With many thanks to Harrylee94 who all but co-authored this chapter and helped me to write so much emo. Thanks my friend!

Chapter 5: The lesser sadness

Wyldfire Hall was situated in the upper reaches of the broken city, where mostly traders and merchants had made their homes, along with a few lapidaries and other trades that did not produce fumes nor rely on heat and fire too much. The scribes too had their place there. Kili walked up the road, glad to have his brother and Boromir with him, for whatever Óin would have to say. The young dwarf had washed and changed into a clean tunic, he had resisted his brother's suggestion he braid his hair, he would wait for the braids until he had something to say with them, something that meant more than just status.

Gloin greeted them at the door of the hall. "Kili, Fili, I am glad you came." He spared a nod for Boromir, having decided the man was something of a trusted guard or warrior. "I apologize for Grís not being able to greet you." It would have been customary for the Mistress of the Hall to greet the guests.

Kili bowed lightly, in response to the greeting. "We have heard of the ill that befell the Mistress of your Halls, Gloin. Would you give her this with our well wishes, when the time is right?" He asked, handing something small to the older dwarf.

Gloin was not surprised to see that it was a light crystal Kili gave him; it was a traditional gift for someone who had suffered a grave loss. Especially the Mistress of a home was rewarded every courtesy in such times. As those crystals were always cut by the hand of the giver, made them each unique and special. Being a subterranean race Dwarves held light in very emotional regard, it was a thoughtful and surprisingly adult gesture. Two years ago Kili still might have brought honeyed cakes or something similar, like a boy would. But he had grown beyond that and the warmly shining crystal was delicately shaped into a form of a winter lily.

"She will be delighted to see it," Gloin replied, stepping aside to invite the three to come in. He led them to a comfortable room on the lower level of the hall. A bright fire was warming the room, Balin and Óin sitting there discussing matters of trade with the elves in Lindon. Gloin held back for a moment, allowing the brothers to greet Balin in as near private as was possible.

The old dwarf greeted both of them warmly, being so close to Thorin's family; he had seen the boys grow up in Stormwyrd Hall and was something of an honorary Uncle to them. He shook his head when Kili thanked him for coming. "Don't mention it, lad. I too want to hear what bee crawled up Óin's ear trumpet and died there."

Gloin coughed hiding a laugh at his brother's expense, but luckily he was distracted by Gimli coming to greet his friends as well. Making a stern mien, the father waited for the greetings being over before he harrumphed. "Now Gimli, go and see to your mother. This is adult talking we have to do."

The young redhead looked at him exasperated. "But you have Kili and Fili here, father…"

"And they are all grown up, my boy. Off you go." The young dwarf trotted off with a mien that bespoke all the injustices of the world.

When the door closed behind Gimli Balin turned to Gloin. "What is this about, Gloin? You never involved Thorin's nephews into serious business before. You better have good reasons."

The older redhead pointed them to all sit. "I know, I've been a bit guilty of ignoring that Kili passed into adulthood a few years ago," he said to everyone's surprise. "and my mumbling about your brother seconding him when he went against his Wargrider was not fair either, others do that all the time."

Now he had gained Balin's undivided attention. "Not to remind you the hundredths time that it was an entire Warg pack not a single warg," the old dwarf said. "You better start telling us why you brought them here." The old dwarf was clearly suspicious now.

"Aye," Gloin replied, not taking up the argument. He had always known that it had been a Warg pack and that no young dwarf in his testing should go up against a group like this. But that Dwalin, who never bothered to second for anyone, not even distant family, but would do it for Thorin's youngest had rankled a bit. But that was all past now and unimportant. "Kili, may I ask you to show the mark to Óin and Balin?" he asked politely.

Hesitantly Kili looked to his brother, shy to reveal the mark. Fili put an encouraging hand on his shoulder, while both of them looked to Boromir, whom this mark concerned as much as them. The warrior gave a small nod in response. Kili pushed back the sleeve of his green tunic and revealed his swordarm to both older dwarves. "Mahal's mercy!" Óin exclaimed, seeing the red glowing dragon shine on the young warrior's arm. "Let me see it closer, please."

Obligingly Kili leaned forward so the old healer could examine the mark. Gently the old dwarf traced his fingers over the mark, seeing at once it was neither tattoo nor brand, he had a hard time to not jump when he felt movement under his fingers, like warm scales slithering under the very skin. "I… I can't believe it," Óin tried to find the right words, visibly shaken. "When I saw the signs were there, I hoped… but to see this happen in my lifetime…"

"It is an Oath Mark, I know as much," Kili said in friendly tones, he felt a bit embarrassed that the old dwarf would be so shaken by this. "It appeared when Boromir saved me from an Orc."

"An Oath Mark!" Óin snorted. "It may be this too, but it is much more. Kili… young Prince… this seal... it is the seal of the Dragonsbane. The Ravens are returning to the Lonely Mountain and you have been marked by Dragonbane's seal… you are the one who will destroy the beast."

Standing with his back to the wall by the door Boromir had watched their conversation, but when Óin announced his oracle he had a hard time to not gasp. How could they read something like that into the mark? It had come from the magic released from the Dragon's tooth in Kili's sword… and that had been the very dragon they were talking about. "How can you be sure?" the words were out before he could stop them.

Gloin turned to Boromir somewhat annoyed. "I do not think you know much of these things." He began but Kili stopped him, by asking Boromir with a gesture to join them.

"I value Boromir's advice, Gloin." He said firmly, when the warrior joined them, Kili nudged him to sit down to his left. "Could you..?" he asked, his eyes pointing towards Boromir's arm.

Removing the bracer Boromir extended his arm beside Kili's, both dragons were facing each other and in the close distance, both suddenly moved, like drawn to each other.

Óin jumped nearly dropping his eartrumpet. "You truly are bound by the seal… like the old legends tell," he said, now understanding why the human warrior was with them.

"And… are you really sure? It could mean something else entirely." Kili asked, still feeling overwhelmed by all this.

"No, laddie," Balin sighed deeply, a sad and unhappy expression on his face. "This is the exact mark of the Dragonsbane. It is alive inside you, is it not? Even we, who can only touch it from the outside feel the fire right there, inside the mark, I wish I could say it was all a mistake, but this… this is real."

Pulling down the sleeve to hide the mark, Kili sat down again, his head was spinning. They could not believe he was some kind of hero? A dragonslayer? Suddenly he felt Fili's hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "We will be with you, all the way." The blond dwarf told him. "You won't have to do this alone."

Kili had never been more grateful for his brother's presence, for his support. "Still… Erebor is on the other side of the world, no one has been inside that mountain is almost 150 years."

"Your Uncle has been talking about calling those who are willing to fight and retake Erebor," Gloin said thoughtfully. "There are a few still would be willing to follow him back to the Mountain and more will come…"

"And he forbade you to speak of this to his nephews." A voice startled them from the door of the room, where Gimli had led another guest inside. The dwarf standing there gave Gloin a stare that made even the redheaded dwarf take a step back. "I told you not to involve my nephews in this; they are too young to even consider taking such a risk."

"And I agreed with you," Gloin was not easily dissuaded. "Until I saw the sign, it changes everything. Thorin, long have we waited for a sign of hope and now that it is there, do we dare to hesitate?"

By now everyone in the room stood, facing the dwarf standing by the door. His presence easily commanded everyone in the room. "What sign?" he asked, the anger in his voice not abating. "What gives you the right to go against my express wishes in this matter?"

Balin pushed past Gloin approaching Thorin. "He should have come to you first, aye," he said in his calm voice. "But… he is not entirely wrong either."

The old dwarf's words had an immediate effect on the dwarven leader, while his temper was still hot, he visibly reined it in when speaking to the older dwarf. "Balin? What is this talk of a sign? You rarely believe in those."

The greybearded warrior looked chastised. "Age makes fools more easily than wise men, it seems." He admitted. "And over the years I may have forgotten that I was walking in the presence of Durin's blood." It was not an apology, but an honest admission. His glance to Kili was enough to bring the young dwarf to his side. "Show him please."

Kili again revealed the dragonmark on his arm, the fiery seal alive on his skin. Thorin's examination was much quicker than that over the others. "You were smart to hide this, Kili." He said to the young dwarf. "It is not something to be announced lightly." His eyes went back to Gloin and Óin, his anger now clearly excluding Balin. "It is not for you to decide what to do about this." With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, back whence he had come just minutes ago.

"I better go after him," Kili said to Balin. "I should have told him before any others heard." And he followed Thorin out of the house.

ADL

Until Gloin had said the name Boromir had not known who it was, but he had been able to guess. Back in his old life he had heard more than once how old dwarves swore that Kili was very similar to his Uncle and Boromir had to agree. The older Kili had looked much like his kingly Uncle, only that while Kili had always been approachable, even when his temper was woken, Thorin had an inapproachable demeanor, an aura of strength and majesty that kept everyone else at a distance. And he certainly had the family temper to match.

"Boromir?" Fili had joined him. "we better leave too. I'd like to talk to you." Together they bade their goodbyes from Gloin and went back out into the darkened streets of the city.

"Will Gloin be in trouble?" Boromir asked. "Your Uncle's anger is rather impressive."

The young dwarf chuckled. "No. Gloin is half a firebeard, that's why they clash so well. Uncle may be angry, and not spare sharp words, but he is never truly unjust. It was simply a bad way for him to find out. He has always protected us, and he hates to see us in danger." Fili explained warmth in his voice. They went back to Stormwyrd hall, but Fili led Boromir to the very rim of the pinnacle, to a place where one could sit right by the chasm. "This is a good place to talk."

Sitting down on stones, ignoring the gaping abyss beside him, Boromir studied the dwarf opposite of him. Fili was a down to earth, steadfast man, and if he could not say something directly, he usually did not say anything at all. This was unusual. "You are worried about Kili," he observed.

"Obviously," Fili met his eyes. "Kili was always special, he is a son of thunder, and that alone is enough to herald an extraordinary life. But the mark… it is a spark of destiny that may easily become a bonfire to consume him. Others will expect him to turn into a new Frérin Dragonsbane almost immediately." And most of these heroes had found tragic ends, if the old stories were true. "He will need friends with him, people he can rely on, who will stand with him even when… when it gets so dark and dangerous that they'd like to run. I know you care a lot for my brother, and you are a good friend, Boromir, I'd like you with me on this."

Amazed Boromir looked at the young dwarf warrior, how much strength did it take him to step back and let his younger brother embrace his destiny? How many brothers would be jealous or angry, belittle what happened? There was nothing of that in Fili, he would protect and shield his brother right to the end. A hard lump grew in Boromir's throat, remembering what he knew of Fili's death. Had to be me… I am the Eldest. Only once Kili had repeated these words to him, a century after his brother had died to a day, and he had broken down in tears when he had said those words. Here and now Boromir could all too easily see how it would happen, Fili would protect his brother to the last, always there, always at his shoulder, never truly recognized but not caring either way. And he would die for him. No, maybe not this time, Arwen may have warned him against meddling with the fate of the world, but he could try to save another life.

"Boromir?" Fili had squatted down beside him. "You are so pale, like you just saw a wraith…"

"No… you only reminded me of my brother," Boromir said softly. "he too was called. He had this prophetic dream, and he should have pursued it. But I decided I would do it instead, because I was the stronger one… it nearly went awry and I was very lucky to be saved in the end. I wonder if I stole his destiny…"

"You most certainly didn't. It is hard to stand by and watch your brother walk into danger, to know you can't change it, you can't go for him… it's ripping me apart, Boromir. I'd gladly go up against Smaug if I could spare Kili… no dragonslayer ever survived his heroics unscathed, if alive at all."

The two warriors' eyes met. "Then let us make sure Kili is the first who does." Boromir said. A warrior's clasp between them sealed their pact.

ADL

Hastening down the street Kili did not find his Uncle, wherever Thorin had turned he had not kept to the main road and he knew this city better than anyone. Where would he have gone? "Kili, thank Mahal I've found you." A familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. Dis stood behind him, having just come from Wyldfire hall herself. "Come with me." He words bore no contradiction; she walked off towards Stormwyrd Hall, expecting Kili to follow.

Dis chose one of the rooms adjacent to the main smithy for their talk, the small workshop was her refuge, her private sanctuary and it also held the few mementos she retained from her husband. This night, she felt she would need his strength, his presence, like never before. Even if all that remained of him was a small stone statuette and his broken axe mounted on the wall. Like always when she thought of her husband Dis hands went to the two steel clasps she wore in her braids. Dari had made them for her. Taking a deep breath she turned to Kili. "I want you to understand that under any other circumstances we would not have this conversation." She said firmly. "I am loath to do what I do now, but with all that is happening I feel it cannot be put off any longer."

"What is it, mother?" Kili asked. "This mark… does it come from some old family obligation? Life debt?"

He was much like the family in that regards, go and tackle the problem, always forgetting to check how big the problem actually was. "No." she said. "It has nothing to do with the mark but the mark is the reason why I speak to you now. Until now you were satisfied to take second place to Fili, in the family hierarchy and in your Uncle's regard and I abided by my brother's wishes to leave it at that."

"It is only right, Fili is the eldest brother, of course he is…"

Dis raised her hand. "You believe that, because it is what you were told all your life, because that's what Fili was told too. He thinks he saw you born and he was close by, but he did not see what truly happened." The dwarven Princess rubbed her hands against her arms. "My daughter died that night, Kili. I had a girl child and a Dunlending arrow took her life not an hour after her birth." She shivered, in her heart she could still hear the thunder rolling, the Dunlending battle cries echo over the storm, Dari and Dwalin trying to push back the attackers, hopelessly outnumbered and fighting like wounded lions. "I was not the only woman having gone into labour at such an ill time. Ida was ready to give birth too, we had joked that our children would be born in the same hour. Cousins born like twins should."

"Cousins… I… I am not your child?" Kili asked, his eyes wide in shock.

Dis heart clenched, in the wide dark eyes she could see Ida's eyes, and like she had seen her seventy-five years ago as the woman screamed her agony into the cold uncaring night. "No, you were born to Ida; she was from a noble family of the northern dwarves, a good shot of black dwarf blood in that line too. But your father… Kili, Ida had lain with Thorin,"

Kili gasped, shocked, clear and utter disbelief on his face as he stepped away from her, closing the distance between him and the door. "You lie…" he whispered as he continued his retreat, eyes falling to the floor and he shook his head. "It can't be true…" His back found the wall, to give him hold.

"I would never think of lying about such a thing." Dis told him firmly, he had to face the truth and she expected him to do it the way he had been raised to. "Thorin intended to marry her once we were out of that wretched land." Again the memories returned and Dis heard the thunder clash, and Ida scream as the arrow penetrated her chest. "An arrow hit her chest," she whispered. "she was so strong, she pushed you out of her body with her dying strength…" Tears stung Dis eyes, remembering the brave dying dwarf, dying the same moment the lightning bold struck the trees setting the forest aflame.

She pulled it together, she had to stay strong, a daughter of Durin's blood did not break down like a weeping peasant girl. "She was dead the moment you were born, much like my little daughter was dead and Auda, the midwife. Dwalin bundled you and me on Dari's pony sending us off into the night, while he and Dari covered our flight. When we found each other again a week after, Dari had rescued Fili and I had taken care of you…" Dis sighed. "Thorin was far away, and while I knew that he and Ida had been improper, I did not know for sure…"

"Is this some kind of cruel joke?" Kili asked sharply, hurt and anger warring in his eyes. "If it is, it is in very poor taste."

"No!" Dis snapped. "I could never cause you such pain in jest! You are my brother's child, Thorin later confirmed it himself, but he did not wish it to be known. He loved both of you as his own children, even when you were not, and after Dari died the next year, he decided to leave things at that. Dari had agreed to give you his name either way and… Thorin felt it was the best this way."

For a moment, Kili remained silent, trying to understand what it was he was being told. Was his whole life just a lie? Was his entire existence some story that those he had trusted fed him? How could they do such a thing? Did they have any idea how much pain it would cause him? Cause Fili? How could something as small as a mark on the flesh make it acceptable for this to happen?

"Kili?" Dis asked, reaching out towards him.

"Don't touch me!" Kili cried, batting the hand away. "You are a liar! A liar and a thief! You are stealing away Fili's birth right, and all because of some strange fate? How could you do that to him? To us!"

He was so very similar to her family, Dis thought grimly. He had all the temper, fire and rage that ruled her bloodline, so unlike Fili who had Dari's gentleness and his generosity. "It would be stealing your birthright," she said trying to keep her composure. "You are Thorin's son, and thus you should be his heir. Much as he might prefer Fili, fate has different plans and Dari would never have allowed his house be dishonored by subverting the true heir's rights." It was clear Dis was less than pleased, but her anger and pain did not allow for any gentle words. Kili was of her line, he would have to learn to take it, Durin's blood did not tolerate weakness. The door clapped hard, as Kili stormed out of the room.

ADL

Thorin stood alone in the silence of Stormwyrd Hall, trying to calm his restless mind. It was so like Gloin and Óin to jump on things without looking. No, he could not blame them. Many a long year when he had wrought iron, crafting weapons and armor he had longed for a way to win back Erebor. It had been a dream, hardly achievable, and his mind had gone over alliances and plans so often that it had driven him nearly mad at times. His people deserved better than living in these ruins and wander the world in search of paying work, scorned by men, homeless and subject to the whim of any Master they came across.

When Thorin had happened to meet Gandalf the Grey the past summer, he had found something like hope again, a glimmer of it at least. The wizard's support might be what turned fortunes in their favor, but what he knew of the wizard's plan did not entirely convince him. He was loath to risk the lives of his loyal friends on such a vague plan. But what other options did he have?

And now this. How long had he hoped, dreamed that fate would send them another Frérin Dragonsbane, or Alberic Stonebow, someone who had a hope to defeat the dragon. But luck was the one thing Durin's folk was scarcer of than gold even these days. Mahal… here was the answer to all his hopes and dreams and he could wish for nothing more than to never have wished for such a miracle.

Why Kili of all people? Of course with this turn of events the venture he was planning would be less dependent on Gandalf and his aid. Thorin was loath to rely on the wizard too much, or to be in his debt. He'd rather rely on his own blood, his own house. In that way he should be overjoyed, but he hated himself for even considering it in this light. Thorin was not blind to the fates of the legendary dragonslayers and heroes, nearly none of them had lived to a ripe old age, many had ended up cursed, broken, paying a terrible price for saving their people. They were all the more revered for doing so, because of this price they paid. Fate always demanded something for such mercy. But why in this way? "Damn you," he growled, his fist hitting the wall. "if you want your price, your pound of flesh, take me."

Fate does not ask if you like what she packs on your shoulders; she only demands that you bear it proudly. Thorin bit his lip; the words belonged to a friend, long dead, a brother and comrade, another loyal man who had died for him. Dari had been bleeding out in his arms, the words maybe not have even been directed him, but Thorin had never forgotten.

Suddenly the door behind him flew open and Kili strode in, wild hair flying behind him, long strides and a demeanor like he wanted to gut someone, there was no mistaking that he was upset and angry. "Uncle, I fear mother is ill. She is not speaking sense. She is denying her own son his birth right and proclaiming that I am not her child! But these are surely the words of a deluded mind. She must be wrong. Isn't she Uncle?"

What had compelled Dis to break her silence? Thorin wondered, but he knew the answer. They both had been raised by a stern father, a man who had instilled their duty to Durin's line, to their house, into them from the time they could understand what he said. She had never been happy with Thorin's decisions and now had acted on it. "What did she tell you?" he asked, wanting to hear it more clearly. How much had Dis said?

Kili froze in the middle of his pacing, a hurt expression in his dark eyes. "So it's true..." he whispered, a cold hand running down his spine, he could see how his Uncle had evaded the question.

"What is true?" Thorin asked slightly impatient, why had Dis chosen such an ill time to speak of old family secrets?

"Ida," Kili spoke the name with a wealth of emotion in his voice much that he tried to conceal it.

The name confirmed all Thorin had feared. He turned away from his nephew, unable to bear that glance of the dark eyes any longer, eyes that would always remind him of the one person he had loved more than life itself. "I never thought I would hear her name spoken by your voice."

Kili stared at the floor, ears ringing with the sound of his racing heart as he tried to keep his breathing under control. "She was… I'm…" He couldn't say it. No matter how hard he tried, the words refused to pass his lips. "My life is a lie."

"No!" Thorin exclaimed, stepping closer to the boy. "How could you even say that? Does it matter if I were your father or Uncle? Does it change what we are? That we are family?"

"But why?" Kili asked distressed. "If it didn't matter, then why would you keep this from me? Why keep this a secret, only to reveal it now, of all times?" His distress echoing deeply into the bond, startling Boromir and Fili outside the building.

He had a right to ask that, of course, Thorin thought. With the only family he had ever known suddenly ripped apart, he deserved the truth. "Because I would not bring dishonor to Ida's name," he explained. "I should have bonded with her the moment I learned she was with child. I was prevented when my father insisted on waiting after the child was born to be sure. But when she died… I would not let her name be besmirched by having it known she had born my child unbonded. Honor demanded nothing less, and Dari, like always, was a generous friend and accepted you as his own."

"So the honour of a dead woman was more important to you than your own child?" Kili asked, his hate filled eyes turning to face his 'Uncle'. "But what about my father? Dari… you always said that the mourning for the dead must never come before the care of the living."

Thorin bit back a retort, the words Kili was saying like arrows to the heart as he spoke of his mother with such disdain, such hatred… "Your mother was like the air I breathed. I could never bring her dishonor. It would have been like tearing out my own lungs. But my sister… When Dis lost her child in that attack, it was like she had lost a part of herself. By the time I had returned, finding… She was whole again with you in her arms. You could not have asked me to destroy that peace she found."

Blinking, the heat that had filled Kili's chest began to drain away, and all he could feel was an empty hollowness. "Then why change anything?" He asked desperately. "We tell mother not to say a word and we never speak of it again. Never. Will we?... Will we, Uncle?"

"No." It was not Thorin who had given this answer, but Fili, standing in the door of the hall. The blond warrior was pale, his eyes wet from unshed tears, but his face bore an accepting smile. Walking into the room, he approached his distressed brother, drawing him into a short hug. "We cannot lie about this any longer, Kili." He clasped Kili's shoulders with both hands, making the younger one look at him. "I would not want this lie to exist one moment longer than was necessary." Fili said fiercely. "you are my cousin, and my Prince… doing anything else would be the worst kind of betrayal."

"No… no, No!" Kili in turn grabbed Fili's shoulders, drawing him close, so their forehead's touched. "No. You are my brother, and you always will be my brother. Nothing will ever change that, not in this world or the next. Mahal smite me if I am untrue." He vowed his voice hoarse with emotion.

Thorin watched the brothers embrace, so very proud of Fili. The older brother had always been sensible, a protector, fiercely loyal. So much like Dari in looks and spirit, it sometimes tore Thorin's heart to see it. Dari's friendship had been a gift during the darkest time of Thorin's life and watching Fili grow up had been much like watching Dari's youth unfold before his eyes. He was so proud of how Fili took all this in a stride, accepting that Kili would be the heir and Prince of Durin's blood, without the slightest jealousy. All the more Thorin wished it had not been necessary, deep down he wished Fili could remain his heir. But it was not to be. At least Kili had the sense to not let go of his brother.

With a heavy heart the dwarven king approached his son and nephew to hug them both, what lay ahead of them all still weighed heavily on his mind, but for this moment he pushed it aside. Gently he coaxed both boys to look at him. "I will have it formally announced that Kili is my son before we leave," he said to them. "and I will have it announced also that I am adopting Fili as my second son." Dis would not be happy about that, but Thorin knew if Dari could still be with them, he would understand.

Boromir had quietly retreated back out of the room, giving the three dwarves some space; he felt enough of what happened through the bond, where Kili's stormy emotions echoed his inner turmoil. The revelation shocked the warrior deeply, and it reminded him of an autumn day in Eriador and of Bolg. Kili unda Thorin the Orc had called him. What secret had the monster been aware of? Had Kili known? Or had he never learned this truth? Had Dàin in truth cheated Thorin's only son out of his legacy? Another wave of emotions washed over him, he closed his eyes and let it pass, knowing that Kili's heart was torn by what he just had learned. Inwardly Boromir resolved that while he was here to protect Kili from the curse, he would try all he could to save his family. Changing the fate of a house was not unheard of, or so Arwen had said. He had no idea how he could do this yet, but he would try with all he had.

ADL

Midnight found Kili again in the forge, the fire brightly ablaze, working on the sword. While the long conversation with Thorin and Fili had helped to calm his anger, it could not calm his stormy soul entirely. Too much had happened and a part of him still felt like he was losing Fili. No, he would not. Fili was his brother and to the Gate of Night with anyone who said otherwise. His hammer rang on the anvil like a bell out of the deep and fire flared, echoing the emotions the young dwarven smith felt.

As his anger burned brighter the flames in the rack rose too, he paid no heed, when he needed the blade hot, it remained precisely at the point he needed it to be.

The legends of old said that each arcane smith has a well inside him, hidden by a veil deep inside the soul. All stories of old warned to not reach for that well, because it was dangerous to push so far, the flame kindled from it might not be quenched and consume the crafter. In the dark hours alone in the forge Kili found that well opening up for him and he fearlessly reached beyond the veil for it. It felt like snow on fire, like a cold river on a heated summer's morning, like ice pouring on the flaming anger inside him. All that cold went into his work along with the flame burning inside him so brightly.

When the last hit of his hammer rang out on the finished sword, Kili took his own knife, cutting his arm open right under the dragon mark, the blood touching the hot blade, and the water in the barrel before Kili put the still glowing sword in. He could feel that the water alone could not cool the blade anymore, it needed to drink the blood to become cold.

But the flame in Kili had not yet burned out, the fire still blazed brightly. Putting the finished sword on the empty bench to the side, Kili took another set of iron rods and set to work again. His mind did not know where to go, but his heart, the fire inside him knew. As the night moved on, the black steel shaped into a second blade, shorter, edgier but strong, he had to cool and reheat it three times, the last time in the hour of the dawn that would never come to the caves below this broken mountain.

When he put the blade in to the barrel the last time, the water hissed and seethed, but the blade cooled. Behind him the fire in the forge winked out, like the last of its fuel burned. Kili stumbled, dropping to his knees as a wave of exhaustion hit him, the fire inside him burned to ashes. He heaved a slow sigh, bodily exhausted but his spirit rising. Through the bond he felt Boromir's steady, comforting presence and while he wished he could sense Fili the same way, he knew he did not need to, to know his brother was close. Pulling himself to his feet, he managed to stand without shaking. He was calm now, the storm in his soul passed, all the fire passed into the two blades resting on the anvil.

He went over to the fresh water bucket to wash up; the work had left him all sooty. When he finally was done and had untangled his dark hair again, he actually stopped after combing them through. Taking up a few front streaks he braided them into a fine familial braid of four strands, indicating a man with a blood brother and a heart brother.

Author's notes

Again my thanks go to harrylee94 for her endless patience and enthusiasm for my writing.

Lapidary = Gem-cutter