It was colder in the shade of the mountain, the late autumn air seemed to swirl about it. The morning was spent scrambling over rocks which jutted jaggedly out of the mountain's base, the company taking caution not to slip on the patches of ice and snow that clung to them. As they continued upwards, Fili turned back to look at the Long Lake stretching away from the them and towards the Horizon, he couldn't see Laketown at all now, whether it was due to the distance or the fog, he couldn't tell. But either way, they were faraway from anyone. He wrapped the too-big coat tighter around him as a gust of wind blew through them. He craned his neck to look towards the Mountain's summit – which still seemed so far away – at the clouds swirling around it. The Lonely Mountain, an accurate name, Fili thought to himself. He huffed and continued on.

Thorin lead the company up ahead, his mind firmly focused on the mountain. All other thoughts were gone. He was so close. At last. It had been too long, but finally, finally, he was here. He could feel the key in his pocket, he could feel it burning though the scratchy fabric of his coat, whispering to him as he continued up the ever-steepening incline. He didn't feel the bitter cold air, only the determination in his gut. But he knew that the mountain was not won yet, there may very well be a dragon lingering within the walls of Erebor, unseen, asleep. The same dragon who had forced his people from the mountain in the first place, who had flushed them from their home and taken it as his own. This time, however, it would be Thorin who did the taking.

But, there was another danger, a new danger, one that was perhaps more potent than Smaug. A dragon could be slain, could the Necromancer? If Thorin were to drive his sword through his chest, through his heart, would he fall? As he walked, he curled his fists tightly at his sides. He felt an anger in his chest, this could have been prevented. They could have thwarted the Necromancer's plan before it managed to take hold, if they hadn't delayed the correct action. They should have done it, the Necromancer had told them what to do, I know you're rather fond of that mountain of yours, he had said, but tell me, what is it that you are more fond of, Erebor or Kili? Would you kill Kili to protect your kingdom? They should have done it, he knew that now. Kili had known it then, when he had asked, when he had begged them. A part of Thorin had known then, too, a part of him that he'd tried to ignore, but a part of him that had kept screaming. Thorin sighed and continued forward. If he could go back to that morning beside the river, he would do it. It had been the only way.

Near the back of the company, Fili too was considering this. Since he had awoken in the Master's house, the memory of the Necromancer's hollow black eyes staring at him and his promise to make Kili's existence a misery, had plagued his mind and kept him awake at night. The Necromancer's words rattled and echoed in his head. Kilis words too. Then go, leave me with that dagger and I'll do it myself. Fili ran a hand through his hair. But if Gandalf isn't there or if … the Necromancer starts to come back, you leave me, you here? You leave me, you finish me, or I do it myself. If this plan of yours doesn't work then it ends. You have to stop and let me go. Promise me. The blonde shook his head, in an attempt to banish the words from his mind. Yet, still they rattled. He felt a heaviness in his heart. Had he doomed his little brother to an eternity of suffering? Long after Fili himself had died, Kili would remain, for centuries perhaps, a witness to ruin and death, all by his hand. Would it have been kinder to have listened to Kili? Had Fili been selfish? His brother was his one weakness, everybody knew it, and the Necromancer knew it too. You cannot harm me without harming your precious little brother. Have you got that in you, Fili? Could you bring more pain to him? The Necromancer had asked with knowing eyes. Yes, Fili had been selfish. He could not do as his brother had wished, had begged, because he knew the pain in his heart would be unbearable. But what of Kili's pain? What would centuries as the Necromancer's puppet do to his soul? It had been a week since the Necromancer took him for good. Was Kili's soul already being warped and blackened?

"You alright, Fili?" He heard a quiet voice, like a mouse, say from beside him. A hand wrapped itself around his elbow. Only then did Fili realise he had stopped walking. He turned his head to see Ori, his friend's brown eyes looking at him softly. Fili sighed.

"Was I selfish, Ori?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kili begged us, didn't he? To leave him behind or … or …" Fili couldn't bring himself to say it, "But I didn't listen and now he's …" he growled irritably, "If I'd just listened to him!"

"You tired your best, Fili."

"Did I?" Fili replied sceptically, raising his eyebrows imploringly at the other dwarf. Ori sighed.

"You wanted to believe that you could find a way to help him, we all did. You weren't ready to give up." He glanced up the hill and shrugged, "I'm sure my older brothers would do the same, and I'm sure Kili would have done the same thing, too, if it was the other way around." Fili narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at this. Would Kili had done the same thing? A part of him was positive that he would have, Kili would have fought just as much as Fili did to make everything alright. But another part of him wondered if Kili would have listened. If Fili had been the one with the Necromancer in his head and he had begged, would Kili had listened? His younger brother might have been headstrong and stubborn, but he knew when it was time to listen. Fili sighed. "Perhaps."

"Who knows," Ori shrugged, "it might work out yet." Fili stared at him and scoffed. "I feel," Ori continued, "like life can only take so much before it gives something back."

"No, I don't think so, Ori. Kili is lost, I don't think I'll ever get him back, not this time. And life is going to keep taking." Fili gestured to the mountain, "it'll take all this. The Necromancer will take all this. Which means everything, this whole damned journey, was for nothing. Actually," he said with a grim look on his face, "it's probably made everything worse. People are going to die, Ori, if we hadn't come on this journey, the orcs would never have got Kili, the Necromancer would never have got Kili and …" Fili sighed, "what have we done?" Ori blinked at him but said nothing. We've doomed Middle Earth.

"Oy, Lads!" Dwalin called from near the front of the line, "Keep up!" Fili sighed and trudged on, Ori watching him with an uneasy feeling in his gut.


Azog rested his hands on his hips, and grinned a victorious smile. He watched the Necromancer as he studied the legions of orcs and their wargs, all lined up and snarling. He remembered when he had first captured that dwarfling, all those weeks ago. Remembered how it felt to burn him and beat him, to bring the lash down on his back and watch the blood well and pour down his bare flesh. The nephew of Thorin Oakenshield had squirmed and screamed and now the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield will turn the filthy dwarf king's Kingdom to rubble. He felt a great satisfaction. Azog grunted. He let his arms fall to his sides and walked to stand beside his Master.

"You still promise me Oakenshiled's head?" He asked. The Necromancer regarded him with narrow black eyes.

"He's yours." He nodded. Thorin was just one of many ants he would crush, he did not matter to him. The sides of Azog's mouth pulled upwards, his sharp teeth dull in the dim light of Dol Guldur. "But …" the Necromancer tapped the side of his head, "let's make sure the little dwarfling can see you do it," he smiled, his face twisting sadistically. He and Azog laughed cruelly, the pale orc looked into the Necromancer's dark eyes, wondering if the boy could see him. He hoped so, he wanted him to see him remove his uncle's head from his shoulders – just like he should have on that cliff before the dwarfling got in the way. He wanted Kili to see how useless his efforts had been. He folded his arms over his chest, smiling with the thought, as the Necromancer continued observing their forces. His master seemed displeased. "We need more," he said, with his double-layered voice. It had surprised him, at first, that he could still hear the dwarf's voice. "Our army must be bigger." His master turned to him and he nodded. They would have the largest army in Middle Earth, worthy enough of the Necromancer. Azog smiled.


"Is…is that Dale?" Bilbo asked, looking across at the ruined city, at the broken and smashed buildings clustered at the foot of The Lonely Mountain, the mist that swirled about them made it seem as though the place was still smouldering from Smaug's fire all those years ago. It made a chill run up Bilbo's spine.

"It was," Thorin said flatly. Bilbo glanced at him, at Thorin's tired blue eyes, knowing he was seeing Dale as it had used to be, before Smaug came. The hobbit wished he could have seen it, from what stories he had been told it had been full of life, a vibrant hub of activity with prosperous markets. Now it was a cold, lonely looking place. It was much like a skeleton. The hobbit felt sadness in his heart for all that had been lost. It was strange to mourn something you had never known or seen. Bilbo rolled his shoulders and looked at the dwarves lined up beside him, all staring at what remained of Dale. Those who remembered the City wore the same look of sadness and remembrance as Thorin did, even Dwalin's stiff posture had slumped. Those who did not remember Dale as it used to be, those who, like Bilbo, was seeing it for the same time, wore the same expression of awe as the hobbit.

Down the line, Fili stared across at Dale's skeleton-like structures, even from this distance he could feel the cold coming from the ruined stones. His mother and uncle had told him many stories of the place, but now, looking at what was left, it was hard to imagine it as a warm, lively city. He frowned and pulled his borrowed coat tighter around him. Kili would have like to have seen this, he thought. Fili's eyes fell to rock beneath his feet. This was the first moment he realised he was stood on the overlook. An all too familiar feelings of grief and guilt squeezed their cold hands around his gut, making him ache. This was the place they were supposed to meet Gandalf, this was the place where his brother was supposed to saved, to be freed. That had been what Fili promised him, "we are going to find Gandalf, we know where he's going to be. It'll be alright, you'll see." He sighed and looked back up from the ground, he could not bear to look at it.

"We must go," came his uncle's voice, "we have to find the door before sunset." Fili looked up at the mountain, at its rocks and crevices and cliffs. One singular door would not be easy to find.

-0-0-0-

And many hours later, Fili was proven correct. It felt as though the company had walked around the base of the mountain ten times, and yet nobody had spotted the door, and the sun was beginning to lower. Fili's eyes ached from studying the rocks, he rubbed them before pinching the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh.

"Either this door is very small," Ori said, coming to stand beside him, resting his hands on his hips, "or it's invisible." Fili shrugged and looked about at the rest of the company, all scattered about in their search.

"Anything?!" He heard Thorin call, planting his sword in the ground.

"Nothing!" Dwalin shouted back from upon a ridge. Both looked tired and frustrated.

"If the map is true, then the hidden door lies directly above us." Thorin said, looking up from the map in his hand and letting his eyes scan the rocks above him once more. Though, it was only rocks it seemed he could see, no sign of a door grabbed his attention. A breeze picked up the edges of the parchment in his hands, causing them to flap. It was one of the only sounds, save the movement of stones as the company walked over them and a thin waterfall which dropped from one of the cliffs, at this lonely place.

"Up here!" Bilbo called, the company span to face him. They rushed to join him, eager to see what he had discovered. Carved into the side of the mountain was the huge form of a dwarf, dressed in a crown of stone and wielding great battle axe. Beside him, a staircase advanced up the mountainside. So tall was the structure that the top of it could not be seen, and it made the company's necks ache just to try.

"You have keen eyes, Master Baggins." Thorin grinned. And so began the climb.

Scaling the huge stone figure did not take long, but the bones of the company soon began to ache and the air grew colder with each step. Fili could not help but glance down as they crossed the length of the axe. The ground seemed miles below him. Not that Fili was afraid of heights – he was used to climbing trees and cliffs back in the Blue Mountains with his brother – but he felt his gut lurch a little. One false step, one large gust of wind, and he could tumble. He looked up and straightened his back, and, sucking in a deep breath, continued on. He made a note not to look down again. Once across, the company scrambled up the stone dwarf's beard, using the braids in his hair as footholds, and before long climbed over his shoulder and onto a ledge encased by high cliffs, the orange light of sunset glowing behind them.

"This must be it, the hidden" Thorin said breathlessly, striding ahead to study the rock. But, once again, a door did not meet his eyes. Very well hidden, he thought. But he smiled nonetheless, the door was here, he felt it. "Let all those who doubted us rue this day" he said, holding up the key with a victorious smile. The company cheered, punching the cold air with excitement and relief. All but Fili, who leaned back against the rock, still catching his breath from the climb. He forced a glad smile when Balin glanced over at him. He wondered if the old dwarf could see through his feigned joy, but if he did, he said nothing.

"Right, then, we have a key," Dwalin said, making his way over to where the door was hidden, "which means somewhere there is a keyhole." He rested his hands against the cliff and felt the rock, attempting to feel the outline of the door and its keyhole, trying to find what was hidden from his eyes.

"The last light of Durin's Day," Thorin had moved to stand at the edge of the ledge, looking out across the rocky land which was blanketed in a golden shroud as the sun continued to fall, he looked back at the cliff, Dwalin still using his hands to investigate, "will shine upon the keyhole." But as the light grew dimmer, still no door had been found. Fili stared at the sunset, feeling what warmth the diminishing light offered on his cheeks. Behind him he heard the company shifting, starting to grow restless and worried, he could hear more hands begin to pat on the rocks.

"Nori." His uncle said, sending the dwarf forward to aid the search, knowing full well of his capabilities to pick locks and steal. Soon enough, Fili heard the tapping of a spoon on the rock. Clink, clink, clink. But as the tapping continued, and the sun fell lower and the sky grew darker, desperation grew. Fili turned to see that Dwalin had resolved to kicking at the cliffside. "We're loosing the light. Come on." Thorin urgerd.

"Be quiet! I can't hear when you're thumping!" Nori hissed at Dwalin, whose kicks had become harder in his impatiences, as if he thought he could kick straight through the rock and into the mountain itself. Clink, clink, clink. Clinkclinkclink. Nori shifted his position to try somewhere else. Clinkclinkclink.

"I can't find it. It's not here!" The larger dwarf beside him growled.

"Break it down!" Thorin ordered. With a nod each, Gloin and Bifur dashed forward to join Dwalin, and began hammering at the cliff with their axes, sparks flicking as metal met stone. "Come on!" The leader bellowed as less golden light began to shine on the rocks, starting to leave them cold and grey once more.

"Break!" Dwalin grunted, as though commanding the rock.

"It has to break." Thorin's voice had become quiet and breathy. Fili stared at him and could see the desperation in his blue eyes. He felt his chest tighten and wrapped his hands around the handle of his own axe and pushed forward, brining the blade down against the cliffside. It had to break, it could not all be for nothing! He grunted and brought the weapon down again with as much force as he could muster, watching the sparks lift and feeling the axe shudder with every strike.

"It's no good!" Balin shouted above the sounds of metal on rock, "The door's sealed, it can't be opened by force!" With one last strike and a frustrated growl, Fili turned to face the old dwarf, who wore a look of sadness upon his aged features. "There's a powerful magic on it." And with that, the mountain side was plunged into darkness. The company turned their eyes to the sky, not seeing the vibrant orange of sunset, now only a single strip of pink light span the very bottom of the sky. The day was over.

"No!" Thorin cried, pulling the map from his pocket at staring down at it. The company had fallen into a silence. Wind whistled through the rocks. "'The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole,'" he read aloud, eyes studying each word, each letter, for anything he might of missed. But saw nothing. "That's what it says." His voice quivered slightly. "What did we miss?" He asked. He approached Balin, who was old and wise. Eyes begging for an answer, "what did we miss? Balin?"

"We've lost the light." The white haired dwarf said with a sad shake of his head, "there's no more to be done. We had but on chance." Dejectedly, the company then turned away from where the hidden door was supposed to stand and begin to make their way back down the mountain. "It's over."

"Wait a minute." Bilbo said, surprised at the usually stubborn dwarves' quick resignation.

"We're too late." Gloin shock his head as he passed the hobbit, who looked towards Thorin.

"Where are they going?" He asked. Thorin said nothing, his usual stony face revealing the disappointment and sorrow he was feeling at their apparent failure. "you can't give up now!" Bilbo called after the company as they began to disappear. There was a clink as Thorin let the key fall from his hand. "Thorin." The exiled king marched to follow and pushed the map against Bilbo's chest, "you can't give up now." But Thorin did not listen to him and continued on until only Bilbo and Fili were left. The prince was still facing the rock, the handle of his axe, his shoulders rising and falling with panted breaths. Bilbo's brows pulled together, "Fili?"

"This couldn't have been for nothing." He said, his voice quiet. "I did not lose my brother twice for nothing." He growled the last word venomously, his free hand curled into a tight fist at his side. Bilbo dragged in a deep breath and approached him, coming to satnd at his side.

"You're right, you didn't" Fili gave him a sideways glance. "There has to be something." He looked down at the map and read the words so Fili could hear them. "'Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks'."

"What thrush?" The prince asked with a huff, "I don't recall seeing a thrush." Bilbo hummed a response and continued reading.

"'The setting sun,' and 'the last light of Durin's Day will shine." He stepped back and looked towards the sky, Fili following his gaze and leaning on his axe. "The last light," Bilbo sighed, taking some steps towards the cliff edge, he could just make out the sounds of the Company beneath him. "The last light." He looked up again. The pink strip had vanished and the sky was now an inky blue, silver clouds floated across it as the moonlight shone on them. Bilbo paused. Moonlight. Light. Then there came a clicking, rhythmic and constant. He followed the sound to see a bird hitting the rock with a small pebble it held in its beak.

"Uh, Bilbo?" Fili said, "is that a …"

"A thrush, yes it is." The pair watched the small bird, neither daring to move should they startle it. Then a silver light came upon the cliffside, growing until the very rock seemed to glow. Both people felt their breaths catch. "The last light." Bilbo said joyfully, relieved. His voice shaking slightly as he tried to keep down the chuckles that were building in his throat. But Fili did not stop, and let one breathy chuckle pass his lips.

"Look!" He cried, letting his axe fall to the ground. The thrush fluttered its wings and leapt upon a rock but did not fly away. "The keyhole! I see it!" Bilbo came to his side and looked where the blonde was pointing. "Call the others back!"

"Come back!" He bellowed, seeming to cross the ledge in one stride, calling down to where the others had gone. "Come back! It's the light of the moon! The last moon of autumn!" And then he let himself laugh, he could not help it. He looked towards Fili, who had even managed a broad smile as he studied the keyhole, making sure not to look away from it should the moonlight fade. "Where's the key? Where's the key?" Bilbo asked, turning in a circle, eyes searching the ground. "Come on, it was here. It was here." He bent his body low, "it was just …" And then he found it. Or, at least his foot found it, as he kicked it across the stone. It was about to slip off the edge when a heavy boot dropped down on the thin rope around it, leaving it dangling. Thorin. The king carefully knelt down and took it in his hands. He stared at the thing, the rest of the company approaching over the shoulder of the giant stone dwarf to line up beside him.

Fili shifted to let his uncle passed, both exchanging quick glances, before Thorin slid the key into the keyhole and twisting it. Stones seemed to crunch at the movement, like a stone lock. With a deep, steadying breath, Thorin pressed his hands against the rock and pushed. And the door opened. All fell silent, all eyes staring into the dark hallway the door had revealed.

"Erebor." Thorin breathed. Balin came up behind him to gaze into the cavern.

"Thorin." He said, voice quivering with emotion. Thorin smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder before stepping through the doorway.

"I know these walls," He said, running his fingertips across the stone, "these halls, this stone." From outside, Fili felt a swell in his chest, despite his anger, he felt happy for his uncle, he had waited 171 years for this moment. He had waited 171 years to return home.

"You remember it, Balin, chamber filled with golden light."

"I remember." The old dwarf stepped into the hall, his fingers, like Thorin's, tracing the stone. The others began to follow, one-by-one. Soon stopping to gaze at a carving above them.

"Herein lies the Seventh Kingdom of Durin's Folk." Gloin read aloud. "May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defence of this home." The words were warm and welcoming. They filled the company's hearts with great happiness. When the words were read, it was clear. The dwarves of Erebor had returned home.


-A/N-

Thoughts whilst watching the 'search for the door scene' in the film; how could they not have seen that earlier, it's huge! Are dwarves half blind?

Next task; fighting a dragon. Good luck fellas.

Thanks for your patience guys, I wanted to get this uploaded ages ago, I mean it's not like I have exams or essays anymore. *Shrugs* but I hope you enjoy it. I promise I'll write quicker from now on!

As usual, faves, follows and reviews are welcome!