Warning : I'm not an native English speaker. I just translated my fanfic Au Coeur de la Pierre, the original French version. So feel free to tell me if a word is misused, or anything related to my English (or writing) skills. Any critique is good for me. Thanks !
Heart of Stone
1 - Smaug's Fire
They've been running on the slopes of the Misty Mountains, escaping goblins just in time to meet Azog. From the frying-pan down into the fire. They'd be dead, under the swords, into the flames, or by falling, if not for Gandalf the Grey and his eagle friends. Thorin could have been lost too : Kili saw him lying on the stone of the Eagle's peak, immobile, dead or so it seemed. The landscapes didn't matter anymore : what could they do, if their leader abandoned them ? Where will they go ? Would there be any sense in their quest left ? Kili have thrown a worried glance at his elder brother Fili, hardly hiding his feelings. Thorin Oakenshield could not forsake them. Not now, not here, for they had traveled a long way, and their journey was but over.
Silently, Kili observed the wizard as he bent over his King, slowly put his hand on his face, and called him back to life. From the young dwarf's point of view, it was really what it looked like. Was Gandalf able to keep death at bay ? Just how great were his wizard powers ? They were lucky he was with them, and not only for adding a fourteenth member in the company, Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit, thirteen being an unlucky number. Gandalf was so powerful ! They would need him before the end, despite his grumpiness. After all, Kili didn't even know how many dragons Gandalf had killed ! And it was not that important. The young dwarf felt a smile growing on his face, stretching his light beard to his ears. He rushed to help Thorin get up, but he quickly saw that his proud leader wasn't needing him. He was standing, looking at Bilbo as if he wanted to eat him whole. Kili stayed back : he knew more than that. Thorin didn't seem really in a good mood, as he threw to the Hobbit :
« You ! You threw yourself in without even thinking ! You could have been killed ! I've always said you don't belong with us ! You can't fight or even protect yourself… »
Bilbo was not the only one astonished by Thorin's words. Was he really serious ? He was the one nearly killed, threwing himself in the heat of the battle, wasn't he ? Kili would have said something, but it was long since he knew not to upset his uncle. Better not attract attention… Even if we could easily throw Thorin's words at his majestic face.
But when he talked again, it was most… unexpected.
« … And I was never more wrong. »
Thorin walked to Bilbo, and hugged him. Without the hobbit, his head would have rolled, as he was lying still, facing Azog. Such a pityful ending for a dwarf that ambitious. It wouldn't have fitted at all, and Thorin's was the first to agree. Nonetheless, this misadventure remembered Fili, still a little too reckless, that they weren't invincibles. He sighed, turned to his little brother, and for just a while, hold his hand tight.
Of course they weren't invincibles. Thorin had already told them, a long time ago, in the confortables and warm halls of the Blue Mountains.
In these times, Kili and Fili were nothing but dwarf youth, children of the Mountain. Yet too young to work, they'd run around all day, messing up grown-up dwarves business as perfect little bugs. Neither Fili nor Kili felt tired this evening, though. They gathered, with their mother and other relatives around the fire : this was a special night, after all. Durin's Day : The dwarven new year ! Grown-ups had drunk and eaten a lot, but now they were singing a sad song with their cavernous voices. They were talking about Misty Mountains, a forgotten land and trees on fire. Kili wasn't understanding it all, and gazed at this elder brother, waiting for him to explain. But Fili was lost in his thoughts, unusually silenced. He wasn't saying anything, being the talkative one ! Certain he wouldn't have a decent discussion with his brother this night, Kili turned to his mother, Dis, who hugged him gently.
« Thorin… Maybe should we tell Kili tonight ? It's late, and he's still up. »
Kili's uncle turned to him, judging him severely with his intense cold blue eyes. But if he thought Kili being too young yet, he didn't mention it.
« Yes. Fili already knows our story. It's his brother's turn now. »
With a voice coming from the caves of his throat, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, spoke these words.
« Dale was pleasant human village, even in the end of it. You would find anything you want, coming from every corner of the Middle-Earth. The men town was the link between Erebor, dwarven kingdom, and the rest of the world. Even when decline announced itself, Dale still was thriving. Oh, most of us now weren't born to see the golden age of the town, in the Lonely Mountain's shade. Like you, Kili, they didn't know these wealth and plenty times, this carefreeness, the times when dwarves and men and elves lived in harmony, bound by friendship and trade. These times were over, though it was not an steep fall for Dale. Not at this moment. It was more like a long and slow decline, so slow we didn't see it coming, except for some dwarves, not totally blind facing the clouds in the horizon.
And yet, there they were, these clouds of fate, darkening Erebor's future, still invisibles. This day was bright and clear, with sun shining in the sky. Kids were racing in the streets, or playing with kites. I was patrolling on the walls, watching down on Dale. This town… It was like a cristal blooming on earth, all in brick flesh and glass bones. Towers of men wanted to reach for the sky or so it seemed, but all in vain. For Dale would always be minuscule comparing to the Lonely Mountain.
Even the main door of Erebor was gigantic. And always is, for what there's left. Imposing, it's flanked with two enormous dwarf statues armed with battle-axes. Because of the Mountain's doors' dimensions, and of its two stony guardians, men often asked us if we needed to counterbalance something. But you have to know this as an image of our proudness, our grandeur. The grandeur of our civilisation, if not of our bodies. There's no need to be more than five feet tall to do great things. Dwarves make the best swords, and the finest jewels, no matter what pointy ears say.
With years, with centuries going, we amassed an impressing treasure beneath the Mountain, even for our own kind. Erebor was a real safe, but Thror, my grand-father, and your great-grand-father, ended losing sight on reality. We attracted too much attention, and what happened next was most unavoidable. Terrible, but unavoidable.
A great gust blew pines in the forest. We were enveloped by a warm wind, so unnatural it would mean only one thing : we fueled the desire of one of the worst living creature. Coming from the north, the great fire-spiter Smaug unleashed his wrath upon Dale. »
Kili shivered, and turned to his mother, who didn't even move. He seemed terrified : his uncle was really speaking of a dragon ? It wasn't cold in the heart of the welcoming stone, but little Kili was shuddering hard. Thorin's words weren't just a story, he knew it. Even if he's been told a hundred times epic dwarves stories, those remained distant ancestors, who maybe never had existed at all. To Kili, those characters weren't as real as his uncle, standing here, just across the fire, his sharp gaze fixed on him. What he was saying, he had seen it. A true story, really. And it was just scarier to think about it. Kili nearly saw the red fire Smaug spitted in Thorin's eyes. There he saw the blazing flames, the suffering, the helplessness facing the beast. Thorin had a very expressive gaze: he just needed one glance to quiet a noisy group, and nothing more to inspire respect, and fear. Kili was already very full of respect for his uncle, but now he was learning to fear Smaug the dragon. Fili, the older one, already knew that story, and told him nothing. At the moment, Kili felt a little hurt, before knowing why : turning to his brother, he saw that he too was afraid. Their mother has lain a large wool blanket on their knees, for the night was already over them. Some of the older dwarves were well tired, and kept awake only by the strength of Thorin's voice. The fire would soon be off too. Crawling under the blanket, Fili could not refrain from taking Kili's hand, and inextricabily snarling his fingers with his.
« Smaug didn't need to destroy the men town. There was nothing there which interested him. Nothing important. The men of Dale were slaughtered, burned, the stones thrown down, turned to dust and ashes. All in vain. What the beast wanted was Thror's treasure. The gold and jewels under the Mountain. He wanted Erebor and made it his dwelling, his precious nest. And that's the reason why he threw us out of our home. I was there, I saw him go through Erebor's gigantic doors like they were made out of paper, I saw him enter, breaking the stone and trampling over dwarves defending the city. But what could we do, in front of such a monstruosity ? Such cruelty and violence ? We tried to resist, without success. Smaug entered Erebor, and didn't get out since. For when a dragon sits on his treasure, it's for his life.
We got out of the Mountain, beating a retreat. Then I saw Green Wood elves on the hill, lead by the Elf-King Thranduil. I shouted, asked them to help us, but they wouldn't come. They didn't lift their little finger while Dale people and Erebor dwarves were dying right under their eyes. The town was razed, the doors of the Mountain sealed. And for us… We were wandering on the road. We went from one town to another, selling our skills to ungrateful humans. We didn't have a choice, for we didn't have a mine, nor gold, nor home anymore. We walked to the ancient halls of dwarves, Khazad-Dûm, but it was also lost, filled with orcs and goblins and things even worse. There was a terrible battle, a fierce fight. We repelled the orcs that day, but it cost us too much. King Thror died on this day, and yet, it was obvious the Moria was still unatteinable. So we got on the road again, until we found a safe shelter, here, in the Blue Mountains. »
The brothers were closer than before, and had a look around : the older dwarves seemed really moved. Both of them were just sassy youths, not knowing what it's like not to have a roof, or rather a Mountain, over their heads. Kili suddenly felt like an idiot. Absolutely stupid. He was remembering all he could have said, without even thinking about it. To him, Blue Mountains were his home, but now he was told this wasn't quite true. Not for everyone. It was too hard for the older dwarves to forget Erebor's splendeur. Impossible not to remember such a wonder. And impossible for Thorin not to think about taking it back, by force if he must.
« We lost Erebor because of a dragon's greed, and elves' cowardice. We couldn't take back Khazad-Dûm because of orcs… »
Thorin gazed down into the fire, and didn't seem to keep on talking. As the rest of the dwarves, who besides stayed desperately silenced. Kili didn't need to be a grown-up to guess they were stirred. Especially his uncle Thorin. He was furious, against the dragon, against the elf, against the orcs, against himself. For he could not do anything to prevent all of this. And he was sad also, because he couldn't offer his people more than a life far away from their home-Mountain. Kili understood this. This was the reason why he didn't say anything, no more than Fili. He too was understanding.
« Well, it's time. »
Their mother came back, and was gently shaking them. They fell asleep after their uncle's story, enveloped in the meditative silence that followed. Speaking of Thorin, he was still there, with the same placid look upon his majestic face. A Prince without a crown remains a Prince.
« Good night Uncle. »
Fili and Kili said it, one after another, with a far less innocent way as usual. A good thing for their mother, who was thinking it was time for them to grow a bit. They lied side by side, curled up. There was enough space for both of them in their bedroom though, but their mother wasn't even surprised anymore. Those two ! They were real twins, born five years apart. Dis wouldn't have thought, seeing them, her sons would get on with each other so well. Physically, they were night and day : the blackness of Kili's hair was contrasting with Fili's golden caramel. Even the colour of their eyes was different ! Only their great complicity proved they were brothers.
Kili was moving while dreaming. It was worse than a parasite bag ! Fili was used to sleep with his little brother, but that was not normal. Bothered, he swang, still a little numb, but it was useless. He still felt his brother Kili next to him, kicking and punching around. Tired, and upset, Fili get up for good, and shook his brother.
« Kili… Kili ! »
The younger one looked lost for a moment, his eyes not clearly open, his gaze wandering. Then he recognized his brother, and the place where they were.
« Huh… ? What's wrong ? » he asked.
« Are you kidding me ? You just can't stop moving ! I can't sleep because of you ! »
Kili was silenced for a while, obviously sorry to disturb his elder brother. It was not a rare thing, Fili being upset against him, always exagerating though not for a long time. Nonetheless, everytime, Kili has got this sad look upon his face. He didn't do it on purpose, really, so he apologised humbly.
« Sorry brother. I won't do it anymore. »
And it was at this moment, when Kili turned away, his eyes filled with blue, Fili sighed, and stroked his idiot of a brother's head. He was sleeping. It was obvious he wasn't responsible for all his moving thing… But when Fili complained, Kili apologized. It was inevitable.
« It's okay. » Fili answered with a soft voice. « You had a bad dream ? »
Slowly, Kili nodded.
« Yes… It's because of the dragon… »
Hearing that, Fili couldn't refrain from hugging his brother. Maybe he was still too young for this, after all. Even if he was a dwarf, with all the mental and physical strength it implies, Kili was still a child. More, he was Thorin's nephew, the King without a Mountain. A huge weight just fell upon his shoulders. Fili knew it well… He got through that too.
« I see… It's okay. Don't think about it anymore. »
« Easy for you to say… So, it's true ? A big dragon took our homes ? »
« Are you having doubts about your uncle's words ? »
Fili could not help having a little smile saying that. But Kili wasn't amused : of course he didn't think Thorin was a liar ! How could he ?
« No… No. But what will we do ? If it's our home… We can't just let a… there. »
« Kili, let's say our home is here, in the Blue Mountains. It's easier. We could never kill this dragon, nor get him out of there. »
« So we'll stay like that ? Without doing anything ? »
No, that was not an option, and Fili knew it. Their uncle would do something to get back his legacy, his true Mountain, the one he was born under. He wouldn't stand living without even trying to take back what was his, and his people's.
« Uncle Thorin found us another home, Kili. A quiet and safe place, where we don't bother anyone, and where we can live in peace. A true home, under the Mountain. »
« What if the dragon chase us here ? »
Fili sighed again, and looked at his brother, right in his eyes. He thought he could put an end to this discussion, and get back to sleep. It was completely stupid : the wealth of Erebor was without comparison. It would be reallly ill-luck if Smaug moved his bones from the Lonely Mountain to here, at the other side of Middle-Earth. But Fili hadn't considered the fact that Kili would be truly terrified. He took his face in his hands, and whispered to him :
« We'll protect you. I will. »