Kili stood just outside the Lossoth camp, and just within the circle of smoldering watch fires, watching the sun rise. After all their adventures, all the fights and falls that he had suffered in the past five weeks, he had been more than a little amazed to find that his pipe was still whole and unbroken; a little worn about the edges, but not a crack or scratch upon it.

It seemed to make the ordeal a little more bearable to have that one, small comfort of home spared to him. Of course, he had had to beg a few leaves off of Ix for the smoking – his own pouch had long ago been used up. The tobacco of the Lossoth was not the hearty leaf of Ered Luin; It tasted a bit off and the smoke was a dubious shade of blue that was too thin to blow into a proper smoke-ring, but all in all, not too bad.

Kili smoked and frowned and thought on the long, strange night that he had passed with Ix while Fili was safely tucked away somewhere… presumably, in Betta's arms.

Once the Chief had explained to him all that had passed, how Betta had been found and the difficult choices that had been made to save her life, Kili had understood the caution that Ix had taken with their weapons and with himself. It was hard blow to take, to hear that Betta's whole hand was gone, and he knew that his brother would only take it harder. In his heart, Kili thought that it would have been easier had the Lossoth broken the news to Fili slowly and given him time to prepare himself, but that sort of gentle treatment did not come easy to these people and, in any case, was the sort of thing best done by a friend or relative, not a stranger of a different race.

Kili sighed. He was content to trust the Chief. The man seemed to have a solid head on his shoulders, and he had had many things to say last night that Kili found very interesting. He turned to look over his shoulder at the hills of Angmar. They seemed less ominous in the bright light of the growing dawn, but he knew better. Only a fool would go back into that haunted land…

His stomach grumbled, interrupting his thoughts, and he felt more than a little annoyed with his brother. Ix had offered him a late dinner the night before, but he had refused thinking that Fili would return and that they would eat together. When Fili did not return, Kili had gone to bed hungry. No morning meal had been offered to him yet, and he had not thought to ask until after Ix left him to attend to other duties. Near to where he stood, several grim-faced hunters walked about the camp, performing their early-morning chores, but Kili hesitated to stop one of them. He could imagine how foolish he would look trying to make himself understood without knowing their language.

Turning his attention back to the bright sunrise, he counted on his fingers the many complaints that he would have for his brother once Fili finally appeared. One: he had gone to bed hungry. Two: he had been forced to take a scowling healer's word for it where his brother slept that night. Three: he had had to sleep himself in the Chief's hut – which was meant as an honor, certainly, and would have been had it not also meant sleeping tucked between the sullen Orn and another large, frowning Man.

Kili sighed. "Four…" he muttered. He had not yet seen Betta. Fili may have had first claim to her, but she was still Kili's friend, and he had a choice to make soon: how far that friendship and duty to his brother would take him. He believed the Lossoth Chief when he said that Betta was alive and safe, but still, he wished to see her for himself and measure her health with his own eyes.

The sun's stern crested the horizon, and she began her long voyage across the blue sky. Kili lowered his gaze to the wide, flat plains of Forodwaith. It was a sight that he hoped never to see again, but he looked long and hard at it, etching the desolate emptiness into his memory. What right had he to complain about the steep, rocky path through the hills? He would more gladly take the mountain road than walk across that cold, empty land where any enemy eye might see you from miles away, where you were alone and unprotected without the shelter of hill or stone.

He shivered at the thought and turned his back on the plains, walking back into the camp.

Nearly all the Lossoth had woken by now and were hard at work outside their huts. Kili was surprised to find far fewer of them than he had guessed last night. Then, he had counted more than thirty; now, he wondered whether there were thirty in all. Most were gathered around the largest fire in the center of the camp. The flames had been built up after the cold night and a great spit hung there with the skewered carcass of a large, four-legged beast that Kili did not recognize. The scent of roasting meat made his mouth water, but the hunters took little notice of the hungry Dwarf in their midst. At most, he earned one or two curious looks. The Chief had given him a hood of animal skins to mark him as a guest and no longer a stranger, but it seemed it had not been made to invite conversation.

Kili wandered his way around the camp, watching the hunters at their chores and trying to distract himself from his hungry thoughts. The day was already proving to be warmer than he expected to find upon the Forodwaith. Many of the Lossoth had already left off their heaviest coats and Kili was amazed to see that some of the larger Men had even gone so far as to roll up their shirtsleeves and bare their arms to what he thought was a frigid wind. One man stood at a low board and was skinning the tough hide from what Kili guessed was a northern elk. The man's broad, brown forearms were roped with muscle and shown with sweat, testament to the hard labor that he performed; Kili felt very soft and pale by comparison. He might yet wield an axe as well as any Dwarf, but he had suffered long in the high hills with his brother.

What would Thorin think to see his two, strong-armed nephews wasting away and covered with aching bruises? How soon would they be expected to set out for Erebor after returning finally to Ered Luin? Surely Thorin would allow them some time to rest from their weary journey…

"Senniagut," a quiet voice spoke behind him.

Kili turned to look then quickly stepped aside. He had not realized that he had stopped walking and stood exactly in the way of the entrance to one of the many small huts. A Lossoth hunter stepped out and passed him by with only a brief nod of acknowledgement, but Kili was too busy to notice. He frowned and stared after the… man? If he did not know better, he would have said that this hunter was not a man but a woman of the tall folk. Certainly, he seemed smaller than the others that Kili had seen, but with so many thick layers to hide their bodies, half the camp might have been women and Kili would not have known it. They all wore their hair long and braided, and even the ruddiness of their weather-worn faces seemed designed to deceive.

Kili laughed at his own surprise. Dwarf-women were commonly mistaken for Dwarf-men when they left their mountain homes – and the Dwarf-men were careful to maintain the deception (even going so far as to say, when pressed, that their women never left home) – but it felt strange to be on the other side of that mystery, not knowing which of the Men were indeed men.

"Aimerpok."

He turned around again. This time, he was not at all surprised to find one of the hunters looking down at him. This one did not ask him to move but held out a clay bowl full of meat and broth with a lump of what appeared to be hard bread soaking in the middle.

Kili accepted the food, gratefully. "Thank you," he said, bowing, but he looked closely at the hunter's face and form and decided that this one, at least, was definitely male. The hunter only stared at him blankly and then pointed across the camp.

Kili followed the man's arm and saw the old healer from the night before standing a short distance away beside a painted hut. Fili was also there and though he, too, held a bowl of breakfast, he seemed less interested in eating than in questioning Elm.

Glad to see his brother again, and to finally find a familiar Lossoth face, Kili hurried toward them and arrived in time to catch the tail end of his brother's argument.

"… I understand the need," Fili was saying, "and I thank you for all that you have done, but I am here now and I will care for her. I'll not stop you from treating your patient, but there is no reason why I cannot help here. I have changed many bandages before."

Elm shook his head and crossed his arm. His expression was a mix of indignation and anger as he spoke long and heatedly in the Lossoth tongue. Kili could catch none of it except that every so often, he spit out very vehemently, "No, no!" and stomped his foot. He stood between Fili and the entrance to the painted hut which seemed to be where the battle line had been drawn.

Kili saw the frustration on his brother's face, and interrupted before Fili could begin shouting. "Fili," he said, "do not argue with them. They cannot understand you."

Fili scowled and pointed at Elm. "He understands me very well," he said angrily. "He may try to play the foolish, old man as that blasted Throin does down in the mines, but I will not be fooled. He speaks the Westron as well as you or I!"

Fili stomped his own foot for good measure and glared at the healer, but Elm only shook his head and repeated, "No, no!"

"I am sure that my friend does not try to fool you," a gentle voice said suddenly. Kili looked up to see Ix approaching them from behind one of the nearby racks of tanned hide. The Chief smiled politely, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes that suggested he had been listening to the argument for some time before interrupting.

Ix bowed to Fili and put his hand on Elm's shoulder. "I assure you that, in this, you will not win your way. Elm knows his trade and has wielded the needle and thread for many long years."

He spoke then to Elm in the northern tongue, and the healer answered him briefly and then smiled triumphantly at Fili before ducking back into the painted hut. From the movements inside, Kili guessed that he had fastened down the blanket over the entrance; it would not withstand a determined Dwarf, but the gesture was its own retort. Ix shook his head, but his smile was fond and told of the long friendship between the men.

"Well, what does he say?" Fili demanded, refusing to be put off. "He refused to speak his reasons to me."

Ix's good humor was more than a little tested by his guest's bad manners. "Say rather that he would not speak them to you in your own speech, for his reasons were stated plainly enough to those who know how to listen." He shook his head and with a firm hand on each Dwarf's shoulder, moved them away from the hut's entrance. Kili was surprised at the great strength that was in the Chief's hand; in body, Ix was much smaller than many of his hunters, but he moved the reluctant Dwarves with ease.

"Please, do not argue with my people," Ix said firmly. "They are not used to strangers and you and your companions must live among us for some long time yet."

Fili looked away, sulking, but repentant of his anger. "I apologize, Chief Ix," he said, bowing low to the ground. "I did not mean to offend you or your healer, but what reason could he possibly have to prevent me from caring for my own, my… friend."

Kili raised an eyebrow, but he was not surprised that, now that Betta was returned to them and his words might reach her ears, Fili would balk at calling her his wife without her permission.

Ix saw Kili's surprise and smiled. "Your friend?" he said, slowly. "Is that the word used among your folk? Well, my people have their own words, and a saying which in the southern speech I think would say, 'A wife may heal her husband, but a husband should not heal his wife if he wishes to be happy.'"

Kili frowned, and Fili shook his head. "I do not understand it," he said. "I have treated Betta's wounds before."

"In the hills, when no other healer was at hand," Ix explained, and he shrugged. "Whether you would understand it or no, it is a true thing. In this, our wives are stronger than us, and you should be glad that you are not yet troubled by the sight of your friend in pain. Eat well."

With that, Ix nodded to them each in turn and left them, walking toward the large fire where a group of hunters were arguing heatedly over how best to butcher what seemed to be a large side of bear. Kili watched the man leave. He was not at all surprised to see that, as soon as the Chief approached them, the hunters laid aside their argument and spoke politely to each other once more. Ix seemed to have that effect on people.

"What was that?" Fili asked, interrupting his brother's thoughts.

"What was what?" Kili asked. He turned back to his brother quickly and put on a bland expression.

"What was the look he gave you?" Fili looked hard at his brother's face, searching for an answer. "Have you been speaking behind my back, brother?" His face was stern, but his words were light, and curious.

Kili laughed. "You are too tired to see straight," he said. "There was no look to see. Always you must go arguing with everyone we meet upon the road. First the Ranger, now the healer…" Kili's smile was broad, but he watched Fili anxiously and was relieved when his brother shook his head and did not press for answers.

Eager to change the subject, Kili shook his finger at Fili, "If I did not know better, I would say that you have staged this fight to distract me," he said. "Do not think that I have forgotten how you forgot me last night! And where is our guide? It is high time that I had my own reunion with Betta. You had her all to yourself last night and I'm sure you never once thought of your poor brother."

Fili laughed and shook his head. "Eat your breakfast, Kili," he said. "Betta is in the hut behind us, but if Elm will not allow me in there, he certainly will not let you in. Not until he has finished dressing the… bandaging the wound on her…"

Kili put his hand on Fili's shoulder. "Ix told me what was done," he said gently. "Sit down, brother. You are tired."

They sat upon the woven mat that was laid beside the door to Elm's hut and ate their meal in silence; the stew had grown cold from the cold air, but it was still a better breakfast than they had had in many days. Afterwards, they set their bowls aside and spoke together quietly. Kili told a little of his conversation with Ix after Fili had left them the night before. He told what had been said of Betta and how he had been given a bed in the Chief's own hut after Elm returned to say that Fili would not be rejoining them that night.

There was only one thing that Ix had told him which Kili kept to himself, but that one thing he guarded carefully and gave no hint of it to Fili. He had not yet decided his own thoughts on the matter and it would do little good to trouble his brother's already troubled heart. He did not keep quiet, however, regarding his feelings when he found out that he must share a room not with his brother but with the sullen Orn and two other men of the tall folk.

"When we finally do make it back to Ered Luin, this part of our journey I will not be telling to Thorin. What would he say to hear that you left his youngest nephew unprotected in the company of Men!?"

Fili laughed at his brother's complaints. "I suppose an apology will not remove the indignity that you have suffered, Kili," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes, "be satisfied that it was all done for Betta. I could not have left her for a mountain of treasure and certainly not merely to save you from sleeping safely alongside a few tall Men. You really must learn to take care of yourself!"

"That is true," Kili said, with greater solemnity that Fili expected, but before he could ask, Kili spoke up again. "How is Betta?" he asked. "Ix told me of her physical wounds, but his words seemed to suggest that there is some deeper sickness that troubles her. There is some infection…?"

"No, nothing so simple as that," Fili said. "She has lost her hand and all the strength that went with it. She is no fool. She knows the truth: she can no longer wander alone though the wild lands, hunting for herself. She cannot shoot her bow."

"That is hard for any hunter," Kili said.

Fili nodded. "Perhaps, one day, she might learn to wield her knife with her left hand… certainly she has grown stronger on that side since the orc cut her arm above Evendim, but still…" He hung his head. "I try to give her hope, but she will not have it. She does not forget that there is yet another quest ahead of us that will take from her her only friends and leave her alone in the world. How do you heal that sickness? She can no longer rely only on herself for her safety and survival, and she has no one else…"

"I do not doubt that she will find a way," Kili said. He was troubled in his heart and frowned. "It would have been better had we found her father's treasure in the hills. We might have given her some security out of that…"

"We might," Fili agreed, "and we would have done, but there is no treasure and the few coins that we found will not last long. We will give them to her, of course, and I hope to find time to cut the raw gems and give her the profits from them also. I do not doubt that Nan and Gilon will look after her for my sake, but they have little enough money to spare for their own needs…"

"That is true," Kili agreed.

"I will find some better help for her, somehow," Fili said more firmly. "If I must smuggle gold from Thorin's treasury, I will do it!"

"Fili!" Kili stared at his brother. Occasionally, a Dwarf might take to thieving from the tall folk, and from the Elves whenever the chance was given, but to even consider stealing gold from their own kin was beneath all that he expected of his brother. "Fili, you could not…"

He sighed. "No, I suppose I could not. If she were a dwarf-woman, our people would do right by her, but she is human. They will shun her and leave her to starve." He buried his face in his arms.

Kili put his arm around his brother's shoulders, but his face was turned back toward the hills. His mind had been made up for him, but Fili must not know.

Fili sat for some time, struggling with his grief, but eventually he looked up and put on a smile for his brother. "In any case, I do not see why they will not let me do what little I can now to help her. Elm understood me well enough before Betta woke, but once it came time to change her bandages, he said I must leave. It was only when I argued that he pretended not to speak the Westron."

"Ix seemed to think that he was justified…" Kili said.

Fili raised an eyebrow. "I am surprised that you so easily take the word of a Man who tells you how to look after your own. As you often point out, Betta is your friend."

"She is," Kili agreed, "and, if she were not, she would still be the woman my brother loves. But I did not say that I take Ix's word for the healer's actions. I do see Elm's point. It may be their culture, but think, Fili, do you truly wish to see the damage done to her? You have wrapped her bandages before, but that was a small knife wound and a few bruises. I would not like to see…" He shook his head, refusing to imagine the mutilated flesh and swollen stitches of her amputated arm.

Fili frowned and saw before his eyes the many scrapes and bruises that he had already seen across Betta's naked back and shoulders. He remembered how she had almost ordered him away when his grief and anger grew too loud and uncontrolled. "Perhaps the Lossoth have some wisdom in their saying after all," he said. "Betta would not flinch to clean any number of grievous wounds inflicted upon my person. She would care for me and cry her tears in secret far away, but my hand trembled even to touch the bruises on her shoulder. She suffers enough without bearing the weight of my grief as well as her own."

Kili pulled his brother close. "She is alive," he said. "In time, she will see that it is a good thing. Men and Dwarves have lived long and happy lives after the loss of a limb. Think of cousin Bifur! Compared to him, Betta's wounded arm is such a little thing!"

"There is no bound to your good cheer, brother," Fili said, resting his head on Kili's shoulder. "I only wish I had the means to take care of her after we must leave for Erebor. And if I should not return from that lonely mountain…"

Kili bit his tongue. After their adventure in the north, they had learned that there was indeed a chance in any adventure that one might not make it back alive. What would become of Betta then if she were left without her friends and without any money to provide for her infirmity?

He knew what the answer must be, but before he could be tempted to tell it to his brother, Elm emerged from the hut and with a victorious gleam in his eyes, he made it clear that they might enter.

Betta's smile brightened every corner of the dark room when she saw that Kili was there with his brother. Kili was struck by her seeming frailty, and he struggled not to stare at the blunt end of the bandages wrapped around her right arm. She ordered him immediately to sit and tell her their whole journey over again after the orc's attack.

Kili hesitated to relive that terrible battle, but Betta's eagerness soon loosened his tongue. He saw the sorrow that she hid behind her easy laughter and smiles, but he spoke lightly and was mindful of his brother's earnest looks. Though he told an animated tale, Betta was, more often than not, half-asleep as he spoke. She was too weak and it would take very little to knock the life from her. And still, they had the long road west upon the dog-sleds of the Lossoth to the village near Forochel.

No, better not to think on that yet, Kili told himself. He had another journey to make, smaller and with little risk but of far greater importance to Betta should she live long enough to return to Ered Luin.

Those of you who were with us this time last year will remember that now is the time for your author, like the dutiful little hobbit she is, to get busy in her garden. Also, work has been crazy and since I do most of my draft writing there, it's been harder to get things ready for posting.

Sorry for the long delays between chapters, but I promise I won't forget you. Please, don't forget me :) Review!

-Paint