Everlong

75

Thorin was waiting for it really, he couldn't even deny it; he was waiting for Thranduil to plainly confront him. It was going to happen, it was just the matter of when. Thorin actually hated waiting, especially for this. He wasn't going to confront the elf, the thought had his expression darkening quite considerably. He was with it enough to witness Liruliniel be carried off, just as he was being escorted into another tent to be looked over. Thranduil and Elrond had entered the tent with her, and a little while later on, it was just them two who exited.

He hoped his friend was fine, but really, was he a fool to hope? Thorin had seen the damage dealt to her, Liruliniel was barely able to stand during the fight with Azog, let alone before that. She had rushed into battle readily without question, and she had come off worse for it. Thorin remembered all too well the weight of her laying in his arms, her smile was kind and her eyes a little distant, but she stared happily at him. If he spoke to her, she replied, if not a little slowly. Thorin had seen death, he had faced death, he knew death had many faces, and he did believe he was watching the slow death of his friend. And that pained him. Of course it pained him more to think that she possibly could die to heal him.

Thorin had made facts and peace with the likelihood of his demise. It was a sacrifice he was willing to give, if it meant his kin were back within Erebor. He could rest easy forever more knowing the dwarves had the kingdom back, and that the dragon was long gone. But now? Thorin was under no illusion, he was truly to become king now, he would take over from where his grandfather and father left off; even if the latter was a king in exile more than anything. It didn't matter. He had secretly vowed to himself that he would not be like either. He had already done that and it had ended terribly, he had lost friends during that time, even if he had gained them back.

He flexed his hand slowly, the stab wound from Azog had been healed quite well by Liruliniel. Though it didn't mean that it wasn't still dressed and his shoulder wrapped in many gauzes. He could feel his grip was weaker than usual, but what was he expecting? Instant healing and being back to full strength? Even he wasn't that foolish. Naturally, seeing him able and up had caused his nephews to be excitable, they were more excited with walking through the freed kingdom properly with their uncle. Before wasn't right, it was wrong, this was going to be genuine now. All was well and good until a messenger bird arrived, a beautiful black raven, Balin had taken the note from it and looked it over while at the time Thorin was being bandaged up; Fíli and Kíli were confused, Balin had muttered before looking sheepishly between the three males, he had merely uttered one word, one name, and the excitement had dwindled slightly.

Dís was coming. Dís, just the thought had Thorin, Fíli and Kíli silent as the healer finished up bandaging up any grazes, cuts and injuries upon the brothers too. Thorin wasn't sure whether he was ready for his sister. He would rather this argument with Thranduil over his sister; now that was saying something, Thorin knew where he stood with Thranduil, Dís though? Oh no, she was likely to preach and lecture and have some comment or another. It was her way, she couldn't help it, but Thorin wasn't sure he was prepared.

Luckily, the journey from Ered Luin would take Dís and whomever was with her a while. That would give the uncle and nephews time to prepare for the storm. Even more luckily, the tent flaps opened and a rather hostile distraction was now in place, Thorin's thoughts drifted from his younger sister to Thranduil. Thorin had to admit he was angrier looking then what he thought he would be. He had changed out of his armour, the bloodstains on his skin washed away, yet his expression still blank; it was his eyes, if looks could kill Thorin would be on the floor, any healing would've been for nothing. Thorin knew Thranduil would be angry. He just didn't know how angry until he looked at him, now he was basically standing over him while Thorin remained sitting on the small bunk, he got it, he felt it, like a rolling wave the negative feelings were just flowing from Thranduil.