forgottenbrother | OPEN POST

Her chin trembles beneath his touch, teeth sinking into her lip so she can keep hold of herself and not give into the tears she feels filling up her eyes. Still, her voice is heavy with unshed tears when she speaks.

"You are forgiven already, brother." Her face turns into his palm, seeking the comfort, and with a soft sigh she pulls away to dump the dirtied water and gather clean water. Once she's returned, Dís picks up the vial of ointment and gently spreads it across the wounds. That done, she winds bandages just loose enough about his torso. His arm is trickier, and it's why she's waited to reply to his question.

"It cannot wait long or it won't set right and you might lose the ability to draw your bow or hold a blade properly."

She's just glad the bone has not broken through the skin, she wouldn't know how to help if it was, hardly knows how to help with this as it is. Still, she takes his wrist and has Frerin hold out his arm, carefully feels out where the break is and with eyes mostly closed, gently tries to nudge it back into place. That done, she wraps a layer of bandages about his forearm and then suddenly realizing she had't gathered something to splint it with, looks around. Her gaze falls upon the mostly empty quiver he'd dumped before they struggled through removing his shirt.

"Frerin, can I have one of your arrows?"

Frerin's thumb brushes lightly over Dis' cheek before she pulls away. He gives her a tiny smile, the corners of his lips just barely twitching in an attempt to be reassuring. He's sure it doesn't work well.

He tries to breath shallowly as she treats and bandages his wounds, blue eyes fluttering closed. It hurts, but he'll try to focus on other things.

Instead his mind brings him back to the battle, watching dwarves fall left and right, friends and strangers alike, and oh Mahal when Grandfather was--

He opens his eyes with a soft gasp, trembling worse than ever now. He can't stop thinking about it, can't stop seeing all the dead. He can hardly imagine how terrifying it must have been for Thorin when Frerin had fainted on him, covered in blood as he'd been.

He looks up at Dis just as she starts to feel at his arm, not even hearing what she'd said in regards to setting the bone. Frerin's good hand curls into a fist and he bites back a curse when she nudges the bone into place, pain throbbing through his arm. He's strangely out of breath.

"Aye," he grunts, still catching his breath.

That soft touch is soothing, and as Dís smiles just a tad as she bandages him up. There's a twinging pain in her chest as he flinches and gasps for air, eyes moving feverishly beneath closed lids. It's obvious what he's remembering, and though Dís wasn't there, couldn't have been there, she can't help but wish she could take some of his pain up her shoulders to help.

What she can do is be swift and sure in the way she bandages up his arm. With his permission recieved, she grabs his free hand and presses it to where she's holding the bandage tight.

"Hold this for me." And she shifts to pluck an arrow from his quiver, carefully pulling arrowhead and fletching off the shaft of the arrow. Once done, she sets the arrow on the table and pulls a knife from her belt, cleaving into two shorter pieces.

Dís pauses here though, reaching up and cupping his cheek in hand, soothing thumb along cheekbone and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Almost done, ok?"

Frerin can't stop the trembling, the way he shakes uncontrollably. Having his sister near is at least better than being alone. Being alone is terrifying; even being near a silent Thorin with Grandfather's crown in hand is a little too much for Frerin to bear.

He wonders if he was too young for all this. But then again, it's hardly as if he could have stayed behind. He is a Durin, and war is expected to be in his veins. But Frerin isn't like the others, not even like his brother. He's always been gentler and more light-hearted. But this? This has broken something inside him, his innocent purity gone forever. He doesn't know who he'll be anymore.

He nods at Dis' request, keeping the bandage in place. His eyes watch his sister this time instead of closing. There's a tiny wince as she dismantles his arrow but he says nothing.

Her touch makes him tremble worse than ever and he leans into her, letting out a shaky sigh. He wants to curl up against her and cry, but that's hardly what's expected of him.

"Alright," he replies, and his voice is empty.

Sometimes Dís feels as if she is far older than the nearly four decades she's seen. Erebor seems so long ago, memories buried beneath the gauzy haze of childhood and the ash and dragonflame of a mountain burning. Right now she feels twice her age, if not thrice.

Their mother would have been here taking care of them if she had not fallen long ago, and so it falls upon Dís' still thin shoulders. But sometimes she wonders if she will be able to handle the weight of being the cornerstone of this shrinking family. The knowledge of it lurks in her gaze, hidden beneath her worry as she carefully uses the arrow shafts to splint his arm. It can't take more than a few minutes but there's pain in it and she can feel Frerin trembling against her.

With a quiet sound of relief she tucks the edge of the bandage away and double checks to make sure it's bandaged well.

"There, 'twasn't hard was it?" Her smile is nebulous, trembling at the edges and not quite reaching her eyes as she cradles his face between small hands and touches their foreheads together.

He doesn't make hardly any sound, though his breathing comes a little faster, heavy and ragged as Dis binds up his arm. Everything is throbbing, his multitude of relatively minor wounds all thronging together to make it feel much worse than it is. Frerin blinks away tears, not sure if they're from the pain or the aching grief.

He looks up at her because she's trying so hard, he can see it. It's in her voice, her movements. Dis has always done her best to take the place of their mother, to fill the gap that she had left and take care of her brothers, and Frerin is grateful for that, more than he could ever say.

"Not hard at all." His voice is near a whisper, and his smile is utterly forced. He leans his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.

"Dis...I think I need to lie down."

Every little ragged breath is like a dagger through her, carving up the tender beating heart beneath her breast. There are tears still gathered upon her lashes, mouth trembling with the want to cry and the need not to. When Frerin closes his eyes, she drags in a soft, gasping breath of air, too loud in the silence of their home.

"Come then," Her arms beneath his hold him up, and though Dís is still small and in her youth, not yet hitting the older growth spurts, she is strong. She half-carries him to bed and helps him lay down. And then, with a faintly distressed look, she piles in after him, face buried into the crook of his neck. She doesn't sob, but there are tears against his skin, helpless and worried, "I'm sorry I couldn't help more, brother."

"Thank you."

He leans against her, needing the support. Frerin's so tired, his steps heavy and his head hanging. A soft groan escapes him as he finally lies down, eyes closing almost immediately.

His arms go gently around her, even his injured one, and he strokes through her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Oh Dis," he murmurs softly. "My little baby bird. You've done so much for me. Don't be sorry."

Support is the least she can give him, and what Dís gives freely even if he were not to ask for her to do so. What more does she have, after all? Still, he lies down and wraps his arms around her, pressing kisses and endearments to the dark curling mass of her hair and for a moment she can forget that his arm is broken and his mind is darkened with battle.

For a moment, Dís can pretend that nothing has happened and they are cuddling after a bad dream.

"Brother dearest, your safe return 'twas all I wished for." Still, she smiles, pressing a kiss to the line of his jaw and curling closer. She hasn't slept well in far too long, too worried and too unused to the silence. Perhaps now she can, knowing at least part of her family has returned.

Frerin loves Thorin dearly, but Dis is his favorite. His sweet little sister, so willing to give to those she loves. Fingers brush through her dark hair and if it weren't for the pain throbbing steadily through his body, he could forget too.

He breathes, buries his face in her hair and knows that Dis is breaking just as much as he is.

"I could never leave you," he tells her, but in his heart he can't forget just how close he was to death. It was luck that saw him through to the end of battle. Frerin is not a warrior, not like Thror or Thrain, and yet he made it through. He assumes his father is dead; the thought of him leaving them is too terrible.

"I'm here." He wishes he were stronger, wishes the words meant more than they do.

I could never leave you he says and while Dís wants dearly to believe him, that is a lie she no longer can find the heart to keep faith in. Everyone leaves, everyone dies, it is a fact of life and she has gone through enough to know it well. So Dís' mouth turns up into a trembling smile, arm winding around Frerin's waist to hold him close.

Part of her wonders how it would have been if she could have been there on that battle field, if she could have done anything. But that's folly to worry about, not when she's got the deaths of her father and grandfather already weighing on her mind. So with a little sniffle she nods.

"You better let me take you to see Oín, at least." A poke at his shoulder, "I'll be very cross if you don't."

Frerin sighs, he closes his eyes and relaxes. His fingers pause in her hair, his bad arm still against Dis' back.

He smiles faintly at Dis, exhaustion settling in.

"You know I can't handle you being cross with me," he replies softly. "But later, I think."

"Aye," she replies just as softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw and settling in comfortable. "Sleep now, you need your rest."

It's unspoken, but there in the way she holds him close and presses warm against his side Dís makes it clear she will guard him as he sleeps. And she will definitely take him up on that promise later on.

Frerin smiles half-heartedly, fingers brushing softly across her cheek. He lets out a sigh and his eyes close. He's so, so tired, emotionally and physically worn.

He doesn't fully relax until sleep claims him.

She counts his breathing, hand warming upon his chest so she can feel the steady thumpthumpthump of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. Eventually, when he eases out and slips into sleep, Dís relaxes enough to let herself follow him.

The day might have been one of the worst in her short life, but that night Dís dreams of a chamber with star-studded gems embedded in the walls and ceiling, little constellations marked out like the sky until she couldn't tell one from the other.

In her dream they laugh and curl close, point out shapes and name them like there's not a care in the world. And she sleeps through the night for the first time in weeks.

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