"It's taking too long!" Gloin's large hands squeezed tighter, his eyes over bright. Beside him, his son Gimli made a distressed half sort of sound, his arm outstretched to cover his father's.

Dis grimaced but did not urge them to ease up, they needed the contact and well, she needed their strength right now. Beside her, his arm like a cloak around her shoulders, was her brother. Thorin would sit there, needing to touch and hold her, but be up a moment later to pace. Dwalin would take his place until Thorin felt the need to return to her side and the bald warrior would move. This had been going on for well over an hour.

"They'd be there by now, right?" Ori sounded miserable as he stood by the hearth. He'd taken it upon himself to make sure the flames had enough wood. As if building the fire higher and making the room brighter would chase off the oppressive shadows of fear.

Dori came up to her kneeling down with a fresh cup of fragrant tea. Dis was a bit shocked to see a rather wrinkled lemon wedge on the saucer. Where had the dear come up with that in the midst of winter and a severely limited pantry?

"So much trouble." Dis murmured her thanks, unable to refuse the tea though she wasn't sure her nerves, or her bladder, could stand for more. She tugged on her hands to free them, but Gloin was loathe to let her go.

"Adad." Gimli tugged on his father's arm and Dis was able to free her hands to accept the cup of tea. A proper cup with a saucer, not one of the rough mugs they'd been using at the dining halls of late.

Beside her Gloin took a ragged breath. "My cousin, I'm so sorry for my anger of late. The hurt I caused you."

Thorin shot the red bearded Dwarf a look, then politely turned his head up to look at the ceiling as did Dwalin.

"I …meant …I mean, yes. What I said to you …I spoke how I …"

"Gloin? I love you too. If we cannot speak our hearts to each other, then who can?" Dis wasn't exactly the forgiving sort. But faced with a terrible and looming death, maybe, and her cousin's obvious worry she couldn't hold his words against him. She could remember the pain of his rejection when he'd taken her to task for her actions after finding out how she'd not informed Elladan of Kili's birth. They'd been civil to each other since, and he'd been true to his word and hadn't said or done a thing against her in public or private. But there had been a coolness that had never existed before.

Then Ahriline had gone to the Halls of the Waiting. Gloin had held. Barely. Dis knew that Thorin had worried when their grieving cousin had thrown himself at every battle without regard, almost hoping to join his beloved wife. On the surface Gloin had been functional, but deep within it was if he'd already started returning to stone.

But ever since they'd discovered that there had been venom added to some medicines it had all changed. Fili had been the original target, but he'd not needed dosing any more. Dis chose not to dwell on the why of that, uncomfortable with the thought of Kili using elven magics. Yet relieved beyond words, even if it had led to putting others, including herself, in danger.

Tainted medicines. Poisoned by a Longbeard who thought Dain should inherit over Fili. Erebor's needs were greater than her supplies right now. So the remnants of the medicines mixed up for her son and been repurposed and not given over to waste. She, and many others, had been given that medicine. Maybe. The healer in charge couldn't not be sure of who precisely had been dosed from which batch. Unfortunately, they knew the possible victims to be among the dwarflings and dams. Including, possibly, her.

Chilled, despite the roaring blaze Ori kept fed with a single-minded zeal, Dis shivered. Immediately Thorin's arm tightened and Gloin grabbed at her arm. Her tea sloshed over her fingers hotly.

Dis muttered some curses that had Gimli's eyes rounding in shock. She pushed the tea back into Dori's protesting hands and turned to face Gloin. This time she captured his hands with her own. "You had every right to take me to task. I still feel that I did what I had to at the time, even if was the wrong thing. I hold you in no blame for hurts caused, for I know your heart."

Gloin's lip trembled. The burly merchant and warrior who had faced a dragon and the death of his beloved wife with more stoniness now looked as bad as any dwarfling. Unabashedly tears trailed down his face to disappear into his beard. A thousand memories beset her.

Thorin was her brother, but she had been a babe of only ten when Smaug had stolen their home. Thrain, her father, had been clueless on how to deal with his own grief and sudden disenfranchisement. Thror and his heir had been thrust into trying to save as many of their populace as they could, but they had been more focused on finding ways to return to Erebor. It had fallen on Frerin and Thorin's too-young shoulders to take care of the basic needs of the dispossessed Khazad. Thrain had tried, she remembered her brother Frerin saying in frustration, apologizing for missing yet another of her birthdays. At least her brothers had attempted to be there for her. Her own grandfather hadn't remembered her existence until she'd decided to marry Nehili. What an argument that had been!

Gloin removed her tea cup that she'd held suspended for far too long, giving her hands a squeeze. Dis smiled at her red bearded cousin. She had been raised with him, with his parents acting as her guardians. He was nearly as much her brother in her heart as Thorin or Frerin had been.

"Cousin. " A lifetime of memories and shared moments were in her eyes as she held open her arms. The brave dwarrow who'd faced orcs, goblins and trolls and would have spit in their eyes, crumbled into her embrace. She knew it was because against this enemy, he was powerless. If she had swallowed the venom, he had nothing with which to fight it. None of them did.

Gimli swallowed hard, his eyes as wide as saucers. He'd never seen his father brought so low. With Ahriline the death had been sudden and unexpected, not this lingering and horrid waiting game. Thorin reached across his sister and cousin to catch the younger dwarrow's hand in his own, squeezing to impart what little comfort he could.

"Dwalin." Dis broke the eerie silence, her voice a jarring sound piercing through the somberness. "I'm glad you are here." She said, alluding to the fact that he was supposed to have been with her younger son. "Thorin and Fili will need you."

Thorin frowned sharply but did not interrupt.

"But mostly, Erelinde." Dis snorted softly through her nose. "Ease up on the politics. That can come more apace. I have seen that she is a good balance for Fili, and supportive."

"When he isn't locking her in her rooms." Ori said under his breath, though no one commented.

"She will need more strength in handling those that would seek to manipulate her, to gain the prince's ear." Dis continued, her voice firming as she continued. "She won't need to learn to be a great warrior to protect him. But she has an open and kind heart, that isn't bad but it could lead to political knots. Watch her, teach her."

Dwalin cleared his throat to speak, but ended up only nodding. Privately he still felt Erelinde should be able to use a blade effectively, but he understood Dis' meaning.

"Kili." Here Dis' voice trailed off into sorrow. "Thorin? Bring him home. As soon as it is safe, he belongs here. I don't care how …elven he may be in blood. He is stone."

Thorin nodded. He waited a moment, but his sister did not bring up the subject of Tauriel. It saddened him that she couldn't see what he did in the young couple. He did take heart that Dis didn't try and charge him in tearing the relationship apart. Perhaps that was a sort of progress?

Dis gave a small hiccup and looked up at her brother, the hearth fire reflected in her gaze. "Bring them all home."

Thorin patted her arm, murmuring he would look after Kili and he would be back at Erebor as soon as it was feasible.

Dis shook her head. "Frerin. Grandfather." She swallowed, nodding at her older sibling. "When you can, move their tombs." Unspoken between them was the bitterness of not having their father's remains as no one knew where they were.

Thorin held his breath a moment. He had not shared with Dis all of what he had learned from Gandalf. Many believed Thrain had gone mad with grief following Azanulbizar and had died. Thorin himself hadn't been sure and had searched for his father to no avail. It wasn't until years later that he learned Gandalf had been held beneath Dol Guldur by the Necromancer, though at the time they hadn't realized this to be Sauron himself. There he had come across an old dwarrow whose mind had been broken after years of torture. It had been there that he had asked Gandalf to give to his son a map and key. Only he couldn't recall his own name, much less that of his son. It hadn't been until much later that the wizard had realized he'd been imprisoned with Thrain II, king in exile.

Dol Guldur. Thorin might not be able to find his father's remains. But if the chance ever presented itself, he would destroy that place. He did not share this with his sister, no need to burden her further this night. But silently he vowed even as he rested his arm around Dis. Dol Guldur would fall. One day.

Off to the side, Ori threw another log on a fire that didn't need it, his eyes over bright and damp.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was at least two hours before dawn. Kili knew that innately, even if this deep into the Mirkwood forest. From the verandah he was covered overhead but still look outside where winter gripped everything with a tight fist. When the sun did rise they wouldn't even see the orb until it rose above the tree line. Light would filter in and glisten across the ice and snow unevenly. There were too many trees here, all reaching and clawing at the sky to claim as much of the light as they could, but not sharing with those below. And hiding within the forest?

Dwarves. Blacklock dwarves. Khazad possibly allied with Mordor. The thought turned his stomach. Kili had heard all the accounts of Sauron coming through Saruman to attack Erebor. He'd been knocked out silly by that point. He couldn't even remember glowing with the Light of the Trees. It was like listening to the heroic songs sung around the fires at night. Someone brave and true had knocked loose Saruman's attack and saved the king and the elves.

Only Kili didn't feel brave and true. He couldn't recall what he'd done, much less how. There was a memory of warmth and light and perhaps power? Is this why Glorfindel always demurred when asked to regale them all with the tales of his deeds? That it didn't seem real? That it couldn't have been him who had done all those things?

"Prince Kuilaith?"

Startled, Kili glanced behind him and though it wasn't even dawn yet, a servant was holding out a silver tray with a message scroll. It was almost comical, this huge tray and the small message meant for a bird to carry.

Eagerly he opened the missive, only mildly irritated that it had been read already. He couldn't blame Thranduil for that though, as Thorin would have done the same. Thinking of his uncle it was disappointing to realize that this message was from Gandalf, not Erebor. The wizard assured him the next stage in his original plan was prepared and permissions granted. Kili nodded grimly. Good. This was good and quick, though not needed until spring. What it wasn't, was news of Fili.

Ever since his nightmare, Kili had felt unsettled. They'd received word about the Blacklock treachery. Which only made Gresol's arrival here all the more disturbing.

Kili mindlessly stuffed the small message scroll beneath his leathers for the moment. Gandalf's news was good, but it wasn't what he needed most. Word from Erebor. He would wish that Thorin would be the one directing him on how to react to Gresol appearing in the Mirkwood looking for Tilion's Heir. But Thorin didn't even know yet. Kili had wanted to send messages to the mountain immediately. Surprisingly it hadn't been King Thranduil who had objected.

Frowning, Kili looked off into the direction where the Blacklock warriors had set up a rough camp. He couldn't see them from here, but he knew they were there. In a magical sort of elf trap. The same clearing where the Company had first been taken prisoner by the elves. Kili frowned. He still had questions about that, actually.

Balin moved up beside him. He knew it was he without even looking. The scent, both physical and mental. Kili could also tell the other dwarf was worried, without looking and without speech. He was getting better at passive reading of people. The thought did not please him.

"They still debate." Balin said of the elves still in Thranduil's throne room. Randomly Kili realized that they'd only ever seen him there or in other more public spaces. Never a private study such as Thorin had within Erebor. He felt that said something about the Elven monarch, though he couldn't pin down what that might be right now.

Kili grunted uncharitably and returned to what Balin had said aloud. "Elves can debate for centuries. We dwarrow don't have that luxury. Balin? Why don't you want me to contact Thorin?" He asked flatly.

Balin rocked back and forth with his body, though with both booted feet solidly on the ground and his hands clasped behind his back. Kili looked at him to one side with his eyes, though he still faced forward. A proper Dwarven profile. Full beard expertly coiffed. Strong and prominent nose. Chin high as if to tell the world to throw its worst, he wouldn't be moved.

"Gresol mentioned looking for Tilion's Heir." Balin replied slowly, his voice a whisper. "If the Blacklocks are tied in with Sauron, it means Mordor's Master is looking for you. Here. Looking for you here." He pointed down at the cleverly carved floor of the verandah, made up of a tree's root system, functional and yet still living. "If we react, they will see. Just because we don't know from whence they watch it doesn't mean that they don't watch. Sending out a message would heighten their suspicions that you are here."

"They don't know that it's me. We don't even know for sure." Kili hoped. "They're following prophecy and may not realize that whom they are seeking and I are the same person. Gresol mentioned Tilion. He didn't mention me, but name I mean."

"All the more reason to be careful." Balin said grimly. "Though King Thranduil agrees with your assessment."

Kili groused and dropped his head a bit. He didn't like hearing that, and yet it made him feel more of an adult. He sighed heavily thinking on his mixed lineage, feeling out of place in a wooden landscape. "We are stone."

Hearing Kili's whispered words, Balin smiled and nodded. "We are indeed." He agreed.

"Do you really believe Gresol would serve Mordor? Willingly?" Kili asked the burning question. "How could any Dwarrow bend himself to that sort? Could it be they were deceived?" He ignored his own flash of memory of seeing Himlis' death face in what he was refusing to call a vision.

Balin blinked and a sorrowed look fell over his face as he turned to face his younger cousin. "We Dwarves have to face those who look down on us every single day. Man and Elves. Some will ever see us as lesser and it's not about our height. Gresol Blacklock is a smart dwarrow, but ambitious. It never suited him to leave the leadership to his older brother. And his brother threw him only scraps of power, though everyone knew it was Gresol who was the political impetus behind the throne. He wanted more. Witness how he came to Erebor in effort to gain the mountain only to find us hale and well protected."

Balin stroked his beard with a sad look in his eyes. "Could it be deception? Yes. But it could be ambition too. A combination perhaps, or a willingness to be deceived."

Kili frowned and tilted his head toward Thranduil's home to indicate the elves. "They call us greedy." He made a very unhappy sound. "Are we?"

Balin shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Dwarves? Yes, and no. We seek treasure, true. But we work for what we have. Hard work. I don't see the other races tunneling through solid rock, but they like what we find down there as much as any. We are greedy in that we don't willingly part with what we have. We are sharp in trading, keep to ourselves."

"So. Not greedy." Kili nodded. "Or mostly not."

Balin made a hand gesture and closed one eye as if to deny the words. "History, our history, not theirs. Tell of the Rings of Power. The rings could not tame us, their evil magics were resisted by the Dwarven kings. But. They had the power to amplify natural skills and multiply what was mined. This led to the dwarven hoards. Yes. Even ours."

Kili shifted his weight uncomfortably, frowning as long ago history lessons rearranged themselves within his brain. New insights rose within him. "I heard that the rings made the seven kings rife with avarice. I discounted that. Thorin wasn't like that. His stories of Frerin and Thrain weren't like that. Is it because they didn't wear the ring? The stories of Thror don't mention the ring so much, only that it was his right to rule as direct heir to Durin and wear it like a symbol."

"The nightly stories of Thror are mostly from his earlier days." Balin said as gently as he could. "We don't tell the tales of Khazad hearts hardening slowly toward him, especially following the war with the Orcs. We sing songs of glory and honor, not our weaknesses."

Kili curled his lips. The final battle of Azanulbizar before the gates of Khazad-dum had been a victory in name only, costing far too many Dwarrow lives. But there had been at least six years of war leading up to that last fight, which had ultimately cost them King Thror and essentially his son too. He knew about this, but Balin was right, these were not the songs sung at night. Oh, there were family songs of brave deeds from that battle, of individuals. Of Dain. But not of Thror.

"Was it the Ring? That made old king like that?" Kili asked, though he thought he already knew.

Balin shook his head sadly. "I'm sure the ring didn't help. But, those rings only made worse what was already there."

"Thorin's gold sickness?" Kili's voice was barely a whisper on this question, feeling the shadow of the sting of rejection when his uncle had left him behind. "He didn't have the ring."

Balin's response did not offer reassurance. "Gold lust is not confined to Dwarves. Men have warred over such. One theory is that it entered Durin's Line when the rings were gifted to the seven kings. Others feel it is something born into us with our first breath freed from stone. It's stronger in some than others. I've heard it was a dragon's evil magical aura that infuses a hoard to sway the hearts of all who look upon their treasure."

Kili objected immediately. "Thror was affected before Smaug."

"Yes, but reality doesn't always overcome the allure of a legend." Balin smiled at the lad, proud of him. "Is gold and mithral evil? Does it change a person's heart and turn him away from all that is good? No. But the lust to find and keep treasure can turn anyone, not just the Khazad. Dwarves can be greedy. So can Men. Even Elves."

"So too can you add the Maia to that list." Elladan spoke from the doorway, making no secret of the fact he'd overheard at least part of their conversation. Beside him stood King Thranduil, looking arrogant as usual. "For is not Sauron's attempt to take dominion over the world nothing if not greed for power?"

If the regal elf lord beside him agreed, it was not shown on his stony countenance.

"Still debating our next move?" Balin smiled benignly at the eleven duo.

Kili felt a mental nudge and recognized his father's touch. He allowed the contact. The message was simple, but explained nothing. Thranduil wanted his input. Yet the Elven king usually discounted Kili's opinions on things, considering him a rude child at best.

"Kuilaith." As if thinking about Thranduil prodded him, the king spoke up. "Do we capture, kill, or send away those that look to belong to the Deceiver?"

Kili felt confused to be asked thusly. "You've never wanted my opinion before."

King Thranduil gave an elegant shrug. "Nor do I seek it now. My question was poorly formed. What does the Moon say should be our next step?"

Kili's mouth fell open for a second before he snapped it shut, his mind racing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

No one answered the knock on the door. Erelinde opened it anyway, peering inside. "Risil?"

"I'm sewing."

Erelinde's reddened and tired eyes swept the room, finding a pile of blue cloth on a cushioned seat by the fire. Risil Blacklock was at least seven feet away from it, her forehead on her arm as she rested it on the mantel above the hearth.

"You shouldn't be alone." The blue-eyed dam said with sympathy.

Risil snarled, a low growl in her voice, though she did not look up. "No dwarrow or dam should ever be alone. My house is tumbled and full of rats. My uncle and Himlis are caught out, possibly Waiting for me in the Halls. Members of my own clan tried to kill me."

Erelinde sighed at the phrasing, knowing the Blacklock traitors had tried to kill everyone in Erebor, not just Risil. Such single-minded hubris was mind numbing to be honest. "There are other Blacklocks here, those that were not part of the plotting."

"No one family." Risil said quietly, finally turning. Her chin lifted as if to dare Erelinde to comment on reddened nose and swollen eyes. It was clear she'd been crying. "Not close family."

Erelinde understood, having lost her mother and brother years ago. The immediacy of grief had faded over time, but the sharpness never did. "Come join us."

"Us?"

Erelinde nodded. "Sealyn, myself and Brunere."

"Ah." Risil noded, clearing her voice before continuing. "The dying, the blessed and the murderer."

Erelinde's eyes cooled and she stiffened.

Risil waved a negligent hand gesture and shook her head. "I'm in a mood. I'm allowed. I know Brunere dosed herself as well and I know it was never her intention to poison anyone, even me. And I am glad that you have been spared."

Erelinde gave a wan smile.

"I would have been more glad to have been the one spared." Risil shrugged. "I'll tell the truth on that. It is what it is. We are stone. Though I am surprised your swain is not glued to your side, but I'm sure he has duties during this and his mam is possibly one of the dying as well."

Blinking slowly, Erelinde's lips tightened slightly. It was enough.

Risil's eyes narrowed and she caught her breath. "There is yet hope?"

"There is always hope. And the healers say that even if you have been dosed with the venom it's no guarantee that you will be ill affected."

Risil waved her hand in front of her face with a snap of her fingers. "We were dosed due to a cough. Do you really expect our throats to be without damage or small fissures? What do you know?"

"I know nothing." Erelinde said with partial truthfulness. Fili wasn't with her and he wasn't with his mam or the king, she knew that much. Where was he? Bofur and Glorfindel were nowhere to be found either. Not being stupid, Erelinde felt sure he was trying to come up with some last minute miracle of a cure though she'd no clue how.

Risil appeared to be thinking things over. Finally she stalked over and grabbed a folding fabric sewing stand, stuffing her work inside with a mindlessness that made the crafter in Erelinde wince. "Well. I wanted to be alone, but I want to be in a room with even a sliver of hope instead of locked in my own dark thoughts. Lead on."

"I really know nothing." Erelinde objected even as she stepped aside for the other dam to go through the doorway.

Risil stopped, rich brown eyes met sky blue, seeking a connection. Trying to divine an answer without asking the question. "You don't despair. I need that." She went out the door and turned spreading her arms out and pointing to either side up and down the hallway, raising a elegantly curved eyebrow.

Erelinde wondered how Risil's eyebrows were so perfect even as she pointed to her left to indicate direction. She sighed. "I really don't know anything." She muttered to herself. If the other dam heard, she gave no response.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It wasn't that far from Erebor to Dale, perhaps five miles as Men counted things. The horses weren't spent or foaming, but they had been rode hard and were blowing heavily.

There were no walls yet, though they were under construction. The winter weather hampered efforts there. Still, there were posted sentries. Fili paused only long enough to be recognized and then pressed forward despite calls for him to wait. The guards trailed behind them as they wound through the reclaimed streets of Dale. The streets were wide and fairly clear with signs of industry shut down for the night hours. As they passed, lights were lit in response to the noise.

Finally they came to a large stone villa that was cleaner and sturdier, though not adorned with finery other than a few banners. Bard was one for functionality rather than ostentation, Fili knew.

Glorfindel was on the ground and yelling for the stable hands before Fili had even dismounted. The prince looked over at Bofur and some of the dwarrow with him. A word and a gesture had them staying in their saddles.

Fili pointed at Bofur. "I will try to find what we need here. You take them and head to Lake Town. That's where Smaug's body sank into the water. More likely they will have what we need there."

Glorfindel spun around. He'd arrived for the Battle of Five Armies as it was now known, he'd missed the dragon entirely. "It's not here?"

Fili grunted. "No. But the slayer of the dragon is here and all the Humans here lived there at the time. They must have brought items with them. If not …."

A confused and sleepy looking lad rushed up, holding up a lantern as his eyes widened in alarm to see the newcomers in their armor and gear. His mouth gaped open like a fish.

"Tell Bard." Fili paused, collecting himself. "Please inform King Bard that Crown Prince Fili of the Kingdom of Erebor seeks his immediate audience."

One of the guards who'd arrived just a moment or two behind him nodded at the lad. "Immediately boy."

Bofur was nodding even as the young Man-child scampered away yelling for the king's counselor. "If they don't have anything here?"

"Glorfindel and I will catch up with you." Fili spoke with the firmness of authority and determination. "If we do find it we will return directly to Erebor."

Bofur grimaced. He would have no way of knowing if Glorfindel and Fili would be successful, and he could be searching for a cure in Lake Town while worrying himself to death. Or he could be Brunere and other's last hope. Bofur grunted and gestured for the other dwarrow to follow him toward Lake Town, much further away.

"It'll be here." Fili swore. "It'll be here."

Bofur fervently hoped so, with his whole heart. Before he'd left, Brunere had caught him as he'd been heading out of Erebor. No words were said, but she'd kissed him for luck. He couldn't let her down, not his sweet lass. Not Dis. Not any of the dwarflings or their mams.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Nori is outside." Dwalin grunted as he stood next to the table in a side room that had once served as a salon for visiting nobles and dignitaries. Mismatched but comfortable chairs had been brought in hastily, along with ale, wine, and some snacks.

He had been on his way to find Erelinde when he'd found her ordering dwarrow around like pieces on a Oshthir Rakur board. He had been ready to jump in and bark commands, but it hadn't been needed. Everyone did as she directed. Dwalin had stopped to watch the young blonde chit, seeing her afresh. He'd sighed inwardly at his own stupidity. He'd been trying to train her like he would have any other young dwarfling. His mistake.

Erelinde had a natural grace and retiring nature and she'd never make a warrior. But she had an organized mind and a softer form of authority that had dwarrow rushing around to carry out her wishes. It wasn't because she was beautiful, though that didn't hurt. It was her. Erelinde had a sweetness about her that went bone deep while still managing to get things done. Her voice, her manner, showed who was in charge and that she knew what she was about. Dwalin grinned. Maybe the lass wouldn't make a warrior, but he had no doubt he could train her as a leader.

It hadn't taken long for Erelinde to organize a room for her and then she'd set about filling it. Brunere and her father had been the first, followed closely by Sealyn and surprisingly, Risil Blacklock. Several dams sat together, especially the dams with dwarflings. Dwalin grinned as Desil tried to scoot away from his mother only to find her hand on his collar to keep him in place at her side.

The door opened and tray of tea mugs was carried in for everyone. Dwalin caught sight of Nori out in the hallway, looking miserable.

The bald warrior nudged the table, drawing a sharp glance of rebuke from the inky haired lass sitting there. "Nori. Outside."

Sealyn shook her head, pressing her lips shut. "If I see him I might fall apart." She said as she continued writing a long letter to her parents. In case.

"Lass." Brorgic Grimbasher said the word in a softly pleading manner from where he sat with his daughter, holding her in his lap much as he had when she'd been far younger. He was running one hand up and down Brunere's back as she laid with her head upon his shoulder.

"I can't." Sealyn bit her bottom lip as she scrubbed at a smudge on her letter. Sitting back she read what she had written so far and frowned. "My mind is scattered enough. I'm not even writing in complete sentences, I'm skipping over things. I need to get through this first."

"Yer da knows how you feel about him." Brorgic said gently.

"Leave her be." Risil Blacklock snapped, sitting off to one side by herself. Sewing. "No matter if her father knows, it would mean the world to him to have that last moment of communication."

Erelinde hurried inside carrying a small black bundle of fur. Desil and a few other dwarflings looked up happily as she placed the kitten in front of them. It had grown since arriving in Erebor, but was still a small scrap of a thing. Healthy and now rolling on its back as it swatted at Desil's fingers.

Dwalin grunted. He disapproved of pets in general, but could admit that it was keeping the dwarflings calm and happy at least.

"You should leave." Risil continued, looking over at Dwalin. "This room is only for the dying."

Brorgic growled at the lass, who probably felt safe enough while the dwarrow still held his daughter. Risil sneered back at him.

"You don't know if you've been dosed with the venom." Erelinde pointed out.

Risil rolled her eyes and took another tiny stitch, pulling it through. "So. I may or may not be dying. Big relief. This waiting will kill me just as likely. Sure. Murdered by the nice dam."

Brunere gave a wordless cry but didn't look up. Stricken, Brorgic tightened his embrace on his daughter while glaring at the Blacklock dwarrowdam.

"Why are you still working on Erelinde's dress?" Sealyn asked with some asperity in her voice.

Dwalin decided that dwarrowdams talking about dresses wasn't for him. He looked around for a way to escape.

Risil shrugged, taking another stitch. "What else am I to do? Cry?"

Dwalin cast a glance at the foreign lass and said nothing. He didn't miss the signs that the dam herself had been crying, and not that long ago. He understood the power of pride. Grunting, he exited but left the door ajar as he joined Nori, hoping for any news.

"There's nothing wrong with crying." Sealyn pointed out, though she had not allowed such for herself.

Brunere shuddered from where she sat, her face hidden against her father's shoulder. "You're not the one who dosed everyone."

"No. No I'm not." Risil said sharply, drawing irate looks from all around. "Unfair. Not nice." Risil sneered out the words before they could be tossed at her. "I've heard it all before, and worse."

"Then why?" Sealyn asked.

Risil shrugged and pointed at Erelinde. "Why is she always so sweet?"

"She's always been that way. It's who she is." Sealyn shrugged as Erelinde shook her head.

"Don't ask the question if you already know the answer. I am as I am." Risil went back to her sewing. "Your friend didn't poison your future queen, and she needs this dress and I for damned sure need to keep my hands busy so that I don't kill someone myself."

"Lass." Brorgic's tone this time was sympathetic, which immediately drew Risil's ire.

"No. No, no, no. You don't get to feel sorry for me." The Blacklock dam let the sewing drop down into her lap as she glared. Hissing as Erelinde approached her and sat on the small stool next to her seat. "You're about to be sweet aren't you? Damned Longbeard. Stop it. Stop it right now or I'll curse you."

"If you could do such, it would already have been done." Erelinde picked up the sewing from Risil's lap, examining the stitches. "You want me to be mean? These stitches are not the most even."

Startled into a strained laugh, Risil nearly choked for a moment. Then nodded. "That's better." She looked at the blue dress and sighed. "It would look really pretty with some lapis bead work bordering the lace bit. Fortunately I have some on some slippers. Unfortunately, they are back home."

"Send for them. I'll trade you with some custom lace work." Erelinde said quietly.

Both dams knew that if Risil had been dosed with the venom, there would be no way to carry out such a trade. Even if the beads had been available, it would take longer to sew them into place than the dam would have left. It was a belief, spoken aloud, that Risil would survive this.

Risil nodded. "Those beads would be wasted on this dress. Besides, you're being lazy pairing a blue dress with blue eyes to match. You need a deeper hue, better yet a very rich pink. Fuchsia. In fact, you need a whole new wardrobe."

"Are you offering yours?" Sealyn spoke up with a hint of bite to her tone.

"No. Wrong colors altogether. Besides. My things should be sent back to Blacklock lands." Risil considered the moment. "On the other hand, that would mean giving them to my third cousin. That won't work. No. I have to be fine, or burying them with me."

"Is your cousin too nice too?" Brunere asked without looking up.

Risil snorted. "She's married and thinks I'm vain."

"So I'd like her then." Brunere said, drawing a frown from her father who rolled his eyes as all the dwarrowdams laughed.

Outside the doorway, Dwalin stood silently with Nori, listening. He prayed to the Maker that Fili and the others found what was needed, and soon. Treasury be damned. The gold would outlive them all, it was the people of Erebor that were the true riches.

Dwalin leaned to one side to look further into the room. Desil was dangling something above his kitten's head and the other dwarflings were placing wagers on how high the creature could jump. Several pretty stones and a few ribbons exchanged hands good-naturedly in the way of children. Watching was Desil's mam, holding a sleeping baby Sila.

Taking a deep breath, Dwalin stepped backwards.

"If something happens to that baby's mam or the dwarfling herself, I don't want to be the one to tell Glorfindel when he returns." Nori whispered. Several dwarrow around them grunted in agreement. Dwalin couldn't disagree.

"Bald and ugly."

Startled, because the door hid him from Risil's sight-line, Dwalin stepped back into the room to stare at her.

"What's being done to remedy this?" She waved around the room in general. "I've held silent waiting to be told. But I'm an outsider. I get that. Yet they don't seem to know either. She knows." Risil pointed at Erelinde, "but says nothing. So. You tell us."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Bard was dressed and Fili fought the resentment that the Man had taken time to do so in the face of their urgency. Logically he knew he wasn't being fair, and if woken in the small hours in the same way he might react similarly. It didn't help.

Glorfindel stepped into his line of sight and made a deliberate, and very Dwarven, hand signal. Technically speaking, the gesture meant 'we will feast soon'. It was an old sign, one whose meaning had shifted from the literal when hunting, to something said before a battle and alluding to bloodletting. In Fili's own lifetime it had a less violent meaning and was often used during an argument to signal that the one making the gesture would soon be saying or doing something clever.

The effect though was that it shook Fili enough to make him pause. Bard yawned and called for something for the newcomers to drink. "Are we riding out?"

Glofindel swept into a bow that was just the right depth to denote respect, but not servitude. Fili blinked, impressed in spite of himself.

"Nay." The Crown Prince denied. "We seek dragon flesh."

Bard's hand stilled as he reached for a mug of spring water infused with something citrus. "Dragon."

"Smaug." Fili clarified, reassuring any that this wasn't some new drake taking to the sky. "We need dragon flesh."

Bard took his water, sipping thoughtfully. "Why?"

Glorfindel turned to the Dwarven prince, deferring the response. Fili frowned, he didn't want to give away too much. "We are hoping the old sayings are true and dragon flesh can negate certain poisons." It was the truth, but did not give away the depth of their need.

"King Thorin?"

Deflecting the question, Fili forced himself to smile. "Is well and sends his regards." Inside his nerves were jangling to just get on with it. But he needed what he needed and didn't want to tip his hand to everyone around them.

"And sends his heir." Bard remarked, knowing he wasn't getting the full story. He didn't ask about Kili as he too was unsure about spies, even in his own household. Mordor was simply not to be trusted.

Fili bowed his head, but kept his eyes up and on the gaze of Dale's new king. "Dragon flesh?"

"Rotted and gone." Bard frowned sharply, but held up a hand as Glorfindel frowned and started to step back. "Smaug's body sank deep into Long Lake, too far to dive."

Fili ground his teeth but nodded.

"However, as he …decomposed, his body did bloat and rise for a time before sinking forever."

Both Glorfindel and Fili shot each other side-long glances. Bard saw this and hummed, notching up his estimate at how import all of this was to Erebor.

"Pieces were collected. But dragon flesh is toxic and killed many fish, and even some dogs it was fed to at the time." Bard said with a shrug. "We collected some of the bones, for carving and trade and the like. I even have some of the teeth."

Fili froze. Bone? Teeth? Would those work? He turned to stare up at Glorfindel, but the elf warrior looked blank. He decided that meant that the golden hero didn't know either.

"I would buy such from you." Fili said slowly, his facial expression showing his uncertainty if this would be what he wanted.

"Make them pay your weight in gold." One of Bard's human guards spoke up, the light of greed in his gaze.

The King of Dale glared at the guard until the man dropped his eyes downward, but kept staring until the man stepped back once, then three times. The man hesitated at the door, then bowed and left the room.

Bard sighed and Fili's back stiffened. What kind of price would be asked?

The leader of the Men shook his head. "Thorin has paid me, and Lake Town. More riches are always good. But what I lack Erebor can't supply. Hands. Working knowledgeable hands to rebuild and restore. Farmers who know how to enrich the soil in order to increase crops, to feed both us and the livestock."

Fili grimaced. "Hands we have, but we are in the same predicament for rebuilding. Farmers? We're miners and warriors."

"We're fishermen mostly." Bard laughed. "We always traded for what we needed. But Lake Town is in poor shape and what trade that is coming this way is now split between Mirkwood, Erebor, and two Human towns."

Fili frowned. He'd brought some rings and gems from Erebor's treasury. He pulled out an excellently cut three carat emerald. He tossed it in the air and caught it neatly within his fist.

"Do not the Dwarves or the Elves have any magics that would enhance our farms and fields?" The feminine voice took several by surprise and most looked over at the king's eldest daughter.

Sigrid gave an embarrassed smile, holding her robe closed with one fist, her hair wrapped up in clean rags meant to hold curls. But it hadn't been her voice. Tilda clung to her sister's robe and was peering over at the visitors with some awe.

"Nay little one." Fili said gently, quite fond of Bard's children.

"Yes." Glorfindel contradicted the prince, rising his full height as something occurred to him. "Perhaps. You seek your weight in gold? I would double that with the offer of farmer's gold. Dung. Dragon dung. Rich and pure, enough for several fields."

Fili's eyes lit up and Bard appeared intrigued. He pointed at the elf while nodding, turning to a hopeful look toward Erebor's prince. "Not something I would have thought of." He admitted.

Fili shook his head, "Nor I. But yes, we have this …resource."

"Bring the dung and we'll trade." One of the king's counselors seemed very pleased.

Bard frowned, thinking that Fili riding into Dale in the middle of the night meant that the need was more of an urgency. He wasn't surprised when the prince shook his head negatively. He held up a hand to forestall anyone else.

"Give the prince what he needs. I trust Erebor to deliver what was promised. Then perhaps at a more reasonable hour we can discuss trading for more. That is if this dung doesn't kill off our fields entirely. Smaug was an evil git."

Fili bowed lower than before in order to show his gratitude for the trade, and for the king's trust.

"If it's flesh you want. What about the knuckle?" Bard stepped up near to his father. "I heard old Brom said he was worried if he stayed out too late playing dice again his wife would slip some of the dragon into his meal."

Bard and the other men laughed, shaking their heads. "Brom wouldn't bestir himself to collect any of the dragon, not as lazy as that man is. And his wife isn't better off." Bard dismissed the thought.

"It wouldn't hurt to call for him and ask." Fili jumped at the opportunity, no matter how tiny.

Bard thought of his nice warm bed and sighed. He nodded and pointed at one of his guards to fetch old Brom and his wife. He called for some wine to be warmed. Sigrid picked up her sister and sent her upstairs while she went to put on a serviceable gown. It looked like their sleep wouldn't be interrupted, but that their day would start early instead.

"If you have a man to spare." Fili wasn't interested in starting his day, he had more important things to consider. "Perhaps he could take the bones and teeth we bargained for to Erebor. If you gift me with paper and quill I can have the dragon dung back down to you before the dawn breaks."

Bard looked around, noting that of those that had ridden into Dale, only two remained. "Where are your riders?"

Fili pressed his lips together but saw no reason not to answer. "Bofur rides to Lake Town, in case what we need is there and not here."

Surprised, Bard nodded. He didn't know what was wrong, or why pieces of Smaug were so important all of a sudden. He just hoped that whatever it was, they could offer real assistance.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The moon?" Kili's voice broke on the second word. He turned his head to look out at the night darkened forest. There was no moon. His face clouded as he recalled how he had clearly seen moonlight earlier while spying on Gresol and his warriors. But the others in his small company had not. They claimed there had been no moon that night.

"I ask this not of Prince Kili of Erebor, or even of Kuilaith son of Elladan." King Thranduil said haughtily. "But I cannot ignore the import of what I myself have seen in you, much as I would want."

"Thanks." Kili muttered under his breath.

Thranduil ignored the interruption as if it didn't exist. "But as the Moon's chosen heir, him I would ask."

Kili swallowed wrong and began choking. The others gave him space as he settled down. Looking back at them all one at a time, he shuddered lightly. Balin looked on him in sympathy, but also appeared to think Kili might have an answer. Elladan's face showed nothing. Kili reached out with his senses to touch his father's aura. It was blank. His da was holding himself and his emotions strongly in check.

"You know the Moon doesn't actually talk." Kili shrugged and held out his hands to show them empty."

"Neither do the stars sing with a voice." Thranduil countered. "But I have heard you play their song in harmony."

Kili did a double take on that one. "No. What? No. I would have remembered if I'd done that. Nope."

Thranduil stood silent and expectant.

Kili blew out a breath through his lips, making them vibrate noisily. He finally looked up at the sky. "They want an answer." He spoke, feeling silly, as he pointed at the elves. Pretending to listen, Kili cupped one hand to his ear. Finally he shook his head. "No one is home."

Thranduil said nothing and continued to wait.

Kili was starting to feel very put upon. He turned his back to the elves and stared out at the darkness. No moonlight, not now. He stepped forward and put his hands on the smooth rail formed from the living root of a tree.

Trees. Damned trees! No proper stone out here. Kili mused he could go inside and find stone. But it wasn't stone mined by dwarrow. He did not feel it like he had when in the heart of Erebor. Frowning, Kili's hand tightened on the wood. It wasn't dead, cut into planks or logs.

The roots of this giant of a tree went deep. Elves long ago had sung to it to get it to grow to this shape. How long had that taken he wondered to himself. Seasons. Trees didn't count time as Elves or Dwarrow did. Seasons of light, dark, sun and snow.

"Snow."

Behind him he could feel Thranduil's stare as if a physical thing. "Snow?"

"Look. This isn't from the moon or any such nonsense." Kili licked his lips, very, very uncertain. "But I got a message from Gandalf that the next step in this journey is ready."

"Yes." Thranduil's voice didn't sound surprised. Kili knew that sneaky elf king had read his note. Turning he glared at the arrogant monarch.

Kili pointed at his father and then himself. "Gresol's group is looking for Tilion's Heir. I don't think they know my name or that it might be me. They would have said they were looking for me then, or made some remark about my mixed blood. No. They're looking for what the portents are pointing towards."

"Perhaps." Thranduil nodded, not in approval but not in rejection. Beside him Elladan gave his son a long slow blink that Kili couldn't read.

"Snow is done for now. There will be a break in the weather." Kili felt fairly certain of that and when none contradicted him he felt emboldened. Licking his lips, he stepped forward. "We leave. My father is doing better."

"Better isn't fully healed." Balin piped up with an objection.

"We aren't going far." Kili pointed out, forgetting that he hadn't shared their destination with everyone yet.

"The mountain passes are still closed." Balin couldn't help the worry in his voice it seemed.

Kili grinned suddenly. "I know."

Thranduil nodded. "You leave two months early. I bring in the lost dwarrow. Guests?"

Kili's face clouded as he thought of the Blacklocks and their treachery. "I leave that to your discretion." He said, feeling a little cold hearted but having little sympathy for Gresol.

Elladan stirred finally and Kili thought his father was about to shut down his ideas. With some surprise he listened to what his sire had to say. "If you don't accost the dwarves they will think you have something to hide."

Thranduil nodded and looked over at Balin as if in confirmation. The white-bearded dwarrow nodded cautiously. "In their place, I would think so."

"You wouldn't be in their place." Kili snapped. "They are traitors, to our kind and to all the races."

"As I am now on friendlier levels with Erebor." Thranduil smiled slightly at Kili's slightly stunned expression. "As witnessed by your rooms here now compared to the first time."

"You tortured me." Kili pointed out brashly.

Thranduil pretended to contemplate the word torture, mouthing it silently.

"Training vigorously." Kili amended. "Overzealously."

"Equally as accurate as your first assessment. But I will accept your generosity." Thranduil surprised him with his response. "Still. I will 'find' the lost Blacklocks and see how it goes from there. I will not bring them into my home as guests however."

"I don't blame you for that." Balin nodded toward the king. "How long before we leave?"

Kili looked at his father and then the Woodland king. It was a bit of a shock to find they were staring at him for a decision. He looked over at Balin to find that his uncle's advisor was also looking at him.

Kili suddenly felt inadequate. He was a reckless prince who lost ponies to trolls. He felt more at home pulling pranks or throwing himself at enemies than planning strategies. He swallowed hard and thought of his uncle. Thorin had trained him, but it was Fili who had been trained to really lead.

But.

If he passed on the decision to one of the others, would that mean he didn't consider himself an adult? Hadn't he been fighting and fighting to be seen other than as a child?

Kili swallowed his first response of leaving immediately. What did they need? "Can the Blacklocks be led to wander around lost as we did the first time we came to these woods?" At Thranduil's considered nod, Kili smiled. "Alright. We need a day, no two to prepare."

Thranduil gave a sound, but Kili couldn't interpret if it was disapproval or not. Glancing at his dwarven cousin and his father showed acceptance, but neither male's expression showed whether or not Kili had made a good decision.

Kili looked up at the night sky, the one without a moon in it, and cursed inside his head. Making adult decisions meant that he wouldn't know if he'd made the right call until later. There was no Thorin to clap him on the shoulder in pride, or frowning at him to rethink his plans.

"Kuilaith? We have much to do." Elladan called to his son who gave one last look out at the night before returning inside to get ready.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

A/N

Surprise! I know it's been far too long since updating. Though thinking about this story often, I was concentrating on original pieces. I hope everyone is doing well during this time of COVID. While I have more time to write, I find it hard to concentrate and be disciplined during all of this. I work in healthcare and while I'm well, it has been tough (not on the front lines as I work in therapy). Now that I have this first update under my belt, so to speak, I hope to get more very quickly.

BTW ...this chapter's first line was very deliberate.