The burial fires burned for two days and the surviving dwarves grieved their grandfathers, fathers, sons, brothers, cousins, nephews and their king. Thror was placed in the middle of a huge pile of wood and his funeral pile enlightened battlefield until nightime. Thorin and Frerin stood watch the whole time and took no rest, while the men and healers took over the care of the wounded. Gwen and Brann had tended to the wounded for three days straight with only little sleep and the effort took a toll on the women. Gwen laid down to sleep and Brann stepped out of the tent to take a breath of fresh air. Now that the dead bodies were taken care off and the wounded were tended to she felt a little bit better. The dwarves who had not died until now were safe, but it would take weeks, if not even months for them to recover. Many would have to live with their injuries for the rest of their lives. Brann sat down at the rim of the camp and watched the burial fires gleaming red and high into the night sky. The kings pile burned the brightest. Brann could not imagine how hard it must have been on the dwarves to lose their king and leader so short after losing their home. She was a healer and she had been confronted with death many times. But she had never suffered under the loss of a person close to her herself. Her grandparents were still alive, as were the rest of her family members. Her home was a village of healers and traders, only few were trained with weapons. Brann had never even touched a weapon in her life. She feared the martial race of the dwarves, but she also felt sympathy for them in their grief. Her eyes fell on the two princes who stood by the fires. She recognised Frerin and guessed that the taller dwarf with the dark hair and the bitter face was his brother Thorin. The brothers were very different. The older one, Thorin, was tall, handsome and dark, while Frerin looked friendly and had a more fair look. Both had radiant blue eyes and their hair was braided back out of their faces. Thorin looked like a warrior with his broad shoulders, strong arms and flat stomach. His bearing was proud and strong, while his brother Frerin seemed to be more demure. Frerin was not as massive like his brother, but also athletic compared to other dwarves.

Brann sat there and watched the dwarven brothers and felt her exhaustion take over. She cuddled up in her cloak behind a cart of supplies and fell asleep as soon as she closed her eyes. That was how Frerin and Thorin found her hours later.

'Who is that?' Thorin asked his brother as he kneeled down to take a look at the woman unknown to him.

'Thats Brann, she is one of the healers.' Frerin told him.

'She is too young to be a good healer.' Thorin frowned at the peacefully sleeping woman.

'She found Lindin and tends to him.' Frerin told his brother. 'If it wasn´t for her I don´t know if he had survived. Let her sleep, she and her mother have helped Oin since they got here.'

Thorin looked down at Brann one last time before he followed his brother into their tent. Now that their grandfather was buried he only wanted to sleep, but he could not. He was beyond tired and could not fall asleep. He turned around on his hard couch, from one side to the other, not finding peace in slumber. At dawn he decided to visit his brother in law in the medical tent. Lindin was sleeping and his breathing went slowly, but strong. Frerin had told him that his wounds had been severe, but that the care of the healer had saved him from the worst. Thorin jumped as he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

'Excuse me, prince Thorin. ' Gwen had walked over to him and handed him a cup of water. 'Is there anything I can do for you?'

'You have done more than enough already, lady Gwen.' Thorin cleared his throat. 'I apologise for not thanking you earlier, but the last days have been...busy. Thank you.'

Gwen bowed her head before the prince and walked back to Oin who was mixing salves and potions. Thorin heard her ask for her daughter.

'Your daughter sleeps behind the big cart at the edge of the camp, lady Gwen.' Thorin informed her. As he saw her astonished face he added 'My brother and I found her as we came back from the burial fires. She is fast asleep and she should be safe inside of the camp.'.

'Thank you, prince Thorin.' Gwen smiled warmly at the young dwarf who had to carry a heavy burden now. 'If I may suggest - you should also rest. The last days have taken a toll on all of us.'

'I cannot find any sleep.' Thorin sighed. 'I have already tried.'

'As soon as my daughter arrives I will give her a sleeping potion for you.' Gwen promised as Thorin left for his tent.

'Thank you, mylady.' Thorin murmured and walked back to his tent slowly. He felt lost and in doubt. All the dwarves here were his responsibility now. He was their leader as long as his father was not found. Inside of his tent Thorin sat down on his couch and covered his face in his hands. Looking for something to do he stood up and his gaze fell onto his weapons which were laying in the corner of his tent. After the battle he had thrown them into the corner and had thrown himself into the care for his people. His sword was still covered in orc blood and his shield was beyond repair. Thorin kneeled down and took the oaken branch which had saved his life. The massive peace of tree had perfectly shielded him from the blows of the huge Gundabad orc. Thorins shoulder still hurt in consequence of the powerful blows he had to endure during the fight with the pale orc. Thorin suddenly felt a cold breeze in his back. As he turned around he saw the young healer woman stand at the entrance of his tent.

'Mylord.' Brann bowed before him and handed him a big cup. 'My mother sends this with her regards. It will help you sleep.'

Murmuring his thanks Thorin reached out for the cup and his hands grazed hers. He felt her hands twitch from his touch and frowned at her. Brann looked at him shyly and Thorin could not help but wonder wether the young woman was afraid of him. The prince took a deep breath and took a sip of the potion. It tasted horrible and Thorin almost spit it out.

'I apologise for the taste, but we have no honey to sweeten it.' Brann apologised.

'You made this?' Thorin asked her and saw Brann nod. He slightly hesitated before he took the next sip and Bran frowned.

'Is there a problem, your highness?' she asked, but she could already guessed the reason for his reluctance. Many of her patients, especially males, reacted like that when she tended to them. In their eyes she was only a young and unexperienced woman. The injured dwarves in the tent had not protested, but of course they had not been in the position of doing so. 'I ensure you that after drinking the potion you will get the sleep that you need.'

Thorin saw the flash of anger in the young womans eyes and smirked mentally. So there was more to her than the fragile appearance of a healer. In this moment Frerin entered the tent.

'Brann! What a wonderful surprise!' Frerin smiled at her warmly. 'I see that you tend to my brother now.'

'If he would let me.' Brann bit her tongue, but the words were already out. 'Excuse me, mylords.'

She bowed quickly and left the tent. Brann kicked herself mentally, she was even more angry about her own behaviour than about prince Thorins.

'What was that about?' Frerin looked after the woman in surprise and saw Thorin smirk. 'What did you do?'

'I did not do anything.' Thorin held up his hands in defeat. 'She gave me the sleeping potion which she made and...'

'And you snubbed her.' Frerin scolded his brother. 'Oh don´t give me that look, I know that I am right.'

For the first time in days Thorin smiled.

The following day hell broke lose over the camp. The morning had been foggy and the camp was shielded from the sun. The orcs which had retreated into the mountain charged a massive attack against the dwarves and surprised them as they slept. The orcs weren´t many, but they had the advantage of surprise on their side. The dwarves had not awaited the attack and many were slaughtered in their sleep. This time, not only the dwarves had to suffer casualties. Branns father and some of the men had been at the river to get water when the orcs attacked. They did not stand a chance. All of the men were killed and Brann lost her father and her two brothers that day. Brann was in the medical tent with Oin and her mother as she heard the orcs shriek and scream at the surprised dwarves. Some orcs had even managed to enter the tent and slay some of the wounded in their beds. There was nothing Gwen or Brann could have done, the orcs had been too many. Oin had protected the women and the wounded, but he was soon hit unconscious by a massive orc called Bolg, who was the son of the pale orc who had been killed by Thorin. As he went for the women Thorin and Frerin rushed to their aid and fought the orcs back. While Thorin went after the retreating orcs with his guard, Frerin turned to Gwen.

'Are you alright, mylady?' he asked worriedly. Before she could answer they heard Brann call out.

'Oh no, good gods, no!' Brann rushed over to Lindin who lay in his bed gasping for air. The orcs had ripped open his throat and Brann desperatly tried to stop the bleeding. 'Don´t do this, stay with us, do you hear me?'

Gwen rushed to her daughters side. She knew that it was hopeless, but she tried to help. Frerin was petrified at first, then he rushed over to Oin and helped him up and tried to stay out of the way.

'Get me new bandages!' Brann called out to the next dwarf who entered the tent. Alarmed by her panicked voice Thorin came running back in and paled as he saw Lindin lay in a pool of blood. He also saw Brann fighting for his brother in laws life like a lioness. Her hands, arms and dress were red from Lindins blood. As the dwarf came back with new bandages Brann managed to stop the bleeding, but Lindir was pale and his breath came rattling. Brann looked at her mother. Both knew that the chances of Lindin surviving were more than slim.

'Brann.' Frerin walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders. She had reacted fast as she had learned as a healer, but the terror over the sudden and bloody attack was evident in her eyes. Her bloody hands cupped Frerins chest as he took her in his arms and she could not stop shaking. Thorin and Gwen just looked at the dwarf prince holding the young healer as one of Thorins guards came in.

'My prince. The orcs have fled back to Moria. We have heavy casualties...lord Dan...'

'What about my husband?' Gwen asked ihm in worry. 'Is he alright? I haven´t seen him since he went for water with my two sons and some men.'

Thorin looked at the pale face of the dwarf guard and nodded. It was his responsibility to inform the lady.

'I am sorry, lady Gwen. Maybe you should sit down.' Thorin tried to calm her.

'Prince Thorin, I demand to know what happened.' Gwen stated firmly. In her heart she already knew that her daughter was the only person she had left.

'I am sorry, mylady. Your husband and your sons are dead, as are the men who have gone to the river with them.' Thorin informed her quietly. Brann pulled out of Frerins arms and rushed to her mother who collapsed on the hard floor. Today she begann to understand the dwarves grief and pain over the loss of loved ones. It was a pain that tore her heart apart and Brann thought that it would never pass.

There was not much time for grief. Oin was still unconscious and there were many wounded to attend to. Gwen and Brann worked until pure exhaustion and Frerin and Thorin helped tend to the wounded. The two women rushed into their work to concentrate on something else than the brutal loss of the male members of their family. Brann tended on a huge dwarf with a mohawk who refused to be taken care of until his brother was taken care of.

'You are bleeding from a deep wound, master dwarf. If you keep me from cleaning the wound it will get infected.' Brann protested, but the dwarf declined her help. As a grey haired dwarf with a chin beard was brought in, the dwarf with the mohawk relaxed a bit. But he still did not let Brann tend to him.

'Go away, girl. I do not need your help. Help my brother!' he grumbled at Brann.

'My mother already tends to him, now hold still.' Brann tried to reassure him, but he kept standing up. Brann was tired off it. She took one of the sponges and dipped it into a powerful sleeping potion which made the dwarves sleep during surgery. She took a determined step towards the dwarf and placed the sponge over his nose and mouth. It took her all her strength to hold the sponge in its place, but her anger and fury about the loss of her father and brothers gave her strength. After a while the dwarf collapsed to her feet and she tended to him on the ground for he was to heavy to lift up onto the beds. The dwarves brother grinned at her before he lost consciousness.

'They will be alright, prince Thorin.' she heard her mother say. 'Only a few bruises and a consussion.'

Brann was so fixated on her work that she had forgotten that the two princes were still in the tent. But she did not care at the moment. She needed to work and ban the pain about the loss of her father and brothers into the furtherst corner of her mind. Half a day later the wounded were taken care off and Brann and her mother buried the bodies of lord Dan and his sons. Thorin provided them with everything they needed and even gave them luxurious grave goods for the lords grave. He felt guilty because the lord and his clan had rushed to their help and shared the dwarves fate now. The pain in the faces of the two women who had tended tirelessly to his people was indolent and he was happy that Frerin seemed close enough to the lords daughter to comfort her. In fact Frerin spent alot of time with Brann and Thorin could see the affection for the young woman in the eyes of his brother. Two days after the funeral he talked to Frerin.

'You like the girl.' he used the term "girl" which Dwalin had given Brann to ease the atmosphere.

'Brann?' Frerin got a dreamy expression and almost made Thorin smirk. 'I really do. She is...so brave and beautiful. And her hands are magic. In healing ways of course.' he added and blushed.

'If there was a way to be there for her, now that she lost her family, would you do it?' Thorin asked his brother.

'Anytime. But how?' Frerin was so preoccupied with the thought of Brann that he did not get what his brother was planning.

'I am thinking that you could marry her.' Thorin told his younger brother. 'She is a good woman and her father has done alot for our people. Taking his daughter as your wife would express our gratitude. Brann may be a lords daughter, but this would be an high honor for her and her line. Of course, she is not a dwarf, but you seem to like her very much and father would also ...'

The thought of their vanished father made Thorin stop. Thror would never have agreed with his grandsons marrying a non-dwarven female, but Thrain and Thorin were different and more open to other races. Thorin had lost half of the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and his people could not afford to stay isolated from the other races. The line of Durin was weakened and they needed all the alliances possible. And Frerin was only third in the line of heirs, him marrying a foreign woman would not be a problem.

'You want me to marry Brann?' Frerin was flabbergasted. 'But we barely know each other. And what if she does not want me?'

'She likes you. It is obvious.' Thorin told his brother. 'And it would be unwise for her to dismiss our proposal. She and her mother stand alone. Brann needs a husband now that her father and brothers are gone.'

Frerin thought about his brothers words. He wondered how Thorin could talk about a marriage as if it was a trade agreement, but then again he could not recall his brother ever being in love. For Thorin a marriage was a duty arrangement and not more. Frerin liked Brann very much, she fascinated him and he knew that he had fallen in love. But he did not want to force anything on the young woman. He knew that she feared dwarves and suddenly asked himself if she also feared him.

'I will talk to her.' Frerin told Thorin and earned a nod.

'Do that, brother. I am sure that we will find a fitting arrangement.' the prince of the dwarves patted his younger brothers shoulder.