Oh look, a quest! Round four (now with results!)

[Erebor]

We are at war. There will be scars.

"Thief!" Nerissa's shrill voice is screaming, loud in his ears. He sees Lena cringe, seeming to shrink under the blond girl's hate-filled gaze. Nerissa looks back and forth between Erebor and Lena one more time, before shutting her eyes and screaming in pure rage. "THIEF!" Her hands are balled into fists, and she looks for all the world as though she's going to explode. Lena, too scared to find words, dissolves into tears.

She grabs Erebor in one hand (crushing his new, handmade wings) and Lena's hair in the other. Lena cries out in pain, but Nerissa doesn't care. She pulls Lena toward the door by her ponytail, smashing Erebor into the handle and pressing it open. In a moment they are out of Lena's house and moving up toward the manor. "N-no, N-n-n-erissa, it wa-wasn't like that, I p-p-romise!" Lena stutters out between sobs. "Of course it was. You wanted her, and you stole her because you are a THEIF." Nerissa practically shouts the last word. She doesn't look back at Lena, her angry eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Miss Nerissa, I – Lena! Petuni comes suddenly into view, her voice changing from flustered and relieved to horrified as she looks past Nerissa and sees her sister being dragged by her hair. Petunia clasps her hands over her mouth in a mix of shock and horror. She is frozen, entirely unsure of what to do. Lena locks eyes with her and silently mouths the word "no" – no, don't do anything, don't jeopardize our family. No, don't say anything, don't raise a fuss – I know you're not allowed to give orders to Nerissa. No, big sister, none of this is your fault.

Nerissa drags Lena on past Petunia, and the older girl is finally shocked into motion. "Miss Nerissa-" she begins, her voice admirably soft and deferential, but Nerissa cuts her off. "NO." her lips are white with fury. "Don't you DARE talk to me." and Petunia turns white as a sheet. There is nothing for her to do but follow them up, up, up the hill.

Up the hill to the door, which Nerissa slams open (again by smashing Erebor into the handle and turning it ungracefully). Up the wide entrance hallway to the grand staircase, yanking Lena fiercely at every opportunity. Up the broad marble steps, Lena crying quietly and pleading wordlessly as they go. Up the long landing to the master suite, where Nerissa throws open the door with a startling bang.

Clutched in Nerissa's tightly balled fist, Erebor can see the room spill out before them. It is the largest room he's seen so far, probably larger than the entire footprint of Lena's house. And it's filled with people, all of them dressed in a similar uniform to the black-and-white of Petunia. They cluster around a woman at the far end of the room like fireflies drawn to a flame. And this woman does look like something of a flame – tall and blonde, her figure impossibly thin and impossibly curvaceous, she's wearing a bright red gown that seems to glow against her tanned skin. She stands on a slightly raised dais, in front of a three way mirror, and when they enter she is clearly absorbed by picking over every flaw in the gown and her appearance – and the staff, paid to attend her, has no choice but to follow along.

"What the hell?" the woman says as she looks up into the mirror, using it to scan the room behind her. Erebor sees her face clearly for the first time, and the resemblance between her and Nerissa is uncanny. No doubt, this is the girl's mother. He can feel Nerissa's hand shake where she clutches him, trembling with the effort of not interrupting her mother Nerissa's mother looks at them in the mirror, and her face clouds over with anger. "I swear to god Petunia, if your mother weren't the best damn housekeeper in the five counties I'd have thrown you out on your useless ass years ago." She practically snarls, her pretty face contorted with rage. Petunia seems used to the abuse, clasping her hands in front of her and looking down at the floor, barely reacting to the strident voice and verbal abuse. Nerissa's mother rolls her eyes before turning to whisper something to one of the flock of assistants around her.

Erebor finds himself wondering if Nerissa's mother has even noticed Lena, still squirming and crying quietly as Nerissa holds her hair in a relentless grip. It could be that she's unaware – she doesn't seem very interested in them, other than to be annoyed that they're here – but considering how she'd just spoken to Petunia, it's also quite possible she has noticed and just doesn't care.

"Mother!" Nerissa finally can't stand to be silent any longer. The words erupt out of her, and she's still trembling. "She STOLE from me." Nerissa yanks on Lena's hair like a leash, forcing her into the room so she falls to her knees before the blonde girl. Her mother stops talking to the assistant, her gaze fixed on Nerissa in the mirror. Erebor wonders if she's ever going to actually turn around and look at them properly.

"What?!" Her voice is low, cold, and sharp like ice. As if on cue, she turns. The helpers have to move pieces of the dress she's wearing to avoid snagging it on the dais, but in just a few moments she's facing them completely. "Oh, Nerissa, my poor darling!" suddenly her face is kind, and her voice is sweet. But it's kindness and sweetness in a way that gives Erebor chills – nothing about it is authentic, and he feels as though she could snap back to the way she was at any moment. "You know you shouldn't speak until I ask you to," she says, with that same sickly-sweet tone, "But you know that mother can't tolerate stealing." her gaze is withering and cruel as she looks at Petunia and then Lena. The sickly smile returns when she looks back to Nerissa. "Come here precious darling, and tell mother what they stole." The woman holds out her hand, and Nerissa yanks Lena by the hair, still clutching Erebor so hard he can barely breathe.

When they get close enough to mother, Nerissa holds Erebor out in front of her, offering him to her mother to inspect. "She STOLE her. Lena took her, I know she did, I saw it." Nerissa lies, sounding as though she's on the verge of tears. "Mrs. Carlisle, if I may – " Petunia finally finds her voice, but Mrs. Carlisle's reaction is swift. "No, you absolutely may not." her tone is clipped and icy as before. "I've already got plenty of reasons to fire you. Don't make me add one to the list."

Mrs. Carlisle nods to one of the assistants, who reaches out and takes Erebor from Nerissa before holding him up closer to the woman's face. As soon as she sees him properly, Nerissa's mother recoils immediately as though she's been burned. "Oh my god, what the hell is that?" her voice is thick with judgment and disgust. "Nerissa, honey, mother and father would never buy you a toy that ugly." she nods at the assistant holding Erebor, and the woman turns him this way and that, allowing Mrs. Carlisle to inspect him from all sides. She can see every flaw, every scratch that was lovingly repaired with nail polish, the braided mane and tail replacements, the harness with the wings (now so thoroughly squished that they're bent out of shape and will never be formed quite properly again). "My god, this thing looks like it was chewed up by a dog, put through the wash cycle about a million times, and then decorated by a hyperactive retarded child during special needs programming at the local charity shelter." She wrinkles her nose up, clearly disgusted. She nods to her assistant, who passes Erebor back to Nerissa. It occurs to him that Mrs. Carlisle herself has hardly moved since they'd entered the room.

"Sweet darling, you must have this toy confused with something else. I am sure we didn't get you anything like this." she leans over to her assistant, speaking quietly. Perhaps Nerissa can't hear her, but Erebor's repaired ears sure can. "We didn't get her that piece of shit, right?" Her assistant shakes her head. "But, mom – " Mrs. Carlisle finally moves, her right hand flying up to chest height as she points to the ceiling, the universal human gesture to make someone be quiet. "You know this, Nerissa. I am mother, I am never mom." Her voice is clipped and sharp, but the tones are gentle and soft. The word "mom" seems to drip with scorn and disdain. "Now, what were you saying sweeting?" she says, smiling again, voice sickly sweet again. "I was saying mother, that I know I had a pony just like this. She was my best friend, my favorite toy…" My god, Erebor thinks, if I was her favorite toy I'd hate to see what a non-favorite toy looks like. "Aww, my poor darling. Don't worry, we'll make sure you have one. And of course, it'll be so much prettier than this piece of trash."

Still smiling at Nerissa, Mrs. Carlisle leans over to her assistant, again speaking quietly. "Find it for her. Make sure it's the best of the best. Get her a whole damn herd if she wants, I don't fucking care."

"But Mother I don't WANT a new one, I want THIS one." Mrs. Carlisle looks back to Nerissa, her smile fading a little bit, growing hollow. "Fine Nerissa. You can have this one and you can have a new one." As though a switch has been flipped Nerissa stops pouting. Mrs. Carlisle turns back to the mirror, looking back at Petunia a moment later with a look of pure annoyance. "Why are you still in my room?" she asks Petunia, but is clearly referring to the whole group of them. Petunia looks toward Nerissa, and Mrs. Carlisle follows her gaze. "Fucking useless." she mutters.

"Nerissa darling, why don't you celebrate your new friend by…going to play." she suggests, her voice clearly betraying her annoyance despite the treacly sweetness of her smile. "Actually, why don't you go play with Lena." Mrs. Carlisle smirks at Petunia via the mirror. "If she were actually a person, you'd owe her an apology, but I think in this case, this'll do just fine." She smiles at them through the mirror. "Now go play darling. If there's ever real stealing, make sure to tell mother immediately. But otherwise," her smile fades immediately and her voice gets darker. "Never disturb me right before an event. Ever." She is silent for a moment, but then the smile returns. "Run along now. You two will have such fun playing together!" The tone she uses makes it clear that she knows their playtime will be absolutely anything but fun – it's mocking, degrading, the tone that the cruelest use when they're toying with their victims.

Nerissa gives her mother a quick curtsy and, still dragging Lena by her hair, pulls her up and out of the room. After a few more choice words from Mrs. Carlisle (including "keep my daughter out of here for the rest of the evening or I will fucking fire you, you useless clod" and "I don't know where your failure of a sister got that pathetic toy, but you're fucking lucky it's so ugly it couldn't possibly be from us"), Petunia joins them out in the hall.

Nerissa finally lets go of Lena. The blond girl seems much calmer now, although it's not a proper calm. Her eyes have a fierce intensity, and she's grinning a madman's sick, twisted grin. Erebor is quite certain that she's calm like a serial killer with prey in its grasp. "I know," she begins, speaking directly to Lena, getting down in her face and asserting her control, "I know that you're a thief. And I'm sure mother is going to research it, and she'll find out that you're a thief too." she pauses, her smile growing wider and more crazed. "I'm going to make sure you get your whole family fired." She lets that sink in for a moment. "I really hate thieves."

"But first, we're going to have playtime. Because I'm a good girl, so I always do what my mother tells me." Erebor is tempted to wonder how many times she's had to repeat that in copybooks growing up – how many times she's had to write it on chalkboards, or repeat it while standing in corners. He's not sure what is worse: the thought that her actual mother had raised her, or the thought that she'd left the job entirely to governesses.

Regardless, he's starting to see a little bit of why Nerissa is the way she is.

"And if you don't play with me, if you try to run away, I'll tell my mother on you. And mother really doesn't like it when the help disobeys." She pauses for another moment, watching Lena as though daring her to say something. Lena may be many things, but able to stand up to a bully like Nerissa isn't one of them. Erebor can see that Lena is crumpling, falling more inside herself. He wishes desperately that there were something he could do, but he's frozen, stuck in place just as he's been ever since escaping the toybox.

"Good!" Nerissa says, in a tone that makes it clear that Lena had no choice in the matter at all. "Now first, we'll have to go up to my room, because I'm sure you don't have proper toys at all." She starts to head down the hall toward her room, but pauses quickly first. "Oh, didn't I mention? We're going to go play at your house." Her grin is maniacal, and Erebor can see the blood drain from Lena's face.

She leads the way back down the hall, over to the other side of the house where her own room is. Lena follows her, head down, tears flowing, and Petunia follows as well, her hand on her sister's shoulder when she feels that Nerissa isn't looking. Erebor, still clutched in Nerissa's hand, feels his heart breaking for the two of them. He wondered what would happen if they weren't terrified of getting their mother fired, of losing their entire livelihood – even their home. But as it stands, there's nothing they can do. Lena knows it, Petunia knows it, and worst of all, Nerissa knows it.

Marching into the room, Nerissa directs Petunia to pick a few favorites out of the toybox. Erebor recognizes them all: Prin, with her gunblade, Samaine with her broken wings and broken spirit, the Barbie twins, and even the enormous teddy. "Bring the tea set too. We'll need to have a proper tea party." Unable to argue for fear of her mother's job, Petunia can do nothing but add it to the pile. Once everything is loaded up, Nerissa dumps Erebor on top of the pile unceremoniously. Clearly, she had only cared about him when she didn't possess him. Now that he's hers once more, he's no longer her bestest and most favoritest.

The trip to the little cottage is uneventful. Erebor had dared to hope that their mother might be home, or someone else who could stop what is certainly going to be horrible, but all is quiet when they arrive; wherever Petunia and Lena's mother is, she isn't home yet.

"Okay Lena, where should we play?" Nerissa's voice is artificially bright and cheery, and Erebor feels certain that it's not cheer at the prospect of a typical, gentle Lena playtime. Lena doesn't answer, and Nerissa's smile fades. "I said, where should we play?" she almost growls the last part, reaching forward, grabbing a chunk of Lena's hair, and pulling hard. Lena whimpers in pain. Petunia makes a noise that might be a gasp, a sob, or both.

The blonde girl turns to Petunia as though she's forgotten the older girl was even there. "Oh, Petunia, you'll know this answer. Where should we play?" the girl looks directly at her babysitter, knowing that if Petunia refuses to answer, it's grounds for immediate dismissal. She knows it, and Petunia knows it – she knows she's trapped. "Try the cellar." she answers, talking to the ground. She knows Lena plays down there sometimes, but she knows her sister usually keeps her toys put away in the bedroom they all share. She hopes, she hopes.

Lena's eyes snap up and look at her sister. Mr. Fluffy is still down there – with all his rabbit friends. "NO!" she cries, her voice loud for her, but still soft in comparison to normal voices. "Please, anywhere but the cellar." Her voice is desperate, and Nerissa hears that desperation and decides that it needs to be disrespected. "You're right Lena, we should for sure go to the cellar." she claps her hands together and looks at Petunia. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!" she waves her hands toward Petunia, who picks up the pile of toys and tea stuff and carries it downstairs. Lena follows, reluctantly.

As soon as Nerissa hits the bottom step and sees Mr. Fluffy, she claps her hands in delight. "Is this your toy? He's very…ugly." she says, poking at his patchwork fur like the worst scientist examining an alien artifact. She suddenly grabs him by an ear, and Lena gasps as she sees the stitching she'd so delicately replaced start to strain. "Ew, it's so dirty down here." Nerissa comments offhand as she steps on the cotton balls strewn across the floor – Lena's rabbits from their earlier game. With no further thought, Nerissa squishes them into a corner with one swift sweep of her leg. By this time, Lena is openly crying again.

"So Lena, here's how I play. All of my toys are the subjects of Princess Stabby Shooty PrettyHat." she reaches into the pile of toys brought from her room and picks up Prin. "And anytime Prin gets a new subject, that means we need to have a tea party. And before every tea party, we need to have a turny-mint." she still mispronounces it, just as she had when Erebor had first heard her say the word. His heart grows cold. He knows what's coming next.

"The first round will be Miss Pony McBerry Greenington," she picks up Erebor, tossing Prin to the side, "and….whatever that thing is called." she points to Mr. Fluffy. "Pick him up so he can fight." Reluctantly, Lena tenderly grasps Mr. Fluffy. Without hesitation, Nerissa picks through the pile from her room, grabbing the nail clippers and quickly wrapping her hand around Erebor's face and head so that she can hold the clippers like an imaginary horn. It hurt him, but the ache from that is not nearly as severe as the ache he feels from knowing what's coming next. When Lena sees the clippers, all the color drains from her face. "What are you…" Nerissa scoffs. "It wouldn't be much of a turny-mint without weapons!"

And without another minute to move or think, Nerissa, holding both the nail clippers and Erebor, charges at Lena, holding Mr. Fluffy.

The nail clippers connect with the rabbit, catching a thread in his threadbare stomach. They slide across the surface, catching here and there, but finally finding purchase on one of the seams. With a snip, the clippers cut through the stitching just before Lena can yank him away.

"No, Mr. Fluffy!" Lena cries in her gentle voice, cradling her injured rabbit. He's not terribly the worse for wear; a single ripped stitch isn't going to destroy him. "Ugh, we're not done yet." Nerissa says, more annoyed than anything else. "Put him back down, right now. Or I'll go tell mother…and you know what that means." If Nerissa tells her mother, it means bad things for Lena's mother. She knows. She knows.

Erebor can see the reluctance in her eyes as she gives Mr. Fluffy a cuddle and sets him down again.

A few more rounds with the clippers and Mr. Fluffy is looking the worse for wear, but not irreparable. When Nerissa throws down the clippers and declares round one to be over, Lena looks obviously relieved. She immediately darts forward to pick up Mr. Fluffy, cradling him and crooning to him gently. Nerissa goes over to the pile from her room and digs through it, looking for something else. Lena, still holding Mr. Fluffy, walks over to Erebor and sits beside him for a moment.

"Oh Ellie, I'm so sorry." she says, her voice soft and breaking under the weight of tears. She cries gently, droplets falling silently onto Mr. Fluffy's plush form. "If I hadn't been so greedy and had you up on that table, none of this would have happened." she sniffles quietly, wiping her eyes. Then she looks at him and smiles, small and sad. "I just want you to know, Ellie, I don't blame you for anything, and I know Mr. Fluffy doesn't either. We know you don't want to." Nerissa stands up and moves to come back toward them, and Lena stands up too, offering Erebor a last sad smile before retreating to her "side" of the imaginary tournament area.

When Erebor looks at Nerissa, his heart sinks. He recognizes the object that she is holding. It's the hairpin-shaped object, the sharp one that she'd used when Prin had defeated him in his first (and, he'd thought, last) tournament. It had hurt him, sure, but on him it had barely dented whatever strange material had replaced the yielding flesh of his body. He'd suffered more pain than lasting damage; on a stuffed animal like Mr. Fluffy, the pin would pierce far more, and the damage would be far more extensive.

"Round two, Miss Pony McBerry Greenington versus the ugliest bunny in the world!" she announces, but before she's done the pin has replaced the clippers as Erebor's "horn" and Nerissa is already charging at Mr. Fluffy with the pin. Petunia sees the sharpness of the pin and grabs Lena, pulling her away – which leaves Mr. Fluffy all alone. Taking advantage of the situation, Nerissa (and by extension, Erebor) stabs Mr. Fluffy again and again with the pin, stabbing until fabric starts to fall apart, until stuffing comes loose, until there's no practical way to put him back together again.

Lena is a sobbing mess, huddled in Petunia's arms across the cellar. Nerissa stands up with a twisted smile, clearly not caring. " Miss Pony McBerry Greenington is the winner of round two!" she kicks at the remains of Mr. Fluffy with one slippered foot. "I wish I could say the enemy put up a good fight. But he didn't."

Petunia is gently rocking Lena, trying to comfort her. The poor girl simply can't take it – anytime Lena even starts to look up, she sees the pile of ruined scraps and stuffing that used to be Mr. Fluffy. Erebor wants to cry too, he wants to take it back – now he knows how Prin felt when she'd apologized to him before his first 'tournament'. He knows that he's not responsible, at least not in the traditional sense – but that doesn't stop him from breaking his heart over it.

She grabs Erebor by the barrel, crushing the wings again and cutting off his air. She points at Lena with the hand that's holding him. "This is your fault you know." she says, approaching until she stands over them. "You shouldn't have stolen from me." She pauses. "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE STOLEN FROM ME." she yells. Both Lena and Petunia look up. Lena's face is streaked with tears. Nerissa grins. "I'm going to get a new one. A nicer one. The best one. And you won't have any."

Nerissa moves with purpose toward something white and metallic over near a wall. It's one of those mobile space heaters, on wheels, capable of being plugged in, and easily hot enough to burn and melt when at max temperature. It gets quite cold down in the cellar, and Lena's mother uses that space heater to keep things from outright freezing in the craft area. "Nerissa, be careful, that's hot." Petunia warns, gently moving Lena aside so she can stand up. She may hate Nerissa with all her heart, but she's still thinking of her mother's job – and that job would be forfeit if Nerissa were to get hurt. "Oh, I know." Nerissa replies with a wicked grin. "And so does Miss Pony McBerry Greenington."

And with that, she sticks Erebor square between two of the heated slats of the heater.

It feels like he's on fire all over again, except this time it's even worse. He can feel (and smell) himself starting to melt. His delicate wings, already crumpled and broken, catch on fire. He can feel his sides starting to cave in, feel the heat biting into his flesh. But again, just like last time, he remains agonizingly, impossibly awake for it. This is the end, he thinks, and yet, he continues.

"NO!!!!!!!" Lena moves faster than Erebor has ever seen her move. She knocks into Nerissa, pushing the blonde girl down onto the ground. Nerissa shrieks like a banshee, but Lena ignores her. She makes a beeline for the radiator, where Erebor is now trapped. Lena is preparing to reach in, to try to grab him out, but she's pulled away suddenly by Nerissa. Broken by the death of bunny and the ongoing mutilation of her only other friend Ellie (Erebor), Lena finally snaps.

And Lena finally slaps Nerissa right across her face.

Nerissa falls to the floor, dramatically clutching her cheek. Lena and Petunia both are covering their mouths with their hands, shocked that Lena would ever do something like that. To be fair, Lena had never known she could – she'd never even suspected. But more than that, they both know what this means. Slapping Nerissa will no doubt result in dismissal for all of them. Lena begins to cry again, sinking down into a puddle on the floor. After a moment of shock, Nerissa bolts to her feet and up the stairs, screaming for her mother.

Petunia watches her go with sad eyes, knowing there's nothing to be done for it now. The rules are very clear, and much as Nerissa had deserved it, that slap spells doom for all of them. She sighs, and pulls Lena back into her lap, where the girl cries quietly for everything she's loved, everything she's lost, and all the guilt she feels.

No more than 30 minutes later, Petunia hears the door to the cottage creak open. Her mother comes into the cellar a moment later, her face sad. She immediately smells the burning plastic and sees the body of the pony they'd restored so lovingly wedged between two slats of the heater. Clearly her two girls had been so heartbroken they hadn't smelled a thing while that pony had melted and burned, ruined. She sighs – it's an apt metaphor.

She joins the girls on the floor, pulling her tiny family into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you both. And I'm sorry this happened." Her voice is soothing, gentle, and sweet. "We'll find a new place, another place, a nicer place." She tries to sound convincing, but in her heart she knows that there aren't nicer places, not for three women without a man. She knows she'll have to fight to get them any kind of decent lifestyle at all. It's nothing but hard times from here on out.

"Come on girls, we've got to get packing. They've given us a day to be out of here." She hugs them tightly. "So long as we've got each other, we'll be all right."

Nerissa sits on the hill up by the manor watching as they pack. She's holding her new toy, one that looks exactly like the old Miss Pony McBerry Greenington. This one had been custom-ordered from a toymaker in the city; it turns out, they don't really make ones that look like this. But Nerissa's mother had promised her, and mother never turns her back on a promise. She hopes it cost a fortune. The more expensive toys are always the more fun to play with.

Nerissa's mother does not come to see them off. Mrs. Carlisle has her assistant searching for new help, and is too busy preparing for her next gala to think about things like people she's just fired. She does not notice her daughter is not in the house. She doesn't notice that, with Petunia gone, Nerissa no longer has a guardian, and she does not think to hire one.

Petunia doesn't blame her sister. She fears for the family's future, but she is optimistic too. They've survived thus far, they'll continue surviving. She'd hated her position with the Carlisle family anyway; they'd only stayed because her mother had worked there for so long. She'd hated Nerissa, she'd hated how she had to stand by. Now, there's nothing she needs to hate – except herself, for not standing up for her sister sooner. She'll wrestle with that guilt all of her life. It will keep her up at night, and she will never make peace with it.

Petunia and Lena's mother is proud of her daughters. She worries for the future, she isn't sure how she can keep them safe, let alone keep a roof over their head and food in their bellies. But she is determined, and she refuses to let this setback ruin them. They'll find a way. It won't be easy, it won't be pretty, but they'll find a way.

Lena looks at Nerissa sitting on the hill, but she isn't angry with her. She had been, perhaps, when she'd slapped the blonde girl, but that had quickly flamed out. Nerissa doesn't deserve anger, because Nerissa already has too much of it. Instead, Lena pities her. She doesn't have love, and she'll never have love. When they're all packed, as they leave down the road for the last time, Lena turns around and waves, a small bag clutched in her free hand.

And Erebor? In the chaos after the slap, no one had noticed the smell of burning plastic. By the time the harried mother unplugs the heating unit, the damage is already done. Erebor has melted so thoroughly he is almost unrecognizable, and he's singed and charred in places from small fires on his wings, mane, and tail. His shoulders and haunches are touching, hanging down below the crossbar of the heater. The plastic that had once formed his barrel and separated the shoulders and haunches is melted and stretched by the weight, leaving him with an unnaturally thin bridge of plastic to serve as a barrel. His legs are warped and melted, unnaturally elongated by their own weight and the heat. His head is melted backward, shortening his neck unnaturally. He is grotesque, far worse than anything he'd ever been before the restoration.

Luckily, their mother is the one to find him. She sighs sadly and peels him off the heater. Even after all of that, Erebor is still alive – or, at least, still conscious. He exists in a world of pain, every nerve tingling, every inch of his skin and bones and blood boiling and alight. But this time, there is no relief. It's the garbage can all over again, but a thousand times worse.

"There, there now." the kindly housekeeper says. He feels himself scooped up again, by gentle hands. "I don't think there's any fixing you, not this time. Not either of you." He feels something with a rough surface next to him, but it seems squishy – like it has give, or bounce to it in some places, but not much. Mr. Fluffy, he thinks, dimly. He feels himself tumble suddenly, landing with a soft thump and an explosion of pain on something soft that irritates his burned skin. "I'll figure out something. Both of you. Don't you worry." He can almost hear the smile in her voice. "Don't you worry."

And there, with no one to hear but Erebor and a ruined bunny-king and his subjects, the housekeeper finally allows herself to cry.

Lena's mother gives her the bag right before they leave the house. "This is so you can always remember your friends." she says. "They're always with you, in your heart." the housekeeper explains, "And who knows, maybe we'll find someone to fix them up someday." Lena throws her arms around her mother, and together they walk outside and into the unknown.

Erebor

Native Prince of the Chamber

warship x straia