A haunted moon peered down as its pales rays touched the rolling hills of Cardolan. The sky was dark with a field of cold silver stars stretched out as far as the eye could see.
Entranced, Kili stood on hillside, gaze averted up, focused on the stars and moon. They were cold with the weight of age like the stone in an unexplored or an ancient dwarven tomb deep in the mountains.
The young dwarf shivered. He felt an icy chill climb up his limbs as he looked around himself. A great army stretched before him. Men dressed in fine robes clad in silver mail or plate with masked helms and shields straddled stamping horses. Ranks of footmen with drawn swords stood before them.
Around them were the walls of a once mighty city of majestic white marble towers crumbled into ruins, leaving only small rocky formations sitting on the barrows and waiting tombs.
Yet they stood there for an eternity, their golden and violet flags waving in the dying wind. Waiting for death and the hard stone beds of their graves.
One figure stood out above all, he was the moon, also, a man clad in kingly attire at the same time. He seemingly road down from the sky on a horse made of mist, golden ringed fingers extended out toward him. His face was handsome, ringed by thick golden hair, and crowned by a golden jeweled circlet that sparkled in the star light. His royal silken blue robes were trimmed with silver and golden embroidery and on his chest was elegantly engraved tree on gold plated armor.
Kili found himself unable to move as the man rode up to him, his horse dissipating into mists that curled around the young Dwarf's legs.
"Come." A whisper of a voice beckoned him. "Sleep with us, young prince." The ringed fingers drifted to his hair, sending frosty tingles down his spine.
Fear filled him, but Kili could not move, he could only watch as the being before him seemed to change. Its features became taunt and sunken, his eyes hollow sockets with an eerie moon glow that breathed helplessness and despair into the dwarf prince's heart.
Robes became rags, and gold tarnished, a ghostly hand traced down to his check, and Kili could see bones beneath the withered pale skin. This was no king, and it sang, it sang of death and decay, it sang of loss and of tombs.
The face came close to his and he could see yellowed skeletal teeth leering at him….
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather, *
Yet something warm and sweet drew him away. Another song, filled with the golden rays of the sun on a pleasant spring day. The darkness around him shattered.
Kili's eyes flew open. A mummified face frozen in death stared sightless eyes at him while it's ring clad fingers placed a crown of gold on his head.
The dwarf stifled a scream, as he found strength to roll away and find his feet. He trembled and it was difficult to stand, his limbs were stiff, and numb with cold. Around him were the stone walls and wooden beams of a tomb and an sickeningly green light that ebbed and wavered around him.
He was clad in a shroud rags that sunk of entropy and time with golden chains around his neck and jeweled belt about his waist. They were heavy, and he felt weak, and slow and will power alone keep him standing.
Fili lay ashen on the floor dressed identically, a crown and jewels woven into his mane of blond hair. A sword was placed at his side, and a shield of gold at his feet. For a moment, Kili feared that he was dead, but the slight rise and fall of the older dwarf's chest relieved him.
It only then occurred to him what had happened. Some how in the dark and rain they settled in a hill that was really a buriel mound. Now they were trapped with a barrow wright, who wanted to sacrifice them.
The barrow wright snarled, and lurched at Kili. The youth stood rooted where he stood until the last moment, when fear gave into his drive to survive. He darted out of its grasp and tumbled head first under its arm, to Fili's side and the sword laying there. "Fili, Fili! By Mahal, wake up! I need you at my side with sword in hand to smite this monster!"
The Barrow Wright leaped at him again, ghostly hands seizing the blade as Kili swung at it. Its strength nearly wrenched the weapon out of the dwarve's hand, and Kili stumbled.
"Come little one, lie down in thy bed of stone,
what is a prince with out a throne?
The stars will flicker and burn away,
Mountains, stone, trees, life, all will decay.
Bones, heart, flesh put in the ground,
Till the Dark Lord returns to restore the uncrowned"
The words diminished his will, and Kili found his strength waning. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs and the boy sank to his knees. Disheartened he lowered the sword tip so it touched the ground, and hung his head low. The weapon clattered to the floor. How could he think to fight such a thing, it had magic. It's dark words and spell drained him of his spirit, and left him hollow and melancholy.
In the distance, he became aware of the mournful cries and wails of pained spirits emanating from the green light churning around his trembling body.
To his horror he realized they were lost souls belonging to unfortunate visitors trapped by the Wrights in the Barrows. Grief stricken, he could no longer move, and longed not to run or escape but to obediently layback into death's eternal sleep.
Before the Barrow Wright closed in, a bright voice started to sing, driving away the moans and frozen hopelessness clouding Kili's mind.
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,
Wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,
Reads by the shady pool, lilies on the water:
The fear melted away, with the despair, and the dwarf felt new vigor. Across from him, Fili's eyes flickered sleepily open. Hope filled Kili, and he remembered Fili was to be king some day, and Kili would be responsible for his safety. No monster or ghost would kill them that day.
The youngest dwarf just ducked under the Wright's grasp, and scrambled to his brother. "Fili, Fili, we have to get out of here now! It's going to kill us or worse!"
Fili's blue eyes strayed up to him, confused. "Kili?"
"NOW Fee, run!" And without thinking, Kili grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him to his feet. The other youth was ungainly and stumbled, but didn't resist, as Kili pulled him away from the Barrow Wright.
Together the boys raced out of the burial chamber into a dark and narrow hall. With out the greenish glow, the hall was pitch like the deep of a cave. Luckily, Dwarf vision saw in the lightless dark and the youths continued their sprint.
Behind them, the scuttling of the Barrow Wright followed them. It's mournful song hissed and whispered down the black passage. The spell's tendrils of gloom threatened to slow them down, but Kili aware of how pale and cold his brother's hand was, knew Fili would be doomed if they faltered.
The passage wasn't long, and turned unexpectedly with another burial chamber to the left. It too was open with green mists, and Kili dared not look aware there was scrapping coming from inside.
Beside him, Fili gave a gasp, and his hand tightened around the young's dwarfs. "By Mahal, that monster will bring down all those cursed here just to bring us back!"
"Best not to look or think brother!" Kili puffed, another short corner and in intersection. They were forced to stop, and Kili winced at the dragging of dead feet behind them. The unholy green mists leaked into the hall, touching his bare legs and feet.
"Which way now?" Fili asked leaning over, and put his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily. "This cursed place is a maze."
"Why do men make death so complicated." Kili asked looking down both passages. He felt no fresh air on his face, only the oppressive sent of death in either direction. More tombs, more dead waiting for them….
Yet one way led to the door out and the other led to a dead end.
"Young princelings, your beds await you." A ghostly voice called from behind.
Chilled to the bone, Kili shivered, grabbing his brother's hand once again. Fili's features were distant, as if lost once more. "Don't listen, his voice is poison."
"No, no, not that." Fili replied. "I hear a voice, a warm cheery voice, singing. " The older boy yanked at his younger brothers hands and pulled him down the left passage. "This way!"
Sure enough, Kili now heard it too. The same pleasant voice that awoke him from his dream. It was growing stronger as they ran. What it was, Kili was unsure, but it was not foul in nature and gave him hope and will to keep running.
The air was stale and stifling, and smelled earth, rot and mold, and Kili's legs ached as they sprinted down another corridor. If felt like they ran forever, until breeze touched his cheeks and the stench of death was replaced by the fresh sent grass and brush.
Fili's grip strengthened and Kili's sped up his pace. They turned the corner, and even though blackness greeted them, Kili saw the thin outline of a doorway, and smelled the freshness of a field after a rain.
Running harder, both boys raced out of the doorway and into a wet grass covered knoll.
On a hill across from them, Kili caught a glimpse of a woman with long golden curls, in a flowing dress, a steady brilliant glow emanated from her as she walked, singing and Kili was certain she was a spirit, maybe a nature spirit of some kind. Yet he couldn't be sure, he had never seen one until then. Slowly the woman walked down the hill away from them, singing in a clear chiming voice.
No sooner had her head disappeared, out of the entrance of the barrow, the king Barrow Wright stepped out followed by two others.
There was a shout, and a small stocky figure leapt from above the barrow's entrance, and in front of the wrights. A sword flashed, and the King's head hewed from its shoulders. It unceremoniously crashed to the ground with its body. Its sword flipped from its fingers and kerplunked in a muddy puddle near by.
Kili recognized that familiar black mohawk hair and sturdy gruff features. Mister Dwalin had come to their rescue.
The other wrights stepped into the fray their swords swirling in for the kill, but Dwalin's might met each blow with a well parried dodge. He spun, cleaved up and another one fell, mummified body bisected.
Distracted, Kili's foot snagged and twisted in a rabbit hole and the dwarf fell backwards into the wet mud. The boy gave a cry, his vision blurred and agony swept his trapped leg.
Fili crashed down along side of him, splattering mud and water all over their white garments. "Kili!" The older boy called out, scrambling to Kili's side. Water dripped from his hair down on to his face as he gently wrapped his fingers around Kili's trapped leg, an eased it out of the hole.
Tensing, Kili grit his teeth. Anguish washed over him followed by brilliant rainbow of colored spots. The edges of his vision darked, and the teenager swooned. Only a thin awareness of Fili's hand on his kept him from completely losing his wits. "Stay with me Kili…"
How could they come so far, to only be stopped by his clumsiness? Kili squeezed his brother's hand. "I'm sorry brother…. I don't think I can walk right now."
The older boy went to speak, when Dwalin's voice cut though the darkness. "Remove the accursed burial garb and jewels! They are bound to it!"
Quickly, both boys began to strip, off went the golden belts, crowns and chains, than the white robes, and hair clasps.
The task didn't require Kili to move, and he felt his ankle throb a little. He was all to eager to remove the smell of the grave from him. Treasure they were, but not worth the cost to his souls if the monsters traced them too it.
When stripped, Fili took the bundles of kingly jewels and tossed them as far away from them as he could.
A growl from Dwalin drew Kili's attention. The last barrow wright was down, but another departed the barrow. However, to his surprise, Mister Dwalin disengaged and ran towards them. Horror reflected in the big dwarf's features. "Get to your feet lads, and run or we'll have the entire barrow to fight!"
With Fili's arm around his waist, Kili painfully hobbled to one foot, his bad ankle made it impossible to put weight on it, but Fili kept him from falling until Mister Dwalin hauled Kili up into his strong arms and started to run.
Kili wasn't sure how long they bounded though the landscape, but it was dawn before they stopped and they were well across the road by the time Dwalin stopped to catch their breath. Fili stumbled to a stop at his side, holding his ribs as he panted.
It was only then Kili realized how chilled he was. Naked and curled up, the only heat he felt was from Dwalin's body. He shivered and wondered how Fili felt, the older boy was just as naked as he was.
The sun rose over the hills, spreading pinks and oranges across the grasslands. Its light kissed the wild flower faces, opening them to the clouds. A gentle breeze ushered in the morning, chasing away the dampness and ghosts of the night. For the first time in hours, Kili felt safe.
"I'm tired." Fili whispered. He straightened and looked hopefully at Dwalin. "But I am willing to walk back to the camp, I do not want to be in spitting distance of those horrible downs. "
"That won't be necessary," said Dwalin as he lowered Kili to the ground. "You'll have to walk the rest of the way to my camp, Kili, it's not far." The dwarven warrior rubbed his arms and stretched his cramped muscles.
The boy's ankle still smarted, and he could not put weight on it, but he was able to wrap an arm about his brother's shoulders to stand. "I can make it." Kili said bravely. Although he wasn't feeling very brave, he was ashamed.
By the frown of Fili's face, Kili knew Fili felt the same way. Gently he squeezed Fili's shoulder and smiled weakly. "We are alive at least."
Fili said nothing. Kili swore he saw tears rimming the tweenager's eyes but before he could offer more comfort, Dwalin started to walk. "This way."
Fili drew Kili close and started to follow. "Thank you," said Fili. His voice sounded gloom. "They were strong."
After walking a ways, Dwalin stopped in front of the remains of a camp. It was near several tall pines, and the earth was rocky, with little grass between trees and pine needles scattered about the ground. A small shelter with branches stood between the trees and the remains of fire sat near the shelter.
Dwalin must have camped there over night. He looked over his shoulder with angry eyes. "Once your are rested, you will tell me how in Mahal's name you two managed to camp out on a Barrow, after all my warnings."
* Poem taking from The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien