. . .

DÍS

. . .

Days turned into weeks. Dís couldn't say that she was getting used to this life, as the continuous traveling, the few moments of rest and the underlying sadness made her tired. The only advantage was that she fell asleep like a baby at night and forgot the pain a while, although it returned as soon as the sun rose and Thorin woke her.

Dís knew she had to restrain the sadness, so she wouldn't lose sight of reality. Her children needed her, but sometimes it was terribly tempting to relive her memories with Famin, to feel his arms around her and to hear his voice again.

But before she realized it, the tears already rolled down her cheeks and she saw his lifeless face again. It was as if someone threw a mourning robe over her shoulders, and she could do nothing but sobbing uncontrollably while her children watched her with trembling lips. But that was not what caused the most pain. That was her brother, who turned away his face and sighed inaudibly. He believed she was weak. He never said it, but she read it in his eyes. He thought she had to get over the death of her beloved, as he had done.

"'Focus on the children," he simply said. "Rejoice the fact that they are still alive."

It was not enough. As much as she loved her children, they did not fill the gaping hole. Kíli had the dark eyes of his father. Fíli's blonde hair reminded her of the man she missed so much and she would never see again.

She did not know how to move on. The light in her eyes was extinguished and she had no idea how to set it on fire again. She couldn't imagine she would ever feel better. Thorin still had no idea where they were going. He said they would find something, but she couldn't figure out where. The towns of men were far away and there were hundreds of orcs that kept them at a distance. Furthermore the towns of men were not safe enough. They had no towering walls that hindered Azog. They were just an invitation to be burned.

"Here is an inn." Thorin sent his horse into a turn and there was a wooden gate. Very slowly they rode inside. There were several people around, both of small and tall seize and Dís suspected they wouldn't attract attention.

"Where are we?" Dís wanted to know.

"In Bree."

"Is it safe here?"

Thorin put his hand on hers and released her fingers around the reins, which she had squeezed unconsciously in pronouncing the last words.

"We will be save tonight."

They brought their horses into a stall. Thorin paid the groom and then took them to an inn. He whispered his name, received a key and lifted up Kíli.

Without saying a word Dís followed her brother upstairs while Fíli stumbled up behind her.

A moment later, she sank down on a wide bed. It was made for humans, but they could easily sleep on it together. She stared blankly at her hands, which were grazed by pulling the reins over and over again.

"This is nice for a night, right?"

Thorin looked at her and Dís nodded almost imperceptibly. It should indeed fulfill her with joy that she didn't have to sleep on the ground for the first time they'd left the Blue Mountains, but she still felt empty.

"I will ask if we can eat something."

Dís heard the door fall into the lock and she looked beside her on the bed. Kíli had crawled to his brother and had fallen asleep. Fíli stroked his hair and put his finger to his mouth when he caught the eye of his mother. "Shh."

A hint of a smile appeared on her face and she took her boys in her arms. She hid her face in Fíli's hair and inhaled his scent, a mix of conifers and sweat. Like his father, who always had wandered more through the woods than was usual for a dwarf. She wondered whether that would be the same for her sons. Would they be as strong as he was? She hoped. She hoped they would not become as weak as her.

. . .

THORIN

. . .

Thorin led his sister and nephews to the corner of the room. It was a little away from the other tables and although the shadows received them, he still had the feeling there was a spotlight on his head. Would Azog already have sent out his men? Did they knew he had fled, together with what remained of his family?

Softly he made an order to a boy who was barely taller than himself. He ordered a jug of water and four plates of food.

When the waiter walked away, he turned his attention to Dís. She stared at the tabletop. Her expression was exactly the same as the moment she'd seen her husband disappear beneath the ground.

"Mom, can I braid your hair?"

Thorin looked gratefully at Fíli. Sometimes it seemed as if he sensed what was going on. As if he knew his mother was deeply introverted and he wanted to lure her to show herself again.
It had effect, because a rare smile appeared on her face and she moved a little to the side, so that Fíli could climb on her chair. His hands slid through her dark hair, where he picked up the strands.

Thorin was moved by his young nephew, but the harsh reality that Fíli's own father would never see this, did freeze the smile on his face. He thought of his own brother, who hadn't even found a woman to share a life with. He'd always been alone and Thorin wondered if the same fate was waiting for him. Being with a woman was not common among dwarfs, only because there were few dwarf women. He considered Fíli and Kíli more or less as his own children, especially now their father was dead. Yet, although he was very fond of Dís, she was still his sister. Some things you just shared with your life partner and since neither of them had one now, he did not know what toll it would require.

Thorin nodded when the food was served. He shoved Kíli's plate to himself to cut the meat into pieces. The boy followed his movements with big eyes, as if he wanted to remember everything.

"Why is there no place for daddy?" Kíli asked suddenly. "Is he again not eating with us tonight?"

Thorin saw Dís lowered her glance. It was not the first time her son made a comment like this and it would not be the last time. After all, he was too young to understand all this.

"Daddy is far away from here," Thorin said. He grabbed the hand of the boy and pushed it against his chest. "But remember that he is always here. He knows exactly what is happening to us and he will try to help us."

"How?" Fíli asked, who again had slipped on his own chair. Although there was a sad look in his eyes, he was obviously very curious.

"That's a secret only fathers know," he winked. "But if you need him, he will be there for you. Your father might not be with you, but he is in you."

Fíli smiled and began to cut his food.

"Should we not keep some food for him?" Kíli asked confused.

"He is in your heart," Thorin repeated, "so you must eat extra food for him."

The boy nodded solemnly and then leaned over his plate. A hint of a smile touched Thorin's lips as he thought of his own father. However he had believed his own words; he himself did not feel the presence of his father and he retained the feeling that he was on his own. He could only hope that the credulity of children would exclude the worst grief.

. . .

DÍS

. . .

For three days they stayed in Bree, until Thorin decided it was time to go. Dís had spent most of the time in bed, but she still felt tired. She wanted to return to the Blue Mountains. Back to the home she'd shared with her husband, so there was at least something tangible. So she could curl up under the blankets in which they'd slept together and that still held his scent.

She knew she had to pay more attention to her children, but she just couldn't. It was as if she was in a glass container, which was filled with water, with hundreds of dwarfs around it. She screamed and cried, but none of them could hear her, while the water choked her.

Something invisible hindered the contact with her boys. The things she wanted to say to them, got stuck in her throat and the words they said to her, were not processed by her brain.

"Maybe you should go without me," Dís whispered desperate when Thorin stood in the doorway, looking at her.

"Why?" Fíli asked in shock.

The colour disappeared from Dís' face. She hadn't seen that her son had climbed on the back of her brother.

Thorin whispered something to him, and he nodded and walked away. Then he closed the door and stepped towards her.

"You cannot say such things, Dís!" Thorin sighed indignantly. "Your sons have already lost their father! The don't need a mother who gives up!"

Dís knew those words should hurt her, but she felt nothing. Nothing. "I feel so empty," she whispered. 'So - dead. "

Thorin sat down beside her and grabbed her hand, but she could not feel his warmth. "It will get easier, Dís. The pain will become less. "

"But I feel no pain," she murmured, staring at the ground. "I feel nothing at all. And that scares me to death."

Thorin looked silently at her for a while. "You have to get a grip on yourself again."

"You think I haven't tried?" she murmured. "I just can't. I just want... to die."

"Don't say that."

Tears appeared in his eyes. Her words broke his heart, but his tears faded at the litters she'd shed herself.

"You're all I have." He squeezed her hand.

Dís stared at his fingers and tried to feel the pressure they exerted.

"You've already lost me," she whispered. "Maybe you are the one who has to face that loss."

Thorin released her. The look in his eyes was a mixture of disbelief, sadness and fear.

"I won't," he replied firmly. "Your children need you!"

Dís shrugged. "They're better off with you."

"But you're their mother! I cannot always care for them, Dís! I need to find father once I've arranged a safe place for you. You need to take care of your own children, especially now Famin is not capable of it! Did dad gave up when mom died? What would have become of us if he had done so? "

"But he was strong," she murmured.

Thorin wrapped his arms around her and pressed his forehead against hers. "You're also strong, Dís. You just need to open your eyes and stop wandering around in the darkness of your thoughts."

Dís stared into his blue eyes, that had been able to calm her down when she was a child having nightmares. She believed him. She really did. She just did not know how to respond to those words.

. . .

THORIN

. . .

The worries about his sister were growing every day, for her gloomy behavior did not change. It had been a while since they'd left the hobbit lands. They walked through green valleys, along babbling brooks and colorful fields. It aroused an innocent, peaceful impression. Sometimes he believed this could be the right place for his sister and the children. There was, however, no community to be found, which must be the cause of the serene atmosphere of this landscape.

The journey broke him. He constantly had to divide his attention between the children and Dís. Sometimes he was afraid his sister would step into a ravine because she could no longer bear her pain. In all fairness, he had to confess that such nightmares plagued him all night. Every morning he got up in fear and looked around in panic to see if she was still with them. Fortunately, time after time he found her rolled in her blanket, with traces of tears on her face. But for him the tears had become a sign that she was alive. That she had found enough courage to go on, though he dared not to think further and wonder what would happen as the light in her eyes faded for good.

As if the state of his sister was't difficult enough, the boys also called for more attention. Kíli could barely walk and had to be carried on his shoulders most of the time. The weight of his nephew was however not exhausting him, despite his inability to sit still. He often hit the head of his uncle in his enthusiasm of seeing something he'd never seen before.

Fíli rushed occasionally into the bushes when he saw a butterfly or another animal that caught his attention, and every time Thorin needed to get the boy back by raising his voice. He would love to give the boy the freedom to explore everything, but he had no energy for that. He wanted to keep an eye on everyone at the same time and that was impossible as Fíli chose an alternative path.

Despite Thorins precautions he failed to keep them out of trouble. Five creatures jumped out of the bushes that surrounded them. Fili pulled the knife Thorin had given him and stood protectively in front of his mother, but Thorin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"What do you want?" he asked roughly to the men who grinned at him. They were humans. They looked just as sloppy as Thorin and his family and they all had a weapon in their hands. Thorin dared to confront them, but that was only possible if he left the children to their fate, and that was excluded.

"Everything." One of them stepped forward. "Let's start with that beautiful coat of yours."

A shiver crept down his spine when one of them dropped his eye on his sister. "And I would like to see you take off your clothes too, lady."

"No," Thorin growled. "Leave her alone."

One of the men laughed. "Or what?" He aimed an arrow at Fíli.

Thorin squeezed his hands together of powerlessness. If they gave off everything, they would die anyway. Then they had nothing to clothe themselves, prepare food or protect themselves against orcs or predators.

Grumbling he began to remove his cloak while he thought feverishly. His eyes flickered to the sword around his waist, but his opponent saw it immediately.

"Give me that."

Thorin wanted to shake his head, for he saw that one of the men was smirking at his sister. He wanted to rush toward him to tear out his eyes, but he saw no way to do that without putting his little nephews in danger.