That's Another Story For Later

Seeing Double

He smiled. "I still want to figure out that twinkle in his eyes. I can't describe it. But it's there, and I want to know what it is." I murmured. Again Fili smirked.

"Now that's a story he'll have to tell you." He winked teasingly. I glared playfully, pushing him in the arm. Another small silence fell. I smiled, and looked the dwarf in the eyes.

"Thank you Fee, for being here. For looking out for me, like a brother." I said. Said dwarf reached out, pulling me in for a hug. It was brotherly. I leaned into it, returning it.

"You're like a sister to me. While I admit you're very beautiful, and there's many qualities to admire, that's my reason to keep you safe. Well it is, but not like that. Because you're like my sister, I don't want to see you hurt. And I know Kili would kill me if I didn't." I blushed lightly at his words.

"Why's Kili so rash all the time?"

"Kili was teased when he was younger, and even now, for not really being able to grow a beard. I think it's because of the part that's part elf as well."

"But why does growing a beard matter? I've been living with a dwarf and around them for 65 years, and I've never figured out why facial hair mattered."

"It's a defining feature of us dwarves, and something that we all take pride in. We love our beards, and we try and grow them out. Kili can't really grow much more than a stubble, which makes him different, and often he gets teased for it."

"It shouldn't matter. He's a dwarf through and through. He's as stubborn as you lot, and as good a fighter. The fact he can't grow a beard shouldn't matter."

"Does it matter to you?" Fili said curiously.

"Not at all. If anything, it adds to his charm. I can't imagine him with a beard."

"Me either." Fili agreed. "But he'll keep trying. It'll all be in vain."

My head started to hurt again, and I tried to push away the thoughts of the visions. A small wince left my lips. "Iridian?" Fili said, pushing onto his knees.

"I don't want to go again." I groaned through a clenched jaw. Fili looked at me dead on.

"Just go. I'll be right here." He said. The dizziness grew stronger, and I succumbed to whatever was waiting for me. I leaned against the dwarf. "I'll be right here." He said again before I was rushed off into another world again.

                                                                                              ~ ~ ~

"Your pride will be your downfall." Gandalf said. Thorin's expression was unreadable, while Balin looked between the two. "You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond." Lord Elrond looked down, and Bilbo looked away. Thorin paused, before taking the map out of his breast pocket.

"Thorin no." Balin said, going to hold out a hand. Thorin stopped him. Elrond opened the map, examining it for a moment.

"Erebor?" He looked at the dwarf king curiously. "What is your interest In this map?" Thorin opened his mouth to answer, when Gandalf interrupted him.

"It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" The Elvish lord walked a little bit away, looking at the map. Moonlight slanted through the waterfall, shining on the map. Elrond's eyes widened in realization.

"Cirth Ithil." He said softly.

"Moon runes." Gandalf repeated in the common tongue. "Of course. An easy thing to miss."

"Well in this case, that is true; Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon with the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." Elrond explained.

"Can you read them?" A little hope seeped into Gandalf's voice. The Elf led them into an open area outside, near the side of a large cliff, two waterfalls cascading in front of them. He continued watching until he reached a large crystalline table.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight." They all looked up, and watched the clouds covering the moon float away, rays of moonlight passing through the waterfalls and hitting the table. Light flowed through the map, and blue runes shone against the map, ones that weren't there before.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole." He read.

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo said.

"It is the dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together." Gandalf elaborated.

"This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us." Thorin said.

"We still have time." Balin claimed.

"Time? For what?" Bilbo was a very confused Hobbit.

"To find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened." Balin said.

"So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain." Elrond said in realization.

"What of it?" Thorin accused.

"There are some who would not deem is wise." Elrond warned. Thorin took back the map, none to kindly.

"Who do you mean?" Gandalf inquired.

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth." Elrond said cryptically. Elrond walked away, and Gandalf turned around slowly, his brows furrowed deep in thought.

Before I could even awake, unconsciousness took me once again, unwillingly.

                                                                                         ~ ~ ~

A Warg howl was the first thing I heard. The Orc from earlier was there, as well as his surviving Wars scouts. He was quite ugly, his face scrunched. Many other Orcs and Wargs were crowding around, lounging I suppose one could call it. A huge white Warg growled at the approaching Orc. It was approaching a huge hulking pale mass. It was the Pale Orc.

The Orc who approached started to speak in a harsh tone. I sounded like sandpaper against clay, glass shards, nothing but thorns in the voice. It stabbed my brain unpleasantly, making me wince. "Khozdayin... Dorguz... zuranimid." It sounded roughly like that. I didn't understand.

"Sha nargiz ob-hakhtil... Nargiz khobodi.... Rani Khozdil!" The Pale Orc said, turning again. His left arm, which Thoirn had cut off in the Battle of Moria, was now replaced, with a metal hand, it was crude, and sharp.

"Murgarnish dum... Turim hag shad. Zorzor go- kairaz obguraniz." It sounded almost like an excuse, or an explanation of some sort.

"Ki go-kairag baganig. Ombar bunish!" Azog started to stroke the Orc's head with the hand that wasn't metal. His left hand shot out, wrapping his hand around the Orc's throat, hoisting him in the air. Azog let out a roar, throwing the Orc against the pillars to the side of where they were staying. Wargs lunged at him, growling. The Orc let out a horrible scream as the Wargs killed him. He went silent, the Wargs enjoying their dinner.

"Khozd-shrakhun gud sha kilyahs-sag." He growled, in what seemed like a command. The rest of the remaining Orcs leapt onto their Orcs, running off, to do whatever they were being asked to do.