure vaults.
A devilish smirk appeared on his lips.
Yes, maybe he should visit the immeasurable treasure of his Kingdom in order to throw that damned Raven Crown in there and hopefully let it get lost. With a clouded countenance he lifted up the bottle and drank Oin's disgusting concoction, but all his thoughts halted abruptly when he remembered the forging stations. He could actually visit them, pick an anvil and forge all the problems out of his system. Eilin Firebeard was singing her troubles away and he was good at hammering his through fire and steel.
Anything would do, anything to keep him from falling asleep at that moment. He didn't want a revisit from Siv tonight. He preferred to have this girl's voice in his ears instead, a hammer in his hand and the heat of a blazing fire on his back.
Α/Ν:
- Farewell Song of the Elves (Songs and tales from J.R.R. Tolkien's work.)
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