Natural || Dwalin x OC - A Hobbit Fanfiction

23 - Prayer to Mandos

Norí ran through the caverns and back to the entry of the mines holding Rurín in his arms as if she were precious cargo. He felt as though she were precious cargo. Bofur was close behind him, yelling with him at anyone who got near. The dwarves immediately jumped out of the way, some crying out in joy and screaming to anyone who was near and far that Rurín had been found.

Norí kept running as fast and as carefully as he could through the lower levels and towards the top and finally into the open streets. The sun beamed down on them, Rurín opened her eyes, looking at the whispy clouds and the bright pale blue of the sky. Felt the warmth on her cheeks.

She wondered if she had died for how could it be? That she was seeing such beauty again?

"Stay awake, sweet," Norí puffed when she closed her eyes again. "Do not close your eyes. We are almost there."

She couldn't speak, it felt like she had a hand wrapped around her throat again, taking her voice away. Her chapped and black bluish lips cracked open with fresh blood trickling out and washing away the old when she smiled softly at the sky.

"Must be a dream..." She whispered with a crackling harshness. Norí was aware that she had been strangled so much that her voice was damaged greatly. The way it sounded broke his heart even more.

"What is?" He glanced down at her briefly, trying to keep his own voice calm and collected.

"My prayer to Mandos, he answered me."

Norí held her tightly, his eyes crinkling with unshed tears. What the hell did they do to her? They've broken her spirit.

He finally got to the halls and that is when he met Thorín, his eyes hardened to black icy glare as he saw Norí and the tiny, wasting away bundle in his arms. "Give her to me," He demanded.

Norí eased her over and trailed after him when he turned away to head for the healing house. Dís was by the door with a heaving Mason, sweat pouring down from his hairline and all red in the face. He looked close to passing out.

"Mahal!" Dís cried out. Already weeping at first glance. Thorín spat at her to control herself making her shut her mouth and turn away promptly.

"Put her here," Óin directed, waving his hands to the bed. "Quickly now!"

Thorín had just gotten her on the bed when she immediately curled into herself, so incredibly small as if she were trying to hide away.

"Dwalín!" He could hear Balín shouting from the corridor. "Dwalín!"

"Where is she!" Dwalín busted into the room looking like a bloodthirsty wolf, his body taut like a bowstring. Thorín swiveled around and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him away from Rurín. If looks could kill, Thorín would have died a thousand times over.

"Calm yourself!" Thorín spat venomously.

Dwalín shoved him away and took long strides until he was next to her bedside, dropping to his knees and holding trembling hands above her face. He was so terrified to touch her. The sight of her once beautiful creamy skin was unrecognizable. She was littered with injuries, like a canvas of black, blue, purple, and red. Old and fresh cuts mered her. Her cheeks were swollen, and her nose was crooked. Her eyes were puffy and blackened.

"Rurí..." He croaked. Sniffing hard, his fingers barely brushed her face and he broke. Weeping against her.

Rurín opened her eyes and looked at him, he rubbed his face and took her hand, kissing her wrist. "Oh... My sweet raven... My heart. I am so so terribly sorry." He wept against her bust knuckles. Holding her palm to his cheek.