Dís felt so tense she was out of breath after only taking a few steps. Her heart was pounding so frantically it hurt. Pressing her hand against her chest, she hoped it would calm her heart.
She was searching for reasons to explain the cuts in her legs, but the shameful truth was probably the best solution.
"I can't do this, Arwen," she panted after climbing a few more steps. She wanted to turn around and flee, but she couldn't. Because of her children, she was bound to this place.
"You will be all right," Arwen hushed. "You've been through worse."
She sighed. "I don't know what to tell him."
"Then you say nothing. I don't think father will ask for an explanation."
Dís wondered if that was true. If someone she knew was cutting his or her legs, her concern would grow too and she would definitely want to know what was going on.
"Did you consider to tell him?" Arwen asked.
Dís stood still abruptly. Suddenly the air seemed to be robbed of oxygen, making it impossible to answer.
"W-what?" she managed to stutter eventually.
"Maybe you feel less uncomfortable when you don't have to keep a secret from him anymore. I don't think father will treat you any different and I can imagine it will help you to act like yourself."
"This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard," Dís grumbled. "I don't want him to know."
"But why not?" Arwen asked confused.
Dís failed to formulate a good answer, but her whole body screamed "NO".
"Maybe you will understand once you've fallen in love yourself," she said after a while. "It's just something people like to keep to themselves."
Dís concentrated on ascending the stairs, wishing they would build a stairs for people of her size.
When she finally reached the top, she leaned on her knees and panted. Sweat gushed down her back and she was craving a bath. One more reason to stay away from Lord Elrond. He would already smell her when they were 30 feet apart.
"I will ask for Kíli and then I'm going home," she told Arwen.
The woman shook her head. "You have to rest first."
"I can do that at home too."
"You're such a hard head sometimes," the elf chuckled, linking her arm with Dís'. "If you create the impression that you can't stand my father, it is never going to work between you two."
"It's never going to work anyway."
With every moment passing by, Dís regretted sharing her secret with Arwen. She would probably pick up on every stuttering word that passed her lips.
"Please stop talking about it. Someone might hear you."
Arwen held her glance, then she nodded. "Of course."
Dís had the feeling she was dragging herself through a pool of mud. Every step she took exhausted her and she was afraid she would collapse before she would reach her destination.
The fear that something like that would really happen, increased while they moved on. Her hands felt clammy and she felt nauseous.
"I'm feeling faint," she muttered. "I - I think I should take a break."
Dís started to panic, feeling ashamed of her weakness. She was about to cry for the umpteenth time today.
"I will keep you on your feet," Arwen promised, holding Dís' arm. "We are almost there."
Dís chewed her lip, trying to fight back the tears. She felt so scared she was afraid her heart could stop any moment.
This wasn't healthy, she realized. This was more than infatuation alone.
There was something wrong with her body.
Arwen looked at her, yet she didn't say anything. Dís however knew her thoughts were following the same route. If she was really sick, it would be Lord Elrond who would examine her. A shiver crept down her spine.
Together they reached the door, which Arwen opened. They entered a living room she had never been in before. There was a spacious sitting area with velvet cushions, a low table next to it. Kíli was on his knees in front of it, playing with wooden dolls on the table top. Lord Elrond and Elrohir were sitting on the couch, both rising when they saw her.
Dís leaned against the door frame. The room seemed to spin around and she squeezed her eyes.
"I don't feel wel," she muttered. Dís squeezed Arwen's arm. "Please, carry me to the couch," she whispered. "I - I don't want him to do it."
Arwen looked briefly at the two men who were watching them hesitantly.
"Dís will stay here for a while," Arwen spoke. "She does not feel well."
After these words, Arwen lifted her and carried her to the couch.
"I will prepare a room," Elrohir said.
Dís could hear his footsteps leave.
"My father must examine you," Arwen insisted.
"No," Dís muttered. She didn't want him to take a closer look at her body. "I don't want it. I don't want him to touch me." She squeezed her eyes, she was hearing herself twice. She didn't know if Lord Elrond could hear her words and she didn't mind much either when a wave of vomit rushed into her throat, leaving a stinging sensation. "I don't want it."
Arwen laid her hand against her forehead. "I stay with you. You will be fine, Dís."
"Promise me," she whispered.
Arwen stroked her hair. "Apart from me, no one will touch you. I promise."
Dís' breathing slowed down and she drifted off.