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i'm not afraid of an open door

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Dis, child of Thrain, Princess of Erebor, was in a bit of a predicament. Dwalin had said her exotic tastes would come back to haunt her, but she never expected, well…to ever be with child from an elf, to be blunt. After her first husband had died – and wow, wasn’t that a disappointment of a marriage, all that fire between them puttering out barely a week after they exchanged beads, their relationship disintegrating far enough that she barely mourned him when he died in the mine collapse, and even then, only for Fili having to grow up without him – Dis stayed far away from other dwarves when it came to courting, as was proper. Being pregnant with a dead man’s dwarfling helped a lot, to be fair.

But a woman had needs. She had needs.

Fili, of course, came first, but once he was four and old enough not to cry out for her alone, Dis went east, visiting settlements no closer than Bree. She laid with a few handsome men and women, and even a Shireling at one point – oh, Belladonna’s fire and voracity was completely worth the steel dagger stolen from her – before finally crossing paths with an elf by the name of Findel on the road.

An elf, who after hearing Dis’ reasoning for her trip, was quick to offer his services, so long as it did not amount to anything.

Dis…vaguely regretted it, after her belly swelled with child and popped out a dwarfling with pointy ears, telling her which of the several dozen people she’d slept with fathered her babe. But Kili was her precious pebble, and no-one said a word against him – bastards were a common occurrence in dwarrow communities, and Kili grew up as second son anyway. He had no reason to believe he would ever inherit the Crown, so there was no point bringing it up, either.

It seemed, never telling him was coming back to bite her, as the conversation she was having with him turned to his unborn child, from his elven wife, Tauriel.

“-and I have already wed her, and our dwelfling grows within her and, just…oh, I love her, mother. I love her so much,” Kili’s smile would usually brighten her whole world, and Dis can see how he loves her. But that smile dims as her expression doesn’t change. “Mother? Are you not happy for me?”

“It’s not that, Kili…matters of the past, is all. I would tell you some…things, that we- I, never told you.” Dis says in a low voice, ashamed. Kili’s worried face prompts her to continue. “Kili…Vili was not your father.”

He blinks, before his eyes widen in horrified comprehension. “Fili is only my half-brother?” Dis should have predicted this reaction, in hindsight. “Mother, how could you not tell us? It means little, nothing even – but to let me live in the knowledge that I shared a father with my brother? Is my father even alive?”

“I would assume so,” Dis mutters, “Elves live exceptionally long lives. Unless he was part of the Battle of Five Armies and died in it, then aye, your father should be alive-”

“An elf?” Kili’s cry is loud, and she can see how his world is crumbling around him. “I’m a half-elf?” Dis nods, shame fading as she sees her son panic. She stands firm, nodding again. “Where is he from? What is his name? Where- how did you meet? Do you know what intercourse means in elvish culture?”

“I met him on the road, and he gave me the name Findel,” Dis says, words guarded, “and we decided between us, very clearly, that there would be no marital meanings for it.” Kili flushes, and Dis continues on, voice clear. “If you wish to seek him out, I would not tell you no, but you should mayhaps search for him a few years hence – my grandchild should be a top priority.”

“Yes- yes, amad, I know, my child is first, above even Tauriel, she and I have discussed things,” Kili says dazedly, hands running through his beard, “They’ll be more elf than dwarf. Mahal…Mahal. Mother, who else knows?”

“Just you and I, Kili,” Dis murmurs, before reaching to clip him upside the head, “unless your screaming has alerted our guards outside the room.”

“…may I speak of it to others?” He asks, slightly embarrassed. Dis shrugs, before picking up her previously-discarded bag.

“I have no regrets, or shame. It is entirely your decision, but if any should ask, I will not deny. But now to the purpose of our meeting here today-”

Word does spread. It leaves the mountain, even, and it becomes apparent to Dis that mayhaps it is a bigger deal than she originally thought, as rider in gold and white armour rides to the Gates of Erebor seeking an audience with the King Under the Mountain, his sister, and her youngest son and his family. Thorin calls her to his office before the audience is to begin, and purses his lips tightly.

“Sister, none in the Mountain care for your exotic preferences, or Kili’s heritage, but should you have bedded some form of elvish royalty, then I am not dealing with the problems that come with that kind of precariousness.”

Dis rolls her eyes, but inside, her stone heart beats hard.

The elven rider doesn’t remove their helmet as they kneel before Thorin. “Hail, Thorin Bagginshield, King Under the Mountain, and his kin.” ‘Bagginshield’ was a new name for Thorin, given to him by Dain when the Lord of the Iron Hills discovered Bilbo Baggins threw himself in front of Azog’s blade – the one which might have slain their king, before Thorin finally managed to cut off his white, scarred head. Dis thought it unnecessary, but apt, as it also took into account the fact that in hobbit culture, one of a married couple would take the second name of the other.

“Arise,” Thorin acknowledged the greeting.

The elf stood. “I am a representative for Elven Realms of Arda. When news reached the father of Prince Kili of Erebor, that he was indeed a father, a council was held in Lothlorien to discuss the political ramifications of his existence.”

At his words, Thorin immediately groans and stands, “Dis, take over. I am not dealing with any more elven politics for another year – I’ve had enough of it from Thranduil about your grandchild.” He steps down from the throne, standing beside Bilbo and Fili as Dis – on the other side of the throne with Kili and Tauriel – glares at him.

“I hate you,” she says, but moves to stand in front of the throne, only a step down from the stone seat of Kings. “Speak more of elven politics, and please, do not mince words.”

Strangely, at that, the elf’s lip twitches under his helmet, and Dis has a very strong feeling that she would recognise his smug face if he took off his helmet-

“The elven warrior who called himself ‘Findel’ was Glorfindel.” Those dwarrow that would watch the proceedings gasp and mutter, for even in the halls of Durin’s Folk have they heard the tales of the elf who would slay a Balrog. The elf tips his head towards Kili, “To be his son is a great honour and privilege, and he would ask to meet you, Prince Kili, if your mother would allow it.” The elf looks back to Dis, who shakes her head, glaring at him.

“Grow some balls and pop off your helmet already, you cheeky bastard.” And he grins widely, matching Kili tooth for tooth before he sweeps off his helmet, golden hair wafting in a cloud around his shoulders briefly as he bows to her.

“Milady Dis, it’s been a while.”

Dis rolls her eyes, looking to her youngest. “Kili, son of Glorfindel, meet Glorfindel Balrog-Bane. All that political ramification shit was horse manure, he’s just being a nitwit.” Glorfindel laughs, before sweeping over to Dis, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek.

“You haven’t aged a day, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife,” she grumbles, before waving him over to Kili, Fili and Tauriel – the latter of which who kneels, before the happy bastard pulls her up to her feet into a hug, greeting her as daughter before turning to his actual child.

“Well met, Kili Glorfindelion.”

Kili, starstruck, stares at his father. “Hello.”

Dis rolls her eyes again, looking to Thorin, “Just to repeat that, I’m not his wife.” Her brother, who she could sense was about to lose it – in the most hilarious way – about having another elf a part of the royal family, just gives her a Look. She glares. “I’m not his wife!”

“She isn’t, but she is, but she isn’t,” Glorfindel chips in, glancing away from Kili before turning his attention on Fili. “Your Highness, lovely to meet you.”

Fili growls, and Dis swiftly turns around, knowing what’s about to happen – but is too late to stop her oldest from punching the elf in the face. Glorfindel says something under his breath, sounding thoroughly put-out, but there’s no blood, and no broken jaw.

“That’s for my amad.”

“Your amad thinks you shouldn’t have done that,” Dis grits her teeth, before turning Glorfindel to face her, peering at his face with difficulty. “Kneel down, you long-legged demon.”

Glorfindel chuckles, wincing, as he kneels, “I could make up some very saucy replies to that, but I’ll settle with, I’m a demon now?”

“Always were.”

“In the sheets, too?” He questions, eyes glittering before Dis pokes his bruising lip hard enough he winces. Across the podium, Dwalin barks out a laugh.

“Balin owes me – I said Kili don’t got his sense of humour from the Princess.”

“Oh,” Glorfindel glances at her burly friend, grinning painfully, “Don’t be so sure about that. Dis can get very creative with her tongue.” His eyebrows waggle, and Tauriel lets out a short laugh.

“Legolas would be so disappointed.”

“Never meet your heroes,” Dis advises, before motioning for Glorfindel to stand again. “You can kip in my chambers tonight.”

“What if I wanted to leave?” He replies haughtily, straightening his armour. Dis snorts.

“As if you’re leaving any time soon. Only way I’m letting you leave so quickly is if you can replicate what you did eighty-three years ago.”

“Mother!” Fili cries out, “Don’t be so crass!”

Dis gives her son a dirty look, “Get your mind out of the cesspit, Fili Vili’s son – Glorfindel braids hair better than Dori the Guildmaster.” She grabs Glorfindel by his wrist, tugging him away. “Court is adjourned!”

“I’ll come spend some quality time with you later, Kili,” Glorfindel promises as Dis pulls his further into the mountain, “your mother and I have some catching up to do!”

Kili nods vacantly, staring after them, “Okay.” He watches them until they’re out of sight, before looking to Tauriel. “So, apparently my father’s funnier than I am. How can that be, my love?”

Tauriel just laughs.