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Finally - The final chapters to The Firemoon

Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Feb 28 2015, 3:01am

Post #1 of 13 (4423 views)
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Finally - The final chapters to The Firemoon Can't Post

For those new to the story, here is a link to earlier chapters:

http://newboards.theonering.net/...;;page=unread#unread

Plus I found the amazing picture at DeviantArt.com, which goes so well with the story:



And now, the final chapters to The Firemoon - feedback greatly appreciated!



Dunland


The Misty Mountains loomed ahead, so much closer, yet between the mountains and the caravan there appeared to be nothing but empty fields. Kili couldn’t understand this. The land was clearly fertile, with lush grass for horses and sheep, and plenty of water as well. But there were no towns or people here. “What is Dunland like,” he asked.


Gloin cleared his throat. “Oh, well, it’s not quite so prosperous as the Blue Mountains. But the Dunland dwarves have nice homes in the foothills, and they do trade with the men of Rohan, leatherwork and blacksmithing for the horses and such. You see there,” he said as he pointed, “the Greenway runs through the Gap of Rohan, though we won’t be going that far.”


“Why not?” Kili wondered aloud.


“We make this trip for our kin,” Gloin answered. “There’s plenty of trade with the race of men back in Erid Luin. I do not need to look for them here, though of course I’ll barter with any man I should come across.”


This time Fili spoke. “How much farther to Dunland?”


“At least another day,” Dwalin replied. “The land is mostly flat leading up to the Mountains, so we should make good time.”


“We’ll spend a few days there,” Gloin added, “so you’ll be able to rest up before the journey back.”


Magn glanced at Thorin, who was walking alongside his pony. He had been walking most of the day, only getting a rest while the wagons were ferried across. Falconer walked alongside him; both looked very tired. “Maybe we could take a minute to rest up now?”


“Oh, well,” Gloin muttered as he looked around, “I’d rather keep going, but if anyone needs a rest I suppose we could stop for a minute or two. Thorin?”


“I am fine,” he said pridefully. He glanced back at Magn as he added, “I appreciate your concern, but I think it best we keep moving. The sun will be setting before long, we can stop then, agreed?”


“Agreed,” Falconer replied. They traveled another two hours, until the sun touched the western horizon. There was no stream nearby as before, and firewood was scarce, but they were able to make do with the provisions they had. Thorin and Falconer were particularly exhausted, and Dwalin hadn’t slept the night before, so the three of them were relieved of watch. They fell asleep shortly after dinner. However, Bifur seemed fine, and was sitting near the fire working on another toy while Magn and Bofur played a quiet melody on their instruments.


Everyone else was still awake, although no one was talking. Gloin kept checking his map, calculating how much farther they had to go. Runa and Rota were knitting, but apparently were dropping stitches and having to start over. The other merchants were nervously watching their wagons and animals, looking for any sign of trouble. Likewise, so were Fili and Kili. They were assigned first watch. Fili held his pipe but barely smoked, as he kept glancing around the plains. He kept telling himself the plains were flat and bare, so no one could surprise them like the previous night. Still, the light from the campfire would go only so far.


Kili was a little less concerned, perhaps because he was more tired than he should have been. He was pacing around like Bifur did the night before, but it didn’t seem to help. He leaned against one of the wagons, looking toward the mountain range. It seemed to go forever. He squatted next to Gloin to look at the map. He whispered, “How far down the range do we travel?”


Gloin tapped a spot on the map. “Down to this gap in the mountains.”


“These plains are so wide,” Kili observed. “Seems that we could wander off and miss that point.”


“No, lad,” Gloin assured him. “As long as you keep the mountains to your left, you will be fine.”


Kili nodded, then stood to stretch his legs. Fili had started to nod off. He jerked himself awake, then slapped both sides of his face to make himself more alert. “I could help you with that,” Kili teased. He noticed the ground was reflecting light, even as the campfire ebbed. He turned to the source of the light. In the distance he could clearly see the gap in the mountain range, and between that gap was the moon. It was just as round and full as last night, but instead of silver it was tinged in red. “Oh,” he gasped, “look at that moon!”



Fili stood to get a better look. Bofur and Magn stopped playing and stood as well. “It’s a firemoon,” Bofur exclaimed, loud enough to wake the sleeping members of the caravan.


“I’ve never seen one before,” Kili went on, “it’s beautiful!”


Falconer was not so pleased. “It is a bad omen. Thorin,” he said as he turned to the dwarf, “you should reconsider your plan.”


But Thorin shook his head. “It is just a moon, nothing more. It is too far away to do me any harm.”


Everyone felt even more nervous by Falconer’s warning, except Dwalin. He barely looked at the firemoon, having seen dozens in his lifetime. Instead, he grumbled something indecipherable before rolling to his other side and falling asleep. Thorin tried to go back to sleep, but found sleep would not come. Kili was still transfixed by the firemoon, barely moving from where he stood when he first saw it. Giving up on sleep, Thorin stood and walked over to his nephew. “So,” he said quietly, “how do you like your first adventure?”


“I like it quite well,” he replied. “I look forward to our next one.” He turned to face his uncle. “Thorin, how long do you plan to search for Thrain?”


“Until I am satisfied that the rumor was just that.” He smiled at Kili. “Do not fear for me, I will return. But under no circumstance are you to come looking for me. You do not know the wild as well as I do, and your mother will be concerned as well. You must look out for her.” Thorin grasped Kili’s arm. “Promise me you will not come after me.”


Kili’s mouth tightened, and he ground his heel into the dirt. “I promise,” he mumbled, although it was the last thing he wanted to say.


“Good.” Thorin nodded. “Now, why don’t you get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll not stop until we reach Dunland.” Thorin motioned with his head, still smiling, and watched as Kili went for his bedroll, a sulking expression on his face.


Fili watched this exchange, and couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. “You favor him so,” he mumbled as he tapped his pipe. He looked up to see Thorin staring back at him, a questioning look on his face. Fili rose and walked to where Thorin stood. They took a few slow steps away from the camp.


“You know,” Thorin began, “he would probably say the same about you. You are my chosen heir, but more importantly you both are the sons I never had. Your father followed me into battle and died there.”


“And you feel a responsibility toward us.” Fili had heard this before.


“It is more than just that. It’s…” Thorin struggled for the words, “it is genuine love for the both of you. You,” he said as he placed a hand on Fili’s shoulder, “you remind me so much of my own father, of Thrain. Restrained, protective, these are fine qualities in a king. And I know you will make me proud when your time comes.” Thorin sighed as he released his older nephew. “But your brother, well….”


“He reminds you of my father,” Fili replied.


“No,” Thorin said, “he reminds me of my brother. He reminds me of Frerin.” Fili’s blue eyes swelled when he heard this. Thorin looked down as he continued. “Frerin followed me into battle. He felt he needed to prove himself, to me and my father. I wanted him to stay back, I didn’t think he was ready, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He charged into a fight without looking, and before I could reach him an Orc came up behind him and cut him down, and all I could do was watch. So believe me, when I tell you to watch out for Kili, it’s not because he means more to me than you do, it’s to spare you that pain. He looks up to you, and he will follow you anywhere. So watch for him.”


“I will, Thorin.” Fili looked at his younger brother, who was still gazing at the firemoon. “I swear it.” Thorin slapped his nephews’ shoulder affectionately. They returned to the camp and sat near the fire, lighting their pipes while they gazed at the firemoon. Eventually the merchants spread out their bedrolls and fell asleep. Even Bifur finally put away the toy and curled up near the fire. Fili rose and built it up as best he could. By this time the moon had shifted across the sky. “Thorin,” Fili said quietly, “why don’t you get some more sleep.”


“I’ll be fine,” Thorin replied. “Go on, join your brother.” Fili knew his uncle well enough to know that he would not change Thorin’s mind, so he shrugged and pulled out his bedroll. It took little time for Fili to drift off, leaving Thorin alone on watch. But he was happy to have this opportunity to watch over his sisters sons, to teach and guide them. They had grown into fine, strong dwarves, and would be capable warriors if need be. Fili especially would be a great leader, something that Thorin hoped he had been. He realized he could be walking into a trap, and if not careful could end up never returning to the Blue Mountains. He had to believe that, should the worst happen his nephews could lead the dwarves of Erid Luin, with guidance from Balin and further training from Dwalin. Feeling fatigued, he rose to awaken his comrade in arms. Dwalin needed no explanation. He nodded and rose quietly to assume the watch, while Thorin once again slept near Magn.


The caravan didn’t awaken until sunrise, which was later than Gloin would have liked. They hurriedly packed up their wagons, anxious to make Dunland before the end of the day. There they would have the opportunity to wash the trail dust away and sleep in warm beds – something everyone wanted to do. Kili especially was looking forward to a break from the dreary travel, and to see other dwarves as well. The weather was sunny and pleasant for the final leg of their journey, the conversation was mostly playful banter. The brown hills of Dunland were becoming visible by noon. Much smaller than the mountains behind them, the hills were dangerously close to both goblins and the wild men, like the ones who attacked two nights ago. And yet the Dunland Dwarves stayed. Kili looked around, wondering what the appeal was. The land was reasonably fertile, fed by streams from the mountains, but Dwarves were not known for farming, and Kili could see no other appeal. He kicked his pony to speed up to Gloin’s wagon. “Why do the Dwarves stay here?”


Gloin shrugged. “Many of them are descended from the Moria Dwarves, and I suppose they like to stay close by.”


“But will they ever be able to return?”


“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Many dwarves died trying to reclaim it. I suppose we won, but the cost was so dear as to make me think it was not worth the price.” Gloin stopped to consider what he just said. “Of course, the Moria dwarves may not feel that way. They may feel it would be worth the cost to return, and if given the chance they will. So I suppose that’s why they stay.”


Thorin heard all this, and although he didn’t speak he understood why the Dunland Dwarves stayed on in an increasingly hostile area. He still remembered Erebor, and would return if it were possible – if only! The words hung in his mind; they were a private shame that he had done so little to make the return possible. The survivors of Erebor had followed him to Erid Luin, for safety and the promise of a good life. He said at the time that he’d rather work the anvil than beg at proud doors, keeping his arms strong until they could wield sharper tools. But would that day ever come?


“Something troubles you.” Thorin glanced at his human companion. “Perhaps you are reconsidering your quest. I would not be angry if you change your mind.”


“My mind is set,” Thorin answered. “Perhaps it is time to give up the safety of the Blue Mountains for the chance to reclaim that which was lost.”


“Are you talking about finding your father, or something else?”


Thorin sighed. “I will find my father, if he is out there. That will be a good start.”


“A good start?” Falconer asked, “A good start for what?”


“For whatever awaits me,” he replied. “Do not worry, my friend. I shall be ready for whatever comes my way.” Thorin squared his shoulders and quickened his pace. “Come, Dunland is ahead. We are almost there.”


As the caravan neared the hills, Kili could make out long homes similar to the one Thorin had built for Dis. It was clear the hills would not be suitable for building the kind of homes dwarves were used to living in, but some had been dug out and secured with timber. Still, there could not be more than 30 dwarves in this area. It seemed a long trip for very little profit, but as Gloin said, they looked out for their own. A large tent was set up in the clearing between the hills. “That is where we’ll be staying,” Gloin explained as he steered his wagon toward the tent. “Tomorrow there will be other dwarves from farther back in these hills, come to do trade with us. But tonight we will have this place to ourselves.” The merchants secured their wagons and unloaded their merchandise, vying for the best stations outside the tent. Inside the tent there was a long table with a good number of chairs. Some of the Dunlanders were setting up cots along the perimeter of the tent, hanging curtains as they went along. A large oven behind the tent was baking bread and roasting a huge pig. Thorin stood near Gloin, who was talking to some of the Dunlanders. They bowed politely as they introduced themselves, clearly wanting to make a good impression on their guests.


Kili looked around the small village, feeling just a bit disappointed. The Dunland dwarves had so little, yet they seemed so proud of their little village. He wondered what they could possibly have to trade? As he looked up the nearby mountain his brother came up and smacked his arm. “Thorin has been calling you,” Fili said. “We are being summoned.” They hurried to their Uncle’s side.


“And here they are,” Thorin said, adding “finally” under his breath. “May I introduce Fili and Kili, my Sisters’ sons, and my heirs.” Neither of them realized Thorin would introduce them as such, and Kili wished he’d had a chance to wash his face before this introduction. But they bowed politely, receiving some half-dozen bows in return. Each Dunlander appeared to try to outdo the others.


After the introductions an elderly dwarf stepped forward. “Let me show you to your room.” As they followed him the dwarf said, “It’s true we don’t have an Inn, but we will make our guests comfortable. Tonight you will feast on the finest meat and drink the finest ale. Here we are,” he said as he pulled back the curtain with a flourish. Their “room” consisted of two cots placed side by side, topped with a straw mattress and wool blanket. A makeshift washstand stood between the cots. “If there is anything else you should need, please let me know. I am at your service,” he repeated as he backed out, bowing.


Kili waited until he was certain the old dwarf could not hear him. “Gloin was correct,” he said quietly, “this is not nearly so grand as the Blue Mountains.”


Fili shrugged. “No, but these beds are a welcome sight after sleeping on the ground for so long.” He set aside his swords and pack, took off his coat and peeled his shirt off before splashing water on his face. “Besides,” he added as he washed his arms, “neither of us will take watch tonight. And I, for one, look forward to a full night’s sleep. Now, let us get ready.”





One Journey Ended


Kili and Fili came to dinner wearing clean woolen tunics, made from their mother’s yarn. Magn also washed and put on a clean dress for dinner, carefully rebraiding her locks, combing out her beard and decorating both with pearly beads. She had hoped to catch Thorin’s attention, and in fact she did catch the attention of every dwarf in the village. Even Runa and Rota had their share of attention, as there apparently were no dwarf-women in the village. Just as Magn located Thorin, talking to a few older village dwarves, an announcement was made that dinner would be served, and that everyone should come to the table.


Thorin and Gloin were ushered to the head of the table. Dwalin, Fili and Kili sat to Thorin’s right, while some of the merchants sat to Gloin’s left. Magn made it a point to sit on the opposite side of the table, near Thorin. He was speaking to his nephews when he caught sight of her, making him pause. He nodded approvingly before continuing his conversation. Kili and Fili also noticed, both her appearance and their uncle’s reaction, but they knew better than to say anything to Thorin. A village dwarf sat at each end of the table, apparently leaders of the village, and a few more villagers sat on Magn’s side. Mugs of ale were brought out, along with bread and bowls of soup made from mountain vegetables. Finally the roasted pig was brought out, placed in front of the guests of honor. One of the village leaders stood and made a toast to Thorin, Gloin and the merchants, then the pig was carved. While they ate, a small group of villagers came in with musical instruments, and began playing some merry tunes. Another round of ale was brought out, and each dwarf drank his fill – except for Bofur, who drank enough for two dwarves.


After dinner was over, Gloin and most of the other merchants stayed to talk with the villagers, smoking on pipes by the still warm oven. Fili, Kili and Dwalin all wanted to get some sleep, so they returned to their rooms. Thorin approached a slightly nervous Magn. “You look lovely tonight.”


“Thank you.” After an awkward pause she observed, “I don’t see the Ranger – where is he?”


“He is nearby. He did not want to intrude.”


“Well, surely the villagers wouldn’t turn him away?”


“No, but he felt it best not to ask. I suppose he feels more comfortable sleeping under the night sky. Magn, I wanted to ask about your arm. Is it mending?”


“Oh, yes, thank you. One of the villagers checked it and gave me a clean dressing. But the stitches are not quite ready to come out yet.”


“I see. I was instructing my nephews on what to do after I leave, making sure they assist you with whatever you need. Dwalin will also look out for you after I leave.”


“So, you still mean to look for your father?”



“Yes, some in the village have also heard of a wild dwarf roaming nearby, though none have actually seen him. Falconer suggested we check with the Rohirrim, so we will leave for the Gap early.”


“If you think that is best.” Her heart sank. She realized that she may never see him again. “I will miss you.” She realized too late what she had said. Thorin had a surprised look on his face; she was too bold. “I’m sorry, I meant, um” she stammered, “I need some air.” She rushed shame-faced out of the tent, leaving Thorin where he stood. She ran to the outskirts of the village and leaned against a barricade. “Stupid, stupid,” she repeated, her face wet with tears. After a few minutes she calmed herself and looked around. The clearing was well-lit by the moon, once again a silver orb in the night sky. She noticed a fountain in the center of the village, fed by a mountain stream. She walked over and splashed cold water on her face, blotting with her sleeve.


Soft footsteps came up behind her, and a deep, gentle voice asked, “Are you alright?”


“Yes,” she said, though still too embarrassed to face him. “I am sorry, I spoke out of place.” She shivered a bit from the cold.


Strong hands slid around her shoulders, pulling her against a broad chest. “You needn’t apologize for expressing your feelings. To be honest, I will miss you as well. Now, why don’t you come back inside where it’s warmer?” She turned toward him and was nearly blinded by his bright smile and mesmerizing blue eyes. He stepped back a bit, but his hands lingered on her shoulders for a magical moment; too soon he gestured toward the tent. “Shall we?”


“Of course,” she replied as she walked alongside him. “I suppose you will turn in, get some rest for tomorrow.”


“Yes, I plan to.”


“I will take good care of your pony,” she offered. “You can claim him when you return to Erid Luin.”


“Thank you,” he said before entering the tent. He couldn’t help but look at her face. He smiled. “If it is alright, I would like to call on you when I return.”


Her heart leaped for joy. She wanted to sing out, but fought the urge. “I would like that very much, my Lord.”


“Thorin,” he reminded her.


She smiled warmly. “I would like that very much, Thorin.”


“Until then,” he promised, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips before turning away. He walked slowly to his room, glancing back at her before stepping behind the curtain. She was unable to move before he was out of sight, and stood in place for some time after, trying to deal with the swirl of emotions running through her very being.


“You cannot stand here all night,” a friendly voice told her. Runa had been dancing with some of the villagers, and witnessed the whole event. “You should get some rest. I’m sure he won’t leave tomorrow before saying his goodbyes.” Magn nodded and followed Runa to their quarters. The three dwarf ladies were put up in a corner room, larger than most. Rota was already laying down, though not yet asleep. Runa whispered, “Are you sleeping, sister?”


“No.” Rota turned toward her sister. “Perhaps now that the music has stopped, I can finally sleep.” Indeed the musicians stopped playing when Runa stopped dancing. The three ladies made themselves comfortable on their cots, blew out their candles and drifted to sleep, Magn being the last to slumber.


She awoke to the smell of sausage and jumped out of bed, barely taking time to check her appearance in the mirror before hurrying to breakfast. She saw Dwalin, Fili and Kili were already eating, but Thorin was not with them. She approached Kili cautiously, intending to ask him if Thorin had already left. As soon as he saw her Kili jumped to his feet and pulled out a chair for her on the other side of the table. “Here you go,” he said as she sat down. “Would you like some tea?”


“Yes, thank you.” She watched as Kili hoisted the large kettle and filled a mug with the steeped brew. “I don’t see Thorin,” she began, when Runa suddenly appeared and sat next to her.


“He’s probably outside,” Dwalin answered before turning to the other nephew. “Fili, give your brother a hand. Fetch a mug for Miss Runa here.”


“Why thank you,” she said as Fili rose. Patting Magn’s lap, she leaned over and whispered, “Patience.” The mugs were delivered, and the ladies sipped their tea while waiting for their plates of sausage and eggs, served with flat biscuits. The plates had just arrived when Thorin walked in. He poured himself a mug of tea, then sat next to Magn and across from Dwalin. Magn noticed Kili wore a huge, cheeky grin on his face – so this was his plan! He had to turn away to keep from snickering. Fili landed a not-so-subtle elbow in his brother’s ribs. Kili suppressed the grin for a bare moment before it came back, a little less obvious this time. Magn noticed Runa was smiling as well; was she in on this?


Dwalin rolled his eyes at the brother’s antics. Getting down to business he addressed Thorin. “So, you and the Ranger are leaving us. When would that be?”


“Soon. Some dwarves from the Gap are coming. I will speak to them before I leave.” He tilted his head and drained the mug, wiping his mouth before turning to Magn. “They tell me a fair number are coming. You may sell all your pottery today.”


“I would like that,” she replied, “but then what would I do tomorrow?”


“Rest up,” he suggested, “and take care of your arm.”


“And your pony,” she quickly added.


“I’m certain you will,” he said with a smile, “and you might keep an eye on this one.” He gestured to Kili. “Give him plenty to do, to keep him out of trouble.”


“Who, me?” Kili looked confused.


“Not to worry,” Dwalin cut in, “we still have much training to do.” The brothers looked at each other with slight disappointment.


A village dwarf approached and whispered something to Thorin. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “They have arrived. I must be going.” Thorin stood before adding, “Remember, Dwalin is in charge. Do whatever he says.”


Fili asked, “We are still to meet in Bree?”


“Yes,” Thorin replied, “once you get the merchants safely back to Erid Luin.” He was looking at Magn as he spoke. He felt a strong urge to touch her hair, but restrained himself. He had to leave, the sooner the better. “Until then,” he said, more to Magn than anyone else. He turned and walked out of the tent, glancing back briefly before stepping out of sight.


Magn watched him leave, her gaze remaining on the tent’s entrance long after he was gone. Finally Runa leaned toward her and said, “You should eat that before it gets cold.” Magn realized she had barely taken a bite of food. She turned back to her plate, but found she wasn’t all that hungry. Still, it would be wrong to waste it. She forced her food down, barely hearing the conversation going on around her.


She kept quite busy the rest of the day, setting up her table and bartering with the stream of dwarves that came by. Apparently there were more dwarves in Dunland than she realized, living in small enclaves in the foothills or in the Gap itself. There were even a few lady dwarves in Dunland, who took great interest in Magn’s pottery. She sold most of her wares by mid-day, which left her too much time to wander around the small village. She entertained herself for a time by watching Kili and Fili practice sparring with each other, while hearing Dwalin’s gruff voice calling out commands. She then returned to her table, took one of her unsold plates, and began etching a design into it.


The evening dinner was much less festive than the previous night, still there was plenty of food. Gloin explained that they would stay one more night after this. “There won’t be as many customers tomorrow, but we should all be able to do some additional trade tomorrow.”


Magn heard Dwalin speak to his two charges. “You’ll have a chance to rest up tomorrow, before our return journey.”


“So, that means no training.” Kili asked hopefully.


“That means there won’t be as much training.” Dwalin rarely smiled, but he couldn’t help it as he looked at Kili’s disappointment. “Aye, your arms are sore now, but think how much stronger you’ll be when we return to Erid Luin.” Kili didn’t find that much consolation.


The next day Magn sold the last of her pottery, keeping only the plate she was decorating. Runa and Rota also sold the last of their goods, however Bifur and Bofur didn’t sell any toys. Apparently there were no dwarf children in Dunland. After much arguing, Bifur finally persuaded Bofur to part with some of his ale and pipeweed. It was a good thing, as Gloin hadn’t presented the bill for their expenses yet. Gloin purchased some food supplies for their return trip, and advised everyone to be packed up and ready to go come sunrise. Once the caravan crosses the Greyflood they would turn due west and make for the Southern Range. It would be a shorter trip, he promised.


Kili caught up with Magn at their last dinner in Dunland. “So, you did quite well with your pottery?”


“Yes I did.” He noticed she was still holding one plate. “And how are you feeling, young Sir? Hopefully Dwalin didn’t push you too hard.”


“Well, his idea of ‘too hard’ and mine are a bit different.” He smiled. “Still, we’re done for the evening, and I for one would like another ale.”


She giggled. “I’m sure you deserve it.” She put aside her etching tool, blew on the plate and batted the dust away. “For you,” she said as she handed it to him, “a memento of your first big adventure.”


Kili held the plate to a light, amazed at what he saw. “It’s the firemoon! Thank you! You are an amazing artist!”


“You are most welcome, and I’m glad you like it.” It pleased her that he appreciated her gift. She beamed with pride.


“I will treasure this always,” he added. “Join me for that ale?”


“I would love to.”


They returned to the table, where a keg of ale awaited. Kili sat the plate down carefully before filling two mugs. “So, what should we drink to?”


“To you, my lord Kili,” she replied. “May this be the first of many fine adventures!”



The End

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!


Kirly
Lorien


Feb 28 2015, 3:30pm

Post #2 of 13 (4385 views)
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You know I love your story! [In reply to] Can't Post

It was the perfect reading material to go with my Saturday morning coffee (Jamaican Blue, my special weekend treat).

This comment is in no way to be taken as a criticism; it's more like sadness that the story is over. It could go on, no? I would so love to read of Thirin having just a few years of happiness and love with Magn. But, I guess it couldn't since at the end of his search is when he meets Gandalf in Bree, right?

Anyway, I thoroughy enjoyed reading your story. Thank you for sharing it.

My avatar photo is Lake Tekapo in New Zealand's South Island. Taken by me in 2004 on a Red Carpet Tours LOTR Movie Location Tour. 'Twas the Vacation of a Lifetime!

pictures taken while on the tour are here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/Kirly7/LOTRNewZealandTour#


Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Feb 28 2015, 5:18pm

Post #3 of 13 (4381 views)
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Thank you so much! [In reply to] Can't Post

Yeah, that picture inspired me to change the ending a bit - sadly, you are correct, after meeting Gandalf in Bree Thorin takes off to reclaim Erebor. I am glad you liked it, but now I need to get back to work on my Hobbit-inspired origific. It's about Vikings in Newfoundland. I got about 15 chapters written, then as usual I set it aside. Time to get back to that.

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!


Kirly
Lorien


Feb 28 2015, 5:32pm

Post #4 of 13 (4375 views)
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15? WOW! /// [In reply to] Can't Post

 

My avatar photo is Lake Tekapo in New Zealand's South Island. Taken by me in 2004 on a Red Carpet Tours LOTR Movie Location Tour. 'Twas the Vacation of a Lifetime!

pictures taken while on the tour are here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/Kirly7/LOTRNewZealandTour#


Otaku-sempai
Immortal


Feb 28 2015, 8:21pm

Post #5 of 13 (4371 views)
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Well... [In reply to] Can't Post

I will admit that I am a bit disappointed that you didn't come up with more of an adventure. There is no conflict that Fili or the others need to resolve. I guess that I was expecting something like an incident while crossing the ford at Tharbad or an attack by bandits in Dunland. Or at least a tense encounter with the Dunlendings that had to be defused. The characterizations, though. are well-done.

Do you know if the female character in the illustration is supposed to be a hobbit-lass? The artist may have forgotten that lady dwarves are also supposed to sport facial hair!

"At the end of the journey, all men think that their youth was Arcadia..." - Phantom F. Harlock


Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Feb 28 2015, 11:27pm

Post #6 of 13 (4363 views)
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The lass in the picture [In reply to] Can't Post

To be honest I don't know, but I thought she looked a bit Elvish - which would be funny if that's the case!

Well I could have kept writing, probably more about Thorin and Falconer running into some rough Dunlandings, but I kept thinking where this had to go, which was the meeting in Bree. So part of what I was writing was the lead-up to that, like Thorin hearing Gloin talking about why the Moria Dwarves stay, the hope of returning, kind of getting that fire going. Also the bit about Frerin, I thought that story could explain why Fili is so protective of Kili - sadly we all know what happens there. I thought that story fit both the book-verse and movie-verse.

Glad to know the characterizations are good, and that you liked the one fight scene. Well I talked about doing a re-write of the first few chapters to be more in line with the book-verse, so perhaps if I do that I can add another fight scene somewhere. Thanks again for your help on that.

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!


Otaku-sempai
Immortal


Mar 1 2015, 2:54pm

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Thanks for replying. [In reply to] Can't Post

I think that it is fine and completely appropriate to keep the story in-line with the films; after all, it was based on Kili's story as told to Tauriel. A conflict doesn't need to mean a fight. It could be as simple as Kili being torn by having to decide whether to go with his uncle or remain with the caravan. I really did expect your tale to actually describe the party's crossing of the Greyflood. If I remember right, you skipped over that--a missed opportunity.

"At the end of the journey, all men think that their youth was Arcadia..." - Phantom F. Harlock


Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Mar 1 2015, 3:09pm

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Crossing the Greyflood [In reply to] Can't Post

Well I did mention the rafting across by some people from Rohan in an earlier chapter - I didn't mention it again because I thought that would be boring. Yeah, it was a little bit of a coming-of-age story for Kili, and he was pretty torn about not accompanying Thorin, but Thorin made him promise to stay with the caravan. I think that, since Dwarves are so incredibly loyal to their own that they would also have a strong sense of duty, and the three of them had a duty to get the merchants back to Erid Luin safely. Then of course they were going to Bree, which wasn't in the movie but I thought it would make alot of sense, especially since Dwalin was the first dwarf to arrive at Bag End. Well, it's all things to consider for any potential rewrite - AFTER I finish up my "Celtic Rings" fiction, I've let that sit too long. I'm pretty fired up and ready to go on that!

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!


Otaku-sempai
Immortal


Mar 1 2015, 3:27pm

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That depends. [In reply to] Can't Post

I do remember you mentioning the plan to cross the river (and we discussed the issue of whether rafts would be used at the ford and how else it might be accomplished). The crossing would only be boring if you wrote it that way. If rafts or barges were used then animals might have paniced, fallen off, gotten caught in any lines that might have been used, or otherwise been in need of rescue. Other lives might have been at risk. Bandits might have used the opportunity to attack the caravan. RIver monsters (anything from large crocodiles to Mewlips*) might have attacked. A raft or barge could break free and become imperiled by the remains of the bridge.

The Greenway itself is little-used and overgrown by this time. The caravan could lose the path at some point. Wagons could break down--again giving bandits a chance to attack. Something as simple as a lightning storm panicking the beasts and causing some of them to run off could add an element of drama to your tale.

* Look up J.R.R. Tolkien's poem "The Mewlips" from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil.

"At the end of the journey, all men think that their youth was Arcadia..." - Phantom F. Harlock


Elarie
Grey Havens

Mar 3 2015, 12:54pm

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Thank you! [In reply to] Can't Post

I really enjoyed the story and the characters. Your descriptions of the people and the surroundings are wonderful, I could see everything as I read. Good job Smile

__________________

Gold is the strife of kinsmen,
and fire of the flood-tide,
and the path of the serpent.

(Old Icelandic Fe rune poem)


Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Mar 3 2015, 2:20pm

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Thank you! [In reply to] Can't Post

I'm glad you liked it!

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!


Otaku-sempai
Immortal


Mar 3 2015, 3:36pm

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Possible edits... [In reply to] Can't Post


In Reply To
Dunland


The Misty Mountains loomed ahead [and on the left], so much closer, yet between the mountains and the caravan there appeared to be nothing but empty fields. Kili couldn’t understand this. The land was clearly fertile, with lush grass for horses and sheep, and plenty of water as well. But there were no towns or people here. “What is Dunland like,” he asked.


Gloin cleared his throat. “Oh, well, it’s not quite so prosperous as the Blue Mountains. [The Dunlendings were here first, but their settlements are small and scattered. That's probably why they weren't hit as hard as the folk of Eriador by the Great Plague and the floods that followed.] But the Dunland dwarves have nice homes in the foothills, and they do trade with the [Dunlendings], [stonework] and blacksmithing for [furs, meat,] and such. [And they trade with the Rohirrim from time to time for livestock, though that does not please the Men of Dunland.] You see there,” he said as he pointed, “the Greenway runs through the Gap of Rohan, though we won’t be going that far.”


“Why not?” Kili wondered aloud.


“We make this trip for our kin [and the furs of the Dunlendings only],” Gloin answered. “There’s plenty of [other] trade with the race of men back in Erid Luin. I do not need to look for them here, though of course I’ll barter with any man I should come across. [Besides, the Men of Rohan do not cross the Gap for the Dunlendings have a deep hatred for the Rohirrim who drove them out of the lands to the east.]


This time Fili spoke. “How much farther to Dunland?”


“At least another day,” Dwalin replied. “The land is mostly flat leading up to the Mountains, so we should make good time.”


“We’ll spend a few days there,” Gloin added, “so you’ll be able to rest up before the journey back.”


Magn glanced at Thorin, who was walking alongside his pony. He had been walking most of the day, only getting a rest while the wagons were ferried across. Falconer walked alongside him; both looked very tired. “Maybe we could take a minute to rest up now?”


“Oh, well,” Gloin muttered as he looked around, “I’d rather keep going, but if anyone needs a rest I suppose we could stop for a minute or two. Thorin?”


“I am fine,” he said pridefully. He glanced back at Magn as he added, “I appreciate your concern, but I think it best we keep moving. The sun will be setting before long, we can stop then, agreed?”


“Agreed,” Falconer replied. They traveled another two hours, until the sun touched the western horizon. There was no stream nearby as before, and firewood was scarce, but they were able to make do with the provisions they had. Thorin and Falconer were particularly exhausted, and Dwalin hadn’t slept the night before, so the three of them were relieved of watch. They fell asleep shortly after dinner. However, Bifur seemed fine, and was sitting near the fire working on another toy while Magn and Bofur played a quiet melody on their instruments.


Everyone else was still awake, although no one was talking. Gloin kept checking his map, calculating how much farther they had to go. Runa and Rota were knitting, but apparently were dropping stitches and having to start over. The other merchants were nervously watching their wagons and animals, looking for any sign of trouble. Likewise, so were Fili and Kili. They were assigned first watch. Fili held his pipe but barely smoked, as he kept glancing around the plains. He kept telling himself the plains were flat and bare, so no one could surprise them like the previous night. Still, the light from the campfire would go only so far.


Kili was a little less concerned, perhaps because he was more tired than he should have been. He was pacing around like Bifur did the night before, but it didn’t seem to help. He leaned against one of the wagons, looking toward the mountain range. It seemed to go forever. He squatted next to Gloin to look at the map. He whispered, “How far down the range do we travel?”


Gloin tapped a spot on the map. “Down to this gap in the mountains.”


“These plains are so wide,” Kili observed. “Seems that we could wander off and miss that point.”


“No, lad,” Gloin assured him. “As long as you keep the mountains to your left, you will be fine.”


Kili nodded, then stood to stretch his legs. Fili had started to nod off. He jerked himself awake, then slapped both sides of his face to make himself more alert. “I could help you with that,” Kili teased. He noticed the ground was reflecting light, even as the campfire ebbed. He turned to the source of the light. In the distance he could clearly see the gap in the mountain range, and between that gap was the moon. It was just as round and full as last night, but instead of silver it was tinged in red. “Oh,” he gasped, “look at that moon!”



Fili stood to get a better look. Bofur and Magn stopped playing and stood as well. “It’s a firemoon,” Bofur exclaimed, loud enough to wake the sleeping members of the caravan.


“I’ve never seen one before,” Kili went on, “it’s beautiful!”


Falconer was not so pleased. “It is a bad omen. Thorin,” he said as he turned to the dwarf, “you should reconsider your plan.”


But Thorin shook his head. “It is just a moon, nothing more. It is too far away to do me any harm.”


Everyone felt even more nervous by Falconer’s warning, except Dwalin. He barely looked at the firemoon, having seen dozens in his lifetime. Instead, he grumbled something indecipherable before rolling to his other side and falling asleep. Thorin tried to go back to sleep, but found sleep would not come. Kili was still transfixed by the firemoon, barely moving from where he stood when he first saw it. Giving up on sleep, Thorin stood and walked over to his nephew. “So,” he said quietly, “how do you like your first adventure?”


“I like it quite well,” he replied. “I look forward to our next one.” He turned to face his uncle. “Thorin, how long do you plan to search for Thrain?”


“Until I am satisfied that the rumor was just that.” He smiled at Kili. “Do not fear for me, I will return. But under no circumstance are you to come looking for me. You do not know the wild as well as I do, and your mother will be concerned as well. You must look out for her.” Thorin grasped Kili’s arm. “Promise me you will not come after me.”


Kili’s mouth tightened, and he ground his heel into the dirt. “I promise,” he mumbled, although it was the last thing he wanted to say.


“Good.” Thorin nodded. “Now, why don’t you get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll not stop until we reach Dunland.” Thorin motioned with his head, still smiling, and watched as Kili went for his bedroll, a sulking expression on his face.


Fili watched this exchange, and couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. “You favor him so,” he mumbled as he tapped his pipe. He looked up to see Thorin staring back at him, a questioning look on his face. Fili rose and walked to where Thorin stood. They took a few slow steps away from the camp.


“You know,” Thorin began, “he would probably say the same about you. You are my chosen heir, but more importantly you both are the sons I never had. Your father followed me into battle and died there.”


“And you feel a responsibility toward us.” Fili had heard this before.


“It is more than just that. It’s…” Thorin struggled for the words, “it is genuine love for the both of you. You,” he said as he placed a hand on Fili’s shoulder, “you remind me so much of my own father, of Thrain. Restrained, protective, these are fine qualities in a king. And I know you will make me proud when your time comes.” Thorin sighed as he released his older nephew. “But your brother, well….”


“He reminds you of my father,” Fili replied.


“No,” Thorin said, “he reminds me of my brother. He reminds me of Frerin.” Fili’s blue eyes swelled when he heard this. Thorin looked down as he continued. “Frerin followed me into battle. He felt he needed to prove himself, to me and my father. I wanted him to stay back, I didn’t think he was ready, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He charged into a fight without looking, and before I could reach him an Orc came up behind him and cut him down, and all I could do was watch. So believe me, when I tell you to watch out for Kili, it’s not because he means more to me than you do, it’s to spare you that pain. He looks up to you, and he will follow you anywhere. So watch for him.”


“I will, Thorin.” Fili looked at his younger brother, who was still gazing at the firemoon. “I swear it.” Thorin slapped his nephews’ shoulder affectionately. They returned to the camp and sat near the fire, lighting their pipes while they gazed at the firemoon. Eventually the merchants spread out their bedrolls and fell asleep. Even Bifur finally put away the toy and curled up near the fire. Fili rose and built it up as best he could. By this time the moon had shifted across the sky. “Thorin,” Fili said quietly, “why don’t you get some more sleep.”


“I’ll be fine,” Thorin replied. “Go on, join your brother.” Fili knew his uncle well enough to know that he would not change Thorin’s mind, so he shrugged and pulled out his bedroll. It took little time for Fili to drift off, leaving Thorin alone on watch. But he was happy to have this opportunity to watch over his sisters sons, to teach and guide them. They had grown into fine, strong dwarves, and would be capable warriors if need be. Fili especially would be a great leader, something that Thorin hoped he had been. He realized he could be walking into a trap, and if not careful could end up never returning to the Blue Mountains. He had to believe that, should the worst happen his nephews could lead the dwarves of Erid Luin, with guidance from Balin and further training from Dwalin. Feeling fatigued, he rose to awaken his comrade in arms. Dwalin needed no explanation. He nodded and rose quietly to assume the watch, while Thorin once again slept near Magn.


The caravan didn’t awaken until sunrise, which was later than Gloin would have liked. They hurriedly packed up their wagons, anxious to make Dunland before the end of the day. There they would have the opportunity to wash the trail dust away and sleep in warm beds – something everyone wanted to do. Kili especially was looking forward to a break from the dreary travel, and to see other dwarves as well. The weather was sunny and pleasant for the final leg of their journey, the conversation was mostly playful banter. The brown hills of Dunland were becoming visible by noon. Much smaller than the mountains behind them, the hills were dangerously close to both goblins and the wild men, like the ones who attacked two nights ago. And yet the Dunland Dwarves stayed. Kili looked around, wondering what the appeal was. The land was reasonably fertile, fed by streams from the mountains, but Dwarves were not known for farming, and Kili could see no other appeal. He kicked his pony to speed up to Gloin’s wagon. “Why do the Dwarves stay here?”


Gloin shrugged. “Many of them are descended from the Moria Dwarves, and I suppose they like to stay close by.”


“But will they ever be able to return?”


“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Many dwarves died trying to reclaim it. I suppose we won, but the cost was so dear as to make me think it was not worth the price.” Gloin stopped to consider what he just said. “Of course, the Moria dwarves may not feel that way. They may feel it would be worth the cost to return, and if given the chance they will. So I suppose that’s why they stay.”


Thorin heard all this, and although he didn’t speak he understood why the Dunland Dwarves stayed on in an increasingly hostile area. He still remembered Erebor, and would return if it were possible – if only! The words hung in his mind; they were a private shame that he had done so little to make the return possible. The survivors of Erebor had followed him to Erid Luin, for safety and the promise of a good life. He said at the time that he’d rather work the anvil than beg at proud doors, keeping his arms strong until they could wield sharper tools. But would that day ever come?


“Something troubles you.” Thorin glanced at his human companion. “Perhaps you are reconsidering your quest. I would not be angry if you change your mind.”


“My mind is set,” Thorin answered. “Perhaps it is time to give up the safety of the Blue Mountains for the chance to reclaim that which was lost.”


“Are you talking about finding your father, or something else?”


Thorin sighed. “I will find my father, if he is out there. That will be a good start.”


“A good start?” Falconer asked, “A good start for what?”


“For whatever awaits me,” he replied. “Do not worry, my friend. I shall be ready for whatever comes my way.” Thorin squared his shoulders and quickened his pace. “Come, Dunland is ahead. We are almost there.”


As the caravan neared the hills, Kili could make out long homes similar to the one Thorin had built for Dis. It was clear the hills would not be suitable for building the kind of homes dwarves were used to living in, but some had been dug out and secured with timber. Still, there could not be more than 30 dwarves in this area. It seemed a long trip for very little profit, but as Gloin said, they looked out for their own. A large tent was set up in the clearing between the hills. “That is where we’ll be staying,” Gloin explained as he steered his wagon toward the tent. “Tomorrow there will be other dwarves from farther back in these hills [and Dunlending trappers], come to do trade with us. But tonight we will have this place to ourselves.” The merchants secured their wagons and unloaded their merchandise, vying for the best stations outside the tent. Inside the tent there was a long table with a good number of chairs. Some of the Dunlanders were setting up cots along the perimeter of the tent, hanging curtains as they went along. A large oven behind the tent was baking bread and roasting a huge pig. Thorin stood near Gloin, who was talking to some of the Dunlanders. They bowed politely as they introduced themselves, clearly wanting to make a good impression on their guests.


Kili looked around the small village, feeling just a bit disappointed. The Dunland dwarves had so little, yet they seemed so proud of their little village. He wondered what they could possibly have to trade? As he looked up the nearby mountain his brother came up and smacked his arm. “Thorin has been calling you,” Fili said. “We are being summoned.” They hurried to their Uncle’s side.


“And here they are,” Thorin said, adding “finally” under his breath. “May I introduce Fili and Kili, my Sisters’ sons, and my heirs.” Neither of them realized Thorin would introduce them as such, and Kili wished he’d had a chance to wash his face before this introduction. But they bowed politely, receiving some half-dozen bows in return. Each Dunlander appeared to try to outdo the others.


After the introductions an elderly dwarf stepped forward. “Let me show you to your room.” As they followed him the dwarf said, “It’s true we don’t have an Inn, but we will make our guests comfortable. Tonight you will feast on the finest meat and drink the finest ale. Here we are,” he said as he pulled back the curtain with a flourish. Their “room” consisted of two cots placed side by side, topped with a straw mattress and wool blanket. A makeshift washstand stood between the cots. “If there is anything else you should need, please let me know. I am at your service,” he repeated as he backed out, bowing.


Kili waited until he was certain the old dwarf could not hear him. “Gloin was correct,” he said quietly, “this is not nearly so grand as the Blue Mountains.”


Fili shrugged. “No, but these beds are a welcome sight after sleeping on the ground for so long.” He set aside his swords and pack, took off his coat and peeled his shirt off before splashing water on his face. “Besides,” he added as he washed his arms, “neither of us will take watch tonight. And I, for one, look forward to a full night’s sleep. Now, let us get ready.”





One Journey Ended


Kili and Fili came to dinner wearing clean woolen tunics, made from their mother’s yarn. Magn also washed and put on a clean dress for dinner, carefully rebraiding her locks, combing out her beard and decorating both with pearly beads. She had hoped to catch Thorin’s attention, and in fact she did catch the attention of every dwarf in the village. Even Runa and Rota had their share of attention, as there apparently were no dwarf-women in the village. Just as Magn located Thorin, talking to a few older village dwarves, an announcement was made that dinner would be served, and that everyone should come to the table.


Thorin and Gloin were ushered to the head of the table. Dwalin, Fili and Kili sat to Thorin’s right, while some of the merchants sat to Gloin’s left. Magn made it a point to sit on the opposite side of the table, near Thorin. He was speaking to his nephews when he caught sight of her, making him pause. He nodded approvingly before continuing his conversation. Kili and Fili also noticed, both her appearance and their uncle’s reaction, but they knew better than to say anything to Thorin. A village dwarf sat at each end of the table, apparently leaders of the village, and a few more villagers sat on Magn’s side. Mugs of ale were brought out, along with bread and bowls of soup made from mountain vegetables. Finally the roasted pig was brought out, placed in front of the guests of honor. One of the village leaders stood and made a toast to Thorin, Gloin and the merchants, then the pig was carved. While they ate, a small group of villagers came in with musical instruments, and began playing some merry tunes. Another round of ale was brought out, and each dwarf drank his fill – except for Bofur, who drank enough for two dwarves.


After dinner was over, Gloin and most of the other merchants stayed to talk with the villagers, smoking on pipes by the still warm oven. Fili, Kili and Dwalin all wanted to get some sleep, so they returned to their rooms. Thorin approached a slightly nervous Magn. “You look lovely tonight.”


“Thank you.” After an awkward pause she observed, “I don’t see the Ranger – where is he?”


“He is nearby. He did not want to intrude.”


“Well, surely the villagers wouldn’t turn him away?”


“No, but he felt it best not to ask. I suppose he feels more comfortable sleeping under the night sky. Magn, I wanted to ask about your arm. Is it mending?”


“Oh, yes, thank you. One of the villagers checked it and gave me a clean dressing. But the stitches are not quite ready to come out yet.”


“I see. I was instructing my nephews on what to do after I leave, making sure they assist you with whatever you need. Dwalin will also look out for you after I leave.”


“So, you still mean to look for your father?”



“Yes, some in the village have also heard of a wild dwarf roaming nearby, though none have actually seen him. Falconer suggested we check with the [Dunlendings], so we will leave for the Gap early.”


“If you think that is best.” Her heart sank. She realized that she may never see him again. “I will miss you.” She realized too late what she had said. Thorin had a surprised look on his face; she was too bold. “I’m sorry, I meant, um” she stammered, “I need some air.” She rushed shame-faced out of the tent, leaving Thorin where he stood. She ran to the outskirts of the village and leaned against a barricade. “Stupid, stupid,” she repeated, her face wet with tears. After a few minutes she calmed herself and looked around. The clearing was well-lit by the moon, once again a silver orb in the night sky. She noticed a fountain in the center of the village, fed by a mountain stream. She walked over and splashed cold water on her face, blotting with her sleeve.


Soft footsteps came up behind her, and a deep, gentle voice asked, “Are you alright?”


“Yes,” she said, though still too embarrassed to face him. “I am sorry, I spoke out of place.” She shivered a bit from the cold.


Strong hands slid around her shoulders, pulling her against a broad chest. “You needn’t apologize for expressing your feelings. To be honest, I will miss you as well. Now, why don’t you come back inside where it’s warmer?” She turned toward him and was nearly blinded by his bright smile and mesmerizing blue eyes. He stepped back a bit, but his hands lingered on her shoulders for a magical moment; too soon he gestured toward the tent. “Shall we?”


“Of course,” she replied as she walked alongside him. “I suppose you will turn in, get some rest for tomorrow.”


“Yes, I plan to.”


“I will take good care of your pony,” she offered. “You can claim him when you return to Erid Luin.”


“Thank you,” he said before entering the tent. He couldn’t help but look at her face. He smiled. “If it is alright, I would like to call on you when I return.”


Her heart leaped for joy. She wanted to sing out, but fought the urge. “I would like that very much, my Lord.”


“Thorin,” he reminded her.


She smiled warmly. “I would like that very much, Thorin.”


“Until then,” he promised, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips before turning away. He walked slowly to his room, glancing back at her before stepping behind the curtain. She was unable to move before he was out of sight, and stood in place for some time after, trying to deal with the swirl of emotions running through her very being.


“You cannot stand here all night,” a friendly voice told her. Runa had been dancing with some of the villagers, and witnessed the whole event. “You should get some rest. I’m sure he won’t leave tomorrow before saying his goodbyes.” Magn nodded and followed Runa to their quarters. The three dwarf ladies were put up in a corner room, larger than most. Rota was already laying down, though not yet asleep. Runa whispered, “Are you sleeping, sister?”


“No.” Rota turned toward her sister. “Perhaps now that the music has stopped, I can finally sleep.” Indeed the musicians stopped playing when Runa stopped dancing. The three ladies made themselves comfortable on their cots, blew out their candles and drifted to sleep, Magn being the last to slumber.


She awoke to the smell of sausage and jumped out of bed, barely taking time to check her appearance in the mirror before hurrying to breakfast. She saw Dwalin, Fili and Kili were already eating, but Thorin was not with them. She approached Kili cautiously, intending to ask him if Thorin had already left. As soon as he saw her Kili jumped to his feet and pulled out a chair for her on the other side of the table. “Here you go,” he said as she sat down. “Would you like some tea?”


“Yes, thank you.” She watched as Kili hoisted the large kettle and filled a mug with the steeped brew. “I don’t see Thorin,” she began, when Runa suddenly appeared and sat next to her.


“He’s probably outside,” Dwalin answered before turning to the other nephew. “Fili, give your brother a hand. Fetch a mug for Miss Runa here.”


“Why thank you,” she said as Fili rose. Patting Magn’s lap, she leaned over and whispered, “Patience.” The mugs were delivered, and the ladies sipped their tea while waiting for their plates of sausage and eggs, served with flat biscuits. The plates had just arrived when Thorin walked in. He poured himself a mug of tea, then sat next to Magn and across from Dwalin. Magn noticed Kili wore a huge, cheeky grin on his face – so this was his plan! He had to turn away to keep from snickering. Fili landed a not-so-subtle elbow in his brother’s ribs. Kili suppressed the grin for a bare moment before it came back, a little less obvious this time. Magn noticed Runa was smiling as well; was she in on this?


Dwalin rolled his eyes at the brother’s antics. Getting down to business he addressed Thorin. “So, you and the Ranger are leaving us. When would that be?”


“Soon. Some dwarves from the Gap are coming. I will speak to them before I leave.” He tilted his head and drained the mug, wiping his mouth before turning to Magn. “They tell me a fair number are coming. You may sell all your pottery today.”


“I would like that,” she replied, “but then what would I do tomorrow?”


“Rest up,” he suggested, “and take care of your arm.”


“And your pony,” she quickly added.


“I’m certain you will,” he said with a smile, “and you might keep an eye on this one.” He gestured to Kili. “Give him plenty to do, to keep him out of trouble.”


“Who, me?” Kili looked confused.


“Not to worry,” Dwalin cut in, “we still have much training to do.” The brothers looked at each other with slight disappointment.


A village dwarf approached and whispered something to Thorin. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “They have arrived. I must be going.” Thorin stood before adding, “Remember, Dwalin is in charge. Do whatever he says.”


Fili asked, “We are still to meet in Bree?”


“Yes,” Thorin replied, “once you get the merchants safely back to Erid Luin.” He was looking at Magn as he spoke. He felt a strong urge to touch her hair, but restrained himself. He had to leave, the sooner the better. “Until then,” he said, more to Magn than anyone else. He turned and walked out of the tent, glancing back briefly before stepping out of sight.


Magn watched him leave, her gaze remaining on the tent’s entrance long after he was gone. Finally Runa leaned toward her and said, “You should eat that before it gets cold.” Magn realized she had barely taken a bite of food. She turned back to her plate, but found she wasn’t all that hungry. Still, it would be wrong to waste it. She forced her food down, barely hearing the conversation going on around her.


She kept quite busy the rest of the day, setting up her table and bartering with the stream of dwarves that came by. Apparently there were more dwarves in Dunland than she realized, living in small enclaves in the foothills or in the Gap itself. There were even a few lady dwarves in Dunland, who took great interest in Magn’s pottery. She sold most of her wares by mid-day, which left her too much time to wander around the small village. She entertained herself for a time by watching Kili and Fili practice sparring with each other, while hearing Dwalin’s gruff voice calling out commands. She then returned to her table, took one of her unsold plates, and began etching a design into it.


The evening dinner was much less festive than the previous night, still there was plenty of food. Gloin explained that they would stay one more night after this. “There won’t be as many customers tomorrow, but we should all be able to do some additional trade tomorrow.”


Magn heard Dwalin speak to his two charges. “You’ll have a chance to rest up tomorrow, before our return journey.”


“So, that means no training.” Kili asked hopefully.


“That means there won’t be as much training.” Dwalin rarely smiled, but he couldn’t help it as he looked at Kili’s disappointment. “Aye, your arms are sore now, but think how much stronger you’ll be when we return to Erid Luin.” Kili didn’t find that much consolation.


The next day Magn sold the last of her pottery, keeping only the plate she was decorating. Runa and Rota also sold the last of their goods, however Bifur and Bofur didn’t sell any toys. Apparently there were no dwarf children in Dunland. After much arguing, Bifur finally persuaded Bofur to part with some of his ale and pipeweed. It was a good thing, as Gloin hadn’t presented the bill for their expenses yet. Gloin purchased some food supplies for their return trip, and advised everyone to be packed up and ready to go come sunrise. Once the caravan crosses the Greyflood they would turn due west and make for the Southern Range. It would be a shorter trip, he promised.


Kili caught up with Magn at their last dinner in Dunland. “So, you did quite well with your pottery?”


“Yes I did.” He noticed she was still holding one plate. “And how are you feeling, young Sir? Hopefully Dwalin didn’t push you too hard.”


“Well, his idea of ‘too hard’ and mine are a bit different.” He smiled. “Still, we’re done for the evening, and I for one would like another ale.”


She giggled. “I’m sure you deserve it.” She put aside her etching tool, blew on the plate and batted the dust away. “For you,” she said as she handed it to him, “a memento of your first big adventure.”


Kili held the plate to a light, amazed at what he saw. “It’s the firemoon! Thank you! You are an amazing artist!”


“You are most welcome, and I’m glad you like it.” It pleased her that he appreciated her gift. She beamed with pride.


“I will treasure this always,” he added. “Join me for that ale?”


“I would love to.”


They returned to the table, where a keg of ale awaited. Kili sat the plate down carefully before filling two mugs. “So, what should we drink to?”


“To you, my lord Kili,” she replied. “May this be the first of many fine adventures!”



The End



If the girl in the illustration is an Elf then she must be either a child or the shortest Elf-woman in Middle-earth.

The Dwarves would not find any Rohirrim west of the Misty Mountains, much less at the Ford of Tharbad. The Dunlendings hate the Men of Rohan and would never tolerate their presence.

Men from nearby Enedwaith might come up the Greyflood to Tharbad to fish and catch fowl; hunters and bandits from Dunland might also visit the region. The idea of a ferry service at Tharbad is interesting, but I don't know that there would be enough traffic to make it worthwhile.

"At the end of the journey, all men think that their youth was Arcadia..." - Phantom F. Harlock


Kilidoescartwheels
Valinor


Mar 3 2015, 6:29pm

Post #13 of 13 (4250 views)
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Thanks for the input [In reply to] Can't Post

"If the girl in the illustration is an Elf then she must be either a child or the shortest Elf-woman in Middle-earth." - LOL, good point! I didn't think about her possibly being a hobbit, I just really like the picture.

"Men from nearby Enedwaith might come up the Greyflood to Tharbad to fish and catch fowl; hunters and bandits from Dunland might also visit the region. The idea of a ferry service at Tharbad is interesting, but I don't know that there would be enough traffic to make it worthwhile." The ferry service is probably not one of my better ideas, it was just all I could come up with at the time. I thought about having them come from Gondor, but that seems awfully far away, didn't know about Enedwaith.

I still like the idea of Gloin trading with what few Dwarves were left in Dunland, from what I've gathered Dwarves in general tend to stick to their own race and want to support each other. And I confess that from what I've read of the Dunlandings, it's hard to picture them having much money to pay any such Dwarves for blacksmithing, although they would probably have animals and furs, as you suggested, to barter with. I got the idea from TTT that the Rohirrim regularly patroled the Gap region, so it seems reasonable to me that any Dunland dwarves would also have contact with them. But whether they'd be skilled enough negotiators to be able to deal with both Dunlandings and Rohirrim is another subject - they would probably have to choose one over the other.

Why yes, I DO look like Anna Friel!

 
 

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