Chapter 24

What's in a Name

Thoren and Thráin hadn't been good sleepers and Thorin had lost count of the number of nights he or Kate had been up for hours and hours when one of their sons had decided that sleep was for other people and not for them. And it was the one part of being a parent where he'd been better at than Kate. Soothing a fussy baby back to sleep somehow came easy to him. Kate had once told him it was because he sang them lullabies and that there was something about being in his arms that made a body feel safe. He did not know if she was right.

Duly Noted, Chapter 22: Family Reunion AU Part 5: Connecting

Kate

Erebor, late autumn 2944

'Lay down your head, and I'll sing you a lullaby…'

Kate knew she could not lay claim to the greatest singing voice, but it was better than nothing at all. At least Thráin's tired cries became hiccups and the occasional whimper when he listened to her. He'd been feverish these past two days and although his fever had broken a few hours ago, he still wasn't feeling very well.

'And may you need never to banish misfortune, may you find kindness in all that you meet…'

But at least he was listening to her now, eyes staring up at her teary, but somewhat attentive. Her heart went out to him, her tiny little boy feeling so miserable. And she had done all in her power to take it away, but even she could not work miracles. All she could do was sing to him. And this tune was working. She had liked it back in her own world, both the soothing melody and the lyrics. It was like a well-wishing, a blessing. It contained all the things she wished for him. But if only wishing could make it so, he would be feeling better by now.

She felt her own eyelids grow heavier. Sleep for her had been a while ago and she was tired. She'd been up with a crying baby all hours of the night to give Thorin the chance to rest. He'd been needed at court today and Kate could stay home easier than he could. Not that he had slept particularly well; worry had kept them both wide awake.

He would have been better at this, Kate knew. The moment her husband started singing, children dropped off to sleep within moments. She'd almost suspected magic was involved. Her singing usually quieted her sons, but instead of drifting off, they tended to stay awake to listen. 'It's because they like your voice better than mine,' Thorin had told her, but Kate called bullshit on that. There was only one of them in this marriage who could sing well, and it wasn't her.

A knock on the door broke her concentration. 'Come in!' she called out.

Lufur stepped inside. 'I don't mean to disturb you, my lady, but there's been a delivery, addressed to you.'

Kate shifted Thráin to one arm so she could accept the packet.

'I believe your brother sent it,' he added.

It was a little bag with a short note attached. To raise my favourite sister's spirit in times of trouble, it read in Nori's handwriting and when she pried the bag open she found the spiced tea from the East she liked so much. She could have hugged Lufur for the prompt delivery, and very probably would have if she hadn't been holding Thráin.

'Is he back?' she asked.

'I believe so, my lady,' Lufur replied. Even though Kate counted him as a dear friend who had earned to right to drop the courtesies and use her first name many times over, he insisted on calling her my lady still. Since he had been doing so for three years now, she began to despair of him ever changing that. 'He would have delivered it in person were it not for his being waylaid by his brother the moment he stepped through the gates.'

Kate really didn't need to ask which brother.

'If you would trust me with your son for a few minutes, you could fix yourself a cup,' Lufur offered.

'Has anybody ever told you you're a hero, Lufur?' she asked, meaning it as a very rhetorical question.

He didn't take it as one. Dwarves only very seldom did. 'Folk haven't really stopped for the past three years.' And because Lufur was a dwarf, he said this without pride or self-consciousness, but rather as the fact it was.

And he deserved every bit of praise he received. It had taken some time for Kate to let it sink in that their stand at the side door during the Battle of the Five Armies had been quite an accomplishment. They had stopped an army from entering with only two elves, one dwarf, one hobbit and one woman. Looking back on it she couldn't help but wondering how they had ever pulled that off.

And Lufur had become a friend because of this. Kate reckoned it would be impossible to live through something like that and not bond over it. And she genuinely liked him. He was steadfast, loyal to a fault and kind. And he was one of the dwarves who wouldn't so much as blink when she did something outlandish. He had the good sense not to comment on her appearance right now, which doubled her affection for him.

Kate knew she looked a fright. She hadn't looked in a mirror for days, but the lack of sleep and the worry for Thráin mustn't have done her any favours. There was as much hair in her braid as there was out of it and she hadn't really bothered with dressing this morning. She'd put on leggings and a pair of thick socks and one of Thorin's tunics. To be fair, she thought she'd been grabbing one of her own – they were the same colour and she was sleepy and paying more attention to her baby than her clothing – and by the time she realised her mistake she'd already put it on. She hadn't had the motivation to change it, even though Thorin's shirt was far too big for her and hung off one shoulder. It revealed far more skin than dwarves were comfortable with, but Lufur didn't act like anything was amiss at all.

She put Thráin in Lufur's arms and set to making tea. If she was really honest, she felt a little guilty about handing him off to anyone who wasn't Thorin; it was as if she was admitting to not being up to the job herself. But Lufur was good with him and she needed to drink something. It'd probably be a good idea to grab a bite to eat as well.

Lufur didn't sing, but kept Thráin occupied by speaking to him in a low, comforting voice. It worked as well as Kate's singing; Thráin was mostly quiet, but still not sleeping. It would be better for him if he did sleep, but of course it would be hard to reason with a four months old baby.

'Give him to me, please,' she requested once the tea was made.

Lufur did. 'If there's anything more I can do, please ask. If I need to look after your other lad for a bit…'

'Dís has him for a few days,' Kate replied. Thorin's sister had been on her doorstep with an offer of help the moment she heard Thráin was ill. She'd look after Thoren while his brother was sick, which killed two birds with one stone. Kate had one less child to worry about and she did not run the risk that he would catch it, which would have left her with two sick children. 'But thank you for offering. I'll let you know if I need anything.'

She would, but she did not think there would be any need to call for reinforcements. The worst was behind them. Now she just really needed her boy to sleep.

'Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay…'

Thorin

It was late in the afternoon by the time court concluded for the day and by then Thorin's patience was running low. He'd been needed to settle the disputes of his own people that for reasons beyond his comprehension needed his judgement rather than that of the lower courts that usually dealt in these matters. Kate had once likened it to being a referee in a sports match and, once she had explained what that job entailed, he had found it impossible to disagree with her. And it certainly wouldn't hurt folk to use their common sense and sort out their own problems. For Durin's sake, were they children?

He wished Kate had been with him today. They both disliked this part of their duties, but when they faced them together they usually made it through the day without incident. Of course, it had been impossible. Thráin was too ill to be left to a minder and so Kate had elected to stay at home to look after him. This was the other reason Thorin's temper had been so short; he'd wanted to stay home himself. All day his attention had wavered and at some point he had seriously considered sending Dwalin from his side to inquire after the wellbeing of both his son and his wife.

'Go home,' Dwalin told him brusquely. 'Get some sleep if you can.'

He'd only rest if he knew that all was well and Dwalin knew this. But he was a good friend and he didn't comment on it.

Lufur was on duty when he arrived back at his own door. That was a relief. At least if something was the matter, he would lend a hand to Kate. 'My lord,' he greeted.

There were days when he was addressed thus and would almost look over his own shoulder to see what important dwarf walked behind him. He had been a simple blacksmith, a king in exile, longer than he had been king under his own Mountain. Some habits proved hard to break. Fortunately he had better control over himself today.

'Lufur,' he acknowledged.

He didn't stop to ask after Kate and Thráin; his need to know would be satisfied sooner if he went in and saw for himself.

'May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay.'

Kate was singing softly. The song had come over with her from her own world, but Thorin was familiar with the melody by now. Truth be told, he liked the tune and he didn't mind hearing his wife singing it. Much as she disagreed with him, he was of the opinion that she had a pleasant singing voice. Clearly his sons shared this view; they always listened to her. Kate reminded him that they never fell asleep when she sang, to which Thorin had pointed out very reasonably that they would be fools to do so when there was such a beautiful voice to listen to. He could tell by the sceptical look on her face she thought this was nonsense.

She hadn't noticed his entrance and so for a moment he waited. With something akin to amusement he realised that she must have grabbed one of his tunics to wear this morning and, if she had taken note of this at all, she hadn't bothered to exchange it for her own. Her hair was mostly unbound, a curtain of fire framing her face.

In the privacy of his own mind he could admit he preferred her appearance like this over her finery. She looked more as she had done when he had met her and had come to love her. He was glad that she was growing into her role and that his people were slowly beginning to accept her, but he cherished these moments most.

'Is he better?' he asked softly when the song had ended.

She turned around. 'Much,' she replied. 'His fever broke a few hours ago. Now if he would just sleep…'

She looked tired, exhausted. Kate had slept even less than he had last night and it was harder on her than it was on him.

'Give him to me,' he said.

'Thorin, you've had court all day. You shouldn't have to…'

'I want to,' he interrupted, holding out his arms. It was not just to relieve her. He wanted to feel his son in his arms, a visual reminder that he was there and that he was well.

Kate was too tired to raise any more objections and so she passed Thráin over. The lad did not look ill anymore, just very, very tired.

'Did you stay up just to hear your amad sing?' he asked gently.

'I kept him awake, is more likely,' Kate snorted.

Thorin pretended he hadn't heard her. 'Aye, can't fault you for that. She's got a voice worth listening to. But you need to sleep, lad.'

'He does,' Kate agreed. 'Perhaps if you'd sing to him, he'd actually do just that.'

Thorin sat down on the sofa, Thráin nestled securely in his arms. Kate shook her head fondly and then joined them. She pulled her legs up on the sofa and put her head down on his shoulder as if it was her pillow. Not that Thorin objected.

'Perhaps I should,' he said.

For now Thráin seemed content to be held and to be occasionally talked to. He was quiet, but alert. Kate offered him one of her fingers, which he grabbed with one of his little hands and stuck in his mouth.

'He's been fed,' Kate pre-empted the question Thorin was about to ask. 'And changed. And I am certain he's neither too warm nor too cold.'

'Just tired,' Thorin concluded.

'Just tired,' Kate confirmed. 'Just like his parents. What I wouldn't give for a night's undisturbed sleep.'

'Perhaps I ought to sing you a lullaby as well,' he teased.

Kate chuckled. 'That might not be such a bad idea. Then again, I'd sleep right through dinner.'

'I'd wake you,' Thorin told her.

'Not if you fell asleep as well.'

Thorin did not respond to that, but instead started on a song. 'Lay down your head, and I'll sing you a lullaby…'

He felt more than he saw that Kate frowned. 'Stealing my songs now, are you?'

He did not stop to reply to her. Thráin was already close to sleep and he had not even gotten through the first verse. If that was not testimony to how exhausted he was, he did not know what was.

Thráin looked like him, more even than his brother did. And Thorin in turn had always looked much like his father, whose name this child now bore.

Kate had not looked a little surprised when he had first suggested they name their then still unborn son – if he should turn out to be a son – after the father he despised. He could tell she hadn't understood, had asked if he maybe took that decision to cement their son's position as a prince of Durin's line, a factor that had weighed heavily in naming their firstborn.

It had only been part of the reason, a very small part.

Since he had become a father he had spent much time thinking about his own and what he had done. There had been a time when even the mention of his father's name would make him cringe inside. He'd done so much harm, had destroyed so much. He'd never been a particularly kind or loving father. He had expected much. Thorin had never stopped feeling as though he lacked something in his father's eyes, no matter how hard he strove to be worthy of his affection.

And then Thráin had failed him so unexpectedly.

It was a bitter disappointment he had never really understood.

So Kate's lack of understanding had been fully justified. But she had listened when he explained that yes, Thráin was the name of the dwarf who had abandoned him when he never should have, but it was also the name of the dwarf who founded the kingdom they called their own, many centuries ago. It was a good name, an old name, a name that once had been spoken in pride and admiration, as he hoped one day to be able to do about his son.

'Still, it was also your father's name,' Kate had said. 'Won't it be too… confronting?'

'No.' His reply had been spoken with more certainty than he had felt at the time, but he had known that the time had come to lay the past to rest. Let that name become the name he associated with his son, with everything good. If that name was called, the child in his arms would be the first to come to mind.

Kate had smiled when he clarified himself, albeit in a surprised deer kind of way. 'A way to exorcise a demon,' she'd said, although she in turn had needed to explain that expression. But yes, that was what he did.

For some weeks before the birth he had fretted it wouldn't work, that he had done his son a disservice by naming him after one so unworthy of any recognition. But then the day had come his new-born son had been placed in his arms. He knew he had made the right choice then.

'Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay…'

The song had ended and Thráin was finally asleep, Kate's finger still in his hand, blissfully unaware of all the evils of this world.

'He will grow up to do many great things,' Thorin said.

Kate didn't hear him; she'd fallen asleep at last.

The song Kate sang is Sleepsong by Secret Garden. If you don't know it yet, I'd recommend it. It's a beautiful song.

And a quick thank you to guest reviewer dearreader, who reviews often. For some reason I always forget to actually say thank you, so I'd just like to say your reviews mean a lot.

I hope you enjoyed this little piece. As always, thank you for reading. Reviews would be most welcome!