Tag: dwarves

So what do Fili and Kili’s family in the halls think of them? They never met any of their grandparents or great-grandparents when they were alive, after all.

Tillis and Var are utterly in love with them. They’d forgive them anything. Ever. They laugh at their pranks, sigh fondly at their mischief. Tillis fusses over Fili and tries to lessen his self-appointed guardianship and responsibilities, and Var jokes and tussles about with Kili.

Hrera huffs quite a bit. She pretends utter horror over Kili’s hair, but actually adores getting her paws on him and combing it. It’s such fine hair, why does he never take decent care of it? He’s nearly as bad as that Gimli. Such disarray. Tch.

She is hugely proud of both of them, but will not take any of their ‘nonsense’ as she calls it. She is not above resorting to bribes to get them to behave around her (Broadbeam Dumpling Soup, oh yes!). Now and then she wonders how stern, steely-eyed Dis ever produced such ruffians – and then she glances at merry-faced, laughing Vili, and wonders no more.

Thror is a constant but unobtrusive presence for both the boys. They were very apprehensive at first: Thror is a mighty figure, and everything he did, both the good and the bad, changed the face of the world forever. But this quiet, self-deprecating Dwarrow with the sad eyes isn’t quite what they were expecting. Thror provides a quiet haven for them. He loves them dearly, and wishes he could have seen them grow up, grow old.

Frerin – well <3. Frerin at first resents the heck out of them. He waited so long for his brother, so so long. And these two Dwarrows (and Thorin turns to them before he turns to Frerin, that is unfair) are who Thorin thinks of before anyone else. They are taller than him, and older than him, and will not call him uncle. He doesn’t know where he fits in. He doesn’t know his role for a long time. This time is investigated in more depth in Twelve Months and Fifty Years.

Eventually, as we see, Frerin connects with his brother again. He finds his place in Thorin’s life (death?) again. And he discovers that he and Fili have a lot more in common than their similar looks. Fili becomes a mentor and a sounding-board for Frerin, and Frerin becomes Fili’s ‘little uncle’. Frerin will eventually find a connection with Kili as well.

Fris is carefully mothering of the lads. When she looks at them, she sees her little girl, her Dis, her sweet sparrow. She sees Dis in the set of Fili’s chin, in the flash of Kili’s dark eyes. She is careful not to usurp that place, however. She (Fris is an instrument-maker) brings her lap-harp or her gittern along when they drag out their fiddles, and they play together. She makes sure that Fili eats, and that Kili does not sulk (Fris is good at stopping people from sulking – plenty of practice!).

Thrain, on his good days, is an amused observer of the boys. He comments now and then, but doesn’t really step in to chastise them or curtail their antics. He leaves that to Thorin or Hrera. He finds them hilarious. He’s warm and totally nonjudgmental, and so the boys both find it very easy to confide in him – to complain, or to speak about difficult things. Thrain is a good listener, and will always put down his tools and get out a jug of ale to sit with them as they whine or exclaim or groan.

How did Hrera react when Thrain first introduced her to Fris? And then when the grandkids were born?

Hrera was rather cool. She isn’t a Dragonish or shrewish MIL, but she is rather intimidating.

Over time, however, she began to realise: Fris is clever. VERY clever. And sensible, and compassionate. Fris is, in fact, the perfect counterbalance to her sometimes-impulsive, brave, passionate son. She began to approve heartily of Fris, and even to love her (though for years Fris had no idea, and wondered sometimes if Hrera liked her at all).

Fris didn’t understand why her family goggled at her when Hrera gave her a set of silver clasps for her nameday, made by the Queen’s own hand… and then proceeded to braid them into Fris’ fine, wheat-blond hair. That’s Hrera’s preferred show of soft affection, after all. At the time, Fris had no idea, and sat quietly and slightly nervous as Hrera bound her hair and beard with silver and sapphires.

Hrera adores her grandchildren. ADORES THEM. She was a very doting grandmother. She was absolutely astonished that Fris was able to have three kids within so few years – three children would be quite a large family by Dwarven standards Bombur is an outlier and should not have been counted 😉. And with each little baby she fell deeper in love with being a grandmother. Thorin and Dis were both very like the Durin side of the family – they held grudges, they were headstrong and stubborn, with dark looks and reserved expressions that concealed an absolute whirlwind of passionate emotion. But Frerin was more like Fris in spirit – and more like the warm, generous, demonstrative Broadbeams she remembered from her youth.

Thror has the perfect storm of negative emotions, doesn’t he? Poor sod.

I love Thror. *wibbles*

He’s not had a very happy life, poor thing. Father and brother killed by a dragon in the Grey Mountains, then his wife and his daughter-in-law by Smaug in the Erebor he worked to rebuild, and then Azanulbizar… just. What a life. He created glory, just as his dark-name predicted – but ruin followed, and he blames himself (wrong or right, he blames himself for everything. He was the King of Durin’s Folk – their travails are his responsibility. OH THESE DURIN MEN, says Hrera). 

I consider him to be wry and self-deprecating and rather quiet in manner when he doesn’t have his King-face on. He is fond and proud of Hrera’s way of bossing-to-show-love. I think he shows his affection in small, gentle, quiet ways: a cup of tea placed by an elbow, sharing a silent tankard in solidarity, reaching out to clasp a hand and squeezing briefly, warm and dry and full of meaning. I think he would have a very dark sense of humour. He would be a superb deadpan snarker. 

I think Thror will be helped by seeing his grandson’s journey. He’s not all unhappiness, not at all, but he’s still not in a good place. He’ll find his way. 

Still, in the meantime, Hrera will chivvy and boss him in her most imperious manner until he smiles in amusement and pride at her, private and loving, and say gently, “yes, my dear.” 

how did thrain’s family feel watching him be tortured for years and years? or could they not see it through the starpool because sauron’s magic was obscuring it?

Gimlin-zaram cannot always be directed. Thorin and Fris have a discussion about it, and it is mentioned a few times elsewhere in the fic. Sometimes the pool cannot show you what you wish to see (I suspect dark magic, yes) or sometimes it takes you elsewhere – like it did in Chapter 35. It is sometimes gentle, bathing you in starry warmth. It is sometimes harsh, blinding and as fierce as a supernova. It’s capricious. 

Fris discovered her husband’s ordeal after he arrived in the Halls. She was horror-struck and grieved beyond words. Frerin was frantic and terrified. Thror nearly howled himself hoarse in a renewed storm of grief and guilt. 

Hrera bitterly wept in private, and then she put on her business face and smoothed down her dress. Then she went and combed her son’s thick hair, humming her old Broadbeam songs and touching his face with trembling, tender fingers. 

Thrain still carries deep wounds. He prefers quiet, fine-detail work these days, the better to help him concentrate on the now. He has bad days where he dissociates, where he thinks everything around him is not real but is just another torturous vision dreamed up by Sauron. He has crying moments, and quiet moments, and frightened episodes that lead to lashing out. Fris stands by him in these terrible moments (which are growing fewer and further apart as the stasis of the Halls works its cool healing upon Thrain’s scarred soul), and has learned to draw him back. She wraps him warmly (he was never warm, never), and leaves a cup of fragrant tea – liberally doctored – nearby, to perfume the air. She plays her harp, and sings. She rubs his feet and hands. She breathes his Dark-name in his ear.