morvidra:

Ballad lyrics for day one of Dain2k15:

Dain, the Erebor Cat King

(Based on “Gus the Theatre Cat” by T.S.Eliot, and may be sung to the music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, if you have two people with the right vocal ranges. I didn’t. XD)

Dain is the king of Erebor
He’s called (as I ought to have told you before)
“The Ironfoot”, “son of Nain”
But he dislikes fuss so much that we usually call him just “Dain”

His beard is quite silvered, he’s lived a long time
And he suffers from stiffness that makes his joints ache
And his Ironfoot lingers where it used to stride
Though to not be seen faltering’s a matter of pride

For he still is the dwarf that he was in his prime
When his name became famous in song and in rhyme
And sometimes he’ll gather with friends for a beer
And as the night passes they’ll weep and they’ll cheer

At memories of battles when they were so young
And when the third barrel has loosened their tongues
Then someone might ask him to kindly explain
How at Azanulbizar he saw Durin’s Bane
Though he never speaks of it, the look in his eyes
Is enough to turn drunken dwarves sober and wise

But his favourite memory, as he seldom tells
Is when he was but the Lord of the Iron Hills

“In my time every possible foe I have fought
From elf-lords to goblins and warg-riding orcs
When faced with a cave-troll I never turned tail
For an Iron Hills dwarf knows not how to quail

“I’ve stared down advisors when they were not right
And I’ve gone incognito to join in bar fights
I’ve tried to be just and to deal without debt
But show scorn unrelenting to weasels I’ve met

“For a message from Mordor I don’t give a hoot
And I threw out the Nazgul and put in the boot
I’ve forged friendships with Dale and with Mirkwood as well
And even the Shire where Hobbits still dwell
But my favourite memory, that I’d never sell
Is when I was but the Lord of the Iron Hills”

Then if someone will bring him a barrel of ale
He will tell how he once pulled a pig by the tail
And some bright young dwarflings will creep to his back
And pretend to be foemen and swiftly attack

And he’ll say “Now these dwarrows, they do not get trained
“As we did in the days when the Oakenshield reigned”
But all the young dwarrows, ignoring his frown
Will pull on his beard, and grab at his crown
He loves to regale them with stories and jokes
And to bribe them with cookies until they might choke

“This Erebor kingdom is all very well
But it can’t hold a candle to what I recall
My dearly-held memory, where I long to dwell
When I was but the Lord of the Iron Hills”