The next three days had passed similarly for the dwarves. The delicate snowflakes had gradually built up into mounds of white on the windowsills and the small strip of the yellowing grass in the outside world the dwarves were permitted to see through their prison gate.

The nights were long and very dark. Sleeping had become a rare occurrence for Fíli, since the act of closing his eyes seemed to release the impending spawn of demons that come with surrendering his vigilance. Strangely, Kíli seemed to employ the opposite tactic. He appeared to be using the temporary respite from their reality that sleep provided to his advantage. Having worked himself to exhaustion during the day, he would curl up beneath the blankets in the back room, facing the wall, and fall asleep almost instantaneously. Occasionally, if Kerán had left, he even waved his evening rations in order to seek sanctuary in sleep earlier. This more than anything before, was a clear warning sign that the stress of the situation was affecting Kíli all the more. Thankfully, Kíli seemed peaceful in sleep.

Instead of pity, Fíli felt something akin to jealousy, wishing he too could escape - if only for a little while. Instead he found a new evening preoccupation.

As soon as Kíli was sound asleep and Fíli was sure that Kerán had done his nightly rounds, he would sneak to the spot where the gem was hidden, holding the length of his chain in one hand as to not have it scraping against the floor and then lifting the floor stone so silently that no sound could be heard above ambient, occasional crack from the fireplace and the howling wind on the outside.

The gem was perhaps not appreciated for its full potential during these visits since the only light was the glow from the fire as they were taking care to conserve the lantern oil. Nonetheless, Fíli would set the pouch of herbs aside and, very carefully, unwrap the jewel from its leather cloth, to revel in the warm light bouncing of the facetted edges, emitting a glint like a spark each time. The jewel itself also felt warm in his hand, like a piece of smouldering coal, and he found himself staring at it for what had to be hours before he would cradle it to his chest and fall into a near dreamless, pseudo-sleep. He would chastise himself when this happened – if he were to sleep past dawn, Kerán might walk in on him holding the jewel and take it for himself. The thought was unbearable.

The farmer had been delivering more iron rods and firewood which were then stacked against the wall with a measure of precision that was not strictly necessary, adding to the already claustrophobic mood inside the hovel.

In addition to his usual night time appearances, Kerán had now started having lunch with them inside the workshop in the early afternoons. This included many dire attempts at awkward conversation with the farmer on the dwarves' part and it was downright painful for Fíli to watch Kíli put up his elaborate facade only to revert to a cantankerous, beat-down version of himself afterwards when the farmer left. Fíli tried to remain as neutral throughout the interactions, which had by then included some friendly touches from Kerán and boisterous laughing at mediocre jests on Kíli's side, which would have been convincing even to Fíli if he hadn't known his brother's true laugh so well.

The conversations remained casual and polite, speaking about trivialities like the weather and the winter activities that were doubtlessly happening in the surrounding villages. Kíli was doing an excellent job of keeping the farmer talking about himself and on day three was now trying to find an opening for introducing Kerán's wife into the conversation without evoking suspicion in order to set the groundwork for obtaining the important piece of information which would, hopefully, earn them their freedom. It was a surprise when Kerán ended up doing it himself.

"You know, few people know this, but my wife was rather a good horseback rider herself," he had said during a discussion about racing. "She would go out riding for hours at a time and only come back long after sunset!"

Fíli felt his heart skip a beat.

"Is that so? She sounds like a remarkable lady," Kíli continued seamlessly.

"She was," Kerán said after a thoughtful pause, taking a loud draught from his cup of mead.

Perhaps deciding that couldn't hope for a better opportunity soon, Kíli asked, "You told me she died in childbirth?"

The sudden cloud that had passed over the farmer's face at the question twisted the relatively calm mood into a tense silence.

"Yes I did," came the stern reply. He dangles the rim of the cup between his middle finger and thumb before he placed it back down onto the rough wooden surface with a scrape. "Why do you ask this?" Kíli must have realized that it had been too soon to approach the matter. He collected himself fairly quickly.

"No reason," he said quickly. "I-I just thought that you must miss her."

Kerán narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two dwarves at the table, before standing up abruptly and starting to gather the plates rather clumsily.

"If you would pardon me, the pigs need to be fed," was his response as he snatched Fíli's not-quite-finished plate from him, adding it to the already haphazard tower of tableware on the tray.

"No, wait! I'm sorry!" Kíli was reaching out a hand to catch the farmer's sleeve. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought that…that you…"

Uncharacteristic of his usual tactile fixation, Kerán shook himself free of the Kíli's grasp and made a turn for the door.

"It is of little matter," he spoke over his shoulder in the general direction of his prisoners. "I am not angry at you."

With that he left the room, leaving behind two flabbergasted dwarves, Fíli still holding a spoon aimed at empty air.

-o0o-

As much as Fíli did not want to admit to himself, at least of all to Kíli, he was beginning to lose hope of escape. Their first subtle attempt at extracting information from the farmer had been fruitless, although possibly not as disastrous as it might have been if the farmer were to lose his temper again, he thought.

By day four Kíli was permanently wearing an expression of nausea, even when Kerán was not in the room and he would have spells of getting caught up staring into the roaring forge fire so intently that his eyes would start to water at the corners – at least that would be a less distressing explanation Kíli would then put forward for his almost-tears. There was an increasing atmosphere of building tension, as if they were holding back an ever-increasing tide of panic and despair that threatened to flood the tiny building. It had already seeped into their bedding in the back room, preventing Fíli having night's rest. It had seeped into their clothing, where Kíli was now wearing his coat like an armour against the ghost touches he would shrink away from unexpectedly at random intervals. It had seeped into their food, which tasted like warm ash despite the farmer's rich cooking. It had seeped into the floor as well, twisting and turning in between the grooves of the floor stones and spilling into each crevice and festering like a disease.

The only part of the room which was still relatively unaffected by all this, was that one spot in which the treasure Fíli had discovered was hidden. Like a droplet of oil in cup of water, it could be temporarily disrupted by the gushes of panic each time Kerán made an appearance, but never ceased to remain an undiluted beacon of shining beauty and glory in Fíli's current, miserable circumstances.

Their circumstances.

Only expecting Kerán's nightly visit after sunset, both Fíli and Kíli nearly jumped out of their skins when the door was thrown open, crashing into the wall it was hinged to with a reverberating bang. Yet it was not Kerán in one of his violent moods who was responsible; it was Wharin, wearing a large cape and a layer of snow who entered and grabbed Fíli by the forearm, pushing him into the side of the counter with unyielding force.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his wide eyes threatening.

Stunned by the sudden onslaught and the odd question, Fíli was could not fathom an answer before Wharin repeated his question with more force.

"Who are you?"

"What do you…I don't underst-"

"They are searching for you dwarves all over my town!"

Thorin

Perhaps someone had finally identified their sigils on the knives and Thorin had found out. He was probably on his way to Kerán's farm at that very moment! Fíli managed a glance at Kíli over his shoulder. He too was staring open-mouthed at the man in front of him, but with more life in his eyes than Fíli had seen over the previous days.

"It is our uncle," Fíli answered, his voice steady with a growing sense of confidence. "He has come back from his trip and is now looking for us. We were supposed to meet him."

"Don't lie to me!" Wharin gave Fíli's arm a violent yank, bending down to shove his face into Fíli's own.

"I'm not! I told you-"

"Unless your uncle is a scraggly wizard, you are telling me a falsehood!"

What? A wizard?

"No, you are mistaken," Kíli interjected from somewhere behind Fíli. "He is a dwarf - a dwarf lord - and he is coming to get us! You can help us get out before he comes for both you and the bloody farmer!"

Wharin released Fíli's arm and straightened up, his attention now on Kíli instead.

"It is a wizard," he insisted. "I saw him with my own eyes, asking about you at the Prancing Pony this very morning!" He now seemed every bit as perplexed at the dwarves' apparent confusion.

"It had not been your uncle," Wharin continued, slightly more collected this time. "I know who enters my town. Besides, dwarf folk are leaving town at the moment, not coming in."

"Wait. Leaving? Why? Why are they leaving town?" The question was asked by both dwarves simultaneously, only phrased differently, but to the same end.

Wharin gave an expiating sigh. "Suppose you wouldn't know. Being here the whole time." He made a vague gesture toward the rest of the room.

"Know what?" Fíli asked with urgency.

"The dragon has left the dwarf-mountain. Their king is returning there and all the dwarf folk are following him – going back to live in their mountain caves," Wharin said with mild disinterest.

Fíli head started to swim with the effort of processing the news. The first emotion he could recognise was disbelief, then exhilaration.

Smaug is gone? Erebor is free? Thorin must be the new king! Which means he and his brother were now the legitimate heirs to the grandest of the dwarf kingdoms! They had to go meet Thorin! Now more than ever they were needed!

"You have to set us free!" Fíli found himself kicking his chained leg, willing the chain to disintegrate at the whim of pure determination. "We have to go with them!"

Kíli was pacing a short distance to and fro, speaking to the floor under his breath, before practically attacking Wharin.

"No, no…You have to let us go! Now!"

"You must! Please!" Fíli was unashamed by the pleading tone of his voice.

"Our uncle needs us!"

"He's the King!"

"If you don't get us out of here, you will be very sorry!"

The dialogue continued this way until they realized that Wharin was not responding in any way, except to look irritated if not also slightly bemused.

"Is that so?" he said. "I don't care much for the matters of dwarves. You have not fulfilled your side of the bargain yet. Do you know what happened to my Mae?"

"Who cares?" Kíli shouted at him. "We have to go! It is important!"

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Wharin narrowed his eyes and stood taller.

"I care!" he shouted back at Kíli. "You are not leaving until I know what happened to her – I don't care how you come by the information, just get it! I will help you escape when you can exchange that which is important to me!"

The crunch of gravel silenced both ends of the argument. Not long after that, Kerán was at the door.

"Is he putting up a fight?" Kerán asked Wharin. "Trying to defend his brother?"

Wharin shrugged. "Yes."

Kerán grunted. "Typical. I could get him out of the way for you. Then you can take the other one. "

"Don't bother," Wharin replied, pushing Fíli out of the way on his way to the door. "Don't feel like it anymore. Useless dwarf doesn't even deserve a fucking."

Kerán rolled his eyes, gave Fíli a reprimanding scowl and followed his friend out the door, allowing the first waves of the flood to crash into the room.

-o0o-

The news Wharin had brought had raised a whole new string of questions on Fíli's mind.

Was Wharin telling the truth? Was Thorin still coming for them? Who was this wizard looking for them?

"You have to found out what happened to his wife," Fíli found himself telling Kíli in the assertive tone he almost never used on his younger brother. "Immediately! We have to get away from here now. We have to go join Thorin-"

"Don't you think I realize this?" Kíli snapped back. "You know I have tried-"

"You are not trying hard enough!" Fíli was shocked to hear the words come from his own mouth. The betrayal in Kíli's eyes stung his heart, but he decided that he could spare a few harsh words if it would get them out of there sooner. "I am just saying that you could be doing more."

The disbelief in Kíli's voice was evident. "Oh, I could do more? What would you have me do then? Take off my clothes and offer myself to him like a wanton whore? It that what you wish?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what?" Kíli raised his hands to push at Fíli's shoulders, shoving him backwards. "I don't see you actively contributing to the escape effort! This is clearly not working!" Kíli wiped at his brow. "I say we focus our attention on Wharin! Convince him to help us instead."

"How do we do that? He clearly isn't going to help us if we don't do what he wants."

"We give him something else," Kíli said.

"Like what?"

Suddenly Kíli pointed to the spot behind Fíli – the spot Fíli was backing up to. The spot he was subconsciously guarding the entire time.

"We bribe him with the jewel," Kíli explained. "We give it to him in exchange for him to help us escape."

Kíli took a step forward and Fíli took one to the side, blocking Kíli's advance.

"No."

"What do you mean?" Kíli took another step, but so did Fíli.

"You can't. It won't work."

"You don't know that! Don't you think it worth the chance?"

"No. He will simply take it and still leave us if we showed it to him. He won't help us. No."

Incredulous, Kíli merely shook his head. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. I don't know what you mean. Just…" Fíli scavenged for words. "When Kerán comes tonight, just ask him again. He will tell you eventually, you just need to push the matter a bit more."

Kíli didn't answer. In fact he didn't speak to Fíli for the rest of the evening.

Night time brought with it Kerán's visit. He must have picked up on the sour mood between the brothers, for he raised his eyebrows at Fíli not joining them at the table, but sitting against the wall instead, only briefly getting up to fetch his meal before retreating there again, sitting down on the exact same spot.

Apparently Kerán didn't mind this, and was all too happy to sit alone at the table with Kíli. Fíli watched them warily, but was pleased to see Kíli's continued act of enthusiasm for Kerán affections. He even reached across the table for the farmer's hand at one point during the conversation, touching it gently to emphasize some point he was making.

Apart from the glitter in Kerán's eyes that was twisting Fíli's stomach, the food we was having was overly spicy and salty, making it almost difficult to swallow. Fíli was quite surprised and disappointed by this since, despite everything Kerán was, he had always been an excellent cook at least.

Nevertheless, he was hungry and had finished half his bowl of broth by the time he could feel that something was not right. He recognised the feeling instantaneously. It was the same deep drowsy feeling he had woken up to that fateful night he and Kíli had been imprisoned.

He had been drugged again, this time something must have been put in the broth, disguised by salt and spices.

With a mind already rapidly being fogged by the effects of the drug, he managed to cast the bowl of remaining broth aside, and bolted for the table to knock Kíli's barely touched bowl to the floor as well, splashing Kerán in the process.

"Don't eat the food, Kíli!" he was shouting, or at least trying to, but he couldn't get past the third word before Kerán had him by the neck, smashing him into the edge of the counter so hard that Fíli could physically feel the bones of his spine cracking.

Fíli could barely make sense of the chaos that followed. Kerán was shouting at him, punching him in the gut with his fist, only stopping to continue choking the dwarf with both hands. Somewhere amidst the lack of air and the effect of the drug, Fíli could hear his brother's voice – screams of stop and please.

When finally the hands around his throat released him, Fíli fell down in a fit of coughs and splutters. Fíli heard more than saw Kerán pull a dagger – Kíli's dagger – from his belt beneath his coat.

"I'll do as you say." Fíli heard Kíli say. "Just stop, please, leave him alone."

Begging really didn't suit Kíli, Fíli thought.

"I would have you again tonight," Kerán was closing in on Kíli now. "If your brother stands in our way, I will not hesitate to get rid of him!' He pointed the dagger back at where Fíli was lying.

"You don't have to do that. Please. I will do what you ask!"

"No," Kerán said, "I will not have you lie with me only to save his life. I know you want me, Kíli, but your brother forbids it. Therefore he must die!"

"No! You don't have to. I come to you willingly, but you must let him live."

"You want me?"

Without pause, "I do."

Fíli could feel his grip on consciousness failing, but he could still make out Kíli's form in the half-light, approaching Kerán's slowly.

"Not here," he heard Kerán say.

"What do you mean?" Kíli asked.

"You must come with me. But first…"

Kerán pulled a length of rope, also from the depths of his coat. He stalked over to Kíli and bade him extend his arms.

Kíli did so and soon he was trussed up like a game animal, with coils of rope around his waist, arms and legs. Kerán kneeled down to fidget with the chain and it was not long before it fell free from Kíli's ankle.

Fíli wanted to do something, but the drug had rendered him senseless and the beating left him boneless. He was forced to watch as Kerán carried Kíli out the door over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, kicking the door shut without as much as another look in Fíli's direction.

With what remained of his strength, Fíli managed to lift the floor stone and dig his beloved jewel from where it was hidden. As he clung to it for dear life, he sank away into deep darkness.

TBC

Next chapter: Consequence