EquusGold 27/08/14
Hunger
A/N Okay, after some serious mathematics I have deduced that Soren was born in 2896, Thorin was 150 at the time, Fili was 37 and Kili is 32. Soren is 7 at the time of this story.
Also, in my head cannon dwarves physically age at the same rate as humans, but mentally they're a little slower. (Not development-wise, mostly emotionally.) Hope that makes sense and hope you enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review!
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Soren stared down at the bland, watered-down stew that was placed before her and resisted the urge to cringe. Her father entered the kitchen a moment later, closely tailed by her cousins. Fili and Kili sat opposite her while Dis and Thorin sat at the far ends of the table. All three of the males eyed the less than satisfactory meal with the same looks of disgust and resignation that Soren was feeling. Dis eyed them al with a stern maternal air, as though challenging the members of her little family to say something.
But none of them did; they never did.
Soren was the first one to pick up her spoon and begin half-heartedly poking around in her stew. There were a couple of lumps of carrot and potato floating about in there and the young dwarfling quickly captured them and slowly chewed the washed-out vegetables. Hungry as she was, Soren couldn't bring herself to throw down the hot stew as her cousins were doing.
She had been hungry for long enough to know that this bland, tasteless, watery slop would do little to nothing to satiate the gnawing in her belly. Yet she didn't pine for something better; for a hearty meal and a full stomach. Soren couldn't recall a time when she'd had either of those things. So she found she couldn't long for that which she'd never had.
She wondered if she would grow up like Kili; to skinny for a dwarf, too frail and too weak to start training and working with the rest of the youths. Kili had been forced to wait another five years before he could properly begin training with the others. That was why he had learned to use the bow. Soren had heard aunty Dis and her Da talking in hushed tones about how it was because he'd never had enough good food as a child. Because when Dis' husband had died it had become increasingly impossible to afford to feed two growing lads.
Indeed that was the exact same fear that the dwarf-child's father was experiencing at the other end of the table. For months he had toyed with the idea of sending her away, most likely to the Iron Hills. Dain would care for her, keep her well fed, clothed, give her the learning she deserved. Dain had adored the dark-haired, pale-eyed girl from the moment he first saw her as a newborn bairn, and again as hard-faced three year old. Yes, Dain would take care of her. He would raise Soren as his own.
But it was selfishness and pride that was forcing Thorin to keep his little fox under his wing. His pride would not allow him to beg for Dain Ironfoot's help, to admit the he, who-would-be-king, could not even care for his own family, could not support his only child.
It was selfishness also, that he could not deny. Soren looked so much like her mother, like Saram, that sometimes it hurt to look at her. But it was a good kind of pain, the kind of pain that came with memory, the memory that someone loved him more than all the gems and riches of the earth. Yes, a good kind of pain indeed. It was for that reason that he wanted to be strong enough to support his stubborn, solemn daughter. Thorin wanted to honour the memory of his wife and see his – their – child grow into a fine young woman with her silver-grey eyes that rivalled the moon in their brilliance.
Thorin knew that he should do the right thing by her, but his love for Soren was too strong and the memory of Saram still too raw. He looked at his daughter then, resolutely fishing about in her stew – if it could honestly be called that – with a heavy, thoughtful expression on her fair face. As though sensing his eyes upon her she looked up and steadily held her father's gaze, a small smile creeping across her features. He knew that the smile was supposed to be nothing but reassuring, but it worked regardless.
Then her intelligent, all-knowing eyes drifted from his and slipped over the other members of their family, taking in all of the negative expressions portrayed on those familiar faces. A cheeky smirk that bespoke of trouble tugged at the corner of her lips.
"I think your cooking needs some work, Aunty Dis," she dared to say quietly in that all-too-innocent way that children have. Her eyes flicked over the faces about the small table once again even as she ducked a swing of the ladle. Dis' expression was torn between exasperation, outrage and amusement. Fili and Kili were stifling their laughs rather unsuccessfully and her Da's face was twitched, altogether too expressionless to be real.
No, Soren did not care that she was always hungry. She was surrounded by the people she loved most in the world, that she was loved by, and that was enough for her.
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A/N Please excuse any mistakes :D
You have guest – Aranel Mereneth to blame for this as they wanted a sequel to my one-shot Everything isn't Everything which is probably a good thing to read in conjunction with this. It's not very long, so please check it out.
Reviews are golden, or mithril, whichever works :D
I was wondering if anyone had any prompts for this so I might keep going pleeeeease! Even just one word is enough.