The healing ward was quiet as Ori lay in the only occupied bed, still recovering from his wounds. Oin had managed to save the leg, stating that Nori's quick reflexes in getting the warg off his brother had been his saving grace. He lay awake now, boredom creeping in as the days dragged on, not even a book to keep him company at present. It was not helping his recovery, all this time to think. It made it all too easy to wonder in fear how his painting had come alive far more brutally than before. He shuddered at the memory, thanking Mahal that his brothers had not fallen victim to his dangerous skill. It was quite clear he would have to take care what he painted in future. If he painted in future, he amended. He wasn't at all sure he ever wanted to go in that room again.

"Oh good, you're awake!" the ever cheerful voice of Nori exclaimed, as his brother poked his head around the door frame before sauntering into the room. The affable dwarf settled himself on the edge of the bed, nearly bursting with good news. "Oin says you can go home this afternoon, isn't that great?" He waited expectantly for his little brothers response.

When it came, it was not at all what he had expected. "Nori?" he said in a small voice. "I'm so sorry."

"Nonsense," Nori waved off his reservations. "It wasn't your fault nadadith."

'Oh but it was,' Ori thought to himself gloomily.

Undaunted by his brothers guilt, Nori proceeded to steer the conversation to happier topics. "As soon as we're home we can all sit down to a celebration dinner, Dori has been cooking all day! There's ale and even some good pipe weed I managed to find at market a couple days ago. It's going to be a real party!" He took a breath, relieved to see Ori offer a tiny smile in response.

The afternoon came quickly, and it was with a jolt of apprehension that Ori allowed his brother to lead him along the halls to their home, limping slightly as he went. Oin had said it would go away with time, but for now it was a constant reminder of the horror that had disturbed their lives. Nori pushed open the door, ushering him inside to be greeted fondly by the eldest in their little family. "Ori!" Dori cried, enveloping him in a crushing hug that the younger stoically endured. "Mahal, it's good to have you home again. Come, sit, the food is almost ready." He turned back towards the table, stopping when he realized Ori had fallen still behind him. The younger dwarf had spotted a section of the stone floor that was stained darker, the discoloration a telltale sign of what had been his blood. Once he understood what it was he pointedly looked away, training unseeing eyes on the nearest wall. Dori shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to say.

"Come now, mustn't let the food get cold!" Nori broke in, scattering the awkward silence to the four corners of the room. He gave Ori's arm a gentle tug, feeling gratified when the younger allowed himself to be led to the table and sat down. "I'll get the ale," he announced, determined to fill the room with sound until it was natural again. With agonizing slowness, talk once again flowed as the brothers worked their way through all manner of meaningless subjects, from a few new arrivals to the mountain to the latest concoction to leave the kitchens courtesy of Bombur. Slowly the three relaxed in each others company, until they were quite enjoying the evening.

A loud knock on the front door disturbed their festivities, and it was with surprise that Dori pulled it open to reveal Thorin. He stepped back quickly, allowing their friend and king inside. "Thorin! How good to see you. Did you come to see Ori?"

"I did indeed," the other acknowledged. Facing the suddenly shy dwarf, he allowed for only a brief moment of hesitation before broaching the subject of his visit. "I want to ask you about your painting," he said abruptly, frowning when Ori paled and ducked his head, his hands beginning to quiver with nerves.

"Thorin, I don't know if this is the best time, the lad's still recovering," Dori said warningly as he stepped in front of his cowering brother.

Realizing it would be futile to continue this line of questioning Thorin reluctantly nodded. "Very well. Would you join me out in the hall for a moment?"

Dori glanced back at Ori, seeming uncertain before Nori sat beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, I'll stay with him," the middle brother reassured him. Nori knew that whatever transpired he would be told later.

Once the two were outside the small dwelling Thorin became quite serious. He wasted no time in making clear his misgivings regarding Ori's newest hobby. "I think he has been dabbling in some sort of dark magic," the king said flatly.

Dori's mouth fell open in shock. "What?! What in Mahal's name makes you think that?"

"His paintings."

Dori's confusion mounted. "You've seen them? He's never shown them to us...not once..." He trailed off with a frown. "What makes you think his paintings are cause for concern?"

Thorin headed back inside, answering over his shoulder as he led the way to Ori's room. "I think it would be better to show you." The two checked to be sure Ori was sufficiently distracted before slipping through the door and closing it behind them.

What Dori saw then caused him to let out a low gasp of surprised delight, while at the same time Thorin was staring at the wall with brow furrowed in confusion. "Why Thorin, these are wonderful!" Dori exclaimed quietly before giving his companion an accusatory glance. "Whatever gave you the idea they are anything but the result of his natural talent?" The two were silent a moment as they took in the sight of the company smiling down on them.

"This only confirms my suspicion, and yet I cannot prove it..." Thorin muttered. "Dori, when I came in here right after the warg attack, the pictures looked nothing like this. Every face on this wall was contorted in fear, and I was very concerned as to why your brother would paint such a thing."

"But he obviously didn't," Dori protested. "It's as clear as day that they're happy. How could a picture change?"

"How indeed? I would swear on my life that what I saw was just as real as what we are seeing now. I just don't know how to explain it. And yet..." Thorin looked now to the canvas still resting on the easel in the center of the room. The bloodstains were still there. "Look!" he cried, pointing to it as he earnestly tried to convince his friend of this truth. "That is not Ori's blood, he painted that. I suspect he painted a lot more than that too, before it attacked."

"You think Ori painted the warg?" Dori returned slowly, giving him a look that suggested he thought the other was cracking. Thorin just glared at him, tired of this pointless banter. "Alright," Dori sighed. "Let's say I believe you, only because this whole affair is full of strangeness. I will try and talk to him later, but not now. If what you say is indeed true, it's highly likely he knows it, and that would explain his fear."

Thorin accepted this response with all the grace he could muster, but could not help a last word of caution as he allowed himself to be ushered to the door. "Do not leave things too long. We must get to the bottom of this, for everyone's safety."

When Dori rejoined his brothers at the table it was in time for Ori to announce that he was tired and ready for bed. Both brothers could sense that he wished to get out of talking about the reason for Thorin's visit, and yet he did not hurry to his room. After wringing his hands for a moment he spoke to the floor, his voice so quiet they almost didn't hear him. "Can I sleep with you?" He looked up then, eyes silently pleading for clemency.

Dori's heart melted as he offered his brother a much softer hug than the one they shared earlier. "Why don't we all sleep out here in front of the fire?" he suggested, smiling when his offer was met with a shy grin from Ori and an enthusiastic cheer from Nori.


Thus the pattern of their days were set. Mornings and afternoons were spent out and about, one or both of the brothers taking charge of keeping Ori occupied with menial tasks. Following this came a hearty meal before gathering in front of the warm hearth for a night of close familial comfort. Days blended into weeks, almost an entire month going past before something changed.

Everything about this new day seemed different from the start. Ori woke up feeling particularly cheerful, and was even happier when he noticed with a shock that his limp was gone. He stamped his foot a few times experimentally before proclaiming it good as new, not an ounce of pain remaining. Add to that an especially pleasant dream from the night before about a beautiful maiden, and Ori was certain that today was a day for fresh beginnings. This was why he found himself inevitably standing outside his bedroom door, his hand on the cool knob as he gave himself a mini pep talk. 'You can do this, there's nothing to fear in there,' he thought.

All at once he gave the door a shove open, and looked around. A feeling of pure pleasure filled him as he saw that his paintings were once again happy and eagerly nodding and winking at him. They almost seemed to be encouraging him as he headed for his easel, greeting him like a long lost friend. He took the warmth of their presence into him and let it fill him with gladness. The first thing he did was to remove the stained canvas from the room, tossing it into the hall beside the firewood like a bad token. His room cleansed, he stood still for a moment, getting his thoughts in order. A small voice whispered at the back of his head to do the one thing he had been afraid of for so long, and he was feeling just happy enough that he decided to listen.

It was time to show his family what he could do, to finally prove that his childhood imaginings were so much more than they had seemed. He had heard his brothers whispering in the night when they thought he was asleep, about how Thorin believed he was involved with dark magic. He had been hard pressed not to laugh at the time and give himself away, but he would not let such rumors fester any longer. He was relieved when he left his room to find both his siblings chatting in the main room, glad that he would not have the time to lose his nerve. He walked over to the table and stood tall, silently commanding their attention.

"Ori? What is it?" Dori asked first, inwardly pleased to see the signature smile that had returned to his brother's face. Nori did not speak, instead eying him critically as if he were deciphering a secret merely by looking at him. He had always been the sharper of the brothers and Ori felt no doubt that Nori already guessed what was about to happen.

"I need to show you something," Ori announced firmly. "Something I have failed to show you for all the years of my life." Turning, he did not wait for a reply as he led the way to his room. The brothers followed warily, equal parts happy that he had returned to the space and nervous as to why.

With no further explanation Ori took up his brushes and began to paint. Swiftly a flowering vine took shape across the canvas, an innocent form that he felt would serve to convince the two of his skill without unduly frightening them. Dori began to grow impatient as he continued to ignore them, so focused was he on his work to bring it to perfection.

"Ori, what...?" the elder began, frowning when Ori held up a hand for patience.

"Just a moment," he murmured, ending with a last brush stroke before stepping back. He had gotten the feeling again, that slight tingling that told him the painting considered itself finished and was ready to come alive. Sure enough, vine began to separate from the canvas, growing out of it and curling down around the easel towards the ground. Beautiful flowers bloomed along its length in all the colors he had painted, and the brothers were shocked, mouths hanging open at the spectacle. It was as if a switch had been flipped, for even as the picture in front of them came alive, the others on the wall began to awaken too, sensing their master's need. Faces smiled brightly, winking and talking amongst themselves in voices loud enough to make their audience jump in fright.

"Ori?" Nori breathed, shocked despite his earlier suspicions. "How is this possible?" Beside him Dori just stuttered incoherently, failing to find the words he needed.

Ori smiled shyly. "Do you remember when I was little and I told you that my pictures would move?" he asked them.

"Aye," Nori replied slowly, face already showing signs of understanding. Dori managed a stiff nod as well.

"They really did. All those years I could do this, but as I have gotten better and older they have gotten more lifelike. This power, whatever it is, has gotten stronger." He sobered then. "That is why I was so sorry for what happened with the warg. It was my fault, but I had no idea at the time that I could do that. Until that day my pictures had done no more than move, they never left the frame."

"You know what this means don't you?" Dori asked, startling the others when he finally found his voice. They offered him a questioning glance, uncertain what he was driving at. "You must be careful what you paint," he said forcefully, the stern look on his face serving to bring the point home.

"You probably should also keep this a secret," Nori offered. "Just between us." The others nodded in agreement. "Thorin as well I suppose," he added thoughtfully. "He already suspects and I imagine he will question us if we do not tell him," he finished off.

"But enough of that," Dori cried with an unexpected smile as he shattered the solemn moment. "Paint something else!" Ori laughed, pulling another canvas towards him obligingly. The trio spent the rest of the day watching in rapt fascination as Ori's pictures came to life one by one, filling the small home with much needed cheer.


With the telling of the secret and the return of Ori's happiness, the bond between the three brothers was only strengthened. Even as they went back to their normal routines, and their normal beds, they were closer than ever. Ori's pictures had brought them together, offering them a constant source of amusement. None were surprised when slowly the other members of their old company were entrusted with the truth, beginning with Thorin. One by one they had been ushered in with the most secret of smiles, only to leave feeling amazed at what they had seen. Usually with a complementary new plant, trinket or small animal.

The only thing that now marred the complete joy running through the house was the dream. Ori's nights filled with a growing vision of a maiden, her smiling face becoming clearer by the day until he felt he could almost touch her and hear her voice. All without having met her at all. He was left feeling frustrated when morning came, ever wondering. Who was she?


Author's note: I am ever so sorry for taking so long to post this. I struggled with getting this in the order I wanted it several times, before finally settling with this. It is more or less what I originally had in mind, and I am happy with it. You may have noticed the subtle cliffhanger at the end here *grins mischievously*. I promise I will do my best to have that resolved for you next chapter, which will be out with much less delay than the last one.