Where I Belong

Chapter Twenty-One

"He keeps asking for Dís."

Fíli looked over at Noelle. "I beg your pardon?"

"He keeps asking for Dís. She's your mother, right?"

"She is," Fíli nodded, "and she would brain him if she were here. She hates it when he calls her by her given name. Which means, that's all he usually calls her."

Noelle chuckled. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"But, how do you know of her?"

She smiled at him. "Your uncle spoke of you all, of how he stepped in to help her after your father died."

Fíli offered up a sad smile. "He did, yes. Kíli doesn't really remember him. All he knows is Thorin was always around."

"I can see that." She turned back to look at the water, feeling Thorin's absence acutely now. She couldn't wait to see him again. Please, keep him safe.

Darkness had fallen and Bofur had yet to return. A hint of the reheated stew hung in the air and Kili was more restless than ever. Noelle laid her hand against his forehead and quickly drew it away. "I wish Bofur would return already. What does kingsfoil even do? I've never heard of it."

Óin looked up. "It is a wondrous herb, with almost magical healing properties and a multitude of uses."

Wood creaked and she turned in hopes that meant Bofur and Sigrid had returned. A low rumbled sounded in the distance. A low, ominous rumble that she didn't think had anything to do with Bofur or Sigrid. Dust filtered down from the ceiling and she and Bard exchanged looks as Tilda said, "What's happening?"

Bain looked over at the windows at the far end. "It's coming from the mountain."

Noelle's gut kinked. Tilda looked up at her, then at her father. "Is that the dragon? Is it going to kill us?"

"I think it might very well be the dragon, but no," Bard shook his head, "it isn't going to kill us." He reached up and yanked down a large black iron arrow. "Because I am going to kill it first."

He left, with Bain on his heels, and Tilda looked up at her once more. "Now what?"

Drawing an arm about the girl's shoulders, Noelle said, "We wait and if need be, we make a run for it." She looked over at Fíli. "We should probably try to find a boat or something, shouldn't we? I mean, I don't know about you but I really have no desire to swim in that water again."

Kíli moaned softly and Noelle sighed softly as she watched him stretch, then grimace. "Can we even move him?"

"I don't know." Fíli in turn looked at Óin. "Can we?"

"Only if absolutely necessary."

Kíli moaned, louder this time, and as he tried to stretch once more, he grabbed at his wounded leg and let out a howl. More dust filtered down and Noelle looked up at the sudden thunder of footsteps above them.

"What the hell is that?"

Before anyone could answer, a window shattered and Tilda screamed when an orc burst through, followed by two more. Fíli dove for the cutlery drying on near the sink and tossed a blade to Óin as well, while Noelle grabbed the first thing she saw—a cast iron skillet (of course) on the stovetop. She swung, and to her shock, took an orc's head clean off. 

The spatter of black ooze turned her stomach as she stared down at the headless orc for one moment. Then, a flash of movement caught her attention and she swung about again, doing the same to the orc coming up alongside her. A knife whizzed past her, into the forehead of another orc and Tilda screamed once more, grabbed a fork, and stabbed another orc through the hand, impaling him to the table. The door swung open and the red-haired she-elf, and the blond he-elf who threatened Thorin in Mirkwood burst in.