Thorin couldn't fully recall when his father started to change, he was young enough as it was when his grandfather died and his father stepped up to the throne, bringing a new adviser with him that had slowly begun to become his father's right hand man in almost everything. Now, if Thorin were to think about it, he would actually concur that his father began to change with the calling of the new adviser. His father, once wise and well aware of all the goings on in the mountain and his family, turned into an ignorant unaware King which began to reflect on his kingdom and kin. But it was not only in mind that his father began to slip, but in appearance. Once a young and hearty dwarf his father was, now sat an unmoving decrepit and wrinkled dwarf that looked to have lived as long as the eldest elf. His father began to refuse leaving his throne, sleeping in it at times, and stopped participating in an event that every dwarf heartily partook of which was eating. Thorin recalled a certain time before his coming of age when Dís, his younger sister, had fallen to his father's feet in tears, begging him to have one meal with them as a family like they used to; but his father had sat there, gazing at the black orb in his hands and peering over his own daughter as if she wasn't even there.
A few times Thorin could remember some sensible actions his father had made, such as making him the Captain of the guard at the ripe age of 101, and appointing his best friend, Dwalin, and his younger brother, Frerin, as his first and second lieutenants. He later, due to an increase of people in the mountain, added a second army, making Thorin the Head Captain of both, and Dwalin the Captain of the first. Thorin was going to appoint his brother as the Captain od the second, but his father's adviser had shocked them all when he had already appointed a Captain and lieutenant for the second army, leaving a very disgruntled but honored Frerin to be the lieutenant of the first army under Dwalin. The trio had become closer than brothers with their years spent together.
For 75 years they had lived in peace, till orcs and goblins threatened Moria. His father saw enough sense to order Thorin to lead his first army and take back Moria with the help of the Iron Hill dwarves who were on there way to join them; but many things happened between those 75 years.
His father had done a total of five sensible things within those plentiful years. The first was when he had accepted and announced Dís's One, Víli. Víli was an exceptional dwarf for someone so young, and happened to be Dwalin's second lieutenant, allowing the three older dwarves to interrogate Víli to their hearts content. It wasn't till after a sudden joke about an orc and an elf that really won the approval of Dwalin, and initiated everyone else's, except for Thorin and Frerin's. This was their little sister, and she deserved nothing less than the absolute best, but Víli soon proved himself.
Dís had been traveling the mountain by herself weapon less, something she had been told not to do almost a thousand times, when she was besieged by a group of dwarves looking to make a trade for gold. Dís had fought bravely, but had been outmatched by the ten dwarves given her age, but Víli was there. He had been traveling around the dark tunnels to spot any trouble when he found them all hovering over Dís, spitting insults and lies and other foul things that he thankfully did not go into detail about.
Thorin had been surprised when Víli had come barging into the royal chambers, a large crowd behind him, and his sister in his arms crying into the lieutenant's shoulder. He was furious once he had found out what happened and sent his best to find the dwarves who had done what they had, and when Dwalin and Frerin went back down to the alley to investigate the dwarves, they found all of them dead, aside from three. Those three left alive had Thorin, Dwalin, and Frerin's names carved into their foreheads; a gift from Víli to allow the family to take part in the justice that was deserved. The other dead dwarves had not left the world in ease, and that was when Thorin and Frerin agreed that they trusted this dwarf with their lives. Only when Víli had taken care of Dis every available moment he had after the accident and even began to train her, did they trust him with the life of their younger sister.
Then, their father had officiated the wedding for the happy couple, later announcing the arrival of their first born, Thorin's little nephew, Fíli. He had been a golden bundle of joy, and the kingdom had celebrated for a week. Five years later, Thrain had announced the arrival of Kíli, another bundle of joy till he could walk, turning into a whirlwind of terror; and then eight years later the wonderful announcement of a baby girl. The celebration for that had been a mighty one, and Fíli and Kíli had taken to Merís like fish to water, teaching her tricks, games, and the best way to get away with things; but Merís was her own little person from the start, with the loving heart of her father, and the cunning mind of her mother which made even Dwalin fearful when she would come around as a young child demanding to be taught how to wield a weapon before she had even turned twelve.
But now they were preparing to leave for Moria. Thorin recalls an incident just before they left, where Merís had come to them all in the sitting room and had announced her intentions of going with them on their mission to take back Moria. She had been met with a resounding no, and not only from her mother and father. Merís had been livid, and left to the library, not coming back for several hours where she then plopped herself in the corner armchair to read a book.
Dís had come up to Merís, and had asked her to do something, which Merís had said yes, as she was not one to disobey her parents; but she had immediately turned to Kíli, who had just walked into the room, and commanded him to go and do the task. Kíli had run off to do it instantly, owing Merís a debt which was very unwise, and Dís had scolded her.
"I do not understand why you should be so angry with me, mother," Merís had argued calmly, something Thorin knew she inherited from her father; but her spine of mithril was all from her mother. "It is not like it is not getting done."
"That is not the point," Dís had snapped, crossing her arms over her chest in a warning that made even Thorin wince for whoever got it worse in this argument, especially when Merís had sat up straighter as if in a challenge. "You cannot just pass off the assignment when you are fully capable to do it."
"But, isn't that what you are doing?" Merís questioned with a frown, and the room grew eerily quiet. Frerin looked to be on the verge of tears trying to hold his laughter at bay from the dumbstruck look on Dís' face. "You, who have more years and knowledge on me, are passing on this deed when you are more qualified." Frerin had a sudden coughing fit which required him to lean over the armchair and cough hysterically. Dís had a pinched expression on her face, and even Thorin was fighting a smile. His niece was very intelligent, sometimes a little too much. Thorin felt an ounce of pity for Víli who was making frantic gestures to his daughter and mouthing something that looked like, 'Please, stop! For the love of Mahal, STOP!'
"Don't you get smart with me, young lady," Dís warned, a dangerous growl in her voice.
"Are you implying that I should be dumb with you then, mother?" Thorin figured a nice jewel flower crown atop of Merís' head for her funeral would brighten up her blonde hair a little bit more. Dís looked thunderously at her daughter, and Frerin did not laugh this time, staring at the two with a his mouth shaped into a huge 'o', his eyes as wide as gold coins. Even Merís looked to have known she had crossed the line.
"Oh, Mahal," Víli had sighed, rubbing his head in exhaustion. Dís slowly raised her head up high, and Merís did not back down as she gazed - either by being brave or suicidal Thorin did not know - back at her mother.
"Dwalin," Dís called out, voice cool and soft that Thorin shivered in fear for her nephew. "Take my daughter to the sparring fields, where you will spar with her and have others spar with her for the total of two hours straight." Merís looked relieved by the punishment, but those who knew Dís the best, held their breaths knowing that there was more to her punishment. Dís looked lethal when she smiled at her daughter. "Then, daughter of mine, I shall come and join you, and we shall have a little talk about respect when we spar." A small groan came from Víli. No one could beat Dís. She had earned the title of shield maiden long ago, and had kept it that way. Thorin had even considered making Dís a Captain of a third army that Thorin was trying to get, as she had bested him and Dwalin on many occasions. Merís had shut her book gently, standing and giving her mother a defiant look.
"I look forward to it, mother." She turned to the door, Dwalin right behind her. "Come, Dwalin. My mother likes her sword, so I shall practice with an ax for the first hour." Dwalin wasn't fighting his grin anymore, for everyone knew that Merís was the Captain's favorite pupil and took pride in everything she did. She was the star student in all her teacher's eyes, after having her older brothers, but she had become the best fighter after her years of training, even besting Thorin at one point, but he had not been looking so it did not count. Her uncle Frerin she had bested many a time, which was a sad thing since her uncle, after the fifth time being defeated, fought his niece as if she were an orc trying to kill him. Dwalin had threatened a demotion, and said he was going to make Merís his first lieutenant, something that made Frerin so angry he had dyed his axes a bright pink. Once the doors had closed Dís had fallen into Merís' empty seat with a sigh, her head falling onto her shoulders.
"She has never been this sassy before," she commented, rubbing her temples slowly.
"I told you," Frerin said smugly, kicking his legs up on the arms of his chair, "that all that time in the library would turn her into a smart ass, and an even smarter ass than you." Dís growled low, standing to walk over to her husband, and if she flipped her brother over the chair on her way, no one protested. Víli chuckled, wrapping his arms around his wife in comfort.
"You know she's still upset that she can't come with to Moria," Víli said good naturedly. Dís stared at nothing with an incredulous look.
"She's crazy. Absolutely crazy for thinking that she could come with us in the first place! She and her brothers." Thorin snorted, remembering how well that talk had gone.
"They are all of age, and worry seeing their family go to war and them not able to help," Thorin said, crossing off an item on his list. Dís glared at her brother.
"Do you suggest that simply because they 'are of age' that they should go off to war just because they are of age?!" Dis raged. "Because let me tell you something, my children might be of age, but Merís just turned 60 not even a whole month ago, Fíli is only 13 years into figuring out his interests as an adult, and don't even get me started on Kíli, who has just barely started running around with all his proper clothes on; and you want them to go marching to war with us simply because they are of age?" Thorin sighed, giving her a look, but held his tongue because he knew his sister was not done shouting. "You want them to die because they have lived a good long 60 years and then some?!" Frerin winced at that, comfortably sprawled out on the floor where he had landed.
"Why do you have to be such a downer?" he grumbled, flicking the tassels on the bottom of his chair with a pout.
"You know that's not what he meant, darling," Víli intervened. "But think of it, had you been of age only a day and your father and brothers were going off to war, would you not demand to go with?" Dís sniffed, not looking at anyone. They all knew the answer to that question.
"That's different," she grumbled, but Víli just gave her a fond look. She scowled at him then. "Ugh! I hate when you're right." Víli grinned, placing a kiss on his wife's forehead before walking over to the book Merís had left. He chuckled after reading the title.
"'How To Properly Insult Someone With Your Words And Your Wit'," he grinned looking at his wife. "I didn't know you wrote books, my darling." Dís punched him none too gently in the arm, and gazed at the book.
"She probably just got it today from the library," Dís said.
"I told you," Frerin called out, holding up his pointer finger. "Too much books, and you'll be a little weirdo. A smart little weirdo; but a little weirdo nonetheless, and your daughter is one smart little weirdo." Dís scowled.
"You know her main reason for going to the library is not to read books," Dís scoffed, shaking her head and going back to the leather cover, missing everyone's curious gaze on her.
"What are her intentions, if she does not go to read and check out books?" Thorin asked, looking at Víli for some explanation, but the poor dwarf looked just as confused or even more so. Dís looked at them all before chuckling.
"You don't know?" Frerin sighed dramatically at his sister's smug tone.
"Does it look like we know?" Dís shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, I'm just worried is all. Her own father and uncles, trained to be hypervigilant in the goings on around them, to not see when she has a crush on someone? I think it's time you all retire." There was a stunned silence till Frerin seemed to have a spasm on the ground as he tried to sit up.
"WHAT?!" Thorin felt as hurt and surprised as his brother sounded. He knew he was Merís' uncle, so matters of the heart would have been a little awkward for the both of them to talk about, but he hoped that she knew she could talk to him, if need be. Dís nodded, frowning at Frerin, Víli and himself with a stormy glare growing.
"Now, don't you three get all weird and try and interrogate every last dwarf who works in the library, because I already know his name," she announced ever so smugly. Víli gaped at his wife.
"Who is it?" Dís shrugged her shoulders at her husband's question, shaking her head in confusion.
"I don't remember his name, just his face; but Kíli has spoken of him with kindness, and Fíli thinks he is perhaps a little weird - "
"It's the books!" Frerin couldn't help but interrupt, looking positively knowing that books caused great evil as he had always proclaimed in his youth. Dís ignored him.
"But other than that, all I know is that he has absolutely captured little Merís' heart, and, if my snooping around has done any good - "
"Which it probably hasn't," Thorin commented, eyeing his sister with a knowing gaze.
"Then I know that that dwarf is absolutely infatuated with Merís. Treats her like a proper princess, though he doesn't know that she is one. The poor thing is so terribly shy. Spilled an entire ink bottle on himself when she came to ask him for help on finding a book the first time they met." Thorin tilted his head. A dwarf spilling ink bottles all over himself sounded vaguely familiar. Frerin snorted, resting his head on his arms.
"Sounds like that brilliant new scribe Scara has been apprenticing," he said with a small frown. "Oh, what's his name . . . Opi? Dopy? Anyway, poor bloke spilled his ink bottle all over his tunic and threw his papers everywhere when I tried to say hello." That's why it sounded so familiar to Thorin.
"You didn't really say hello, if I recall, brother," Thorin smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. Frerin grinned.
"Well, I didn't get a chance, what with jumping out from behind the throne and making him almost wet himself. Then I had to collect my winnings." Thorin shook his head. Frerin had seen the new scribe a few years ago, and as a welcome, he wanted to give him a proper scarring. He told Thorin of his intentions, and instead of being a well behaved Prince of Erebor like he was supposed to be, Thorin had made a bet with him, saying he couldn't scare anyone. He had been wrong, and with how the little scribe had looked to have near had a heart attack, Frerin had thoroughly apologized and made sure to send the scribe some new inks, quills, and papers with the money he had earned from Thorin.
"That's the chap," Dís said with a look of disapproval. "I think his name's Ori, now that you mention it." Frerin gave her an astonished grin.
"Are you serious?" he scoffed, before giving a quick shake of his head and staring at the high ceilings.
"What?" Dís had demanded, glaring at her brother. Frerin shrugged.
"Oh nothing, just thought Merís' type was big, bad, and kind of a brute, to be honest." Frerin made a face. "But it's the total opposite of that. Instead, she's into the small, the goody-goody, and the bookish. I will admit, it is impressive for someone so young to be apprenticing for the court, but a quill will not save your skin in a battle." Dís shook her head at her brother, but Víli still looked concerned.
"Hang on, what do you mean he doesn't know she's a princess?" Dís made a face.
"That's what I mean. She hasn't fully introduced herself to him, and he doesn't know who she is since he's still rather new. I found out that Merís held a meeting, and forbid any of the servants from telling Ori about who she is. Even went as far as to make sure that he wasn't at social events that she had to be at." Víli shook his head at nothing, not looking surprised at his daughter's antics. Thorin frowned.
"But he's a scribe for the courts, surely he's seen her at one." But Dís was shaking her head before he was done with his sentence.
"She doesn't go to those, what with her canny ability to weasel her way out of everything, the little brat," Dís growled, but there was no real heat in her words. Frerin made a soft sound of surprise.
"Strange," he said rolling around to stare at Thorin with a confused look, "sounds oddly familiar." Thorin smiled, but looked at his brother in feared amusement. "The youngest daughter . . . weaseling her way out of things that no one wants to be apart of . . . a brat . . . why, sister!" Frerin cried in excitement, turning to face her with a smile. "That's you!" Thorin laughed heartily, enjoying when Dís growled and lunged towards her older brother, and Thorin swears he never saw a dwarf move so fast as Frerin jumped up from the floor and began running around the room. Víli didn't even try to stop the two when they passed him, and only lifted his arm out of the way when Dís snatched his sword from his scabbard, challenging Frerin to a fight to the death. Frerin had screamed so loudly and high pitched that it sent Thorin off again as Frerin ran from the chamber, Dís hot on his heels and brandishing her sword. "I'm sorry, I'm SORRY!" Frerin screamed, shoving people out of his way as he ran for his life, Dis shouting swear words at him, plowing through anyone who got in her way.
"Frerin! I will crush you!" Dis bellowed, so loud Thorin thought he felt the very mountain tremble. Thorin had not stopped laughing, even though this scene was not a new one to him; but every time his brother and sister pulled something like that, it managed to make him laugh. His two nephews came walking into the room from the other end of the hall, gazing down the ruins of his siblings.
"Papa, where is mama?" Víli sighed, turning to Kíli and Fíli with a pitying look.
"Who is not here?" The boys looked around.
"Mama?" Kíli asked more then responded, and Thorin hid his smile under his hand. His nephews though surprisingly smart at certain times, were more heart than brain. Víli nodded encouragingly, if but a little disappointed.
"And?" Fíli and Kíli looked around with a calculating look. Thorin suddenly had to cough.
"Uncle Frerin," Fíli said with triumph, and he turned to Kíli with eyes lighting with a spark that made many a grown dwarf want to hide in a hole until the spark went out. "Which means, that Uncle Frerin was funny, and mama didn't like it, so she chased him out, and father's missing his sword . . . " his nephew trailed off, sharing a suspicious grin with Kíli.
"Let's go watch!" the two shouted at the same time, running after his siblings who had no doubt created a huge mess in all the halls leading down to the training fields. Víli sighed coming to stand by Thorin.
"I swear, if I hadn't been at both of their births and nearly killed by Dís both times, I would've thought they were twins." Thorin chuckled, getting up and walking out of the room with Víli to make sure none in the line of Durin died that day.
They left for Moria soon after that, and Thorin was relieved to see Merís standing on the gate wall watching them leave, even if it looked like she had given them all a gesture that could only have been taught too eagerly by Dwalin. The large army went through the Greenwood, and were mere miles away from Moria when a crow over head came swooping down, crying out his name.
"Thorin! Thorin!"
Thorin had listened to the relayed message of the raven, and had no choice but to return to the mountain, after all, he could not disobey the King's orders when he demanded the return of the Head Captain only, and immediately at that. Before he could tell the others of his father's wishes, his younger sister was smacking two of his soldiers in the head, grabbing their ears and practically lifting them off the ground in her anger. His shock was replaced with annoyance when the soldiers father intervened . . . well, tried to intervene, but Dís shot a murderous look at her husband, and Víli had backed down as quickly as he had tried to stop the probable death of his sons, leaving Fíli and Kíli to deal with the wrath of their mother alone. Thorin wasn't at all surprised when he had to bring his nephew's home, actually happy to know that his sister's sons would be returned home where they would be staying; but he was loath to see Dwalin leave the battle before even getting there, even if the dwarf insisted on staying by his side. Frerin was more than willing to lead the troops onward to the Mountains, and had tried to make Thorin bring a few back home. If there was such a dire need for the Captain to leave them on the brink of battle, then it was obvious that Erebor needed assistance. Thorin refused, and ordered all to stick to the plan until word from him said otherwise. He was already robbing his army of their Head Captain and Captain, he would not take more from them.
"Are we at the Greenwood yet?" Kíli whined, throwing his head back with a groan. Dwalin scowled at the boy while Fíli grinned at his brothers complaints. The four were on ponies, trotting at a swift pace that would allow them to make it back to Erebor quickly enough. They had left as soon as they sat down on their saddles, which had not even been a full hour ago.
"Do ye have a beard yet?" Dwalin shot back, making the young boy sit up in his saddle, glaring at the back of the older dwarf's head.
"Sort of," Kíli defended, rubbing at the little stubble that had begun to grow on the young kids face.
"Well, we're sort of not there, like your beard." Kíli slouched back on his seat, pouting even more when his older brother reached out to pat his thigh sympathetically. Thorin shook his head with a fond smile for his nephews, turning his head over his shoulder to catch Kíli's eye.
"Why are you in such a hurry to get back to Greenwood, inùdoynamadaz?" Kíli blushed a deep scarlet red, and Thorin's eyebrows lifted higher as his nephew began to squirm in unease, no doubt searching his mind for an excuse.
"I-erm . . . that is to say-I . . . ."
"He lost his hairclip," Fíli explained, his voice steady and convincible that Kíli agreed with him instantly. At a quick glance, Thorin noticed how Kíli's hair - which was normally pulled back and clipped to the side with a small clip his mother had made for him - was indeed loose, and flowing. There was an understanding silence amongst them, as both Dwalin and Thorin knew how happy Dís would be to find out her son had lost his hair clip, again. "In someone's hair." Thorin heard the not so soft punch Kíli landed on Fíli's arm, and the sniggers of his older nephew. Thorin was a little startled at the news. Placing something of importance into someone's hair (like a bead, or clip) usually showed an interest from both the giver and acceptor and led to a courtship. Dwalin turned around to face the youngest Durin with a feral grin.
"Nice goin' laddie! Now," he sniffed turning back to face the front, "how drunk did you have to get 'em?" Fíli's loud guffaws drowned out Kíli's huffs of irritation. Even Thorin was hard pressed not to chuckle at his nephew's now obvious crush on this mystery maiden or fellow.
"I didn't get him drunk!" Kíli growled defensively. "He was fully aware of what was happening, and had consented before I put it in!"
"I didn't know you got that far with him, Kíli," Fíli admitted, before bolting in between Thorin and Dwalin's ponies, Kíli hot on his tail.
"Get back here, you son of an Orc!"
"I'm tellin' mama you called her that!"
"FÍLI!" Thorin was happy to say that they made it to Greenwood faster than he had expected.