A broken promise
'Do you think she could have loved me?'
The red haired she elf looked down at the dwarf she had healed and frowned. Was that the reason why she was there? Love? She did not know.
Kili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, spoke true words in fever. He knew his heart, he loved the red haired elf who had saved his life - again. But in his fever he also knew that she did not even know what love was.
#
'We stand by our men in life - we will stand by them in death!' the women of Laketown grabbed everything that could be used as a weapon and charged towards the orcs which threatened to overrun their husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. Their love made them strong and brave. Many songs would be sung about them after this costly battle.
#
'You think that your life is worth more than theirs.' the red haired elf stopped the elf king Thranduil as he retreated from the city of Dale. 'But there is no love in it - there is no love in you!'
Thranduil lowered his gaze. He would not show his people how much these words hurt. Only he himself knew how untrue they were. But he would not stand back. Not to the elf who did not even recognise true love when it stood before her and thus, spoke in ignorance.
'You know nothing of love! What you feel for this...dwarf...is not real.' the king stated cruelly. 'You think it is love? Are you ready to die for it?'
#
Later that same day, all of them had their answers.
'If this is love, then I do not want it.' the red haired elf sobbed. To her feet lay the body of one of the young Durin princes, Kili the archer. His body grew cold in her hands and his blood had stopped flowing out of the deep hole in his chest.
'Why does it hurt so much?' tears stramed down the beautiful, but beaten face of the red haired elf. Desperate, she looked up to her king. 'Please, rid me of it.'
Thranduil looked down at the desperate red hair and frowned. A cruel smirk graced his beautiful face, but his eyes betrayed his sorrow and grief. Not for the dwarf, not even for the red hair, but for the familiar feeling of loss he had suffered himself.
'It hurts, because the love was true.' he whispered and turned away. 'And only cowards wish to trade the memory of true love against their peace of mind and soul.'
Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, felt cold rage as he looked down at his former captain. As he had not come to stand at the dwarves' side, she had thought him to be ignorant of love; true love. But she could not be more wrong. Long before the captain was even born, Thranduil had lost his wife, Orowen, to the dark forces of Gundabad. His wife had led the army of Mirkwood into battle thousands of years ago, but was turned to ash by dragon fire under the eyes of her husband. She could not be buried, there never was a grave for her husband and son to mourn properly. Today, the prince of Mirkwood could not even remember his mother and Thranduils heart had frozen. Thranduil knew how much true love could hurt. He was living with this knowledge for ages, the pain never diminishing.
The red hair stayed behind and kneeled on the cold floor, sobbing for her tough fate and her pain, still not fully understanding what true love was. She did not want to understand and only felt the numbness in her heart from the loss. The loss of the one who could have been her true love. She wept only for herself, for the things she had lost.
Kili had known, he had gone to death for her. Instead of dying an honorable death at the side of his brother and uncle, he had died below her gaze.
Now, the red hair was doomed to wander the lands, alone in her grief.
#
Further south, half a world away, another female felt the grief over the loss of the ones she loved. Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, had lost her grandfather, her husband and her brother in Moria, her father in Dol Guldur and now her other brother and her sons. The latter had left the protection of the Blue Mountains to reclaim their old home, Erebor. None of the ones Dis loved would ever see Erebor restored. And Dis would not either.
Dis would never set foot into the cursed mountain which had taken the rest of her family from her. The dwarven princess stood tall and proud on a balcony of the Blue Mountains and looked north to the Lonely Mountain. She would not yield, she would not give up in her grief. She was a daughter of Durin, brave and strong, she would never give in to selfpity. Not a single tear streamed down her bearded face. She would hold the memory of the ones she loved in high honor. Never would she even wish to trade one single memory of her family for lesser pain. Love hurt, of that she was aware. And she would embrace the pain. And the grief - over a broken promise.
Dis stood there, like a statue of old, gazing up to the stars. While she watched the sparkling night, a shadow of a she-elf crossed the sky, wandering the stars, all by herself.