Chapter Text
Thror, father of Thrain and grandfather of Thorin, Frerin and Dis Durin, had cursed his line with his greedy obsession with gold.
When he'd found the Arkenstone, it had sought his soul, and Thror had handed it over willingly, falling prey to a Goldlust so severe and all consuming that it would be written about for decades to come.
Any heirs to the line of Durin that came now would be as twisted and cursed as the King Under the Mountain was himself. They would be Dragonborn, cursed to a life in a form that was not intended for them, and they would remain in that state until the day that a person could bring joy back into the lifeless King's heart.
For many a year, the Durin family dared not leave their halls out of fear. But love is a sudden and surprising thing, and soon enough, Thror’s granddaughter Dis had been struck by Cupid and was wishing to be married.
The event was a strange thing, equally celebrated as it was feared, but mostly it was a joyous occasion, for the people of Erebor had little to celebrate these days.
Soon after what was feared by many came to be. Dis fell with child, and bore twins. But they did not take the form of their parents. In fact, they held no resemblance to any Dwarf at all. Fear had been struck into the hearts of the Kingdom, but the love Dis gave her children regardless of their form was quickly adopted by the people as well, and as time passed they found the boys to be no more than a slight nuisance, causing trouble where they could, just as many Dwarflings did.
And so the kingdom became resigned to the curse, and to the fact that the great line of Durin would end with the two children.
That was, of course, until Bilbo Baggins came along.