Star-Crossed

Chapter 6

“Father?” She asked quietly. He nodded, opening his arms to her. Slowly she stepped forward. It had been so long since she’d seen him, but those eyes, she could never forget. She wrapped her arm around his torso, hiding her tears in his jacket. He stroked her hair, tugging lightly at the end of her braid.

“It’s clear to me you’ve been spending too much time with those dwarves, you’ve all but destroyed your ears.” He joked. She laughed a little, wiping away a stray tear.

“Where have you been? I missed you.” She choked out, a new wave of tears streaking her cheeks. He smiled and took her into another tight hug, minding her arm. She hugged back but pulled away at the sound of a woman screaming.

“Vanya.”

“I know!” The three of them hustled to the back of the house. A woman, blonde, beautiful, and quite young, was laying in the spare bed. Her stomach was enormous, pregnant.

“Who’s she?” Vanya looked up at Arador, Beuren’s father.

“His wife.”

“WIFE?!” Beuren roared. “You run off and abandon us, then marry her?! What were we, your mistake? Was I your mistake?”

“I’M NOT…” He took a deep breath and looked at his daughter. “I’m not going to talk about this right now.” His daughter turned and left the room. The shrieking of the wife was starting to get on her nerves, because of that she started fiddling with her knife, she wondered if she shouldn’t just let the knife slip out of her hand when she threw it. The screaming stopped, all was silent, and then it happened, the crying of the newborn. She stood, making her way to the door. Beuren hesitated, but then pushed the door open.

“Beuren, love, I need you to take him, she’s got to rest.” Elendil took the infant and looked at it. It was quite ugly, really. All wrinkled and red, it looked like a rotten tomato, about the size of three of them; he was quite small for a baby. He had quit crying and was happily sleeping in her arm. She sat down and stacked a few pillows under the baby so she could still keep a hold of him with one arm.

Beuren looked at the child; slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her, his green eyes gazed at her. She rubbed the back of the baby’s hand with the pad of her finger; he still looked up at her, happily. The wrinkled tomato baby seemed to know who she was, even before he knew who he was.

“Arathorn.” She whispered, he responded with a laugh. “Arathorn, son of Arador, the next Dúnedain Chieftain. I guarantee you will be raised in Rivendell, by lord Elrond no doubt, he raised your father, and his father before him, and all your forefathers.” He looked at her, as if he understood. “I am Beuren, Beuren Elendil, daughter of Arador, your half-sister, and the mistake.” He took hold of her finger and looked up at his sister.

“The mother wants to see him.” Vanya hissed venomously. She took the baby and gave it to Arador. “I want you out of my house, now, go. Take your family with you.” Beuren could feel a fight coming on. Grabbing her cloak she snuck out the door.

Several months had passed, Vanya and Beuren had hardly spoken a word unless they were fighting. She didn’t ask how her daughter’s arm was, or how it happened. When Beuren got the splint off she started getting into the fights more than usual now that she had no weakness. One night, the fighting became too much, Beuren left, running her way to the mountain, why she hadn’t an idea, but she needed somewhere to stay, somewhere away from Vanya.

Thrain stretched. He sat up and rolled his shoulders a little then looked over at his still sleeping wife. Pulling the covers over her shoulder, he dressed, and went to go check on Dis, she hadn’t felt good when she crawled in bed the night before, he just wanted to be sure. As he turned to start down the hall he noticed something leaning against Thorin’s door. He stopped and turned around, looking closer at it. Sure enough, Beuren was asleep, leaning against his son’s door. He tapped her foot with his, waking her up. She groaned and stretched her arms, then looked up at him.

“Hi.” She said, trying to smile through her grogginess.

“What are you doing here?” He laughed.

“Ah, let me just say, no, I was not here to scare you and or anyone else, I really didn’t have much of a place to go. Let us just say that I wasn’t wanted much at home last night.” She said struggling to her feet. Thrain steadied her and led her to Dis’s room.

“She’s got a big bed, go head and share with her, your welcome here anytime, now get some sleep.” She barely got her boots off before she collapsed on her back into the down pillow and the world’s softest bed. When she woke, several hours later, Dis was snuggled into her side. With a smile she shook her awake.

“C’mon little one, it’s about noon I suppose, we should probably get up so we can sleep tonight." The little dwarf smiled and stretched.

“Probably right.” She said, and then promptly dozed off on Beuren’s shoulder. Beuren smiled and closed her eyes, sleep returning to her quickly. Several more hours later Beuren woke again. Keeping her eyes closed she reached out to her right, where Dis once laid, no one. She sighed heavily, not wanting to get up or open her eyes, only wanting to rest more and stay in the warm comfy bed in which she occupied. Finally she decided to open her eyes.

The drapes were still closed, a dim yellow light shone all around the edges, lighting the room with a golden glow. The events of the previous night still ran through her mind. That led to the arousal of other memories. Seeing her father again, hoping that this time he would stay, only to find out she has a brother and he’s now married to another woman. Her stomach knotted, at the thought. With a deep breath, she pushed the thoughts away, locking them in a secret box in her mind that even she would have a hard time finding.

The door opened a crack; a sapphire gaze was on her, with a smile she sat up a little more. Thorin entered the room, a small smile playing at his lips, he took a seat on the edge of the bed near her legs.

“You should have woken me up; I would have given you my bed.” He laughed. She grinned.

“No, it was fine.” She stretched and shifted her body so she was sitting next to him.

“Dwalin said that he wasn’t overly impressed with you missing practice today.” Thorin smirked. Beuren snorted.

“Who is he kidding! I’m his favorite!”

“I wouldn’t go that far!”

“Any word on Kirdral?” She asked, slipping her arms through the holes in her bodice, lacing it up as she paced around the room looking for her boots that had mysteriously disappeared. The dwarf had been giving Thorin hell for the last several months, when he all of a sudden stopped, they didn’t see him again until the night before last, but he hadn’t spoken a word to Beuren, she’d left at the beginning of the conversation anyways.