By the time Thorin reached the gates of Erebor, he was panting under the weight of Arien and both the packs. And there was a tight knot of worry in his chest which didn't loosen when he realised his tunic was soaked in Arien's blood. As he passed the guards they averted their eyes out of respect, but Thorin snapped

"One of you, get a healer and my sister. Quickly."

One of them bowed, eyes widening at the wounded elvish figure in his arms, and dashed off. Thorin staggered onwards, even as more blood seeped onto his chest.

"Thorin!"

He looked up, teeth gritted, to see an old but still strong-looking dwarf woman hurrying up to him, her grey hair flying behind her. He felt a flash of relief as he returned her call.

"Mother!"

She reached him, her eyes first scanning his face for any injury before going to Arien and the ugly wound in her back. She didn't ask questions, just took the packs from him and accompanied him through the gates. Once they were inside, she turned and faced him.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, mother, I'm fine, but..."

"I can see," she answered shortly. "She needs a room and a healer."

Thorin nodded. His arms felt like they were about to give out. A black haired dwarf woman came into view, flanked by a blonde dwarf male.

"Dis," he called out. "Are there any empty rooms?"

His sister took one look at him and nodded. "This way."

She led them to the guest quarters, not far from his own. He entered a spacious, plain-furnished chamber and laid Arien gently on the double bed at the back. At the same moment that Thrain, his father, came in.

"Father, we need..."

"Thror wants you in the throne room now. With the she-elf."

Thorin stiffened, his blood heating at the insult. "She is hurt. She needs a healer."

"Your king wants to see her. To judge whether she can stay."

Thorin started forward. With every second wasted arguing, Arien was bleeding out on that bed. "My king can wait a bit longer. She needs a healer."

Two young guards stepped forward. "We have orders, Prince. We are to carry her to the throne room."

"You will do no such thing," Thorin snarled. "What you will do is find a healer."

"But..."

"I don't care. Do it."

His mother put a hand on his arm in warning, but the guards didn't object any longer. They just hurried out.

"What was that?" snapped Thrain.

"She's hurt. Does she not deserve to be conscious when she is judged by my grandfather?"

"Thorin," his mother said gently. "Your grandfather will punish you."

"I will deal with it."

There was a snort from where Dis stood.

"What," growled Thorin. Not a question.

"Just... you." She was grinning at him.

"Me what?"

Dis shook her head in amusement. "Who would have thought you'd ever fall in love."