As fast as he could Dwalin staggered back over ashes and debris to the remains of the inn, that had developed to the favourite hang-out of the stonemasons during the last couple of years. Two huge slaps of the ceiling had come down here.

Dwalin closed his eyes. He was anything but a coward, but it took all his strength and courage to go on from here. A fallen chair was in his way. He lifted it out of his way and saw a small, bright hand sticking out from under one of the slabs, beneath it a huge blood-stain, already turning brownish.

Dwalin fell to his knees next to it and let out a horrible scream.

He knew this hand. And the striking golden ring it wore left no doubt. It was decorated with small emeralds at the edges and bore the silhouette of the Iron Mountains. Dáin's present to Dwin.

"No!", he roared, "Dwin! No!"

He stumbled to his feet and grabbed the corner of the stone, many hundredweights heavy. With bulging veins and clenched teeth he tried like mad to lift the rock off his wife with all his strength.

Bifur and Bofur had been working close by. Together with three other miners they were able to pull their friend away from it.

"Let me go, you damn bastards! I gotta get her outta there! Let go or I'll tear you apart!", he bellowed at them and they could just barely hold him back among the five of them.

"Dwalin!", Bofur yelled, "Dwalin, listen! Go home to your daughter! You damn well know, what we'll find under that rock. That's got nothing to do with Dwin any more! And by my beard! You will not look at that!"

But Dwalin did not stop fighting and cursing them until suddenly he heard Thorin's harsh voice behind him.

"Dwalin! Look at me!", the king thundered.

Dwalin paused, panting, and the dwarves let go of him. The warrior turned around, his face distorted with pain and horror, and in the next moment Thorin's fist hit him and knocked him right out. The king ordered the miners to take the unconscious dwarf quickly down to the hospital hall.

"Tell Oin to give him something so he stays out of our way. I won't succeed in doing that again", he groaned, shaking his hurting hand, "And now we will take care of Dwin together."

They began to break the stone in smaller chunks with their pickaxes. Nori came to help them, too.

Among the stonemasons word has spread quickly, that Dwin, Helle and Tombur were missing and soon there were many dwarves and dwarrowdams from the guild ready to help with the salvage. Before long the corpses of Tombur and Helle were found nearby, too. With all that help the huge slabs of the ceiling were broken into rubble quickly, loaded onto hand-barrows and carried out. Everyone worked in silence. Finally three of the redoubtable zinc caskets were brought, that were kept ready for victims of rockfall in the mountains.

It was a gruesome task. While the stonemasons took care of the remains of Tombur and Helle, Thorin and his companions did this service as dignified as possible for Dwin. And for Dwalin.

With hands and knifes they carefully took and scraped the remains of skin, crushed bones and organs, torn flesh, hair and brain mass of the floor. The smell of the destroyed body was almost unbearable and they tried to avoid breathing through their noses. They placed everything they could retrieve in the caskets. Also the blood-soaked clothes, boots and personal belongings.

Dwin's beautiful necklace with the orc tooth was rubbed into the floor like butter on bread, but Thorin took great pains to find every little piece of it.

Actually only her one hand with the ring that Dwalin had seen first had remained intact. Thorin considered briefly, pulled the ring from Dwin's cold, dead finger and he could not ward off a shiver running down his spine.

Then he gently laid the hand on top of everything else in the casket, stroked over it tenderly and thought to this courageous, heartfelt and sincere dwarrowdam. His best friend's wife, his One. The love of Dwalin's life. With a deep sigh he closed the firm lid of the case tightly. Then he pocketed the ring safely, got up, stretching his aching back with a groan and wiped his hand on his trousers.

"I'll take her down to Fundin's tomb", he said, trying to pick up the casket.

But it was surprisingly heavy for its size. He moaned.

"Never you mind. We'll do that. Lead the way", Bofur said with a weary grin.

He and Bifur took the case on both sides and carried it after him. Thorin unlocked the tomb with his master key and the two put down the heavy zinc coffin with care.

On his way home the king inquired about the injured and about Dwalin in the hall. Oin was tired, but content. They had done for everyone what could be done. The ones only slightly wounded had gone home already and two of the less fortunate victims would probably not survive the night. The others were treated and slept on cots and camp beds in the hall.

Dwalin slept like dead, too. He would escape his sorrow for a few more hours.

Then Thorin went on and knocked softly at Balin's door. Ori opened. From inside Ema's sobs were heard. Thorin did not want to come in, for he was afraid the smell of smoke and death and the blood on his hands would frighten Ema. So he passed on the sad news to Ori briefly and gave him the ring, so they had certainty and also knew about Dwalin's whereabouts. Fredrin was still there but went home with his father now. In silence they walked up the stairs together. Their eyes met when they had reached the familiar hallway of their rooms. They had both seen terrible things today, but it was too early to talk about it. Father and son pressed their foreheads together and both went to their rooms without any further word.

So it was way after midnight when Thorin finally entered his home. He was dead tired, but before he did anything else, he felt an urgent need to wash off blood and dirt. He threw his soiled clothes to the ground, plunged into the warm water and was infinitely relieved that this terrible day was coming to an end. He washed thoroughly and went to see Alwa. She just came in from the hall.

"Where have you been?", he asked.

"Over at Fredrin. I wanted to hear from him how he feels. And again I was stunned how very strong our son is", she answered.

"Unlike his old father", Thorin sighed, pulling her close to him.

To his astonishment Alwa began to cry bitterly.

"Unlike his useless mother", she sobbed, "Why did I not see it coming in time? How much suffering could have been prevented! Dwin is dead and so many other too! You have a seeress who does not see!"

"Sssh… If it could have been seen, you would have seen it. Nobody reproaches you, my treasure", he reassured her.

"Dwalin will", she said bitterly.

"If he does, do not hold it against him. He will suffer terribly. Just as I would in his stead. Oh, Alwa… I would not survive losing you", Thorin murmured.

They held each other in a tight embrace.

At last she kissed him and said:

"You must be very tired. Let us go to sleep, my heart."

When they later lay arm in arm in the dark, Thorin whispered:

"I am old."

"Yes. How wonderful", said Alwa, "I will not become that old."

"Please, do not say that. Not today", he groaned.

"Sssh. Do not worry, my heart. I will not leave this side before you go. But soon after you", she whispered back.

Only slowly Dwalin came back to his senses. Still dazed by Oin's hypnotic, he wondered about the voices around him. The memory of the past day somehow refused to return immediately. Had he drunk too much? His mouth and throat were parched. He was so very thirsty. Hopefully Dwin had tea ready. And... damn it! What day was it anyway?

At last he opened his eyes and saw, blurred and blinking, Ema and Balin sitting next to his bed. What the hell were they doing in their bedroom? He turned to see what Dwin would say to that. But there was no one. This was not his bedroom and certainly not his bed. What was going on here?

He rubbed his aching chin. Thorin… Thorin had knocked him down. The hand! Dwin's hand under that rock.

And the memory suddenly hit him with the impact of another rockfall. He sat up with a jerk. Now he recognized the hall, the wounded around him and Ema's tear-stained face.

His daughter stretched out her arms to him and he embraced her.

"Pa!", she sobbed, starting to cry wearily.

Dwalin looked over Ema's shoulder to his brother and in his distressed gaze stood the question, he could not utter aloud. Balin nodded, fighting back his tears.

"Dwin has died in that rockfall yesterday. They have recovered her last night", he said softly.

Then he reached for his brother's hand and put a small object into it. Dwin's ring. The one that king Dáin had given her at the festival before the reindeer hunt. What a happy day that had been.

Dwalin wrapped his massive hand around it, pressed Ema even tighter to himself and closed his eyes.

Fredrin entered the hall coming from the stables with Tul by his side. His father had sent him to Dale this morning to pick up his sister and to inform Dís and Bard about the outcome of yesterday's disaster. He saw the three mourners just leaving the hall together. Dwalin, staggering and bowed with grief, his arm around Ema's shoulders. And to Fredrin it seemed as if the petite dwarrowdam had to support her father.

Tul had followed her brother's gaze.

"Perhaps she's staying now", she said softly.

"Huh?", the prince replied confused.

"I am talking about Ema, you half-wit. Do you think she will leave her dad alone like that now?", she asked.

Fredrin's heart did a somersault twice. He had not thought about that. Then he shook his head.

"If she stays because of that, she's not staying for the right reason, little sister", he answered, sighing deeply.

"Do not tell me you wouldn't want it nevertheless, big brother", she whispered to him and frowned.

The siblings set out for the stairs.

"Prince Fredrin! Wait, please!", one of the wounded with a heavily bandaged shoulder called out to them and raised his hand, "I would like to thank you, Highness. You got me out of there yesterday", he said deferentially.

"How are you today?", Fredrin asked politely and Tul by his side, gave the injured one of her enchanting smiles.

The dwarf blushed, highly embarrassed by the attention of both of the king's children. He was cook in one of the destroyed inns and never in his life had he been that close to someone of the royal family. Not to mention to talk to one of them.

"The healer say it'll be all right eventually", he answered shyly and hardly even dared to look at the princess.

"I am glad to hear that", Fredrin said honestly.

His sister and he talked here and there to one of the other victims. Tul had them tell her their story, showed her compassion and wished them a quick recovery. Fredrin knew, that Tul could be a calculating brat, but when it really mattered, she did her duty, like she was supposed to.

She, too, would take over first small official responsibilities in a few years. And she would do it well, Fredrin was convinced.

And suddenly he was glad, she was with him. She would be and would remain his confidant, he thought and smiled at her.

Surprised she smiled back.

Then she asked her brother to show her the side of the rockfall and the two went to the Skemtar together. The edges of the broken stones had been secured and the clean up was in full swing.

Last evening's events were still vivid on Fredrin's mind and he told Tul everything down to the last detail. His sister listened gravely and silent. They walked about, always anxious not to stand in somebody's way.

"This must have been where Ema's mother was found", he said softly as they reached the heavily damaged inn.

"Did… uh, have you seen it?", she asked.

"No. Father sent me to take Ema home and stay with her and Balin. He himself helped with the salvage of the…well, of Ema's mother. It must have been pretty dreadful. This morning father told me that only one hand had been unscathed", the prince answered.

"Oh, no… Just imagine this had been our mother", she whispered.

"Believe me, I did just that half the night. And the injuries I did see! Mahal. The pictures won't leave your head", he replied gloomily.

They came closer. And the princess suddenly recognized the large, dark-brown stains on the ground as what they were. Groaning, she turned away from the sight and reached out for Fredrin.

And the prince suddenly feeling deeply moved by his brotherly affection put his arms around her in a comforting embrace. She clung to him, frightened by the disturbing presence of death and pain around her. He held her tight and soothingly stroked her back. After all the horrors and all the grief he had seen it felt good to hold someone and be held himself.

Lost in thought he closed his eyes and tenderly kissed his sister's forehead.

"Fredrin! Let go of her!", thundered a harsh, angry voice behind them.

Startled, brother and sister turned around.

Their father came up to them with a furious face, pulling him away vigorously from his sister. Fredrin was completely confused and Tul looked at her father without understanding also.

Thorin seemed to come back to his senses. He fell silent. His right hand still clenched painfully firm around Fredrin's arm, he gasped all of a sudden and grabbed at his chest. His face turned white and he dropped on his knees.

"Father!", Tul cried and rushed to his side.

Together they were able to help their father get up and lead him to an overturned crate, where the king sat down, leaning heavy against his son. Cold sweat stood on his brow and the pain in his chest took his breath away. It felt like a troll sitting on his body.

Fredrin beckoned a carpenter passing by.

"Run and get the healer! Now! Hurry!", the prince ordered sharply.

Without any objection the dwarf threw away the wooden beam he was carrying and ran off.

Two hours later, Alwa sat at Thorin's bed and held his hand.

Oin had been there and thoroughly examined the king. The healer was worried. Besides the medication he exhorted his patient to rest and avoid all excitement urgently. The pain in his chest had subsided, leaving a leaden fatigue.

When it was clear that there was not any immediate danger, Fredrin went to Balin, to see, if there was anything he could help with and Brit persuaded Tul to come with her and eat something.

"You have frightened us all, my heart. Especially the children, it seems", the queen said, when they were alone, and she gently caressed Thorin's face.

"Yes, I guess I did. And in more than one way, I am afraid", he replied and sighed deeply.

Alwas penetrating gaze rested on him and he hesitantly continued:

"I went to the accident site this morning and found Fredrin holding Tul in his arms, kissing her forehead. And when I saw them… so intimately. It was as if I had Dís and myself in front of me. And I yelled at our son and pulled the two apart. And then this started."

He tapped on his chest.

"Even if Fredrin would feel for Tul like you did for Dís, you would certainly not avert it by yelling at them", the queen said reproachfully.

"I know. It was a mistake. He does everything right. And everything so much better than me! I have to talk to him urgently", the king said tiredly.

Alwa just smiled and kissed him.

Thorin would have liked to ask her if it would happen this way. Whether one day, after a foolish, violent fit of temper, his heart would stop beating. But he knew she would not tell him.

Balin had already heard about Thorin's breakdown and was glad when Fredrin came and offered his help, for the death of his sister-in-law had deeply hurt him also. Dwin had grown very dear to him over the years.

The prince briefly reported about his father's condition and then asked shyly how Ema and her father were doing. His opposite sighed.

"Frankly, I do not think Dwalin will ever be the same again. I have never seen him that devastated. It is good that Ema is still with him. Kái must be on his way here also. I sent a message last night with a courier. Oh, Mahal! When we were looking for Dwin and her master told us she was out and about with Tombur and Helle, who were also missing… Fredrin, I tell you, my heart skipped a beat. I was almost certain she was...", Balin replied grief stricken but broke off.

Fredrin nodded.

They divided the tasks among them and went to work.

Early that evening Fredrin went around the hall, spoke to the injured here and there and helped with the distribution of the evening meal. He always kept an eye on the gate and waited for Kái. At last a small group of dwarves with luggage and in travel clothes appeared and entered the mountain's gate.

Fredrin immediately recognized his friend, although they had not seen each other for months. Because one in the group towered over the others a whole head. The prince lifted his hand and went over to welcome him. Kái did not quite have the mass of his father yet but his shoulders were at least as wide and the muscles on his arms and legs testified the daily work with heavy stones and tools. Fredrin actually had the impression Dwalin would have to look up to another dwarf for the first time today. The prince was so glad to see Kái that he had to be careful not to smile too broadly, for the reason of his visit was not a joyful one of course.

They greeted each other and exchanged a few words about the journey.

Then Fredrin began embarrassed:

"Kái, I am terribly sorry your mother had this accident. I liked her very, very much. She was like a second mother to me."

His friend nodded and looked down at the ground.

"Thank you", he murmured, shouldering his bundle anew.

His relatives joined them and Fredrin welcomed them too in the Erebor. The dwarves set out for Dwalin and Ema and before leaving the hall Kái turned around to his friend and raised his hand.

He called out to him:

"See ya later then."

"Sure!", Fredrin answered and smiled.

He had so much to talk to his friend about and was eager to spend time with him. But it was of course clear to him that Kái needed time with his family now and time for his own grief.

Two days later, it was evening already, a servant knocked and told the prince that Kái, son of Dwalin, wanted to see him. Fredrin jumped up, delighted, grabbed his coat and ran to the entrance. Kái waited in front of the guards.

Together they went down on a beer in one of the intact inns in the Skemtar. They found a quiet table in the corner. After the waitress had brought two mugs of beer and a large bowl of savoury biscuits, they both took a sip.

Kái leaned his head back and groaned:

"Ema just fell asleep in my arm and I could carry her to bed. Finally. She's been sitting day and night next to Pa and cried. And Pa's still sitting down there in the crypt, staring at that damn zinc case. I can't bear it any more."

He wiped his eyes. Full of compassion, Fredrin let him talk and Kái told him his father was barely responsive and left all the preparations for tomorrow's funeral service to Balin and to his brother-in-law from the Iron Mountains. Ori had worked out a wonderful pattern for the stone coffin and that had been commissioned in Dwin's former workshop. Her brother and her son would work on it together with Dwin's workmates. At least until this work was completed Kái and his uncle would remain in the Erebor. And Ema certainly too, Fredrin hoped. The actual entombment would take place then.

"I think Pa's completely going to bits", Kái said softly, shaking his head, "I mean, we're all sad and it hurts like hell to know Ma's gone..."

His voice broke and it took him a moment to recover.

"But seeing Pa like that is scary", he added, when he regained control of himself again.

Kái took another big gulp of beer and changed the subject.

"Where were you when it happened? And how's your father?", he asked.

Fredrin took a deep breath and began telling him for his part. About the rockfall, the rescue work and the strange tantrum of his father, that had obviously caused his breakdown. His friend first looked at him thoughtfully, but suddenly avoided eye contact and stared at the floor.

"What?", Fredrin asked.

"Let me get that straight. He was angry with you when you embraced Tul and pulled you apart?", Kái asked back visibly ill-at-ease.

Fredrin nodded and said:

"So it seemed to me at least. I have no idea really! Why?", he wanted to know.

"Well...", Kái replied evasively.

"What?", the prince insisted, frowning now.

"Believe me, Fredrin, I've threatened all those talking about that with the beating of their life! But there are those rumours… And I did not only hear them once. Even my uncle says that everyone's badmouthing the king for decades about that. Since the times in Ered Luin already. And only since he tied the knot with your mother this changes. Now they slag him off because he supposedly took away the Iron Mountain's seeress! Boneheads! You know, I'm really happy there with my work at my uncle's place, but I don't think I want to stay there later. I mean after my apprenticeship", Kái replied.

He took another sip of beer, moved closer to his friend and continued in a muted tone:

"Listen Fredrin. I have no idea where they got this bullshit from, but they all say that between your father and your aunt things were closer than they should have been. I mean really close. Unseemly for brother and sister."

Fredrin's stared at his friend open-mouthed and horrified. He was speechless. Kái, who saw what these words did to his friend, seized him by the shoulder.

"Hey, I'm not saying, there is any truth in this gossip!", he tried to calm him down.

But Fredrin thought back to remarks, conversations and incidents, that never made fully sense to him as a child and that now suddenly became a distinct meaning. And it also explained the angry face of his father at the close embrace with Tul.

Painful disillusionment spread within Fredrin. His infallible father, the great king under the mountain, the hero of so many songs, his example and idol since he could remember.

"I think I need something stronger than beer", Fredrin groaned.

"I'm in", Kái sighed.

So they ordered malt liquor and two bottles of corn spirits. And they both drowned their pain. One of them his grief and the other one disappointment.