Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I'm glad you're all enjoying it. A special thanks goes out to Amanda and Hermione Granger, to whom I could not directly reply, I'm glad you're both enjoying it.
Ah, so here it is, the long awaited reunion! I really, really, really hope that I've done your imaginations justice – this is the most nervous I've been about a chapter for months hahaha!
So please, forgive any mistakes I've made!
There's a little Khuzdul in this chapter that we haven't encountered before and it is as follows.
Madtith – little heart
Nan'ith – little sister
Nuddel – brother of all brothers
Read, enjoy, review!
Chapter Ninety Five # Not While I'm Around #
As the gates of Erebor opened before her, Dís' heart swooped down into her stomach. When she had last seen these walls she had been younger than Orla and Ola, and smaller Vinca, who was perched on her hip. She was home.
After all these years, all of that suffering, she was finally home.
Vague memories stirred in her mind of times long gone, and she sighed.
"Dís?" Vinca said, playing gently with Dís' braids. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, sweetheart," she murmured. "I'm just a little emotional…"
Dís smiled softly to herself as the little girl dropped her head onto the princess' shoulder. It was so beautiful, this city she could once again call home. Everyone stared at the group as they strode into the city, and she did not blame them. They were nobility of the highest rank, and recognisably so at that, not to mention the hobbits, man, skin-changers, wolves and elves amongst them.
"Dís! You're here!"
She grinned at the happy bellow of her cousin. "Good morning, Dain!"
He wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her into the air like a child, Vinca and all! The hobbit girl squeaked in surprise and fear and Dain plonked Dís back on her feet.
"Who's this little lass then?" he looked curiously at Vinca, who ducked behind Dís' hair.
"This is Pervinca Took," Dís introduced. "Vinca, this is my cousin Dain."
"Nice to meet you, Miss Took," Dain bowed, before grinning a devilish grin at Dís. "I got your message. You are a genius, cousin."
"Yes, well I've yet to see if it runs in the family," she said dryly.
Dain laughed his booming laugh. "Of course it does! I got the whole company locked away in their little room thinking you won't be here until tomorrow. Honestly, Dís, you don't think I'd miss a chance to see Thorin choke on air and Balin have heart palpitations all in the same day?"
She frowned. "I don't want to give Balin heart palpitations. He's most probably the only reason this city is not still a pile of rubble."
Dain laughed again. "Oh, I'm looking forward to this!"
"You always did enjoy watching people squirm."
"Thorin," he corrected. "I've always enjoyed watching Thorin squirm. Now, let's go, shall we? The lot of you must be exhausted."
Dís inclined her head and Dain's grin stretched further across his face. He held his hand out in a dramatic flourish.
"Please, my Lords and Ladies, follow me! Let's go and surprise your kin!"
They began moving once again, and as Dís' gaze drank in every inch of this place she could not decide if it was worth it.
There were so many memories here, so many ghosts, and seeing them brought her a peace she had not known she lacked. She felt so safe here, so secure and she felt closer to her fallen kin than she had in centuries.
Dís belonged here. She was a princess and this was her kingdom, her home. The histories of her kin, her bloodline were etched into the walls. It was the place she was supposed to grow up in and the home of the life her parents wanted for her.
But if it had taken the lives of her sons, her brother?
It would not have been worth it then.
These ghosts were invaluable to Dís, but they were not worth more than the lives of her living family, and she could not help but think of the families of those who had fallen in the Battle of the Five Armies. Did they think it worth it?
"Oh, wow!"
She looked over her shoulder at the whisper to see Frodo gazing up in wonder at a nearby statue. The littlest Baggins walked between Fíli and Kíli, holding both of their hands. Merry was holding Kíli's other hand, and his mouth was slack with awe. There were tears in Dana's eyes, and Bragi's fingers were slipping over every inch of stone that came within their reach. Nelly was sitting silently on Nori's shoulders, her face turned up at the ceiling.
They were safe now. They were home.
Yes. It was worth it.
"Oh…" Vinca breathed as they began to walk up the marble stairs towards the royal wing. "Dís, it's so pretty!"
Dís would have said something, but there was no breath in her lung.
Home. She was home.
Thorin tapped on his pipe and sat back in his seat, listening to Dori's account with his lips pursed tightly.
"… other than that I saw no danger and Jari assured me they would be fine alone so I asked Mikel to guard the door personally. They'll be safe for tonight."
The king nodded. Putting Orvar and Elin's family under Dori's protection was one of the best decisions he had made in the last few months – his late friends' children had been through hell, especially with Ari's little escapade with the traitors in the Old Armoury. Having such a mother hen to care for them was helping the young ones to heal and relax, and in return Dori had others to fuss over, distracting him from his grief for Nina and worry for Nori. That way gave space to Ori – though Dori's brother would likely submit to his brother's fussing without complaint it seemed so wrong now to see the one known as 'Dragonsbane' treated like a helpless dwarfling.
Speaking of Ori, Thorin glanced over to the corner chair that the lad had adopted for himself. Dwalin had taken him to get his first inking the other day – Dori's reaction had been spectacular to behold – and by all accounts it was healing well. Currently, the young scribe was curled up in his chair with a huge book, devouring its contents with the quiet intensity that had come to define him.
"After the arrests we made yesterday I'd like to think we have the last of the traitors in our custody, but we cannot be sure. That's been proven to us too many times," Balin said, his voice dark.
"Would that I could slay them all," his brother growled, banging one of his crutches against the tiled floor.
"Stop that, you coal-headed lump!" Óin swatted the warrior up the backside of the head on his way to his own seat. "If you break your crutches I won't be getting you any new ones!"
"If you don't leave me be I'll break them over your thick skull!"
"Enough," Thorin interrupted quietly. "That's enough."
"You should be ashamed of yourselves," Glóin spoke for the first time that evening, his voice hoarse. "Bickering like children when our… our…"
"They're alive, Glóin," Bombur reminded him gently. "We know that much-"
"Alive?" Glóin's voice cracked open, allowing his fear and grief to spill out for all to hear. "My son was taken by orcs and lost in Mirkwood for weeks! So he is alive – who's to say he isn't injured? Who's to say he hasn't lost an arm or a leg – who says he hasn't lost his mind? If it was your boy who had been taken, if Bofin or Bróin or Bodin were kidnapped would it be enough to know they were alive?"
The room fell silent, and Glóin put his face in his hands.
For the first time, Bifur spoke. "We will see them tomorrow. Until then, hold on."
Aye, Thorin thought. Hold on until tomorrow…
He would see his sister tomorrow. He would see his nephew – he would see if the light was still in Fíli's eyes.
The door swung open and Dain strode in, a wolfish grin on his face. "Hello, cousin. You'll never guess what I saw in the entrance hall this morning."
"No, I probably won't," he drawled.
"Beorn," Dain said smugly. "He strode right in here and-"
"Hello Adad!"
Thorin jumped out of his skin at the sound and his neck snapped around to look at a tiny, tiny toddler standing before Bombur, whose eyes were bulging out of his skull.
"Bodin?" the huge dwarf whispered, the colour draining from his face.
The boy's face fell. "Ada? Did… did you dust forget me?"
"No, no," Bombur choked, leaning forward to snatch the boy off of the floor. The child was smaller than one of Bombur's arms and he disappeared into his father's embrace. "Bodin, dashtith, what are you doing here?"
"Pies!"
Bombur frowned heavily. "I beg your pardon?"
"Bodin!" a young, frustrated voice preluded the entrance of a rusty-haired, grinning boy. "It's surprise, not pies!"
"Bróin?!" Bombur gasped, and the boy giggled, before tearing across the room and vaulting into his father's arms.
"Dain, what is going on?" Thorin said, rising from his chair.
"No!" Dain frowned. "Sit. I mean it Thorin. Sit."
Thorin glared, but held his tongue in front of the children. "Only to humour you, cousin dear."
Dain smiled as sweetly as a little girl. "Thank you!"
"Ada?" a little girl poked her head around the door.
"Orla!" Bombur choked, and then another head appeared. "Ola!"
Another child appeared at the door, greeted gleefully by his father as Bofin, and soon Bombur's lap was utterly full. A pretty ashen blonde woman appeared at the door, smiling tearfully at Bombur.
"Marta…" he whispered.
Thorin could not help but smile as the woman ran across the room with no pretence of decorum, planting a kiss on Bombur's forehead before he could stand and wrapping her arms around his neck.
"You're early," Bombur whispered.
"We had a little help," Marta stood up and wiped her eyes, bowing at Thorin before walking over to hug Bifur tightly.
"Adad!" the familiar tones of an excited Gimli brought a smile to Thorin's face as his young cousin appeared in the doorway.
The lad's father was out of his chair and at his son's side in a heartbeat, and the king beamed as Glóin seized his son, releasing him only to inspect his face.
"Are you alright, are you hurt?" he demanded in the gentle voice reserved only for his son, or other children.
"I'm fine," Gimli laughed, and his eyes were so bright that the relived king was inclined to agree. "Thanks to my new friends."
Relief flooded Thorin's mind. He had been afraid, very afraid for Gimli over the past few days, and it was good to see him alive and well.
"I'd like to meet them," Glóin nodded.
"Good," Gimli grinned.
"Just so you know," Dana announced her arrival with a disclaimer as she threw her arms around her husband. "I have no comment."
"What do you mean, no comm-"
"Estel, Legolas, come and meet my father!" Gimli called excitedly, though there was a trace of unease in his eyes.
Even as he stood up Thorin felt his jaw drop. The young man his nephews had met in Rivendell and the son of the Elvenking were walking into his Company Room. Thranduil's son?
"Nice to meet you, sir," the young man bowed.
To Thorin's shock, the elf bowed too, and deeply. "I believe we've already met."
"Friends?" Glóin choked. "Gimli… you… friends?"
"Yes, Adad," Gimli said, squeezing his father's wrist. His smile was still there, but it was less excited – this was important to Gimli. Even Thorin could see it. "Estel saved me from the orcs and Legolas saved us all from starving to death in Mirkwood. Then one thing led to another…"
"With your permission, I would take my leave now that I have seen you safely reunited with your father," Legolas bowed. "I have business in Dale, and I would take Tauriel, Glorfindel and Elrond's sons with me."
Thorin's surprise only grew as Gimli struggled – and failed – to hide his pout. "Really? Will you return for Durin's Day?"
"If we are invited, certainly," Legolas nodded, glancing at Thorin.
"Oh, I'm sure you will be," the lad sounded confident about that, but his eyes flickered nervously between his father, mother and Thorin.
"What about me?" Estel frowned lightly.
"That is your choice," said Dana. "If you wish to stay here we're more than happy to have you."
"Are we?" Glóin blinked.
"Of course," Dana slapped her husband on the chest. "Don't be so rude – this boy saved your son's life."
"I'd like to stay, but I think I will return to New Dale," Estel's grey eyes flickered over towards Thorin. "If it is possible, I would love to return for Durin's day."
Gimli turned and looked at Thorin, and the unease in his eyes grew into fear.
Thorin understood. Gimli may be a child, but he was far from impressionable. If he trusted these elves, this boy, it was with good reason. If Dain had let them into the mountain it was not a good reason – it was an extraordinary one. Besides, there were already delegations of elves and men invited to the celebrations, so it seemed pointless to turn away friends of his family.
"It would be an honour to have your company at Durin's Day," Thorin said, looking to the elves. "Master Legolas, the same goes for you and your aforementioned companions."
"Thank you," the boy grinned. "Thank you very much."
Legolas smiled. "You have my deepest gratitude. Farewell."
A chorus of goodbyes ranging from flabbergasted to friendly sounded around the room as the elf and young man left.
And then the door widened.
And in walked Dís and Fíli.
Thorin's heart stopped.
Oh Mahal, there was Fíli, Fíli was alive, alive, he was alive and alright – he was in one piece, he was walking on his own.
"Fíli…" Thorin swooped forward, and this time no word from Dain would stop him. "Dís!"
Uncaring of dignity or propriety, Thorin grabbed Fíli and held him close, letting his fingers sink through the back of Fíli's golden hair.
"Hello, Thorin," Fíli's voice cracked slightly but he was smiling and he hugged Thorin back with a strength that meant he could not be too badly injured. "It's good to see you."
"Fíli," Thorin murmured, and he had to speak the truth, he had to or he would break. "Fíli… I missed you."
Fíli's embrace strengthened. "I missed you too, Uncle."
Thorin pulled away to put his hand on Fíli's face, but when his fingers touched his nephew's braid Fíli flinched. Without hesitation, Thorin pulled his hand away and Fíli lowered his eyes. "Are you alright? Fíli, are you hurt?"
"I am well," Fíli said with a small smile. "The elves are good healers, they found us just in time."
"Thank Mahal…" Thorin murmured, before turning to the beautiful, beautiful woman smiling at the exchange. "Hello, Dís. You're early…"
She raised her eyebrows. "Is that a complaint?"
"Of course not," he put his hand on his sister's face and pressed his forehead against hers. "Dís… I've missed you, nan'ith. It is so good to see you."
"I've missed you, too," she whispered, kissing his cheek and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Thorin reached around to return his sister's embrace, but then his hands hit a mass of curly hair that made an odd noise.
"Ow!"
Thorin snatched his hand back, his eyes widening as a tiny little face peeked around his sister's back.
"Hello, Mister Thorin," the girl said shyly, before hiding behind Dís once more.
A hobbit? A hobbit child, no less? Why was there a hobbit child on his sister's back?
Could it… could it mean that…?
"Come now, Thorin," chided his sister. "Where are your manners?"
Clearing his throat, Thorin nodded. "Hello, Miss Took."
The little head reappeared, and big green eyes looked curiously at Thorin. "You 'membered me?"
"Of course," Thorin bowed his head, though he had no idea which of the Took girls she was. The littlest one perhaps? "Though I did not expect to see you here."
She nodded wisely. "Dís said that you didn't know we were coming."
"Did she now?" Thorin stared at his sister, but apparently his look scared the little lass, who hid behind the princess and tightened her grip around Dís' neck.
"Vinca, uzbadnâtha, I know my big brother's rather scary but I'm finding it hard to breathe."
Vinca… Pervinca, that was it – she was the youngest of Paladin's children. Thorin remembered now. Wait – did Dís just call her princess in Khuzdul?
"I'm sorry, Dís."
"Auntie Dís?"
Thorin's heart stuttered at the name – there was only one person he knew who called Dís 'Auntie', but Gimli was not talking.
No, the speaker was a little hobbit with blue eyes and dark hair – this one was Frodo! He had been the one to attack Thorin all those months ago.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Was Kíli here? Had he come back, were these hobbits there because Kíli was there with them?
"Is this the Company Room?"
"It is indeed. What do you think?"
"It's really nice," he smiled, and then he looked shyly up at Thorin. "I'm very sorry for tackling you."
"It's quite alright," Thorin stammered, because if nothing else his mother had taught him manners. He looked wildly at Dís, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he was half worried it would burst out.
A young, unfamiliar voice called out gleefully. "Onwards Nori! To the king!"
Nori strode into the room, looking up quizzically at the girl sat on his shoulders. "To the king? You don't even know the king, Nelly."
She shrugged. "That's why you're a rubbish storyteller. No imagination."
"Nori!" Dori cried, and within moments the thief was being bombarded by his brothers who both tried to hug him at once with absolutely no regard for the precariously perched hobbit.
Nelly hung on to Nori's hair for dear life. "Nori! Stop wiggling – I'm going to fall off! Nori!"
"Ow!" Nori held his hands up, trying to loosen her grip. "Alright, alright, I've stopped wobbling! Ouch! Damn it, Nelly, if you don't let go of my hair I'll fling you off the side of the mountain."
"Oh yeah? How're you going to do that when you can't even get me off of your hair?"
"Nelly," a gentle voice hobbit woman walked into the room with a sleepy looking toddler on her hip. "Please."
Rolling her eyes, the little girl huffed and put her elbows on Nori's head, resting her chin in her hands.
The woman smiled wryly and looked at Dís, but then her smile faltered. She shifted the boy on her hip and looked at Thorin.
"Dís… don't you think it's a little harsh…"
"Mama!" little Nelly cried indignantly. "Don't ruin it!"
"It's alright, Nelly," said a familiar voice.
Thorin's heart turned cartwheels in his stomach.
And then the sheepishly smiling owner of the voice peered around the door. "I think he's suffered more than enough."
"Kíli?" Thorin's voice was barely a whisper.
It did not register that his sister and Dain had planned this – that they were dragging it out to make him suffer.
Kíli was there.
Kíli came home.
"Kíli," he said again, and then he grabbed his nephew and pulled him into a hug. "Kíli?"
The lad laughed lightly, melting into Thorin's embrace. "I love you Thorin."
"I love you too," Thorin whispered, and this time it was easy to say, because he had thought that it would be decades before he got to say it again. "I did not think… I thought…"
"I know," Kíli pulled away, grinning through tears. "But we're here. I brought a few friends home, I hope you don't mind…"
"Not at all," Thorin shook his head. "Not at…"
The king trailed off as Bilbo led no less than six more hobbits into the room – three adults and three children.
To say that Thorin was shocked was an understatement. He could feel it painted all over his face but there was no way he could hide it. Hobbits? Eleven hobbits – Bilbo not included? How many must it be to count as an invasion?
However, if this was the price of Kíli's return, Thorin would gladly allow a thousand hobbits into his mountain.
Dís smiled as Thorin regained his composure and shook Bilbo's hand, pulling the hobbit into a warm hug. "Hello, Master Baggins."
"Hello, Thorin," Bilbo smiled. "I will tell you now that it was not my idea to surprise you like this. It was your cousin and sister who wanted to 'watch you squirm', in Dain's words."
"That does not surprise me at all," Thorin said dryly.
"Well, thank you for throwing us under the carriage like that," huffed Dain. "Some friend you turned out to be."
"Dain," Dís raised her eyebrows.
The dwarf grinned and mimed sewing his lips shut, looking pointedly at Thorin. Dís sighed at her cousin. "You aren't going to let me speak to him in private, are you?"
He shook his head. "No. I'm your own personal shadow until you clear your mind."
Dís sighed. Ah, well. Now was as good a time as ever.
"Vinca," she murmured, quietly enough that no one else would hear.
"Mm-hm?"
"I'm about to yell very angrily and very loudly at my idiot brother. I want to make sure that you won't be scared."
"I won't," Vinca promised. "Just… just don't be angry with me?"
"Of course not," Dís frowned, reaching up to squeeze the girl's hand, before turning back to her brother. "Thorin."
"Yes, Dís?" He knew what was coming. She could see it in his eyes.
In fact, everyone seemed to know what was coming. The room fell silent, and Kíli and Bilbo shuffled over to stand by Fíli, leaving Thorin alone at the other end of the room.
"What in Mahal's name did you think you were doing?"
"In what instance?"
Dís' teeth clenched together. "Oh, how about the instance where you found my son and sent me a letter telling me you'd taken him on a quest I specifically asked you not to take Fíli on because I believed he was too inexperienced for a journey that our father disappeared on, despite the fact that Kíli had next to no experience himself and I had not seen him in twenty years?"
Thorin's face was twisted in pain. "I did not want to separate them-"
"You could have left them in the Shire! You could have sent them back to me-"
"I'd lost him too, Dís! I could not bear the thought of losing him again, so I acted selfishly!" Thorin cried, his face as red as the rubies embedded in the wall outside. "I was rash and selfish, but I thought I could protect them and I had no right to deny either of your sons the right to reclaim what was their birth-right!"
The aforementioned sons no longer looked entertained by the situation – they instead seemed to be trying to shrink into the back wall. The only ones who still looked entertained were Dain, Dwalin (wait, was he on crutches?) and Balin, though the latter's smile was more of a wry I-told-you-so smile compared to Dain and Dwalin's regaled grins.
"Alright," Dís' voice was as hard as stone. "Say that I can see why you made that choice, say that I understand. How the hell did you fall to the Gold Sickness? You watched our grandfather succumb, if I am old enough to recall the signs you most definitely are! How did you not see it, how did you send my sons into battle when you know what it does to those unprepared for it? How could you do that after what happened to Frerin?"
Thorin swallowed, and Dís could tell that he was holding back tears. He was disguising it well, of course, but she could tell. "Dís, I ask myself that every day. Every damned day."
Her brother was in pain, and he was sorry, but Dís was not done yet. "That's not even mentioning how you banished Bilbo and threatened to banish Kíli! My son, Thorin, you threatened to banish my son! And Bilbo, after everything, everything he's done for us, after how selflessly he's looked after Kíli – you nearly got him killed! You let my sons, my only children fight in a battle and you let them get hurt, Fíli and Bilbo almost died."
"Do you think I don't know that?" Thorin's yell was so full of heartbreak that Dís' eyes filled with tears. "Do you think my sins do not pass through my mind every single day? Do you think that a single day has passed when I have not woken up with the sound of screaming in my ears and the image of those I love the most lying in a pool of blood seared onto my brain? I live with it every single day, Dís. Every damned day…"
Dís felt a tear escape her eye and slid down her cheek but she did not lift a finger to stop it. The pain and regret on brother's face was so deep, so sincere.
And despite what Dain said, Dís did not want to hurt her brother.
"I know…"
Thorin stared at her, his eyes studying hers intently. "You know…"
She bowed her head. "I know."
He closed his eyes. "Dís, I am sorry."
The softest trace of a smile slipped across Dís' face. "I know."
And that was all to say. There would be more words shared later, perhaps, in a more private setting, but for now that was all Dís needed.
Apparently, it was not enough for Dain.
"Don't tell me he gets off that easily!"
She narrowed her eyes at her cousin. "Unlike you, I don't enjoy watching my brother suffer."
"That's such a shame," Dain mourned.
"Dís," Thorin began in a pained voice.
"No, truly, Thorin," she interrupted. "I am too tired to hold onto such anger. It is done. The past is now in the past and all we can do is move forward. What matters now is where we go from here. Though I swear to Mahal himself that if you ever do anything that stupid again I will beat you to within an inch of your life and put Fíli on the throne in your place."
"Oh, Mahal!" cried Nori in mock fear. "Don't let that happen Thorin!"
"Hey!" Kíli frowned on his brother's behalf. "Fee would make a great king."
"Aye, but with your brother in the throne you'd have free reign and we'd all be doomed."
"Alright!" Bilbo held his hands up as half of the children opened their mouths to chip in. "Alright, that's enough. Has everyone vented their anger successfully? Are there any more hatchets to bury? No? Good. Now, more importantly, is there any chance of getting some food into these children? It's past their tea time and they'll be growing irritated soon."
"It's called 'hangry', Uncle Bilbo," said Frodo wisely. "When you got angry because you're hungry."
"Of course," Thorin nodded, calling to the guard on the door. "Kyrri, send word to the kitchens, have them bring up a feast for… at least three dozen people."
"Of course, my Lord."
"It will be here within the hour," Thorin promised. "In the meantime, if the children are hungry…"
Dís watched her brother stride over to a hidden alcove and retrieve a large jar.
"I may have some biscuits to spare…"
She smiled, lowering Vinca to the floor as the little hobbits and dwarflings scampered to surround Thorin like a pack of excited dogs, each of them standing up straighter than the other to try and win favour – and the first bit of food.
As if the thought of dogs had conjured them their trusty wolves loped into the room behind Beorn.
"Forgive my intrusion," said the skin-changer, ignoring the startled looks of Thorin and the others. "I am going to take my leave now."
"Thank you, Beorn, thank you for everything," Dís said. "But won't you at least stay for some supper?"
"I thank you, but no. I have things to do. However, if fate would smile upon it I shall return before winter is at its darkest. I have only one thing to ask of you."
"Name it," Dís insisted, speaking for them all.
"My wolves. They have grown very fond of your company. Would you allow them to stay here?"
"Stay here?" Thorin's eyes widened. "I don't think that would be-"
"But Uncle Thorin!" Kíli gasped in dismay, wrapping his arms around Luno's neck and mirroring the wolf's puppy dog eyes. "They're our friends, they're lovely!"
"Oh, please let them stay!" Frodo cried, grabbing onto Kenai's leg.
"Please!" Bróin and Nelly chimed in.
"Please, please, please can they stay with us!" added Merry, pushing his cheek against Lani's long fur.
And then every child in the room sang out at once – Gimli, Fíli, Kíli, Saradoc, Paladin, and Esme included.
"Please!"
"I have no issue with it," Dís nodded, looking pointedly at her brother.
Thorin looked at the nearest wolf, Koda, who was brushing his head against Bragi's chest while the dwarf stroked the wolf's ears and smiled serenely at the king. "Well, I suppose … I see no reason why they cannot, as long as they will not hurt anyone."
"They will attack only on command, unless they see real danger," Beorn promised, a crooked smile passing over his face. "Just like their smaller 'domesticated' kin."
Soon enough, Beorn too was gone, and that was when Glóin chose to comment.
"Tell me, Gimli. What on earth possessed you to befriend Thranduil's spawn, of all elves?"
Gimli shrugged. "He did save me and Pippin and Estel from starving to death when we escaped the orcs and ran blindly thought Mirkwood. I didn't trust him, really I didn't, but he… he was nice. He respected us, our kin, he said that he was sorry for the misunderstandings of the past and… We would've died without him. We would've died, Adad."
Glóin paused, his thoughts waging war across his face. "Still…"
Dana snorted. "Oh, lighten up, Glóin, Legolas isn't too bad. Besides, it's not as if he wants to marry an elf!"
"No, that would be Bróin." Orla sang.
"What?!" the boy in question gasped.
Ola giggled. "You're in love with Tauriel!"
"I am not!" he cried.
"Are so!"
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
"Am not!" Bróin snatched the closest twin into a headlock.
"Bróin!" Marta warned.
"But Amad, we're in Erebor!" he protested. "And she started it!"
"Bróin, let your sister go. Orla, Ola, don't tease your brother." Bombur said gently.
"Alright, Adad," the trio chimed, and Orla ran forward to pull herself up onto her father's lap.
"I missed you!" she sniffed.
"I missed you too," Bombur murmured, stroking her hair. "So much, nâtha, so much."
Dís felt a small weight leaning into her leg and she glanced down. "Hello, Frodo."
He looked up and smiled. "Did I do it right, Auntie Dís? Surprising Mister Thorin?"
"You did brilliantly," she ruffled the boy's hair fondly. He shifted on his feet and she frowned. "Frodo, what's wrong?"
"Can… can you pick me up?"
"Of course!" she scooped him off the floor easily – the little hobbits weighed next to nothing. "Are you alright, mizimith?"
"I miss Mama and Papa," he sighed, dropping his head onto her shoulder.
"Oh, Frodo, I'm sorry," she pressed a kiss onto the boy's curls. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"
He shrugged slightly. "Can I… can I just stay here with you for a while?"
"Frodo, madtith, you do not have to ask. You can be my little shadow all evening, if that's what you wish," she murmured.
He sniffed. "Promise?"
"I promise," she nodded.
Frodo smiled a little, curling his little fingers around her coat. "Thank you. Auntie Dís?"
"Yes?"
"They can't get us here, can they? The baddies?"
The boy's tiny voice made her heart ache. "Frodo, sweetheart, no one's going to hurt you, not while I'm around."
"Thank you," Frodo whispered.
"Anytime." Dís kissed his forehead once more. "Now, do you mind if we go and see Mister Dwalin?"
Frodo shook his head, but he did not say anything.
"You'll struggle with that, lass."
Dís turned, smiling when her eyes fell upon the eldest of her cousins. "Balin! It is good to see you. And why would that be?"
"He's gone to fetch someone, someone that he'd like you to meet," Balin's eyes were twinkling and Dís narrowed her eyes.
"Alright then, you keep your secrets… Mizimith, this is my cousin, Balin. Balin, I'd like you to meet Frodo Baggins."
The dwarf smiled and bowed. "At your service, Master Baggins."
"Please to meet you," Frodo replied sweetly.
Balin's smile grew. "So, who do you belong to then?"
"Bilbo," Dís said quickly. "Frodo's parents passed away last winter."
"Oh, lad, I'm sorry," Balin's face fell as quickly as it had lightened.
"It's fine," Frodo said, his grip on Dís tightening. "It makes me sad sometimes and it's making me a little bit sad now but it's going to be alright because the nasty dwarves have been all tied up and they can't hurt anyone anymore. And I have Uncle Bilbo and Auntie Dís and Kíli and Fíli and all my cousins and aunties and uncles and it's not too bad. They look after me."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," the dwarf replied sombrely.
After a long moment Frodo broke the silence. "Please Mister Balin, don't be sad. It's not your fault that you said that, you didn't know. And everyone else has parents, except Sam. His Mama died when the bad dwarves attacked the Shire and his Papa let him come with us because he's my best friend."
"Frodo…"
"Well, he might have kind of maybe run away," Frodo admitted. "But his Papa said that if he did run away he could stay with us!"
"The Shire was attacked?" Balin looked aghast.
Dís nodded darkly. "We have much to catch up on. On that note, what happened to Dwalin's leg?"
"We've had a couple of little problems with traitors. We arrested a group of them two days ago, in fact. As far as we're aware that's all of them, but we'll have to wait and see – it will be good to have Nori back to sniff around the way he does… In any case, Dwalin fell prey to a plot by a group of the devils and fell into one of the Traitor Traps. Ironically it was the traitors that put him there… He broke his leg, rather badly, and was bed bound for more than a month. You must have heard him complaining from the Shire."
Dís snorted. "Was that what all that racket was?"
A smile finally broke across Balin's face. "Either that or Dain's laughter when he heard about it."
"A word to the wise, Frodo," Dís grinned. "When my male relatives are in a boisterous mood, stay away."
The boy frowned. "What does boisterous mean?"
"It means rowdy, or overexcited," supplied Balin.
"Oh… Like when Kíli and Fíli and Uncle Paladin and Uncle Saradoc and Auntie Esme when they drink lots of ale?"
"Exactly like that," Dís nodded.
"Auntie Ellie doesn't get boisterous," Frodo mused, wrapping his tongue around the rather complicated new word. "She just gets giggly and falls down a lot. But she doesn't drink as much. She doesn't like not having control of her feet, that's what she says. But no, I won't get in the way of your boisterous family, Auntie Dís. I think it might be a bit scary to be caught in the middle."
"No," Dís interrupted gently. "You don't need to be scared of anyone here – take a good look around, Frodo. There is no one in this room that you need to fear. I promise."
Frodo peeked over her shoulder. "What about your cousin Dain?"
"Especially not him," Dís snorted. "He loves to tease and torment his family, but he'll be the first person in line to defend you from harm, Frodo."
"And if he isn't first in line he'll push whoever's there out of the way," Balin smiled. "We're a rough lot, Master Baggins, but you don't need to worry. You're family, and there is nothing we dwarves cherish so strongly."
"I am?" Frodo looked to Dís.
"Of course," she stared back at him. "We are family, are we not?"
"Well… yes, but-"
"This is my family, so it is also your family. And as long as we're around you are as safe as can be."
Around half an hour later a serving maid appeared at the door, announcing that dinner was served. The group moved from the Company Room to the royal dining room, and Dís smiled as Frodo's jaw dropped.
It was not the room that had gained the hobbits' attention – while it was beautiful it was not as lavish as the rooms in which the royals would dine with visiting dignitaries or resident nobles. This room was a more intimate family room for the ruling family, and it was far simpler.
No, it was the food that had Frodo gaping like a fish. Thorin had not been joking when he asked for a feast. Dís stood by the door for a moment, allowing the wonderful smells to fill her nose. Then she looked at Frodo.
"So, would you like to sit by me, or Uncle Bilbo?"
"Both… both is good!" Frodo's eyes did not move from the food.
As it transpired, they did end up next to Bilbo and almost opposite Fíli and Kíli, who were sitting next to Thorin who was in the chair at the head of the table. The two seats between Thorin and Dís, the seats that were directly opposite her sons, were saved for Dwalin and his mystery guest.
Just as Dís put the first chicken leg onto Frodo's plate, Dwalin limped through the door with a beautiful brunette on his arm. Quiet fell and the girl blushed slightly, but Dwalin just grinned.
"Everyone, I'd like to present Elza, daughter of Aisa. My betrothed."
Dís' own jaw dropped open as unceremoniously as her brother's had. Betrothed? Dwalin was engaged?
"Congratulations!" Bilbo and Bofur cried happily.
"You poor lass," Nori shook his head. "You poor, misguided lass – trust me, Elza, whatever he's bribed you with, it's not worth it."
"Nori!" Nelly protested before Dwalin could open his mouth, hitting the dwarf on the hand with her spoon. "Don't be so rude!"
"Nelly…" her parents spoke in practised harmony.
"What?! He's the one being rude!"
"Yeah, he's the one being rude!" Nori added.
She raised her tiny eyebrows at him. "Shh, Nori, we're talking about you, not to you."
Dwalin roared with laughter. "Oh, I like you, lassie!"
"Thank you," Nelly smiled cheekily.
Utilising the distraction, Dís raised her eyebrows at her brother and leant towards him. "Engaged?"
He shrugged, replying quietly. "Well, she is a lovely lass. She's a friend of Ori, all of the company have approved of her – I've approved of her."
"Yes, well I may have forgiven you but that doesn't mean I trust your judgement!" she hissed.
"She's looking!" Frodo whispered, and Dís could not help but smile.
"Thank you!" she whispered, sitting up straight in time to smile at Dwalin and Elza. "So, tell me, Dwalin, why was this not the first thing you told me when we walked into the room?"
"You'd given me the surprise of the century; I thought it only fair if I returned the favour. Dís, this is Elza. Elza, Dís."
"It's lovely to meet you," the princess smiled.
"And I am honoured to meet you, my lady," Elza curtseyed deeply before she sat down.
"Oh, hush," Dís waved her hand. "Loose the formalities – if we are to be family you should call me by my first name."
"Alright, Dís," Elza smiled, turning to make sure that Dwalin got down into his seat properly.
"So, Elza, tell me about yourself," Dís began to fill her own plate. "Where do you hail from?"
"The Iron Hills," Elza replied, dishing up her own food. "And to be perfectly honest there isn't much to tell."
"Oh, I'm sure you're just being modest," Dís said, waiting to have her ear talked off about the long line of merchants or lords that this woman came from. "What do your family do, then?"
Elza blushed lightly. "Oh… anything and everything we can, really. My brothers are guards and miners by trade but there wasn't always work in the mines and we'd do whatever we could to get by."
Dís stopped in her tracks. "You're not a noble?"
Thorin and Dwalin both choked. "Dís!"
Elza's blush strengthened. "No… Quite… quite the opposite really…"
"Oh, thank the Valar!" Dís sighed in relief. "I thought I was going to have to chase some pompous, tight-assed title-hunting tart away from my cousin."
"Dís!" Bilbo choked from the other side as Elza turned the colour of Frodo's red waistcoat and Thorin and Dwalin froze in their tracks.
Dís glanced down at Frodo. The boy was staring at her with wide eyes, holding his spoon in his mouth. "Oh, sorry Frodo!"
The boy swallowed his mouthful and smiled. "That's alright Auntie Dís. But Miss Elza seems really nice to me, not pompous and tight-ass-"
"Frodo Baggins!"
Frodo cringed into Dís. "Sorry, Uncle Bilbo!"
"Don't use those words, Frodo," Dís poked his leg gently, and then added in a stage whisper. "At least not in front of your uncle!"
"Not in front of anyone," Bilbo glared at Dís, but there was a sparkle in his eyes.
"Sorry Uncle Bilbo!"
Bilbo nodded once.
Dís grinned to herself and took the first bite of home-cooked, dwarvish food she had had in months. The princess was no naturally a judgemental person, nor did she ever form an opinion of someone without having a good idea of their personality.
However, family was family, and it would not be the first time that a young dwarf man or woman wooed a high-ranking royal in an attempt to elevate their own status or wealth. In fact, Dís' own father had fallen to a predatory minor lady who had broken his heart when Fundin heard her gossiping about how easy it was to string the young prince along. It was a cautionary tale she had heard many a time on her father's knee – dwarves may only have one soulmate, but they could fall in love more than once. He described it as a different kind of love, one that you could only know when you felt it.
"You may well fall in love more than once, my little uzbadnâtha, but if you find your One after your heart has been broken that does not mean your love was not real to begin with."
She had been thinking about her father's words a lot recently. It hurt her heart to even think about it, but she could not tell whether Finn had been her One. Their love had been real and strong, and Dís had no doubt of it. But was he her soulmate?
And if he was not, if there was someone else, would he ever forgive her if he acted on her feelings?
Beside her Frodo sneezed, reminding Dís that this was not about her. This was about Dwalin.
If Elza wanted to honey-trap Dwalin she would have to go through Dís first.
To her immense gratitude, though, dinner went well. Any initial awkwardness was quick to be brushed away by the relief and sense of security shared by the whole room, and the food and the children were both good ice-breakers.
The recent travellers gave those in Erebor a brief but detailed summary of what had happened from Kíli's kidnapping at Beorn's house all the way up to their arrival a few hours earlier. Dís' had thought that it would be better to speak of such dark dealings when the children were no present, but when she saw the pained clench of Dwalin's jaw and Thorin's restrained, stormy eyes, she thought that maybe the little ones' presence was helping her hurting kinsmen keep their tempers, and that was certainly not a bad thing.
By the time they were finished the maids had already cleared away the dishes and their tea and coffee cups were sitting cold and untouched before them.
"Perhaps it would be wise to find housing for everyone?" Balin suggested with a smile. "Had we known how many of you were coming we would have had things already prepared, of course."
"Don't worry about it," Saradoc smiled. "If you show up as a surprise guest you have no right to moan about a lack of accommodation."
"Obviously Marta and Dana will join Bombur and Glóin-"
"And us!" Bróin interrupted Bofur with a frown, holding onto his father's wrist tightly. "We'll be staying with Ada too, thank you very much!"
Bofur slapped his nephew lightly and grinned. "Yes, well, that was implied."
Bróin's frown deepened. "What does that mean?"
"It means of course you're staying with your parents! You won't be staying with me! However, on that note, Sam will be, if that's alright."
Dís looked up in surprise. She had expected that Sam would live with Bilbo and Frodo. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," Bofur waved a hand. "It's no trouble."
"Alright then," Dís nodded, looking to her brother. "So Bofur, Nori, Kíli and Bilbo will return to where they were before, Frodo will stay with Bilbo. We need a place for the Tooks, a place for the Brandybucks, a place for Soren, a place for Alfr and a place for Bragi."
"The trio of young troublemakers down there'll be easy to house," Balin said with a twinkle in his eye. "It may take us a little while to find suitable housing big enough for all of you, but we'll see it done."
"Thank you, truly," Esme said.
"You're very welcome, lassie, we're happy to have you," replied Balin.
Small fingers tugged at Dís' clothes as Frodo pulled himself into her lap. She smiled and combed her fingers through his curls.
"Are you alright, madtith?"
He nodded, leaning back against her. "Just tired."
"Well, tonight you'll be able to sleep in a nice, comfy bed in your own room," Dís murmured. "We're home, sweetheart. We're home…"
Phew – that was a mammoth chapter!
Coming up – Nori finds out about the loss of his mother-type figure Nina, we FINALLY see how poor old Paladin's doing, and Dwalin talks to Dís, Fíli and Kíli – I haven't forgotten I just couldn't squeeze them in!
Thanks for reading, please, please, please let me know if this chapter was okay if you have a spare five minutes and the inclination to do so! Thank you!
