"That was Heggi, wasn't it?" asked Kíli breathlessly; and from the corner of his eye, Óin saw the boy move closer to his brother. "What happened to him?"

Óin puffed on his pipe and looked over at the pair, suddenly reluctant to continue. "Are you quite certain you lads can handle this story?"

"I can, even if Kíli can't," said Fíli; though Óin noticed that he was hugging his knees a bit tighter now.

"I can handle it!" said Kíli, glaring at him.

"So, should I go on, then?" asked Óin. "Or would you rather wait until morning?"

"You can tell us now," said Fíli, seemingly anxious to hear the rest.

Kíli let out a small noise and Fíli looked over at him; then the younger brother pursed his lips.

"All right, so it's a little scary," said Kíli, turning towards Óin. "But you're not too scared by it, so it can't be that bad, can it? I mean, the worst part is over, right?"

Óin turned his eyes aside. Though he had begun telling this story almost lightly, the memories he had dredged up were giving him pause, and he was no longer quite so sure that he should be filling their heads with such tales. Still, he could not end the telling there, and so he cleared his throat and went on.

"It really was a dreadful thing to see," he said, clamping his teeth around the bit of his pipe. "But half a century has gone by, and time does tend to ease shock. I will tell you, though... as young as I was, I thought my heart would stop beating..."

...

The wretched sight weakened Óin's knees and sent him stumbling back; then he drew in a quick breath as he wheeled about, intent on leaving the burial chamber as quickly as he could. Thorin caught him by the arm, and the prince's strong grip not only forestalled Óin's hasty exit, but brought him hard onto his rear. The torch fell from his hand and clattered to the ground in front of the dead Dwarf; and Óin scooted away from the body as a scream started working its way out of his throat.

Thorin dropped to his knees and threw his hand over Óin's mouth, silencing him; and after Óin stopped struggling and trying to yell, the prince shook his head gravely. Óin nodded, and Thorin released him before standing and offering him a hand up. The assistance was accepted with trepidation, and once he was standing once more, Óin looked down at the corpse and held his breath.

People in the passage began asking what the noise had been, and what the delay was; and Óin looked to Thorin for answers. The prince leaned close, whispering for him to keep the others out; and after a few moments of staring wordlessly at the body and willing down a wave of nausea, Óin moved unsteadily to where the door was cracked open and peeked out. His voice squeaked as he lied to the gathered mourners-telling them that the stones blocking the door were large and unwieldy, and that it would take a while to clear the obstruction-then he turned his eyes to Fari, but he could not hold his friend's gaze for long before Thorin pulled him back into the burial chamber.

Óin screeched and Thorin held up a finger; then Óin clamped his mouth shut and watched as Thorin stooped by the body. He pushed the ragged mop of hair away from the Dwarf's leathery face, then he uttered a curse and motioned for Óin to come down and look; but when Óin stood fast, Thorin grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to his knees.

Thorin held his torch down, illuminating the scarred cheek and missing eye; and though, from that, it was at least clear who the dead Dwarf was, he looked nothing like Heggi Silvereye as Óin remembered him. It seemed, in fact, that Heggi's skin had been tanned, and that his emaciated body had been stuffed too sparsely by a taxidermist. There was a lingering terror in his remaining eye; and where his mouth gaped open, his darkened lips were pulled back from his teeth, making it seem as if his skull was trying to push its way out through the skin that was stretched tight across his face.

Heggi's nearly-skeletal left hand was wedged under the door, the hefty ring on his third finger preventing it from opening; but how his body had ended up there was something that Óin could not fathom. He remembered clearly seeing the patriarch's pale and cold body being lowered into his coffin, then being covered with a great slab of stone. An earthquake may well have managed to work the coffin lid off, but it could not have then moved the body to where it now lay.

A flood, he thought, might have done such a thing; but there had been no flooding in the catacombs in many years. He lifted his torch off the ground and held it up to the wall, looking for a water-line that would show where such a flood would have receded from. He saw nothing of the sort, and no proof of there ever being water in the chamber - but what he did see sent a shock of terror up his spine.

...

Óin stopped suddenly, then blinked hard a few times as he let his eyes regain their focus. He had dipped so deep into his memories that he hadn't realized how far the story had gotten; and when he looked over at Fíli and Kíli, he saw that the brothers were now clinging to one another. Kíli's eyes were closed and his fingers were clutching at his brother's sleeve; and while Fíli himself was still looking at the older Dwarf, his face was half-hidden by the arm he had wrapped over Kíli's shoulder.

"Ah, I knew this would be too frightening for you two," said Óin, determining that he should not go on, after all. "Let's just end it there."

"But what happened to Heggi?" asked Kíli, his voice muffled.

"As terrible a thing as it was, it seemed that he must have been buried before he was actually dead." Óin paused as he took his pipe out of his mouth and set it down on his bag, the last of the pipe-weed having been smoked a while before. "And that he must have woken up afterwards."

Kíli shuddered and tightened his grip on Fíli. "I don't like that," he said in a hushed tone, opening his eyes at last. "Why'd they bury him if he wasn't dead yet?"

"They thought he was dead when he was laid to rest," answered Óin somberly. "See, sometimes a body can... well, it can stop for a while, if a person is really sick or badly hurt. Don't know why, exactly... but after a time, if the person doesn't die, then he might just wake up."

"How did he get out of the coffin?" asked Fíli.

"Ah, there must have been some mad strength in him," said Óin. "I suppose the shock of the situation brought it on."

"How'd he die, though?" asked Fíli. "I mean... well, the second time?"

"Oh, it's anyone's guess," said Óin with a slight shrug. "Could be the fever wasn't quite so done with him, after all. Some good did come of it, though. From then on there were no burials in the Blue Mountains until the dead had been laid out for days, at least." He let out a long breath. "Until it could be proven that they were not alive."

Fíli's eyes widened. "Is that why you chose to be a healer, then?"

"Aye," said Óin. "I did not want to see such a thing happening again, and I figured, if I learned well enough, I might just be able to save someone's life, even after they were thought to be dead. And for that, I learned that it is best to not only look for signs of life in someone, but to look for lack of... well, for lack of decomposition, as well. And three times since, that learning has been of help."

Kíli loosened his grip on his brother a bit, then pulled him close again. "You saved three people from being buried alive?"

"I did," said Óin, nodding slightly. "Over some forty years' time."

Kíli shook his head against his brother's shoulder, and Fíli's eyes flitted up as he peered at the darkened trees above them; then, at once, the boys seemed to realize they were still holding tightly to one another and pushed apart, grinning sheepishly.

Óin stretched and let out an affected yawn. "Well, then... are you lads ready for a good night's sleep now?"

"It's not..." Fíli began, then he cleared his throat. "It's not actually that late."

"I can stay up a while longer," added Kíli quickly.

Óin nodded again. "I suppose a little more training mightn't be a bad thing."

He reached into his pack and drew out some bandages, tossing them to Kíli; then he turned his eyes to Fíli and saw that his brows were drawn together. Fíli seemed to sense Óin's gaze, and looked over at his brother briefly before scooting closer to the older dwarf.

"What did you see on the wall?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Óin felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle and he reached up and scratched at the tingle. "Nothing, nothing..." he said in a whisper. "Just... let it be, lad."

"If you think Kíli will be too scared, then you can just tell me," Fíli went on.

"Not tonight."

"All right... not tonight. But how about tomorrow? Will you tell me then?"

Óin looked at him past sunken eyebrows. "Will you swear not to tell your brother?" he asked, glancing at Kíli, who was focussing on the binding job he was now doing on his own foot. "As you said - you may be ready to hear it, though he may not be."

"I swear," said Fíli, smiling wide.

The older Dwarf nodded. "In the morning, then," he said. "If you manage any sleep."