Chapter 22
"A Tough Decision"
Birds sang in their nests as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon. The skin-changer's home was quiet as its inhabitants slept; some more peacefully than others. Many of the Dwarves slept in the hay as they had the previous night, others were slumped over the dining table, Gandalf had fallen asleep before the fire across from Calyr, Beorn had retired to his own quarters, and Thorin had slept beside Torshar with his head resting on the bed while holding her hand.
Calyr was the first to stir when he heard the needy stomps of the horse outside. He stretched just as Beorn stepped into the kitchen, "Good morning, Beorn."
"To you as well, Calyr how is the patient this morning?" the skin-changed asked.
"I do not know yet, I have not been to check on her progress." He responded.
"I will put on some coffee and wake the others for breakfast while you see to her." The master suggested with a smile that told Calyr to do as he said.
The Elf man stood and rubbed sleep from his eyes with one hand as the other combed through his slightly tangled chocolate tresses. Once he felt he was presentable he headed straight for the guest room. Slowly, he eased the massive door open and smiled gently at the sight before him; a raven-haired Dwarf lord asleep beside a beautiful moonlight goddess. As rays of the sun began to filter through the window, it caught strands of moon white hair and it made it appear to shimmer; dancing off of her pale skin.
Carefully maneuvering around the exhausted prince, the physician checked Torshar's pulse at her neck, felt her heart and lungs, and finally checked her injuries. The wounds on her upper arms were closed but the one in the center of her chest seemed to have gotten worse. Sighing, he took some salve he had made in the night and gently applied it then changed the bandages. Deciding to let Thorin sleep, Calyr retrieved a light blanket from the window seat and laid it over his shoulders then closed the drapes slightly so the sunlight wouldn't disturb either of them.
After quietly closing the door behind him, the healer returned to find the Dwarves, Hobbit, and wizard awake and being fed breakfast around the table.
Gandalf was the first to take notice of the Elf, "Ah, Calyr! How does your patient fair this morning?"
Sighing as he took an empty seat, "I will be honest… It does not look well… The wound in her chest seems to be agitated by something but I do not know by what yet. She has also not regained consciousness which worries me greatly. Normally, with the herbs I use my patients usually wake the next day; at least for a few minutes or so."
"Are you saying that she is dying?" Dwalin asked with a tinge of worry in his voice.
"I am not jumping to any conclusions right now… But it is a possibility…"
"NO!" an angry voice spoke up, making everyone turn to find Thorin standing near the entrance to the dining area; stern expression on his face, "I refuse to accept that! Torshar is going to live!"
Calyr slowly stood from his chair, "No one is saying that Lady Torshar is, for a fact, dying Thorin… It is merely my opinion that all options and scenarios should be considered."
The warrior prince appeared conflicted, "She can't be…" Gandalf cautiously approached and guided him to an open seat as Beorn poured him a mug of fresh milk.
After a few minutes of silence past Beorn finally spoke up, "Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you? Since you have taken refuge in my home, I deserve to know."
"You know of Azog… How?" the prince asked respectfully.
"My people were the first to live in the mountains… Before the Orcs came down from the North. The Defiler killed most of my family… But some he enslaved. Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him…" the massive man explained as he moved around the table.
Bilbo cautiously spoke up, "There were others like you?"
"Once there were many. Now there is only one." He answered with a hint of sorrow in his voice as he sat down in his own chair, "You need to reach the Mountain before the last days of autumn."
The wizard confirmed, "Before Durin's Day, yes."
"You are running out of time."
"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood." Calyr finally threw his two cents in, "A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and a, supposed, Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there, except in great need." the Elf warned.
But the gray bearded man was persistent, "We'll take the Elven Road, they're path is still safe."
This made their host skeptical, "'Safe'? The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They are less wise and more dangerous… But it matters not."
That really got the Thorin's attention, "What do you mean?"
"These lands are crawling with Orcs, their numbers are growing and you are on foot. With Torshar in the condition she is in… You will never reach the forest alive." Calyr butt in, giving Thorin perspective of the trouble he would be putting his love in.
Beorn stood and slowly approached the prince while picking up a small white mouse that Bofur had pushed off of his sleeve, "I do not like Dwarves. They're greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own… But Orcs I hate more. What do you need?"
Pretty soon a list was being made and provisions were being gathered. While this was all going on, there was a nagging feeling in the back of the Erebor prince's mind as he walked back into the guest room and took his seat beside the, still, unmoving woman. Sighing, he gently took her hand, kissed it, and then simply held it as he fought back tears.
"She can hear you if you talk to her, Thorin…" a soft voice spoke up and the warrior turned to find the Elf healer, "Forgive me, I do not mean to intrude. I will only be a moment." He stated as he stepped up and laid the tops of his fingers against her cheek then forehead.
He gently shook his head, "The fever has come down slightly but not enough for safe travel." The brunette then produced a mug of piping hot tea from practically nowhere and proceeded to carefully pour some down his patient's throat. Once he was satisfied, the physician bowed in respect to the prince then left the room; closing the door as he went.
The warrior prince stood with sorrow gripping his heart and moved over to the window. He moved one side of the drapes aside and released the breath he had not realized he had been holding. His lips curled into a slight smile as he gazed upon his men enjoying time out in the sun, like proper men should. Ever so quietly, but loud enough for her to hear, he began to speak, "There are no words to describe the sorrow I feel. Not only for what I have done, but also for what I am about to do… Summer is coming to an end and we must reach the door before Durin's Day… Calyr says you are well enough to travel… To be honest, I agree…" by this point, the conflicted Dwarf turned, moved to her right side, knelt down, and held her hand with one of his while the other rested on the top of her head and his thumb gently stroked her forehead.
Fighting the tears he still continued, "I have decided… Against what my heart says that I must leave you here in Beorn and Calyr's care. Now, I know that you wanted to come with me but I cannot risk your life further, my love! If anything more were to happen… It would be the end of me… Please, understand that I did not abandon you nor will I ever. I love you with all of my heart and soul, Torshar…" with that he leaned over and kissed the woman's forehead then stood and left the room.
As he rejoined his men after they returned from the long day of chores, they all noticed the expression of guilt plastered to their leader's face. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, drew in a breath and exhaled, then gazed at everyone with stony eyes of indifference, "I have an announcement… When we leave for Mirkwood on the morn…. We leave without Torshar."
"How can we possibly leave her behind?!" Ori cried in shock.
"Torshar knows the paths better than anyone!" Balin stated.
"If we leave her the Orcs will surely kill her!" Nori mentioned.
Taking as much as he could stomach, the king-to-be slammed his fists down on the tabletop with authority, "Torshar is too injured to even consider moving! She may know the paths but I am confident we can make it! The Orcs will, undoubtedly, follow us instead of staying for one woman. We leave at dawn, get some sleep." And then he slowly walked outside while taking out his pipe.
Kili watched his uncle's movements like a hawk and when everyone began to talk amongst themselves, he stood and followed him out. Quietly closing the front door behind him, he found the Dwarf he was looking for, walking out towards a tall pine tree with smoke periodically puffing from his mouth. The brunette quickly caught up, "Uncle is it wise to leave Torshar in her time of need?"
Looking up from the ground, Thorin met gazes with his youngest nephew, "Kili, she is in no condition to travel. If we cannot make it to the Mountain then this journey will have all been for nothing."
"Would it really be such a bad thing if we did not take back the Mountain…? I mean, the dragon will sleep forever if no one disturbs the treasure within-" the bowman was cut off by a slap to the face by the older man.
"It is not the treasure I care about, Kili! It is the home that was taken from me, your mother, your grandfather, great-grandfather; our entire family line! Your father was one of the first souls claimed when Smaug attacked… Do you not want vengeance for his death?"
Kili rubbed his cheek in thought and silently trying to rid himself of the sting, "Yes, but not if it means abandoning Torshar."
Thorin held up his hand to silence him, "There will be no further discussion about it, Kili. Go inside and get some rest."
"Yes, Uncle…" the younger nephew responded then walked back to the cottage.
The war-worn prince turned to watch him go as smoke rose from his pipe, "I will give all of you the lives you deserve… No matter how much of my own happiness I must sacrifice…"