By the time Betta woke, to sorrow and restlessness, the dwarves had packed up most of the camp. They had waited for her to break their fast, and the food was steaming on the fire. There was last night's stew of potatoes and squirrel meat with dry bread to remind her of the happy night of song and stories that was now shrouded in orcs and fear. As she rose, both dwarves wished her a warm good morning – even Fili, though he did not look her in the eye – and their cheerfulness confused her. Her emotions still ran hot from the night before.

As they sat down to breakfast, Fili said nothing as he handed her a bowl. Betta would have begun their fight anew, but before she could speak, Kili sat down beside her. He assured her that his brother had regretted his hasty decision the night before, and he spoke long and elegantly to persuade her, but she was too tired to hear it. Only at the end did she understood that the dwarves meant to go on and continue their quest, if only she would agree.

Betta knew that Kili very much wanted her to agree, for he had his heart set on completing the adventure and still believed that they were meant to return laden with treasures to Ered Luin. Fili, however, had gone to prepare the ponies and gave no hint at how he felt in the matter except that he had not disagreed with anything that Kili had said.

Betta thought of the long, empty miles behind her, and of Kili's heartfelt plea to go on. The Dwarves had their mountain, but she had no home to return to. "I suppose that we must go on," she said. "The determination of two so sturdy Dwarves should not be gainsaid."

Kili smiled and was glad, but he saw that her eyes were on Fili as she spoke, and he knew that their troubles in that quarter were not yet ended. Betta clung to her grudges as stubbornly as Fili did his. Kili wished that his brother would simply apologize, even if he did not feel the words, but that was not his brother's way.

The dwarves packed up the remainder of the camp, and Kili scattered the ashes of their fire. He covered their tracks as best he could, but they had not been careful the night before and there was no repairing all the marks they had made. Fili saddled Betta's pony and offered his hand to help her mount the animal. Her arm gave her a great deal of pain, but she said nothing of it. Kili was watching them closely, and she was determined not to complain about an injury that was the result of her own foolishness.

"The wind has changed," Kili said, frowning as he stood beside his pony. He marked the movement of the bushes growing high atop Evendim. "It will only grow colder and blow more strongly once we leave the shelter of the hills."

"Then we must hope to make good time before we meet the snow," Fili said. "There is little shelter in the northern lands, and soon I will be beyond my knowledge." He did not say what else he thought, that after Evendim they would be wholly reliant on Betta's map to lead them to their treasure. He did not want his brother to think that his repentance that morning had been only for the sake of possible gold.

They set out late in the morning. Kili rode beside Betta and smiled whenever she looked his way, but she said nothing and did not return his smiles. Eventually he spurred his pony ahead to ride with his brother who was only a little more talkative.

.

As the morning grew old and the end of Emyn Uial marched closer, Kili once again fell back to ride beside Betta. It made her uncomfortable and she wished that he would leave her in peace with her thoughts. She did not know what to say to him, and more than that, she did not know how to interpret Fili's continued silence. He had not said a word to her since they broke camp, but he had twice looked back as they rode, and his face had been stern but not angry.

Kili noticed it, too. "He thinks that you are angry with him," he explained. "I have assured him that you are not, but he will not listen to me. He can be stubborn as a rusted winch, you know."

"I will not beg for his forgiveness," she said.

Kili shook his head. "I do not need to speak of stubbornness to you," he muttered.

Betta regretted her sharp words. This brother had not earned them. "I am sorry that you are caught between us," she said quietly.

Kili opened his mouth to reply, but then he frowned and was quiet for a time, looking ahead at his brother thoughtfully.

"I am sorry, also," she added, "for leaving your camp unguarded. I should not have done so, but I have never been responsible for such things. My brothers were always nearby, and they looked after me. Even when I thought that I wandered alone in the fields, I would always find that at least one of them had followed me in secret to see that I came to no harm." She smiled sadly. "In the wilderness, I have had only myself to guard."

"Fili has always looked out for me," Kili admitted, "even when there was no need. He still thinks that I am too irresponsible and always getting into trouble." He laughed. "In most cases, he would be right."

"You are lucky."

Kili nodded. "I did not used to think on it, but I begin to know it now, more and more." He wished to ask her of her own brothers; her uncles had died bravely in battle, and he guessed that their deaths would make another valiant tale, but he saw that her expression was pained. He thought it was because of her memories, and so he did not ask. He did not realize that the constant rise and fall of the pony she rode was jarring her arm with each step. He did not know that she had not slept that night, that her back was bruised where the orc had knelt on her, and that she was very, very tired.

"You might still have joined us in the battle," he said, lightly changing to softer subjects. "Your knife is sharp, but a bow is as good a weapon as an axe or a sword, if I do say so myself." He patted his bow that was hung beside him on the saddle.

"What help would I have been?"

He thought about it. Not much, he admitted, but there had been only two orcs and not much help had been needed. "If there had been more than two, you might have climbed a tree or hid in the bushes and fired upon our enemy unseen," he suggested.

"And if there were very many more, they would have seen where my arrows had flown from and cornered me, pulled me out of my tree like a bird from the nest that cannot fly," she said. She shook her head. "And then you and your brother would have been burdened with the protection of me. The orcs would have held a hostage to threaten you; although, I do not think that your brother would have put down his weapon only on the condition of my life…"

"And neither would I have done," Kili told her.

She looked at him in dismay, but he laughed. "Neither would we both put down our swords when there is a lady in distress, even if she is not a Dwarf. We would have cut through the ranks of the orcs, hewn them down as they stood until we reached you and boldly wrested you from their grasping hands!" He shook his fist in the air and laughed. Fili heard him and looked back, curiously, but Kili sighed then and shook his head.

"You were right not to come," he told her, "for probably that would have been the most dangerous thing for us all, more dangerous than for you to stay hidden in the woods until it was safe. You were right to do so, and Fili knows it, though he will not admit it."

Betta did not answer, but she felt more at ease and for a moment forgot the pain in her arm. She smiled and said, "In any case, my father always said that I was no proper Lady."

"I have heard of your uncles and your brothers," Kili said, "but you say little of your father. You carry his bow. He was a strong man?"

Betta felt her fists tighten on the reigns. "Yes, he was strong," she said, and nothing else. Kili frowned and searched for other conversation.

"If you wish, I might teach you to use a sword," he offered.

She laughed then, though it hurt to do so. "You would have your work cut out for you, and I would undoubtedly do more harm to myself in the use of it," she said. "No, but my knife is sharp."

"Sharp enough to cut orc," he agreed.

Betta knew that she had killed the orc through accident and luck, not through strength of arms, but she did not know that Kili also knew it. She looked across at him. "You also do not speak of your father. Did you know him well?"

He shook his head. "My brother and I were very young when our father sent us with our mother to live in the mountains of Ered Luin where our uncle, Thorin, her brother, had built up a strong settlement of Dwarves and was carving a new home for them under the mountain.

"In ancient years, before the rising of the sea, Dwarves had dwelt there, but their greatest Halls they had built in Nagrod and Belegost, of them and their loss you have heard in our songs. In the north Blue Mountains, there were only narrow tunnels and small caves that they had abandoned for there was little of value to be delved out of those mountains. Our folk widened the Halls and carved pillars in the stone and our uncle they called their Lord, for he was heir to the throne of… of another Hall that is now lost."

Kili knew that neither Fili nor Thorin would forgive him for naming the Lonely Mountain even if it were only on the edge of another tale. Luckily, Betta was feeling the pain of her arm again and not listening very closely. She did not question him regarding it.

"While Thorin was building his halls in Ered Luin, our family dwelt in the hills of Dunland near to the Misty Mountains. Thorin had dwelt there for a time before my brother and I were born, but in Dunland, the land was poor and there was little work for Dwarves short of coal mining and blacksmithing, as you must have seen…"

Betta nodded. She had seen a little of the Dwarf settlements of Dunland, but it was a wild land and she had not lingered long among its scattered villages and dangerous people. She was not one of the "straw-heads" that the hillmen hated, but their memories were longer than that, and they had little love for any descendant of the Men of Gondor and of the West who had enslaved them and driven them into the woods and away from the coasts many thousands of years ago.

"Our father saved up enough to buy us ponies and a wagon," Kili went on. "He joined my brother, mother and myself to a company of dwarves who were heading north along the Great Road, which was then still a well-used path for many folk. He sent us on ahead and expected to follow us soon after. Years passed, but always there was something new to delay him." Kili chuckled. "I think that he enjoyed his freedom a bit too much once he had rid himself of his proud wife and troublesome sons.

"I was much younger then and could tell you little of those days save the tales that I have been told. Fili, however," Kili nodded ahead to his brother, "he remembers more."

"But your father must come to Ered Luin eventually," Betta asked.

"He came now and again to see his family, but he and Thorin would often quarrel. Our mother was not happy with either of them, and our father would leave again, returning to Dunland. His own people came of that kindred and were not of the folk of Durin. At least, they are not very close kin. Thorin had never approved of his sister's match, and Dis did not approve of her brother's pride."

Kili sighed, but he had seen so little of his father on those visits, and he had been too young to know what he missed. Thorin had been a grim father but a good one, and Fili a devoted brother, and so Kili had spent little sadness on his father's death. The loss of his mother had hit nearer to his heart.

"It is almost twenty years ago now that he has been gone. He often travelled with a small company of dwarves into the mountains to search for new mines, and perhaps to quarry sulfur or even quartz veins in the stone. One day, none of the company returned and after many weeks of searching, his people gave him up for lost.

"Our mother would have gone to look for him, but Thorin held her back. It had taken two years for the news to reach Ered Luin, and he said that there would be no trail to follow. Buried in a collapse, everyone agreed. Or, perhaps, some small band of rogue orcs had escaped the wrath of the Dwarves during the War. It was not uncommon for companies to go missing, and the mountain passes are treacherous. Dis locked herself away and she was sick at heart. Thorin did what he could to nurse her, and she lingered for many years before she succumbed to grief."

Kill fell silent in thought and sadness. Thorin had blamed himself for the death of his sister, even more than he did the death of Frerin or Thrain. Once, in a moment of anger, Fili had said that Thorin was right to be blamed, but he had quickly taken back the words. Kili had not understood at the time, but later he learned how Thorin had disapproved of Dis' match. It was Thrain who had been well-pleased with his daughter's husband. After the loss of Erebor, their grandfather had planned to rebuild the kingdom north of Dunland near the land that was once called Hollin. Only after the great battle, when Moria could not be retaken, did Thorin convince his father and those who would follow them to return to Ered Luin.

Kili wondered if Thorin did not blame himself for all the troubles of their scattered people, for the dragons and the orcs and all of it. He had gone as far west as there was land to walk upon, seeking to outrun the darkness and the memory of the violent assault on Erebor where so many Dwarves had perished. in flame.

"What is the battle that you keep saying?" Betta asked, interrupting Kili's thoughts. "You have mentioned a great battle with the orcs before. And what is Moria? I have heard your brother say that name, but I do not know it."

Kili smiled. It was too long a tale to tell her of all the battles between Gundabad and Gladden, but for the rest of the morning he told her all he knew of the Battle of Azanulbizar where the orcs of Moria had been destroyed in great numbers and his own uncle and cousin had fallen, and where Thorin Oakenshield had earned his great name. Ahead of them, Fili listened and now and then he called back to correct his brother or to add names to the rolls of proud dwarves who had done great deeds there.

It was then that Betta was told what it was to be a Burned Dwarf and of the honor of being close kin to one. She thought that she finally understood Fili's anger on the first day of their journey when she had not known and had treated carelessly the title. Back then, she did not have as much practice in dealing with the pride of Dwarves.

So, this was a long chapter... But considering that this whole story was meant to be 15-20 chapters and we're not even half-way through it yet, I don't think anyone should be surprised to learn that whenever I try to "edit" a post, it becomes longer.

Fun fact: I average about 8-10 re-writes per chapter before I post them to you. It's a thing I like to call quality assurance. So if you find any mistakes, for the love of Iluvatar, let me know!

-Paint