Terribly sorry for the long update, but I have been as busy as hell, so... This chapter is half bad, half alright. But it is here. Also, this will be ending soon - four more chapters and then it's done. So I'll try to update quicker.

Chapter 12: To question why

Dis was reclusive the next few days, essentially refusing to speak to anyone, refusing to continue on with life as normal. But she had to, for it was her duty to be the faithful sister, faithful mother and carry on. So she did, as best as she could with the death of the babe still hanging heavily on her mind.

Fili and Kili suffered in silence, unknowing to what had finally befallen the baby that had been taken into their home and neither fully understanding what had caused the gloomy mood of the two prominent adults in their lives, for Thorin's spirits too had been somewhat dampened by the loss. It seemed to weigh on him more than his sister and it showed.

It was several mornings after the fatal night and Thorin, as usual, had retreated to the forges in an attempt to escape the overwhelming memory of the unmoving body as pale as death itself. Dis, as usual, remained in the house, though she mostly sat upon the chair in front of the fireplace, crying on the inside for the loss. There was nothing better she could think of to do, for she had finished all the housework the previous day, having been trying to busy herself so she did not have the time to focus on the loss.

Dis sighed and closed her eyes, trying to ward off the images that were continually flooding her mind. A crash in the next room over caused her eyes to fly opened.

"Fili, Kili, what are you doing?" she cried as she burst through the interconnecting doorway to the room where her two sons were stationed.

The two boys were standing somewhat sheepishly in front of a stack of overturned wooden dishes on the floor. Kili was standing behind his brother, clutching onto the blonde's tunic as the elder fiddled with his hands nervously.

"Who knocked them over?" the dwarfish woman asked with a resigned voice, not really wanting to deal with anything at the moment. Kili peered out from behind his brother.

"Me," he said timidly. Fili opened his mouth straight after to explain.

"We were chasing each other around, and Kili ran into the table. The dished were placed close to the edge, and we didn't mean to knock them off, mother," he said worriedly, not wanting to incur Dis' wrath upon them. Dis just glanced wearily down at them.

"What's done is done," she said in a lethargic voice, "Just be more careful."

The widow felt guilty; she really needed to take her boys outdoors so they could run around properly and burn off their high amounts of energy, but she was just too wrapped up in her grief to actually do so.

Dis slowly picked up the dishes strewn across the floor, a small wave of relief flooding through her when she found none were broken. Fili and Kili helped her, their tiny hands placing cups and bowls into her own larger ones. She could not imagine losing them, a life without them, yet she was constantly seeing her two precious children in the place of the nameless babe that had died in her hands, hands which were now brushed by her eldest as he hesitantly passed over a plate, a question clearly on the tip of his tongue.

"What is it?" she asked, seeing the thoughtful look on his face. Kili hovered by his brother's side.

"What happened to the baby?" the older dwarfling asked his mother directly, his small blue eyes taking in his mother's expression, "Because all you and uncle have said is that he left, and neither of you will talk about it, yet you are both acting very sad." The youth's analysis was far from wrong.

Dis sat crossed-legged on the floor, placing her head in her hands as she tried to think of what to tell her sons. Of how she could inform them about yet another death that had occurred in their lives. But, as it turned out, she did not have the need to find the right words for at least one had already guessed.

"He's gone, isn't he, to where father is," Fili said, "You wouldn't be so sad otherwise." It never ceased to amaze her how bright the boy could be, how bright both of them could be when the occasion called for it.

"Aye child," she answered, "He has parted from this world."

Fili looked at his boots, Kili bitting his thumb as he watched the exchange between his brother and mother.

"Why?" the blonde asked, "He was just a baby."

Dis sighed.

"Because that is the way of the world," she replied, taking up both her boys into her arms after a moment's consideration, "He got sick and couldn't get better."

"Then the world is a cruel place."

"Yes," Dis said heavily, "It is indeed a cruel place." And it was, taking young and old alike, widowing wives and orphaning children. Whether it be through war or sickness or just pure coincidences, the consequences were always the same. There was always someone who was left behind that would be hurting.

The dwarfish woman held her two children close, the trio still situated on the floor amongst the last few overturned dishes that had not yet been recovered. The air was thick with a sorrowful theme, grief, regret and sadness all mingled together as one. She would not lose her two sons, Dis resolved, never in a million years no matter what life threw at her or them. And if she could not protect them, then Thorin would. She knew that much as she looked down onto their innocent faces.

"Why?" a small voice asked after a while. Dis looked her youngest in the eye.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, confused as to the brunette's line of thought.

"Why is the world cruel?"

Dis closed her eyes, at a loss for what to say. Such was the nature of children, always questioning, always seeking answers that she didn't want to give. But she wouldn't have it any other way, because it was one of the things that made children so innocent in the world, that made them precious.

"When you grow up," she said, speaking to both of them as they looked up at her with wide eyes, "You will find there are many things in life that will cause you sorrow and grief." She paused for a breath. "You will find, as the years pass, that there will be many more deaths in your life, many that you will think you could have prevented but could not. And there is no shame in crying over these situations."

"But why does it have to be like that?" Kili whined, his childish naivety showing through. Dis smiled sadly.

"Because it does, little one," she answered softly, running one hand over the back of his head, not having a real answer, "Because it does."

Both boys snuggled against her, Dis pulling them further into their place as they did so.

"You won't go will you, mother?" she heard her eldest asked.

"Not as long as you both don't leave me first," the widow replied, knowing immediately what Fili was referring to.

"We won't leave you," they both promised, and it both warmed and nearly broke Dis' heart at their childish assuredness. There was no way they could know that they would not go before her.

Again the slack and pale face of the baby materialised in front of her eyes. Closing them, Dis just held her children all the more tighter.

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