This is the first story in my AU called "Selfish Creatures". It's not a song fic, but I listened to Boy With A Coin by Iron & Wine on repeat while I wrote this, so that might give you a better feel for the mood of the story.
For the purposes of this story, a dwarrow child of 25 would be about the same age as a human child of 6.
Thanks for reading and any feedback you can offer can only help me improve.
In Erebor, no one was hungry.
There is no memory that Nori has in which he is not hungry.
He has learned, over the years, the many different shades and hues of hunger, until he is sure that he could paint murals across the every surface of the Blue Mountains with his knowledge. He knows the faint touch of it that stays even when times are good enough that they eat every day. He is familiar with the echoes of pain that haunt him when he has to wait a day or two at a time before he can put food in his mouth. He is intimate with the clawing, monstrous creature that inhabits his stomach when things start to get truly bad. The worst, though, is when the hunger stops. He's never seen his mother cry so hard as when he tells her that he's not hungry any more.
In Erebor, even the poorest were warm and safe.
Nori was born on the side of a road, in the rain, ten years after the Dragon.
The story bothers Dori, but he thinks that it fits him. After all, he is only twenty years old when his mother takes shelter with the other refugees in Ered Luin and by that point the only roof she can afford to put over their heads is called a hovel by those with kind hearts. Their home is made of wood and located just at the edges of the makeshift city. There is only one room within it and they have no stove. The walls of their home are not tight and the cold seeps in sometimes, but last winter Nori found a dwarrow his same size in the snow, hard as stone and cold as ice. When the cold weather comes again, he cuddles with his mother and Dori and is grateful for it.
In Erebor, there was work for everyone.
Nori is small and scrawny for his age.
He went hungry too long and too often to be as strong and solidly built as his age mates. It is a fact that his mother and Dori each try to blame themselves for, so he is very careful not to mention it. His frame is too slight for the honest work that barely pays enough for his family to survive, but it is just what his mother's brother needs in an apprentice. Nori is thirty five years old and he knows the difference between right and wrong. He also knows that his mother never turns away the money his uncle brings when he come by to visit, even if she cries as she takes it, and he wants to help, too.
In Erebor, neighbors looked out for each other.
The only folk that Nori trusts are the ones he shares blood with.
No dwarrow ever trusts an Elf and Men wear their greed openly. Young dwarrow are cautioned about both races as soon as they understand spoken language, and so he has always known to be wary of them. It's being careful of his own folk that he has trouble remembering. He learns to recognize the guard quickly, no matter what clothing they wear. He learns to tell an easy mark from a chary one just as fast. He still has trouble remembering how much he can trust his fellows, though. It's why he ends up at the mercy of the guards so often. His mother's brother says that only blood can outshine silver and gold. It's a lesson he struggles to remember.
In Erebor, children were treasured.
Nori wonders what children did with themselves before the Dragon.
He earns more in one job now than his mother and Dori do in a month combined. He's skilled enough to take jobs on his own, but working with his mother's brother is safer for both of them so they often seek jobs together. By the time he turns sixty years old he knows that it isn't safe for him to go home any more. The guard don't know his name, but they know his face and when they call him "thiefling" it sounds like a curse. When he visits, it's only at night and never without a gift of coins to leave behind. One day Dori tells him that he must choose. Either he can stay and Dori will help him find an honest job or he can leave and not come back. The words sting and he doesn't understand why Dori's doing this, but then he sees how round his mother's stomach is. His mother tells him he doesn't have to choose if he doesn't want to, but he knows better than them the danger he represents to his family. His mother holds him tightly and doesn't stop crying, even when he promises to write as often as he can.
There is no Erebor.
Nori is too old for fairy tales.
He needs one last job before he can leave. His mother's brother agrees to help him, but it takes a month to plan everything out and another three weeks before the circumstances are right. The windfall is everything they thought it to be, but the heat that results is greater than they expected and now his uncle must leave, too. He keeps only what he must have for traveling and takes the rest to his mother's home in the darkest hours before dawn. Dori is surprised to see him and tries to push away the heavy bag that he offers, but healers are expensive and birthing is not an easy thing for a dwarrowdam. Dori takes the money and gives him a gift. His sibling is to be named Ori. Dori knocks their foreheads together gently and won't stop crying, even when he promises to send money home as often as he can.