Disclaimer: The Hobbit does not belong to me, but to Professor Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and his Company.

Gem of His Heart

Kili shifted from one foot to another. "Perhaps we should tell him we know."

"No, Kili, it is not our place," Fili responded adamantly. "Thorin will tell us when he is ready, and we will support him in what he decides. Mother would expect that of us."

"Aye, she would," Kili admitted.

"Come, Kili, our wives are waiting for us. It is time for dinner, and I promised the boys I would play a game with them. We will check on Thorin in a bit and take him back to speak with Drifa."

Chapter 13

Thorin stared at the ceiling above his bed on the hall of the healers'. Exhaustion tugged at him relentlessly, but he could not help but think of Drifa suffering the loss of their child alone. He had already begun to love the child he thought he'd had, had dreamed of meeting this unknown heir. But now those hopes had been dashed; the child had never been born.

Thorin was surprised to find that a lump had formed in his throat. He swallowed hard and forced himself to think of the two boys he did have. Fili and Kili had brought him great joy, and they were more like his own children than sister-sons. He could not have been blessed with a better heir to the throne than Fili. Yes, he dearly loved the boys. They were his children in every way that mattered. Should he and Drifa manage to work things out between them, he would certainly share the boys with her.

Drifa. It seemed as if both of them believed something different about the other. Why had Drifa been told a lie? Why had she been sent away? He'd had nothing to do with it; back then he had been madly in love with her. There was still a part of her embedded deep within his heart. Anger surged through him at the thought that Thror and Thrain had somehow found out about his relationship with Drifa and sent her away. If that was the case, they had not even given him a chance to speak for himself and the woman he loved. It was the ultimate betrayal.

The idea made sense, though. His father and grandfather would never have condoned a marriage between Thorin and a common servant. Why hadn't he realized this before now? He should have known that Drifa would never just give up on him because it would be difficult for them to be together. She was too loyal for that. Things fell into place. Thorin roared in anger and pushed painfully to a sitting position before grabbing a tankard from the bedside table and throwing it against the wall.

When one of the healers entered the room to check on the dwarf king, Thorin was waiting. "Take me to Drifa," he ordered, the tone of his voice leaving no question that it was a command. The healer nodded and retrieved the wheeled chair. Helping Thorin into it, he wheeled the dwarf king down the hall.

The healer knocked on Drifa's door, but there was no response. He pushed it open and peered inside. "She is asleep, My King."

"I will sit at her bedside and wait for her to wake up," Thorin told him with a determined set to his jaw and his blue eyes flashing.

The healer positioned Thorin's chair next to Drifa's bed and built up the fire before turning back to Thorin. "I will be just down the hall, Your Majesty. Please call if you need anything."

Thorin nodded. "Thank you." He waited until the healer left the room and closed the door behind him before turning his attention to the pale woman on the bed. Drifa's hair was tangled with sweat from her fever. Her cheeks were still an unnatural shade of red while her skin was pale from illness. She was so strong, he mused. She had been exiled from her home even before Smaug had arrived by his own father and grandfather, and he had been too blinded by his own pain to see it. Guilt gnawed at him.

He reached out with gentle fingers and traced a soft pattern on the back of her hand that rested close to him on top of the blanket. Drifa did not stir. "I am so sorry, Drifa," he murmured into the quiet of the room, "so very sorry."

Drifa woke to the sound of soft snores and the warmth of a hand closed around hers. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times before the room came into focus. "Thorin?" she called out in surprise.

The dwarf king's eyes blinked open and he squeezed her hand tenderly.

"What are you doing here? How long did I sleep? I thought you were not coming back to talk until later this evening," Drifa told him, using her free hand to rub at her eyes.

"Everything is my fault, Drifa," Thorin found himself saying. "I should have known you would not have given up on me so easily and left without saying goodbye. It did not make sense at the time, but I felt betrayed and hurt. Why did I not question things further? I should have searched for you, but instead I nursed my wounded heart and my injured pride. I am so sorry, Drifa." Tears formed in his blue eyes, but they did not fall. He stared at her earnestly, looking deep into her green gaze.

"Thorin," she began softly, "I did not want to believe your father and grandfather at first, but then when I saw you greet that carriage and the woman of high society I decided that they must have been telling the truth. I could have just as easily have confronted you before leaving. I believe the blame lies on both of us."

"And on the shoulders of my father and grandfather," Thorin told her bitterly, although he knew what they had done was out of concern for him and their kingdom. "Can you ever forgive me, Drifa?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I forgive you, Thorin. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" Drifa felt her eyes filling with tears.

"Aye," he whispered, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest when Drifa leaned forward and wrapped him in her arms. Sobs shook her body and she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Thorin held her as tightly as his sore ribs would allow, his own tears spilling down his cheeks and into Drifa's blonde hair.

Thorin could not say how long he held her, but he pulled back when he became aware of the heat radiating off of her body. She was burning with fever once again. "You need to rest," he murmured.

She nodded and released him with a trembling sigh. "I am glad that there are no misconceptions between us now. I can go back to the Iron Hills at peace." A small smile curved her lips.

Thorin's stomach dropped. As soon as Drifa was well, she would be leaving Erebor. The idea twisted like a knife in his gut. He wanted to ask her to stay, but instead he found himself saying, "I will ask the healer to prepare a tea for your fever."

"Thank you, Thorin," she yawned.

He called for the healer who immediately brewed a strong tea for Drifa and then returned the dwarf king to his bed. Thorin tried to focus on thoughts of the conversation he'd just had with Drifa, but his body was too battered and tired to allow him to stay awake any longer. His eyes drifted close and he was soon deep in slumber.

Late that evening, Fili climbed beneath the sheets of his bed and sighed. His mind whirled with many thoughts, and he knew it would not let him rest although he was exhausted.

Next to him, Sigrid nuzzled his cheek. "Welcome to bed, love," she murmured before trailing kisses down the line of his jaw. "I missed you today." Her hand crept across his bare chest, caressing his warm flesh. When he didn't respond to her advances, she pushed up on one elbow and regarded him with concern. "Fili, what is it? Are you all right?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Sigrid." He reached for her and drew her close against his chest. She settled her head over his heart and allowed him to stroke her hair tenderly. "I suppose I've been thinking a lot about Uncle and Drifa."

"Thorin must have been devastated when Drifa left him," Sigrid murmured into the semi-darkness of their room. The only light came from the fire flickering in the fireplace.

"That is not all, Sigrid, but you must promise you will not speak a word of what I tell you to anyone." He let go of her and sat up against the headboard.

Sigrid followed his example. "Of course, Fili, you have my word." Her eyes filled with worry and she reached for her husband's large, warm hand, clasping it between her own much smaller ones.

"Thorin fathered a child with Drifa, but he has only just discovered the news," he nearly whispered into the quiet of their room.

Sigrid's eyes widened. "He never knew?" she gasped.

"No." Fili brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

"That's so sad," she murmured. "Did Thorin tell you about the child? Is it a son or a daughter?"

"Thorin doesn't realize that we know, Sigrid. He mentioned it to Kili when he was ill and out of his head with fever. That is why you must not tell anyone."

She nodded and then realization seemed to dawn on her. "This means that you are not next in line for the throne."

He sighed. "I feel selfish and childish even thinking of it, but I was raised to be king, Sig. I don't know who I am if I am not Thorin's heir. All my life that is what my mother and Thorin groomed me to be."

"Not to mention Thorin is like your father," she said softly as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Yes, but now he truly has a child of his own." Fili pressed a kiss into his wife's hair. "I suppose there is no point in worrying about it. If there really is a child, then he deserves Thorin's throne. It rightfully belongs to him, and I will support his rule in any way that I can."

"I love you, Fili," Sigrid sighed. "You are an amazing man, and I will help you figure this out. We will get through it together."

Fili took his wife in his arms and pressed his face into her soft hair that smelled of lavender. "I just need to hold you tonight, Sigrid."

"And you shall, my love," she promised him as they slid down beneath the sheets.

Early the next morning, Kili knocked at the door to his uncle's sickroom before poking his head inside. "Good morning, Uncle Thorin."

"Kili," Thorin greeted as he finished the last bite of his breakfast. "You are just in time, lad. You can help me into my chair and take me to see Drifa."

Kili nodded and stepped into the room, closing the door carefully behind him. Perhaps this was a chance to speak to Uncle about the child, the throne, and Fili. He hated to go against his brother's wishes, but this was for Fili's own good.

"Uncle," he began hesitantly as he sank into the chair next to the bed.

Thorin quirked an eyebrow at him. He could sense the anxiety flowing off of Kili in waves. He'd known this boy since he was born, and it was very rare that Kili was hesitant about anything. That set of warning bells in his head. "Whatever you have to say, Kili, just say it," he stated.

Picking at a thread on the bottom of his tunic, Kili blurted, "I know about the child. You mentioned it when you were delirious with fever."

Thorin's eyes widened a bit in surprise, but then he quickly schooled his features.

"I've told no one but Fili," Kili hastily assured him.

"And what is it I told you exactly?" Thorin asked, his brow creased as he tried to remember anything about the incident.

"You said…you asked Drifa where your child was," Kili told him, his dark eyes meeting his Uncle's gaze.

Thorin nodded sadly, but did not say anything.

"But what about Fili?" Kili burst out anxiously. "He has been raised as your heir and groomed to be king from the time he was born."

"Ah," Thorin nodded. "You are bringing this up for Fili's sake." He knew that Kili would do anything for his big brother.

"He didn't ask me to," Kili protested. "He even told me not to say anything to you, that you would tell us about your child when you were ready."

The dwarf king nodded. "That is true, but I believe it is time I share the story with you and your brother. Have someone send for Fili," Thorin instructed his youngest sister-son.

Kili wasted no time in sending for his brother before returning to the chair at his uncle's bedside. "Have I angered you, Uncle?" he asked a bit nervously.

"No, Kili," Thorin assured him. "You were only concerned for your brother out of love. You have not used the information I shared with you out of spite or anger."

His nephew nodded. "Thank you, Uncle."

Fili arrived a few moments later slightly out of breath. "Are you all right, Uncle?" he asked. "Has your fever returned?"

"I am fine, Fili," Thorin assured him. "Take a seat. There is something I wish to tell both you and your brother."

Fili exchanged a quick glance with Kili as he pulled a chair over next to Thorin's bed and sat down.

"You know about the child Drifa was carrying," Thorin stated.

"Kili!" Fili turned immediately to his brother, his eyes sparking with anger. "I told you that it was Uncle's business."

"Fili," Thorin interrupted, "your brother only came to me out of concern for you, and I am not angry." He waited until he had the blonde dwarf's full attention once again. "It is true that Drifa was pregnant with my child when she left Erebor," Thorin stated, his heart aching as he once again thought of Drifa being all alone and scared.

The brothers nodded, quiet now with their eyes trained on their uncle.

"She lost the babe on the treacherous journey to the Iron Hills," Thorin told them quietly, his gaze focused on a place on the wall behind him.

"Uncle," Fili breathed, "that is terrible."

"Aye, Uncle," Kili agreed. "I am so sorry. I never wanted….I mean…"

"I know, Kili," Thorin assured his youngest heir. "I admit that I was excited at the idea of having a child of my own, but then I realized that I already have two sons in you boys. I am only sorry for Drifa having to suffer the loss of our child alone, and I am mourning for what could have been."

"I am sorry for your loss, Uncle," Fili murmured quietly. He thought of Sigrid and how awful it would be if she lost a babe and the sense of loss they would both feel.

Kili slipped out of his chair and knelt at Thorin's bedside, reaching out to take his uncle's hand. "I would have supported him, you know, had he been king. Fili and I both would have been loyal to him, even if it meant my brother was not your heir."

"I know, Kili," Thorin smiled, ruffling the already mussed hair of his youngest sister-son. "Now, will you help me into my wheeled chair so that I may check on Drifa? Her fever was quite high last night when I last saw her."

"Certainly, Uncle," Kili assured him as he pushed hurriedly to his feet.

Fili retrieved the chair from the corner and both boys helped their uncle into it before wheeling him down the hall to Drifa's room.

To Be Continued…

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