Chapter 37: The Uncovered Past

Dwalin watched as the rubble they had been excavating, that had blocked the entrance to the southwest quarters, was finally moved away completely. In a daze, he lit a torch and walked through the grey, dusty passages and rooms, left exactly as they were when the dragon came. He could not hear the rubble of the other guards and excavators; he gingerly stepped to avoid the many bodies strewn on the ground - they would have to be buried properly and he would see to it. Dwalin recognized among them many relatives.

Ghosts. Ghosts of past memories, buried here for one hundred years. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to remember which passageway had been their family home, and determine whether it could be reached.

Finally Dwalin found his way to an old door, a grand door. Brushing dust and cobwebs away he uncovered the runes carved elegantly out of the silver plate - Fundin son of Farin.

Slowly Dwalin tried the door - it worked, miraculously, as if not a day had passed. But Dwalin did not open it. Turning away, with urgency, he ran.

"You can't leave, sir," a young soldier said, calling after him,

"Please," Dwalin said, coming back to the present, "Go find Lord Balin, go find Lady Malin. Bring them here at once - there's something they need to see."

Malin breathlessly followed the young miner Dwalin had sent to the site. She intrigued - as the youngest member of their family and born outside of Erebor, she had never known what life was like before the Fall of Erebor. Her earliest memories were of the tents and shacks in which they lived, the bitter winters and tragic battles, and then, life in the Iron Hills - never Erebor.

Dwalin and Balin remembered- the distant past they had tried to put behind them to start a new life in the Blue Mountains now seemed to close, so tangible, nearer than it had been for about a hundred years.

"Sister," said Dwalin, pulling her through the dusty rubble. Dwalin helped her as she puled the outer layer of her dress over her face and eyes and tried to follow the light of the torch. Then she was face to face with the closed door. It was ornate and spoke of luxury and comfort.

"This was our home," said Dwalin, puling her in and pushing the door aside, "This was where we lived."

Malin followed the light of Dwalin's torch as she looked at the extremely dusty remains. Time had stood still the moment the dragon came. The family had rushed to save their skins and had not been able to carry anything in Exile.

Dwalin stepped forward and touched an ancient vase,

"This belonged to your great-grandfather. I broke it on the day Erebor fell, rushing to save our mother... and I never looked back."

"We're looking back now," said Malin, kneeling beside it. Picking up a shard and dusting it with a skirt she was amazing to find the pattern bright - the ceramic vase was covered in gems and rubies.

Dwalin was now going around the room - dusty tapestries that once were bright with silver and gold, curtains of the finest silk and brocade, brass mirrors, stone carvings, a marble table - once riches of a thriving, affluent and powerful family in Erebor.

"Don't touch it," came Balin's voice from behind, stopping Dwalin from pulling at the curtains, "There's enough dust here as it is."

"What are we going to do, brother?" Dwalin asked,

"Clean and repair the quarters, " said Balin, walking in gingerly and in awe, with clouded eyes, "Have whatever is left repaired."

"There were four bedrooms, I remember," said Dwalin, "Besides the dining room, parlour, library..."

"We had our own library?" gasped Malin.

Balin shrugged and said, "It'll be too big for us to live in now."

"We can't let someone else move in here," protested Dwalin, "It has father's name on the doorpost!"

"Dwalin..."

"Carved into stone, brother! What shall we do, smash the whole doorpost away?"

"Dwalin, this is our property," said Balin, "Our quarters now will have to be returned to the king. As soon as this place is livable, we will move in here."

There was rumbling from the alley.

"What's that ruckus?" Malin wondered, hearing loud shouts, muffled by the echo in the stone halls, waft in.

Balin recognized the sound and chuckled.

"Those, lassie, are the sons of Groin."

"They lived across the hall from us, " Dwalin remembered, slapping his forehead with his hand.

"Remember when Oin used to come in after a night of drinking," Balin laughed, "Stone drunk and singing so loud... he threw up on our doorstep."

"Don't tell her old stories, brother," Dwalin protested,

"Plenty of yours as well," Balin winked as him,

"I'd like to hear," Balin said,

"Another time, lass, " said Balin, who then looked at Dwalin with mischief in his eyes, "We don't want to cross their paths while they're this happy. No doubt Gloin's axe..."

"Argh..." Dwalin felt for his mutilated earlobe, "Do you know when I lost half my ear, sister?"

"When was that?"

"Gloin's engagement," Dwalin grumbled, "He was too excited...I never liked that wife of his."

"Anyway," Balin was leading them to the side where they pushed their way through several rooms before arriving at a dead wall, "Come along. I know another way out."

"The part of Erebor we're living in now... whose was it before?" inquired Malin,

"Most of the rooms used as living quarts now are only in a small section of Erebor," said Balin, "They used to house miners and their families, mostly. And jewel-workers and smiths - they were noble professions. The nobles of Durin's Folk lived in the destroyed section here. The king's chambers were all but destroyed so where the royal family live in now used to be the guest quarters."

"Ah," said Malin, "And our offices?"

"Former servants quarters. We used to have many..."

Balin was leading them through a secret passageway that led from their family chambers to the a wide open passage, one that Malin knew and frequented. The secret stone doors could only be open with a key - they slid out, and when closed, appeared invisible.

"The training arena is where it used to be," said Dwalin, "First thing we restored was "

Balin held out to his hand to Malin, now that they had left the secret passageway. He uncurled his fist to reveal an emerald pendant.

"Your father had red hair, Malin, do you remember?" Balin said, "So did mother. But Dwalin and I had brown hair. Emeralds were mother's favourite jewels and I picked up her pendant from one of the rooms. Keep it."

Malin touched it gingerly, feeling now as shaken as Dwalin and Balin were. This was the first thing of her mother's she had ever had.

"Thank you, brother, " she said, "Maybe we can spend the winter restoring our home, and while we do that, can you tell me more about our mother?"

Balin and Dwalin exchanged looks.

"Of course, my dear, " Balin patted her hand, "Sometimes I forget you never knew her. You shall here of Mother and Father and our uncles and aunts and great-aunts and great-uncles and cousins and all the rest."

"Except cousin Morin," Dwalin groaned, "Not cousin Morin."

Balin winked at Malin behind Dwalin's back as they made their way back to their separate quarters to have a thorough bath. Balin's white hair had actually turned from all the dust.