Star-Crossed

Chapter 68

"Do you want to start with your eye or the burns?" Oin asked after Kili, Fili, and Balin had cleared out. 

"Which will hurt less?" 

"They'll all be about the same, hopefully you'll pass out sooner than later." Beuren let out a shaky breath, tears filling her eye. 

"Ok. Your pick." 

"Burns it is then." 

Oin had been at it for nearly an hour. He'd completely finished her arm, bandaging it up before starting on her shoulder and chest. The salve was thick, putting it on was a chore, especially with all of Beuren's squirming. That wasn't even the worst of it though. For a straight hour, Beuren hadn't stopped screaming, writing in pain beneath Dwalin's strong hands as he fought to hold her steady. She hadn't passed out at all, which only made Dwalin and Oin sick to their stomachs. Just trying to imagine the pain she was in made Dwalin dizzy. 

Another thirty minutes only accounted for more screaming. Balin shook his head as the sound reverberated around the hall. Fili-jaw clenched-fought the urge to say something to his Uncle. Bilbo wiped at his eyes, sniffling as he returned to sorting through the gold piles. It took all of Bofur's might to keep Kili where he was, hidden from view of Thorin behind a mountain of treasure. He whispered at him to calm down, that Beuren was going to be ok, but this only seemed to anger him more. 

"Just pass out already, lass." Dwalin begged as Beuren thrashed. He was sitting over her, pinning her right arm to her chest and trying to keep her face turned away. "Please." 

"Alright, that's it. I can't do any more right now. I'm deaf and my ears are ringing." Oin sat back on his heels. "I'm wrapping her shoulder and we'll do her face in a bit. Let her catch her breath. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll knock out." Beuren sobbed below them, her tears only burning her injuries more as she tried to hide her face on the cold stone beneath her. "In the meantime, I'm going to go get some water boiling. If she's not out by then, we'll have to use a hammer." Oin limped away, muttering about his back as he searched for something suitable to boil water in. Dwalin released Beuren, moving off of her and getting to his feet, his own back popping more than he'd like to admit. 

"Don't leave me, please don't leave me." 

"I'm right here." He sighed, looking down at her. "I'm not going anywhere, lass." 

"Remember when we were young and invincible and all of our injuries seemed to disappear after a few days?" Dwalin chuckled. 

"Aye." 

"Why did that have to end?" He took a seat on the floor beside her.

"Age kicks us all in the teeth eventually." 

"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I should have listened to you-"

"What's done is done, Beuren." He smoothed her hair back. "Just, next time...listen to me?" She smiled weakly, nodding her head in agreement. "How's your pain?" 

"Unbearable." 

"Do you want me to find you a bottle? I'm sure there's something strong enough in one of the old pubs to put you under for a while, or at least make you not care."

"No, I'll manage." He wasn't sure he could though. 

As the evening came to a close, Bombur and Bilbo set to making a meal out of what rations they had left. Over a small fire, they pieced together a stew with everything in it but dust and cobwebs. Balin and Dwalin stood in the corner, quietly talking about Beuren. The ordeal had ended several hours prior. She'd finally passed out after Oin poured the nearly scalding water into her eye socket, leaving Dwalin to carry her back to the room she'd been staying in. 

Across the way, Kili and Fili spoke in hushed tones. They conversed about their Uncle. How he'd snapped at Kili when he asked to go visit Beuren for a moment to check on her. What he'd said to Balin when the dwarf stopped to rest his old bones for a moment. He'd changed, and it terrified them.

The stew was nothing spectacular, in fact it was rather bland. Left over potatoes and cured meat, no carrots, celery, or seasonings save the little bit of salt Bilbo found in the kitchen one of the nearby homes. He began passing out bowls when his rather large ears caught the sound of bare feet on stone. Turning from Nori, he watched Beuren slowly descending the stairs. She seemed unsure, her depth perception shot after losing her eye, but she took the stairs one at a time until she'd reached the bottom one. Bilbo quickly ladled some soup into a tankard and set it on the table, trying to not rush her as he moved to her side. 

"I broke my arm once, when I was a wee hobbit." He said, taking her hand and leading her towards the table, one hand resting on her back to steady her. "It was just before the start of winter and my mother usually made soup all winter long. She started putting mine in a large teacup, that way I could eat it with one hand." He helped her sit, turning the tankard around so she could grip the handle with her right hand, her left hanging in a makeshift sling.

"Thank you, Bilbo." Beuren looked up at him around her bandages. "I appreciate it." 

"And if you need more, let us know!" Bofur said, looking down at their meager portions. "The healin' body needs lots of fuel."

"This should be plenty." Beuren said, also taking note of the small portions. "Really, thank you all." Bilbo finished passing out bowl and spoons, turning to the last bowl. 

"Should I take some to Thorin?" Balin looked back at the Hobbit, unsure of how to answer.

"I will." Beuren took the bowl from Bilbo. "You eat." The Prince's rose to follow her but were stopped by Dwalin's hard stare. She wanted to go on her own...and Dwalin would follow her there in a moment. 

The walk to the throne room was quite tedious. It took Beuren much longer than she'd care to admit. The elf didn't remember there being so many stairs when she was young. As she climbed the last set into the throne room, a deep voice greeted her like shards of glass. 

"Better I see." She paused, carefully turning around on the stairs. 

"A little. Everything still burns, of course." 

"No doubt." He said blandly, as though he had grown tired of speaking with her. 

"Um, I brought you stew. Bilbo and Bombur whipped it up just a bit ago." She held it out to him. 

"It might be a little cold, I sort of got turned around, it's been a while." Thorin looked down his nose at the stew.