Star-Crossed

Chapter 25

Thorin was too surprised to say or do anything. He wasn’t sure what he’d just seen. She was folded in half now, both of her hands tangled in her hair. She choked for air and rock slightly on her knees. A heavy hand was set on his shoulder, Balin nodded, confirming that he’d seen what just happened.

“Well we cannot just let her drown her own tears.” Dwalin grumbled to his two comrades. He stepped forward, taking her shoulders in his hands. Kneeling down beside her he looked at her. “Beuren? Are you alright?”

“No I’m not alright!” She howled. “I just saw another person I was close to die because of me. And then to top it off, I just completely lost my shit! No I’m not alright Dwalin!” He raised an eyebrow in agreement and hauled her to her feet. She leaned heavily into his side, clutching to his shirt.

Thorin wasn’t sure how he felt about the scene. At this point he couldn’t be sure if those were real tears. They had to be, she never was one for acting. But how she’d reacted, that was unseen. Unexpected. Frightening. He wanted to comfort her, but something inside him said that he needed to stay away. Thorin stared at her, Dwalin trying his best to comfort her, but it seemed to do nothing.

“Go to her, Thorin.” Balin said. “She needs you now, you are to her as she is to you, you are her rock. You keep each other steady. Go to her.” He said, his eyes full of sorrow.

“I… I…” Thorin stuttered. “I can’t.” He whispered. Balin looked up at him. “First my brother, my grandfather, now him. Who’s next?” Thorin’s eldest companion nodded.

“I understand. But what you don’t is that she didn’t choose for them to die trying to protect her. It just happened.” Balin snapped. Thorin didn’t protest. He hadn’t grieved properly for his brother and grandfather, now this. All the anger and sadness came crashing down upon him. And on top of it, Beuren’s meltdown, what was it she’d said to the orc, what had she done?

“Dosdrat! Dosdrat? Where is he, where is my husband?” Dis said, Kili clutched tightly to her hand, Fili grew teary eyed. Once her eyes fell on the stretcher, she grew pale. She dropped her boy’s hands and ran forward. Dwalin caught her and kept her from getting close. Fili held Kili close, tears streaking his cheeks. Kili, too young to process what happened looked up at Beuren. She looked at him, blinked then turned away, starting up the stairs.

Dis had fallen to her knees; a crowd had gathered all tearing up. Dwalin cradled his King’s sister. Looking for Beuren, only to find her gone, Dwalin handed Dis off to Thorin. She sobbed into Thorin’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, sorry wouldn’t come close to comforting her, and so he just held her. Fili came over, getting to his knees, he hugged his mother. She wrapped him in a hug as well; Kili curled up in her lap, resting his head on her shoulder. Thorin enclosed him in the embrace as well.

Thorin stood, pulling his sister up with him. Fili and Kili followed them up stairs to his home. Meanwhile, Balin and Dwalin were giving out orders to the guards. They wanted their friend to be hidden from the public eye. They didn’t want him to be remembered for this. The brother’s ushered the stretcher away.

Beuren was gasping for breath. Her home was in ruins. Bottles were broken, cabinet doors hanging on by a single hinge, book cases toppled over, papers and books littered the floor, nothing was spared from her wrath. She was in her room now, packing a bag, nothing special, just one or two changes of clothes, and a few sharpening stones, a comb and several other necessities.

She swiftly gathered her weapons. Beuren strapped her quiver and bow over her right shoulder. In the small of her back she placed two twin daggers, gifts from Elrond upon her departure from Rivendell. A sword hung from her left hip, a double sided battle axe over her left shoulder. She placed knives strategically on herself. Then slid her rarely used war hammer into her belt on the right side.

During her time with Arathorn, she had acquired many new skills; one of her best was going unseen. A skill she rarely used, but came in very handy at the present time. She pulled the hood of her cloak up, and then stormed out of her home, pulling her small bag out of the door behind her. She took the stairs two at a time, no one saw her, and no one heard her. They only caught a slight draft in the air.

When she reached the stables, she sighed. No one to say good bye to here, no one at all as a matter of fact. She lifted her saddle onto Beleg. He stood calmly as she placed his bridle on. Beuren rested her head momentarily on Beleg’s forehead. Then she stepped around him and to his side.

“Where are you going?” A voice echoed in the empty stable. She closed her eyes resting her head on the fender of her saddle. “Beuren?”

“I’m leaving.”

“I see that. But where to?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. “But it is for your own good.” She added.

“My own good? Really? You leaving me is for my own good?” Thorin scoffed.

“Thorin I’m not good for you.”

“You weren’t saying that this morning when you were wrapped in my arms hiding from the storm! You weren’t saying that earlier when you said you wanted to wed!”

“Thorin…”

“Beuren. The boys lost their father. Dis lost her husband. I lost a brother and friend. And now you. You are running away from it as if it will all just fade away.”

“I am not running.” Her tone was laced with venom. “If you think for one second that I am running…”

“Then what is this?”

“I need answers. Answers you don’t have.” She said as calmly as possible.

“Then who has them?”

“I don’t know!” She snapped.

“So you are running away? Leaving everything behind for your own selfish cause.” He barked. “You really are going to fit in with the Dúnedain, I hear they are all like that. Selfish and greedy.”

“Your one to talk.” Thorin glared. “I’ve seen you, brooding over the maps, weighing the risks in your mind. You want Erebor back. But that’s not it is it? No, you, you want the gold. The hoarded treasure hidden down below the mountain. Just like your grandfather. Selfish, greedy, and utterly stupid.”

“How dare…”

“Oh save your speech, Thorin! You saw it too!” She barked. “I’m not running. I’m saving your ass.”

“Why? Were those orcs after you? Mahal now that I think about it, it always has been about you! I’m not fit for you, they are hunting me, everyone died because of me. For gods sakes you are convinced everything revolves around you!”

“Revolves around me? Everything revolves around me? That comical coming from the King under the mountain.”

“Save it.”

“No, no, c’mon. You and me right here, c’mon what else do you need to tell me?”

“I’m not going to do this.”

“What? The King too scared of what a lowly pointed eared bitch like me can say?”

“No. I’m just…”

“Tired? Not in the mood? Too sad? This isn’t over.”

“No, it is. I’m tired of listening to all your negativity. I’m tired of always worrying about you. I’m done trying to love you. I’m, I’m done. I want you out. I want you to take your self-pitying… self, out of my kingdom, before anyone else dies in your name. You bring nothing but pain and sorrow to my family. Death follows you like a stray dog, it never leaves. I’m tired of losing people. So I’m turning you away, for the greater good.” A soft gasp was all she could reply. Thorin cringed inwardly.

“If that’s what the king wishes.” She whispered. Swinging herself into the saddle she looked down at him. “Amin innas il putta mela lle.” She breathed.