Little Fili and Kili Stories (In-Editing)

- The Original Little Fili and Kili stories - 
In the progress of editing (four years on)

The Return of Dis

The Blue Mountains were silent. So deeply felt was the loss at Moria, that even the birds of yore refused to sing. The ancient caverns were thick with the copper taste of blood and provided little comfort, as the shroud of night closed in.

A once dwarf prince hovered at the entrance of this desolate mountain realm. Gone were the days of his youth, and instead he stood a wearied man. A thick grime of dirt and blood swathed his armour, and his dark blue eyes were brimmed red. How fall the mighty, a philosopher would chastise, and yet in every breath he took, his drowsy eyes refused to surrender to exhaustion and accept defeat.

The battle had been won, but at such a cost. His grandfather was dead. The King butchered on the battlefield, beheaded and defiled by none other than the pale orc. His father, Thrain, was gone as well. Taken prisoner or killed, the young prince had searched for hours but to no avail.

The body of his younger brother had been brought to him in the aftermath of the battle. There were no marks or scratches on the boy's face, it was almost as if death had been kind to him. With his eyes closed, one could be mistaken in thinking Frerin was only resting. But it was not the case; the young dwarf prince had desperately clung onto the body of his younger brother but there were no tears left to shed.

And so he stood, and watched the wagons drew closer. An envoy from the Iron Hills, surely his sister travelled with them. As soon as the wagons came to a halt, a young dwarf woman with a mane of dark locks raced towards him.

"Thorin!" She exclaimed, heavily embracing him. Tears leaked from her crystal clear eyes, and when she spoke her voice cracked, "it cannot be true. Is Grandfather dead? Is the King gone?"

At first Thorin did not speak, he just held her closer. And then, as she looked up at him he told her. There was little he could do, as she sobbed into his chest. No words could comfort her or yield her hopeful, their family had been utterly desolated.

"It's just us left," he softly told her. "We are the last of our line, there are no others." And then she ceased the sobs shook her every breath, and allowed her tear-brimmed eyes to meet his. In silence, she took his battle-stained hand and placed it against the curve of her belly.

"That is not entirely true..." She whispered to him. His eyes widened and for the first time since the battle, a surge of disbelief flashed across his eyes. Rare were dwarf children, rarer still in times such as these. And like an oasis drowned by a desert, his sister had gifted him what he thought impossible. A chance for a new family, a new legacy to his broken line.

"You are with child?" He asked her, his voice cracking at the mere thought of it.

"Yes, my dear brother I am." A sad smile pulled at her lips. "I didn't tell him before the battle, and now my beloved is broken."

Thorin raised his eyebrow. "It was my belief he only suffered minor injuries. Surely that does not constitute such sadness."

"No." She placed her hand over Thorin's chest. "He's broken in here. As are you all."