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[Novnarwen]

"Not terribly exciting but I hope its a start to our friendship".

Dwalin was quite satisfied about the official 'foundation' of his friendship with Nerin. A truly wonderful feeling arose inside of him and made his cheek turn reddish. His delight was only interrupted by the movements from the corner in the room, of where Hænir and Bali sat. They were talking louder than before, and Dwalin could hear some of the words, such as:"leaving" and "tunnels". This didn't at all sound great, as Dwalin had expected to stay here a bit longer. In fact, Dwalin didn't mind staying here much longer. Surely, the Rhuians wouldn't come back when they had been so roughly defeated, and just that would make this place the safest place the dwarves possibly could be. He frowned, standing up as Bali had raised from his seat.

He excused himself, as Nerin looked questioningly at him, and went over to Bali's side. With a serious look, he goggled at Hænir, and the two brothers were left alone.

"Are we leaving?" Dwalin asked stiffly. There was a low "yes", before Dwalin turned, leaving to pack the few belongings he had.

**

Bali had told the rest of the company that they would be going through the tunnels. Dwalin hoped that it wouldn't be too dark in there, but the sound of tunnels made him, nevertheless, want to stay here in the room. Even some of his companions looked rather nervous. But they would eventually have to leave anyway, so why not now through the tunnels? With a sigh, he walked hurriedly towards the exit, which was nothing but a big hole in the stone wall. Muttering to himself about how everything could go so terribly wrong, he ignored the fact that he was scared to leave a place he thought so safe.

There was nothing really special about these tunnels. It was dark, but he hadn't expected it to be otherwise. The company found themselves surrounded by stone walls, bending into every direction possible. The sound of their steps echoed and made Dwalin feel most uncomfortable. What if someone heard them? he thought, looking suspiciously around. But he couldn't see more than about five paces away. He realised that he was only being paranoid, like always. It was ridiculous, really, but he couldn't help it.

"Do you think these tunnels end somewhere?" Dwalin suddenly burst out to no one in particular. Bali hushed at him, but smiled. Dwalin hoped this meant that there was an end.

Even though he settled with this thought, he couldn't help thinking of if the tunnels didn't lead to an end, (if that was possible). What would happen then? They were already short on provision, both food and water. He pictured himself leaning his back to the grey stone wall, cold as ice. He saw himself, eyes red with horror, mouth dry and his face thin and pale. Yes, if they didn't find a way out, they would starve! Dwalin gave a huge gasp, which made the rest of the company either turn towards him, or run up to his side. "Something wrong?" they asked eyes all over him. Dwalin excused himself and showed them off, telling them he was just yawning. "I'm tired," he said moaning.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The darkness of the tunnels was becoming oppressive and the only stay that Hænir had against it was his axe. He clutched it tightly in his mailed fists as they wandered through the corridors. They had been blundering about like this for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was they were seeking. His distraction led him to stumble into Nerin who had stopped short just before him. “Oi!” the younger Dwarf expostulated beneath his breath, “watch your feet!”

Hænir scowled into the gloom and muttered an apology. The whole party seemed to have halted for a time so Hænir took the opportunity to ask Nerin how he was enduring the trials of this terrible place – it was the first chance he’d had to talk with his friend since arriving at the edge of the deadly Sea. Nerin turned to face him and said, “I am well, I suppose. As well as I could be. I took a bit of a knock in the battle, but I acquitted myself well.”

“Aye,” said Hænir with professional appreciation, “that you did lad, that you did. It was a close fought thing, but we sent them back with memories that will prevent them from coming upon us again soon!” He chuckled mirthlessly under his beard as he remembered the Rhûnian he had slain. “They were good fighters, though; the best I’ve seen since we stormed the last holdouts at Gundabad! Ah, now” he sighed, losing himself in a happy memory, “that was a proper battle, lad. The goblins kept retreating deeper and deeper into their caves and cracks, and we kept pressing in upon them. In the final sorties of the war, we were so deep beneath the surface of the earth that we fancied we could feel the fire that burns at her heart, welling up beneath our feet. The dark was so thick, you couldn’t even remember the sight of sun.” He felt rather than saw Nerin shudder. “I’m sorry, lad,” he said, laying a hand that he hoped was comforting on his shoulder, “I shouldn’t be speaking of such things at a time like this. There’s enough enemies in the dark in the here and now!”

Bali’s voice came to them through the dark, ordering the party onward. Hefting his axe, suddenly made lighter with the memory of the goblins he’d slain in that long-ago war, Hænir pressed ahead into the unnatural night-time of the cave.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Narvi trudged alone in the darkness of the tunnels. Water dripped from ceiling. Long ago, the same waters rushed through these rocks, carving exquisite sculptures of minerals. Any Dwarf would have adored this place, and even endured the damp cold for a glance. But Narvi's shivering was not from the cold outside, but from his heart.

The fury of battle left him, and his thoughts took control. The face of the man he killed appeared before his eyes; its face contorted in anger, its eyes blazing in fury, its mouth smeared with blood. The face never left him. It tortured him. He had the right to kill me. All of us. How come I survived while those whose wrath burned righteously fell? He searched for an answer. His mind gave none. So did his heart.

There was only one thing left to do. He approached someone, hoping that he would share Narvi's burden. He tapped the Dwarf in the back. It was Hænir.

"Is it right?" he asked without preamble.

"What do you mean?" answered the Dwarf.

"We were wrong to enter here. What right have we to escape, to leave this place? What right have we to kill those whose only wish is to be left alone? I fought before Dale once, and I was proud of that. The Wild Men and the ruthless Orcs deserved their fates. For trying to destroy us, and to take what is ours, they were punished.

"Now it was I who had invaded, and spilled blood on their own soil. Is it right that we live?"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Narvi’s question stopped Hænir in his tracks, so surprised was he by the fact that he had never considered their situation in that light. Recalling himself, he moved on but Narvi had seen his reaction. “What is wrong?” he asked, “is aught amiss?”

Hænir shook his head, “Nay, lad, but your question has set me back a bit for sure. I had not thought of our journey in that way. I hate to think of what we are doing as being akin to the ravening of goblins or orcs, but there’s no denying the truth of what you say: we are the invading strangers here, and we’ve done a lot of what these folk will call murder.” He fell into an uncomfortably contemplative silence. “Nay, it’s not an idea that I relish in the least…”

“Then you believe we are in the wrong?” Narvi asked with a falling tone in his voice. “We do not deserve to win free of this place, I fear. If they come upon us again I shall fight, but I fear my heart shall not be quite right with that.”

Hænir chuckled mirthlessly. “I do not care where your heart is, lad, so long as your axe is at the ready. But I daresay that when they come upon us again we will have more and better things to worry about that the nice scruples of our situation.”

They trudged along in silence for a few minutes as Hænir turned these thoughts over and over in his mind. It had never occurred to him to question or even think about the rightness of their journey. After a life spent in the service of the King, he had become so used to following his lord’s lead, that it had been enough for him that Bali – the King’s own nephew – had felt the journey justified. Despite his early doubts about Bali’s abilities as a leader, he had never though to question his authority. And this unquestioning obedience and reliance, he now realised, had extended to a deferral of all questions about the morality of their situation to Bali. Hænir spoke to Narvi again as though their conversation had been going on that whole time. “I do not think that we are like the orcs, though, Narvi. They came to Erebor knowing that we were there and wanting to destroy us and all that we’d built. We came to this land ignorant of this folk’s existence and wanting no trouble. Remember, they attacked us first. We may have stumbled into their home unasked, but there’s other things to do than try to slaughter us without even so much as a greeting!”

“But would we have done any different if we woke up one day and found a strange folk poking about the halls of Erebor?” Narvi asked.

“I do not know,” Hænir replied slowly. “I would like to think that we’d at least try to take them alive so that we could find out what their business was. Remember, too, that these folk have not just attacked us now – they have been harassing and harrying us for days. Who do you think stole our maps and set those beasts upon us in the jungle?”

Hænir fell silent, not knowing if he had answered Narvi’s questions to his satisfaction.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Hænir's words sank slowly into Narvi. He's right, he thought. We were guiltless save of lust for treasure. We never intended to harm the natives or take thir land.

"But," he said, "we intended to take treasures that were theirs. What excuse have we for that."

Hænir was silent for a while. "We never knew that someone owned this 'treasure'. And this illusion we journeyed for, which we found out, to our dismay, was deadly, we never did take."

Narvi was frowning, his eyes on the ground a foot ahead of him. He was in a pensive mood again, the look he had long ago, while pondering the best way to shock the enemy with minimal force. Now, he was thinking of something equally deadly.

He raised his head, and understanding sparkled in his eyes. He cursed the fact that a thing so prosaic as a difference in toungues would have them fighting for their lives in the land of the enemy. Yet they were also to blame. They attacked the Dwarves without so much as an inquiry to their presence here. Understanding hardened to resolve, and he swore to himself that they would escape this place. None should dare stop him.

But, one more thing needed to be done.

"Thanks, friend." Hænir nodded, and went on ahead.

[Himaran]

Novnarwen's post

Everything had happened to quickly. Before the poor dwarf had given all this thought, he suddenly found himself and the company standing in a chamber, surrounded by these barbarians who were now closing in on them. Their blades were raised, and their eyes were lit up with a certain desire to end all of their petty little lives. They were ready to strike any moment now. But with a movement so fast, that the eye might have missed it, Hænir darted unexpectedly towards something which had obviously caught his attention. Grabbing a hold of whatever it was, everyone went silent. The Rhuians, who seemed quite pleased by the company’s arrival, seemed now to be in shock. Their muttering, their giggling and their smirking; all was gone. Now, everyone seemed rather tense. The barbarians, stood with mouths open, heaving after air. What was happening? Even Dwalin felt his sweaty hands almost losing their grip of his axe, which he had raised to defend himself.

After a few seconds, as Hænir had grabbed whatever it was, he came hurrying back towards Dwalin. Showing sign to hold his hands out, Hænir handed him something . . . a stone . . . Dwalin looked hesitatingly at him and at the shining object. The Dwarf hadn’t noticed its light before, but now, as it shone so clearly before his eyes, he couldn’t take his eyes from it. Was it gold? Was this the treasure they had come all the way from Erebor to get? He wondered. As he got a proper look of it, it actually reminded him of the moon. It was letting out this silvery light; which gave the impression of being an orb. No, this was not at all gold.

“Lad, I think I could use your help with this; just hold your axe above this trinket and make like you’re about ready to break it. Maybe that will convince them to give us back our leader!" Hænir said.

"Wow, this must be valuable!" Dwalin muttered to himself, not quite following Hænir’s way of thinking. He kept staring at it, feeling numb all over, as if a spell had been cast over him. It didn’t exactly reflect anything, so it was most definitely not some kind of mirror. It wasn’t gold either, and it could certainly not be silver. It was way too heavy for that. “But it must be valuable," Dwalin muttered again, as he was able to turn his attention towards the Rhuians, Hænir and Bali. And just then, he knew what Hænir had meant. It was valuable, very valuable. If it wasn't, why else would the Rhuians stand so still as if it was the end of the world? None of them had in fact moved after Hænir had got his hands on it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot Bali. He tried to give him a wave. But as he was about to wave to Bali with his axe in his left hand and the orb in his right, he realised that it was quite complicated, and naturally he failed. He tried again, now almost losing his grip on the orb. There was a loud uproar in the crowd of Rhuians, as they saw how Dwalin had almost dropped the orb to the ground. The fear in their eyes showed that this thing, which Dwalin was holding, was something of the most precious they had. Giving this one more thought, Dwalin held his axe over the orb. Again, there was shouting and screaming. Frightened Rhuians looked as if they wanted to get a hold of the dwarf who was threatening to destroy the orb, but because of their fear that he would destroy it, they kept still. Dwalin smirked, hearing Hænir.

"Let the dwarf go, and I shall not give him," Hænir pointed at Dwalin, "orders to destroy it." The Rhuians looked sceptically at Hænir, showing no sign of letting Bali go. As Dwalin knew that they definitely had the advantage in this situation, he giggled. He lifted his axe, looked at the Rhuians who were surrounding them and Bali, ready to strike. Once more the Rhuians looked terrified, and they seemed to be having a disagreement. Dwalin couldn't make out what they said, but they seemed quite angry. "Don't give them anymore time," Hænir whispered into Dwalin air. He nodded, and sank his axe slowly. Just then, there was a loud scream from one of the Rhuians. As if seen a ghost, the Rhuian's white face lit up the chamber. Everyone seemed to turn their attention towards Dwalin and the company, who had just earlier burst into the room. Everyone held their breaths, looking horrified.

Just before the axe would have destroyed the orb with the beautiful light, movements from the corner interrupted Dwalin’s concentration. From where Bali stood, also holding his breath, the Rhuians spread to give the dwarf room to walk pass them. Dwalin looked surprisingly around, very pleased with himself.

[Himaran]

Bali watched in amazement as the Rhunians simply spread away from him. Deciding not to look surprised, he walked to the room's center and collected his weapons and gear in a leisurely manner. As he walked towards the party, the savages stepped back, giving the dwarf a clear path. He strode through the widening gap with an air of command, but when he reached his group became his old friendly self again. The dwarf patted Dwalin on the back, and gave him a smile that his younger brother had always longed for; one of respect. "Nice move, lad. Now let's get out of here. Oh, and Haenir, may I see that for a moment." The dwarf handed the crystal ball over, and Bali examined it.

"Beautiful. Rare and exquisite. It must be incredibly valuable. Keep it safe!" After handing it back to Haenir, Bali looked around the company.

"Thank you all for coming after me. Hand you not, I would surely be dead. And, more importantly, we would not have found this!" They all chuckled.

"I wonder why they care about it so much," said Gortek. The Rhunians were still standing, as if frozen to the ground. They made no move in any direction, but simply stared at the shining light Haenir held.

"I have no idea, but let's not stay and find out," said Durin. Bali and the others agreed, and they left the cavern peacefully.
_______________________

Several hours later, they had left the caves, and headed north up the canyon. And they knew that they would all make it home.

[Saraphim]

No one had touched the Great Light. No one. Never in the life of Nephil, or indeed the lives of the Elders, some of whom had seen more than a hundred summers. It was the heart of the city, and it was said that it brought luck.

So it was, that when the Dwarf-creature had grabbed the Light, the entire cavern of Rhunians had frozen in their tracks.

It was as if, with that simple gesture of reaching out and taking the Light, the Dwarf had reached out and taken the soul of the people of Rhun.

We never thought to gaurd it, thought Nephil quickly, while he dared not move his body, Never. No harm has ever come to it before.

One of the other Dwarves made as if to crash his axe down onto the Light, and the Rhunians stiffened as one. But they still did not move to stop the thieves.

They slowly edged out the door. No one followed them.

The Light could still be seen as it moved down the carverns, but soon it would be gone. Forever.

Nephil thought of something. He broke from his frozen body and ran from the room.

No one followed.

The last of the party was disappearing down a corner. But Nephil wanted the one at the tail end.

"Quendi!" called Nephil, hoping it would answer.

It stopped and slowly turned, surprised to be called by that name.

One of the men stopped as well, and looked questioningly at his friend.

Nephil stopped and held his arms out, showing he had no weapons. The man drew his sword, but niether Nephil nor the Quendi noticed.

"Yes?" It questioned.

Nephil was shocked to find himself talking to the enigma that had haunted his thoughts since he saw him in the forest, but he collected his thoughts.

"Are you...truly...immortal?" he asked.

"I can be killed. But if not, yes, I live for eternity."

The Quendi looked at Nephil, judging him through his eyes.

"I am Raendin,"

"Nephil," he said.

The man put his hand on Raendin's shoulder and the two quickly ran from the hall, following the Light.

Nephil stared after them, deep in thought.

~~~

It was some days later. The entire city was present in the largest cavern. The Elders stood in the middle, looking harrassed and tired.

Maulka was standing near them as well, proclaiming as loud as she could that the thieves must be stopped, the Light returned.

Nephil had been only vaguely following the events as they unfolded. He stood fairly close to the middle with Corith.

Suddenly he heard his name and felt hundreds of eyes on him. On of the Elders had asked him a question.

"Well?" said the old man,"Should we go after them? You were the one who ran out after they did...the unthinkable. Sould we go?"

Nephil cleared his throat. Thoughts rushed through his mind, of the Quendi, of the Dwarves, of the half-starved catch. The question echoed in his mind, and he knew with certainly that if they went after them, the intruders would not live to see another sunrise. The Light would be returned, and life would return to normal.

"No," said Nephil, and the entire carvern began to murmur. His voice grew stronger, "No. We should not. We have lost too many, and the Quendi...the Quendi cannot be killed. By any means. We will lose."

The absurdity of this statement almost made Nephil laugh, but the Elders, unbelievably, took him seriously.

Nephil turned and left the room, pushing through his people. He left the main hall, and turned down the exiting tunnel.

Outside, rain fell in torrents, but Nephil climbed a rock outcropping oblivious to the slippery ground.

He faced west, the direction the intruders had come, and where they would be going now.

He thought of them, making thier way through uncharted forest, fearing pursiut.

But they had the Light. And Nephil wished them luck.

[Esgallhugwen]

Nerin was limping badly from the battle, one of the Rhûnians dove under him and slashed at his leg from behind, cutting deeply into his calf. But it didn't stop him from going after Dwalin and Hænir; he had wanted to say something but his body ailed him badly and he could not think of anything so he remained silent.

His gut feeling told him that Bali may yet be alive but knowing the viciousness of these natives and their irratic way of fighting Nerin found it hard to believe in hope. After all why would they choose to keep him alive? he thought sadly being unable to think of any reason why would spare his life.

But that had all changed when they reached what looked to be a council room. By the time Nerin had hobbled up to the entrance he almost gasped at the sight in front of him.

Nothing was happening, not one person, not one Rhûnian was moving. Then he saw to his left that Dwalin and Hænir had the most beautiful thing he had ever seen on this whole miserable journey.

A globe of crystal that contained a light of silver and gold, or was it alight, Nerin couldn't be certain, but as he looked around noticing no torches, candles or other means of illumination he knew the core of the orb was indeed giving off its own radiance.

Soon enough they were on their way with Bali safely in tow and the luminescent globe that the Rhûnians seemed to hold with great reverence. Several hours later they headed North up the canyon.

As they reached the craggy borders where they first entered Rhûn Nerin stopped and looked over the vast tangled jungle, his first adventure where he nearly lost his life. And yet somehow he respected the place and its inhabitants, as wild and vicious as they were, after all they were the invaders and the Rhûnians were only trying to protect their country land; Nerin would have done the same.

"Farewell Kain, and the land of Rhûn, I doubt I'll ever see ye again, nor would I want to seeing as all the trouble yer 'ave given me will last me for quite some time" he laughed and smiled at his comapanions.

Finally he would be going home and with a treasure to boot!

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Hænir’s heart grew heavier and heavier as they scaled the walls of the land that had very nearly been their tomb. His every muscle ached from the exertions of battle, and his wounds cried out for care and tending. He looked ahead to the rest of their journey with little hope for they had no food, no supplies and no equipment still, and they were weeks from their home. All that they had was the globe that Hænir bore in a small bag upon his back.

It was the weight of this globe that bore upon him most heavily, however, for he could not help but think of what he and Nerin had said to one another about their mission. The globe was clearly the greatest treasure of the Rhûnians, as sacred to them as the Arkenstone was to his people, and they had stolen it from them. He could not shake from his mind the vision of what it would be like in Erebor if a band of strangers from this land had assaulted the Mountain and carried off the precious heart of their realm from the very tomb of Thorin. Hænir shrugged his shoulders against this thought and tried to drive it away. Ever higher they climbed, rising above the jungle below and into the mountains. Soon they would be in the high pass above the waterfall, and then upon the other side of the Mountains and any hope that the Rhûnians had of retrieving the treasure would be gone.

Hænir’s heart should have been light, for they had escaped certain death at the hands of the savages, and he had finally won the honour that had eluded him his whole life. His failure to save his King all those long years ago had been repaid by his protection of Bali, and at long last Hænir would be able to engrave his name upon his axe to join the revered names of his ancestors. The weight of that axe upon his shoulder had never been so reassuring, nor had he borne it with such ease.

But still the weight of globe bore him down, darkening his mind and clouding his joy on this day. As they neared the top of the mountain pass, he paused and looked back over the lands they had entered so unknowingly. His eyes traversed the jungle and looked out to the distant glimmering of the Sea – the Sea that had promised such riches and brought only death and despair to them. The others were plodding ahead of him now, and none watched as he pulled the globe out of his hands. He held it before his face, and even in the full light of day, its radiance was a wonder to behold. At that moment, there came a slight rustling from the scant brush that rose upon the slopes of the mountain almost to where he stood, and from the foliage emerged the form of the woman whom he had fought with in their final encounter. She still bore the signs of their combat, but as she regarded him he could tell that she felt the same guarded respect for him that he did for her. She gazed at the globe with such despair that it rent Hænir’s heart to the very core, and again he imagined what it would be like to have the Arkenstone ripped from his people’s hands. He looked at the woman and their eyes met through the radiance of the globe once more, and Hænir knew that the only thing he could bear from this country that he had not brought with him, was his honour…