Tag: dwarves

A happy headcanon to counteract all the sads: All the Sansukh couples doing booty-grabs. With varying levels of discretion and success.

Well, it’s not all the couples, sorry – but this inspired a little something!

…

“I absolutely hate this,” Thira whispered, pulling at theornate ceremonial gown. Dáin gave her an apologetic smile, and straightened hercrown.

“I know, love, an’ I’m sorry. But it’s just for the Durin’s
Day ceremony, and then you can leave.”

She sighed gustily, and gave him a resigned smile and a peck
on his whiskery cheek. “I know, sweetheart. But I’ll never like it, never. I feel
like I’m drowning in this monstrosity. And I’ve always hated being on display
like this…”

Behind them, also dressed in unfamiliar and uncomfortable
finery, their son chewed absently on his lip. Thorin was broadening into his
adult frame now, thickset and heavy-shouldered like his father rather than tall
and wiry like his mother. He appeared every inch the proud young heir. 

Still, the pressures of this new crown were weighing
on him also: the Stonehelm had never been prepared to take on the role of Crown
Prince, and had become rather self-conscious and diffident. He was acutely
aware that the three kings preceding him were titans, heroes, legends. He knew that many of the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains did not truly see Thorin son of Dáin at all – they saw instead the shadows of two young Princes who lay in stone far beneath their feet. He had
begun to question his own worth, and it broke Dáin’s heart to see it.

His lad was more precious than all the mithril in Khazad-dûm.

“All right, game faces on,” he told them both, and pushed
open the throne-room doors. Moving at a stately pace in time with the giant
drums, the new Royal family made their procession to the thrones. The hollow
where the Arkenstone had once sat yawned like a mouth, but Dáin was determined
never to fill that place with any gem, no matter how wondrous. Some things were
meant to be remembered.

The drums rolled to a crescendo, and stopped. Before the
throne, Dáin turned to the assembled court and raised his hands – and choked,
eyes boggling.

It sounded very loud
after all that drumming.

Sending an incredulous glance to his wife, he could see that
her face was slightly less tight and pinched, and there was a little twinkle in
her eye. Their son was slowly turning pink. It was all Dáin could do to continue
with the new year’s blessing upon the Kingdom without bursting into guffaws.

Finally the damned thing was done, and he nearly flopped
onto the throne as the room erupted into song. “You wicked woman,” he growled.

She arched a dark eyebrow, a small smile hovering around her
mouth. “Have to amuse myself somehow. Can I go back to the forge now?”

Dáin picked up her hand and kissed it firmly, grinning at her over the top. “Aye. And
watch out, Thira m’love. One o’ these days, I’ll be paying you back in kind!”

Now very red indeed, the Stonehelm let out a tiny and intensely embarrassed groan.

Baby Freninith is the cuddliest toddler to ever cuddle. No one is safe from his demands of “up!.” He is notorious for sitting in the laps of people who are chairing meetings and just chilling, sucking his thumb or a toy, refusing to get off. Dwalin absent-mindlessly cuddles his youngest whenever this happens. Orla mostly ignores it, except for making sure Frerinith doesn’t fall or hurt himself. Dain judiciously uses the kid as a prop to discomfit people in Council or at Court he doesn’t like.

AWWWWWW!

I can imagine Orla, face impassive as always, giving a blistering dressing-down to some insubordinate soldiers while Frerin chews happily on a braid, tucked in the crook of her arm. 

Dain would probably pretend to ‘consult’ the little one in his lap. “Now, what d’you think? Think it’s the same proposal as last year? Aye, me too. Think we should send the silly trade deputation packing? All right, you’re the boss. You heard him, lads. Out you get – an’ get more creative next time!”

CUDDLEBUNNY FRERINITH. 

Baby Frerin’s cheerfulness must be a giant kick in the guts to Dis though – she probably doesn’t remember her middle brother very well, but she does remember that he was always happy and laughing, and wanted other people to be happy to. And baby Frerin is like that too.

Absolutely. She remembers warm impish smiles, golden hair, and a loud laugh. She remembers a brother who sat with her and cheered her when she was cross or upset. She remembers… not much more than that. She was only 39 when he died.

Gimli started something when he drew Dis out of her mourning. Every child of the extended Durin line (and quite a few who aren’t) now call her ‘Aunt Dis’, just as he does. Even the adults sometimes refer to her as ‘Aunt Dis’ now and then, as in “go and ask your Aunt Dis.”

Frerinith likes to play with her measuring-weights, and will sit for ages just placing them on and off the scales, watching them bob. He also calls her ‘Aundish’ – because he doesn’t quite have his tongue-placement right yet.

She does love being Aunt to all these healthy, merry children. It’s one of her few sources of true joy.

Still, it never fails to remind her that nobody will ever call her ‘amad’ again.

I don’t know if you’ve answered this before, but what was the reaction of Dis/Thorin/ Frerin to Dwalin naming his youngest son Frerin

Well, I’ve done a bit of this answer? Definitely Thorin’s and Frerin’s reactions to their namesakes, anyway.

Thorin’s response to the naming of Dwalin’s last child was utter gratitude. He immediately dragged his brother close and held him as Frerin reeled with the knowledge that he was not forgotten. 

(Then Thorin had to endure three straight days of Frerin crowing about it.) 

Dis’ reactions to all three, though…

Dis’ reaction to Wee Thorin’s name was to stare at Dwalin as though skewering him through with daggers made entirely of her will. Then she said, “another one.”

Dwalin had the good grace to look sheepish. 

When Balinith came along, Dis only clenched her jaw and sighed.

When Frerinith came along, and Dwalin told her the name Orla had chosen (hesitantly, his massive hands wringing the edge of his tunic), Dis had to stand and leave the room very quickly. 

She’d nearly forgotten what it was to cry with happiness. 

is sauron able to get some power over the dead dwarves when he uses their dark names?

Absolutely. It’s naming the very soul of them, the deepest, most intimate core of who they are. 

Sauron using their dark-name is a brutal and horrible display of power, of violation. That’s why they are so shaken: that name is to be used with love and respect and care. The Dwarves would only ever expect to hear it from one they love. One they trust. 

Sauron is using those connotations in the most vile manner possible. He is abusing that expectation of trust.

In light of all this Dark Name talk, about thorin over hearing (and then using) Gimli’s Dark Name would be kinda on the skeevy lines??? Like the same ilk of him reading bilbo’s book??? Like, he’s dead and he’s thorin what else is he gonna do but it’s also sooorrttaa Not Done??? Or am I miss reading that scene? Idk basically: what do??? (Btw I love love love all the writing stuffs you do it great :)

Hey Nonnie! Aw, thanks! Glad you’re enjoying!

Yes, it’s a bit – uh, well. The moment between Gloin and Gimli in Rivendell was intensely private. It was a special moment, a reaffirmation of self, before Gloin sent his son away to save the world. 

Thorin overhearing that is a little bit. Well.

Still, he’s dead. It’s not as though he ever thought he would get the chance to speak to Gimli at all, and be known as himself and not as a passing thought in Gimli’s subconscious. He never thought he would get the chance to hear that name from Gimli’s own lips. He thought his affection for Gimli would forever be one-sided, and so was eager for any scraps of Gimli’s life that he could have. 

Thorin using it, though (and above stone! In the open air!!) – that was a bit of a low blow. Naughty Thorin.