Chapter 10

Originally posted on: 13th February 2014

Slight Thilbo Bagginshield!

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‘It’s high time us to escape,’ Dorian thought.

The flames were spreading everywhere around, chaos had prevailed.

Firstly, he needed to get out of bondages. He and his sister were gagged. Their arms were linked and legs were tied to the saddle. He had nothing to cut the thick ropes with.

The fire did this for him. Dorian neared his tied hands to the nearby burning branch. The rope began to overheat and Dorian finally tore it. Then, he burned a cord on Sybil’s hands.

Their warg sarted going round anxiously. He had become mad as well. He had broken away from Gorbag’s dark mount long ago​​. Orc seemed not to care. He worried more about his own skin than the prisoners’.

Indeed, things got dangerous. The fire was pressing from all sides. Dorian released his mouth.

“You know how to drive this thing?” he whispered into his sister’s ear, the girl sitting in front of him.

She broke the gag out of her mouth.

“ I’ll try,” she said. She slapped her heels into the warg’s sides.

The beast leapt and escaped from the fire ring.

Excitement overtook Dorian. They could run away, just at this very moment!

But then he saw it.

Thorin was running towards Azog with raised Orcrist.

Flames had made ​​him look amazing. He was radiating with power and wrath.

‘And bloody oaken shield, of course,’ Dorian thought, noticing what the Dwarf was holding in his other hand.

Thorin couldn’t stand a chance, it was obvious.

Dorian let out a cry of pain and despair, helplessly watching as his King was recieving grave blows, fighting in the unequal duel.

“THORIN, IF YOU DIE, THEN I WILL KILL YOU!”  Sybil yelled, her voice cracking.

Everything was happening like in slow motion, as if to intentionally sink in so painfully.

'Hohoho, someone appreciates themselves here,' Dorian said in his mind as Azog commanded his subordinate to bring him the dwarf’s head. Pale Olc clearly didn't consider himself  as an ordinary thug. He didn't dabbled in shearing heads like a normal executioner.

Dorian snorted at this discovery. The inflaming liquor which the orc had been treating him with, had restored him a clarity of mind, but had not improved his well-being, not at all. Despite the horrendous headache, he was able to keep in the saddle by himself and clearly see the surrounding reality.

How much he would give to be unconscious now!

When the orc raised his sword to behead his King, Dorian realized that his world had ended.

Help came, of course, from the least expected direction.

***

Bilbo stood up, pulled out his little sword and gathered all the courage he could find in his heart.

Thorin couldn't die. He couldn't. Bilbo had to save him, he had to.

A life of such a simple hobbit like him is worth much less than the life of such a wonderful, dignified dwarf. Bilbo may sacrifice his own.

Besides, world without Thorin Oakenshield was not the world which Bilbo would like to continue to exist in.

In the end, he thought about Sybil and Dorian. Wherever they were now, their mission couldn't misfire.

That was enough.

He started to feel fear only when he had found himself alone against the Pale Orc, mounting the White Warg.

Help came, of course, from the least expected direction.

***

When the eagles had come, taking the body of his unconscious King, he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt emptiness. He was indifferent to if he would whether die or survive.

Why did it matter, since Thorin had probably died?

Probably.

                                                                

“Dorian, we can’t give up now. We need to know if this bloody idiot is still alive or not,”  Sybil said urgently. “If it turns out that he still lives, then I swear, I will punch him in that handsome face of his.”

“Tempting,” Dorian answered. He understood his sister’s bitterness. On the other hand, he also understood why Thorin had attacked Azog. Dorian himself wanted to do it all the time. He would chop the Pale Orc into pieces with his sword ...

“Sword ... Sybil, the sword! Where is it?!” he asked frantically. “I’m not going anywhere without it!”

“Gorbag ​​ has it,” his sister grunted. “Like all of our stuff. He didn’t even touch the backpacks, daggers, my quiver and bow, because…” she snorted. “’They stink like elves’. He tied them to his saddle. The sword is on his back. He even changed the steath, because yours was elfish.”

Dorian shuddered in disgust at the thought that he would have to touch Gorbag​​.

“Make him regret this.”

They moved and began to look for the orc in the general madness. Dorian was looking around carefully, at the same time wondering whence the hell Sybil knew how to ride a warg.

“There he is! On the third hour. He's running away!” he shouted as soon as he noticed Gorbag​​.

Sybil immediately turned around and headed the beast that way.

They drove up to Gorbag ​​from behind. Orc had heard them too late to react accordingly. Dorian tore his sword from Gorbarg's back. Then, they  passed him. Sybil turned the warg and now they were running straight at him. The dun beast jumped up, knocking the orc out of his saddle. The black warg got into a fight with Weakling, but Dorian struck him with the sword in the stomach. Gorbag’s mount ​​slumped with a pathetic whine. Orc rose to his feet but was pinned to the ground with the dun warg's forepaws. Dorian cut the chains tying him to the saddle. He jumped down, walked up to the black carcass, twitching with convulsions, and quickly passed her sister her backpack, bow, quiver and dagger, he also took all of his stuff. He even regained the stealth from Elrond.

He approached Gorbag​​. He wanted to behead him when he reminded himself how the orc had been beating Sybil.

“Dorian, there’s no time, we have to run,” she said quickly, guessing her brother’s intentions.

“But ...”

“No buts, get in!”

Neither he thought. He must kill him first...

A burning tree collapsed nearby.

“NOW!” she roared.  

Before he listened to her, he scratched the hideous Gorbag’s ​​phiz lightly. 

“YOU WILL REGRET THIS, TRAITORS!” they heard a distant scream as they were driving ahead blindly.   

***

When he opened his eyes, he saw the wizard’s anxious face.

“Halfling?”

“It’s all right,” Gandalf replied with a small smile. “Bilbo is here, he’s quite safe.”

As he got up, he felt full of pain and anger. Anger due to the fact that Azog was alive and had almost killed him.

But above it all, he was angry with himself. How could he? How could he judge Bilbo so harshly? How dared he think of him as a pathetic weakling? How dared he think of it as a big mistake?

Perhaps this rage and physical pain had made that he spoke in such a tone.

“You ... What are you doing? You know you nearly got yourself killed? Did I not say that you would be a burden ... that you will not survive in the wild ... that you have no place amongst  us." He saw the pain drawing on Hobbit’s features at these unjust accusations.

How would he recompense him everything? He had been so wrong.

“I’ve never been so wrong, in all my life.”

The fact that he hugged Bilbo was an impulse.

He had no idea how else could he express his boundless gratitude.

How else could he apologize to him.

How else to show that he holds Bilbo in the highest regard.

***

Bilbo was in shock, nothing more, nothing less. He could not believe what was happening.

King Under the Mountain had just hugged him.

Such a happiness was filling him. Bilbo indeed realized how great honor that was.

Moreover, he wondered... if Thorin too...

When the dwarf pulled away, Hobbit looked out for a sign in the King’s face, anything that would confirm his stupid, naïve hope ...

But Thorin only spoke in unusual for him, kind tone.  

“I'm sorry that I doubted you.”

What could he say to that?

“No, I would have doubted me, too. I'm not a hero, nor a warrior ... not even a burglar.”

His king smiled so lovely and warmly.

As he was looking at the Lonely Mountain looming in the distance, Bilbo thought that maybe he would like adventures.

***

Weakling was splashing water all around them, wading across the stream.

What amazed her the most was that the beast still reamined obedient. Tough the haggard warg had to reel of exhaustion. He had been running incessantly all night long, carrying her and Dorian through the dangerous mountain paths. She forced the beast to enter the water to make Azog lost their trail, just in case if he still was interested in them.  

Suddenly, Weakling stopped short.

‘Oho, it begins,’ she thought. But the warg, instead of starting to revolt, sniffed anxiously.

He began to whine and pull back slowly.

She did not understand his behavior until she noticed a huge black bear sneaking around nearby trees.

‘Wonderful.’

The bear jumped out of the woods and started running straight at them.

She turned Weakling and hastened him.

Unfortunately, they had no chance to escape. She heard the patter of large paws right behind them.

“Dorian, jump!” she screamed.

Brother ​​immediately did what she had ordered. She did the same after a few seconds.

It stayed undecided if the bear had spotted them - the only thing what it did was to jump at Weakling.

The forest was close. Sybil rushed to Dorian, the boy staring at the fighting beasts, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the trees. She noticed a suitable willow. She run up to it together with her brother.

“Get in there, ”she said urgently.

When they found themselves at a safe height, she stopped and saw that the bear was holding the warg’s throat. Weakling was struggling faintly for a moment, then ceased moving for good.

Sybil saddened. Somehow, she had grown fond of the warg.

As she realized this, she wondered if everything was all right with her head.

She was also a little relieved that someone had killed Weakling first.

The bear was sniffing around the flesh of its defeated opponent for a long time.

After that, it started walking towards them. And, what was shocking, it began to change.

A huge man stood under the willow.

“Get down and tell me your story,” he said. “And you better pray it to be interesting.”

The rightest thing that they could do was to fulfill Beorn's wish.

So they went down. And told him everything, starting with the Thorin's arrival at Ettinor. About how they had become friends with the heirs of Durin. About the dwarves’ sudden departure. The attack on their village. About the exile. About how they had discovered the Azog’s conspiracy. How they had had to choose between espionage or death. How they had been the Company’s shadows. The hospitality in Imladris. As they had been captured (again). As they had  fled. How they had come here. They hadn't  hide anything important from the skin-changer. They had kept for themselves only the details of their stay in Rivendell. They knew Beorn only from the stories of others. And as far as they were concerned, if they didn't want to get killed, it was better not to deceive him.

“Ha! It was a good story! Very interesting!” Beorn exclaimed.  “If what you say is true, I have to admit that you’re extraordinary ... You claimed that you had killed a lot of orcs and hated Azog the Defiler ... Well, you can shelter in my house and stay there for some time. My animals will take care of you. I concluded from your storytelling that you know the area quite well, so you should get there without a problem. Meanwhile, I’m setting off to hunt down the Pale Orc. I also have a score to settle with him.” He changed into the bear again and disappeared.

It was dark when they began to approach the Wooden Manor.

They had encountered Azog’s band on their way. Of course.

They had took a refuge in a tree, waiting, begging Elbereth for the orcs not to scent them.

Then, a messenger had come.

“They are gathering in Dol Guldur,” he said to Azog. “The Master has summoned you!”

Sybil had always been good at learning new languages. Maybe there was nothing glorious in the knowledge of Black Speech, but ...

 As the orcs were receding, only those words were whirling in her mind.

They are gathering in Dol Guldur. The Master has summoned you …

The Master has summoned you

But not that Master ...

“Make your choices carefully,” Elrond had said.

It was the very moment when they had to seriously consider what to do.

Find Thorin or go further.

Because there was only one place where they could go with the information about the Master of Dol Guldur.

THE END OF TOME I

Chapter 9

Originally posted on: 13th February 2014

We have a bit of translation problem here.
It's all about an abbreviation. The thing is, first letters of words in the phrase "Dorian and Sybil" equals "Das".
However, as this fic was originally written in Polish, I did a trick which I'm not able to repeat here.
You see, in Polish, the letter "i" means "and".
So, "Dorian and Sybil" is in Polish - "Dorian i Sybil".
And ... "Dorian i Sybil" equals "Dis"! The name of Fili and Kili's mother! I discovered it long after naming my characters and it was pretty funny. So I took advantage of it. But I have no idea how to solve the problem in English. So I let it be. "Dis" stays. You've been warned.

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Thorin was fighting fiercely with a sleep embracing him.

He had decided that he would find out what his nephews were up to this time, at all costs.

Since the Company had set out from Rivendell, these two had been volunteering to take a watch every night.

This was not normal for them.

Moreover, he couldn't squeeze out of them anything about the two young people for all the world.

Minutes were dragging on mercilessly, and there was only calm silence all around him.

Thorin almost gave up, he practically fell asleep when he heard Kili’s whisper.

“Do you think that everyone’s asleep?”

“I have no idea. I pray to Aulë for that,” Fili answered.  

Something new! Fili prayed!

What Thorin heard in the next moment, utterly surprised him.

An arrow buried in the ground somewhere nearby.

“Finally!” Kili sighed.

Thorin heard one of the dwarves getting up and going in the direction of the arrow. Then, he came back. Thorin could hear the rustle of parchment, and a moment later there was a quiet laughter.

“What? What did they say?” Fili whispered impatiently.

“Read it yourself,” his younger brother giggled.

How much it costed Thorin to pretend to be asleep!

After a short time Fili chuckled softly.

“Where do you have a pen and ink?” he asked.  

There was the sound of digging in a backpack.

“Great. Now, what will we write back?” the older of the brothers questioned.

“Hmm ... Maybe ... They won’t win this battle, and if they still insist, they'll have to deal with us...”

“Good,”  Fili muttered and Thorin could hear the sound of writing on parchment.

“Well, and everything as usual; that we all are doing well, we miss them, we need to meet as soon as possible ...”

“Yes, yes ... Oh, we have to add that tomorrow we won’t contact them.”

“Surely,” Kili agreed.  “Let me write the ending,” he added.  

“Okay,” Fili said reluctantly.

“Menu gamut khed, Dis,” the younger dwarf whispered, likely writing what he was saying.

You are a wonderful person, Dis? What was this, for the love of Mahal? Thorin was dying of curiosity ... On the other hand, he didn't want his nephews to discover that he is not sleeping. He felt like a spy.

A bowstring twanged.

“I think it landed where it should ..." Kili murmured, then he yawned.

“Our watch is over,” Fili stated.

“Yeah, it's time to wake up Ori and Nori.”

Before Thorin had fallen asleep, he thought that from now on his sister-sons cannot wriggle out of explanations.

***

Menu gamut khed, DiS.

Dorian smiled. They always wrote this at the end.

It was pretty funny-"Dorian and Sybil" equaled "DiS", just like Fili and Kili’s mother’s name.

Menu tessu, Fili.     Menu tessu, Kili.

He and Sybil always end their message like that.

You are everything, Fili.      You are everything, Kili.

It had been Sybil who had come up with the idea of flying letters.

As they had been saying their goodbies to their dwarven brothers, before they had left Imladris, they had explained to them their new way of communication. When it was certain that Fili and Kili had a watch, the dwarves would get an arrow with the message. They would read it and write off on the other side of the parchment, then shoot it away in the direction as consistent as possible with that the arrow had flown from.

This idea was quite risky. The arrow may have missed its mark among a stone passages. Or hit it too well in the darkness. In addition, it was wrapped in the parchment and that decreased its flight quality. However, flying letters had been working so far. They were much more convenient than the weekly meetings. Moreover, they were using sort of code in their communication. If someone undesirable read the note, they wouldn't understand a lot. This form of communication, unfortunately, was not sufficient to satisfy the longing. Not after what they had gone through in Rivendell.

Dorian saddened. He reminded himself as he and his sister had departed thence. A lot of friends had come to say goodbye to them - Ireth, Lindir, Arien, Fingwid, Merenwen, Nessa, Dinendal, Culnamo ... and many others. Even Lord Elrond.

“Farewell, Dorian. Farewell, Sybil,” he had said. “Make your choices carefully - that is only advice I give you. Now go, and let the blessing of all the elves accompany you. May the stars enlighten you from the sky above!”

Looking at The Last Homely House, shining with shimmering lights among the night falling down at the world, Dorian had wondered what was so special about he and his sister. Elrond  hadn't been the first powerful ruler who favored  them greatly.

Or maybe all the elves were like that?

They had been given a large stocks of food not bothering in the backpacks, warm clothes and blankets, waterproof capes, equipment for climbing the mountains and lots of some good advice. In addition, they had been gifted with a one, beautiful dagger for each of them. Sybil also got a quiver full of excellent arrows, and Dorian got an magnificent steath for his sword.

They would never be able to repay it.

He glanced at his sister. She sat hunched, staring into the darkness with unseeing eyes. She missed him, the most likely. Dorian didn't want to interfere in what had happened between her and Fili on the shortest night of the year. He only guessed that it had been something serious. They had kissed for goodbye.

In the next morning, they set out to be the shadows once again. They did not speak much. They were focused on not getting  too close to the Company and on looking out for any signs of orcs and goblins presence. There had been no one so far. Only the wind howled between the rocks ruthlessly. As the storm began to rage, traveling had become very difficult. However, as of course it always can be worse, a battle of stone giants unleashed. Hell seemed to have no end.

When they thought that soon, the whole world would crash on their heads or they would fall into the abyss, everything stopped.

But there was no reason to be happy.

In their madness, the stone giants had collapsed the way that dwarves had paced, with huge boulders. Dorian and Sybil were seemingly barred away from the Company for good. 

The hopelessness reached them. All day, they had been wandering around, trying to get through this shambles. In the end, they gave up, and sat on the ground. As the tears began to gather in their eyes, they heard screams of orcs.

Something hit Dorian in the back of his head. He fell into the darkness and didn't remember anything else.

***

 The whip lashed her back. She felt the hot blood flowing over it.

“Move, traitor!”

‘If you were tied to the warg and had to keep up on foot, you would die a long time ago,’ she thought, but she didn't dare to say it out loud.

She stumbled and fell. The whip hit her before she had had a chance to get up.

“Watch where you're going!”

'No.' She could not look. She could not open her eyes. If so, she would see Dorian, unconscious, flipped over the saddle of the warg, as if the boy were a hunted deer.

The sight caused ​​her an indescribable pain. She could not bear it.

They knew that very well.

She was struck with the whip for the third time.

“Azog!” Gorbag yelled. “This wench drags on too much! Those traitors only slow us down! Why don’t you kill them right away?!”

Pale Orc rode up on his White Warg to Gorbag, who was mounting the black beast​​. Sybil was pulled by her dun warg. Immediately, the creature began to whine and cower. It was always doing it when it was near the White Warg.

“You know why they are still alive,” Azog said. "Killing them would be only a grace. It’s your responsibility to make them not to slow us down. But if they did, YOU will regret that.”

Azog wanted to leave, but the White Warg had stopped listening to commands. Instead, it stared at Sybil hard, growling. Pale Orc slipped from the saddle. He stroked his beast on the head, and then looked at the girl with a devilish grin.

“My friend is clearly fond of you, traitor.”

She almost snorted. 'Friend!' she thought. 'That should be nominated as the joke of the year!'

She stared straight into the eyes of the albino warg. Why was she not afraid? Though it was insane. She was filled only with hatred and disgust.

“But I’m not fond of him,” she replied.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!” Azog roared, and threw her into the air with a swat of his hand. She fell  three meters away with a loud bang. The rope did not prevented for more.

‘That hurt,’ she thought, but did not even moan. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

White Warg had jumped up and snapped its jaws, trying to catch her. When it failed, it attacked his dun serf in anger, biting it in the leg. The haggard warg hadn;t even defended, and began to run instead. Dorian fell from the saddle, and Sybil was dragged along the ground for a few yards. Pale Orc mounted his "friend" and drove to the front of the column. Gorbag ​​urged the miserable warg to go back to the rest, and Sybil ran with him. She started heading towards Dorian, the boy lying limply. To her surprise, dun beast did the same.

She took a brother in her arms with a great effort.

‘When he has become so heavy?’

“Sybil?” he groaned.

“Ssh ... they captured us.”

“Again?”

“Pretend that you're unconscious,” she whispered and flipped him over the saddle.

She looked at the beast which she was fated to. Smaller than the others, bony, with a thin fur and as if milder. It seemed that the rest were bulling him.

‘Weakling,’ She thought. 'Yes, I'll call you Weakling.'

She tried very hard to keep up pace with Weakling, the beast continuously running. The rest of the wargs gang were moving very quickly and nimbly. They were rushing through the hard stone pathways restlessly.

“Faster, traitor!” Gorbag ​​roared as she toppled for the uncounted time.

“So let me ride a warg, damn it!” She replied. “I can walk more slowly, you know? I can resist with all the strength of my arms and legs ... I can slow us down soooo much. Guess what Azog would do then ...”

She got another stroke with the whip, this time it had hit her shoulder.

“Fine,” he snapped. “You will mount that misery which your cowardly brother hangs over. And if you tried any tricks, guess where I would have the orders ...”

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “Deal”.

She sat semiconscious Dorian in front of her, while Gorbag ​​tied Weakling to his warg. When he mounted the black beast, the whip lashed girl’s back.

“You love it, don’t you?” she hissed, writhing in pain.

“Shut up and move,” he answered.

Riding Weakling was a nightmare. Sybil constantly feared that Dorian would slip out of the saddle. He sat before her, his head tottering, and he was mumbling something under his breath from time to time.

But the worst was what everyone else was saying. That the traitors were still alive.

Still.

***

“Bring the traitors,” he ordered.

He did not have to wait long. After a while they were kneeling in front of him, gagged, with tied arms and legs. The boy looked pathetically - perhaps he had been hit in the head too hard. He was looking around with the half-conscious, confused eyes. He would probably faint if his lads weren't treated him with the liquor.

But this girl ... she was driving him mad. EVERYONE whom Azog directed his gaze at were scared to death. She wasn't. She glared at him with anger and disdain. When he had seen her, he immediately had wanted to cut her head off. He had barely stopped himself.

He would play with this traitor. As Oakenshield and his nephews would be finished off, he was going to kill her brother very slowly and painfully, and force her to look at all of it. And when the would boy be dead, Azog would torture the girl. He would make her love him and hate him. Desire him and be afraid of him. She would be under his control until the end her miserable life.

He was savoring that vision for a moment, and then he spoke.

.  

“I’m sure you wonder, traitors, why I didn’t kill you right away. Well, a thirst of murder overwhelms me at your very sight. But ... there’s something that would be more cruel than killing you ... I received a message from the Great Goblin ... he captured Oakenshield and twelve other dwarves. He’d like to provide me the leader's head for the appropriate payment. But I thought to myself then, that I had to see the death of this stinking heir of Durin on my own eyes. And suddenly, you two showed up. And since then I have a dilemma - you will die on his eyes, after he finds out how much you have done for him, or should it be Oakenshield who loses a head first, and you will be able only to watch ...”

He burst out laughing at the sight of traitors’ expressions and felt pure pleasure at the sound of their cry of despair.

______________________________

Kuzdul:

Menu gamut khed - you are a wonderful person.

Menu tessu - you are everything.

We have Gorbag​ here​, the same who we know from The Lord of the Rings.

Because I thought... why not?

Chapter 8

Originally posted on: 13th February 2014

Slight Thilbo Bagginshield!

___________________________

Kili was sitting on the ground, leaning back against Sybil’s legs. The lass was sitting on the bench and he was watching in awe as Fili was teaching Dorian fighting with two swords.

“One, two. Contra,” the blond commanded. “Three, four. Defend yourself!”

“Just like old times,” Kili said.

Dorian laughed when he heard this and was about to say something, but Fili hit his fingers with a blade. The boy jumped back with a cry, and Kili burst out laughing. Fili was a strict and demanding teacher.

“Dorian, focus!” he exclaimed.

Kili laughed at Dorian mercilessly, but suddenly Sybil tugged at his hair.

“Stop fidgeting, Kee,” she snapped. “I'm almost done.”

She was braiding his hair.

It should be noted that among dwarves this custom was of a great importance: only people being very close were allowed to braid each other’s hair. This ritual tightened the bonds between them very strongly.

“Now, Fili, it’s your turn,” she said after a moment.

Kili stood up quickly, taking one sword from Fili.

“Well, Dorian, ready for a good thrashing?” the young dwarf smirked.  

The boy grinned evilly.

“Will see,” he answered, dropping one of his swords.

While Sybil was combing Fili’s golden hair, the dwarf sitting at her feet, around them there could be heard the steel singing, the leaves rustling lightly, a gentle murmur of the stream and the birds’ music.

Kili had found this place the day after the memorable feast and had shared his discovery with the rest immediately. Since then, the four of them would sit there for hours. They felt safe - they were sure that prying eyes and ears wouldn't reach them there. This place seemed to be hidden - it was on the border of the park surrounding The Last Homely House and no path led there. The clearing was almost perfectly round, and a small stream flowed it over. There was the stone bench and a statue of an elf dressed in armor, holding a sword. The beeches, oaks and pines grew around.

The foursome had been catching up on the eight years of separation over there; they had a lot to explain. And although the stories told then were mostly very sad, they all remembered the time spent in that place as very happy.

Dorian hit the ground, falling on his face spectacularly, stumbling by Kili's leg, not-so-accidentally causing him to fall. The young dwarf pressed the blade into the back of the lying lad.

“Do you yield?” he asked with a triumphant smile.

“Never,” Kili heard in response, and then was thrown into the stream.

“Boys, calm down!” Sybil exclaimed, not even looking in their direction. Now, they were wrestling on the ground, not caring that they were in the water.

“I love to look at them as they're playing like that,” Fili said thoughtfully.

Sybil understood. He knew what it was like to have a younger brother and watch with pride as he had grown, become manly. In addition, she was bursting with joy - despite the fact that they had gone through a lot of bad things, those two were still able to be childish and innocent. What was more, she was astonished when she had noticed that their faces look alike. Dorian and Kili seemed to be real  brothers as they were chasing one another between the trees. They moved away, screaming.

Calm silence reigned on the clearing, but was cut off by Sybil after some time.

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow…?”

Why her hands were shaking? Though she had combed this golden hair so many times before.

“Yes, and you’re going with us,” Fili said haughtily.

“Fee ... I explained it to you! We can't travel together with you! We may be only your shadows and you have to get over it. And, besides, we would be a new burden for Thorin ...”

“Sybbie ... you would never be a burden. What an absurd!”

“What's more, I don’t know if you have any idea what fuss could be caused by a presence of one woman among so many men of three different races ...”

Fili snorted.

“Sybil ...”

“I know that it's all very confusing now, but Thorin REALLY cannot find out about us ...”

“Sybil ...”

“Me and Dorian have dealt with the worse situations, so why shouldn’t we manage this time ...”

“STOP IT!” Fili yelled, jumping to his feet. He faced her with anger, and met a hurt look in her eyes.

“I'm sorry …” he added right away. He took a deep breath, gathering  his courage.

“Sybil, I ... I don’t want to live in constant fear. Ever since I've met you I fear for yours and Dorian’s safety, plus Kili’s, obviously. I want us to be all together again. I refuse to part with you. I don’t want to lose my once-lost siblings again ... and I ... I don’t want to lose you.”

The girl frowned, analyzing his words, then blushed slightly.

She looked up at him uncertainly.

“Fili …?” she whispered.

“Sybil ... I ...” he said softly, gently stroking her cheek . “The thing is that ...”

But this intimate moment was interrupted by their younger brothers, who ran into the clearing with a cry, lots of leaves in their hair. Of course.

Thus, Fili and Sybil quickly returned to their previous activities.

“So, who won?” Fili asked as if nothing had happened.

“A draw, as always,” Dorian laughed.

“Are you coming to today's feast?” Fili asked after a moment of silence.

“We must,” Sybil murmured with discontent.

“How is that - ‘you must’?” Kili was confused.

“Simply,” Dorian replied. “Lord Elrolnd called me for a talk yesterday. He expressed his and his men sadness due to the fact that me and Sybil don’t show up at feasts. I had to tell him about how we had  overacted around Thorin...”

“It was brilliant!” Kili interrupted. “You made fun of him so cruelly! Now he’s like in an amok and he’s looking for you at every feast. He and the Company ask about you. ..”

“And what do you say to that?” Sybil interjected the question.  

“Oh, firstly, me and Kee avoid any contact with them,” Fili explained. “If they ask what we have been doing all day, etc., we get rid of them with some banal excuses. If they ask about you, we say that you are friends. Ordinary friends. We disappear before they could ask for names. I don’t know how long we’ll manage to keep the secret. Knowing Thorin, he’ll do everything to find out the truth ...”

“Hold on as long as possible,” Dorian almost commanded.

“If you spruce up like the last time, it will be difficult,” Kili stated.  

“All the clothes that Lord Elrond gave us are extremely beautiful and ornate,” Sybil said. “Besides, today’s the shortest night of the year, so we'll have to dress up very festively.”  

“It’s going to be a great party,” Dorian winked mischievously.

“Oh indeed,” Fili nodded, his tone quite ominous.

***

Over the water there was a large clearing. On its banks the numerous stone tables were put, and there were lamps shining with a pure, white light, hanging from the trees’ branches. Sweet music was played, and the revelers were admiring the dancing and singing elves.

However, at the table located on the increase, not all lot had fun

.

Gandalf could almost hear the questions and concerns flitting through the mind of Thorin Okaenhield, sitting next to him. And it was not about the moon runes read by Elrond.

“You came just in time, as always, Elrond.”

“This time, I’ve been warned.”

That was how the wizard found out about the children of Brandon and Cora. Everything began to fall into the altogether logically: they were the two who he had seen in the echoes of Kili’s dream. They were the reason for such a sudden change in the sons of Dis behavior. Because of them during entire trip to Rivendell he had sensed someone's near presence. It had bothered him so much that he had left the dwarves to search the area. He had regretted that because he had saved the Company from being eaten by trolls at the last minute. However, the whole story ended happily, and Gadnalf was irritated by watching as the King Under the Mountain was bothered now.

‘Secrets, secrets…’ the wizard thought. ‘Soon, they will tangle in them and disappear.’ He did not agree with Elrond, who wished to maintain a presence Dorian and Sybil in secret. In his opinion, Thorin should find out about their mad defenders. However, Gandalf had decided to respect Elrond’s decision, knowing that he was more enlightened and experienced person.

He glanced at Fili and Kili, impatiently looking round the clearing. He smiled to himself.

The shortest night of the year was going to be very long indeed.

***

They had thought that Dorian and Sybil couldn't have surprised them anymore.

When young people entered the clearing, Fili and Kili understood how wrong they had been.

Not without spilling wine over the faces of outraged Balin and Dwalin.

As Sybil and Dorian were walking between the tables, Fili and Kili were choking and having a coughing fit.

Well, no, this time it was overkill.

They had dressed up some elven princelings.

Dorian was wearing black boots, a tunic tailored similarly to the previous one, the outfit in the color of sapphire. But such an intense sapphire, as if the very material was sewn of these jewels. The tunic was covered by the elven cloak appliqué mithril. He had his hair combed like an elf, and there was a diadem made of mithril on his head, with a teardrop-shaped stone embedded in the middle. Said gem was shinning with a starlight.

Sybil was dressed in a gown belted under the bust, loose and trailing, made of a soft material in the same color as the Dorian’s tunic. Mithril was sewn into the dress in a starry patterns. The gown also had the sleeves reaching the ground and was uncovering the girl’s shoulders. Sybil had combed her hair in a bun, which was covered with a delicate silver mesh with lots of tiny glittering jewels.

As the equilibrium had finally returned to them, Fili and Kili agreed that they awaited a clarification.

Kili looked at the table top, and saw that Thorin was positively gawking at Dorian and Sybil.

It  had to be played properly. Young dwarves did not stirred an inch, only stared in disbelief at their human siblings eating food a few tables away.

They had to wait until some elves came up to the people to talk to them. When Dorian and Sybil began to circulate among the residents of Rivendell, discussing and laughing, Fili and Kili got up from the table and chose a completely roundabout way to get to these two lives and souls of the party. Dorian and Sybil were in demand. They were even engaged to dance.

When the  young people were talking with two elves and they were far enough from the table top, the dwarves interrupted their conversation. As certain Fingwid and Dinendal departed ...

“Whence on earth did you get that diadem, Dorian?”

“Cool hairdo, Sybil."

“You know that Thorin’s staring?”

“You look like elven princelings!”

“Haven’t you crossed the line maybe?”

“ENOUGH!” Dorian cried.

“Dorian got the diadem from Elrond,” Sybil said. “Ireth did my hair as if she were an ordinary servant. As long as he gapes, Thorin is harmless. Yes, we know that we look ruggedly. Maybe we actually have crossed the line, a little. But it's our last night here, you know?”

“You're leaving with us?” Kili’s voice was full of hope.

“On the same day as you, but at the dusk,” Dorian answered.

“Oh, you are so stubborn,” Fili snapped irritably.

“Are we?” Sibyl giggled. “I’ve always thought that dwarves are the most stubborn ones.”

They were wrangling and bantering for a moment.  

“Sybil, I’d like to talk to you, in private,” Fili said.

The girl blushed, and Dorian and Kili exchanged glances.

When Fili went with Sybil to their place, he was wondering if he had drunk enough to say what he wanted to.

***

Kili took his glass of wine and sat down beside Dorian, at Sybil’s seat.

“It was foreseeable,” the dwarf stated.

“But it looks like incest to me!” the boy grimaced.

“Apparently, you'll have to change your point of view,” Kili patted Dorian on the shoulder.

“We’re alone ...” Dorian grunted after a moment of silence. “What do we do now?”

“Well, we’re surrounded by beautiful she-elves ... it would be such a pity not to take the opportunity,” the dwarf winked mischievously.

Dorian nodded with a knowing smirk. He drank a big gulp of wine.

“Lead the way."

As they could not decide, they accosted the nearest she-elves, who turned out to be Ireth and her friend Arien.

The shortest night of the year was going to be very long indeed.  

***

He was looking at them when they entered the clearing and spread a silence around themselves.

As they were dancing, talking and laughing with the elves.

He was sure that he knew them. Maybe ... No, it was silly ...

Brandon and Cora?

Thorin smiled at the memory of his friends. They had been so good and forgiving to him.

And their children ... the warm wave washed over him as he reminded himself as Sybil would sit stubbornly in his forge, badgering him with questions how to make this or that. Or when Dorian had been almost climbing on his head every night when he came home after a hard day of work, wanting to play with him.

No ... these two were definitely not Bradnon and Cora. Even only because Brandon had had raven hair, not brown, and he had been much taller. While Cora  hadn't been so slim and small.

Maybe they were their closest relatives?

He hadn't been to Ettinor for eight years. He had to find out what was going on with his friends.

That was very rude to leave the table before the host, but Thorin didn't care so much about the friendship of Elrond Half-elven.

When he saw that Fili was leaving with the girl, he felt confused and thoughts unworthy of a king flashed through his mind.

“Where are you going, Thorin?” Gandalf  asked, his tone suggesting that he felt slightly offended by his behavior.

“I'm going for an explanations.”

***

Bilbo was watching with amusement as all of the boys' charm was in the turnover. They were gaining a growing crowd of fans. Dorian had the advantage that he knew elven dances, and he was asking a different she-elf to every dance. Kili clearly didn't like it. The Hobbit chuckled.

“What's so funny, Mr. Baggins?” he heard this wonderful, deep voice behind him.

He turned around quickly and looked right into the sapphire eyes of his King.

“N-nothing ... I j-just reminded myself something funny,” he stammered, scared.

Thorin apparently didn't care what he wanted to say, as usual.

He looked in the direction of Dorian and Kili.

“Do you know who is this lad who’s talking to Kili, burglar?” the King asked.

“No ... I only know as much as you - that he’s an ordinary friend,” Hobbit lied.  

Thorin departed without any further word.

After a few seconds, Bilbo realized where the King was going.

Oh no. He had to stop him. Though he had promised. He had promised Sybil a discretion...

“You can’t go there!” he shouted to Thorin.

That  immediately stopped the dwarf. He turned and looked angrily at the Hobbit.

‘’You can’t!’ You can’t?! I have just commanded the King Under the Mountain!’

“Why not?” Thorin hissed, approaching Bilbo slowly.

“Because ... because ...” oh dear, oh dear, what was he supposed to say? “Because ... er ... you’ll spoil their fun!” Bilbo said quickly. “Look ... their talks with she-elves are going very well!”

“If I interrupt, they won’t lose much,” Thorin snorted contemptuously and walked away briskly.

Bilbo looked around frantically, looking for solutions.

He had promised! Though he had promised ... though, though ...

He looked at the increase. Elrond's eyes pierced him through.

“Please ...” he whispered.

Lord of Rivendell rose from the table, announcing with it that the feast was over.

Bilbo sighed with relief loudly. Thorin was so close already!

Now, all the revelers would go to the Hall of Fire in the appropriate order, therefore the King Under the Mountain would leave as one of the first.

When Thorin quit, Bilbo was only thinking about that he had made ​​an idiot of himself.

***

He seated her on the bench. It was quite comfortable for him because then he could look at her face without craning his neck.

He drowned into her warm, dark brown eyes. He would like not to have to explain anything. Just stare into them.

His icy blue eyes were looking at her with tenderness and love. They had been looking like that as she had been little, but ... there was something new in his gaze ... something ...

Why was her heart beating so fast? After all, she trusted him, no matter in what direction he was going, gently removing the mesh from her hair and unwoving the bun ...

It was a pity to destroy such an intricate job, but he loved when her hair was hanging loose. As the waves flowed down her back, his hands sank in them. They were softer than he had expected.

A pleasant shiver rushed through her body. For the love of the Valar, what was he up to? And why she felt that she was burning? Why did she want to do only one thing now? Though he was her brother.

Only now did her bare shoulders drew his attention. He ran his fingertips against them gently. For Mahal’s sake, why was he doing this? Why couldn't he stop himself? Though she was his sister.

“Sybil, something has changed ... in the way which I think of you,” he blurted out quickly. “I remembered you as my little stubborn sister. I didn’t suspect that people grew up so fast. You are a young woman now, mentally we’re at the same age. When I realized this, I was in a huge shock. I wasn’t ready for it and ... Sybil, I'm sorry if what I’m going to do would be repulsive to you, but I have to understand what’s wrong with me.”

As Fili knew for a long time, he was a good seducer. He enjoyed popularity among women not only of his race.

When he kissed Sybil and did not feel the desire normal at this step, he was a little surprised. There was something more ... something ... which meant that he could stop an it and drew pleasure only from a kiss.

Was it disgusting? Not at all. Or should it be? That she didn't know. She only knew that everything was great.

When Sybil threw his hands on his neck, Fili wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

She smiled into the kiss.

The shortest night of the year was going to be very long indeed.

______________________________

Oh yeah, that night was very long indeed.
And finally we know what about Gandalf.
As for Fili and Sybil... as Kili said, it was foreseeable.
As for going to the Hall of Fire... since the larger number of people goes there in some imprtant holidays, I thought that the shortest night of the year is one of them.