Work Text:
T.A. 2767
To Dáin son of Náin, heir of the Lordship of the Iron Hills, from his cousin Thorin son of Thráin, Prince of Erebor, greetings.
I think this is dumb, but Fundin is making us practice writing letters. You can't read yet anyway. Perhaps your mother or father will read this to you.
I hope you are well.
What do people write in letters? I don't know. Frerin has been scribbling in the margins, please ignore that. That is supposed to be a picture of me, but it looks rather more like a sick pig.
I am well. I have training in the afternoons. Dwerís is a hard taskmaster, but I do my best. Lessons are in the mornings.
I just realised I have no idea what you look like. It seems odd to have a cousin I don't know. Everyone else is here in Erebor. You won't know what I look like either. Perhaps I should ask Gróin to draw a picture of us. I would ask Frerin...but, well. You can see his artistic efforts, and they are not all that impressive.
I am twenty-one this year, and tall for my age, my mother says. I have black hair and blue eyes. I am already bearded, which my mother is very proud about – Frerin hasn't a hair on his chin yet – and I like music and the sword. Father says your father is red-bearded. I don't have any redheaded cousins yet, apart from Gróin's wife Haban. I wonder what colour hair their children will have.
It feels silly, writing a letter to a new baby. Grandmother says that I will meet you one day, but the Iron Hills are a long way away. But Grandfather says it is sensible to maintain ties.
Is it lonely in the Iron Hills? When Haban describes it, I picture massive bare red mountains and screaming winds as far as the eye can see. It seems bleak and barren compared to the warm dark of Erebor. I hope it is not. I have heard people call you 'provincials and 'rustics' when they think I cannot hear them
I would like to meet you one day. Brothers and sisters are nice, I suppose. I am good friends with our cousin Balin as well. I hope you have friends too.
Your cousin,
Thorin
...
T.A. 2772
To Thorin Prince of Erebor from Dáin son of Náin, heir to the Lordship of the Iron Hills, greetings.
Da saved your letter and I red it now that I am a big Dwarrow. Ma helped me with some of the words.
I have two frends. Your brother draws good pigs.
I would like to be your frend too. I am sorry about the dragn. You can stay with me if you like. I have a toy axe I can share.
Your cousin,
Dáin
P.S. I drew a pichure of me here. I am the one with red hair and you are the one with black hair.
...
T.A. 2785
Dear Dáin,
I hope your lessons are coming along well.
We are in Gondor now. Dís has come down with a cold. Frerin says hello, and also that he will pay you back for that dreadful frog-in-the-bed prank you pulled last time we wintered with you.
I do not get much opportunity to practice my swordcraft as much as I should like. We are always very busy. The Men do not pay very well as you know. Thankfully they cannot seem to tell a half-grown Dwarf from an adult, and so they do not at least try to undercut my prices over my youth. Still, I have managed to snatch a couple of hours here and there. You won't be getting your revenge on the practice-field anytime soon, little cousin. Keep on hoping.
There is a sad sort of gloom over this place, like a dog that waits abandoned by its master. The stonework is good, but it is ancient. I do not think these people have kept the records of the making, and so the art is no doubt lost. A melancholy thought for a melancholy place.
Father is not always well, I am sad to say. Grandfather is much improved, however.
Thank you for sending along the food and blankets. If you can send any more I would be so grateful. Dís gave her blanket to tiny little Glóin, and now her cough sounds as though it rattles in her chest.
I think we will be back north to see you soon. There is no coin to be made here. I will write again when I know for certain.
Take care.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2785
Dear Thorin,
Da says I can't send any more, so I'm sending this in secret.
Don't tell on me.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2786
Dear Dáin,
I won't breathe a word. And thank you, thank you so much. Dís is so much better for the furs and the dried fruit, and Frerin has colour in his cheeks again now that he has warm clothes.
I hope you didn't get into trouble, sending us your things.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2786
Dear Thorin,
I got into loads of truble. Da made me muck out the goats, but I ran away to go fishing instead. It was great fun. Fishing is good in the Hills. There are creeks and waterfalls. Is there fishing where you are?
I'm sending along my new cloak and hood for little Glóin. The oilskins and pouch is for you.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2799
Dear Thorin,
We're on our way. Don't get yourself killed before we get there.
Yes, I'm coming too. No, I won't hear you say otherwise. Yes, I know I'm too young. No, I don't care.
Don't think I can't hear you calling me a stubborn arse.
Hold on just a couple of days longer.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2800
Dáin,
I'm so sorry.
...
T.A. 2800
Thorin,
Shut up. I knew what I was doing. So did my parents. Don't blame yourself.
And eat something.
...
T.A. 2800
Dáin,
I am eating. Balin makes sure of it.
I see them everywhere I look. I cannot help it. I am so sorry.
...
T.A. 2800
Thorin,
Stop being sorry for me, then. I am fine.
...
T.A. 2800
How are you recuperating?
...
T.A.2800
Thorin,
I said I am fine. I can walk with a crutch now. I don't have to ask others to fetch things for me. Lord Gren has taken over the rule of the Hills for now, until I 'get back on my foot'.
Yes, I hate him a lot.
I don't like the sad looks and whispers that greet me every time I wander out, and so I am catching up on my reading. There's not much to eat, and the mines remain closed for now, so there's not much iron to smelt. It's very quiet with the great foundries shut. The Hills seem very empty. I miss fishing. I miss Ma and Da, I am not ready for
I found the enclosed letter when we went through my mother's things and it hurt so much, I couldn't breathe. I thought you should have it.
He really couldn't draw pigs worth a damn.
Eat, you stiff-necked bastard.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2801
Dáin,
I'm the stiff-necked bastard? It sounds as though you have become a nigh-recluse. Dáin. You are not fine. Get out of your rooms.
Gren is a pompous old windbag who needs a swift kick in the stones. You're the Lord now: get rid of him. You make the decisions, not him. Stop letting him push you to one side. If he won't do as you say, feel free to tell him to take it up with me. Or hit him with your crutch.
I know you are probably giving this letter that sardonic look of yours, but Dáin – it doesn't matter how young you are. You are a veteran and the Lord of the Iron Hills and the slayer of Azog, and Gren is a miserable old miser who cannot hold his axe or his ale. Get rid of him.
Open the mines again. And get. Out. Of. Your. Rooms.
Thorin.
P.S. Have you tried a peg?
P.P.S. Thank you for the letter. How Frerin would have laughed at my childish handwriting.
...
T.A. 2801
Thorin,
Yes, I've tried a peg. The wound wasn't tough enough, and I broke the skin and ended up with sores from the bindings all the way up to my knee. The phantom pains were agony that night, too. My toes itch abominably even as I write. I won't give up - I will work on it. All I can say is: I hope you appreciate both your feet, Thorin.
No I'm not fine, you're right. But neither are you. Don't think I can't read the words you aren't writing. Stop drowning in rage and guilt, you idiot. What happened to my parents and to Frerin and to Fundin and Dwerís and Haban and the rest, that wasn't your fault and you couldn't have stopped it. Thrór was the father of our people, and we mustered to avenge him upon Thráin's summons.
This is not your responsibility.
And it was worth losing a foot to clean the world of Azog.
I wish you had taken me up on my offer to come back here. But I think I understand. My home isn't what you want.
I have managed to get my way on a couple of things, though Gren is valiantly trying to put me back in my place. The mines are open again, though we haven't nearly the number of miners that we did. Still, there's a lovely little new seam running down towards the Redwater. I'm sending along some of the coin we've made, as well as tools, armour, weapons, pots and pans, more blankets and food.
How is your father doing?
I am out of my rooms regularly now, and my leg is doing far better. I think my arms and remaining leg have become stronger in compensation for the loss. I like to imagine that the whispers and looks that greet me as I go by with my crutch are for my newfound strength. Or perhaps for my stunning beauty.
Take care, cousin.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2801
You are far too clever for one so young.
And we'll visit again one day. But not now. I can't face being in another Dwarf's home as a refugee, living and breathing in a reminder of all that we lost, I can't do it again
Be well, Dáin.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2810
Dáin,
What's this I hear about a new hobby? Pigs, really? Dís says to say that it doesn't surprise her in the least, ham-fisted and pork-brained as you are.
The ruins of Belegost are hospitable enough. There are dangerous sections that are waterlogged or liable to collapse at the slightest puff of air, and so our delvers and scouts are incredibly careful. It is slow going.
The old diggings are mostly worked-out. Iron, tin, gold and jewels have all been found so far, but not in sufficient quantities to justify a new mine. The Broadbeams of old appear to have been quite thorough.
There are settlements of Men and Halflings nearby. They distrust our skills and our presence. Dwalin isn't much help there. Every time some overstuffed silly little burgher gives him a suspicious look he growls like a mother bear. Now Balin and Óin send him out before negotiations even begin, lest he cost us even more work.
(He's losing the hair upon his pate. Glóin is near-rigid with glee about it.)
At least this land is rich and bountiful. There is game aplenty, and the Halflings are soil-grubbers of skill. We will not go hungry here. Though I thank you for the regular carts of food and clothes. I do not know how you can afford it.
Father... is not well.
Please tell me you've gotten rid of Gren at last. I could use some good news.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2811
My dear optimist,
Pigs are very intelligent creatures, thanking you kindly.
Tell Dís I am disappointed that she didn't take the opportunity to use the word 'pigheaded'. I handed it to her on a platter. Tsk.
I'm walking with a peg these days. As I am still growing, it constantly needs adjusting. I am slowly getting better with it. Wearing the peg too long can make my joints ache, and I walk lopsided, so my hip ends up screaming at me after a while. It's not exactly inconspicuous, either. Everyone in the Hills can hear me coming a mile off. Dáin Hammerfoot they'll call me.
I've a new deal with the Men of Rhûn to supply them with copper and steel, so that's how I'm affording it. Never you mind what I have to do: I'll keep sending food and clothes and all manner of things, and you needn't worry about what I must juggle to do it. You're fed. That's what's important.
As I keep telling you: EAT.
Unfortunately, Gren twists and turns like a dancing eel in order to stay exactly where he is. Every time I manage to pry his sticky hands off one thing, he's clinging twice as tightly to another.
I made a mistake after the battle, and I see it now. You tried to tell me, but I was too mired in anger and self-pity to hear it. By absenting myself and sulking in my rooms I created a vacuum, and Gren stepped into it. Now I'm going to have to fight hammer and tongs to remove him. Damn it.
Ah, that's poor tidings about Ered Luin's mines, I'm sorry to hear it. Perhaps those old Broadbeams left a lode or two untouched for a rainy day. I can hope for your sake, cousin. I am glad that the Halflings (? What is a Halfling?) can at least keep you fed. As I have made it my life's work, I appreciate their help.
My deepest commiserations to Dwalin. That's a hard blow!
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2811
Dáin,
You are only forty-four. Do not be so hard on yourself. Mahal's beard, you were only thirty-two at the time! You had a right to your sadness after losing both your parents and your foot. It is not your fault that Gren is an unscrupulous old snake.
It sounds as though this deal with Rhûn is costing you more than you wish to admit. Do not suffer for our sake, Dáin. That solves nothing. I will not stand by while others suffer for me. Not now, not ever again.
Hammerfoot sounds ridiculous. Ironfoot sounds far better. Use Ironfoot. Dwalin and Glóin agree with me.
I'm eating, I'm eating. I promise.
I am rather fond of the Halflings' ale, as a matter of fact. That and their pipeweed may be the only things of note about them, but they do them so well that I can almost forgive their total uselessness in every other way.
I will thank you if I see fit, and I do. Thank you, Dáin. Dís is sending along some braid-clasps she has made for you. Her jewellery skills proceed, as you can see. She has taken to mocking me for my disinterest in any sort of ornamentation. As an ironsmith, you must surely take my side in this.
Dwalin's hair has finally departed this Middle-Earth. He is covering his head in tattoos.
You have never been inconspicuous. And I want to know about these pigs.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2812
Most garrulous grump,
I think you've been sampling that Halfling ale you were speaking of. Be kind and send me a couple of bottles? I haven't tried anything new in too long, and Gren makes me turn to the drink more often than I care to think about.
The pigs were an idea you planted, long ago. Remember? The picture Frerin drew, in that very first letter. I sent it back to you a decade or so ago. In my defence I was an impressionable child who was very starry-eyed over his big cousin writing to him like a grown Dwarrow. I didn't have anything about you at all, except 'black hair, blue eyes, tall,' and a vaguely piglike scribble. I treasured it for years, you know.
Of course, that was before I got to know you better. The magic is gone. Sorry, cousin.
They're very smart: I've yet to build a pen that they can't get out of, or a watering system they can't break. They move like squealing lightning when they want to as well. Mahal's balls, they're fast! They're far cleaner than the ones you see in the towns of Men (I don't think they care for them, to be frank, penning them together and not letting them roam). My current favourite is a great black-and-white sow called Princess. She has had two litters, and is the most sensitive and intelligent animal I have ever met. She always seems to know when my leg is hurting me, and lets me lean against her to get back to my room. I'm hoping that one of Princess' piglets grows large enough to ride. I think they would be far more nimble and clever than ponies.
Oh go on, laugh at me. But I'll prove it eventually.
Thank Dís for the beautiful clasps – I am wearing them right now, as it so happens. She truly has skill. And no, I agree with her on the matter of decoration. I am an ironwright, Thorin, not an ironsmith. I can't even make a fence for the pigs without adding wrought iron embellishments.
And thank you for the pipeweed! Best smoke I've ever tasted. I've been hoarding it like Gren with authority. I'd gladly set up a trade system, if the Halflings are amenable.
Forty-five, now. Though sometimes I feel like I'm two hundred and forty-five. And you must be nearing your name-day soon, or perhaps it will have passed by the time this letter reaches you. In a few scant years you will be seventy and of-age, and the stuffy old crows on your Council will stop squawking about your youthfulness.
It feels strange to be older but to feel as though you've been grown your whole life. Do you ever wonder what it would have been like to have a childhood?
I am enclosing a tea for your father. My mother used to make it, and it always brings back good memories.
Look after yourself, and drink some more of that Halfling ale. Have one for me.
Dáin Ironfoot.
P.S. Yes, the name has caught on. I blame you entirely, Oakenshield.
...
T.A. 2812
O Decorative Ironwright,
Would you please send us more tools with your next shipment? Nothing special. I doubt the Halflings can tell the difference.
I did indeed drink your share of the ale, and now I have a splitting headache. Yes, my name-day was well-celebrated. Óin is still mostly drunk, and keeps singing in the next room. Be relieved you can't hear it.
You made me wonder last night while I was in my cups, and no – no I cannot imagine it. A normal life, a normal youth, without this crushing pressure and the terrible weight of anger and vengeance, without fear and responsibility dragging my head down, down
If you agree with me over the issue of decoration, then I will not tell Dís that you called a pig 'Princess'. Your move.
I now understand your frustration over Gren entirely. Since the fall of Erebor, the more conservative elements of our Council have become, if at all possible, even more hidebound and rigid. I do sympathise with them. It is obvious that they are clinging to tradition in order to provide themselves with a sense of stability and continuity, but it is obstructionist at best and blindly infuriating at worst. And unfortunately they are gathering the balance of power. The mental image of yourself seated on a pig has been of invaluable assistance in keeping my temper.
My father enjoyed the tea immensely. Thank you, cousin. It has been a long time since he smiled that way. He even said that he remembered your mother drinking it after her challenges, hot enough to scald the tongue.
And you still are an impressionable child. I say that with the authority of a full twenty-one years over you. Youngster.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2825
Orc-breath,
Well, it's begun. They're pressuring me to marry.
What the hell did you tell them to get them to shut up? I am not even of-age, this is obscene. There has even been talk of Dís, Mahal help me.
Help. Help. Help. A thousand times, HELP.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2826
Pigface,
You have an axe, and the Durin glare.
Use both.
(I told Dís. Her reaction? Much the same as yours.)
Thorin
...
T.A. 2827
Wisest of teachers,
All right, now they all think I'm unhinged. I am developing a reputation for being 'unreasonable'.
You give either the best or the worst advice I have ever followed.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2828
Idiot pupil,
I am laughing so hard I think I ruptured something. Balin says he hasn't heard me laugh like that in decades. Your fault. Now I will be the one with the reputation for being unhinged.
What in Durin's name did you do?!
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2828
Revered master,
I threatened to throw them out of the Hills. There was a bit of fisticuffs, and someone tried to headbutt me – they say he will recover. There may also have been some shouting, and Barazanthual ended up in the ceiling.
Also, Princess bit Gren on the shin.
(She's my favourite.)
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2828
Dáin,
I haven't seen him that happy for ages. Thank you.
Dís.
P.S. And thank you for scuppering that bloody horrible idea, also.
...
T.A. 2828
Cousin Dís,
My pleasure. On both counts.
Dáin.
P.S. Make sure he eats.
...
T.A. 2837
Ironheaded Imbecile,
Happy name-day, Dáin. Congratulations on coming-of-age.
Though you've done more in seventy years than most other Dwarves manage to achieve in three hundred.
I hope you like them.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2838
Stubborn Grouch,
I love them, as you damn well knew I would. I'm wearing them in my moustache now. Dís' work?
And you're one to talk. How are those tin-mines coming? If the hidebound relics of your Council can spare you, come east and go fishing with me. The Redwater is teeming with fish in six months. We can take a couple of pigs and clear off for a few days. The world surely won't burn down without us.
Though the way they carry on, you'd think otherwise
Eat. And stop frowning at letters.
I caught you, didn't I?
...
T.A. 2839
Boorish peasant,
Well, the muck has flooded the mine and no mistake. No doubt you've heard.
I could use your support on this.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2839
Arrogant snob,
You have it. What do you need? A public declaration?
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2839
Trollbrain,
Aye, if you can. Proclamation, as many mentions as possible. Be as unreasonable as you like.
Dís deserves to be happy. I cannot believe the Council is acting in this manner. Do you have any suggestions?
...
T.A. 2839
Blunt Chisel,
Mahal below. Your prim and proper lot have some odd ideas sometimes, you know that?
You said it yourself, nearly thirty years ago. They're clinging like burrs to tradition, because it's the only thing they feel they have left, the only thing that cannot be changed. And you're the Royal Family, tough luck. You're going to have all that fervour directed straight at you.
Remind them of my namesake's partner, would you? The tale of King Dáin and Forra might make a few of the smarter ones realise how stupid they are being. He married an impoverished tinsmith. Dís' sweetheart is a stonemason, right? That's a step up from tinsmith.
Proclamation made. I am behind you all the way –and her as well, let her know. There's precious little happiness in the world these days. We should protect it where we find it.
There was quite a lot of spluttering, and yet more muttered comments about my youth and headstrong nature and my 'inexperience', etcetera, etcetera. I had quite a bit of fun leading them around by the nose until they had to admit that I have, in fact, ruled as the Lord of the Iron Hills for forty years. Inexperienced my arse.
That aside, I am enclosing a declaration of my personal support and endorsement of their marriage to present to your Council – not that you need it, but hopefully it will shut some of them up. It's as wordy and official as I can make it. I am doing plenty of reminiscing about the great and steadfast love of our people, and I am bribing about seven of the chattiest of my Court to do the same.
Here in my rough-and-ready Hills we don't pay so much attention to the protocols as you posh and pompous Royal types. Many of the smallfolk here are completely bemused as to why your Council is making a fuss at all.
(I may have gone out for a drink without my tusks and foot again, just to listen in. People don't realise it's me without them. The perks of having favourite ornaments – you see? Ornaments can be useful!)
I am not sure what else I can do. The only other suggestion I can make is for Dís herself to call their bluff. It's not fair they're doing this to her. First that idiotic business ten years ago, and now this. Her life should be her own.
so should yours, damn you, stop shouldering the world and destroying yourself with work and come fishing with me
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2839
Dear inexperienced arse,
Well, all our manoeuvring led nowhere in the end. Dís has settled the matter herself, and in her own way. She has relinquished her place in the succession.
She is marrying Víli in four months. Can you make the wedding?
Thank you for all your support. I know it made a difference to some on the Council. The united front of our family meant that we were able to stall long enough for Dís to come to her own decision.
I am furious that her birthright is to be lost through their machinations and meanness and pinch-faced pomposity. I will be thrilled when all these mouldering boulders finally return to the stone, and the Council is no longer full of fearful old wrecks. They prance and pontificate and preach, acting as though Erebor never fell to Smaug, and I find that I wish dragonfire upon the whole useless lot of them.
That is an unkind thought. But one that I cannot find it in me to regret.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2839
Dear Oakenscowl,
Bitterness is poison, Thorin. Don't give it to it. You told me to get out of my rooms when I was liable to drown in it – so that makes it my turn now. Stop chewing over the injustice of it, stop obsessing, and let the unkind thoughts slide off you when they come. They're only thoughts.
Abdication is something I never even considered. Dís is cleverer than both of us. I'll be there. D'you think she'd like a piglet?
See you soon.
Dáin.
P.S. Don't you comment on the experience of my arse, thank you very much.
...
T.A. 2841
Father has disappeared.
...
T.A. 2841
Oh Mahal protect him. I'll be there soon.
Hold on, Thorin. Let Balin deal with that bunch of querulous old crows.
I'm coming as fast as I can.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2842
Thorin,
I am so sorry, I'll come right out and say it: I haven't heard hide nor hair of him. I've posted sentries all over the North, and I'm paying out of my ears for information about movements around Laketown or old Dale (traders these days!). Nothing.
The last reports I have are of a lone Dwarrow crossing the Gladden Fields.
I will keep looking. Don't lose hope, Thorin.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2842
Thorin,
A wool-merchant has a report of a figure in the northern Misty Mountains, but she cannot be certain that it was a Dwarf. She is sure it was no Goblin. I will send a party to investigate as carefully as possible.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2843
Thorin,
I am so sorry for raising your hopes. I did wish to – but no, what I hoped is not important. It is another false lead. No sign of Thráin.
I am still looking. Don't despair, Thorin.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2846
Happy centenary, Thorin. May you have many years of health and prosperity, my King.
Still looking.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2846
Dáin,
It has been five years. Any trail is long cold.
Stop looking.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2846
Thorin,
Shan't. Feeling unreasonable again.
I'll keep looking, no matter what you say. But I'll pretend that I've stopped if it makes you more comfortable?
Dáin
...
T.A. 2846
Dáin,
You're a pigheaded idiot.
Thank you.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2846
Thorin,
Thank you for finally using the word 'pigheaded' as Mahal intended.
Dáin.
P.S. You're welcome.
...
T.A. 2846
Lord Dáin,
I don't know what you did, but he's better than he was. Thank you for that.
Now that Thráin is gone, have you considered how this affects the succession?
Balin son of Fundin
...
T.A. 2846
Balin,
No, and I don't want to. I'm not moving from my Hills, and you couldn't pay me to be in Thorin's boots.
He'd better live for ever and ever, that's all I'm saying. I don't want to be King of a freezing cold dragon-infested dunghill: I want to go fishing on the Redwater and raise big fierce happy pigs.
Yes, I am being deliberately offensive, because the very idea is offensive. You know me better than to spring that sort of talk on me.
Dáin.
P.S. What's with the 'Lord' business? You've called me by my sky-name since we were pebbles. What's changed?
...
T.A. 2846
Dáin,
You did. You're the heir.
Balin
...
T.A. 2846
Balin,
Bite your tongue, that's disgusting. I can't believe you made me read that with my own two poor innocent wee eyes.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2846
Dáin,
Always so refreshing to hear from you. How are the pigs?
Balin
...
T.A. 2846
Balin,
Fat and happy, thanks for asking. Want one?
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2846
Dáin,
No, thank you laddie. I'll be well enough without.
Balin.
...
T.A. 2851
Thorin,
Here's a barrel of Rhûnic wine. It's bloody strong.
Go get drunk and remember him, all right?
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2851
He would have been one hundred today, our summer sunshine, day to my night
Why is it he is dead and all these bastards are stillhereit makes no sense, bastards like Councillor Nir and Lord Gren and Thranduil, the biggest bloody bastard of the lot, it makes no sense, the world makes no sense
The world is a bastard place filled with bastards
...
T.A. 2851
Dáin,
All right, I didn't mean to send that last. I was very drunk.
I blame you and your viciously strong wine.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2851
Oakenbastard,
I miss him too. Go hug Dís.
Ironbastard.
...
T.A. 2853
King Under the Weather,
The new lode failed, sad to say. Gold is scarce in my Hills, though. I never did hold out much hope for it. I'm sending you all we managed to scrape from it; we're still afloat, if barely. The iron mines, thankfully, never falter, just like the old song says.
But this letter isn't about that, it's. Well. Personal.
I've met someone, and she's remarkable. Utterly remarkable. And no, I do not think this is mere infatuation. I considered that – because she was kind, you see – but no. I think this is the real thing.
Her name is Thira. Her parents were mastersmiths, so you'll have something to talk about. They were both killed at Azanulbizar, and she has been on her own ever since.
She made me a new foot, and it's a wonder. I can wear it for hours without a problem, and it's taken the hitch out of my gait and the pressure off my supporting hip. She's one of the best steelsmiths I've ever seen. And she doesn't turn up her nose at decoration, I'll have you know.
The brigandine is her work. I commissioned it for you. I will eat my beard if it doesn't become your favourite in under a year.
She's not much like me upon a first meeting. She's quiet. Very quiet. Taller than I am. Black skin and beautiful black eyes. We look ridiculous together, to be honest. But she is whip-smart, Thorin. I don't get shaken by many, and she shakes me to the core. I can't seem to stay away from her workshop. It's quiet there. Peaceful. I didn't realise how little of it I have.
So, that's enough of that. I can feel you rolling your eyes from the other side of the world, you know. I am perfectly aware that I am only eighty-six. I can count.
Does Dís need a piglet for a wee one yet?
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2853
Dear lovestruck twit,
If she makes you happy? Marry her. Marry her and be damned with the lot of them.
Thorin
P.S. Dís says No Piglets. Ever.
P.P.S. The brigandine is my favourite already, blast it.
...
T.A. 2853
O romantic advisor,
I'll tell Thira you like the brigandine. She has made me the best bloody helmet I have ever worn. I feel like a mine of diamonds in it. No doubt you'll tell me I look a right cockerel, though.
I find I hesitate, asking the question. She hasn't a single qualm over my leg, or my youth. No, the problem is rather unexpected... though it's obvious once you get to know her.
She is not fond of becoming attached to our family. Now, I'd hold that forth as more proof of her intelligence, but it's nothing to do with us and everything to do with being in the public eye. Thira isn't one for crowds or the limelight. She's far happier tucked out of sight in her workshop.
My being the Lord isn't of any use here, I'm afraid. If we were to wed, she would be forced into the forefront of Court society, made to endure the small talk of every wheedling fool that comes by. She hates small talk – and some of these idiots are worse conversationalists than my pigs.
I want her to be happy.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2853
Oh Mahal wept. Dáin, ask her and stop moping. Your letters make my eyes ache.
Thorin.
P.S. She needn't worry over being forced into the forefront, not with you by her side. You're rather attention-grabbing, cousin.
...
T.A. 2854
To Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin's Folk, from Dáin Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills, greetings:
You and yours are invited to the wedding of,
Dáin son of Náin
and
Thira daughter of Theki
To be held in Grór's Halls upon the nineteenth day of 'af-mahd-danakh.
P.S. She asked me. Told me to stop hovering over the metal, and strike it. You may now proceed to say, "I told you so."
...
T.A. 2854
Mighty Boar bore,
Good. I'll be there to say it in person.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2854
Excellent. Maybe we can finally go fishing on the Redwater.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2859
Dear Third-in-Line,
You can relax – Dís has delivered your saviour. You're no longer the heir. Thank all Seven Fathers and our Maker, eh?
They're naming the baby Fíli. A good size, and with a little tuft of lucky hair on his head. He has blue eyes, and our family nose.
He's a lively little one already. He hollers fit to bring down the roof when he's hungry or dirty, and he can grip my finger in his hand and tug it this way and that. He likes to kick on the sheepskin before the fire.
Dís still says no piglets. But she loves the rattle and the swaddling-cloths, so well done there. She is recovering beautifully. Our mother's strength shows itself.
Víli is so happy he is nearly floating, and I am not far behind.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2859
Dear sappiest of all saps,
Uncle Thorin, eh? It suits you. And you are ridiculously in love with that child already, it practically oozes off the page. I am so happy for you all, really and truly. It's such a great blessing. And I will forever be grateful to little Fíli for saving me from the ignominious fate of being heir to your bloody job.
Dís will come around. I will give someone a piglet, see if I don't. They make such loyal clever little pets.
I'm thrilled she liked the rattle. Silver's not my metal to work with, nor Thira's, but we did our best.
Give Dís a kiss from me, and shake Víli's hand. I'll travel west to meet the little one when the spring comes. You owe me a fishing trip, and I mean to collect.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2859
They're at it again. They're contesting Fíli's right as my heir, because of Dís' abdication of her place in the succession.
Mahal curse them all. Gróin does his best against the other old ones, but they will not listen. All the rest of that generation are dead, and it is his voice alone against the tide. They do not listen to me, nor Balin or Óin.
The raven will wait for your reply. Get here as fast as you can. They're acting as though you're some malleable country bumpkin who will meekly do their bidding once on the throne.
They obviously don't remember you very well.
...
T.A. 2859
Mahal's balls. Well, they are very old, I suppose. The memory goes, I'm told.
I'm two days hard ride away. Blossom isn't as fast as Princess was, but she's far bigger and has twice the stamina. Arriving on a 230-pound battle-pig should strike the right vein, I hope. They're not likely to see me as meek after that!
...
T.A. 2859
Blossom?
...
T.A. 2859
She is as pretty as a flower.
...
T.A. 2859
You're unbelievable. I can't wait to see their faces when you get here.
...
T.A. 2859
I'll have my bannermen blow the horns as I arrive, just so you can poke your head out to watch.
...
T.A. 2859
Do that, and I'll have the whole Council greet you at the gate. This is going to be perfect.
...
T.A. 2859
Am I allowed to swear and yell a wee bit? Or do I have to be all proper Ereborean politeness? I am feeling unreasonable, I'd like to spread it around a bit.
...
T.A. 2859
Honestly? Headbutt the one with the braided ear-hairs, it would make my decade.
...
T.A. 2859
Done. Be there in a couple of hours from now. And perhaps we should give the bird a rest.
...
T.A. 2860
To the finest actor of our family,
No more noises about removing Fíli from the line of succession.
You're a genius. What an entrance! I have never seen the Council so stumped: every single one of them lost for words. And after Blossom's little accident on Nir's shoes, I will never speak ill of your pigs ever again.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2860
Dear doting uncle,
Accident nothing. She did it on purpose. I told you they were smart!
Kiss Fíli and Dís for me. And remind Dwalin that he owes me money.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2864
Goblin-features,
Another one on its way! Dís is ecstatic and nauseous, and asks whether you would kindly send her some of that tea. She has been craving it incessantly. We're all heartily tired of hearing her moan about it.
The Council has been somewhat cowed ever since your visit. I like to casually bring up your name every time they start to get mulish, and it settles them right down.
(On that note, how is Gren?)
We're making a little coin nowadays. There's some prosperity here at the moment, which I am sure is another factor keeping the Council as content as they can ever be. I am sending you a sample of the brasswork we are currently selling. Perhaps you can make some small use of it.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2864
Monkey's Uncle,
Another one! Mahal's blessing on you all! That is so wonderful, I am thrilled! Praise and thanks be to Dís for putting another between me and your stupid work-hat.
I love the brass bells. They're currently on Blossom's collar. Now she can jingle as she trots about, and she won't interrupt Thira at the forge. Pigs can be unexpectedly quiet when they want to be, and it drives Thira up the wall to spill her work because of a sudden oink.
Gren still sits in on my Court and mumbles objections now and then. He is so old now that he's already one shovel deep in the stone. I don't have the heart to take away the one thing he ever cared about, and so when he lifts up his cracking old voice and rambles on and on, we all sit and listen. Then I go ahead and do as I see fit anyway. It's rather sad, to be honest. He hasn't any family, and so I am making sure he is cared for.
Here's the tea, and I've also added a few things for the new baby. No piglet though: Thira wouldn't let me.
None of you know a good thing when you see it.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2864
They're calling him Kíli. He's so tiny, and rather dark. He looks like me.
He's so, so tiny.
...
T.A. 2864
Damn, he came early, didn't he? You must believe in him. There's such strength there, Thorin. Wee Kíli will be well, you'll see.
Give these notes to Óin. They're from our best midwives, and no doubt he can find a use for them.
How is Dís?
...
T.A. 2864
She is recovering well, though it is harder for her than it was with Fíli. Víli is beside himself with worry. We are feeding him by soaking a rag in milk. He cannot suck properly. He is so small, so frail. He fits within my two cupped hands.
Óin says thank you for the notes. Well, he grunted – I am fairly fluent in Óin, and believe me, that is a thank you.
...
T.A. 2864
Dáin,
He's getting stronger and eating properly. He has nearly doubled in weight. Óin says the danger is past.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2865
Eternal Pessimist,
That is wonderful news. I told you so, didn't I? Don't you get all overprotective on him now. I'd love to come by to meet him, but. Um.
Thira's expecting as well.
Believe me, after what happened with Kíli, we are as nervous as a pig in a smokehouse.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2865
Adad-in-Training,
Congratulations to you and to Thira!
Dís has enclosed an entire saga of advice for Thira. I glanced over it, and I dearly wish I had not. I never wanted to know so much of my sister. Víli only has one piece of advice for you: Thira may appear to have all the answers, but in truth she is a lot more frightened than you are and with more reason. Be there for her.
What happened with Kíli will not happen to your child. Besides, the lad is now hearty as an ox, and nearly as strong as his brother. Be comforted. Where is all your usual flippant confidence?
I am sending your baby a small gift. Do not even consider making the journey – it is past time that I came to visit you again, anyway. Perhaps we can have a final fishing trip before your young one is born.
I will try to be there before Durin's Day. Dwalin and Glóin are interested in coming too. Dwalin is going stir-crazy from boredom, and Glóin is hoping that absence will soften the heart of Mizim Ilgaul. As though he has a chance with her!
Thorin
...
T.A. 2866
Utter Git,
I hate you. I'll have you within strangling-reach soon. Beware.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2866
Dear spluttering kettle,
Knew you'd like the name.
Thank you for the sling and the little boots. He can't quite focus on the stuffed ram, but he chews on it enthusiastically and so I'm calling it a success.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2866
You called him Thorin. I can't believe you. The minute I arrive I am going to either hug you or punch you. I am not sure which.
...
T.A. 2866
Secretly Smug One,
of course I called him Thorin, you arse. I've known you my whole life, you're the only one who understands what it's like, to carry all this, to stand where we stand and lose what we've lost; you're the only one who knows what it's like to bear this bloody weight day in and day out. You've always been there, you're the closest thing to a brother I have ever
Want to know the best part? Looks like he's to be tall, with black hair and blue eyes. What are the odds, eh?
Dáin
...
T.A. 2867
Happy centenary, Dáin. Here's to a hundred more.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2870
Here's another barrel of the bastard wine. I'm singing old songs tonight, and I know you are too.
One day, Thorin. One day we'll get it back. One day you'll go home.
...
T.A. 2870
You Swine,
I'm going to have to send Glóin to you again. Mizim turned him down- again. He's been asking for her hand for nearly ten years now. It's been a game they play, but it seems serious this time, to the point where Glóin has been absenting himself from Council. The whole of Ered Luin is in an uproar – it's the juiciest gossip since Dís' abdication.
Enjoy.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2871
His Royal Surliness,
Oh, thanks awfully. He's moping in a corner with his arm slung around Pearlie, drinking all my best beer. D'you know how much I pay for beer up here? There are no convenient Halflings with great hop fields to keep me contentedly drunk!
He's absolutely woebegone over her, isn't he? I've not seen anyone so lovelorn, not in all my years. I feel rather sorry for the poor fellow.
He's a wizard with figures. I might borrow him again if you're amenable. He sorted out the bloody impenetrable Miner's Guild costings for me in less than a day.
I'd be happier about that, but I miss beer too much. All my beer, Thorin. All my beer.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2871
Lord of the Iron Lumps,
Call it revenge for your son's name.
Thorin.
P.S. Please tell me that Pearlie is a pig.
...
T.A. 2871
O Vengeful One,
Of course Pearlie is a pig. She's a good listener, as pigs go. Blossom wasn't nearly so sympathetic... though she was far, far prettier.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2872
Lord of the Bacon Hills,
You worry me sometimes, cousin.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2878
Embarrassing relative,
Glóin and Mizim are finally ending their ridiculous dance. They're getting married just after midsummer. Can you make it? Fíli and Kíli want to meet their cousin.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2878
Thorin,
Aye, wouldn't miss it for the world. Glóin owes me so much beer, I'll need a cart to drag it back home to my Hills. My Thorin is eager to meet them also. Don't be offended, but I'm afraid he will stammer and hide when he meets you. Not because of your terrible Ogre-breath or your unfortunate face - that'd be understandable. No, the lad is close to worshipping the very ground you walk upon. Don't talk to him directly or he might faint.
just like me at that age
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2878
Dáin, what have you been telling that boy?
...
T.A. 2878
Nothing that isn't true.
Be there in a couple of weeks.
...
T.A. 2879
Dáin,
Glóin and Mizim haven't wasted any time! All these children, it is good to see. Glóin said to tell you that he'll name the baby 'Dáin's beer', as it was instrumental to the proceedings.
Don't turn around: You'll be heading straight back into winter. Go home and go fishing with your boy.
He does you proud, in case I forgot to say.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2879
Mahal wept. Tell Glóin to tally up how many sleepless nights that mental image cost me. I'm sending him a bill.
Tell him congratulations, also.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2879
Dáin,
A big strapping lad this time. They are calling him 'Gimli' and I have never seen any Dwarrow so devoted to their child as Glóin is.
They say thank you for the toy axe. Wee Gimli is focusing upon it already, which sends Óin and Glóin into raptures of pride. He's all red hair and cross little face. Rather reminds me of some other belligerent axeman I know.
The Western tunnels have turned out to be a disappointment. Flooded again. We keep striking north, but lose the vein. That ancient quake rearranged everything like a dropped cake: layers have shattered and shifted in treacherous ways, hard to follow.
If you've any experts in such things, I wouldn't say no to their help.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2880
Víli's dead.
...
T.A. 2880
I'm on my way.
...
T.A. 2880
I punched old Nir in the teeth today. He was sneering about Dís' 'lowborn paramour' and suggesting that it was Víli's 'weak breeding' that did him in. And then suggested that Dís had thrown away her birthright with nothing to show for it but two baseborn brats.
I am so angry. I feel like I could bite rock and spit sand. Dís is a wreck, and I am of no use to her.
Get here quickly, Dáin. I need someone to fight, and the others are too craven to face me.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2880
Say rather: they won't fight a Dwarf who is grieving. Me, I know better. Who was it who dragged me out onto the practice ring after my foot was lost, eh?
Is Nir the old scarecrow I headbutted? If so, I feel very good about it. Very good. So good, I might just repeat the experience.
Tell Dís I'm on my way, and tell Balin to tell Dís that I am so sorry. Won't make you do it.
Go be with your nephews. They don't need you to talk, just to be there. They're probably scared that everyone just disappears.
I think I could make this bloody journey in my sleep now. I'm on my own, no retinue or anything. Just me and Mittens.
...
T.A. 2880
I spent time with Fíli and Kíli. You were right. You know I hate it when you're right. so damned clever, Dáin, how do you see to the heart of
You named a pig Mittens?!
...
T.A. 2880
He's got white feet.
EAT.
...
T.A. 2880
Balin,
Make him eat.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2880
Dwalin and Óin are on the case.
Balin.
...
T.A. 2880
Good.
Dáin.
...
T.A.2888
Thorin,
I heard the wonderful news! Tell Glóin and Mizim congratulations again - and Mizim still won't let me send a piglet. You're all philistines.
So here is a piglet that will not offend. It is woven of our highland goat's wool, I hope Wee Gimrís likes it.
Dáin.
...
T.A. 2899
Cousin,
You have to be here. I know you don't want to come: you have a young family, and you travel so often away from your Hills already.
One day I fear I will ask for too great a favour
They're talking about some sort of grand ceremony of remembrance. I can't face this alone. I can't.
Please.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2899
Thorin,
Damn it.
All right, I'm on my way. I'll shout some sense into them. What are they thinking, holding some great feast for the anniversary of a catastrophic bloodbath?
Dáin
...
T.A. 2899
Dáin,
The old Dwarrows on the Council get maudlin over it, though hardly any of them saw the battle itself. They mull stupid platitudes and wax poetical about glory and death. Fools, all of them.
The younger generation are all afire with dreams of daring and courage, and they look at Dwalin and Glóin and Balin and the rest as though they crap diamonds. Myself they either treat with speechless awe or with challenge. They wish to test their mettle against my reputation.
When did we become middle-aged? It happened when I wasn't looking.
I have no patience with any of it. Their eyes call me a mighty warrior and the victor of Azanulbizar, but I find that all I wish to do is hide from them. Because I cannot, instead I cut them down with glares and scorn. Even Dwalin has commented on my foul temper.
How in Mahal's name can the word 'glory' be used about Azanulbizar? The reek of the pyres, the smoke, the blood slipping and mixing with the mud underfoot? It's hideous. It's obscene.
I have shouted until I am red in the face, and none of them hear me. They're lost in some fantasy where we emerged unscathed and did not starve for two winters following.
Tell me what your damn pig's name is this time. I need the laugh.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2899
Her name's Petal. She's a big smoochy lass with a lot of love in her piggy heart. Be warned: she will try to sit on your lap like a puppy.
(She weighs 255 pounds.)
I'm two weeks away now. Hold on. I have an idea.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2899
Dáin,
Why did you do that? I know how you feel about it!
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2899
Thorin,
Let's see them spout nonsense about glory and honour and mighty deeds now that they've seen one of the costs.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2899
I was there, Dáin, when you were recuperating – I know how you feel about it. You did not have to be seen without your foot. You did not have to do that for me!
...
T.A. 2899
Aye, that's true. I didn't have to. And you know how I felt about it – but cousin, that's the important word. Felt. It's been a long time, laddie. I've more or less become used to being Dáin Ironfoot now. It's part of who I am.
No, I still don't much like being seen without it. But there are more important things. how dare they use those words to you, to me, don't they
Let's see if those fantasists can still wax poetical about Azanulbizar after seeing me hobbling around on a crutch instead of clunking about on my ironfoot. Let's see 'em talk about "honour and mighty deeds" after watching me need help just to hop up a couple of stairs. Let's hear the word "glory" now that they know what lies beneath the sheepskin lining over my stump.
I'm as angry as you are, Thorin. I just deal with it a mite differently.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2905
Son of a Mangy Warg,
Fíli and Kíli are in disgrace at the moment, and I thought of you. The prank was a fine one. They wrapped a dressmaker's dummy in bandages and left it lying in Óin's bed. It looked a little like someone was sleeping there – but rather more like someone had dumped a corpse.
Óin was not well-pleased. The resulting bellow made the entire mountain-range shake. The lads did not stick around to see the results of their work, but had cleared off in short order. After a short search they were found – out fishing.
Yes, that's why I thought of you.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2906
Tree-shagger,
That's a fine one indeed! Pass on my heartiest appreciation – once they're out of disgrace, of course.
My Thorin hasn't played a prank in his born days. That's a small source of sadness to me, actually. He hasn't many friends his own age, and he doesn't make them easily. He has such a fine mind, and his weapons-work is shaping up nicely (that'd be his hero-worship of you again, cousin), but still, he spends most of his time daydreaming alone, or wandering the red-rock escarpments.
I'd like to go fishing with him - if the paperwork ever released me from its tyrannical grasp.
Tell you what, if Fíli and Kíli ever manage to wheedle their way back into your good graces (should take at least three hours) then perhaps they'd like to come for a visit? Glóin's children as well, naturally. It'd be good for my Thorin to have other young folk about, and no doubt you all would enjoy the temporary peace and quiet.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2906
Dáin,
Mahal bless you. Take them and bloody well keep them
Dís
...
T.A. 2907
Sourpuss,
They are having a roaringly good time. I do mean roaringly: I think they've deafened me with their hollering!
I am enclosing a find that Kíli made in one of the creeks. Looks like there's more gold to be found here, Thorin! Perhaps I wrote that failed lode off too quickly.
My lad is very awkward with them all, but I've caught him smiling a few times. Fíli and Kíli tease a lot, don't they? That Gimli lad flares up every single time, and he even goes in with his fists when they try to tease my Thorin. And Gimrís is not a lass I would dare cross, even at her tender age. She doesn't fight fair.
We all went fishing, and got rained on. It was great fun. Paperwork be damned.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2910
Dear Cousin Dáin,
I'd like to come stay with you again, if I may? Uncle Thorin is being a giant bossy repressive arse.
Kíli
...
T.A. 2910
Dear Cousin Kíli,
Aye, well, he does that. But not without reason. What did you do?
...
T.A. 2911
All I did was wander East a little! I just wanted to see a bit more of the world. I'm nearly grown, I can take care of myself!
It was worth it, too. I saw a Fire-moon, the biggest brightest thing I've ever seen.
...
T.A. 2911
Kíli,
Don't be pigheaded, lad, that's my thing.
You know how your father died, and he was an adult.
Your Uncle cares for you, he does not mean to stifle you. Talk to him. Or better yet, talk to your mother, and she'll talk to him. Going off on your own is not the way. Find a compromise, that's how to do it.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2911
Dear Cousin Dáin,
Sorry about Kíli.
Fíli
...
T.A. 2912
Dear Cousin Fíli,
May I suggest you practice saying those words? I suspect you're going to be saying them a lot over the course of your life.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2923
Ham-for-brains,
Old Gróin has finally passed.
Óin and Glóin are in deep mourning, but I cannot help but think how unusual it is for one of our line to die of old age, peacefully, asleep in their bed.
He will be missed.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2924
Cracked Quartz,
Aye, he will be missed. My sympathies to his sons and grandchildren.
So, he was the last, wasn't he? The last of that generation. The rest were all taken by the thrice-damned battle.
Ah, these are evil times.
Dáin
…
T.A. 2924
I am the gloomy one, not you. Everyone knows that.
Stop brooding. Go fishing with your son. Name a pig something preposterous.
Óin and Glóin agree with me, and I know Old Gróin would too.
Thorin
...
T.A. 2939
Dáin,
I'm going to be out of touch for a couple of months. There has been a report of a lone Dwarrow in the lowlands or Eriador.
I do not dare to hope.
Thorin.
...
T.A. 2940
Dáin
It was not Father.
A chance encounter led me to meet with the Wizard, Gandalf. Óin has read the portents, and the birds are returning North at long last. The signs all point towards Erebor.
The entire Council is against me. All Ered Luin has refused. Whole families have turned away from me. None but a scant handful of my people stand by me.
I know the dangers. The Wizard has some ulterior motive he will not speak of. Yet with his help, I mean to try.
Are you with me?
Thorin
...
T.A. 2940
Thorin,
Against a bloody dragon! Are you drunk?! Tell me you're drunk! It is a suicide mission! Thorin, your own father has been missing for decades because of this very dream!
Dáin
...
T.A. 2940
I have to try.
Order your armies to fight for me. We can take it back! We can! Now is the time!
...
T.A. 2940
Cousin. You are my King, and if you order me, I will come. We will fight, as we have fought before.
I will not compel any to do so. I cannot. I will not.
It must be you.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2940
so this is it, the one favour you cannot grant at last
You are their Lord, not me! You should order them!
...
T.A. 2940
Thorin. You are the father of our people, just as Thráin and Thrór were before you. We mustered and marched away on their orders, and we will do so on yours.
But I wash my hands of this choice. I will not force any to go up against Smaug the Terrible. I will not be the one to send those under my care to another Azanulbizar. I will not order any of my folk to die all over again for the halls of another.
Thorin, I know you want to go home. Do not make me buy your home with iron blood again.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2940
Curse you. Rot forever, Ironfoot. How dare you speak of home to me? You who have always known what it is to have one?
I cannot give that order, and you know it. I cannot do it. I cannot order them to die for me.
...
T.A. 2940
I have my home, aye, my fierce Hills. I have always wanted that for you, Thorin, as well you know.
And that's about the shape of it, isn't it? You cannot order them to their death. Well, neither can I.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2941
Dáin, Lord of the Iron Hills, from Thorin II of Erebor, King Under the Mountain:
You are needed.
I order you and yours to make all haste to Erebor. The dragon is dead, but we are besieged by Men and Elves, and surrounded by treachery. They threaten to steal our gold from beneath us. We number but fourteen.
This is a Royal Command. You may not refuse it. I order you as the father of our people.
...
T.A. 2941
Thorin? Are you quite well? what happened to "I won't order your people to die for me"
All right, all right, we're coming. Hold onto your beard. Beastie's one of the fastest boars I've ever bred. Three days at most. Stall them.
Dáin
...
T.A. 2941
I am as well as I have ever been.
Hurry up. Else you be branded traitor.
King Thorin II of Erebor
P.S. Use my title, you craven fool.
...
T.A. 2941
King Pompous Git Under the Dungheap,
We're half a day away: we've run all day and night for three days. We have supplies and water and food.
I'm nearly there, so close now.
Keep a watch towards the East. I'm planning my best entrance yet.
Dáin
...
FIN