Strings Attached

It… sings. Sweet, so sweet.
The Mountain, their home.
Dís could feel it from the first time she saw it again, on Carrock. Stronger and stronger it pulled on her heart. And now... they were on their way.
To the mountain.
Home.
She was worried. Did the others survive? Did Thorin… Was he alright?
She almost run the last mile, not taking into account Kíli’s injury and Oin’s age.
Finally!
They... were home.
Home, sweet home…
But then… Thorin. She saw it, the look in his eyes.
He was not alright.
And the gold sung. Its voice sweet, so sweet.

Dís never believed she will see Smaug with her own eyes.
When he attacked Erebor she didn’t see him. Hearing – and smelling him – was enough.
And now he was here.
All the boasting was forgotten.
Mahal, he was huge! And he spit fire!
It seemed impossible. This nightmare… can’t be happening!
But it was.
Dís suddenly felt like she is… not dressed properly.
Wearing trousers... like every other dwarven maiden on the road?
She should wear dress now.
For the biggest moment of her life. Facing the dragon.
She is a princess, after all.
She should be seen as such.

She counted on having dinner – no, feast actually – in Erebor this night.
She was left behind.
She counted on help of people of Laketown.
She watched her son fight for his life.
She counted on word from Thorin. On some news. On the dragon being deep asleep (or possibly dead?).
Or on Bilbo getting the Arkenstone, just like that…
None of that happened.
Dís watched as the Mountain came alive with flames and roaring, a roaring of enraged dragon.
They should have stayed in Ered Luin.
She swore.
Now let that worm come here! She will show it what for!

And here she goes again, thought Dís.
As if it was not enough of this… elf. The look at her face as she took athelas from Bofur’s hands… was almost ecstatic.
“I can save him!”
Alright, so she did save Kíli.
But she certainly didn’t have to drug him.
She didn’t have to try so hard to impress him.
She would’ve done a better job of that if she made sure no orc would get close.
Thankfully, Kíli still could count on his mother.
Dís didn’t try to impress anyone. Still she managed to make sure Tauriel knows her place.

Dís was robbed. Of the Quest, of Erebor, of her home.
“Stay with Kíli,” said Thorin. “He needs you.”
Of course she would stay with Kíli! But Kíli was supposed to go on, not to be left behind!
Yesterday they celebrated. Bofur got so drunk he completely disappeared under the table… falling asleep, according to the sound of snoring.
Yesterday everything seemed promising.
Yesterday they told each other: “Tomorrow we will celebrate in the halls of Erebor!”
That was yesterday.
Tomorrow… she will sit here and watch how her son fights for life.
She didn’t want that kind of tomorrow.

After they were caught stealing from the armory, the people of Laketown got to the square. Mainly because of curiosity.
The dwarves were standing proud, Dís kept safe in the middle of them.
She hated it.
The mood of people was quite dark. Are they in danger?
“Promise them gold,” she whispered to Thorin.
He had them wrapped around the finger in no time. The mob got drunk... on a promise of gold. Noone could lay a hand on the dwarves now. The people didn’t listen.
Gold, gold, gold was all they could think of.
And they call dwarves greedy.

They were running through a city of men in broad daylight, thinking they won’t be noticed.
Stupid.
Then they entered a house... through the toilet.
Clumsy.
They thought a fisherman would have some… real weapons.
Naïve.
When they found out he didn’t, they got the brilliant idea of trying to steal some.
Foolish.
Yes, and noone took care of Kíli’s injury.
Idiots.
Of course everything just had to go down the drain. Because if any of them ever possessed brain, they really managed to displace it.
Dís just hoped they will be able to locate it before this is over.

Dís disliked Bard from the first time she saw him. Unfortunately they needed him. And fortunately he needed their money.
So now they were stuck on this little boat, listening to stories of greatness of Laketown… before the dragon came.
Bard was certain of one thing. Everybody was.
The reason why the dragon came.
It was because of the dwarves.
It was their fault. Their crime was greed.
(And that coming from the man who took nearly all their money.)
Guilty without a process.
And if that was not enough…
He stuck them into barrels and buried them in fish.

Escape from the dungeons was fun.
At first.
It was almost like an amusement park (except she didn’t know what an amusement park was). Until the gate was closed and the ride stopped.
Then the orcs came.
And Kíli… got hurt.
Then the gate opened and the ride continued. Going through the whitewater and orcs, working together to get to safety.
Safety…
Kíli was hurt.
Thorin was frowning.
Dís had a feeling they should return and try it all over again – and better this time. She would even pay the elves for another opportunity.
Shame life doesn’t work like that.

So the elves decided to stick them into prison.
How typical.
Dís frowned.
It was not smelly and cold prison, but one would expect as much of the elven folk. The cells were... well, not spacious and comfortable, but at least clean and reasonably well kept.
But... they were cells, obviously.
And Thranduil only wanted to see Thorin, and that for a short time.
How long is he going to keep them here?
But the worst thing in here is… that one.
The one... that walks in starlight.
She comes out of the darkness… to steal Kíli’s heart and soul.