I'm back! Sorry about the ridiculous wait again – I've finished my first year of studies, moved out of uni accommodation, spent a few days in London and celebrated my 19th birthday, so I've barely had time to think about writing! But, here it is, the next chapter!
I have a huge thank you to make to everyone who reviewed, especially the guests, to whom I can't reply directly including Lindsey (yes, I am a HUGE Brother Bear fan), Hermione Granger (thank you so much!) and the unnamed guest who reviewed almost every chapter :) Thank you, it means so, so much that you're all still enjoying it!
Right, on with the chapter. Please forgive any mistakes I make :D
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Eighty Five # Night of the Restless #
The sun was sinking over the horizon, but despite the fact that he usually loved such colourful, rosy sunsets Bilbo could think of nothing but blood spilling through the clouds. For the first time in years he had hoisted himself up into a tree and perched on a branch alone. He needed to think – to clear his mind and try and shake the horrible feeling that Kíli was lying to him.
He wished that he could have gone further. He had to go back – he knew that he had to go back. It was dangerous to stay out alone, and a bad example for the little ones, but Bilbo could not bring himself to head back just yet. He was tired, so tired, and there was a little bit of peace here.
And then just like that there was no peace whatsoever – only a slobbery foot and a screaming hobbit tumbling out of a tree and through the air to the ground below. He landed with a thump on his backside and was immediately set upon by one of their wolves. However, the moment Bilbo's churning stomach drew out a scream, the wolf backed away and lay down, placing his chin on his paws.
"Bilbo! Bilbo!"
"I'm alright, I'm alright!" Bilbo called breathlessly as Kíli came crashing into view.
"Thank Mahal," Kíli breathed, offering Bilbo his hand. The dwarf was smiling now, but his eyes betrayed his terror – terror that delivered Bilbo yet another stab to his heart.
Standing up, Bilbo brushed himself off. "I just fell out of the tree. I hope I didn't wake anyone…"
Kíli winced. "Well, you were a little loud, and…"
"Oh, no…" Bilbo groaned, spotting a frightened, white faced little boy peeking out from behind a tree nearer to the campsite. After clamping a hand on Kíli's arm for a moment he hastened towards a pale, trembling Frodo.
"Uncle Bilbo, what's wrong?" he asked in a trembling voice, stretching his arms up.
"Nothing's wrong," Bilbo lifted Frodo into his arms and planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. "I'm sorry I woke you. I just fell out of a tree."
"A tree?" Frodo frowned, rubbing his eyes. "What were you doing in a tree?"
"Just thinking," Bilbo smiled, knowing that he was doing a much better job of hiding his worry than Kíli ever did. "I'm sorry, Frodo."
The boy sighed, his eyes holding more worry than Bilbo wanted to see. "I'm just glad that you're alright."
"Don't worry about me," Bilbo brushed a lock of Frodo's hair away from the boy's face. "It's alright… Everything's going to be fine."
Frodo glanced down, fiddling with Bilbo's buttons. "You're really alright?"
"Really-really," Bilbo nodded. "Let's get you back to bed…"
The child's hands tightened around Bilbo's collar. "But I won't be able to sleep!"
"Of course you will," Bilbo promised, reaching the camp site. Thankfully none of the others had been woken by his unfortunate fall, though Fíli was watching him from where he sat on watch.
"Won't," protested Frodo, tightening his grip on his uncle as they reached his bedroll. "I won't, I won't, I won't!"
"Shh, shh," Bilbo crouched down, but Frodo would not let go. "Alright, alright…"
When it became clear that Frodo would not sleep on his own, Bilbo went back to his own bed role and lowered himself down to the floor, allowing the little boy to snuggle up against him.
"If you can't sleep, we'll just have to lie here not sleeping together then."
Frodo was quiet for a long moment, and then he mumbled. "Thank you, Uncle Bilbo."
"You're welcome, little one," Bilbo whispered. "Now, how about I tell you a story?"
"Yes, please."
"Once upon a time there was a little boy named Taran, who lived in the woods of a magical land with an enchanter. His job was to look after a special pig – a magic pig – Hen Wen. The land was a wonderful place, but it was under the influence of the evil Horned King…"
By the time Bilbo had finished his story, Frodo's eyes were drooping.
"That's a…" he yawned. "Good story…"
"I'm glad you think so," Bilbo murmured. "Go to sleep now, Frodo. I'm here, I've got you, and we're all safe."
Slowly, Frodo's body relaxed as he let go and slipped into sleep. Bilbo sighed. He was not going to get away tonight – not with Frodo's arms locked around his neck so tightly. So Bilbo closed his eyes, gave a sigh and drifted into a restless sleep.
Nights in Erebor could get very dark. Sometimes moonlight would filter through some of the skylights, but when the sun went down the torches were dimmed and it was easy enough to slip unseen through the kingdom's softly beating heart.
Hood pulled far over his face, he walked towards the places where most of the families resided. There was a million problems in his life but tonight he would only focus on one. He only had one goal tonight.
A cat padded across the road in front of him, a pet of one of the families he supposed. It stared at him for a moment, with eyes that glowed in the dim light. He shooed it out of the way and continued, nodding silently to the guard pacing the square ahead. As soon as he raised his hood a little the guard let him go on his way unchecked.
After nodding his thanks he headed towards the less densely populated areas. When he passed by the training ground, however, he heard something odd.
At such an hour the arena that the majority of the population used for practising weaponry should be abandoned, but the dull thud of fists pumping into a dummy was clearly audible. He slipped through the open door and allowed his eyes to adjust to the increased light. The torches bracketed to the walls had been lit, offering him a clear view of a familiar figure pummelling a sparring dummy into oblivion.
Dori's usually neat braids were so dishevelled they were already half out, and his beetroot red face was shining with sweat and what looked like tears. It was hard to tell at such a distance.
Stepping into the arena, Thorin removed his hood.
"Good evening, Dori."
The dwarf jumped and whirled around, staring at Thorin with wide eyes. After a moment he collected himself, cleared his throat and bowed. "Good evening! What… what brings you here?"
Thorin inclined his head slightly. "I could not sleep."
Dori sighed heavily. "Me either."
"Is something troubling you?"
"Oh, it's nothing, nothing at all…" Dori fussed, but Thorin was not taking no for an answer.
"Dori, if there is something preying on your mind I would have you tell me. If there is anything I can do to ease your discomfort…"
"No, no, no, there's nothing you can do!" protested his friend. "There's nothing anyone can do. That's the problem."
Trying to channel his sister's – or even his nephews' – sympathetic abilities, Thorin spoke. "Do you wish to talk about it?"
Dori shook his head, but he spoke anyway. "I'm just worried, Thorin. I know, I know I'm worried a lot, but more than usual! About Nori. Bofur, the lads. And Dana and Gimli, Bombur's family, all of them! They have no idea what's gone on here and it's a perilous world on a regular day. So many have left for Erebor and I fear for those who'll never make it here."
"As do I." Thorin admitted. "Often."
"I've been doing everything I can to help," Dori continued. "Anything, but it's not enough. Not enough to matter, even to people here…"
Thorin was confused. "You have made a difference to those-"
"We lost Nina this evening."
Thorin's heart sank. He knew Nina rather well for having never met her – Dori spoke of her often as his saving grace, the woman who had stepped in to help him raise Nori and Ori when he found himself parentless and homeless. "I'm sorry, Dori."
"Ori's locked himself in his room," Dori went on, his voice trembling. "He won't come out. He was so young when he lost his mother that he scarce remembers her, but Nina… Nina was there every step of the way. She taught him to knit, to read, to write… She was the closest thing to a mother he ever had, and an infection – an infection – took her away from us."
Thorin put a hand on Dori's shoulder.
His friend took a deep, shuddering breath and then continued. "She was even more precious to Nori. He never lied to her, not once. Not even a white lie. Most would ignore Nori or even scorn him, especially when he acted up, even me. She treated him exactly the same as she treated Ori, no matter what he did. She loved him no matter what and he knew it – he believed her with a trust he'd never place in me. She took care of him. He wouldn't even steal from her, not even when he was at his worst. He'd send letters to her house for her and Ori if he was avoiding me. He always let her know where he was." It was the next three words that broke Thorin's heart and the dam of Dori's tears. "He doesn't know."
"I'm so sorry," Thorin murmured again, squeezing Dori's shoulder gently.
Dori shook his head and sobbed. "I did all I could, all Óin told me to do and it wasn't enough."
"I'm sorry," Thorin repeated, though he did not think it was doing much good. It never did much good. "It is not your fault, Dori."
"I know, I know," Dori wiped the tears from his eyes with a shaking sigh. "I'm going to miss her."
"I know."
"Thorin, if I lose Nori too-"
"You won't." Thorin said firmly. "Of this I am certain. He is clever, cunning and brave, and he has Bofur, my sister and nephews and Bilbo watching his back."
"Unless Kíli is staying in the Shire."
Thorin was silent.
After a long moment, Dori sighed. "I'm sorry, Thorin. I just…don't know what to do."
"Do not apologise, Dori," Thorin said. "I fear it too. You deserve some rest, my friend, you've-"
"I do not need to rest!" he insisted viciously, before slumping. "Forgive me, Thorin I just… I cannot rest. I have to do something, I have to have something to do, someone to care for! I have to do something!"
"I think I understand…" Thorin took a deep breath. "For almost a century now I've taken walks like this, every few weeks or months… whenever I see fit. I began two days after I lost my entire family in one fell swoop, save my sister."
"Azanulbizar," Dori murmured.
"Aye. So, I walk around, make sure all is well. I just walk and walk until it is almost dawn, and then I return to my chambers, sleep for an hour and then act as though nothing had happened. And I have never told a soul. I don't know why. I suppose when you keep something to yourself for almost a century it seems like nobody else's business. If you need something to do, I could find something for you."
Dori swallowed, and his voice was soft. "I would appreciate it."
"Very well," Thorin smiled sadly. "I think I have just the task for you. Return to your quarters. Get some sleep. Then meet me at noon tomorrow in the Company Room."
The smallest hint of a weary smile cracked across Dori's face. "Thank you, Thorin."
Thorin simply inclined his head and motioned towards the door. He wanted to make sure that Dori reached his quarters – he would not put it past the mother-hen of a dwarf to return to the training arena or even to take on a patrol akin to Thorin's own.
When he heard the soft click of Dori locking his door, Thorin returned to his own quarters and prepared himself for bed. Fatigue had caught up with him and was nipping at his ankles, but Thorin had learnt how to rebuff sleep if necessary many long years ago, and there was something he needed to do before he allowed himself to rest.
The stone was cool and comforting beneath his bare feet as he left his rooms and began to walk down the corridor. He hated walking through the Royal Wing. It was an empty ribcage with many chambers and rooms and no heart to pump life through the walls.
"What're you waiting for, Thorin?" a little voice giggled as his mind conjured an image of his brother before him. It was Frerin as he remembered him in the months before Smaug came – young and carefree and happy. "Let's go!"
His nadadith's laughter chimed through his mind like a music box playing the most sorrowful lullaby ever written and he kept on walking. He had made his peace with the ghosts here. Finally he reached the final door and pushed down on the handle through the layer of soft, sticky dust. It stuck a little, but he managed to ease the door open. What dim light there was in the hall was enough to catch the dust in its frenzied dance as the king walked into a long abandoned room.
Sucking on his thumb, Thorin tiptoed after his mother. He did not want to go to bed. It was dark in his room, and the little candle Uncle Fundin had given him was not enough to chase the orcs away from under his bed. Miraculously, the crown princess did not notice her toddling shadow as she made her way down the hall into a room he had never entered before.
Peeking around the door, Thorin watched his mother light a candle beneath a beautiful tree wrought from some glittering, silvery metal. She knelt down in front of it, and lit two more candles. As the light grew it looked like the metal was melting, or maybe even dancing, in the light.
Soft words began to leave his mother's mouth, words he could neither hear nor understand. Thorin snuck further in and wrapped his arms around his mother's neck. She gasped and turned around, sighing in relief when she saw his face.
"Thorin! You frightened me!"
"Sorry, Amad," he said, returning his thumb to his mouth. "What's here?"
She laughed softly, bringing him onto her lap around the large lump of her stomach. They said there was a baby in there, a brother or sister for Thorin to share his toys with, but he was unconvinced. Babies were very noisy things, and he would have definitely heard it squawking if there was in fact a child in there.
"This, Thorin, is our Matasibrîn. Men might call it a temple, I suppose, but in the words of our kin it is a sacred place to seek answers. It is a room for praying in."
"Praying?" Thorin frowned. "I thought you could do that anywhere."
"You can," his mother nodded. "But if there is something very troubling on your mind, or if you just need some quiet time to tell the Valar something very important, you may come here. And when you are older you may light the candles, too."
"Why, Amad?" he wondered, reaching out to gently touch the tree. "Why do they listen to us?"
She took a moment to think on it. "They created us. Mahal, and Eru. They made this whole world, and they care about it very much. Some people think they do not listen, but I think they do. They're very clever like that."
He had believed her then. She was his mother, she could not be wrong in the eyes of an adoring and adored toddler. Now, he was not so sure, but Thorin had done everything else in his power.
He lit the candles and knelt beneath the tree he now knew to be pure mithril. Then he took a deep breath and began to speak in Khuzdul, allowing the vulnerability and fear he felt to spill into his tone in a way they never could among even his closest family.
"Mahal, father of us all, Eru, granter of life, please hear my prayer. Return my nephews and their companions safely. Please, please, please just bring them home. They're like the sons I might have known, if it were your will that I might have sons, but summers die one by one. Oh, how soon they fly on and on, and I am growing old and will one day be gone. Please, bring them peace. Bring them joy. They are young, oh they are still only boys. You can take, you can give, but let them be. Let them live. If I die, let me die! Let me die. Let them live. Bring them home. Bring them home. Please… bring them home."
Fíli stirred up the embers of the fire and watched them scatter among the stars. It felt like forever since he had left Bag End, and it felt as though it was another lifetime when he had been in the Blue Mountains. When he had a home.
Mirkwood was finally within their sight, and while Fíli was still not overly fond of the forest he could not wait to reach it. He just wanted the journey to be over. He wanted it all to be done.
The bushes rustled quietly and his mother appeared, smiling at him as she stepped into their cramped campsite.
"All's clear," Dís murmured, pausing for a moment before crossing past the fire to sit by her son's side. She took his hand and began turning it over in hers, rubbing little circles into his hand with her thumb. "Talk to me, Fíli."
He raised his eyebrows. "About what?"
"Whatever is making those cogs in your head turn with such desperate ferocity," she flicked his forehead, continuing to circle her thumb around his hand. "Talk to me."
Fíli sighed heavily. "I am weary of travelling, Amad. I want to rest. To lie on a bed and know it is mine. To rest my head on a pillow that is meant for me…"
"Ah, Fíli," Dís threw her arm over his shoulder and drew him close. "My dear Fíli. I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" he frowned. "What for?"
"This is not the life I would have chosen for you."
Fíli smiled wryly and lent into her side. "Ah, don't be silly. It's not your fault."
She smiled and pushed his hair back away from his forehead. "How have I managed to raise such a wonderful child?"
"Well, it clearly has to do with my father's blood." He teased. "Couldn't have come from your side of the family."
She laughed softly, taking care not to wake those slumbering around them. "No, it couldn't. It's a wonder you're as soft as you are, having been around Thorin so much…"
"You're still angry at him."
Dís stiffened and sighed. "Aye, I am."
"Well, you should-" a wolf's sharp howl interrupted Fíli's thoughts and he leapt to his feet.
The two male wolves slumbering nearby leapt to their feet and howled. Denahi sprang away in the direction of the howl, while Koda ran straight to the pile of dwarflings and baby hobbits in the middle of their camp. Within in instant the camp was awake and in turmoil, with a dozen children making their fear, confusion and sleepiness known.
Fíli was on his feet with his hand on the hilt of his sword within the span of a heartbeat, and Koda quickly howled, to which there came the response of two more howls, and Denahi, Kenai and Lani returned. The female wolf had a sheepish, somewhat shaken hobbit hanging from her mouth.
"Nelly!" Ellie managed to sound appalled despite her obvious exhaustion. "What on earth were you doing?"
"I needed the toilet!" the girl insisted, her feet kicking absently through the air as she was suspended by the neck of her tunic. "And then I found some really pretty pebbles so I started to look for some more and got a little tiny bit lost and then Lani came and found me but she didn't know it was me and she howled loudly and then she realised it was me and brought me back."
There was a collective groan at the false alarm, and Fíli sank back down to the ground as Ellie and Paladin began scolding their daughter. He would almost have preferred if the wolves had discovered something mildly dangerous – at least they would have had a good reason to be grumpy and sleep-deprived in the morning. Instead, Nelly was likely to be somewhat snubbed come the morning, which would make her all the more irritable herself.
"Fee…"
He looked up at his brother. Kíli was smiling wearily down at him, Luno curled around his legs.
"Let me take over your watch. You're exhausted."
"I'm fine," Fíli replied, grinning slightly. "I've kept watch with much less energy than this before."
Kíli hesitated.
"What is it?"
"May I watch with you? Like old times?" the younger dwarf smiled wistfully.
Fíli grinned and patted the log next to him. "Of course. Just like old times, eh?"
Dís watched with a wry smile as her sons began chatting to each other so quietly that she doubted even Bilbo could hear with his sharp ears. She returned silently to her bedroll and allowed herself to drift off, and her dreams were of her children dancing in the skeletal remains of the home she lost, injecting the life back through the veins of the kingdom, and of the laughter of hobbits restarting the beat of its long dormant heart.
And here I leave you. The next chapter should be up relatively soon, I hope you enjoyed this one! Do let me know what you think, and if you know the song that Thorin's prayer was heavily, heavily inspired by ;)
Thanks for reading :D
