A/N: This will be a two-shot, with the first chapter being Dis' thoughts, and feelings about her two sons leaving, and her final moments spent with them. The second chapter will be about her thoughts and feelings after the Battle Of The Five Armies (and yes, I will follow the book's ending, so be forewarned!). This isn't going to be a happy story.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit, any characters therein, or the actors who portray those characters. If I did, I certainly wouldn't share them.
"You'll be careful now, laddies, won't you?"
Dis didn't miss Kili's eye roll, or Fili's responding glare, as she she fussed a bit more with their packs.
"Of course we will, mum. I'll look after him, you know that," Fili said gently, kneeling by her side.
"What?! You'll look out for me?! I'm not the one who –"
The gentle look Dis sent her youngest made him hush, thankfully. She didn't want her last hour spent with her sons with them bickering.
Damn her brother to the pits of Moria, she thought bitterly, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes as she latched up the second pack. The selfish dwarf thought nothing of her pain.
"They must go, Dis. They're old enough now that they can start doing their duty as heirs of –"
"If you finish that sentence, Thorin, I swear to Mahal that I shall cleave your skull in two," Dis cut her older brother off, ignoring the startled look in his eye. "I weary of giving my kin for 'duty'. 'Duty' does nothing to ease the breaking heart of losing my father. It doesn't comfort me to hear of my brother's death as his 'duty'. And 'duty' does not make my grief any less at the loss of my husband. When will the Maker be satisfied with the House of Durin's 'duty'?" She asked bitterly, hanging her head. "Is it not enough that I have sacrificed my home, my parents, my brother, and my husband? Why must I sacrifice my sons as well for this accursed 'duty'? What will it take to satisfy Mahal's blood lust?"
"Dis," Thorin said softly, laying his large, calloused hand on her own. "I will keep them safe."
She pulled her hand back sharply, pushing herself to her feet. "Our father told mother the same thing about Frenrir. You both swore to me that my husband would return to me. Safe. Bagh. What knows a mother's heart of 'safe'?"
"Sister, I love those boys as they were mine own. You know this. I would not let any harm befall them."
"You're not their mother!" Dis snapped, flinging her cast iron skillet to the floor in frustration. "Fili is barely old enough to be braiding his hair! And Kili does not even have his beard yet, Thorin! They're too young! They've never known the heart-ache of battle! Of the blood, and pain, and agony that must accompany it! They still believe your exaggerated tales of the 'greatness' of war! Of heroes of old being infallible, coming home after every battle to the safety of their hearth! They don't understand that the only thing sadder than a battle won, is a battle lost! You've filled their heads with such nonsense that they don't see the dangers. They don't understand that every time our kind goes to battle, at least half never return home again! They think of only the 'glory'; not of those who are left strewn across the dying fields when all is said and done!
"You forget to whom you speak, Thorin Oakenshield! I'm not a simple hearth-wife; I fought by your side many a time before my sons were born. Before I was Dis, mother of your heirs, I was Dis, Bowmistress of the Mountain, and I have seen the horror that your cursed 'duty' brings. I've seen the dead littered across the fields, outnumbering the living. The moans of the dying, and the curses of the living. I held Frenrir's hand as he slipped from this world into the Halls of Our Fathers. I heard his cries for our mother, his body riddled with arrows and cuts. I sat by Rilin's side, and watched him fade from this world, delusional, and in agonizing pain, until Mahal finally had mercy on him, and freed him from his earthly form.
"And now, you ask of me to give you my sons as well. To sacrifice them for your 'cause'. Well to that I say, to the Pits of Doom with Erebor! To the cold and barren wastelands with you and your 'duty'! I shall not let you take my sons from me, brother! Over my dead, cold, and lifeless body shall you take from me the only thing I have left!"
Thorin sighed as he stood, walking over to her, and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Dis... I've already told them. Whether or not you wish it, Fili and Kili will not be left behind. Nor would I force them to stay, even if it were within my power to do so. I understand your pain, dear sister. But they are not dwarflings any longer. The time has come for them to grow into their own; to become the great Dwarven warriors they are meant to be. My heart aches with your pain, little sister, but I would not so shame them by forcing them to remain behind."
Dis pulled away again, her anger giving way to the cold, numbing acceptance of fate as she watched her brother retreat from her, moving towards the door. Walking away as if he hadn't just shattered her world.
"You understand nothing, brother," She said quietly. "You know nothing of my pain."
He paused, only for a moment, but the coward would not look at her, as he silently left.
"Mum?"
Dis pulled herself from her thoughts, forcing herself to smile at her youngest, as she pushed herself to her feet, her bones aching from weariness.
"I'm sorry, Kili. I was just trying to think if I'd forgotten anything," She said, waving her hand absently around the sitting room of their small home.
"You've packed half the house, mother," Fili said with a smile, as he shouldered his pack, Kili following his brother's lead. "I'm sure we have enough for ten adventures stowed away."
She felt her heart breaking anew, as she stared at them. Her boys.
Fair-haired Fili, who looked so much like his late father that it nearly made her weep at times. Fili, her first-born, who had stepped in to help raise his brother after Rilin had died. Fili, who was her solid rock in any storm. Fili, whose hair she'd started braiding only five short years ago.
And Kili. Sweet, good-natured Kili. Kili who was the mirror image of Thorin at that age. Kili, who had always been able to make her laugh, no matter what hardship time had wrought upon her. Kili, who had given her nearly a full head of gray hair with his antics. Kili, who would rather climb trees, and chase pretty girls than do his lessons.
She tried to fight back her tears. It wouldn't do, to sadden her sons on that day. But she couldn't resist reaching up, and straightening Fili's cloak. Couldn't resist tucking Kili's ever unruly hair behind his ears.
"We'll be fine, mother," Fili said softly, seeming to sense her anxiety. "We'll look out for each other."
"Of course we will!" Kili added with a grin. "And soon, we'll send word for you to come join us in our new home."
"Aye, I know you will, laddies," She said softly, forcing a small smile to her face. "You just... You just listen to your uncle, and you'll be fine."
She pulled them both to her, and wrapped her arms around them as best she could. She remembered when she'd still been able to pick them up, and put one on each of her shoulders, and now she barely came to their chests, she thought sadly.
A knock on the door finally made her release her grip.
"That will be Dwalin," Kili said, his dark eyes nearly dancing in his excitement, racing over and throwing the door open.
"Ready ta go, lads?"
"Of course we are!" Kili said with a laugh. "Just saying good-bye to Mum."
With that, her youngest was out the door, Fili barely taking the time to give her a kiss on the top of her head, before he chased after his little brother.
Now that they were gone, Dis let the tears flow freely, one hand over her mouth to keep from calling them back to her.
"They'll be fine, lassie," Dwalin said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder, and giving her a smile. "I'll look out for them."
Dis could only nod, unable to speak as she looked up at her childhood lover, and long-time confident. He seemed to understand, giving her shoulder a light squeeze, before trailing out the door after her sons.
Mahal, hear my prayers. I've given you so much already, and asked you for so little. Please... Please, return my sons safely home to me.