Star-Crossed

Chapter 26

 Something in her tone made him instantly regret what he’d said. Or, perhaps it was the way her eyes filled with tears when she stared down at him from her horse. The way her eyes begged him to change his mind, how her lip trembled ever so slightly, when her breath caught in her throat, everything made him want to change his mind, but Thorin stayed silent. With a soft sigh she nodded and nudged her horse forward.

Thorin listened as the echoing of Beleg’s hooves faded. Then he leaned against the side of the stall, cradling his head in his hand. With a small sigh he told himself not to shed a tear. He heard footsteps behind him, heavy booted footsteps. He turned, the brothers stood, Balin and Dwalin.

“Dis is asleep, Fili and Kili to.” Dwalin said.

“Where in the hell is she going?” Balin barked.

“Away.”

“Why?”

“Because I told her to!” Thorin snapped in return.

“Thorin…”

“Balin, I am not in the mood for second guessing! I am King, and what I say goes! Do you understand?” Balin stared at him, then nodded.

“Yes, my lord.” He said, and then bowing mockingly, turned. Dwalin followed, no bothering to bow or say anything.  

That night, Dwalin and Balin sat together in the large study of Balin’s home. Books of every sort sat on shelves, the worn leather spines facing out, gold or silver scrawl on the outside. Their color arrayed from a deep velvet red to a light sandy brown. Few were encrusted with gems along the spines and fronts, but almost every single one had a piece of ribbon hanging limply down the side, marking Balin’s place in the books. A few scrolls were tucked away on shelves; their contents were unknown to Dwalin. Loose leafs of parchment were spread messily around several desks, quills and ink bottles were dispersed randomly around the room, but there was always one close at hand.

Balin motioned to a chair beside the fireplace. Dwalin took a seat, his brother in the chair beside him. Moments passed by like hours. They just sat, staring into the embers, replaying the scenes of that day. For Dwalin, it was not the memory of his friends death that rocked him, but Beuren’s small body shaking with sobs. The only person to this day that had ever seen her cry, like sobbing until she couldn’t stand, had been Thorin, and he hadn’t been one to talk about it. It scared him, was all he ever said. Now Dwalin could see why.

As for Balin, he would be forever haunted by the heart wrenching look on the prince’s faces. He had been the one to tell them, Dis wouldn’t let Thorin leave her, and Dwalin had been preoccupied with getting Dosdrat’s corpse out of the public eye. That left Balin to do the work, speaking that Beuren was raising hell in her own home, yes, he’d heard it, but let her be.

Fili tried to stay strong, and did well for several minutes. But inevitably, the dam broke. He broke down, falling to his knees in the middle of their shared room. Kili grew confused. Too young to grasp the concept of death, he looked up at Balin, tears flooding his big brown eyes. He kneeled next to Fili and then looked back up at Balin.

“Gone? But Daddys coming back right?” He spoke slowly.

“No, Kili, Dad’s not coming home.” Fili replied. Kili took a moment to process this new information. Then he fell beside Fili, nestling into his side and began to wail as well.

Now, they were alone, Dwalin and Balin, the only two who knew of the newly added tragedy, Beuren’s exile. With a heavy sigh, the older of the two leaned back into his chair, pulling a flask he kept hidden in his inside jacket pocket. Rarely did he drink from it, but now was a time that required a drink. He passed the bitter liquid off to his brother, who gladly took it.