Twelve years had come and gone since Dwin had passed her mastership examination and she proudly led her own sign since then. She chose a tooth in remembrance of the orc tooth Dwalin had given her as a talisman and that reminded her of her strength and endurance. Together with the coat of arms of her guild she also had it tattooed on her upper right arm embedded in a pretty circle knot-pattern around her biceps. On that occasion she had also put the runes for the initials D&D together with the silhouette of Erebor in another band tattoo around her left upper arm. Her heart side.

Since last spring Kái was working and learning the craft of a stonemason as an apprentice in his uncle's workshop in the Iron Mountains and felt very much at home there already. He had clearly inherited his mother's talent and could lose himself completely in his work. Whether Kái would return to the Erebor after his apprenticeship remained still to be seen. But from what his short, rare, enthusiastic letters sounded like he would probably stay there, Dwin had the impression.

Ema would also leave the Erebor soon. She would begin her novitiate in the Grey Mountains and prepare herself for the service in the temple. Since she had joined the choir years ago the temple had become a second home to her and her destiny had finally become clear.

Dwin sighed when she thought about her daughter's departure. She would greatly miss her, her singing and her playing the harp. Since Ema knew what she wanted and saw her future way clearly ahead, the two dwarrowdams had grown very close to each other.

Now it would soon be painfully quiet at home. She and Dwalin would see their children only seldom. Dwin had hoped to get pregnant again, but despite all her efforts, it had not happened.

Ahead of Ema lay a long time of studying and learning in the Grey Mountains now. Dwalin was extremely proud of his daughter, but Dwin knew he was going to suffer from the separation just as much as Fredrin did, since he knew about Ema's decision to follow her destination.

The prince had seen it coming and was fearing it for years for Ema had never made a secret of her desire to serve as a priestess. But when she actually held the written invitation to her novitiate in the Grey Mountains in hand, he was devastated. He tried to talk her into staying. Why did she not stay and pursue a career with her singing and harp play? But she had made up her mind. Then he offered to change the rules once he was king so that she could tie the knot with him and do service in the temple, too. But Ema said she could not be both. She could not be queen and priestess. Then she would be both just half. She said she was very sorry, but her vocation ran deep and strong and she was determined to follow her call.

He would lose her. Ema would leave.

And future together he had always dreamt of crumbled together to a heap of dust. Paralysed, he completely secluded himself for days. Angry and heartbroken he hardly ate and slept. During the days he was tired and did not pay attention and the nights he tossed and turned in bed. His mother looked sympathetically at his grief, but she knew that nothing she said could really comfort him. Even his sister Tul, who otherwise gladly picked on him with her sharp tongue, had pity in her brother's heart-brokenness. Thorin was sorry for Fredrin, too, but expected him to get over it soon. After all his son had known all along that Ema wanted to devote her life to the service of Mahal. In his opinion his son should not have clung to this vain hope all those years in the first place.

The prince missed Kái with whom he could have talked things over and he avoided Ema's nearness until two weeks before her planed departure.

One late afternoon he waited for her at the temple and they sat down together in one of the bench rows. The members of the choir left chatting and laughing and the two youths had the huge temple room for themselves in deep silence.

"It's not easy for me to say, but I wish all the very best to you. You know, I wished so much you could be happy here by my side, but if it is only by following your call that you can be happy, I must let you go, I guess. Can we still be friends?", he asked, forcing himself to smile.

"Yes. Sure. Friends", she replied, obviously moved by his words and, pressing her forehead against his, she continued softly, "Thank you for coming, Fredrin."

They looked at each other a little embarrassed.

"Do you remember that day, when I promised you to be your queen? When we were really little, I mean", she whispered then.

"Of course", he replied with a wistful smile", "The day I took father's key."

"I am so very sorry, I can not keep my promise", she said.

"Me too", the prince muttered.

"I miss Kái every single day since he left and I will miss you just as much. I will be miserable with homesickness and my heart will long for you. But my soul! Fredrin, I have to do this! Mahal is calling me."

He fought to hold back his tears and despair. And silently cursed his god's cruelty. Then he rummaged about his pockets, pulled out a paper bag with caramel and offered them to her. Smiling she took a piece and put it in her mouth.

"Better", she sighed.

"I know. You wouldn't believe how much of that stuff I ate in the past two weeks", he groaned.

She laughed the bright laughter he loved so very much and it cut into his heart.

"Before I leave, there will be a farewell party like for Kái last year. Pa insists on celebrating in quite a big round again. I do not know whom all he invited, but half the mountain, I think. I would be happy, if you could also come", she said.

"Yes, sure. Gladly", he said, but it did not quite sound like that.

And so they sat together in the half-light of the familiar temple, eating the candy together and simply enjoying each other's presence in peace. Maybe for the last time.

Meanwhile Dwin, Tombur and Helle were browsing through the stores in the marked district. They were looking for a present for one of their workmates and eagerly exchanged the latest gossip while they made their way through the crowd.

At work Dwin did not like to talk. She wanted to immerse completely into her feeling for stone, form and the tools in her hands. Then she lost all sense of time and was able to work highly concentrated for hours without tiring. But when someone interrupted her by talking, she fell out of this state of mind and could only find back into her work with difficulty. This bothered her enormously. But since it was much the same for all of her workmates and it also was generally too noisy to talk, only the most necessary was spoken.

All the more the three enjoyed chatting after work. Laughing and talking they went along the displayed goods and stalls. Dwin was also looking for a farewell gift for Ema and they deliberated together. The dwarrowdam was sincerely glad for this close friendship. It would help her a lot during the next months to overcome the pain of separation, she thought gratefully.

After Ema and Fredrin had said goodbye in the temple Ema remained there for harp practice and the prince slowly returned home, deep in thought. In the entrance hall he came across Dís and his sister. He watched them laughing together and thought that they could easily pass as mother and daughter. They were incredible alike. How often he heard his father say: "Just like your aunt!" And that wasn't always meant as a compliment, even though his father anticipated his beloved daughter every wish.

Tul had a somewhat arrogant and imperious manner, was keen, eloquent and self-confident. And ravishingly gorgeous. She was the declared favourite of her aunt. The two seemingly came from shopping for they were packed with all sorts of bags and baskets. Dís saw Fredrin approaching and beckoned him with a smile. Silver-grey strands highlighted her hair at the temples now, but she still was a radiating beauty that effortlessly attracted everybody's attention wherever she went.

Fredrin fought back the melancholy that his conversation with Ema had left him in, pulled himself together and went over to greet his aunt.

At the same time Alwa lay with a book in her arms in the stars' chamber and looked out into the darkening evening sky. The day had been strenuous and she was tired, but she could not come to rest or concentrate on reading. A deeply felt disquiet was growing in her. She tried to sense a reason, but no pictures would come to her.

Seriously worried she finally got up and went downstairs. Something was about to happen, but she did not succeed in capturing it. Alwa suddenly felt the strong urge to flee into Thorin's arms. She wanted to take refuge in his warm embrace and hear him say that everything was going to be all right. She went around to look for him and found him sitting at his desk. Thorin had put on weight during the last peaceful years and his hair and beard were grey. He still was a stately, imposing appearance, but he rarely left the Erebor any more.

Instead of him it was more and more often Fredrin who rode to missions and duties outside the mountain next to Dwalin or Balin.

Like two months ago when King Thranduil had called them to a great, joint hunt for the spiders in Mirkwood. The beasts had once again multiplied dangerously and so they were driven back in a mutual campaign by men, elves and dwarves and hundreds of them were killed. Dwalin had been full of praise for Fredrin's bearing afterwards. The prince mastered axe and sword, was agile and fast and overcame his fear with clenched teeth. Thorin could not have been prouder of his son. And he was very glad Fredrin already took over some of his responsibilities already at such a young age. For the king himself was 218 years old now and not seldom felt a tiredness he had not known before.

Now he looked up and saw his wife with a frightened face standing in the doorway. He got up, startled.

"Treasure! What is it?", he asked worried.

Alwa stood there as if rooted to the ground and felt the stone deep, deep beneath her bare feet groan and moan. Her heart began to race and she turned ashen. Suddenly she saw with cruel clearness what would happen. And she also realized that it was too late to warn anybody.

"Rockfall", she groaned and sought for support on the door frame.

Like the devastating conflagrations in the cities and villages of men, the deadly floods along the great river and the destructive sand storms in the vast deserts of Harad, rockfall had always been the greatest catastrophe in the dwarven homelands. When Thorin was a young dwarfling such a disaster had haunted the Iron Mountains. Almost a complete angle was collapsed over three floors. Without warning. There were many, many dead and hundreds injured. He remembered exactly the tales of the dwarves who returned to the Erebor from a mission to help and assist at their Iron Mountain neighbours. Cruelly distorted dead and the screams to the buried, who could not be helped in time, because tons of debris had to be cleared out of the way. Thorin had had nightmares of what he had heard for weeks.

In spite of all the experience of the builders and constant controls, no one could see every small weakness in the stone and every tiny water vein that finally led to a tragedy like this over the decades, centuries and millennia. The Erebor had been spared for generations. Until this day.

"Rockfall", it thundered through Thorin's mind now. He grabbed Alwa by the shoulders and shook her out of her numbness. He was about to ask her where it was going to hit, when it began already.

A huge booming and rumbling ran through the mountain. Thorin pulled Alwa into a corner of the room, where the stones were usually most stable. Then for a moment everything was dead silent until terrified screams were heard from the hallway. And through Alwa's mind raced the images and sounds of what just happened, without her being able to stop it. With a moan she passed out. Thorin carried her to an armchair in his study, pushed it into a corner and hurried out himself. Her ordered Brit to take care of the queen and rushed to the stairs.

"Oh, Mahal! Please do not take my children from me!", he prayed imploringly as he ran down.

In the hall he came across Fredrin, who just came in from outside. Deeply relieved he took him by the shoulder.

"Mother?", his son asked him worried.

"She's fine", his father reassured him.

"Tul and Dís are outside. We were here in the hall when it started and I ordered everybody out", the prince said.

"Well done", his father answered approvingly.

Fredrin thought about hurrying over to the temple to look after Ema, but first he went briefly to the gate with his father, where the king embraced the two dwarrowdams. It took a load off his mind.

"Please take Tul with you to Dale, until everything here is cleared! Alwa is unharmed. It did not hit our quarters", Thorin said to his sister.

Dís nodded and took her disturbed looking niece by the hand. She pulled her gently in the direction of the stables.

"If you need help from Dale, no matter what, send someone!", Dís called out to her brother.

And he raised his hand with a nod and went back inside with Fredrin quickly.

"Skemtar! It hit the Skemtar!", a call sounded through the hall.

Father and son looked at each other and hurried towards the amusement district. It lay far off the temple and Fredrin was fairly calmed.

"Maybe we are lucky. Around this time it shouldn't have been too crowded there", Fredrin pointed out.

Thorin nodded. That was exactly what he had been thinking and he was, once more, proud of his prudent son.

"Go and tell Oin we need his help in Skemtar! Then join me there", Thorin ordered Fredrin.

The prince just nodded, ran ahead of his father and disappeared around the next corner.

The closer Thorin got to the Skemtar the more dust was in the air. Soon he heard yelling and screaming from there. Dwarves were running around, desperately seeking someone. A group of miners came hurrying out of another corridor. Bofur and his brother were with them. They all wore their pickaxes and some carried hand barrows for the debris. They were used to transport waste material out of the mines and would be needed today in the Skemtar. Now there was smoke in the air, too. Probably damaged stoves and broken lamps had caused fires here and there. They would need fire blankets and lanterns and stretchers for the injured. Water pipes would be damaged, too and the responsible dwarves had to interrupt the water supply in the quarter before everything was flooded and someone drowned under the rubble. All this went through Thorin's head and he groaned. The miners had long overtaken their king. He was getting old, he had to admit to himself. He paused to catch his breath and coughed. The damn smoke and the dust did not make it any better. From afar the king heard Dwalin's roared commands and he was extremely glad, that he and his warriors were already on the spot and tackled the most urgent problems. Thank Mahal!

Fredrin caught up with him fleet-footed. He carried two fire blankets under his arm.

"Oin's on his way", he said.

At last they reached the forecourt of the Skemtar. The air was thick with smoke and dust. The square was not hit but they could see from there the gaping hole in the ceiling. The whole floor of the upper story was missing in a wide area. How wide it really was, they could only guess through the murky view. Their heavy boots splashed through huge puddles, but the water had obviously been turned off or redirected already. At any rate water only trickled down from the broken pipes.

"The injured out here on the square! Get going!", Dwalin's voice barked through the gloom.

Two soldiers carried a dwarf out onto the court. They had tied cloths around their mouths and nose. The wounded was laid down in a corner and the two ran back into the haze. Instead of his left foot the injured only had a bloody stump and he was screaming with pain and terror. Fredrin grew pale and looked at his father helplessly and questioningly. But the king shook his head.

"Oin will be here soon. We can not do anything for him now."

And they ran on towards Dwalin's voice.

"Put the fires out! And look for injured. You! Get some lamps and torches! Or we'll sit in the dark soon!", he just yelled at a troop of helpers, that came running with fire blankets in hands.

Fredrin wanted to join them, but Thorin held him back by the arm.

"Be careful", he whispered.

Fredrin smiled and nodded. Then he ran after the others. The king watched him disappear and suppressed thinking back to the great rockfall in the Iron Mountains. Back then after the first collapse the entire ground with all the rescuers and the injured had broken down onto the next floor and then again onto the next lower. And only then the stone had finally come to a standstill. This tragedy had costed many additional lives among the dwarves that had rushed to help.

The king finally found Dwalin, who provided him briefly with an overview.

"It could have been much worse", he coughed, "If nothing more yields in the ceiling, we got off lightly."

"Don't speak too soon", Thorin groaned.

Dwalin left the supervision to Thorin now and joint the rescuers to lend a hand there.

After three hours the wounded had been recovered and taken into the entrance hall, that was transformed into a hospital. The fires had been extinguished and everything was well lit again. A huge amount of rubble had already been cleared away. Thorin thanked the exhausted first helpers and sent them home. Fresh forces came to replace them. The dust and the smoke had vanished and calm slowly returned.

The square was meanwhile full of worried dwarves who were missing a friend or family member, they had not found among the wounded. For now the inevitable recovery of the dead would begin. Beneath the rocks and huge stone fragments quite a number of dwarves were suspected.

Fredrin stood next to his father. Suddenly the prince noticed Ema and Balin at the edge of the shut-off square and breathed a sigh of relief. So she was fine.

Dwalin came out of the ruins and raised his hand as he saw his brother and his daughter standing there. The warrior had a singed beard and his face was black with soot, sweat and dust. He, too, was about to leave and go home. Fredrin saw him talk with Balin briefly. And he saw Ema began to cry.

Dwalin however turned around, staggered back into the smouldering debris, his gaze frozen with horror. Thorin had also watched the scene and had drawn a conclusion faster than his son this time.

"You take Ema home and stay there with her", he ordered him grimly and followed Dwalin then.