A/N: I apologise. That is all.

Read and enjoy,

TTC.


/THE HEART OF EREBOR\

ACT V

-The King Beneath the Mountain-

Chapter 45

The Deep Breath

"Dead?" Bilbo squeaked in alarm, eyes widening as he stared at the dwarf on the other side of the bars, searching for a joke where none was to be found. "What do you mean 'dead'?"

"He means just that," Nori spoke up from his own prison. "Dead dead. Gone dead. Dead as a doornail dead."

"Yes, I got that, thank you." Waving away Nori's words, Bilbo kept his eyes on Bofur. "I meant how? Why?"

"They poisoned him," Bofur said frankly, his normal playfulness missing, his manner as grave as Bilbo had ever seen it. "As to the why… Well, that'll take a bit of explaining."

Warily, the hobbit cast a glance at the stairs he had descended in order to find the missing members of the Company. There was a guard stationed at the top, he knew, but so far the noise they had made did not seem to have drawn his attention, perhaps because his prisoners had not exactly been quiet to begin with. Trusting that his luck would hold with the same tenacious surety as it always did he took a step closer to his imprisoned friends.

"Tell me what you can," he said. "I will carry a message to Kíli and the others."

Bofur hesitated a moment, his eyes darting quickly about the other members of the Company. Having received both approval and permission, he turned back to the burglar as he began to speak, quickly yet quietly.

"You know how things were before you left," he started from the very beginning. "Everything up in the air and everyone pointing fingers at everyone else. We all reckoned Kíli going and handing the reins over to Dain would put a stop to it, but it didn't. If it wasn't the Arkenstone they were harping on about it was Kíli himself being missing, there was always something in the way, some reason not to recognize Dain's claim to the throne."

"We all thought it was greed," Gloin added helpfully. "He was inheriting a mountain of gold. That was bound to cause problems."

"Dain took it all in his stride." Bofur carried on. "Kept his mind on proper business and let those with nothing better to do worry about the rest of it. It dragged on for weeks, for months, then finally the Seven decided they couldn't have a king without the Arkenstone they'd all sworn their oaths on, and that was that. They packed up shop and we were left in peace."

"Peace, he says!" Oin snorted. "Call a spade a spade, lad, we don't have time for riddles."

"Yes, well, it would have been peaceful," Bofur amended. "And it was, for a short time. Dain wasn't much bothered by whether or not he was called 'Lord' or 'King', and most of the dwarves living here called him the latter anyway. Erebor's restoration was going well, dwarves came from the Iron Hills, and elsewhere, as the news spread. The mountain was coming back to life, we were starting to see what it once was, and could be again. Then, about three months ago, things went horribly wrong."

"It started with a banquet," Bombur informed him mournfully. "The entire thing was ruined. We didn't get to eat a single bite."

"It was a disgrace, is what it was," Dori sniffed, sounding every bit as wounded as he looked. "To accuse the Men of Dale of treachery is one thing, to accuse us…"

"Stop, stop!" Bofur waved his hands at them all. "Let me explain it, or Bilbo will be completely lost."

"I'm not lost yet," Bilbo assured him. "There was a banquet? A celebration?"

"Aye." Bofur nodded. "But, in truth, I believe the trouble started before that, and it wasn't exactly something to be celebrated. People started going missing, you see. Young lads and lasses just up and vanished, one or two at a time. We didn't think much of it, at first. Erebor is a big place, and a lot of newcomers made it hard to keep track of everyone. Many of them were traveling to and fro from Dale, helping with the rebuilding. We thought they'd stayed in the city, or were in Erebor but elsewhere than where they ought to be. But then it started happening more often, more went missing, and awkward questions started being asked. Lord Áfast heard most of them. He was in charge of those working in Dale, so people went to him, and he promised to speak to Dain. To get an explanation for what badly needed explaining.

"That was when the banquet was announced. We had the forges up and running, all of them, and the mountain ready to be worked again. What with Dale coming along so well, Dain decided we were due a little festivity. He invited Bard and some of his lot, and they came with barrels of that fine, Laketown wine the Master of Esgaroth was kind enough to share during our stay there. Right before the feast was set to begin Lord Áfast rose to make a toast with that same wine, took one sip, and fell convulsing to the floor. He was dead by the time a healer could be summoned, and all of Erebor was in an uproar."

"Are you…?" Bilbo started, then stopped, certain he had misunderstood. "Are you saying the Men of Dale poisoned Lord Áfast? That they were kidnapping people?"

"That's what everyone was thinking," Bofur answered him. "Or what they suspected, but, as Nori pointed out, it didn't make any sense if you really stopped to think about it. Neither the poisoning nor the kidnapping. So we had Oin take a look at the barrels, to see if he could figure out what had gone wrong, and he found-"

"Nothing," Oin cut in, demonstrating that remarkable tendency his hearing had to come and go on the basis of convenience. "There was nothing wrong with the wine. The poison had been put in his cup, and the Men of Dale weren't in charge of the serving."

"We figured that the half a barrel we polished off to test the theory was proof enough," Bofur took up the tale again. "So we asked for an audience with the King, and Nori sent a raven to Bard in Dale, to tell him what we were about."

"Only, to our misfortune," Gloin drawled. "He was seen, and we were all accused of playing a part in a plot to kill the King."

"Ridiculous!" Dori stated indignantly, as Bifur echoed his sentiments with sharp, decisive hand movements. "To even think we would take part in such a thing!"

"Dain's council was baying for blood." Ignoring the interruptions, Bofur continued, "I think half of them wanted us to face the penalty due to all traitors, but Dain wouldn't hear of it, not without substantial proof."

"No," Dori interjected again. "He just locked us down here out of the way instead. In the cold and the damp-"

"Would you leave off?" Nori snapped at him. "It's not cold or wet, you've got a bed with a proper blanket and are properly fed. We slept in worse places on the way here."

"Like Mirkwood," Ori recalled with a shudder, memories stirred no doubt by more than his brother's words. Bilbo was certain none of the Company had forgotten their captivity in the woodland realm.

"Exactly like Mirkwood, I hope," Nori agreed, stepping to the edge of his cell to look hopefully at Bilbo. "What do you think, Master Baggins? Got another set of keys in your pocket?"

"Not just yet," he admitted regretfully, then swung back to Bofur. "What about the dwarves that went missing?" he pressed. "What happened to them?'

"I couldn't tell you, lad." Bofur shook his head. "We haven't had any news since we were put down here. Well, until you showed up that is."

"I see." Bilbo paused in thought, his mind racing, a dozen choices laid before him. "But if you had to guess…?"

"It wasn't a Man who poisoned that wine," Nori said darkly before Bofur could formulate a response. "And I'll wager Dale had nothing to with those that went missing, either. Do you know what the strangest thing about the whole affair was? It wasn't their families who went looking. It was their friends, their comrades. Brothers, sister, mothers, and fathers, they asked no questions."

"You think they knew where they were all along?" Puzzled, Bilbo questioned the thief. "But then why wouldn't they say so?"

"Knowing where they are doesn't mean knowing they're safe," Gloin intoned quietly, and cold realization settled over Bilbo like a shroud.

"I'll look for them," he said impulsively. "If I can find them, maybe they can tell us what's really been going on around here."

"Look for the keys, too, won't you?" Nori urged. "This place may not be as miserable as sleeping outside in a rainstorm, but I'd dearly like to stretch my legs a little."

"And make sure to warn Dís and Kíli," Bofur added. "They shouldn't stay in Erebor any longer than they absolutely need to. It's not safe."

"I will, and I'll try," Bilbo promised, already slipping the Ring from his pocket. Hesitating a moment longer, he added in an effort to reassure, "I'll come back for you."

"You had better," Bofur answered him with a wry smile. "We're rather counting on it."

~The Heart of Erebor~

If the journey to Erebor had been nerve-racking, Kíli found the act of departing from the mountain no less so. Gripped by the urge to constantly glance over his shoulder as his stomach churned and his heart thundered in his chest, he held Fidget's reins in a death-grip and resolutely did not turn in his saddle to see if the eyes he could feel bearing into the back of his head were real or just a phantasm conjured by his overactive mind.

It did not help, of course, that the majority of his companions had chosen him as the resting place for their gazes, the silence that enshrouded them both expectant and impatient. That was his fault as much as theirs, he supposed, for, had he answered their questions when they were first asked instead of insisting they wait until they were well beyond Erebor's shadow, there would have been no need to curiosity. Instead he had erred on the side of caution, judging that, if Dain did not see fit to speak freely within the walls of a realm he governed, Kíli himself was better off not doing so either.

As Erebor slipped away behind them and Dale grew ever larger on the horizon Dís nudged her mount into a trot, waiting until she had drawn level with her son before reining it back to a walk. Kíli deliberately did not look her way, waiting for her to speak first as he attempted to gather his scattered thoughts, incredibly conscious of both Dwalin and Balin behind him, and how little his words had meant to them when last he had voiced any of importance. He needed to be certain of what he was going to say before he was said it, and ready to defend himself should they argue.

"Now, then." Unable to hold her tongue in check any longer, Dís broke the silence. "We are far from any unfriendly ears here. What was it you could not say inside Erebor's walls?"

"Before I left the mountain," Kíli took a deep breath, commanded his racing heart to settle, and forged onwards. "There was a council."

"To decide who would inherit." His mother nodded. "As though they had any right to take that from you."

"Yes, well." His mother's views on this matter had already been aired on multiple occasions, and Kíli endeavoured to keep her focus on what was more important at present. "During that council one of Dain's court asked me a question; How was Erebor to trust a king who would hand its greatest treasure to the enemy? Who would give the Arkenstone away? I answered him that I had not, for Erebor greatest treasure was not the Arkenstone, but its people."

He paused a moment, letting the words sink in, then went on.

"I do not know Dain as well as you or Thorin, ma, but all I have heard and seen of his actions – in Moria, in Ered Luin, and here, in Erebor itself – has spoken of his bravery, loyalty, and honour. What has been most apparent, however, above all else, is his regard for his people. It was their welfare he was concerned for when he told me I was neglecting my duties. They are what he values most, and they are what he will not risk. He told us as much, in my own words, and I think that's important. I betrayed Thorin because it was the only way I could see to try and save us all from what seemed a certain death. What if Dain is refusing us for the same reason?"

"But he cannot think Thorin is a danger to them," Dís protested, rising in defense of her sibling.

"He could." And none of them would be able to argue, Kíli knew. They had been there. They had seen. That they had chosen to forgive was no guarantee others would be as gracious. "But I don't think that is all there is to it. If it were, would he not have said so? Plainly, and without the chance for misunderstandings? He was always very straightforward with me before."

"And always," Balin confirmed his supposition. "You are right, Kíli. Were he free to say as he wished, Dain would not bite his tongue for our sake."

"But he was free to speak," Dís objected, frowning. "We were alone, and plain words would have served him far better than riddles whose meaning can only be guessed at."

"There were guards outside the door," Balin reminded her, his expression pinched. "A chance of being overheard. Do not forget that at least one member of Dain's court is not what he pretends to be. There may be more, and Dain may be as much a prisoner in Erebor as he is a king."

Disbelieving still, Dís shook her head. "Dain would never allow himself to be controlled by anyone. Certainly not by his own council. He is as headstrong as any Heir of Durin, I pity the fool who would try to dictate to him."

"If only his own life was at risk? Then, yes, I would be inclined to agree with you," Balin replied. "But if Kíli is right then it is not Dain alone who may suffer the consequences of any rash act. We must not forget that Valin has had years to lay his plans, and may have more traps to spring than we know of. We must be careful in our own actions, lest we make matters worse. If we are lucky we will know more once Bilbo returns."

"If he returns," Dwalin murmured without conviction.

"Come now, brother," Balin chided him. "This is our burglar we are talking about. When has he ever failed us?"

~The Heart of Erebor~

Fíli was waiting for his brother's party at the top of the Overlook, seated on the tip of the rise with his legs stretched out before him, and if he had only stopped there because his leg was paining him after the steep climb, well, that was something neither Thorin nor Kíli needed to know. Levering himself back to his feet as the riders came into view he grimaced briefly, spending that necessary moment to get his balance, then limped forward to greet them, not failing to take note of the discontented expressions the moonlight did not hide.

"What happened?" he asked as they drew near, amending his question almost immediately when he caught sight of his brother's ashen hue. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Kíli assured him, slipping from the saddle to walk beside him as the others rode on to the camp. His words sounded certain enough, but Fíli would have been more convinced had his pallor not been more akin to that of a ghost than a living being. "Or as fine as any of us can be. Did Thorin speak with Bard?"

"He did." Dubiously accepting Kíli's words as truth, Fíli obliged him with an answer, "Bard was very beneficent. More so than Uncle was expecting, I think."

"That would not be hard." Kíli gave him a wan smile, and his brother returned it.

"No," he agreed. "I suppose not. Still, he was good enough to share all he knew with us, and to offer his help to resolve the situation, should we need it. He is as eager as anyone, I think, to avoid any further conflict. And what of Dain? Were you able to speak with him? What did he have to say?"

"A lot," his sibling answered him, handing Fidget off to the handler who came forward as they entered the camp itself. "And not as much as we wished for. He didn't give us a chance to raise the matter of Valin, or to ask after the rest of the Company. All that was truly spoken of was the throne, Erebor, and whether he was willing to relinquish either to Thorin."

Fíli suspected he knew the answer he would receive, but asked the necessary question anyway, "And is he?"

"Not in the slightest." Kíli shook his head. "At least, that is how it appears on the surface."

"But you think there's more to it?"

"I think…" Kíli paused, grimacing as he tugged absently on the constricting collar of his formal tunic. "I don't know. I do think there is more to it, but even if there isn't…" Coming to a halt well outside the light thrown by the campfire around which the rest of their companions had gathered, Kíli turned to meet Fíli's stare directly. "Even if there isn't, Dain's objections weren't unfounded. He didn't say anything that wasn't true, though ma didn't want to listen. Fíli, even if we stop Valin, even if everything else is settled, what happened here won't change."

"I know." There was no way he could not know, for Thorin was not the only one who might wish that the ability to change the past was within his power. "That is why we are here. To fix what we can fix now."

"Yes, but…" Kíli hesitated, pulling at his collar again, scowling into the distance over Fíli's shoulder. "I'm not sure that we're going to be able to."

Sensing that this was more than his younger sibling's normal insecurity speaking, Fíli prodded gently, "Why do you say that?"

"The dwarves of Ered Luin know what happened," Kíli said by way of a roundabout explanation. "They have chosen to follow Thorin regardless, thinking they know the danger. But they were not here. They did not see it for themselves. Not as you and I did. Not as Dain did. They do not understand what it is to face overwhelming odds on a battlefield thinking your king has abandoned you to it."

He made no mention of what it was to face a blade meant for death held in the hands of a loved one, but Fíli knew he must have thought it.

"And you think it will be less easy for those who do understand to forgive?" he guessed, finally latching onto his brother's true concern. "You believe that, having borne direct witness to Thorin's mistakes, they will not be so lenient?"

"I am simply saying that I would understand if they did hesitate," Kíli corrected him softly. "That they have reason to."

"Well." Fíli considered a moment. "You may be right. I am certain there will be some who are not at peace with the idea of Thorin ruling over Erebor, perhaps even many, but there is something you are forgetting."

"There is?" Curiously, Kíli cast him a questioning glance.

"Of all the people Thorin may have mistreated under the influence of the gold sickness, you were the one most wronged," Fíli reminded him. "Yet you have forgiven him."

Awkwardly, fingers still tucked into the high neck of his tunic, Kíli shrugged. "We are family."

"Which some would say makes the wrong worse, and forgiveness a far more generous gesture," Fíli pointed out. "Look, Ki, I'm not going to say that you're wrong, and there won't be people who never want to see Thorin on the throne. When all this is over, Erebor might still be Dain's, and we might have to settle for no more than that. But, no matter what happens, no matter who wears the crown, the people inside that mountain will always be Thorin's responsibility. Will always be our responsibility. We can't walk away, even if they want us too, not while they are still in danger."

"I know," Kíli replied quietly. "I just hadn't thought of… It's easier, when you think we are here to fight Valin. To displace a villain and take back a kingdom. But Dain isn't an enemy. At least, I don't think he is, and he could still be just as opposed as someone with darker intentions."

"Well, we'll just have to convince him he's wrong, then, won't we?" Fíli stated philosophically. "It'll hardly be the first time we've stirred up trouble."

Kíli, smiling, still managed to give him a reproving look for that statement. "This is hardly the same."

"You think so?" Fíli pretended to ponder it a moment. "I don't know. There was that one occasion where we ran circles around Balin in a debate."

"I remember," Kíli said, somewhat hoarsely, choking on the words. Concerned, Fíli drew a step closer, but his brother waved him away. "I'm fine," he insisted, once he had his breath back. "It's just this stupid collar. I'll go get changed and-"

"Ah, here you both are." Gandalf's voice startled them both, and Fíli swung around to face the wizard, suddenly aware that they had taken a great deal more time than they should have rejoining the others. "Thorin was wondering if you had fallen victim to his own abysmal sense of direction and gotten lost, but I see now that is not the case. Conspiring in the dark, are you? Anything worth sharing?"

"Oh, we were just-" Fíli began, and got no further as his brother's fingers caught in his sleeve in a vice-like grip, swinging him back around.

"Fíli…"

There was panic in Kíli's voice, matched by the terror that shone in his dark eyes as he clung to his brother with one hand while the other clutched at his throat.

"I can't… I can't…"

He gasped, air escaping him in a terrible, rattling exhale, then his eyes rolled up in their sockets and he fell senseless to the ground.