The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne

Dís - thought to be a guardian vætt of a particular group, person, or place; often portrayed as the spirit of a deceased female ancestor.

• Balin is one of those who linger after the funeral. He watches as the cavern empties and stays even after most of the candles have been put out, only the ceremonial ones still burning. He feels as if his eyes are either constantly wet or burning, but he doesn’t truly care. There is a mountain to run, he knows, at least until Dáin has settled in. And he knows the work will distract him in a way, just like it always has. But no matter how many papers he will look through, how many decrees he will draft and speeches he will write, they will never right what’s wrong. After the funeral he stays and talks to them, like he will do often in the future. He apologizes to all three dwarrows that have returned to stone, for not being able to help, not being able to save them. He also thinks of Dís and does not know if he will ever be able to look her in the eyes again.
• Dwalin almost didn’t come to the ceremony itself. He only goes because he knows how important it is and because he would never forgive himself if he didn’t - and neither would Dís. Since he loved Thorin like a brother it is only fair that he is there in her stead. He stands stoic throughout it, not ashamed of the tears on his cheeks even though his head is bowed and he doesn’t dare to look up. The strong dwarrow has been broken for all to see. He leaves almost immediately after they are done, cannot stand to be down there for longer. He will return and he knows - later or on another day when he is drunk, to shout his throat raw and rave and slam his fist into the wall until it bleeds. And maybe, in a few decades, if death on the battlefield hasn’t found him then like he wants it to, he will be the one to guard the tombs. But not now. Now the memory of their deaths, his failure, is throttling him and he has to get away and be alone with the hole in his heart.
• Óin lingers, too, but not as long as Balin who is the last. He keeps wondering whether there was anything that he could have done differently - had he just been up there on Ravenhill in time, had he just been faster, more proficient…he is a healer, he should be able to heal and yet he has to watch so many of them die. After the funeral he goes straight back to the healer’s tents still outside and sets to working furiously, hoping that he will at least be able to save one more life. He doesn’t stop until he is so exhausted that he almost passes out.
• Glóin stands close to his brother, trying to reassure himself he’s still there. He is still in shock and denial from what has happened and all the songs seem strangely distant. He knows he will get over their deaths in time, just like the Line of Durin has somehow always prevailed throughout all tragedy, but he also knows it will leave a scar on his soul that will never quite heal. He has always looked after money and finances but during the ceremony he finds he doesn’t care, no matter the expense, he will honour their fallen king and princes with everything he has. He tried to go back to his ledgers afterwards but fails and goes to search for his brother instead, catching Óin as he almost falls in exhaustion and convincing him to sleep.
• Dori doesn’t know what to do. He is used to keeping his fingers busy most of the times, especially when he is stressed - sowing or knitting helps him to calm down. So he fiddles a little with his clothes during the funeral and his fingers itch to move, to do something. There should be a faint sense of pride inside him at how they have managed to procure rich and royal clothing for Thorin, Fíli and Kíli so quickly, but instead there is only regret and tears in his eyes. He needs to be useful afterwards as well, asks everyone if they need help with repairing something, old clothes, tents, bandages whatever. His hands keep moving but his mind is empty.
• Nori needs to be moving. He can barely keep in place during the funeral, fidgeting a little like his older brother. He is also one of the first ones to leave and just begins wandering through the mountain - he has always been a restless dwarf, in need of moving around, being busy. Now he doesn’t truly have a goal - Erebor has never been home to him, he cannot chase memories like some of the others do. But he can still explore and so he does. For days after the funeral he goes missing most of the time, roaming the mountain inside and outside, exploring it until he knows every nook and cranny, only showing up for evening meals with the company where he never answers to their worried questioning of where he has been.
• Ori stands perfectly still during the funeral. Somehow he has lost his fidgeting somewhere between Ered Luin and Erebor, carved in two by an orc’s axe on the battlefield. He holds his head high, not ashamed of his tears. But neither can he look at the stonen caskets in front of him - somehow he cannot imagine those that lie inside. He still hears the princes’ laughter and jests, Thorin’s stern voice and somehow it seems impossible that they will be quiet forever now. He returns to his and his brother’s quarters afterwards, in need of the silence and solitude for a while. It is here that the tears truly break.  
• Bofur does not feel like singing. He does, like he all do, the traditional chants of transition, peace and grief, but somehow the words feel dead on his lips even though the song from so many dwarven throats is magnificent. But he cannot help but hear the voices of those dead in the choir and know how they will never sing again and he thinks back of Bilbo’s sitting room and a roaring fire in the hearth and the song of their people in the air. He stays for a while afterwards and helps with cleaning up and leading people although he does not speak to anyone for a long, long while and it takes a long time before his songs are heard in the mountain once more.
• Bifur feels trapped between so many people. He would have left a while ago but he doesn’t, not this time. His fingers twitch and move, forming half-said words that remain quiet. He has promised himself he would stay for them although as soon as it is proper, he hurries back to his own provisional quarters in the mountain. He wishes he could articulate his grief properly, could shout it out or sing it out with the others, but even the Khuzdul words garble in his head today and he can do nothing but move his fingers in frantic motions, sometimes talking, sometimes whittling, sometimes walking up and down in his room until he exhausts himself.
• Bombur keeps his hand clasped in front of him during the ceremony, suddenly filled with the need to appear smaller. He has never truly felt this useless before - of course he has seen people die, but not like this. It should never have been like this. The mountain seems meaningless to him without its rightful ruler on the throne and incredibly empty. They are being lauded as heroes but Bombur feel anything but; the only thing he truly wants is to see his family again, feel his partner’s arm around him and hold his children close. He feels shallow and selfish for thinking so since the Lady Dís’ family is all here, returned to cold stone. He goes and helps out in the kitchens when the ceremony is done although for a while, he even loses the taste for good food and cannot bring himself to revel in what he has once loved so much.
• Bilbo Baggins feels like he is in a place that is strangely wrong and right. The dwarves have accorded him a high honour and named him their hero, Dáin one of the first to thank him for all that he has done. So he stands in the first row, feeling as small as he never has before as the strange chants rise to the ceiling of the cavern around him, rituals that he is unfamiliar with and had never wanted to learn like that. He thinks about how little he truly knows about the dwarves and regrets that cannot stay to learn more; but he also knows that he would not be able to remain here, not with his friends, his grief, so close at hand. He needs the rolling hills of the Shire to heal. Therefore, he lingers only shortly when the last note is sung and returns to his rooms to pack his things right away - maybe he will be able to slip out before most of them notice.