oh jeez, Nonnie. This is lovely and also sortakinda ouch… because Dain lost both (in my little headcanon, anyway, it’s both) his parents at the tender age of 32. Nain was butchered by Azog in front of his eyes.
So the image that came to me then was Dain and Bofur sitting together in warm, close lamplight. Dain has several empty tankards in front of him, and clutches another. His face is creased and sad as he wracks his memory. Bofur has a couple of empties sitting to to side, and a notebook resting in front of him, taking down as many details as Dain can remember… which isn’t many. It isn’t many at all.
(He remembers that his father had red hair also, and that Daeris’ eyes were brown. He remembers the smell of his mother’s hair-oil, spicy and pungent, and he remembers the way his father’s body crumpled onto the steps of Khazad-dum, the head lolling on its broken neck)
Bofur is a bro, though, and wouldn’t draw attention to the shaking of the King’s voice. He’s far too kind for that.