More Than Meets the Eye

Chapter Thirty-Five

Thorin couldn't sit still. He'd made it to the infirmary in the blink of an eye and brought Narnerra back, and she just as quickly shooed him from the bedchamber and slammed the door in his face, leaving him to do nothing but pace. Pace and think. Think and pace. Until thinking and pacing were about to drive him mad.

Finally, the door opened and he whipped about to face Narnerra, his gut kinked and twisted into tight knots. His mouth went dry, his heart sinking at the grim expression on her face. "Oh, no..." he whispered, shaking his head. "Narnerra—"

"I am sorry, Thorin..."

His throat squeezed shut, his eyes stinging with tears. "Kunbûnaul..." He swallowed hard, cleared his throat. "Is Arielle all right otherwise?"

She nodded. "She will be in time. She's upset, of course, but that is understandable. And you are allowed to be upset as well, Thorin, but right now, you need to take care of her."

She came over to take him by the hands. "You need to go in there and assure her you do not blame her, that this was in no way her fault, because it wasn't."

"Why would she think it her fault?"

"Because she does. The first thing she said was she was sorry. But, she has nothing for which to be sorry. And she needs know that."

He didn't know what to say, didn't know what he was supposed to do. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment, for it was not supposed to happen. "But... you said what she was feeling was perfectly normal."

"It was, until it wasn't. One cannot explain nor predict miscarriages, Thorin. Sometimes, nature makes a mistake and this is its way of correcting it. But it was nothing either you or she did. It was just very terrible luck."

He sighed softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just be there." She gestured to the sofa. "I'll stay here for the night, in case Arielle needs me for anything. I just need to let Glóin know so Gimli doesn't worry."

He nodded. "I'll leave the door unlocked." He turned his gaze to the bedchamber. "Thank you."

"I wish there was more I could do."

"I appreciate your help just the same."

"Go and be with Arielle."

He didn't answer, but made his way to the threshold of his bedchamber, his heart beating wildly against his ribs, his mouth dry once more. What did he say to Arielle? How did he comfort her when he wanted only to drive his fist through something?

Closing the door softly behind him, he crept over to the bed, where Arielle lay on her side, her eyes closed. He crouched beside her, bringing one hand to her cheek to curve against it. "Abnâmul... 'Atmelê..."

His eyes stung, but he blinked back the tears as she opened her eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry, amrâlimê..."

"No," he shook his head, "you did not do this, givashel. You didn't."

"Thorin..."

He stood, then slid in beside her to gather her in his arms. Wrapping them about her, he whispered, "You did not do this, and I will not allow you to think otherwise. It was just, as Narnerra said, terrible luck."

She didn't respond, but broke down sobbing into his chest. He tightened his arms about her, rocking her as he'd done earlier, stroked her hair, and just whispered, "Shhh... amrâlimê... it will be all right. We'll try again when the time is right and we will have our son or daughter... And we will keep on trying until it happens. But I promise you, we will have a child one day."