The Sacrifice: The Story of Dis, Part 4 ~Miriel 

Disclaimer: All people and places are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings.

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Before the day was done, the head of Azog was taken and set on a stake.  There were no feasts or songs that night.  Their dead were beyond count or grief, and barely half their number could still stand or had hope of healing.

Night passed, and the new day dawned.  The Dwarves were now faced with the great labor of the dead.  First they stripped their dead, so the Orcs should not come there and so win there a great store of weapons and mail.  It is said that every Dwarf that went from that battlefield was bowed under a heavy burden.  Then they built many pyres and burned all the bodies of their kin.  There was a great felling of trees in the valley, which remained bare ever after, and the reck of the burning was seen in Lórien.[1]     

Later, when the dreadful fire was in ashes, the Dwarves began to depart to their own countries.  Dáin was leading his father’s people back to the Iron Hills.

Dáin came to bid Thráin farewell.  Thráin had one eye blinded beyond cure, and he was halt with a leg wound, however his spirit could not be quenched.

Dis and Thorin stood beside Thrain.  Thrain had been much less upset when he saw her than Dis had expected.  Dis knew it was because he was relieved that she was alive, and she suspected also that he was delighted that his daughter had come into battle, alone of all the Dwarven women.

“I am proud of you, Dis,” he had said.

Dis could not remember him ever having said that to her before. Several days ago, she was simply another woman, albeit the granddaughter of their former king, but yet still a woman.  And now she stood in a place of honor beside her father.

“Farewell, Dáin.”  Thráin said.

“Farewell.”  Dáin said.  He then turned and led his father’s, and now his, people out of Azanulbizar.  Dis watched until the glint of their helms disappeared.

Thráin and Thorin had just finished a conversation when she turned back.

Thráin smiled and looked with pride upon his daughter.  “Well, Dis, are you ready to go back to our people?”

“Yes” she answered, and then hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Well, I was hoping to see Mirrormere closely before we left...”

Thorin stepped forward.  “I, too, Father.”

Thrain looked at them with the joy and pride only a father could have with his children.  He thought of Frerin, and an expression of sorrow crossed his face.  He sighed and smiled at his two children.  “All right, be off with you then,” he said kindly.

Dis and Thorin walked together along the ancient path to the Gate of Moria.  Dis could not believe that it had only been several days since she had first walked this path.  It seemed like a lifetime. 

Thorin offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully.  They had bandaged her side wound well, yet it would take time to heal.

Thorin cleared his throat.  Dis waited, knowing from experience that he was preparing to make a speech of some sort.  Experience did not fail her, as he began to speak almost immediately.

“Dis,” he said quietly, “Why did you save me?”

“What?” she said in surprise.  This was an unexpected question.

“Why did you save me?

Dis tried to dodge the question.  “You would have done the same for me.”

“Yes, but that is different.”

“Why?”

Thorin sighed.  “Dis, ever since we talked that day in the woods, I have felt horribly guilty.  I was so...” he hesitated.

“Arrogant?”  Dis offered helpfully.

His lips twitched.  “Yes, arrogant.  All throughout the battle I was thinking about you and what I said and, Dis, I am afraid that I owe you an apology.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Now back to you.  Why did you save me?”

Dis hesitated.  She had two choices.  One was to continue to dodge the question and invent false reasons.  The other was to tell Thorin the truth, something that she had never told anyone.  She looked up at Thorin.  He was studying her face; waiting for her to speak.  He did not look anything like the arrogant brother that she knew.  War had changed him.

Dis took a deep breath.  “Understand, Thorin, I have never told anyone what I am about to tell you.” 

She told him everything, from how she had been the cause of Mother’s death that fateful day, entering battle in hopes of redeeming herself, Frerin’s death, and finally to saving Thorin.  Throughout the whole story, he simply listened attentively. 

“And that, Thorin,” she finished, “Is why I could not be he cause of another’s death.”

Thorin was quiet.  Dis took a deep breath and let it out.  She felt at peace.  It was as if pouring her heart out to Thorin had eased her burden and taken away some of her guilt.

They walked along in silence for several more minutes before Thorin spoke.  “You have a good heart, Dis.  You seem to understand people and their natures fairly well.  But in this you went astray.  You should have realized that the sacrifices that Mother and Frerin made for you were out of love.  They never would have wanted you to carry such a heavy burden of guilt.”

“Thank you,” she said in a choked whisper.  She could not say more.  A lump formed in her throat as she contemplated Thorin’s words.  Two people had loved her so much that they had given up their lives for her, that she may live.  She held back tears.  She loved them both so much.  So much...

She and Thorin were silent the rest of their walk to Kheled-zâram.  Several minutes later, Dis cried out in delight.  “Oh, Thorin, look!  ‘Tis Durin’s stone!”

They ran together down the long green slope.  Despite the battle that had taken place, the vale around Mirrormere had remained unmarred.

They came to a standing stone and looked up.  It was a single column, broken at the top.  It was cracked and weather worn, and the faint runes upon its side could not be read.[2]

Dis traced the runes with her finger.  “This pillar marks the spot where Durin first looked into Mirrormere,” she whispered in awe.

“And let us look ourselves into Mirrormere, ere we go!” said Thorin impatiently.

Dis came to stand beside Thorin.  They stooped over the dark water.  Its face was still and unruffled.  At first they could see nothing.  Then slowly they saw the forms of the encircling mountains mirrored in profound blue, and the peaks were like plumes of white above them; beyond there was a space of sky.  There like jewels sunk in the deep shone glinting stars, though sunlight was in the sky above.  Of their own stooping forms no shadow could be seen.

“O Kheled-zâram fair and wonderful!” said Thorin.  “There lies the crown of Durin till he wakes.  Farewell!”  He bowed, and began to turn away.[3]

Dis stared intently into the water.  “Thorin, wait,” she whispered intently.

“What is it?” he asked, turning back.

Dis grabbed his arm and pointed.

In the water, there were the mountains; there were the stars; and there was the shadowy shape of a person where their reflections would be.  As they watched, features began to form, and the distinct outlines of a face appeared.  It was Frerin.  He looked at them, smiled, and raised his right hand in a silent farewell.  Then he was gone.

            Thorin and Dis blinked and looked at each other.  They both knew what the other had seen.  No need was there for words.

            Thorin was the first to turn and slowly walk up back to the road.

            Dis looked one last time into the water.  A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

“Farewell, Frerin,” she whispered, then followed Thorin back onto the road.

Finis