Star-Crossed

Chapter 22

When he arrived he was met by a deafening scream. Dwalin sat in the chair closest to the door, he winced when he looked up, giving Thorin a nod. Balin was sitting next to Beuren, their hands stacked on one another’s trying to muffle the harsh noise from Fili’s ears. Dosdrat must have been in the back with Dis, and by now was completely deaf. The screaming stopped and Thorin hurried to his seat so it looked like he’d been there the whole time. There was no cry, only a small infant squeal then silence. The healer hurried out of the room, baby in hand. Beuren and Thorin stood.

“She is in bad shape; we don’t want his first memory to be of her death.”

“She’d dying?!” Beuren whisper yelled at him.

“No, but if we can’t get the bleeding to stop, it’s possible.”

“You best get back in there then!” Thorin barked. The healer glared and shoved the baby roughly into Beuren’s arms.

“Why do I always get the baby?” She muttered. She took Fili’s shoulder and guided him out of the house, Dwalin close behind. The four of them made their way to Dwalin’s home, it was closest. He made a seat for her on the couch, wrapping her and the baby in enough blankets to drown them. Fili took a few off of them and wrapped himself in them. With a sigh he plopped down next to Beuren, snuggling into her side. Auntie Beuren pulled him closer, smiling down at him. Dwalin had sat in front of them on a short stool Fili usually occupied.

“Ta tereva, Fili, ta tereva.” She whispered, Fili took a deep breath and melted into her side. When she spoke in the foreign tongue of the elves, it always soothed him. She’d started doing it when he was an infant. Dis had come to her, sobbing from lack of sleep. She took the child in her arms and spoke to him words of the elven dialect, he slept almost instantly. 

Dwalin sat across from them, staring at the babe in Beuren’s arms. He, the child, was awake, his small hands holding tightly to the tail of the elf’s braid. She gently ran the pad of her finger over the back of the child’s hand. Quicker than they’d expected, he took hold of her finger. She stared down at him, a kind but intense look in her eye, then her smile broadened.

“This one,” She said, looking up at Dwalin. “I will train.” He smiled.

“And why is that?”

“His quickness.” She almost whispered. “He is going to be an archer, I can feel it, so can he.” Dwalin grinned at her, then patting her leg stood.

“I should go check up on her, you know where everything is?”

“Where it’s always been.” She replied with a nod. He half hoped she would stop him and ask him to stay, not wanting to know what would happen next. But she was too strong for that, so he turned and left, hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

Dis had made it. She was resting now, the healer’s patience was all but spent and he wanted nothing more than to behead everyone in the room. Thorin sat quietly next to his sister, stroking her hair comfortingly. Dwalin entered, glancing at his brother for answers. Balin explained what he’d missed, and that the groups little sister was alright. Dosdrat looked beyond exhaustion, he knew his children were in good hands, and that they’d be alright, so he slowly dozed off in the chair. Everyone waited another two hours before leaving, just in case.

The three dwarves, Dwalin, Balin and Thorin, made their way back to Dwalin’s home. They were silent, but all shared a glance at one another. One last weary sigh escaped Thorin’s lips then he pushed open the door, holding it for the older two. Balin led them inside and into the den. He froze however, so suddenly that Dwalin, the great brute, nearly plowed over him. Thorin and Dwalin looked at Balin then followed his gaze.