. . .

DÍS

. . .

Dís grumbled as she pressed a wet towel against the deep cut in her lower leg. The umpteenth trail of blood glided down, making the original color of the cloth unrecognizable.

Frustrated, she threw the towel to the other side of the room and heaved a deep sigh. She never realized it was so difficult to shave your legs. The lack of good razors in Imladris didn't help, since the elves didn't need them. In the dwarf cities Dís had never paid attention to it, but a few days ago she decided she didn't want to stand out anymore. She couldn't do much about her anything but slender built and her seize, but she had tried to smooth her hair and was wearing an elvish dress. It didn't feel very comfortable, although a fur collar was neither suited for this part of the world.

Smooth arms and legs had been the next step, but the knife she used did more harm than good.

Dís looked up when the door opened. In shock, Kíli stared at the wounds on her legs and he kept staring at them with a pale face.

"Kíli?"

The mentioning of his name seemed to shake him up. Suddenly, he turned around and ran away.

"Kíli!" Groaning because of her stiff limbs, she got up. She heard the front door slam shut and she knew she would never be able to catch up with him.

Frustrated, Dís raked her fingers through her hair. Some of the wounds were stinging and exhausted she sat down on the couch. Why did things never go as planned?

~

Dís had dozed off when the front opened again. She heaved a sigh when she saw Arwen's worried face. "I'm fine."

"You're fine?!" Arwen repeated in disbelief. "Kíli told me in panic you were cutting your own legs!"

Cursing herself, Dís closed her eyes. She could picture him running through the palace, screaming that his mother was hurting herself. If she had ever believed they would consider her as a normal inhabitant, that chance was ruined now.

"Kíli didn't give me the chance to explain myself. Where is he now?"

"He is with my father. He is worried about you."

Ashamed, she cast her glance down. Great. She wished the floor would swallow her. "What a misery."

A tear glided down her cheek.

"Ssh," Arwen hushed. The elf sat next to her on the couch and wrapped her arms around her. "What's going on, Dís?"

Dís didn't know what to say. That she felt so insecure about her appearance that she barely dared to look into the mirror? That she had a feeling that people were always staring at her? That it felt like everyone was making fun of her because her hair always looked wild, because she had quite the curves and because her legs were so hairy she could make a fur coat of it?

Arwen wouldn't understand. She was a beautiful elf; the only reason people were staring at her was because of her beauty, and not because she looked hideous.

Dís shrugged her shoulders. "I just want to have smooth legs, like you," she muttered. "That's all. Kili made a big deal out of it. I just lacked a good razor blade." Cautiously she looked aside, to Arwen who listened carefully.

"Why do you want smooth legs?"

"Because it's beautiful."

"Did it bother you in the past?"

Dís shrugged her shoulders. "No dwarf ever considered to shave her legs."

"Then why are you?" Arwen asked friendly. "You will always be a dwarf, Dís. You don't have to look different because you're living with us. We accept you as you are. You're my friend, whatever you look like." She sighed. "But you don't look happy in this dress and with that straight hair."

Dís stared at her feet. Maybe Arwen didn't mind what she looked like, but others might.

"Did you ever had feelings for someone, Arwen?" he asked hesitantly. She wanted her friend to understand her.

Arwen shook her head in surprise. "No?"

Dís' glance returned to the floor. "If you do, you want to look pretty."

"I can imagine." For a moment Arwen was silent, then she laid a hand on Dis' knee and squeezed. "Do you have feelings for someone?"

"Maybe," Dís muttered. Even though she was no longer doubting her feelings, it was hard to admit.

"That's wonderful! It will do you good. Are the feelings mutual?"

Her enthusiasm made her laugh, even though the answer hurt. "No," she muttered. "A miracle has to happen first."

"Try to stop those negative thoughts, Dís. These have never helped anyone. How can you be so sure he's not interested in you?"

Dís shrugged her shoulders. She opted to say as little about it as possible, so she couldn't slip up. "I'm a dwarf."

"And you think all elves are so shortsighted that they rule out a relationship with a dwarf immediately?" Arwen asked, raising a brow.

Dís bent her head, staring crestfallen at the floor. "No," she muttered. "But it's just..." She didn't know what more to say. She believed an elf could fall in love with her, theoretically, but not Lord Elrond.

"I just don't know. Only thinking of him gives me the feeling I'm betraying Famin."

"It might me quick," Arwen admitted. "But time is only a word. You've processed a lot the past months." She covered Dís' hand with her own. "And I'm sure Famin wants you to become happy again."

Dís bit the inside of her cheek. Should she tell Arwen? Then her friend would understand why there was no future for them. He however was her father...

"Maybe I can put in a good word," Arwen smiled, as if she'd read her thoughts. "That is, if you want to tell me who it is?"

Dís' eyes nervously darted across the room. "I – I don't think I'm ready to share it with someone," she murmured.

"I don't mind," Arwen answered. "You want to come with me to my house so we can reassure Kíli?"

Dís took a deep breath. Right now, she really didn't want to see Lord Elrond. She never wanted to look him in the eye again.

"Can you get him?" she murmured.

Arwen gave her a surprised look, studying her face. Dís' cheeks started to glow; nervously she fidgeted with her fingernails.

"He works or lives in the palace, is he not?"

A mischievous smile adorned the face of the elf, although Dís didn't understand why. Ashamed, she stared at the floor. "Yes."

"Maybe things aren't as hopeless as you think," Arwen entrusted her with a knowing look.

Her intrusive look seemed to suffocate Dís. What was Arwen trying to tell her?

"I don't think we're talking about the same person," Dís muttered. She had no idea what name had popped up in Arwen's head, but she couldn't imagine Lord Elrond had told her about his possible feelings for her. She would never have had a conversation like that with her father.

"Well, let's be honest... I think you barely know ten men by name."

Dís got the feeling the walls of the living room were coming closer and closer with every word leaving Arwen's mouth.

"And since one third is family of mine, I have to admit that I am very curious." She squeezed Dís hand. "How wonderful would it be if we would become family!"

Dís turned her head aside, staring at her friend in disbelief. That would mean that she would become Arwen's stepmother. Although she was very aware of the fact that Lord Elrond was her father, she hadn't thought for a moment about what it would mean for her friendship with Arwen if something happened between the elf king and her. It was too bizarre for words and it would undoubtedly destroy their friendship.

She thought of Arwen's other family members and her thoughts kept circling around Elrohir.

"You're trying to set me up with your brother," she sighed.

Arwen looked at her. "Wouldn't that be nice? He does have a thing for you, Dís."

"It's not Elrohir," Dís told her, before this conversation would start to lead its own life. It would have been so easy to pretend that it was Elrohir who had stolen her heart, but in the end she wouldn't get anything good out of it. The easiest way wasn't always the wisest way.

"Oh. I thought..."

Arwen didn't finish her sentence and Dís was still contemplating whether she should tell her friend the truth or not. Arwen would probably agree that she could better forget about Lord Elrond. Furthermore the word would be out; she would no longer be afraid to slip up and it might even improve her bond with Arwen, because she entrusted her with her deepest secret.

"It's not your brother who calls up these strong feelings inside me," Dís muttered eventually. She had made a decision, but it didn't make her any less nervous. "It's your father."

Dís saw that her friend was trying to keep her face straight, but the shock didn't leave her eyes.

"Oh..."

Sighing, Dís shrugged her shoulders. "Just forget about it. I already told you it's hopeless."

Arwen seemed to consider whether she should give her friend false hope or not. "You never know. He likes you, there's no doubt about that."

"You're my friend, Arwen. My brother is befriended with his son. Even if he believes I'm a pathetic cry baby, he will pretend to like me for the sake of you."

Dís had hoped to feel relieved after her confession, but she didn't. Although she trusted Arwen with her life, she was still afraid her friend would accidentally slip up.

"I don't think my father ever looked at other women since my mother left," Arwen admitted. "Two hundred fifty years ago."

"That's how it's supposed to be," Dís muttered. "It's disgusting that I develop feelings for another man so easily."

Arwen grabbed her hand. "Don't say that, Dís. I haven't heard my father laugh in more than a century. You can't keep mourning your husband's death for the rest of your life; it won't help anyone and especially not your children." She bit her lip. "And yours are very young."

Dís folded her hands between her knees and stared at them. "I don't know what to do, Arwen. Every time I see him, I behave ridiculous or I simply start to cry." Frustrated, she blinked her eyes when the tears were showing up again. "And Kíli just made the situation even more awkward."

"That will fade," Arwen hushed.

Dís shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't convinced. "Sometimes I feel so guilty because all of this is plaguing my mind and makes me upset, while Thorin is looking for my father and might go through the worst horrors."

"Your brother would wish you would search love, instead of worrying about him. Thorin will be fine, I'm sure of it."

Dís appreciated Arwen's attempts to cheer her up, but it didn't really help. Arwen didn't know there was a giant orc after them, whose life goal it was to wipe out their bloodline. Because of it, the life of Arwen's brother was in danger too, but she couldn't tell her that. If the elves knew who haunted them, they might force them to leave Imladris. She didn't expect them to, but it wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

"Let's go to my house. You can't avoid my father forever and they are surely worried about you."

Dís didn't answer, but there was a sting in her stomach. What would she say when she saw him? That she had cut herself because she was trying to shave her legs? They probably didn't even know what a razor was.

"How does it feel to be in love?" Arwen asked curiously when Dís had closed the door behind her. "I'm so curious!"

"When I fell in love with Famin, it was a wonderful feeling," Dís murmured. "But now I've fallen for your father... it's horrible. In his eyes I'm just a child."

"In his eyes, time has no meaning," Arwen said. "The ages gaps between some couples around here go beyond a millennium sometimes. For an elf, age isn't a restriction." She folded her hands while they ascended a stairs. "But what do you feel?"

Dís shrugged her shoulders. "I'm always nervous and sometimes I don't even dare to leave the house in fear that I will walk into him."

"But what is it you're so afraid of?" Arwen asked confused. "My father won't hurt you."

Dís stared at the stone steps below her. "I'm afraid of myself, because I behave like a lunatic around him."

"I never noticed anything, Dís. It might be all in your head."

She thought back to the moment she had left the kitchen in a rush, leaving Lord Elrond with the dishes. It was the last time she had seen him. "I hope it stays that way until those stupid feelings go away."

"And if they don't go away?"

The idea frightened Dís. "Then I will leave."

In shock, Arwen stood still. "You don't mean that, right? Your children are safe here!"

"I know, I know," Dís muttered, who had answered without thinking. "Let's not assume that."

Although deep inside, she was indeed scared her feelings refused to go away.

~

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.