Chapter 9: T.A. 2790 – The Doom Lies In Yourself, Not In Your Name
"That cannot be borne! We'll have war!"
Those were the first words they heard from Thrain after seven long days and his voice was rough when it broke the silence that had befallen the whole household since they had received the news that Orcs had slain their king.
They all winced, when he showed up, his face a mask of grief, of anger and of barely hidden ferocity, his eyes reddened, tired and dry and his hair and beard torn in utter despair.
A lack of sleep and too little food and drink had left their marks upon him, but he waved Dis out of his way when she wanted to hand a mug of zûl to him. The gaze he beheld her with was wild and grim and so was his voice, when he went on: "Send word to the rest of our kin, send word to all of the seven kingdoms and make known what happened in the darkness of Khazad-dum! Make known the regicide and the desecration of the king! Make known that this will not remain unanswered. They shall ready for war, the Orcs will pay for this!"
No one dared to speak, until Thorin raised his gaze, hoping to catch his father's eye: "It shall happen as you wish, my lord, if you really wish it to happen, but, father, won't you make a try to rest before you call them all to arms?"
Thrain stared at him, eyes wide and frowning: "Not yet, son! First, we'll mourn and honour the king the way our traditions demand it."
"That would mean to bury him, to give him back to rock and stone!" Dis talked back and all who were present grew stiff at her words: "You have no corpse to bury, you have no tomb! All you have is the knowledge that he'll not return. We mourned him for seven days, since poor Nar returned home. There is no more we can do."
"Quiet, lass", her father hissed: "We'll do as we always did, as our ancestors did and as our followers will do."
"Mourn the dead, then go to battle, that there will be even more to mourn?" Dis huffed when she pushed past her brothers, then she grabbed her cape and left the hall.
When the door slammed shut, some embarrassed silence followed before the murmur started and before they all dared to breathe and move again.
Frerin and Thorin changed a look, and first the younger, then the older followed their sister unnoticed as soon as the discussion broke loose about what to do and how.
They all agreed that they would not condone the deed the Orcs committed and that neither their words would remain unanswered nor their leader unpunished.
"No Orc will be King of Khazad-dum", Thrain roared: "However he may name himself! Wherever he may come from! He'll get repaid and I'll take the purse back to him on my own! Equal the cost, equal how long it may take! That, my friends, I swear by Durin's name! That Orc filth will regret the day it started messing with my kin!"
Dis did not care what her father, her brothers or anyone else would say or think about her running away.
She just had enough of traditions and the talk about death and war.
Since Nar had returned home, since he had brought the terrible news about the king's death, the only things all the males, who regularly met in her father's house, knew to talk about were revenge and revenge and revenge!
She hated the word, she hated its meaning and she hated what it would cause sooner or later; most probably rather sooner than later...
Since they had taken flight from Erebor, they had never stopped talking about it all: the gold, the dragon, the heirloom, the mountain, the Arkenstone, the treason of the Elves, the revenge...
For twenty years...
No, she had heard more than enough of it, and so she ran over the meadows and the fields until her sides started to burn and until her lungs began to protest.
She stopped and wrapped her cape and arms round her body, waited till she was able to breathe steadily again, then she closed her eyes and listened to the wind, as it waved over the hills, inhaled the scent of the wild flowers and enjoyed the warmth of the sun caressing her cheeks.
This was not a bad life!
Of course, it was not easy – they all had to learn that it needed hard work to survive in a world outside the safety of their underground halls – but it was no bad life.
For twenty years they had lived this life, twenty years in peace, but now they would go to war again.
Sorrow, worry, tears, blood, death and grief would come upon them once again – things she did not miss, things she did not long for.
Letting out a sigh, she dropped down where she stood and wrapped her arms round her knees. The soil was warm and she would not go back that soon. Not as long as the sun was out and there was still daylight.
First when a shadow fell upon her and when another dropped down beside her, she looked up:
The bold intruders were her brothers. Of course, she should have known it.
"Did they send you after me", she said, her voice silent, which was, as her brothers had experienced before, a dangerous thing to happen.
"Not really", Frerin replied, wearing a sheepish smile.
"Not this time", Thorin added.
"And none the less you're here?"
"So are you, sister, aren't you?" Frerin nudged her.
Dis couldn't help, she had to smile. He always managed her to do so and it still worked: "So it would seem..."
"Why did you run away, little one", Thorin asked: "It's not the hour for turning your back on the living and the dead."
"I neither turned my back on the living nor did I turn it on the dead! I turned it on the talk of war!"
"Don't you think we have to respond to a cruel deed like this?"
Thorin looked at her expectantly, but she just beheld her hands, intertwined them and untangled them. After a while she replied: "You'll not like my answer, brother."
"We'll find out. Just go ahead..."
Dis blinked, then said: "Lord Fundin warned the king, he told him not to leave, but he would not listen! Will you tell me what drove him away from his family, his kin? There was no need for him to go to Khazad-dum! No need! What did he think he'd find there?"
"Answers, perhaps, to never asked questions", Frerin threw in: "at least he actually was the rightful king of Moria as well."
"King! Yes, that he was. It is all I will remember of him. That he was the king!"
The two brothers stared at her first, in utter confusion, then exchanged a look and stared at her again.
The question they wanted to ask her was written on their brows and so she went on: "What do you remember of him? He was our grandfather, but as long as I can think, he had always only been the king for us. You were his heirs, ensuring him that the line of Durin would survive; you were a means to an end. There was only one thing, which had a meaning for him in the end – the gold!"
Thorin inhaled a deep breath, but she shook her head and went on: "You told us yourself, that, even when the dragon forced the gates open, he thought of nothing else but the treasure and the Arkenstone! He did not think of his people or his kin! His mind was befogged by gold and treasure! He'd have died if you'd not have dragged him out!"
She lowered her gaze and spoke her mind, now where they were all on their own: "As long as I can remember, he never asked what happened to our mother, he never cared, his mind just set on more important items. I was still little, but I was neither blind nor deaf. With our mother gone, we were nothing more, but precious gems in the treasure chest of the line of Durin. And that was how we got treated. For twenty years!"
Frerin slowly nodded when he wrapped an arm round her shoulders. She leaned in on him and felt grateful for his closeness and the warmth of his embrace, while Thorin remained silent, torn between the urge to fulfil his duties and his wish to be able to agree to his sister's words.
He saw her through the eyes of the eldest brother and also through the eyes of the heir to Durin's throne. That was what he got raised for and he wasn't able to forget about it that easily.
Of course, he understood, what Dis just said, but first and foremost Thror had been the king. Wasn't it his first duty to be the one his kin could rely on? Wasn't it his first duty to be the father of his people? Why did his sister not understand?
Dis sounded bitter, but wasn't she much too young for this? Actually...?
"Father says, we shall mourn the king and then, when the time of mourning is over, we shall go to war. What for? Revenge, he says! Revenge! Only death will come upon us. Again! For twenty years all we got to hear was, that there must be a way to get back to Erebor, for twenty years all we got to hear was, that there must be a way to drive the dragon out. And now, as if Erebor would not be enough, the king decided, that, if not Erebor, we have to make a try to reclaim Moria!"
"But that is what the king's duty is. To forget about his own desires to build and defend a home for his people."
"Thorin, have a look around. We have a home now. Sure, these hills are not the mountain, they are not the mines, but they grant us shelter..."
"Home!" Thorin spat: "Home you name this? Brown wastelands, thatched farmhouses, begging for work? That is no home! Not to me!"
"What then? Would you rather see our people die, lacerated by a dragon, hacked into pieces by Orcs?"
"That would mean to die fighting, not to starve."
"Forgive me, brother, but this time Dis is right", Frerin said: "No one had to starve, since we settled here. I agree, this might not be a life for a proud dwarf lord, but those who followed Thror here trusted in him. Otherwise, they would have gone to the Iron Hills."
"They followed him to Dunland, 'cause they had the hope, that he would lead them to new halls. None of them knew that they'd have to stay here for twenty years..." Thorin lowered his gaze and added: "If the Elves would have come to help, we'd not be forced to beg for work, for food and shelter..."
"You still believe, none of this would have happened if the Elves would have sent warriors?" Dis frowned and cocked her head.
"They betrayed our alliance. They turned their back on us. They watched us die..."
"Don't you think, Thranduil had other reasons? Maybe he valued the lives of his people higher than gems and gold..."
Thorin shot her a glare: "What do you want to tell me?"
Dis raised her head and her gaze met his, as adamant as his, as strong as his: "It was not the greed and lust for gold of Thranduil, the Elvenking, which lured the dragon here. It was the greed and the lust for gold of the mountain king and it was not the first time. Thror should have known better! Have you forgotten all the tales he told us about the Grey Mountains?"
"I have not!" Thorin admitted reluctantly.
"And you know yourself" Frerin added: "that it was not Thranduil, who did not keep his word, when he came to Erebor. They had agreed about it: our jewellers would restore the broken gems he entrusted to us and he would agree to pay the price. Thorin, you know what happened. The Elvenking brought both – gifts and the payment. And Thror still denied the gems to him..."
"I know", Thorin grumbled.
They kept silent for a while, then, after listening to the silent sounds of the wind for several moments, Dis said in a low voice: "I miss him. The way he died...I know, we cannot leave it unanswered, but I'm afraid. Father will have war...and you'll have to follow his call as well..."
"Nah, little sister", Frerin pulled her in a hug: "We're not even at age. No one will force us to fight. Trust me! Father will need us to keep a watchful eye on you that you won't run away with the first handsome dwarf you come across." He kissed her cheek and tugged on her braid: "And now, don't be afraid. We'll always be here for you."
"You heard him", Thorin said: "we've always been there for each other. Don't think that will change that quickly. To me there will always be only one treasure."
"What would that be", Frerin pricked up his ears.
"My siblings..."
"I'll remind you of it brother, keep my oath..."
"When you'll be king one day..."
Thorin nodded, a smile upon his lips: "I'm neither my father nor my grandfather. I'll always be Thorin..."