Fili walked through the verdant greenwood, whistling a cheerful tune. A heavy string of rabbit and squirrel was slung over his shoulder. It was a warm spring day and the little animals had woken from their long sleep to find earth and branch full of a leaf and berry. They had eaten hungrily until they were fat and slow but not yet wise to the traps that he laid for them. In no time at all, Fili could walk down the line, emptying and resetting, and return home with a feast for his family.

He smiled to think of the pride he would feel laying down his catch upon the table and seeing his wife smile, proud of her husband, glad for his return, content in the life they had together. He thought of her swollen belly and the child that she nourished within her.

Ahead of him, the forest grew thinner and the trees parted. He climbed down the path and entered the wide clearing. Here were still scattered the low trunks of trees that he had felled with his sharp axe to build the log cabin and the stable for their animals; there was the tall wood pile full of logs to ward off the still-cool nights. The grass was green, the sun was bright, and it was a homey scene.

Fili strode up to the door and gave it two firm raps before opening it without waiting for an answer. Only for an instant, as he stepped over the threshold, did he wonder why a cabin? What dwarf would live between walls of wood in the middle of a forest? But the thought was gone as he entered the large, sunlit room, calling for his wife.

The cabin was empty.

He frowned and took another step forward, then another. He stood in the center of the room and set his game down on the table. The sunlight fell through the shuttered windows in thin bands of pale gold, but the air was stale and as he looked about himself, he saw that all the floor and furniture was layered with fine dust. He looked back and saw footprints marking the path that he had tread from door to table. The table was coated in dust as well and the animals that lay upon it were thin to the bone and sickly. Had they not been fat and healthy only moments before?

Fili turned all about, searching the abandoned homestead until his eyes came to rest on the bed pushed up against the farthest corner. It was wide and built to be shared, but no happy couple had slept in it for months, if not years. The posts were warn and splintered, the mattress split open and the straw had been pillaged by scavenging mice. On the pillow, something flashed in a dull sunbeam. He approached it slowly, warily, with his hand on his axe.

It was the pearl; he knew it in his heart, but it was not the same stone that he had carried in his pocket for so long. Always before it had seemed purple or the deepest blue; now, it was as black as a night without stars, as dark as the shadows in the deepest cavern of the mountains. If there was any color to be found in it, it was the deep, dark red of spilled blood, a color that stole all light from the world and swallowed hope down its pitiless maw.

Fili reached out and picked up the sea-jewel, but he knew now with a certainly that it was not a pearl that he held. This stone was not precious or valuable; it was a curse, an evil thing. It felt larger in his hand that it had before, and heavier, hotter, as if he had just plucked it from the heart of a forge-fire. It burned his hand as he held it, but he did not dare to put it down again for fear that it would set fire to the bed and burn the cabin down around him. This home was abandoned, but hadn't it once been his? Hadn't these rooms been filled with light and laughter and his family?

The ground shook under his feet and he felt the sound before he heard it, a low, loud rumble that rolled through his body like boulders falling in the mountains, the boom of thunder, the groaning of gears and grinders in the heart of the mountain mines.

The ground shook, and there was a crash in the kitchen. Fili spun around and saw that the wooden doors of the cabinets had sprung open and the clay pots and bowls within had been shaken out and shattered upon the floor. Other odds and ends tumbled from their shelves and even the table beside him seemed to jump with every tremendous, crushing boom. He heard another explosion outside, closer this time, and ran out of the cabin, taking the pearl but leaving the small animals upon the table; their meat was rotten and attracting flies.

Outside, the lush forest was barren and leafless, the fair glade a blasted waste of dust and debris. All was desolate and wild, and before him, Fili saw a mountain rise up, tall and sheer-sided with long spurs reaching out towards him. He had never seen this mountain before, but the shape was one that he knew well. There was only one mountain in all the tales of his people that stood so alone, sundered from any other range.

"Erebor…" he whispered.

As if in answer to his word, there came speeding over the great cliffs a dragon. The Dragon.

Fili stared in horror and bewilderment. The dragon was so much larger than he had imagined it would be; it was to the mountain like a vulture circling a cowering kit rabbit. Larger than a two-storied house, larger than the mountain it smote with its long tail, its teeth were rows of swords and its red-gleaming scales were interlocked like a shield-wall, row upon row of impenetrable strength.

He felt the heat of the dragon's breath blown down upon the cringing cliffs and saw the pine forest kindled to a blaze of light and fire. The roar of the charging army sounded, and the dragon's tail once more smote the mountain side. Great stones were split and cracked in half as easily as a hand might crack an egg.

His uncle was in that mountain, and his brother and so many of his friends. Thorin and Kili had gone to Erebor while Fili, the eldest brother, his uncle's heir, had tarried behind them in a fair glade, playing at house with an imaginary wife and stillborn babe.

He fell to his knees with a cry of grief. The burning pain of his hand was not punishment enough for the selfishness that he had shown.

And then the ground heaved him upwards, flinging him upon his face. The dragon roared, a deafening sound, and Fili knew that he had been discovered. It was only a matter of time before he was devoured by that gaping jaw, those iron teeth. Already, he could feel the heat of the fire. Flames had kindled in the straw thatch of the cabin's roof and what was left of his happy dream was burning.

Fili rolled onto his back, determined to be brave at the last and face his enemy with his eyes open, but all was dark around him. The sun had gone out and with her the moon and stars. The fire burned darkly and was covered over with a shroud of sorrow and pain. Unable to confront that emptiness, he closed his eyes…

The ground heaved again, as if to force his eyes open again, but he was only shaken this time, not thrown by it.

"Fili, wake up!"

He was shaken again, by hands. He opened his eyes and saw his brother's face. For a moment, he did not believe it; had Kili survived and returned to him so that they might die together?

"Wake up, Fili. She's gone!"

Kili shook him again, but saw that his brother was finally awake. He sat back on his heels and pointed to the other side of the cave.

"Gone?" Fili muttered, still half in his dreams. "Who…?" His right hand pained him, and he looked down at it. He was not surprised to find that he had taken the pearl from his pocket while he slept. The pain was from the hard grip that had held it tight in his fist.

He sat up, slipping the pearl back into his pocket before Kili could see it. He massaged with his fingers the bruised circle in the center of his palm and looked around. "What do you say? Who is gone?" he asked. The smell of the smoke from their campfire threatened to drag him back into dreaming.

"Betta is gone," Kili repeated impatiently. "Not an hour ago, I woke her for her watch and then took myself back to sleep, but I was restless. I had very troubled dreams and woke again. When I looked about me, I saw that she was gone. She is not outside nor anywhere to be found. She has gone."

Fili blinked at his brother's anxious face. He struggled to shake off the shadows that still seemed to cling to him, but the details of his dream were fading. Kili still pointed, and Fili followed his arm. The corner where Betta had spread out her blanket the evening before was empty. He looked at the pile of baggage and saw that her pack was gone as well.

So, she had not waited for morning. He sighed, but in his heart, he was not surprised. She guessed then that he meant to continue the argument under the morning light, to try to convince her to go south with them. She had not wanted to say no to him again.

"It is alright, Kili," he said, pulling his brother to sit down. It was making him dizzy to be always craning his neck to look up at the anxiously pacing dwarf. "I knew that she meant to go. I only hoped that she would be wise enough to wait for the sun to see her safely on her way."

"You knew and still you let her go!" Kili stared at him in amazement, unsure whether he could be angry with his brother or not. "Why did you not try to stop her?"

"And how should I do that when she slips away so quietly in the night?" Fili looked at the empty corner where Betta had lain. "It is for the best," he said, as much to himself as to his brother. "She knew that I meant to return south today. It is too dangerous to walk blindly north and east, but she would not turn back, and so we agreed that the time had come for us to part ways, for her to go forward and…"

"You agreed!" Kili interrupted him, staring at Fili with barely restrained anger and indignation. "Is my opinion of no value to you that you would take secret council without me?" he demanded.

"It was no secret council," Fili insisted. "I wished to speak of other things, but she…" He shook his head. "It matters not. I did not seek your opinion, for I knew without asking what it would be and to consult with you would only lead to more delay. These hills are deadly, and I will not lead my brother any nearer to the haunted realm."

"Then I shall save you the trouble," Kili said. "You need lead him no longer." He stood up. "You may choose to abandon our guide, but I will not. Go home if you will, and tell Thorin that it is by my own free choice that I follow this quest to the end. I see now that I have been wrong in my judgment. It was not Betta's love for you that I should have doubted, but the false love that you have shown for her."

Fili jumped to his feet, his face red with anger. "Be quiet," he ordered. "You do not know what you speak of. You are too young. You cannot understand."

"Now we learn who has the clearer sight," Kili said. He was no longer angry but looked at his brother sadly and shook his head. "I am no dwarfling nursing his first beard. It is true that I have seen fewer seasons than you, but not so few that you may order me about as you would a child. How many times have you sworn to bring Betta safely back to Ered Luin? Do you abandon her now when the night grows dark? Think how far she has walked under the burden of your scorn and later under your seeming love. Are you too afraid to walk a road with your brother beside you that your woman would willingly walk alone?"

Fili scowled. "It is not only for that," he protested. "My life is nothing to me. I would have gone with her to the end, but how am I to put forward my brother's life which Thorin entrusted to my care? My love for Betta is not seemingly only, and she knows it now, but she also knew that I must return you to our uncle. Kili, this land is dangerous!"

"Of course it is," he said with a wave of his hand, "and the night is dark, and the river is wet; there is nothing in that. We shall have more danger and worse on the road to Erebor."

Kili sighed and put his hand on his brother's arm. "Fili, you are my brother and I love you, but I will not now go south with you. If we had ponies, you might tie me up and carry me home like so much baggage. But I am no dwarfling, and you cannot force me to go unless you mean to march me south at the tip of your sword like a captured criminal?"

Fili considered it thoughtfully, and then he shook his head. "No," he said, "that would only encourage your willfulness, and I should have a hard time watching you. You might sneak away in the night like our guide." He had told Betta that his stubbornness was not worn away, but he had not counted on the journey having sharpened Kili's will as well. "It is a hard thing to argue for a path that my heart tells against, but you said once that if we came to this crossroads you would follow me and not our guide. Do you take back your words now?"

It was Kili's turn to scowl. "That was long ago when I said that," he muttered. "I cannot reason with you; you are not yourself, and you twist my words when you throw them back at me." He shook his head, but his resolve was weakened. "The danger now is different than it was then, and I cannot believe that you would abandon our guide to that cursed mist!"

"Mist?" Fili looked up in surprise. He had forgotten the mist thinking that Betta would not be foolish enough to go out into it. He hurried to the mouth of the hollow and looked down upon the road.

The mist had indeed returned and it was thicker and darker than before. The sky above was full of clouds and there was little light to shine upon the ground, but the mist seemed to carry its own infernal green glow. It had rolled down the length of the road, spilling over into valley and ravine, washing up in waves against the hills, and it had risen so high that it seemed determined to arch over the stone and cover their camp completely – only the power of the standing stone held it at bay. There was the smell of magic in the air and what few stars shone through the clouds were sickly pale and guttering like small candles in the wind.

It was still night and would be for several hours before dawn drove away the mist. If Kili's count was right, Betta had nearly an hour's lead on them. Had she walked out into the dark knowing the danger that she faced? Or, had she been overtaken on the road and was wandering now lost and in danger of walking off some hidden cliff? They had passed many such drops along the side of the road, and there were other dangers besides that might hide behind the cover of a thick fog. Fili knew well what danger was in these hills, and he had not told her of the attack in the glade.

"Damn that woman's stubbornness," he muttered. He looked back at their camp, at their packs and supplies within the safe shelter. "If we leave now, we must abandon this place. We cannot be sure that we will find our way back again," he said. "I cannot go alone and leave my brother here."

He was speaking to himself, but Kili answered him. "Your brother will not stay behind again," he said. "We packed nearly all last night in preparation for the morning march. Betta will surely stick to the road. Her tracks lead down to it until the mist covers them. I should think that even you could follow a human woman through deep snow."

"I can track her," Fili said, but he hesitated. "She wished us to go south, and I told her that we would. I do not know whether she will be glad to find we have followed her."

"Then she must suffer her disappointment," Kili said. "She should have known that I would not give her up so easily." He bent down and picked up his pack. He heaved it onto his bruised shoulders with a wince, but the long day of rest had nearly healed him. His determination silenced what little pain he still felt.

"I will gladly follow you, if you lead north," Kili said. "Otherwise, I go alone."

Fili looked at his brother and was proud to call him kin. He knew in his heart that Kili would not go alone. If Fili turned south, his brother would grudgingly follow him; but Kili had turned his face north knowing that Fili would follow. It was only a question of which brother had the upper hand and the stronger will as to who would win this argument, but Fili was the only one not certain of his purpose.

He smiled, picked up his pack and set it on his shoulders. "We shall follow Betta," he said, "but only until I am convinced that she is safe. Once I know that no harm has come to her, I will fulfill my promise and take you back to Thorin."

"We shall see," Kili said, "but think how much easier it will be for two dwarves rather than one to convince our guide to leave with us."

Fili nodded, and that thought gave him hope. He wrapped a thick branch and lit it in the fire for a torch, and then he kicked out the embers. He thought briefly of his dream of the burning cabin and the mountain blasted by dragon's fire. Had there not been a similar dream long ago before they had started upon this quest? He had not at the time believed in magic or omens, but now he wondered if he should not have heeded the warning when it was first given.

"We may well be walking into a trap," he said, as he and his brother left the hollow.

"Then we shall be trapped all three together," Kili answered with more courage than he felt. Now that they were approaching the unnatural mist, he hesitated. It was a more daunting barrier than it had seemed at a distance. "Perhaps we should…"

He was going to suggest that they wait for morning, but now that Fili's mind was made up, he strode forward and was determined not to fail in the test. He stepped up to the edge of the mist with his head held high and, to his amazement, it drew back before him as the ocean before the prow of a ship.

He turned back to Kili who still stood hesitating. "It seems we were wrong to be afraid," he said.

"Or we are being tempted on to a more deadly enemy."

Fili looked forward again and frowned. "Come then," he said. "Stay close to me. I would not lose you, too. Unless you wish to take back your words and go south."

Kili would not go south, and so he hurried closer to his brother and reached forward, taking hold of the belt of Fili's pack. Thus linked, they left the open ground and stepped into the shadows of the mist. As they walked forward, its fingers closed in about them and they were surrounded with only a few feet of thinner smoke that showed themselves and the ground under their feet. Fili could see Betta's prints in the snow, and he followed them, conscious of the tug of his brother's hand on his pack.

The shadow seemed a physical thing, and it pressed down upon his mind until all his thought and sight were bent upon the trial he followed and each print in the snow seemed to glow white before him, drawing him on with the promise of finding the woman that he had lost. It was the thought of her that had withdrawn the veil from his eyes when he lay in despair upon the open plain, but now the veil was too heavy and would not be lifted. He marched on and his hand fell into his pocket, feeling for the weight of the pearl.

.

As the two dwarves disappeared into the mist, stumbling with their arms outstretched like blind men, they did not look back at the standing stone, and so they did not see that the mist rose up like a flood overtaking a house. The few embers they had left glowing were snuffed out as it stretched its searching fingers into the hollow. Only the very top of the stone was yet visible, its bald head rising up like a black island in a dark and twisted sea.

You didn't really think that our noble dwarves could abandon their guide after all that they've been through together, did you? Kili sure can be stubborn sometimes.

-Paint