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!

Fili leaned his head back against the cold wall and looked up at the circle of sky high above them. It seemed to him like a small, grey eye peering through the stone with the yellow sun for a pupil. He had done all that he could to keep his hopes in check as they had approached the end of the tunnel, but the sight of yet another room and the only way out an impossible and deadly climb was too much for him. Disappointment sank his heart as the promise of freedom was snatched from his fingers.

Deep down, he reproached himself. No Dwarf should ever be so unhappy underground, but these tunnels were not home to him. They were not the high, smooth walls of Ered Luin, filled with the voices and footsteps of his kin.

Many long ages past, before the building of Khazad-dum, before Belegost was delved or any of the rest of the old Dwarf homes, Fili knew that his race had dwelt in caves worse than these, rude hovels and raw stone shaped by hand with primitive tools before they had grown wise and learned to make better. Dwarves cut the room that he stood in now, he told himself in the vain struggle to raise his hopes and courage once more.

The sun was almost straight overhead of them, but only a little light reached the floor; it was enough to drive the shadows into far corners, and a wide, bright crescent of gold shone against the wall to the right of the tunnel from which they had emerged, the last trace of the falling sun before it dropped below the lip of the well. Betta left Fili's side and stepped into the light, turning her face to the warmth. She closed her eyes and whispered a quiet thanks for the glimpse of sun and fresh air. Fili heard her words and felt guilty for indulging in his despair. If she who hated the underground could still be grateful for such a little thing, what right had he to complain?

Fili stood up straight again and threw aside regret and despair. Didn't he still have his brother? And Betta, too? Weren't they all alive and whole, less injured than they might have been? There was no denying that they had come to dire straits: their food and wood would not survive the week, but they were all three together. As the shadow passed from his eyes, he already saw that there was another tunnel across the room from theirs. Their path was not blocked; they might yet find their freedom.

"Well, let us have a look around," he said, nodding to Kili. His brother's face was grim, but it was clear that Kili was eager to explore this new chasm.

They left their baggage near the mouth of their tunnel. Betta stayed with it; she was content to stand in the soon-to-fade sunlight while it lasted, drinking up the warmth. The room was wide and round, an almost perfect circle with carefully cut walls that rose up high above their heads nearly half a mile before they gave way to the roughness of natural stone curving up and out wider above than below. The room itself was, perhaps, fifty feet across and, from the bowl-shaped stone above, Fili guessed that it had once been the floor of an ancient lake drained long ago by the turmoils of the earth. Now, all that remained of the waters was a wide, swift river that flowed from east to west through a deep channel along the northern side of the room.

The company had come into the deep well south of the river and had roughly two-thirds of the room on their side. The floor was cut from solid stone and leveled smooth, though in places there was sign of erosion that told those with the skill to read the marks that in warm weather the melt-water of the snows above ran down and filled the river until it broke its bounds and spread as far as the very mouths of the two tunnels.

Looking closely at the stone there, Fili saw that it had been cut and carved into the likeness of two doorposts and a lintel above. Near the ground, where the floodwaters would have touched it, the stone was discolored and along the edges of the embellishments clung long, stringy mold and brittle lichens, their tattered-lace lobes lying dormant until the next spring thaw watered them.

With the sun still shining on the eastern wall, and an eye for measuring the height of the well, the dwarves could easily determine that it was only a little after mid-day, but the deep room they were in would be shrouded in darkness long before the sun set on the world above.

The passage that they had followed down from the chasm of waterfalls had run mostly southeast, but the sudden turn after the steep stairs let them into this room facing west and perhaps a little north.

After examining the door that they had entered by, Fili left it. He took the torch from Kili and crossed the room to the other tunnel that he had spied upon the southwest turn of the wall. If they were to go on, that was the direction that he would have chosen. South and west would lead them back to Ered Luin. His eyes and ears open for danger, Fili entered the second passage and explored a short ways down it, hoping to find a foundation on which he might rebuild his hopes.

While his brother explored the tunnel, Kili stayed behind and searched the edge of the river's channel. The bed was deep, but the waterline was low and lay a full three feet below the ledge on which he stood. The stone there had once been cut sharp and smooth, but years of freeze and thaw, of flood and drought had worn into the rock and it was cracked in many places. To his left and right, Kili saw that the water emerged and fled through the solid stone but over it was cut low arches and shaped in similar style to the doorposts of the tunnels. In the center of the room, spanning the river in a great sweeping arc was a single, narrow bridge.

The river was too wide to jump, and the current was too swift for swimming – even if one could get down into the water and climb back out again on the other steep side. The bridge itself was less than a yard wide and had no rail or guard to aid in the crossing. It reminded Kili of the images that he had seen drawn of old bridges in Moria and Erebor, passable roads for day-to-day use but designed to be thrown down in times of trouble.

As he looked down into the river at the cold water and tremendous strength of the current, Kili could well believe that this place would be a safe enough barrier to any enemy that sought to gain entrance from the other side… but which was the other side? Which was meant to be guarded, the north or the south? Or both?

He frowned and shook his head. Whatever was the case, the water was low, but not so very low that he could not contrive a way to fill his water skin. The river was like the rest of the waters that they had found along the path, cold, but not very cold. He would not have liked to fall in.

Even as he filled his skin, he kept as far back from the brittle edge as he could manage. Afterwards, he turned his eyes to the base of the narrow bridge and examined the foundation stones there. They, too, were cracked and worn by decades of flood-waters, but only on the outer surface. The stone was solid and strong at the core, and the arch of the bridge rose high above the reach of the highest flood. There, the path was rough and would give good footing. Their boots were sturdy and they would have little risk of a fall even without the guardrail.

Looking finally across the river, Kili noted that that floor was not level. A smooth promenade only a few feet wide ran alongside the river's edge, but behind it rose up three tiers reached by five stairs each until they touched the far wall. There, again, were tunnels. One that was upon Kili's left hand seemed to be cut into darker stone; a second that stood on the right side was almost wholly blocked up by fallen stone. The northern wall was full of many wide cracks and looked as if a great giant had stood upon its other side and beat his fists against it.

Kili was just about to venture across the bridge to explore the far wall and these new tunnels when Fili emerged from the southwest passage and called him back to their makeshift camp. Betta sat on the ground now, resting. The sun had risen too high above her head.

"Well, the path there is almost a mirror of the one we followed here," Fili told them as they stood round the baggage and considered their next course. "It runs back a few feet, and then turns sharply north before rising up another steep set of stairs that I would guess are designed to bring the passage over the path of the river there, which must run beneath it. It would explain why the tunnel grew more damp as we descended. There is plenty of water here."

"The bridge is sound," Kili said, "and there is another tunnel up there." He pointed up the tiered stairs to the northwest wall. "I would say that if any path in this place were to bring us up into the open air, it would be that one, but it may only be that it joins up with your tunnel later on…"

"We must have a look, in any case," Fili said, "but I think that the southwest passage is for us. That is the direction that we wish to go."

"We wish to go south and west, yes," Kili agreed, "but if the tunnel turns north, that is not where we want to be. We may as well starve down here as freeze upon the northern wastes. We do not have food enough, or any shelter, that would bring us back over the mountains if we emerge north of them."

Fili nodded, but he was troubled by his brother's words. He knew little of the northern wastes but what rumor and whisper had told, and none of it was good.

"Are you sure that the bridge is safe?" Betta asked, looking dubiously at the cracks in the foundation.

"It is safe enough," Kili said. "As safe as the narrow bridge that we crossed before." He smiled to reassure her. "Do you doubt a Dwarf's word when it comes to stonework?"

She shook her head. "I would not dare," she said, returning his smile. But then her eyes traveled to the fallen boulders and cracked wall. "What did that, do you suppose?"

"An earthquake?" Kili said. "Or the dwarves that cut these rooms may have used machinery in their mines. There would have been many orcs in these hills during the ancient wars, and they certainly are not known for the safety of their stonecutting methods." He shrugged. "We must cross over if we wish see more."

Both Betta and Fili agreed, and Kili led the way to the bridge. He crossed first, testing the strength of it, but there was no give to the stone under his feet. It was solid and well-made. He reached the other side without trouble. Betta crossed next with Fili close behind, his hand outstretched and ready to catch her if she should stumble, but she did not and soon all three members of their company were safe on the other side.

Betta held back a moment, looking down into the river at the cold, quick waters. Here and there, a white-capped wave caught on a lip of rock or lapped the wall of the steep bank, but mostly it was smooth and misleadingly calm.

"Though we may eventually starve, at least it seems we will not die of thirst," she said. Fili took her arm and turned her away from the water. They started up the western side of the stairs.

The floor here was level and solid like the one on the other side, but the cap of each tier had been laid with interlocking flagstones, close cut and of many fair shades of grey and blue. They were much faded, but the affect was still beautiful to the eyes of those used to dark tunnels and blank walls. It was a jarring change from the simple caves above, but Fili felt more at home on this side of the river, surrounded by the work of dwarvish hands – however primitive and strange.

They reached the top of the stairs and looked across at the fallen stone and blocked passage on the eastern side. There would be no going that way, even if they were willing to risk the cracked walls and unsupported roof of the tunnel. Kili shook his head and even his curiosity ended there, though he narrowed his eyes and looked closely at the carved doorposts.

"There is a rune upon the lintel there," he said, "but a crack runs through it and I cannot read it."

"Neither can I," Fili said, "but I can read that one."

He pointed to the carved lintel over the western door. Kili turned to look, and his mouth fell open in surprise. The deep cut rune was barely visible, being almost obscured by black soot, the remains of an ancient conflagration. All around the mouth of the tunnel and across the threshold, the stone was black and spider-webbed with hairline fractures. A powerful heat must have blown down that passage to crack the stone that way; it seemed to have occurred about the same time as the upheaval that had broken down the northeast wall.

Kili stood staring, wondering whether it were not this same disaster that had thrown down the bridge over the chasm of the falls and rerouted the waters there. Kili stood wondering, but Fili strode forward and with only a little hesitation placed his hand against the stone. It was cold to the touch. The soot had stained into the stone and none came away on his glove; whatever fire had burned here, it had been long ago extinguished.

Fili looked back at his brother, and Kili shrugged. He took out a fresh torch.

"Well, what does the rune say?" Betta asked, breaking in on them impatiently. "Or will you two continue to speak in looks and nods that I cannot understand?"

Fili hesitated, but Kili answered her. "It is a Dwarf sign like one we use at Ered Luin," he explained. "It means…"

"Nothing that is of any use," Fili interrupted. "The southwest passage is for us. This blackened stone is a warning."

Kili and Betta both frowned at him, and Kili shook his head. "It does not say anything as you would read it," he told Betta, "but is a rune like one that we use to mark the path to a great hall or throne room in any Dwarf Home so that visitors who are not used to our winding ways will not lose themselves. Although Thorin does not technically have a throne room – not wanting to call himself king while his people scratch their living from the plain stone – there is a rune like that one upon the doors to the main hall where our uncle holds his feasts and receives envoys from other Dwarf kingdoms."

"Did you not say before that if we found the great hall of this dwarf realm, we might find a way out through it?" Betta asked Fili.

He relented under her cold stare. "I did," he conceded, "but I do not like the look of this burnt stone, and that side of the wall is broken. It is not safe."

"It is not safe, or the southwest passage is safer?" Betta said, knowing his preference. "However we decide, I will have a look in here. Give me a torch."

She looked at Kili, who looked to his brother. Fili nodded. "We will look, but I do not like it, and we should not linger long in any place when there are orcs about." He meant it as a threat to hurry them, but neither Betta nor Kili bought it.

Kili lit the torch and handed it to her, and Betta entered first, but with the dwarves close behind. The walls and ceiling of the tunnel were blackened and smooth, their rough edges melted by the heat that must have come down through them.

"Fire may have blackened this stone," Kili said, touching the wall, "but I would bet gold that this was done by steam. It is like the walls under the hotsprings of Ered Luin…"

Fili agreed, but said nothing. He walked along sullenly behind the other two members of his company, refusing to be swayed from his chosen path.

They had gone only a little ways down the tunnel when Betta stopped short with a gasp and stared down at the floor. Kili stepped up beside her to see what was there, but Fili knew without looking what she had found. His heart, which had already fallen so low on this journey, seemed to plummet to the floor at his feet, and he felt his chest tightening with dread.

There, on the floor of the tunnel, cut into stone and half filled with soot and dust, was the mark of Betta's tattoo. The light from their torch danced angrily over the design, and Fili scowled. Did he not have troubles enough without that mark returning to haunt him?

"I cannot believe…" Kili said, then shook his head, unable to find the words to express his astonishment. He crouched down and passed his hand over the mark, then looked up at his brother with a grin. "It seems that we have not wholly left behind the dwellings of Men."

"We have left them," Fili insisted. "We do not know what that mark means. Anyone could have cut it."

Kili frowned at his brother's anger and stood up again, but Betta said nothing. She stood stock still, her body tensed tight as a bowstring, as she looked down at the mark. Her face was ashen and her hands shook so badly that Kili took the torch from her, afraid that she would shake the fire right off the end of it.

Fili crossed his arms stubbornly. "I suppose that you will say now that we must go this way, that it is a sign of your quest and we must go on," he said.

To his surprise, she shook her head. "No, I will not say that," she answered quietly. "I will hold to my word. We are looking for a way out of these hills, not for treasure or answers to any questions of mine."

She sighed and shook her head again, and when she next spoke, her voice was firm and angry. "I still believe what Kili said before, that this path will rise and is more likely to lead us up and out. The rune upon the door reads clear enough to me, but this mark means that I must now bite my tongue and keep my thoughts to myself. If I speak for the northern path, you will think that I am arguing for the quest that I have reluctantly abandoned. I will go the way that you choose."

Fili stared at her and was tempted to agree to her choice if it would make her happy, but his mind was made up and even more than before he did not like the northern way. He wanted as far from Betta's quest as he could get, and not even the advice of both members of his company could convince him to walk that path again.

"South and west is the way that we will go," he said, "and we must hurry if we do not wish to outlast our supplies." He nodded to Kili and then walked out of the tunnel.

Kili sighed as he watched his brother go. "I will argue with him for you if you would like," he told Betta.

"No. Let him decide," she said. "I am defeated."

She followed after Fili, leaving Kili behind. He did not like the words she said or the look on her face as she said them, but he deemed it only the effect of long captivity and the lack of sunlight that a human needed more than any dwarf.

They made their way down the tiered stairs again and back over the bridge. In his heart, Kili was reluctant to go the way that his brother chose. The soot-blackened door worried him, certainly, but he could not deny that the dwarf rune upon the lintel seemed to point them in that direction.

"What do we know of the southwest tunnel?" he asked as the put their baggage on again. "There are no marks upon that door. It might just as easily lead us back up to the troll's cavern again, or down another long road into the dark."

"It is the way that I have chosen," Fili said.

Kili sighed and gave in. As far as he was concerned, they may as well flip a coin for all the choice that they had in this. Both paths could lead to freedom or danger equally, and the only other door open to them was to go back the way that they had come. He wished that Betta would have fought for her choice. With two of them against his brother, he knew they could win, but she would not and he could not; they would follow Fili into the southwest tunnel.

Kili still carried Betta's old pack, though it was lighter now and held all of their cooked meat. Fili had taken the logs from Betta's load, giving her the lighter sack of raw meat and their bundle of dry torches. He had not missed the fact that while they were reshuffling their supplies, she had taken from under her shirt the old scrap of spare leather on which Kili had carved the design of her tattoo. She had not looked at it, however, and only folded it and tucked it into the leather envelope where she carried the old map, and both she put into the pocket of the pack. For a moment, her hands lingered there as if she would have taken them back again, but in the end she gave them up. The quest was over and when she looked back at Fili with guilt in her eyes, he pretended not to have seen what she had done but he was glad.

Fili walked first into the tunnel with Kili next and Betta last. She looked back only once into the lighted room and up at the blackened door and then followed the others back into the darkness.

The passage was exactly as Fili had described it to them, a mirror to the one that they had followed down. He turned the sharp corner and strode confidently up to the stairs, but then he hesitated. It had been a hard climb to bring them down to the bottom of the last set, and it would be an even harder climb up these that were just as steep. He had been too caught up in his arguments and too eager to win his own way to give thought to the obstacle in their path.

"Kili, we will be needing the rope again," he said, turning to his brother.

Before Kili could reply, an ear-piercing cry tore through the air above them, amplified by the close confines of the tunnel. It came from up the stairs, beyond the reach of their torch's light, but was quickly followed by a great, black shape leaping down upon them. It landed on Kili's back, knocking him to the floor. An orc imp, half-naked and with a vicious curved blade in its hand, wrapped its fingers tight around Kili's neck and thrust the blade downwards, but Fili had been warned by the orc's shout, and before the blade sank through his brother's back, he had drawn and swung both swords that he had. With one, he cut the orcs knife-hand off at the wrist while the other separated head from body of the foul creature, and it fell down dead.

What remained of the orc collapsed onto Kili, knocking the breath from his lungs, but Fili was quick to roll to body off of his brother and pull him to his feet.

"A scout," Fili said as Kili rubbed the mark on his throat where the strong fingers had gripped him. "Where there is one, there will be more."

Cross your fingers for our adventurers, the next battle will be a doozy. And maybe send a little luck my way. I'm having a heck of a time choreographing the darn thing.

-Paint