A/N: There be angst and self-deprication ahead.

Disclaimer: No ownership claimed. No profit garnered.

Chapter 4: Tortured Thoughts

I do not know exactly how I make it home as I register nothing in my frantic flight until I am tearing through the front door. I'm vaguely aware that I am alone in the house; Mum isn't back yet, thankfully. I run into the room I share with my oh-so-perfect brother. Slamming the door, I yank off my boots and throw myself on the bed trying to hide from my shame.

My head pounds as my heart races, the blood drumming in my ears and I can feel the flush in my cheeks. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I try to suck in air; my chest tightening as if to suffocate me. At last I manage to draw air into my burning lungs but it turns into heaving sobs as tears stream unchecked down my cheeks. I have no words to describe the devastation I feel. There is a great weight is pushing down on me, threatening to crush me.

I can still hear their laughter, their voices mocking me, and those words: no beard...too tall...small nose... half-elf...elf spawn... running incessantly through my mind. I feel humiliated, betrayed, and rejected as I have many times before. Only I am no longer a dwarfling and cannot understand why these words still try to shread my gut.

Then my mind adds its own litany:...stupid...reckless...disappointment...worthless.

Then I know. That's why Thorin didn't take me today. He knows I don't need to learn trade negotiations because I'm not a real dwarf. I'll never be a leader- no one will follow me. They said so.

Or is he just too ashamed of me? He is, after all, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, albeit in exile. He's proud, respected, majestic. His words carry weight. He is a hero and the leader to the displaced of Ered Luin. Yet, what am I, a mistake...a misfit...an accident?

Thorin should have never let him draw breath. Those words, full of poison and vitriol, rip through my gut again. Is that what everyone thinks?... Does Thorin know they think this?... Does Thorin think this, too? Is he sorry I'm alive?

I know the story of my birth. Mum had gone into labor two months early when she learned Da had been killed in an orc raid outside the village. It was a terrible night with a violent storm and life disrupted by the day's battle. Oin had told Mum and Uncle that it was too early for her to deliver; but he couldn't stop the labor. When I was born I didn't cry. I didn't even breathe. Oin told Mum and Uncle Thorin there was nothing he could do. I was too little. He said even if I lived, I would not survive the cold Ered Luin winter. He had wrapped me in a blanket and laid me aside then returned to care for Mum who was having complications. But it wasn't over yet.

Fili had wanted a baby brother so badly. When Oin had called Uncle into the room, Fili had slipped in also. At only five, he couldn't understand why his Da had gone and now his brother had gone to be with Da, too. They had let him hold me; it wasn't as if he could hurt me. He unwrapped the blankets for a better look at the little brother he had hoped to play with, exposing my naked skin to the cold air. They hadn't even cleaned the fluid and blood from my small body, so Fili wiped me with the blankets, rubbing my back up and down over and over, talking to me, and begging me not to leave. Finally I gasped, then cried.

Had they known from looking at me when I was born that I didn't look like a dwarf? Was it a conscious decision not to fight for my life? Was Thorin sorry he'd let Fili hold me? Is he sorry now?

Maybe it's no wonder that Thorin is never pleased with what I do. I couldn't even be born right. I have been an embarrassment to him from the day I was born.

There are so many unanswered questions swirling around my mind until I can't even think, so I cry and sob until I have no more tears and my throat is raw. My breath hitches in my throat and my sides ache from the exertion. Oh, Mahal, now even I wish Fili had never held me.

It is with that dark thought that I finally allow myself to slip into the darkness of exhausted sleep, the only way I can escape my thoughts.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry it's short, but I can write only so much angst at a time. Let me know what you think.

Just for reference, since dwarrows age differently from humans, pregnancy should last longer. I equate 2 months early to about 34 - 35 weeks human gestation.