Fili sped down the short passage, ready to do battle. Whatever foul creature or fell beast had threatened his company, it would soon feel the bit of dwarvish steel! He would have vengeance for any injury done to his brother or to Betta.

With a warrior's shout, he leaped through the door and then… skidded to a halt. The battle cry died on his lips and his arms dropped to his sides. The swords in his hands were forgotten as he blinked his eyes and stared around him, dazzled by the light. His mouth hung open in wonder and surprise.

The tunnel opened onto a wide, flat shelf overhanging a steep cliff. To his right, Fili saw Betta and Kili standing unharmed and looking around in astonishment equal to his own, though the initial shock of what they saw had worn off of them. Fili was still stunned.

He stood now in a steep chasm, perhaps thirty yards wide, a dozen across and as many high above their heads. The roof was a broad, domed arch with a single wide but narrow window cut into the stone. Through that window fell the red-gold light of the setting sun. The light itself would have been dazzling after the dark tunnels and smoky torches they had grown used to, but it was not only sunlight that had stunned him. Below the window was a rounded shaft cut into the stone by some ancient waterfall. The fall had long since been stopped up, but from a dozen cracks and crevices there poured arching fountains of cold, clear water, reflecting the sunlight in a myriad of shapes and brilliant color.

The thunder of that falling water, which he had mistaken for the roar of flame, was deafening, and the smooth walls of the cavern echoed with the noise. It was louder than an avalanche to Fili's experienced ears, but there was no heat. The air was cold, in fact, and the cool mist from the waters fell upon his face.

The light of the setting sun broke upon the falling water, turning the fountains to liquid gold and dripping fire. Some of the streams were fast and furious, bursting free of the stone and arching over the chasm like flocks of white birds flying out of an enclosed aerie. Others were slower and dripped down the rough walls in sparkling ribbons of flashing light. Many-colored rainbow bands hovered over the mingling waters reflected on the mist, and in the corners of the chasm where the shadows of outthrust stone blocked the rays of sunlight, still the waters glittered like scattered diamond chips, and the foam on the mouths of the spouts from which sprang the fountains was painted with pearlescent sheen. Even where the stone walls were not shining with reflecting waters, bronze pyrite glittered in geometric shapes, adding gold to gold.

Fili stood for uncounted minutes, marveling at the sight before he returned to himself long enough to realize the danger that he had narrowly avoided. The cliff where he stood was somewhat sheltered from the falling water; they were nearer to the left side of the chasm and the fountains were on the right, but the stone under his feet was still damp, and he counted his lucky coins that he had not slipped as he ran out of the tunnel; he might easily have cast himself over the unguarded edge.

Fili closed his mouth and sheathed his swords. The natural beauty of the fountains were enough to bring tears to the eyes of the most hard-hearted dwarf, and his mind set to work unbidden planning spouts and spigots to control the waters; he measured the speed of each stream and balanced their arching sprays, designing the tools that he would need to polish broken fissures into smooth channels and direct them more evenly.

And yet, almost as soon as the plans were formed, he shook his head and cast them aside. No hand of his was skilled enough to cut those fountains more beautifully than nature had done herself. She knew her work too well, and Fili knew his limits. It was not his place to interfere.

The noise of the falling water had muffled Fili's shouts, and it was some time before his company realized that he had joined them. Betta turned and saw him first. She smiled and Fili was once more amazed; he marveled that the beauty of her smile did not dim the light of the fountains behind her. For a moment, he thought that he had seen a brief glimpse of her in her girlhood, her eyes bright and sparkling, and her smile free of grief. Her mouth moved, but he could not hear the words she spoke. He stared at her and shook his head, so she walked carefully across the smooth shelf to his side.

"Is it not a treasure to behold?" she said, shouting so that her voice would be heard above the crashing sound. She turned back to the fountains and laughed.

Fili laughed with her, and he nodded. "Aye," he said, knowing that she could not hear him. "It is… it is beautiful." He was no longer looking at the fountains.

Betta took his hand and led him closer to the edge of the cliff. Fili was wary and would have held her back, but he found that though the rock was slick with water, it was rough enough that his feet did not slide and the floor was angled back; there was little chance that they would slip off accidentally. Kili did not notice them; his thoughts were on rock and stone, making plans as Fili had tried to do.

At the edge of the shelf, Betta pointed down, and Fili followed her hand. What he saw below was even more breathtaking than the vision above, less beautiful and more terrible in its strength and violence. Nearly thirty yards beneath their cliff were more fissures in the stone walls, but these were not fine fountains. They were the results of several rushing river courses that all emerged and flowed into this one place; the upper fissures were mere cracks in the stream, the true torrent lay below.

Below the shelf, three great rivers crashed together with a force that would have crushed stone and bent steal if it could have been held against them. The fountains falling from above merged also with the rivers in a crashing explosion of foam and a thrusting mountain of churning water. It rose up like a huge sculpture of abstract shape that was forever moving and changing its form. The floor of the chasm, where it was not obscured by the battling waters, was hidden in shadows, but in the center beneath the shaft of fountains, a deep hole had been delved over many years.

It was the hole that held Fili's gaze even more than the churning waters. The pothole was dark and dreadful in its perfect roundness. It reminded him of a great, gaping mouth that swallowed up the waters of the world, its thirst unquenchable. For all their roiling, churning battles, the waters all eventually poured down that hole, vanishing into stone and leaving the shallow pool around it almost impossibly still.

The power of it all and the height on which he stood made Fili momentarily dizzy. He held tight to Betta's arm and tore his eyes from the waters below. He looked up at the vision of golden sunlight and was struck by the contrast between the peace above and the wars down below.

Kili had finally noticed Fili, and he looked sidelong at him, smiling to see the wonder on his brother's usually stern face. After a vision such as this, Kili thought, they would think nothing of the great, glittering treasury of Erebor. What was gold metal to this room of golden light?

He was about to turn away when something caught his eye. Looking down, Kili saw that Fili's arm was linked with Betta's, and her hand was clasped tight between both of his. He smiled and shook his head, then turned his eyes back to watch the dance of fire and ice, the mingling of light and water than played out before their eyes.

The sight did not last for many minutes longer. Already the sun's light was fading. She soon fell beneath whatever hill or horizon lay beyond the narrow window and the sunbeams vanished. The fountains dimmed to plain stone and water. The shimmering pyrite turned to dull, burnished brass. The noise of the waters was still too loud for speech, and after a few moments Fili signed for them to go back into the tunnel.

Through some trick of the corners or of the soft stone, much of the noise was dampened and only a fraction of the noise could be heard past the first turning of the passage. The company retreated above the first set of stairs where they might speak with unraised voices. Fili rekindled the torch that he had dropped in his haste, but after the glorious blaze of the fountain room, the small flame seemed ghostly and faded.

"Well, it will soon be night," Fili said. "We will have few reminders of day or night as we go deeper into the mountain, but for now, I think that we should follow the example of the setting sun and rest ourselves for tomorrow's toil."

"I am tired," Betta said, but both dwarves knew that she was less tired than she pretended. Her eyes were bright and eager.

"We have found no better place to camp," Kili said. "The turning of this passage will guard the light of our fire while it burns. The walls hold in heat well enough, and if we make our camp in the angle there, we shall be better able to defend ourselves against attack than we would be on a straight path with two sides."

"That is true," Fili agreed, though he little liked the idea of trying to defend his company in the pitch dark that would surely follow the failing of their cook fire. "We will have little chance to oversleep here, also. It may take longer for the rising sun to reach the western window, but there will be a little light at least by which we might decide our next course."

He looked back toward the doorway and frowned. "I was too distracted to look for a way down from that ledge. We should go back and look around before the light is gone."

"We might still search by torchlight," Kili said. He was more interested in a fire and a hot meal than in the loud noise of an unlit waterfall.

But Fili shook his head. "There is too much water in the air to be sure of our torches. The stone was not very slippery, but I would not wish to try my footing in the dark. There would be no surviving that fall, and even if you did survive and were not sucked down into that gaping black hole, we have no means to bring you back up. No, we should at least take one last look around now when our eyes will not be dazzled, and then we might discuss our course tonight and save time in the morning."

Kili signed, but nodded his agreement; he looked at Betta. She had said nothing during their discussion. She had put down her baggage and now stood apart from them, leaning against the stone wall. Her face was turned toward the tunnel's end and the light that lay beyond it.

Fili frowned and stepped towards her, but Kili caught his arm and turned him aside so that their backs were to their guide. Fili looked at his brother in confusion.

"It will be dark tonight," Kili said, keeping his voice low.

"We have had dark nights before," Fili told him.

"Yes, but not as dark as this one promises to be. We will have no watch fire and there is no hope of even a glimmer of moonlight reaching us down here. You saw her fear after she lost her torch in the eastern passage…"

Fili glanced back over his shoulder. He had not considered what it would mean to their human guide to spend a lightless night underground. Her mind was already under strain from the weight of the quest and her long journey. He did not know whether she could battle her own fears and still keep her ears open for approaching sound. He had planned to split their night into three watches as they had done before, but if Betta could not keep her share of the watch, then one of the brothers would have to do it for her.

"After tonight, we will have no sun to tell us our time," Kili said. "We might take shorter rests more often, and you and I can keep watch more easily than our guide. We are used to the dark and the sounds of stone; Betta is not. Fili, you know that the silence underground has a way of playing tricks on your ears…"

"I know it," Fili said. "Though there will be little enough to hear with the roar of the waters so near." He shook his head, but Kili held tight to his arm and would not let go. "Alright, we will have it your way tonight. There will be time enough to decide our future watches later. For now, we must explore the shelf and chasm."

Kili nodded and walked back down the tunnel to the doorway. He passed by Betta with a soft word, and she nodded to him but did not speak. As Fili followed his brother, he hesitated and put his hand on her shoulder.

She gave a start and looked up at him. He saw did not need to see the fear in her eyes to know that his brother's suspicions were true. Betta feared the growing dark. He knew that it would be a struggle for her to endure the long night. She must either conquer her fear or be overwhelmed by it; the suffocating darkness would only grow harder to bear as they wandered farther underground. She had not the stubborn heart of a dwarf to endure such trials.

"Start a fire while we are gone," Fili said to her. "Not too large. We need only to cook our meal and warm our hands then we must conserve our wood."

She nodded, and he handed her his torch. "We must all lie near to each other tonight," he told her. "In the dark of a closed tunnel, it is important to know exactly where each member of your company lays. Much damage can be done while tripping over prone bodies in the dark."

He spoke cheerfully and believed that his words comforted her a little. She turned away from the door and set about starting the fire farther down the passage. Fili followed after his brother. There was nothing that he could do to bring them more wood or to speed the coming dawn. He was not worried that his brother would trip or loose himself in the dark, but for Betta, the night would be long and difficult. More difficult, perhaps, than all the miles that had come before it.

.

With what was left of the fading day, Fili and Kili examined the shelf and the walls around it, looking for some clue as to where their path would next lead. Their tunnel was the only one leading on or off the shelf, and the walls on either side were steep. Kili was the first to see signs of what might once have been a stone bridge spanning the breadth of the room, and Fili agreed that the broken edge seemed to suggest it. There were several openings in the wall across from them that might once have been tunnels but were now filled with water.

Kili stepped up close beside his brother and looked up at the high window. "If we had wings, we might make our escape that way," he said, speaking into his brother's ear to be heard above the noise.

"But we do not," Fili answered, "and we could not climb that steep wall without being soaked to the bone, even if we had the rope and spikes needed to attempt it."

Fili walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down once more before the light left them, but Kili returned to the back of the shelf and stood along the left hand side, examining the flecks of pyrite and other minerals in the wall. There were many fine crystals forming there and he had half a mind to take his knife to them and bring back a fair piece by way of apology to their guide. He still felt guilty for having doubted her concern for his brother.

Kili had just taken out his knife to try when he looked down and noticed something that he had not seen before.

"Fili!" he shouted over the roaring torrent.

Fili looked and seeing his brother's gesture, walked back to him. Kili pointed at the wall. Along the left hand side, the stone was broken in many places and wide fractures in cut a jagged path back and forth above and below. Near to where their shelf ended was one such path cutting almost straight across, but what was most important to their current plight was that at the end of it, almost hidden beneath an outcrop of stone, was a hole in the wall from which no water came.

"Another tunnel?" Kili said.

Fili stared hard at it. There was no way to be certain that it was any such thing, and the light was too dim to attempt the crossing now. No water fell along this side of the chasm, and the path itself was a more than a full foot wide, though it would be difficult with their baggage.

After searching long into the growing dark, Fili admitted defeat. He followed his brother back to their tunnel and, once inside where it was quiet, said, "There seems to be no other way."

"I could see none," Kili agreed.

They climbed the stairs and rejoined Betta. She had a cheerful fire burning and meat already cooked for their meal. While they ate, the brothers told her what they had seen. Fili could tell that she was not eager to cross a narrow bridge to an unknown hole in the wall, but she knew as well as he did that if there was no going forward, then they must turn back. And she refused to go back.

The fire burned for little more than an hour, but in that time they were able to cook many strips of meat and to pack them away for the next day's labor. Weighing their wood and food supplies, Fili was optimistic that they would be able to cook all the meat they had before they ran out of wood and that they would not be forced to eat raw flesh toward the end of their journey.

He did not speak his thoughts aloud, however. Kili was clever enough to work it out on his own and there was no reason to frighten Betta so early in their search with the thought that they might reach the end of her quest and still be trapped underground, that their final days might be spent cold and starving without even the spark of light for company.

The evening passed with little cheer. There was no talk of stories or of song, and soon after the meal, Kili lay down on his side and before the fire had burned out he was fast asleep in anticipation of his midnight watch.

Fili sat for a long time, staring at the dim outline of Betta's shoulders until they faded from his sight. He could hear his brother's slow and steady breath, and the familiar shuffling of his body moving even in sleep; they were sounds that Fili had been raised on, had heard every night of his life, but Betta was silent. Only now and then did he catch the faint sound of her far away sighs; she did not move and her breathing was soft. In the dark, he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. The desire to reach out his hand and find her was strong, but he resisted. He pitied her fear but knew that she was too proud to speak of it.

The fire had burned down to ash and only here and there could his sharp eyes pick out the tiny flecks of stubborn embers. The turning of the passage prevented much of the cold in the chasm from reaching them, but there was still a chill in the air from outside.

Finally, Fili could stand it no longer. He could not see her, but he had not heard her lie down. "Are you warm enough?" he asked, quietly so that he would not wake her if she had fallen asleep.

For a moment, he heard only silence, and then, "I am warmer than I have been in recent days," she said, but the chattering of her teeth gave her away. She had their only blanket, but her skin was not as thick as that of a hearty dwarf.

"Come, sit here," he said, reaching out his hand and searching in the dark for her. "For warmth," he added quickly.

Once more, silence only answered him. He imagined her frowning at him and expected a stubborn reply, but then he heard her shuffling in her seat as she moved towards him. She followed the sound of his voice and found his outstretched hand; he guided her to sit beside him and hoping that in his blind groping he had not touched anything that would offend her. She made no protest and eventually she was settled next to him in relative comfort.

Her weight was a reassuring presence against his side, and he put his arm around her shoulders. He inhaled the thick scent of her sweat-stained clothes and unwashed hair, and let out his breath in a slow sigh of relief. The dark was no strange place for a dwarf, but he was glad not to sit alone. He missed the bright lanterns and warm halls of home.

They sat in silence for some time, and Fili was content not to speak, but he guessed that Betta was not. He felt the tension in her body and knew that it was more than fear of the dark that troubled her.

"I am sorry," she said suddenly.

"For what?"

"If it were not for me, you and your brother would be already on your journey home. I delayed your setting out and now you are trapped in this tomb with me." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I am bad luck to you, I think."

He reached up and ran his hand over her hair, feeling the softness in spite of the dirt. "You did not cause the snow to fall or the roof to collapse," he assured her. "As for the rest, wait until our journey ends, then we will consider our luck. In these past few days, I have been cold and hungry and even afraid, but I have also been very happy. There is nothing unlucky in that." After a moment's thought, he added, "Would you believe me if I say that I am happy now?"

He heard her soft laugh. "You are indeed a strange folk," she said. "I thought that dwarves took pleasure only in gold and gems, but we have none of those here."

"We take pleasure in our families as well and those whom we love," he said. He felt for her hand, found it and held it. "They are more precious to us than gold." Her breath was warm against his cheek and, though it felt strange to feel and hear but not to see her, he was glad that the darkness hid his face. "I do not remember whether I have said it before, but I do love you, Betta."

She held his hand and pressed her body against his as she reached past him, wrapping the corner of her blanket around them both and then, for a moment, she was perfectly still. He wished that he could see her face to know what she thought of his confession, but then he felt something soft and warm against his mouth – a little to one side, if he were honest, but he could not fault her for aiming a kiss in the dark – then her warm cheek touched his, and she whispered in his ear, "I love you, Fili."

Betta sat down again, and soon after, Fili felt her fingers relax and heard her breathing slow as she drifted off to asleep. He was glad to hold her close and gladder still that she was not alone in this dark place, but the hopelessness of their situation chilled his heart, and he was more determined than ever to get her out from under the mountains and back into the sunlight where she belonged.

Wow. Can you believe it took this long for those two stubborn kids to say three little words? It seems a fitting chapter to post on the one year anniversary of this far too long tale.

Thank you all so much for your encouragement, it really means a lot and helps me to overcome my crippling self-doubt so I can write more chapters for you! And special thanks to Vanafindiel for asking a question that is sure to keep me up nights trying to puzzle it out ;)

Never33: Oh, stop! I'm blushing! I don't know if I can promise future stories as grand as this one. I'd like to, but I really wasn't expecting QtF to grow in to the behemoth that it has become. I'm so glad you're enjoying it.

-Paint