Star-Crossed

Chapter 64

"Poor souls." Balin said, tears welling in his eyes. Gloin fought to keep his composure, the thought of losing his brother driving him to tears. Bilbo turned away, not wanting to see such death and destruction. He looked back to his leader, Thorin stood tall, eyes transfixed on the mountain behind them. 

Suddenly, the world seemed to stop. Bilbo turned, watching as Smaug rose into the air. It was quite a distance, but Bilbo swore he saw the glint of something streaking through the air at the dragon. Smaug went rigid, then limp, and finally fell to earth, landing square in the center of the lake. 

"He fell." The company stood on edge, all scanning the sky and the surface of the lake. "I saw it, he fell." Bilbo couldn't help his smile. "He's dead. Smaug is dead!" 

"By my beard! I think he's right! Look there! The ravens of Erebor are returning to the mountain!" Gloin pointed to the sky, the large black birds seemed to swarm the sky. 

"The ravens." A wheezy tone came from behind them, they all turned. "Ravens..." Thorin stepped aside, eyes wide as she hobbled out of the rubble. Beuren stood shakily, watching the sun rise. The rising sun brought with it light, light that showed the extent of her injuries. The entire left side of Beuren's upper body had been scorched, her charred flesh looked like ash in the light of the sun. Her left eye was gone, liquified by the heat one could presume. Her shirt was nearly nonexistent, only the remnants of her left sleeve remaining. Her face was a sight to behold, the burns spanning from her hairline to her jaw, cheek half melted away. "We've won." She said slowly, her right eye rolling back as her body went limp. 

Dwalin lunged forward, catching Beuren before she hit the stone below. He lifted her into his arms, looking to Thorin in shock. His King stepped back a pace, scrunching his nose from the smell of burnt flesh. Cradling her in his arms, Dwalin gently tried to wake Beuren. When she did not, he felt for a pulse. It was there, beating strong, mush stronger than he'd expected it to be. Again, Dwalin looked to Thorin for instruction. 

Balin's heart shattered when Thorin turned away from Beuren. His brother's eyes turned to him, desperation and fear evident in his blue irises. Bilbo raced forward, removing his jacket and setting it over Beuren's burns. 

"We have to keep them clean until Oin arrives." He nodded, green in the face. "Thorin, is there some place we can take her?" 

"Somewhere in the mountain I suppose." Thorin said absentmindedly. Frustrated, the Hobbit turned to Balin. 

"You know the mountain well, where can we put her where she'll be safe?" 

"Follow me laddie." Balin led the way to the King's quarters. Dwalin, still holding Beuren, followed in suit. Bilbo periodically turned to check on her, to make sure she was breathing, her heart was beating, she was still asleep. Dwalin nearly tripped over him a number of times, taking deep breaths and reminding himself that Bilbo was just being kind. It made it no less infuriating. 

Balin threw back the neatly tucked blankets in Thorin's old quarters. Not a speck of dust lay beneath the heavy woolen blanket, it would due to keep her wound protected until Oin could...hopefully...help her. It was only then that Balin began to realize the extent of their situation: Bofur, Oin, and the Princes may very well be dead. If so, then Beuren needed to be taken to a healer. His worry began to rise when her eyes fluttered open. 

"Bilbo, go fetch Thorin." Balin whispered, Bilbo nodded, padding out the door."Hello, little one." He said, taking her hand in his. She offered a weak, pained smile in reply. "Everyone is alright, we made it to the forges, smoked out the dragon-" Balin smiled sadly. "All thanks to you." 

"Aye, had you not done what you did lass, there would have been casualties." Her charred fingers reached for Dwalin as he spoke. He knelt beside her bed, encompassing her hand so softly one might have thought he was holding the thinnest of glass. "You were very brave, Beuren." His eyes locked with hers. "Now it's time to rest. To heal. Let us shoulder the burdens." 

"Thorin?" She croaked. "Where is Thorin?" 

"He'll be along." Balin reassured. 

"He's sick." She fought to sit herself up. "It's taken him. The gold. It's the dragon sickness." Dwalin rose, carefully lying her back into her pillow. "I have to help him."

"There is nothing you can do in such a state, Beuren." Balin sat beside her. "You must rest. You will need your strength." She looked between the two, her eyes...eye...full of concern. Nodding, she settled back into the pillow, allowing Dwalin to pull the sheet up over her burns. Both dwarves turned, heading into the hall only to find a very disgruntled Hobbit awaiting them.