Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.
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38. The Secret of Erebor
They reached the old road in the early morning three days later, stopping just short of the path to allow Legolas to scout ahead. A harsh cawing and the beating of wings that erupted from the woods had all the dwarves ducking as a dark shape swooped overhead to land upon a nearby branch.
"Beware, Durin-King, your enemies are waiting."
Thorin cursed softly at the message, eyes meeting those of his sister and his nephews as all heard the warning given by the raven. A whisper of sound alerted them to Legolas' return as the elf melted from the foliage, glancing with curiosity at the bird, voice barely audible.
"There are two dwarves upon the road."
"So we hear." Thorin murmured, nodding at the bird, which bobbed its head back at him. "Can you get me close enough to see them?"
The elf nodded, the king following without hesitation, though he winced at how loud his footfalls were compared to the other. Several more raucous caws sounded as the raven swooped overhead and out through the branches to exclamations from in front of them. Thorin smiled, grateful once more for the allies he had on his side as he lowered himself to the turf, carefully peering through the bush.
"-said they are still in this cursed forest somewhere. We have men spread out along the road, someone should spot them."
The speaker, when Thorin was able to see him, made him curse softly. In one rush of hatred, the path of the cult became clear, the traitor unmasked, and the king was grateful that his cousin Dain was dead. Had he known the depth of the conspiracy against him, the Lord of the Iron Hills would never have forgiven himself, for the dwarf who had taken his wife's life and stolen any chance of heirs had been welcomed more than once into his very home.
"How do we know that we aren't chasing some legend? No one alive has ever seen signs of a cache within Erebor!"
"It is your own throat you slit with such words, Erfidi. Our Lord tolerates no questions."
"And who is planning on telling him? I'll kill-"
Thorin didn't bother to wait, using the loud argument to cover his movements back through the brush to the others, waving them further away before daring to speak.
"Both are definitely with the cult. They spoke of an ancient cache hidden somewhere within Erebor."
Dwalin's fists tightened on the head of his war hammer while Gloin began cursing softly in at least two languages. Dis just looked as if she were about to be sick, sinking down to sit upon a nearby fallen tree limb with her elder son in close attendance. Kili, however, was rooted to the spot where he stood, face whitening alarmingly. The younger prince seemed to give out a strangled gasp, making his brother turn to him only to grasp the taller dwarf's arm as Kili's body went limp, eyes unfocused and staring into nothing.
"Thorin!"
The king was several steps away, strides hurried, but Gloin was there before him, a hand hooking under Kili's other arm to aid the blonde in lowering his sibling to the ground. Thorin grabbed his pack, shoving it at his cousin to use as a backrest for the stricken prince as he knelt in the dirt by Fili.
"What happened?"
Cool skin met his hands, and a pulse beat reassuringly against fingers pressed to Kili's neck, though it was faster than Thorin liked. Fili shook his head, brow knitting in worry.
"I don't know. He's barely slept the last two nights, so he's seemed only half awake all morning, and then while you were speaking, he just fell against me."
Thorin gave his elder nephew's shoulder a rough, reassuring squeeze before standing and catching the eye of their guide.
"Legolas, will you keep watch upon those on the road? See if you can find us a crossing point."
The elf accepted the assignment with a nod, the dwarf not bothering to watch the other leave as he returned his attention to his kin. Fili had wet some spare cloth and was carefully wiping the sweat from his brother's face, skin almost as pale as Kili's currently was. Thorin sighed as he dropped back to squat in front of them, wishing that there were any way he could take some of this constant worry and strain from the elder. This past week and a half had been so much better for the younger brother, yet whenever there seemed to be a step forward, some new part of the tunnel waited to collapse upon their unwitting heads.
Worse, there was absolutely nothing that their uncle could do to aid them, a situation that only a parent would understand the true agony of. Thorin would willingly die again, fight the most brutal opponent, or wander in exile forever could he but spare them one moment of pain. Perhaps not surprisingly, it was Bofur and Gloin who knelt nearby, the toymaker pressing a water skin into his king's hands, all the agony of Thorin's soul reflected in normally cheerfully dancing eyes.
"Here. See if the lad will take any of this."
Simply grateful for any small comfort he could offer, Thorin gave the other a nod of thanks before turning to his dark-haired nephew and bringing the skin to his lips. The unnerving blankness did not leave Kili's face, but his lips opened as the water touched them and he swallowed the bare trickle Thorin carefully tilted in. Another mouthful, though, had the brunette coughing weakly until the liquid trailed down his chin. Thorin settled back on his heels, the air around him abruptly feeling thick and stifling as no breeze stirred it. A soft noise from above made the dwarf glance up to find the raven perched on a branch, head cocked as it watched the young prince intently.
"What news, mighty raven?"
Thorin asked the bird gravely, noting from the size of the creature that it must be of the royal line from the mountain. They had long been allies to the kings under the mountain, willingly carrying messages in return for aid when weather or men threatened their families. It was an arrangement that had served both sides well, until Smaug came. The raven considered him for a long moment in turn before deciding to answer.
"Enemies surround you, Durin-King. The traitors in the Iron Hills shed not only dwarven blood, but all who ally with you." The black feathers ruffled up in agitation as it hopped down onto the branch nearest Fili. "Wear your metal hide as you walk, Golden-Prince."
The bird bobbed its head several times, beak clacking once, and Thorin grimaced, recognizing the age-old signal that the raven had a confidential message for his ears alone. They would not have the luxury of allowing him to go apart from the others until they had crossed the old road, nor was he certain such precautions were necessary with those of the company.
"Thorin!"
A hand abruptly clutched his arm, making the king startle, and then meet the brown eyes once more focused and aware. Before he could address the prince, he was already attempting to stand using the leverage of his uncle's arm.
"Kili!" Fili quickly restrained his brother. "Easy! Come on, deep breathes…"
The younger prince's chest was heaving as he attempted to suck in air, body quivering with adrenaline as his hand tightened and loosened convulsively on Thorin's arm. Reaching around Fili, the king brought one hand to rest on the back of Kili's neck, kneading at the tense muscles. His other nephew used the opportunity to tilt the water skin to his brother's lips once more as his uncle urged the dwarf to drink.
"Small sips, Kili, that's it. Calm yourself, we will wait."
The next few minutes passed in a silence broken only by the howling of wolves somewhere close by, causing the other dwarves to tense, scanning the surroundings as they physically encircled their king and princes. Slowly, Kili's face regained some of its normal coloring, breathing slowing as the fight or flight response eased, adrenaline subsiding. Finally, he met his uncle's blue gaze, a haunted knowledge reflected there.
"I know what the Death Warriors seek in the mountain. Long ago, a cache of powerful dark artifacts gifted to them by Sauron was hidden there. The door is keyed only to open every one hundred years upon Durin's Day."
"Why did they wait until now to retrieve it? No one was in Erebor one hundred years ago!" Gimli pushed forward, glowering as the others simply stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded by the question. "What?!"
"I'm sure Smaug would've given permission if they'd asked politely."
Gloin retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his son in exasperation. The younger dwarf flushed, and then stalked back to his former position near where Legolas had disappeared into the forest, muttering darkly to himself. Kili smiled faintly at the exchange as the merchant dwarf turned back to him.
"Do you know the location of the cache, Kili?"
"Yes." The prince's face twisted ruefully, "Right now I could probably find my way through the mountain in complete darkness if I had to, but I don't actually remember being there. Fili."
The blonde immediately responded to the unspoken request, standing and drawing the other up with him. Kili wavered on his feet, only his brother and the walking stick Thorin thrust into his hand keeping him upright, then seemed to steady himself, glancing around.
"Where's Legolas?"
"I sent him to-"
Shouts and snarls overrode the king's words, the entire party gripping weapons tightly though it sounded some distance away. Such things were deceptive in the forest, and none wished to be caught unawares, even by mere wolves.
"Fili, Kili, armor! Now!"
Thorin hissed at his nephews, hoping to give the younger dwarves time to prepare should enemies appear from the woods. There was rustling and the clinking of metal behind him, but the king dared not turn to check upon their progress, waiting. A small rustle of the branches had him swinging the great blade only to pull up as his mind identified his would-be foe.
"Legolas!"
The growled name was part reprimand and part exasperation, though the elf did not seem to notice, giving a tight smirk.
"Wait a few moments longer and we should have a safe crossing point."
"Just what did you do now?"
Gimli asked his friend suspiciously, looking the other up and down for signs of damage. Thorin didn't bother to tell the dwarf warrior that the prince wouldn't become slightly dented until they reached a safe camp and the king had the luxury of addressing the advisability of announcing one's presence before startling a clearing full of battle ready warriors with the fool. Legolas shrugged casually, waving a hand negligently back toward where a ruckus could still be heard.
"I doused one of the lone sentries upon the road with blood from the deer we found days ago. The wolf pack that has been stalking us was most accommodating upon scenting it. I had originally saved it thinking to lead them away from us, but the dwarf provided an excellent opportunity. His cries of alarm have doubtless brought all within hearing range to his aid by now. Come, let us go."
The explanation was given in a voice devoid of emotion, as if discussing the chances for rain that night, sending chills down Thorin's spine, though he could not bring himself to feel regret for the cult member. For a species who claimed to live in harmony with nature, elves could be very bloody minded when they so chose! As Fili and Kili finished settling weapons back in place over their armor, Legolas waved the party forward toward the road. There, the elf paused, listening intently to the clash of weapons and snarling of wolves before jerking his head at the dwarves. All quickly followed their guide to cross the old path and dart into the concealing foliage upon the other side, wincing when they heard a loud, high pitched scream resounding from away to their right. The wolves would eat well tonight, it seemed.