The Truth Beneath the Rose

A/N- Welcome, welcome. I do hope you all are able to like this story. This chapter had to be done and it is a very sad chapter, dealing with death and the aftermath.

This was a dream I had recently and I immediately sat down and began writing. Unable to stop myself.

Disclaimer- I do not own anything from the Peter Jackson movies or the Tolkien verse. I do own Thalia and Rhean.

Please enjoy!

'Thoughts'

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Prologue:

Year 2799-

*Outside the mines of Moria*

The devastation of it all, the pure and utter magnitude of death and carnage. It was overwhelming, to the point that he thought that he'd puke. But he couldn't not in front of his men, not in front of his people. Expecially after what had happened with his grandfather Thror not to mention his father, Thrain's dissapearance.

'Azog,' Thorin spit at the ground at the very thought of that creature. He'd been hard pressed to push himself harder than ever before as he'd faught the pale Orc, barely gaining the upperhand. Still that filth had slunk away with his son Bolg and a great number of his Orc refuse. All pockets of the scum left had been easily overtaken by the few remaining Dwarrow warriors.

At long last they stood on the battlefield victorious. The battle had been impossible and had cost so many lives. Victory at a very high price.

Now though it was time for finding all whom survived, friends, family, and loved ones. Of which Thorin had three in particular in mind. His sister Dis, his brother Frerin, and Rhean. If he was truely honest with himself, she was the one he was the most worried about.

Before the battle he'd tried to have her stay behind but she refused, she was a warrior through and through after all. Besides, her father, mother and brothers were fighting as well and she didn't wish to be left out. So he'd granted her request, he just hoped she was alright. With all his heart.

He found Balin and Dwalin first, both haggard and wounded but no worse for wear. He asked after his familiy and both nodded off towards one of the tents that had been set up for the wounded. Thanking them he hurried as fast as he could considering his blood loss and fatigue, towards the tent. Before he reached it, Oin stepped out a wan look upon his face. Feeling his stomach clench in wariness Throin went over to him.

Oin didn't hear him at first, he was far too lost in thought but after a few tries he finally looked up and saw Thorin. This made him break out in a tired smile as he thanked Mahal for letting their prince, their king survive the massacare.

The memories of what or more to the fact, who was in the tent behind him had his smile fading as he gave his king a small bow. Thorin was worried by this, something was wrong for Oin to act this way, especially when it was he whom had approached. He asked his question once more, "Oin, is my family in this tent? My sister? Brother?...Rhean."

Not sure what would be the best way to answer that, Oin decided to just let Thorin see for himself. Quick and painless was the best way he could think of. Keeping his voice devoid of emotion Oin motioned to the tent behind him, "Step inside milord, all your answers are within."

Confused by Oin's vauge response, Thorin did just that, he made his way past the two flaps of material at the entrance. Closing his eyes as he crossed the threshold he took a deep breath to calm himself and prepare for whatever would meet his eyes.

Once he was sure he was as ready as he could ever be Thorin opened his eyes. The tent looked larger inside than it did on the outside, there was a small washing station near the entrance to his side and three sepperate 'chambers' one could call them lay before him. Sepperated only by what looked to be blankets hung from the roof supports.

Seeing no one else inside save himself he decidied to head for the middle first, pulling the blanket back he was greaved to find the lifeless body of his little brother, Frerin. Several wounds were clear on his face and around his neck, it looked to him that his brother had bled out from a cut to his neck. He knelt by his brothers bedside and prayed to Mahal that he lead his brother to his halls where he may remain content or until he earns a chance at rebrith.

Once this was done, he stood once more and moving closer to his brother he bent his head and pressed his forehead against his brothers in one final moment of affection and farewell. Pressing back his tears as best he could Thorin turned from his brother's side and made his way to the left devision. Unsure of what he was to find behind this he prayed for the strength to continue.

Opening the flap of cloth he felt his heart jerk happily in his chest when his eyes met the identical ones of his little sister, Dis. Her arm was in a sling and she had a black eye, but other than this she seemed whole and hale. Dis burst into tears upon seeing him and he hurried to her side, pressing his forehead to hers breathing in deeply of her scent and breath.

She was alive, his sister was alive. "Dis...have you heard...about Frerin?" A large sob shook his sisters frame and he knew the answer to his question. "I am sorry I was unable to protect him, or you. After Grandfather...I lost track of all of you. I've yet to hear from or see Rhean, but at least you are safe."

Dis shook once more before she seemed to puff herself up, "I am happy you are alive too brother, but there is still so much that must be done. Don't fall appart on me now, as for Frerin...Mahal will keep him safe until we see him again in the halls of our fathers. Now don't dwadle, I need to know if Rhean is safe as well, please find out and come back. Tell me what has become of her."

Smiling at the buisnesslike behavior of his sister, Thorin bowed to her, "as Princess Dis commands." She threw a pillow at him as he left her space and he felt a bit better knowing she hadn't lost her fire. But her request and the hope of his own heart remained. Looking to the last enclosure to the right, Thorin hoped to find something good behind it.

Taking another breath he walked over and was about to enter the space when Oin's voice drifted from the entrance, "Thorin...you won't find her in there. This tent is for the royal family only. We put Thror in there until we are able to restore his head to his body. As for Lady Rhean...we've yet to find her...alive or dead. She is missing Milord."

Clenching and unclenching his fists, Thorin debated on wether he wished to enter and see his grandfather one last time. But remembering the madness that lead them to where they were now, he knew he couldn't face the truth of Thror's insanity yet. He needed more time. But Oin's words about his missing love burned in the pit of his stomach.

He was exausted, wounded, and knew he needed to rest soon before he collapsed. He could not though, not until she was found. Finding Rhean was priority number one.

Hours later, after what seemed like wading through a sea of corpse's. Both those of his kin and Orc filth, Thorin and those whom had volunteered to help him stopped for a moment to take a breather. Still nothing, still no sign of Rhean. Thorin was beginning to think that maybe Azog's creatures had taken her as a hostage or for their amusement. Which made his rage at the beast blaize even brighter.

He was tempted to lead a group of the survivors inside the mountian to hunt down and find the monsters. But common sense won out, there were thousands of the enemy and only a handful of his people left. He could not risk what remained of their people not even for her sake.

He was about to turn and begin the search anew when a loud shout went up. Rushing over to where the sound had come from he froze at what greeted his eyes.

Before them was a grisly scene. About thirty felled Orc's lay in almost a perfect circle around two dwarrow in the middle. They were slumped back to back, a large spear protruding through both of them. It seemed the two had fought even after being so grieviously wounded and had felled many of the enemy.

But it was whom the two were that had him falling to his knees and crying out in utter aguish and dispair. One was a male dwarf, around his age. His friend from childhood and their youth, Ulv. The other was a beautiful dwarrowdam with deep chocolate hair. The sister to Ulv and his love, his one, Rhean.

She looked peaceful, almost sleeping, if one disregareded the spear through her chest. He felt tears burn in his eyes and felt his heart crumble into a mass off pain and dispair. Thorin felt empty, like his whole life had no point no purpose. He probably would have remained feeling that way if a voice from behind him hadn't snapped him out of his pit of dispair.

"Milord, we must prepare them from burial. We cannot let the carrion birds damage such brave dwarrow." Blinking furiously to stave off his tears, Thorin forced himself to his feet. He swayed once before he planted his feet and spoke in a gravely voice full of pain. "Yes, they deserve no less."

An hour later Thorin stood next to the body of his love, his fingers gently carressing the courting braid he'd given to her weeks before the battle. By tradition he knew he had to remove the braid and take back his clasp, which held the durin family runes. This did not make it any easier to do so, but slowly with a soft touch he removed the braid and clenched his reclaimed clasp tightly in his palm.

He heard the footsteps outside the tent and sighed, he was out of time, he had to let her go. Bending down he kissed Rhean's forehead and whispered his words of farewell. "My love, may you find peace in Mahal's realm, until the day I may find you there and our love become one. I will hold you forever in my heart and none shall ever take your place. This I swear upon Mahal's hammer. Goodbye my dearest, my one, my Rhean."

Then with much reluctance, Thorin turned and left the tent. He soon after sought out his sister, whom had heard the news already and told her of his decision to remain alone. She out of everyone understood his pain and knew he meant every word of the oath he'd spoken. Which left the fate of the Duin family line in her hands, she would fullfill her duty and continue the line, this she swore to him.

When the count of the dead had been tallied and a place to bury their slain kin found, the ceremony to place them all in Mahal's hands began and lasted long into the next day. Those of the royal family were left for last and every dwarrow still alive paid witness to the farewell of their former king and his grandson. It was a moment that would remain in the hearts of all the dwarrow whom survived as a sad day indeed.

After everything was finished and the last of their dead burried, all of the dwarrow turned to their new king to lead them back to the blue mountains and their temporary home. A task that fell heavily upon Thorin's shoulders, but he accepted his place and did so with regal dignity. And thus ended the battle of Azanulbizar.

A day which will forever burn in Thorin's heart, as the day he became the king of his people and lost the love of his life.

65 Years later

*In the Blue Mountains*

"But why is ma in pain? Did I cause her pain when I was born? Why is the new one giving her pain? Why uncle?"

Sighing for the millionth time that hour alone, Thorin sat down next to the small dwarfling whom was staring up at him questioningly. He patted the child's mop of blonde locks in what he hoped was a reasuring way, "it is the way things are Fili. Your mother is bringing your sibling into the world and this makes the pain worth it. Yes it was the same when you were born and it will be the same for any child born."

Seeing the confusion of his words upon the child's face Thorin quickly thought of another answer that might appease the boy. "It is a right of passage that Mahal puts before us. He made us so we may fight for him, for life. That is what your new sibling is doing, they are fighting their way into the world, just as you did. You won the right to be born in this fight Fili, now it is your siblings turn."

Fili's face lit up at that as he jumped up and pumped a fist in the air. "No wonder ma is in pain. I hope the new one wins as well." Thorin cracked a small smile at the boys nievety, but was glad his changed explanation went over well. He didn't think he could take much more of the child's questions.

He still found it hard to believe that five years ago the small bundle of excitement before him was born. That in this child rested the future of their family line. It was even harder to believe that he'd lost all chances at having his own children 65 years ago. Time waited for no one. A fact he'd learned over the years.

A loud scream snapped him out of his reviere and he stood as one of the dwarrow midwives stepped from the adjacent room moments later with a small sqwalling child in her arms. She bowed slightly, trying not to jostle the child and held it out to him. "A son your highness."

Thorin took the bundle gently from the woman and thanked her, when she left he sat back down and motioned for Fili to come forth. The boy looked nervous but did as Thorin bade. Once Fili was at his side, Thorin removed the blanket to get a good look at his new nephew.

The boy had a small but thick tuft of dark brown hair and his deep chocolate brown eyes stared up at him. This was when Thorin noticed that the child had stoped screaming, instead he looked almost happy. Which was strange. Fili reached out a chubby finger and poked at his brother, causing the child to break eye contact and start screaming again.

Sighing Thorin stood and taking Fili's hand roughly he stomped through the door and back into the birthing chamber. His sister had her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised as she watched him approach. Having been cleaned up after the birth. "He doesn't seem to like you much brother." She took the child when he passed him to her and held him close, the boy slowly quited down and fell asleep.

"What we gonna call him ma?" Fili's voice chimed from the edge of the bed. Dis smiled at her son and stroked her new child's cheek gently. "He will be called Kili after your father's father." Thorin nodded his head in acceptance while Fili grumbled out, "I wish pa could be here. Ma why did da have to die?"

Thorin grit his teeth and was about to chastize the boy when Dis sighed. "That is because he died to protect us all Fili, I wish he could have been here too. But he is with Mahal and is watching over us. He died in battle, fighting till the bitter end."

This had Fili perking up as he burst out, "so he fought his way back?! I understand now ma!" Dis looked between Thorin and Fili in confusion but soon let it go when Kili started fussing for a meal. These boys would be a handful, there was no dobut in her mind about that.

34 years later

*In the Shire*

It was a miracle. At least that is what her husband Bungo kept saying as he strode with a bounce in his step back and forth before her bed. Their newborn daughter in his arms.

Belladonna Baggins agreeded with her husband, but not about the same thing. Feeling the bed dip, Belladonna smiled at her son Bilbo as he climed into the bed, a large half-eaten slice of bread in his hand. He held it out to her with a smile. "Ood muma?"

She shook her head and flicked his nose replying, "you eat it dear. I will be fine for a bit longer, now Bungo give me our daughter. It is time to feed her and name her." Her husband looked reluctant but after a glare from her he handed over their cooing child. Belladonna looked down at her daughter with a smile and kissed her forehead.

Normally there would be a gaggle of other hobbits around buzzing like bee's over the new arrival and shouting names and other such nonsence. But this time Belladonna would have none of it. She wanted no nay sayers around this time, even helpful ones.

The last time when she had given birth to Bilbo three years previous, one of the midwives had told her she had an infection. Which had proved true and had soon lead to her being bedridden for a month as well as loosing the ability to produce milk for her son. They had to hire a wet nurse for him which had displeased Belladonna greatly.

But it was the news she'd recieved upon recovery which had haunted her. The local healer had told her that the infection had made her barren and this had nearly broken her heart. After all, it was her dream to have six children at least but with that pronouncement all her hopes disapeared. Which is why she'd been in shock almost two month's straight when she had been told she was pregnant again.

This time she wasn't taking any chances of unhappy news and idiotic healers. She didn't want to be told no again. She lifted her daughter up and looked her over, taking in her soft tuft of golden blonde hair and her strange grey eyes. She'd never seen the like before but she shook it off as she pondered what to call this new child.

A bump against her arm had her looking down at her son, whom now held an open book out to her. Blinking Belladonna looked at the contents and her face lit up, "thank you Bilbo, you've just named your sister. Thalia."

A/N- There...man this chapter was hard to write. It is nessisary though, very much so. This chapter will explain many things in the coming chapters and I do so hope you all will remain with me to experience those said chapters.

Thank you again for reading my work.

May the Fluff Be with you!

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