Middle-earth, and all who dwell within it, belongs to Tolkien. I am grateful to him for growing this beautiful garden in which our imaginations can play. Please review!

It is done, Fili told himself, as he walked away from his brother, leaving the pearl behind in a snowbank. He knew that he must also tell Betta what he had decided before it could be truly over between them; but, as he approached the fire, his mind made up and ready to answer any protest she might make, he looked up and saw the firelight glowing warm against the faded, familiar hood of her cloak. Her head was bowed and her face hidden, but in her hand, he saw a glint of gold.

Fili stopped short, remembering the bead that he had woven into her hair two nights ago. It was one of many such embellishments that he had worn at one time or another in his beard or in his hair since reaching his majority; his duties were often strenuous, and he had lost many a bauble that had fallen out and been lost or been put into a pocket and forgotten. It was the third night of their journey that he had discovered the bead in his coat, but he had had no reason to think on it until Betta asked him to braid her hair.

No dwarf woman would think to fashion her hair without some decoration, beads or golden thread woven through, and he had slipped the only one he had into Betta's hair without much thought. He had not realized until seeing it now, that while he had been worrying over the piece of her that he held in his pocket, she had been carrying a piece of him as well.

All his thought flashed in an instant of sparkling gold, but Betta had heard his footsteps as he approached, and she quickly thrust the braid and bead back under her hood before she looked up. By then, Fili had recovered and he hurried past her and turned his face away. He hoped that she would not read his feelings on his face; his head was ready to forget her, but his heart was not, and until the two were aligned, he could not speak to her. Besides, there were so many other more pressing needs. It was bitterly cold. Kili had already complained of it. Fili turned his thoughts to that and his eyes to the cavern behind their camp.

Too late to see what had transpired, Kili returned from the mouth of the cave, and joined his brother in contemplating the empty blackness. The storm had grown fierce outside, and the wind shrieked like a mountain cat above their heads. Even the tender flames of the campfire seemed to tremble in the wind and huddled down together among the embers.

"We need a better shelter," Fili said, his eyes straining to pierce the shadows of the cavern. "That place would take us out of the wind…"

"It would," Kili agreed, "but there are things worse than cold."

Fili frowned. There was no other option that he could see, but he understood his brother's reluctance. There was an unwholesome feel to the air beyond the mouth of the cavern, and the darkness was like none that he had seen before. He looked down at Betta and saw her shivering. He looked at his brother; Kili had put his torch back into the fire and put on his gloves, but he, too, was shivering visibly in spite of his warm clothes.

"The cold is our enemy tonight," Fili decided. "There may be other dangers in there, but until we meet them, we cannot fight them. We would be fools to freeze to death hiding from imagined enemies."

"I suppose… If we have no other choice…" Kili said, unconvinced.

As if in answer to his words, from above, they heard the loud groan of tortured ice, louder than the sound of the storm. It grew in volume before finally ending suddenly in a sharp crack like a shot that resounded through the cave, echoing against the walls. Both dwarves ducked reflexively; it was the same sound made by an overstressed chain when the iron links began to snap, but there was no sign of change in the portion of the roof that they could see by the light of the fire. The echoes slowly died away leaving only the distant thump of falling snow and, of course, the wind.

Fili glanced at his brother, but Kili was looking up at the roof. Both wore identical expressions of concern. The longer the storm lasted, the heavier would be the snow that gathered on the roof over their heads. The ice ceiling had been damaged in the battle with the troll. How much weight could it hold before it collapsed upon them?

Fili thought of the new pillar of ice, the remains of the snow-troll, and tried to remember whether the thing were tall enough or broad enough to provide any support should the ice cave begin to crumble. He considered it, and then shook his head. He was a better judge of stone than of ice, but he guessed that the fractures ran too deep, the damage was too great. If the roof decided to fall, it would fall, and no amount of troll ice or hope could stop it.

"I wish that our former host had thought to leave us the oilcloth and rods," Kili said. "We might shelter in the stone hut down below…"

"The walls were fallen in, you said, and the roof no better than a slab. If it is too cold in here, then we would not survive out there," Fili said. "There is only one choice left."

Kili sighed, but he nodded. At one time, the troll's front porch might have been a snug shelter for them, but no more. Their campfire was near enough to the back of the cave that the brothers deemed it safe for Betta to remain where she was; the talk of other danger had convinced Fili that they should make a general search of the place before they moved their camp. Kili unrolled Betta's blanket and helped to wrap it firmly about her shoulders, then he blew on the unwilling fire and used every trick he knew to coax it into burning.

"If you hear another sound like the one we heard before," he told her before he left, "do not wait for us. Crawl if you must, but get into the cavern and as far back from the ice roof as you can. Don't worry about the fire. You already stacked enough wood inside." He smiled, but could not erase the worry from his eyes. He made sure that her bow and bundle of arrows were within reach.

Fili stood at a distance, holding two torches and keeping his eyes carefully averted from the farewell scene. He said nothing to Betta, and Kili was bothered by his brother's coldness towards their guide, but he did not blame him for being still hurt by what she had done. He joined his brother and took one of the torches then looked into the cavern again. The shadows seemed thicker and darker than before, more ominous and threatening. He took a deep breath and followed Fili inside.

The cavern was, as Betta had guessed, very deep and very wide. The stone ceiling rose above their heads, higher and higher until it was swallowed by the darkness. Their small torches could not light it, and even the sharp eyes of the dwarves could not pierce those shadows. Fili reached out his hand and struck the hilt of his knife against the stone. The single, quick tap echoed up and up, around and around, at least seventy feet before it reached the ragged ceiling and dissipated among the stucco and stalactites.

The dwarves stood just inside the wide open mouth of the cavern and to their left and right the walls swung out like broad, encircling arms. As high up as they could see, the stone was remarkably smooth and solid. Kili touched the wall nearest to him and frowned. It was not the usual soft stone of a mountain cave, though there were traces of limestone and a few swirls of adulterated marble throughout the igneous rock, it was clear that this space could not have been made by the natural forces of erosion and time.

"You go left and I go right, brother," Fili said. He looked back over his shoulder at Betta's campfire and held up his own torch. "Do not lose sight of the lights, and watch your feet. We cannot afford another injury, or to get lost in these caves."

Kili heartily agreed. He bid his brother farewell and watched Fili set off along the right-hand wall. After a moment's hesitation, he took his own torch to the left and began walking. He kept half an eye on the floor beneath his feet, knowing how treacherous and slippery a cavern floor could be, but his investigation was focused on the wall. They could build their fire along the smooth side, but he would rather find a niche or hollow deep enough for them to camp inside and sleep in relative safety.

He had only travelled a dozen yards or so around the perimeter when he spotted exactly what he wished to find: a cave inside of a cave. The first that he encountered was narrow and only a few feet deep, more like a small alcove, but it gave him hope. He continued along the wall and, as he progressed deeper into the mountain and away from the entrance, the recesses grew deeper. He shone his light into one promising opening and found their new campsite. The cave was nearly ten feet deep and, though only five feet high, it had smooth walls and a sandy floor. Two dwarves and a short woman could easily build their temporary campsite within.

Kili looked back toward the mouth of the cavern to measure how far it was from where he stood. Far away, to his right, he saw the small light of his brother's torch gleaming like a gem among shadows. Fili had progressed much faster and gone farther down his side of the wall, and Kili hurried forward again, eager to reach him and tell what he had found.

The wall began to curve around in front of him, becoming the back rather than the side of the cavern. The scattered caves grew deeper and more winding and finally their back walls dropped away and they were tunnels, deep and dark and curving down, down into nothing. At each one, Kili stopped and sniffed the air. Most were dead ends and neither fresh nor stale breeze came out of them, but some… from two of the tunnels, Kili could feel the cold air moving. He inhaled, and smelled the grainy breath of long, damp years.

He had nearly reached the back of the cavern and could see his brother's torch approaching him along the other side, when he passed a tunnel that was much wider than any that had come before. Wider than his arm-span, the hole sat pressed against the wall as if it were a disk that had been leaned there long ago. No light pierced the shadows, and as Kili stood still, straining his ears and his eyes into the impenetrable gloom, he thought that he heard the rustle of something far below. It was a strange sound, and one that he did not recognize, but he hurried past the tunnel, shielding the light of his torch with his body. He told himself that there were often small creatures living in the upper regions of even the most remote system of caves, but that did not comfort him. The sound had sent a shiver down his spine, and he would rather not know what made it. These were not the well-trod paths of Ered Luin, or even the long-abandoned passages in the southern mines near old Nogrod where he and his brother used to go exploring. No, the tunnels in this mountain range had never been explored by dwarves and never would be, not unless the world were changed and spring came again to the haunted hills.

Certainly, Kili had no intention of exploring them tonight. He hurried toward the light of his brother's torch. He had had enough of caves and tunnels and wished that he were back in the tall, dwarf halls at Ered Luin. He turned his light inward toward the center of the cavern and the darkness within the encircling, stone arms; he hoped to find something interesting there, but saw only more of the troll's filthy hoard.

Near the center of the cavern was another mound of meat, this one more rotten and smelling worse than the other. There was the same broken stone and rusted iron, though not stacked neatly in piles; they were scattered over the floor with a few wide and wandering paths pushed between them. As Kili approached the rear of the cavern, he saw other piles, dropped here and there, short and wide and smelling foul. He pinched his nose and hurried past them, gagging as he realized what they were.

"Never again," he muttered to himself. Once they escaped this place, he would never again set foot in a troll hole, not even if a pack of orcs were chasing him.

Fili's torch was only a few yards away, and Kili could see the outline of his brother's face in its light. He hurried forward, but in his eagerness, failed to watch his feet. The floor of the cave was polished smooth and coated with a thin layer of water and ice. Kili felt his feet slip as he slid forward, and it was all that he could do to stay upright. He could not slow down or stop.

"Fili!" he called.

Luckily, his brother saw him coming and had already discovered the hazardous patch of ice. Fili stepped forward to meet him, bracing himself on the iron heel of his boot. He caught hold of his brother's arm, and they slid only a few feet back before the iron caught and they stopped.

"That was close," Fili said, looking back and down over his shoulder. "You should be more careful, brother. Our night might have been much colder than it already is."

Kili followed his brother's gaze and saw that, only a few feet beyond where they had skidded to a halt, there lay a narrow, swift-flowing stream. The back wall of the cavern had been shaped into a sort of curving grotto, and along the floor, emerging from the right-hand wall and disappearing into the left; the water flowed along a straight-cut channel only a few feet wide. This would be the sound of water that Betta had claimed to hear, and the ice on the floor had come from the bubbling waves and perhaps – judging from the smell – from the troll's further use of the stream for a toilet.

Kili scowled and hoped that the filth had done no damage to his boots, but Fili held out his torch and looked thoughtfully down at the stream. It was not surprising to find water in a cave, but the channel here was far too straight to be natural; from the smooth walls to the rounded tunnels, very little in this place seemed formed by nature.

"This stone was not cut by the water," Kili said. He lowered his torch and saw sharp edges and even the lines of an ancient carved boarder along the side of the stream.

"It was shaped by hands," Fili agreed, "and not the hands of any troll." He knelt down to examine the carvings more closely. "But it is old, very old."

"Elves?" Kili asked.

Fili shook his head. "I do not think so."

Kili looked up, past the mounds of troll dung and saw the distant light of the campfire. He thought of the woman who sat beside it.

"Will you tell her?" he asked.

Fili looked into the rushing water and frowned. Kili knew what he was thinking: If they told Betta about this new discovery, she would insist that it had been carved by the people of Ankor, her ancestors, and she would want to continue her quest. If they did not tell her and let things stand as they did now, both brothers could see that their guide was beaten down and defeated. It would be a simple thing to convince her to abandon the quest and return with them to Ered Luin. Even if she believed in her heart that the quest had failed, with a clue to follow, she was just stubborn enough to go on.

Fili stood up. "There is no danger here," he said. "We might safely camp in one of the caves farther up. The rest will wait for morning. I am too tired to think on it tonight." He saw Kili's expectant expression and sighed. "You think that I should tell her," he said.

Kili shook his head. "I think that you both have yet to speak plainly to each other, and I am tired of this skulking about." He shrugged his shoulders. "But you are right and whether we go on or go back, we can do nothing more tonight. It may be better to investigate the thing more carefully before we raise Betta's hopes again."

Glad for his brother's understanding, Fili smiled. "We will make a better search tomorrow," he said. "There were many caves to choose from on my side of the cavern, but none that seemed very hospitable. Did you find anything?"

Kili described the cave that he had chosen, and Fili agreed that it was better than any he had seen. They made their way back up toward the mouth of the cavern and the distant glow of the fire.

"We must fashion a screen as best we can," Fili said. "It is warmer indoors, but still cold, and the fire must be kept burning all through the night. I would not like it to burn openly. Anything that we might do to block the light from prying eyes…" He trailed off as they passed the narrow mouth of a tunnel.

Kili eyed the opening warily. "I think that any creature that lives in this thick dark will not be fooled by any screen, but it will help to hold in the heat."

"We must have heat," Fili agreed, but in his heart, he was thinking of Betta's injury. The cold would not help her stiff legs and sore muscles, but there was nothing more that they could do for her here.

"I would rather take shelter anywhere else," Kili said. "So long as we are here, we must make the best of things. And yet, this place feels wrong to me. It is more like a burial vault than a dwelling, like some ancient, sacred place that was long ago abandoned and defiled."

Fili thought of the vision that he had had while he lay out on the snow covered plain, a circle of mountain walls rising up to become the dome of a tomb over his head. He looked back into the cavern toward the stream and carved stone and had the sudden premonition of death.

"It is a cave, nothing more," he muttered. "Hurry up, Kili. I am tired, and we have yet a little more work to do before we can rest."

Well, I have had a bummer of a week (minus the holiday days, of course) but I hope that yours went well and that the coming new year (for those whose new year starts this week) finds you both happy and prosperous.

I have received a number of very positive remarks on our OC, Betta, and I'm glad to hear that so many of you still like her. I must admit that I've grown quite fond of her myself, which is really a shame, because... but I'd hate to spoil the suspense for you, so we'd best just wait for the next chapter.

Please review! Your thoughts and comments truly do influence my ideas in this story.

I am, as always, your grateful author,

-Paint