Beside the Undying Fire

Chapter 11

I returned to Erebor not a few days later.

I finally reached home. Although it was still not easy, I couldn't allow myself to be seen looking in such a torn up manner, I had to nearly sneak though the great halls and avoid any Dwarves peering at my face.

I put the hood of my cloak up as I walked with my head towards the ground. It wasn't an easy thing, I passed many Dwarves, some of which attempted to greet me. My head pounded, and blood dripped onto my outfit from my head.

I wandered the great halls aimlessly until I found my home.

I reached my door. I was home.

I trudged over to a bucket of water, I cleaned the blood and dirt off myself as best I could. With every touch I flinched and fought the urge to jump back from the pain.

I waited for the water to settle again and examined my face.

On the right side of my forehead was a considerably large cut. My bottom lip also had a small scrape. My nose wouldn't stop dripping blood. And my eye was enlarged from a cut right near it.

Then.

I remembered.

I stripped down out of my armour, and looked down upon my left side. There it was. The shape of Azog's mace, implanted in my side, full of old blood trying to heal itself. He had pierced in the spot in which my armour did not cover. A tear made its way down my face, hitting the gash on my lip.

I never cried, I was never one to cry, and even this, I never considered crying but it happened, I didn't intend to do it. It was a tear that came to a sparkle in the corner of my eye, but I didn't make a sound. It just happened.

I quickly wiped it off as I splashed my face again.

I walked up to a wooden dresser in the bedroom and found an old, torn up blackish dress and ripped a piece off.

I returned to the bucket of water and dipped the torn piece in it. I gently placed the torn piece onto my side. I flinched immediately from the pain. The design of his mace was implanted clearly into my side.

It was as if the water ignited my side.

It began to bleed again, fiercely aching all up and down. Stinging with the slightest touch. It was bloody and beginning to scab up. The edges bruised with purple, blue and green tints.

It finally stopped bleeding a few minutes later, I still cringed every time I took a breath. I grabbed another piece of the dress and wrapped it around the mace-shaped wound.

I grabbed another short dress, I placed another layer on top that flowed down to my ankles, but stayed open at the front, minus the two closed buttons at the chest. The dress was dark blue and long-sleeved with a corset of white designs spiralling on it.

I exhaled as I tried to gently touch the wound under my dress, but jumped immediately. The pain echoed into every ounce of me.

Then.

There was a knock at my door.

I recognized that knock.

That powerful knock.

Thorin.