**The ideas about the origin of Thranduil's halls are not mine, but taken from other LOTR sites which speculate on the history of the elven kingdom. In the ROTK appendix, Erebor's founding year is cited as 1999, under the reign of Thrain I. The online Encyclopedia of Arda suggests that Thranduil built his halls much later, in the third age, with the help of the dwarves. That's the source for my history, as Fili is about to tell Aragorn... Enjoy!**

Chapter 14

Fili, King under the Mountain, was on the lakeshore at sunrise, getting a look at what was left of the dragon bones.

"I'm surprised the bones aren't scattered from here to Dale," young Bard said. "That was the oddest blasting powder I've ever seen."

Fili's boots crunched in the black soot. "Wasn't blasting powder, really."

Aragorn and Bard both looked at him.

"The white sparks—that's magnesium…and there were a few other elements mixed in. That kind of thing doesn't explode so much as it vaporizes." He made a gesture with his hands as if to say poof. "Though I'm fairly surprised that Bofur knew how to combine that mix. It's got very limited applications. Deadly inside a mine."

But Aragorn was grinning. "But no doubt suitable for use on Dragons and other dark creatures of Morgoth?"

Fili laughed. "Something like that, but I'm not going to argue with the results. Seems our dragon spirit has gone."

"Is it enough?" Bard asked, looking up the slope toward Dale, toward his own small kingdom. "Are we sure it can't return?"

Aragorn was shaking his head. "A fell spirit like that requires a locus. In this case, it had latched onto its own remains lying undisturbed under the lake. I think, lads, that we have taken care of that."

"I, for one, was glad to disturb him." Bard's smile was grim.

A call went up from the perimeter guard. Fili raised his head to see an archer pointing to the sky.

"Raven," he said, walking a few feet away and raising his arm.

Bard, of course, had been watching ravenspeakers his entire life.

But for Aragorn, this was a first. "What is this?" he asked.

Fili looked slightly embarrassed. "Erebor hosts an unusual flock of ravens," he said.

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up. "I've heard stories, but…" He looked up, wide eyed, spotting the large corvid descending in a wide circle.

Bard chuckled. "But never really believed them?" He nodded to the incoming bird. "See it in action." Both men stood and watched.

The raven glided in, feet outstretched, and pulled up in time to land lightly on Fili's arm, covered, as always, with his raven gauntlet.

"Welcome young Corax," Fili said. Aragorn and Bard, of course, could hear his words but not the bird's.

Corax fluffed himself. "Safe! Safe!" he quorked loudly, exuberant.

"Whoa," Fili said, a little amused by the bird's exuberance. "Shhh," he crooned. "Do you have a message for me?"

Corax ducked and waggled his beak. "Raven Prince safe. Elvenking's halls. Kingsfoil needed."

"Did you see Raven Prince?"

Corax bobbed. "Hen-hen. Hen-hen. Hen-hen and Raven Prince."

"They were together?"

"Yes. Had nuts." He made clicking sounds as if wondering whether Fili would have some.

"Was Raven Prince awake? Did he talk to you?"

Corax pinned Fili with a beady eye. Fili wondered if the concepts were too complex for the bird, but then Corax made a low rattle sound. "Put in bird box. Dark quiet, dark quiet." He shook his head.

Fili frowned, then caught the reference. "Resting? Like in a box resting?"

Corax went still, then made the low rattle sound again.

"I take it he's not well, then. Which is why kingsfoil is needed…"

Corax quorked loudly. "Elvenking's halls. Kingsfoil needed."

Fili nodded. A flight that distance had been long. It was a wonder that the bird recalled as much as he did.

"Good bird, Corax," he murmured. "Fine bird."

Corax stood tall, eying Bard and Aragorn.

"Would you like to meet a new friend? Honored friend?"

Corax peeked around Fili's shoulder to look closer at Aragorn. When he didn't object, Fili turned and took a couple steps toward Gondor's King.

"This is Corax," he said quietly. "He's just come from Thranduil's Halls. Tells me Kili is there resting." He held the bird up for Aragorn to see.

"All I hear is bird sounds," Aragorn murmured.

"As far as we know, only someone with Durin's blood can understand them. And they're quite vain. I might suggest a formal greeting." Fili winked at Aragorn.

Aragorn took the hint. He made a polite bow, hand on heart. "Nan alassëa tye-omentien," he said. "I am happy to meet you."

Corax stood tall, almost as if posing. Fili smiled. "He's impressed." Then Corax crouched. "Lift your arm," he said quickly.

Aragorn did.

Corax hopped over to inspect him, testing the fittings on Aragorn's leather cloak and nibbling the braid trim.

Fili smiled and watched Aragorn's expression change from surprise to amusement.

"Nuts!" Corax demanded loudly, looking Aragorn up and down. "Nuts! Nuts!"

Fili laughed. "He's demanding treats." Fili scooped him off Aragorn's arm. "Let's move you on before you get too pushy with the visiting royalty." Corax wagged his head.

Fili pointed him towards ravenhill. "The food's up there, greedy pest. Go on, now." He lowered his arm, Corax angled his wings, and Fili launched him into the air. Corax made a beeline for ravenhill.

"What was his message?" Bard asked.

Fili looked west. "The message was from Nÿr, not Kili. She says they're safe at the Elvenking's Halls, but asks for kingsfoil."

Aragorn looked up sharply. "Athelas? Why send a message? I'm sure the elves have a supply."

The three of them stood in silence.

"You need to tell him, my Lord," Bard said quietly. "I'm pretty sure the secret's safe with Gondor's King."

Fili's brows rose, his expression bleak. After a moment he looked at Aragorn. "Elrond taught me how to spell Kingsfoil the year after we took back Erebor."

Aragorn's expression showed his surprise, but he did not speak.

"I could never do it in the elvish," Fili admitted. "But in ancient dwarvish, my kingsfoil spell can do its job."

"That is the cure for black breath," Aragorn whispered.

Fili regarded him. "Or a morgul wound."

Aragorn paled, his eyes meeting Fili's with sudden understanding. "Your brother?"

Fili looked away. "He was made a target of Sauron's forces on our escape from Mirkwood to Laketown, all those years ago. Arrow. Just above the knee. We didn't know—treated it on the run. By the time we got to Laketown he was fevered and ill. It was Durin's Day. My uncle and the company departed Laketown to take back Erebor, and he left Kili behind. He was too sick."

Aragorn looked stricken. "You stayed with him," he guessed.

Fili nodded. "We almost lost him. Would have lost him…but an elf, Tauriel the Elf, in fact." He stopped.

"The same elf caught by the dragon spirit?" Aragorn asked.

Fili nodded. "She healed him with athelas, using the healing spell."

"Your brother was lucky."

"Tauriel was not. The dragon attacked, she helped Bard aim the black arrow that brought him down."

"Right on top of Laketown," Aragorn finished. "And when she perished in body, the dragon trapped her in spirit."

Fili regarded the man and nodded. "And exactly one year later we learned the truth about morgul wounds. That they never really heal, that they're a poison in the blood that never leaves. He is ill again every year on Durin's Day. It's a horrible thing." He was quiet a moment. "I hoped that when the dark lord fell that it would be over." Fili swallowed hard and went on. "But the people of Middle Earth are free and my brother is not. This last year was the worst. Now I know why."

"The dragon could see him when he was fevered."

Fili nodded, unable to go on.

"And Dale has known this?" Aragorn looked at Bard.

"The basics. My great-grandfather, my namesake in fact, was there in Laketown. The healing happened in his house... right before the dragon destroyed it. Gandalf always swore us to secrecy on the matter. He feared what the dark lord could do through Kili if he ever knew."

Aragorn's face hardened, and he looked up at the mountain, a powerfully magicked chunk of stone. "He could have worked great evil through the power of Erebor." He regarded Fili again. "And no one understands the true effort your kingdom gave by holding fast these lands." Aragorn reached for Fili's arm, his touch full of empathy. "But I am beginning to see it. By your strength did the rest of us succeed." He inclined his head. "I would give you any gift in thanks, my lord."

Fili was taken aback, a little embarrassed. "All I want," he looked the King of Gondor in the eye. "Is my brother."

Kili did not dream. He slept soundlessly, but he did wake several times. He did not normally sleep in the daytime hours, and even as exhausted as he was, he kept waking. He decided that his internal sense of time was just trying to assert itself. He did not consider that the last few days had taken their toll, leaving his mind unsettled and anxious, as if unable to stop being on constant alert.

The first few times he woke, he reassured himself that Nÿr was close, curled up on his right, and he looked for Skirfir on guard to his left, and then fell immediately back to sleep.

Somewhere around the fifth time, he realized Skirfir had been talking.

Kili raised his head, cringed at the pain of it, then realized there had been an elf by to check on them. Not a threat. Nothing for concern.

He lay back down, glancing at Skirfir, who stared after the elf maiden with a look of wide-eyed fascination.

Kili smiled slowly. "Ah, lad. I know that look," he murmured.

Skirfir turned to him, alarmed, then chagrined. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

Kili waved a lazy hand. "It's all right." He watched Skirfir look back in the direction of the maiden. "The heart knows what the heart wants, Skirf. No shame in that."

"They're just..." Skirf struggled with his words.

"All high cheekbones and creamy skin," Kili mumbled.

Skirfir looked at him, then nodded. "Yeah..." His eyes went back to the place where he'd last seen the elf maid.

Kili smiled again, wondering what it would be like to be that young again and innocent of the consequences. He shifted slightly, bit back a groan at the all-over aches, and reached for Nÿr's hand. Himself, he was done with elves. Too much flashy, high energy. Nope. He wanted the calm serenity of his Lady healer…craved it, in fact. He turned his face toward her, thinking he would pull her close and hold tight. But he couldn't quite muster the energy, and a minute later he was back asleep.

Fili and Aragorn were once again aboard a fast sailing barque, bound for Esgaroth with an additional passenger. Nama, his lady wife's bodyguard, who sat on the foredeck flirting shamelessly with a dwarf cargo master.

An was safe deep inside the mountain, of course. She'd apparently watched his dragon fire from the ledge outside the family annex and been horrified to think her husband and older sons had perished.

She had nearly flayed him alive when they'd returned to their quarters, in fact. She didn't settle until he explained the whole thing at least four times, kissed her long, and proven no harm to his virility.

Now he was bound for the Elvenking's halls. It would take less than an hour to get there, in fact, and then a short ride on horseback to Thranduil's Halls on the Forest River.

"Explain to me the limits of the rock," Aragorn said as they stood on the rail, looking at the great Forest.

Fili knew he was just trying to understand all aspects of the problem. Dragon spirit, gone. Morgul wound, noted. Protection by mountain, curious.

"It was Gandalf," Fili said, "who told us that Kili's curse meant he could be taken by wraiths," Fili said. "That the curse would draw evil things to him and he could become a dwimmerwraith. We tested it," Fili admitted. "Once. We believed him after that."

Aragorn nodded. "Having been pursued by the Nine most of my life, I can sympathize."

"The lands of Erebor protect him."

"How is he safe now? He is in Thranduil's kingdom but you don't seem worried."

"I'm plenty worried," Fili's eyebrows went up. "If he was this far from the Mountain to the north, he would be in trouble. But going west, he is fairly safe." Fili pointed back at the Mountain. "We can see the stone exposed on the peak. But the same rock extends under the surface for a great distance to the west, all the way to the Forest River and a little beyond."

"Ah," Aragorn nodded. "So he is safe in Thranduil's Halls." After a moment Aragorn frowned. "Does Thranduil know he parked himself on Erebor stone?"

Fili laughed. "Of course he does. Dwarves helped him carve out those halls hundreds of years ago, and it would have been Durin's folk from Erebor who did it. The craft was called stonespelling in the old time, though we call it stonesinging today. Most of the skills are long forgotten. My mother, actually," Fili smiled at Aragorn. "Had the talent. She made talismans with it." He laughed. "If my uncle had truly understood the potential, he would have sent her into Thranduil's halls to undo the bridgeworks. Thankfully, Thorin never made the connection."

"But you did," Aragorn said.

Fili shook his head. "Gandalf did. Not me." After a moment, his expression sobered. "If Nÿr asked for kingsfoil, she must believe Kili's morgul fever has returned. But it is not Durin's Day." He looked across the water toward the Forest. "I'm not surprised. We have been hearing rumors all spring about something new the goblins were planning. Some thing they would try to use against Kili to make him worse." Fili looked at Aragorn, his face sad. "I hope you can help," he said. "But I can not say what we will find."

"You fear that we are already too late?"

Fili shook his head. "I don't know."

Aragorn was thoughtful. "When I felt your brother's spirit last night, it felt strong. Very strong."

Fili met his eyes, unable to mask his worry.

Aragorn put his hand on Fili's shoulder. "He was attacked by spiders when this started…and spider venom is the base of morgul poision. Let's see what we have before we lose hope."

Nÿr woke when an elf attendant shook her gently and offered an oversized shirt as a robe.

"They want you to dress," Skirfir said. He was wary, his long hunting knife in his hand. "We must be getting a visitor."

Kili winced and sat up, but no one handed him an extra shirt.

And then Fili was there, pushing back the privacy curtains at the door and spotting his brother.

Nÿr understood now, and stepped away, giving her King room to see his brother. Skirfir held his blade down, tip pointed to the floor, and bowed his head as his King passed.

Fili went straight to where Kili sat on the bedding, kneeling and pulling him into a tight embrace.

Kili gasped. "Fee…" He got his arms around his brother and they pressed their foreheads together in silence, their hands touching each other's faces, cupping jaws.

Fili kissed his brother's forehead, long and slow, his eyes closed.

One of them sniffed.

Nÿr looked away to give them privacy, then realized another dwarf had come in with her King.

Nama, the Queen's bodyguard, who came to her with arms open, enfolding her in a sisterly embrace.

"Nÿr, thank Mahal…"

Nÿr allowed the touch, but could do nothing but stand still. She had been holding herself together just fine, she thought. But suddenly everything blurred.

Nama's eyes widened, she glanced at her King, then helped Nÿr to a quiet couch on the far side of the large room, well away from the lads.

Nÿr felt herself drawn against Nama's shoulder and the older lass kissed her hair.

"Let it out, lass." She said gently. "You can't help anyone if you're wound this tight."

Nÿr shook her head, denying any such need.

But neither could she draw breath.

"Tell me, lass. And just breathe."

Nÿr clenched her jaw, then gave in to Nama's warm embrace. "Nama," she whispered, realizing it came out in a sob, clutching the older warrior. "I almost killed him, Nama. I was this close…" She held a hand with thumb and finger an inch apart.

Nama didn't reply. She held Nÿr closer, stroked her hair. Shushed her while she fought the sobs and then just gave in to silent despair and cried.

"Tell me, then," Nama whispered. "Get it off your chest, sweetheart."

Nÿr explained, halting, through tears, about the goblins, about the chain that held Kili to the stone ledge, about the last resort plan: use the bootknife to cut an artery, see him die a natural death, and then jump.

"This close," Nÿr struggled to say. "It was this close." The tears came fast and hot now.

Nama had no soothing words, then. But she held Nÿr until the tears slowed, rocking her like a child.

"It would have been mercy," she said, finally, her own voice hoarse. "And it's a thing warriors do for each other, Nÿr." She made Nÿr look up. "They all know it. They do."

Nÿr searched the older warrior's eyes. Had Nama ever done such a thing? She couldn't ask.

"Yes, love. I have," Nama pulled her close. "And thank Mahal he stayed your hand and sent you help."

Nÿr closed her eyes tight.

Mahal. And an elf named Legolas.