A/N: Just a little 2-chapter ficlet based on a couple of lines in the story "Just Words". Since the Professor never named the father of Fili & Kili, authors have chosen various names for him. I'm going with "Vili". See notes at the end of the chapter for translations.
WARNING: Battle violence & minor-character death.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor profit from, any of JRRT's characters or places in Middle Earth. I only appreciate playing there.
DEATH AND LIFE
Chapter 1: Death
The morning dawned grey and dark with low hanging clouds on the horizon, as a chill wind whipped across the mountain swirling around the few remaining leaves. The biting nip of the breeze this early in the season boded ill for the coming winter.
Thorin Oakenshield, king of Erebor, now driven from his home by the dragon, Smaug, made his way towards the village settlement in Erid Luin. He was coming home; not to his once majestic mountain, but to the pitifully unrestored halls of Belegost and the settlement that had grown up around it. Where once the proud Dwarrow of Erebor had lived in the splendor of their mountain kingdom, in exile they had been reduced to wandering and eking out whatever living they could as miners, tinkers, and smiths.
Thorin pulled his great coat closer as the wind whipped his mostly still dark hair around his head. He was tired from making his rounds of the villages in Erid Luin. As king, albeit in exile, it was his duty to travel among his people seeing how they fared, hearing their problems, encouraging them. Undoubtedly this would be his last circuit of the season until the spring thaws reopened passageways soon to be blocked by the harsh northern winter. He longed for one of his sister's hot meals and a soft chair before her cozy fire.
Just after mid-morning, dwarf and pony passed through the gate warding their village. Thorin paused only long enough to greet the two dwarves on lookout and then quickly proceeded to stable his sturdy pony Minty. Finally his duties fulfilled, he turned towards the humble home of his sister, Dis, and brother-in-marriage, Vili.
Dis heard the front door of her home creak open and knowing it was too early to expect her husband, she dried her hands and started into the front room. She had only taken a few steps when she was nearly bowled over by a flash of golden-haired dwarfling racing past.
"Unca Thowin!" the young one cried excitedly as Thorin bent to pick him up and swing him around.
"Fili, my lad, I believe you've grown while I was away," Thorin smiled quickly then deposited his sister-son back on the floor and turned to greet his sister.
"Thorin," Dis beamed. "It's good to have you back," she said as she was pulled into a hug by her oldest brother.
Once they had broken from the embrace, Thorin held his little sister at arm's length inspecting her.
"Speaking of growing..." Thorin quipped referring to the visible evidence of her pregnancy.
Dis smacked his arm playfully. "Aye, and will be more so over the next two moons"
Thorin beamed with pride, anticipating another heir for the line of Durin. Never married himself, and not likely to do so, he considered Fili as his heir already. He would be happy to welcome a second strong dwarf lad. And since dwarf lasses were rarer than lads, he was expecting a male, although he would be thrilled to have a lass, too. She could be helpful in cementing relations with another of the clans, especially once he reclaimed Erebor.
"Now get on with you. Bathe and change while I get you something to eat," Dis smiled returning to her kitchen.
Thorin watched his little sister as she walked away. He saw her everyday dress beginning to wear thin, instead of the velvets and brocades she deserved, and noted that although her raven tresses were braided, it was in one single functional braid and not the royal ones she had worn in Erebor. He felt his heart clench knowing that as a princess she deserved so much more than this small home and her domestic responsibilities. All of the Erebor dwarrow did.
Thorin turned away making his way to the bathing room.
After a bath and clean clothes Thorin felt presentable once more and returned to the table where his sister placed a steaming bowl of stew before him. Fili sat across from his uncle, blue eyes focused on the elder dwarf who wasted no time devouring the meal. Once sated Thorin made his way to the comfy chair in front of the hearth where he settled himself, then scooped up the little dwarfling into his lap. Before long both were sleeping soundly, as evidenced by the snores, one low and sonorous, the other quiet and high-pitched.
A deep rumbling woke the exiled king from his slumber and he gently eased his way out from under his sister-son. Making his way to the window he drew back the curtain to check the weather. In the far distance flashes of lightning illumined the sky accompanied by the low growl of rolling thunder. Sighing he released the curtains, turning away, thankful that he would not be sleeping out on the road tonight.
A few moments later, the front door opened and a blond dwarf made his way inside trailing a brace of rabbits.
"Shamukh, Thorin," the sturdy dwarf reached out to grasp the other's forearm.
"Vili," Thorin returned the gesture. "Not in the mines today?"
"Nah," Vili retuned just as a small blond head poked over the arm of the chair.
"Da!" Fili bounded across the floor to grab his father's leg and Vili reached down to ruffle his son's hair."
"How's me little golden lion?"
The dwarfling, becoming shy all of a sudden, giggled and only grasped the leg harder hiding his face in his father's trousers.
Then Dis was there throwing her arms around her husband's neck and kissing him. She pulled away and took the game from his hand.
"Just two?" she asked with a frown. "We'll need more than this when winter sets in."
"Aye, miz khurdu, I know." Vili humored his wife as she turned back to the kitchen.
Turning back to Thorin, the blonde returned to their previous conversation. "Took a day out o' the mines, gotta to be puttin' meat on tha table, ya know, 'specially when yer growin' little ones," he smiled ruffling his son's hair once more.
Thorin smiled considering the striking resemblance between father and son; they had the same facial shape and golden blonde hair. But Fili had inherited the Durin blue eyes instead of his father's large chocolate ones.
"Weather turning?" Thorin asked.
"Aye, that it is. Be a storm comin' in a mite later I wager. Wind's already pickin' up. Like as not t'will be a rough one." Vili commented.
The conversation was interrupted by shouts outside and a vigorous pounding on the door, followed closely by the clanging of the village's warning bell.
"Thorin!" The booming voice belonged to Dwalin. Thorin hurried to the door throwing it open at the hint of alarm in the big warrior's tone.
Standing before Thorin was his best-friend and sword-brother, Dwalin, a large brute of a dwarf with a nearly bald but tattooed head and two massive battle axes strapped to his back.
"Orcs!"
One word. It was all Dwalin needed to say. Immediately Thorin and Vili were moving.
Mahal, couldn't I even rest the night before this happened? Thorin thought.
"Where?" the king demanded, already strapping on his sword.
"Through the east forest," Dwalin reported.
"Assemble the fighters. Warn the dwarrowdams. Assemble warriors in the square," Thorin barked orders even though he knew Dwalin had already started those vital preparations.
Dis reappeared from the kitchen, her face a mask of concern. "Why can't they just leave us alone?" she fumed, catching Vili's hand and pulling him towards her for one last kiss before he left.
"Inikhde, Vili," she whispered pulling back while holding his gaze.
"Always, mizim," he returned. "Azyung zu."
As the two warriors turned to the door, Dis grabbed her own axe and then reached for her son's hand, "Come Fili, we must be swift and quiet."
"Mukhuh Mahal udnin zu, nadad," she called after her brother as they moved through the door. Then Dis herded her son down the street to the mountain hall where the dwarrowdams and dwarflings would shelter until the threat was gone, praying to Mahal that she would not need to use her weapon today.
Soon the dwarrow stood entrenched ready to protect their homes and families. The warning had come none too soon as shortly after taking their positions, the fighters heard the blood-curdling howls and shrieks of the orc band, quickly followed by an initial volley of arrows. The dwarrow easily blocked the incoming missiles just before the front line of misshapen creatures streamed through the trees.
The band of orcs was relatively small, numbering just thirty, but had they caught the village unsuspecting, the attack would have wreaked havoc. As it was they hurled themselves viciously towards the warriors, brandishing weapons as grotesque as their own misshapen bodies.
As the first orcs charged, Thorin raised his sword shouting, "Barak khazad, Khazad ai-menu!." The dwarves took up the battle cry and advanced until the woods rang with the sound of metal against metal.
For Thorin time slowed and his focus narrowed until all he knew was the fight around him. Reflexes honed through hours of practice and years of battles moved his sword arm hacking, slashing, and stabbing his enemies almost without thought. The oakenshield he'd acquired at the Battle of Azanulbizar, served as both defensive and offensive weapon as he blocked a thrust then slammed the shield into his opponent.
Thorin Oakenshield cared little for the black blood splashed across his armor or the pile of orc pieces collecting at his feet. He twirled and cut, blocked and thrust, fueled by rage over every dwarf who had fallen to these filthy scum.
Even though his attention was trained on his attackers, Thorin was aware of Dwalin and Vili fighting on either side of him in a pattern they had grown accustomed to over the years of exile. Vili's twin swords flashed by in a blur while Dwalin wielded his axes with deadly accuracy.
The battle was brief with the orcs quickly falling prey to the dwarven onslaught. With all, save a few of the orc force, destroyed, the remaining filth turned tail to run.
"After them, let none escape," Thorin bellowed to Dwallin as the tall warrior sprinted forward in pursuit of the fleeing creatures.
At that precise moment, one of the fleeing orc archers turned and let fly an arrow aimed directly at Thorin. Turning away from the forest, the dwarf king did not see the oncoming shaft, but Vili did.
"Thorin!" Vili yelled knowing the danger.
The prince turned towards his brother-in-marriage only to be shoved to the ground as Vili slammed into him, knocking him sideways. Thorin's head impacted soundly with the ground as his vision wavered and faded for the briefest moment. Then he was shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts. When Thorin tried to rise he realized he was pinned under a weight. As his eyes refocused he saw that the weight was Vili, his throat pierced by the ill-timed arrow.
"Vili," Thorin's strangled cry rang out. He gripped the dwarf by the shoulders and moved him to lie on the ground kneeling beside him. Thorin stared in mute silence at the arrow protruding from the center of his friend's neck, knowing that there were no words of comfort to offer. Where Vili's windpipe had been transected, bright red blood mixed with air bubbled out of his neck.
Vili's left hand clutched the arrow; but with his rapidly waning strength Vili raised his right hand to sign in Iglishmek. "Care for my family."
"I will, Vili, I promise," Thorin gripped the valiant warrior's hand.
Vili blinked once in acknowledgement. Then his dark brown eyes closed forever and his hand went limp in Thorin's grasp.
"No-o-o-o!" The harsh scream ripped from Thorin's throat.
The remaining dwarrow gathered around Thorin and Vili silently paying their respects to the only dwarf to fall in the battle.
Shortly Dwalin returned from his mission walking slowly to stand at the back of the circle. It was his older brother Balin who broke the silence.
Placing his hand on Thorin's shoulder, Balin counseled, "Lad, we'll take care of Vili now. You need to go to Dis."
Thorin stood slowly and nodded turning to face his old friend. It was all Balin could do to look into Thorin's eyes for they were filled with the deep pain of loss once again. How many times had he seen that look before? After Erebor, when Thror and Frerin fell, when Thrain went missing, on the long trek to Erid Luin when so many of his people had died of starvation or the elements. Balin's heart ached for his friend and king.
Dwalin pushed past his brother to stand before his leader. Solemnly he lowered his forehead to meet Thorin's in a uniquely dwarven way of acknowledging their shared pain. When Dwalin pulled away, Thorin's gaze swept the assemblage. He knew he must address the warriors, despite his own personal agony. Just as he had been taught, it was duty first, grief later.
Thorin squared his shoulders and allowed his stern leadership mask to fall back into place.
"Well fought. Once again we have defended our home. As we return to our families, let us never forget the sacrifice of Vili, son of Alvi. May Mahal grant your spirit sleep until you find rest in the Halls of Mandos, my brother."
Thorin turned and left the group of warriors.
Thorin knew his duty was to inform his sister that her husband had fallen, but he knew he could not face her yet, still covered in black orc blood as well as Vili's precious red life blood. Quickening his steps he hurried to their house long enough to shed his armor by the door, run a wet rag across his face and hands, and shrug on a clean tunic before turning towards the mountain..
Thorin was not the first to arrive. News of the victory had spread quickly and grateful dwarrowdams and dwarflings were making their way from the hall with no little amount of cheering and nervous laughter. As soon as Dis caught sight of her brother, she ran to meet him pulling her son along by the hand.
Dis threw herself into Thorin's arms, "Oh, thank Mahal, you're safe," she breathed. Thorin squeezed her tightly, afraid to speak.
Their embrace was broken by a brilliant flash of light and instantaneous growling boom as the storm that had threatened all day started to move into the village.
"Let's go," Thorin yelled over the thunder. He quickly bent to hoist Fili onto his shoulders, then grabbing his sister by the hand, started running for home to escape the rainfall he knew was coming.
Dis ran beside her brother, but her thoughts were not on the storm. Happy as she was to see Thorin unharmed, she worried for her husband also. And yet, used to battles and exile, she could well believe Vili aiding the wounded or cleaning up the battle site. Dis could believe that...except for one thing.
She had seen Thorin come from the battlefield before, filthy, covered in mud and in so much blood that she couldn't even tell if it was his own or not. She had never seen him come from the field clean and without armor.
Frantically, Dis swiveled her head around to look at other scurrying bodies. She saw a few warriors still armed and bearing their weapons. Her mind froze on a single thought- where is Vili?
Within feet of their door, Dis stopped yanking her hand from her brother's grasp. "Where's Vili?" she screamed.
Thorin turned to meet her frantic gaze. He lifted little Fili down telling him to go inside out of the rain and watched as the dwarfling rushed to the door.
"Dis," Thorin tried to keep his voice even. "Let's go inside."
Dis's eyes widened; her axe dropped as her hands flew to cover her mouth. She shook her head and then turned to run away from her brother.
Thorin reached out and grabbing her arm pulled her to him even as she struggled to free herself. Finally he picked her up and carried her to the house as she kicked and pounded on his chest.
As he reached the door, Thorin hissed in his sister's ear, "Don't do this in front of Fili." He carried her through the door and set her down.
Apparently his words reached her. Dis turned to her young son, "Go play in your room, Fili. Your Uncle and I need to talk. I'll come for you later," she instructed.
Fili stared up at his mother for a moment, a questioning look on his face, then dutifully turned and scurried off.
Once she heard the door to her son's room close, Dis turned to her brother, "Thorin, where's Vili?" It was more than a question; it was a plea, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Dis," Thorin started.
"Just tell me," she screamed.
"I'm sorry, Dis, Vili fell," he managed softly.
Dis shook her head, chanting, "No...no...no...no...no..."
Thorin pulled her close and held her tightly as she cried, as she pounded her fists against him, venting her rage over so many losses at the hands of the vile orcs: her grandfather, her brother, so many other friends and relatives, and now her Vili, her One.
"He fought bravely, Dis. It was an honorable death" Thorin tried to comfort his grieving sister. He wasn't good at this. For years he'd locked his own feelings away to avoid the agony of loss, and now when he needed to comfort his sister, he did not know the right words. "He saved my life."
Dis pulled back far enough to look up to him. She nodded once and then wailed, collapsing against his chest. Gently Thorin guided his sister until she was sitting on the ground still cradled in his arms as she wept.
The exiled king could do no more than recite the traditional Khuzdul Words of Mourning: Umhudizu tadaizd ku' adruthizd, Mahal, murukitizd udu charach bakhuzizu ra udnin izd ana ghiluz nur.
Outside the rain pelted down in torrents, sometimes blown almost sideways by the vicious winds that whipped through the village, wailing as if echoing Dis's anguish, as Thorin rocked her back and forth as if she were a small dwarfling.
Slowly Dis's sobbing quieted and she pulled away from Thorin's arms. Wiping the remaining tears from her eyes, she sat back fixing Thorin with her blue gaze.
"What am I to do now, brother?" The words rasped from her sobbing-ravaged throat. She sounded so hopeless and lost, and yet there was the undercurrent of Dwarrow strength rooted in the stone of the very mountains.
"You'll do as we have always done," Thorin returned flatly. "We are heirs of Durin; we go on.
For long moments she met her brother's gaze. Then Dis nodded and rose to her feet smoothing her skirt. She swiped her sleeve across her face to remove at least some of her tears.
"I'll go get Fili. He's probably frightened of this storm," In command of herself once more, Dis walked away.
When she returned, she carried her son. Setting him down on the sofa, she took a seat beside him. Silently she invited her brother to join them, and he took a seat at Fili's other side.
"Fili, we need to tell you something," Dis began.
The small blonde could feel the tension in the room as he looked from one somber face to the other.
"Your Da," Dis swallowed hard before going on. "Your Da is not coming home."
"Where he go?" Fili chirped not understanding. "Come 'morrow? He said he play dragon wif me.
"No, my little lion," Dis pulled the dwarfling onto her lap and smoothed his hair. "Your Da can't come back. You see, he's gone to the Halls of Mandos; and one day we'll go there to see him, but he won't come back here to us."
"But I not want him go away. I want Da! Doesn't he wuv us? " The timbre of Fili's voice began to escalate as tears began spilling over his cheeks.
Dis rocked her son gently, just as her brother had done for her. "Da loves us very much. So much that he went out to fight the orcs to protect us."
"He back when orcs go?" Fili's innocent sincerity was gut-wrenching to the two older dwarves.
Dis merely looked to her brother, silently pleading for him to explain where she had failed. She had hoped that here in Ered Luin her son would be shielded from all the grief and loss that she and her brother had known, but she was wrong. She passed her son over to Thorin.
"Fili, lad, you know when you play war and you hit your Da with the wooden sword." The golden dwarfling nodded, eyes glued to his uncle's face, trying to understand. "When you hit him he falls down and you win."
Fili nodded.
"Well, an orc hit your Da and he fell down. It hit him so badly that he won't ever get up again." Thorin did his best to explain in terms he thought his young sister-son could understand.
"Never, ever?" Fili squeeked.
"Never, ever," Thorin nodded solemnly. "But then Mr. Dwalin hit that orc and it won't ever get up again either.
Suddenly Fili's eyes widened. "Like when pony step on Kitty-kitty, 'n' she go 'way?"
"Yes, Fili, that's exactly how," Thorin seemed relieved at the youngster's comprehension.
"We put kitty-kitty in hole 'n' cover her up. I no want Da in hole." Tears fell in earnest then as his dwarfling mind began to grasp what his uncle had said. Fili dropped his eyes to look at his little hands.
"I know, Fili, but that's how we honor our loved ones who go away to the Halls. We have a ceremony to then we say goodbye to them because we won't see them again here. But they watch over us," Thorin still didn't think he was very good at explaining death to a wee one.
"Da will watch me?" Fili's head popped up hopefully.
"Oh, yes, love," Dis takes back over to reassure her son. "Your Da will always watch over us and he will always love us, too. And do you know what else?"
Fili shook his head, staring up at his mother.
"He'll be very proud of you because you will be strong, like a Prince of Durin should be. Can you do that, little one?" Dis smiled as she wiped tears from her son's eyes.
"I be strong. Make Da proud," Fili asserted.
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation and Thorin rose to answer, finding his very wet cousin Balin on the stoop. As the elder dwarf stepped into the house, a hefty gust of wind drove rain in behind him.
Balin nodded to Thorin then stepped towards the other two in the room. "My deepest regrets, Dis, Fili. I am ever at your service." He bowed, hand on heart.
"Thank you, Balin," Dis returned. "You have always been a faithful friend. Thank you."
Dis rose holding her son, "Fili, if you'll go play in your room, I'll get you something to eat. It is getting late."
When Dis returned, she was alone, and headed to the kitchen to prepare food for them. She dutifully scooped the remaining stew into bowls and set out bread and cheese. She took Fili's supper to his room and then returned crossing to the counter to grab her mug.
With ale in hand Dis turned back towards the table, when her eyes strayed to the two rabbits Vili had brought home mere hours ago. The mug slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor. Her hands flew to her face as a sob slipped from her lips. Thorin was at her side in a moment, placing his arms around her shoulders and guiding her to the table.
Thorin proceeded to clean up the broken shards and brought another mug of ale to the table for his distraught sister.
"Forgive me," Dis asked, "I am still in shock."
Balin patted her hand in comfort, fearing that this was going to be a very long night.
A/N: Shamuckh- Hail, greeting
Miz khurdu= My heart
Inikhde- Return to me
Mizim- Darling
Azyung zu- Love you
Mukhuh Mahal udninzu, Nadad- May Mahal keep you, brother
Barak Khazad, Khazad ai-menu- Axes of the dwarves, the dwarves are upon you
Umhudizu tadaizd ku' adruthizd, Mahal, murukhjzd udu charach bakhuzizu ra udnin izd ana ghiluz nur= (Words of Mourning) Bless those who mourn, Creator, shield them from the pain with your hammer and guide them to a new day.
(Yes, I know the accents aren't in place. Don't quite know how to do that yet. Sorry.)
There will be 1 more chapter encompassing the remainder of the night and Kili's birth. Hope you enjoyed. Please R&R.