Chapter 33 - Epilogue

A/N: Yes, with mixed feelings, here is the final chapter at the end of six stories and an amazing year-and-half. Stay tuned for the newest development(s), announced at the end! Happy reading...Mahal's Blessings to you all...really. Enjoy!

They were Kings, brothers, and sister-sons of Thorin Oakenshield.

But Fili and Kili were also the only two children of Gunnvald Kingfather, the uncrowned Firebeard prince and descendant of the legendary smith Telchar, the dwarf who had forged the great sword Narsil.

They stood now, side by side in one of the deepest tombs of Ered Luin and stared at the two stone effigies which lay side-by-side before them.

The names: Gunnvald Kingfather and Lady Dís, Daughter of Durin, had been carved into the smooth stone, the work of the same master.

Kili remembered his mother's profile—much like his own. But he had no living memory of his father. Gunnvald in repose looked much like a young version of Fili.

Kili wondered at the likeness. The number of times he'd seen his brother stretched out on his back in the sun, hands clasped on his chest in much this same position… It was a bit jarring.

Silently, he reached into his pocket for a small item he had carried for well over eighty years. It was snug inside a small cloth bag and he slipped it from its protection and let the little sack fall to the ground. He looked at the grey-blue stone with the single word carved by his mother's own hand. It lay smooth and fit snug in his palm, just like it always did. He meant to leave it with his mother—but inexplicably, after carrying it all these years—he realized he would miss it.

He looked up to see Fili and Gunz watching him.

"Our mother gave this to me," he murmured to Gunz. "When I left Ered Luin to join our Uncle."

Fili was silent.

Gunz's brow furrowed. "That's a promise stone, Uncle. I can feel the spell from here."

Kili looked at the lad. He might have been named for his Firebeard grandfather, but Gunnar was most definitely a Son of Durin. That sense for stonespelling had come from his grandmother, sister to Thorin Oakenshield.

"She made this so I would return to her…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He suddenly felt unexplainably shaky, here at her grave with this piece of her work in his hand.

"And now you have," Fili said, firmly.

Bless you, brother. Kili thought a moment about his regret at not seeing her again. They'd written, but she had refused to leave Khelethur and he had been unable to leave Erebor. That was just how it had been in those days. Kili accepted it as unchangeable and smiled sadly. After a moment he reached out to place the little promise stone on his mother's grave.

"No!" Gunz grabbed Kili's arm, stopping him.

Kili looked at his nephew, who was shaking his head, wide-eyed. "You'll break the spell."

Kili frowned. He had come back, as his mother had meant him to do. Wasn't this the right thing…?

"Hang onto it and the spell will keep working," Gunz asserted. Then he smiled. "You want to always come back, right?"

Fili suddenly laughed. "The lad's right, Kili." They looked at each other. "Keep the stone and that promise will keep you safe for many more years."

Kili found himself blinking at the stone, at Gunz, and at his brother. "Truly?" He hadn't considered that not returning it had kept him safe, even through all the years tormented by a morgul wound and a dragon spirit.

Gunz looked him, his expression serious well beyond his young years and Kili realized his nephew had a point. He closed his fingers around the little stone and felt the rightness of keeping it deep in his heart. Like the carved raven feather under his shirt, this piece of stone belonged with him.

He looked at his mother's grave, at her sculpted profile. "I am here, mother," he said softly, holding the stone tight. "And I renew my promise…I swear to you I will keep coming back—to you, to my Lady Wife, to my own lad, and to our people."

Gunz's strained expression relaxed and the lad bent to retrieve the little bag. He lifted it from the stone floor, dusted it off, and handed it back to him.

"There," he said, face solemn. Then the lad nodded. "Done!"

Winter turned to spring in Khelethur and as Corax guarded a new nest in the trees next to the Lodge, Kili and Fili stood on the terrace, soaking in the sunset. It cast warm light on the green trees, the waterfalls, and the massive granite cliffs rising high around them. They could hear the river in the distance, and from the woods: the echoing quorks of ravens flying their last patrol of the day. All was well and the Khelethur flock was settling for the night.

"The traders who came in this morning report the roads are clear," Fili said.

Kili didn't reply. He'd known this day would come and his gut was suddenly hollow.

"I've asked Brunskald for an escort," Fili said quietly. "We will leave in three days."

"Your Lady Wife will be missing you," Kili said. It was one thing for Fili to be away over the winter, but An herself was expecting a fifth child and Fili belonged back home for the upcoming year. As an older lass, An was nearing the end of her child-bearing years and Nÿr herself was not without concern for her sister-by-marriage.

Fili nodded. "There's a little cousin to bring along for young Kirin," he said. "Mahal willing."

They were quiet again, watching Corax's hen land on their nest and feed two greedy hatchlings, all beak and dark fluff. But Kili knew the last few years had not been easy for Fili and An.

"She will have the best care," Kili reassured him. "You have brought peace and plenty to Erebor. They can have no better."

"We both brought that," Fili corrected him. "I would have never survived without you."

Kili suppressed a grin. "Nor I you, nadad." They watched Corax glide in, alighting and standing tall: chief of the Khelethur flock.

Fili smiled, looking relaxed and happy. "Twenty four years and I'll be back to stay."

Kili felt a moment of sadness—he couldn't quite see his brother not being Fili, King Under the Mountain, Lord of Erebor. But then he smiled. "I promise to have the place fixed up a bit more by then," he said. The truth was they'd toured and assessed the mines while Fili was here. They were functional, but the last few hundred years had been a struggle for the Blue Mountains folk and the signs of deferred maintenance were everywhere.

"I'll send a caravan back as soon as the northern pass clears," Fili said.

They'd agreed that Kili's share of the Erebor gold would be transferred a little at a time over the next few years. It was time to repay the Blue Mountains for all the years of support. They would fund the refitting of Ered Luin's mines and settlements together.

"And I mean to leave a few of the Erebor Guard with you on exchange," Fili said.

Kili nodded. Spending time in each others' kingdoms was good for them. "We've all kept far too much to ourselves for too long," he said. "There are several of the Ered Luin militia that I wish to send to Erebor as well. I need more of them learning defense Erebor-style and bringing the tactics here."

They walked back inside the family quarters then, Kili's hand on his brother's shoulder. At the great hearth, Fili commandeered Kirin from Embur, tucked him safely in the crook of his arm and rocked him in front of the fire.

"I won't see you again until you're walking, laddie."

Kili thought his brother looked a bit sad.

"Mahal willing," Fili went on, talking to Kirin. "There'll be plenty of years here with you when you're a bit older...and I'll bring a few of your cousins along. Can't grow up without cousins..."

And then Nÿr was there, helping Kili shrug out of his leathers and settle himself in Gunnvald's chair. Fili took his time sauntering over, but soon enough he reluctantly handed his little nephew to his Da.

It was already a tradition now, to sit in his father's chair by the fire and spend time with his son at the end of the day.

Kili was finally more comfortable with it, getting a feel for gathering the little lad close and letting the baby lay against his chest. Amazing how quickly he'd come to feel soothed by his little lad laying close to his heart. Mahal willing, he would be a healthy lad with a long life.

Suddenly he understood Fili better. There was nothing more satisfying than to leave a kingdom in better shape than it was when you got it, and then to pass it off to your heir.

Fili had 24 years to go.

Kili had 82. Still, he'd be far younger than old Dwalin by the time Kirin was ready to inherit...

They passed a pleasant, quiet evening at home together, but the next day, Fili stood in one of the Guard caverns overseeing the packing for his journey home.

About twenty Blue Mountains lads were preparing to depart as well, and about twenty Erebor lads were preparing to stay. There was much sorting and trading of gear going on...as well as advice in the form of jesting and jokes.

"Here," Fili said, sorting his own gear as Kili approached. He shoved a heavy tome into the hands of one Gnip, Erebor lad preparing to enter into clerical service to Ered Luin's King. "I put you in charge of keeping this, and…" Fili eyed his brother. "Make sure he knows what's in it." He slapped Gnip on the arm.

Kili frowned and cocked his head to focus on the tooled leather cover and then read aloud: "A Treatise on the Judicial Proceedings of the Blue Mountains Territory with a Historical Perspective on the Litigation concerning Mining Rights and Familial Precedence." He looked up at his brother in despair. "You brought that…?"

"Yes," Fili stated. Then he looked Kili in the eye. "Learn it. You'll need it."

They exchanged a sober glance. Fili hadn't missed the fact that along with mine repairs there was sure to be a resurgence in family squabbles over rights. Kili would have his hands full.

"Yes," Kili agreed in a deadpan voice. "Huzzah for me."

For Fili and Gunz's last night in Khelethur, Kili and Bofur threw a party. The Erebor and Blue Mountains Guard had arranged who would stay and who would go, but there were apprentices from the forges and the mines as well as healers, cooks, and junior clerks going along. It was only fitting that their collected families had been invited to the Lodge to share a hearty meal and much ale with The Durin Lads, as the folk had taken to calling them.

Fact was, the people of the Blue Mountains loved seeing the sons of Gunnvald and Dís together "at home," as they considered both Fili and Kili to be lads of Ered Luin, and young Gunnar was not only a favorite of his Firebeard kin, but of everyone. He was not to be Erebor's next King—they all knew his older brother would be crowned—so they felt free to claim him as their own as well.

And the lad was cheerful, well-mannered, and not without talent.

"Bring that one back for an apprenticeship," the senior Stonesmith said, bowing his greeting to Fili. "Another ten years and he'll be just the right age." The older dwarf leaned close. "I can see he has the knack," he added. "Same as your Lady Mother."

Fili had looked shocked a moment, then considered his son. "Stonespelling, you mean?"

The stonesmith put his hand on his heart. "Do you know that her last apprentice still resides here?"

Fili's eyebrows went up. "Here?"

The smith shook his head. "Not here in Khelethur—but in the northern reaches; in a settlement called Wardspire."

Fili noted that the name caught Gunnar's attention and the lad turned to them with round eyes.

"When he's just a bit older," Fili said firmly. He was not ready to let his lad leave his sight, he could admit that. Impulsively, he reached out and pulled the lad close, planting a wet kiss on his son's forehead. "What do you think, Gunz?"

"About stonework?"

Fili nodded. The old Stonesmith watched.

"Yes, Da. But…" His eyes went from the smith back to his father.

"You want to stay near your Da," the smith noted, nodding with approval. "Only natural and very commendable, lad. Well," he said with a wink. "Let's talk again in a few years. There's a likely senior apprentice or two that might benefit from time abroad," he said. "And perhaps that's a way to start your work closer to home." He emphasized the last word and then smiled when Gunz's eyes lit up. Learning without leaving his father seemed to be the thing.

They heard Kili calling for more ale, and Gunz leapt to assist Dag at the Guard Captains' table and Fili watched him go. He had already given Fjalar over to the training of Erebor and he knew, even at his young age, that his third son Hannar would be the type to immerse himself in creative work—most likely swordsmithing, just like Thorin.

But Gunz was a completely different lad from either of his brothers, and with emotion welling in his heart, Fili recalled what Gandalf had said when he'd held Gunnar for the first time—the lad had been a newborn baby, no bigger than little Kirin…

"Ah," Gandalf breathed. "Do you know this one has the soul of Frey? The protector of peace and contentment," Gandalf's voice had been kindly and soothing. "Do not worry. Frey was a formidable swordwielder, enemy of outlaws, and known for his great bravery and wisdom." He had smiled and handed the wriggling bundle back to Fili, giving the touch of blessing to the lad's forehead. "He will bring you joy and happiness Fili, Mahal willing."

Mahal willing, Fili reflected. If Gandalf had spoken true, then Gunnar would need a very well-rounded education.

"Gunz will need to be skilled in many things," Fili said. "Not only stonesmithing," he smiled at the old Master. "Even though it's in his blood, you might say. I'd be honored to have you guide his teaching in that respect," Fili put his hand on the Master's shoulder in the warrior's greeting. The stonemaster nodded to show that he understood: Prince Gunnar would be expected to master many things. Weapons, forge, stone, law and lore...even healing.

"I am at your service," the Master said. He bowed his head to Erebor's King. He was a Master Stonesmith, and it was a given that he understood patience.

Nÿr and little Kirin made the rounds of the party guests early on, receiving much advice about sleep schedules, feeding, and matters of sunlight.

"Keep him well underground for the first year. It forges the bond to the stone, you know," one old mother advised, her craggy features softened by Kirin's shameless flirting.

Nÿr knew better than to argue. "That long?" she replied, holding firm to her lad, who was currently squirming in delight at all the attention. That would change, she knew, the moment he decided he was hungry. He'd already shown a hint of his father's ability to stoke and sustain a warrior's fury, especially if hungry and particularly if in need of a good bath.

Another elderly grandmother tsked. "No harm in sunlight. Pay no heed to that tripe, dearie. A lad needs to see the sky above as much as the stone below. Especially," she winked. "A Durin-blooded Ravenspeaker."

Nÿr secretly agreed with the old grandmother and she smiled, leaning closer so the elderly lass could lend a gnarled finger for Kirin to grab. But she couldn't help feeling relieved when her lad fell soundly asleep, exhausted despite the excitement. Kili walked them back to their rooms, hinted that Embur could certainly be trusted with babysitting, but Nÿr shook her head, pressed her forehead to his, and traced the line of his jaw with one hand.

"This night is for you and your brother, love. I'll be here...and Mahal knows I'll take any chance at some uninterrupted sleep." It was true. And one thing she had always told new mothers as a healer was not to ignore themselves in the first months: sleep when the baby sleeps.

He'd nodded and smiled shyly before excusing himself. They understood each other very well, she and Kili.

And Nÿr was glad, to be honest, not to stay among the mothers who were farewelling their lads and lasses tonight. She felt that day for her would come all too soon and for now, she wanted nothing more than to savor the time with Kirin in his sweet baby days. She loved her Lord Husband and their quiet, lovely home...and she marveled at all she'd done in the past few years.

Queen of Khelethur. She snorted at herself. "Chief diaper changer," she laughed softly, settling Kirin in his bed and tucking the blanket around his backside. "And glad of it, mister."

Kirin just slept, sounding like a well-fed purring kitten with his little baby snores.

Kili tolerated the bitter brew they made in Ered Luin, but he missed Erebor's brewmasters and the varieties they produced. Across the table, Bofur looked morosely at his tankard.

"Ah, give 'em a few years," Fili slammed his mug on the table. "I don't recall Erebor brews being much in the early days," he said quietly.

Kili suspected his brother was smugly glad that Erebor had a leg up on the Blue Mountains when it came to ales. But he nodded even as he looked askance at the weak brew before him. Then he grinned. "If you don't mind," he said to his brother. "I'm going to ride back as far as Hobbiton with you."

Fili raised an eyebrow and laughed out loud. "Shopping for a few cartloads of good Shire Ale?" Bofur perked up.

Kili looked stern. "That, and maybe an apprentice or two." He winked.

Bofur held up his tankard in salute. "That," he said. "Is the best idea I've heard all day, laddie."

They smacked their mugs together as laughter erupted around them.

"That...and I promised a visit to a certain young hobbit." The three of them looked at each other in all seriousness. The three of them represented exactly half of the surviving members of Thorin's company now...Dwalin, old Dori, and Bombur remained in Erebor. Half the number that had set out from Bag End all those years ago.

"To the Company," Kili said, holding his mug up again.

"The Company," Fili and Bofur agreed.

Early the next morning, Kili said goodbye to Nÿr. Kirin was far too young for traveling, and Kili needed Nÿr to remain in Khelethur. She would now be Ered Luin's only ravenspeaker, and she would need to be out morning, noon, and night to hear any news and quickly pass it to Brunsder and Brunsmund, and new lads from Erebor who would be staying on as honor guard. Kili of course, knew every one of them.

"I won't be gone more than a sevenday, and I'll come back quite safe," he murmured to her as they kissed in private.

"Keep Skirfir close by." She hugged him tight.

"Of course, love." He'd breathed in the scent of her—fresh and beautiful...and just a little bit like baby soap.

So on a clear spring morning, Kili set out from Ered Luin with his brother, both of them on ponies side-by-side. Skirfir rode ahead, very much on alert, and Gunz rode beside him, mindful of his riding form and of the new bow and quiver on his back. He glanced over his shoulder, reassuring himself that his father was not far away.

Kili smiled. Someday soon that would be Kirin riding his own pony with his first weapons.

By evening they were at the very standing stones where Kili had been crowned.

"The stag came right through here?" Fili asked.

Kili nodded. "He was just confused by all the excitement," Kili conceded. "But everyone took it as some kind of sign," he shrugged.

Of course, Kili's new emblem with the raven-encircled stag-head shield was apparent on everyone's gear.

That night they sat around a campfire and looked up at the night sky. The brothers fell into habits gained from a lifetime of patrolling and traveling...and after dinner was served and ponies tended, the Guard put themselves on watch shifts.

Fili smoked, Kili worked on repairing a bridle strap, and Gunz rose to feed an apple core to his staked-out pony. Skirfir stood nearby, bow at hand, his attention on the wildland around them.

A nighthawk screeched.

Gunz turned back to his Da, eyes wide. He drew his belt knife, narrowed his eyes, and took one step closer to Skirf.

"Just a nighthawk looking for his dinner," Skirfir murmured.

Gunz nodded, but he still looked grim and ready to fight.

Fili and Kili looked at each other. Gone were the days when they would have teased a hobbit for being skittish, yet neither of them missed the semblance to that night so long ago when they'd poked fun at Bilbo, annoyed their uncle, and been lectured by Balin.

"Come sit," Fili invited his son. Gunz, ever dutiful, sheathed his knife and went to his father's side.

"There's a story old Dwalin's brother told us one night around a campfire very much like this one," Fili said.

Kili nodded and tested the buckle on his repaired bridle. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror marched to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria…" he began.

Gunz sat, entranced. He knew the family history, of course. But he'd never heard it from his father and uncle around a campfire.

Even Skirfir, Kili's fosterling-turned-swordbrother had not heard the tale from the brothers themselves and he listened intently as Kili went on.

"Thorin stood alone against this terrible foe," Fili said when Kili paused. "His armor in pieces, holding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield..."

Kili glowered. "But Azog the Defiler learned that the line of Durin could not be broken."

Gunz sat wide-eyed and still as the story went on. His hands clenched around his knife hilt when he heard the part about Thror's death.

"Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back," Kili continued. "And the enemy was beaten, but there was no feast or song that night...our dead were beyond the count of grief."

Fili finished the story. "Very few had survived," he said quietly. "And when old Balin saw Thorin after the battle was over, still standing and ready to defend our people...he knew. Thorin was the one he could follow, the one he could call King."

"And the Pale Orc?" Gunz asked. "What happened to him?"

Fili and Kili looked at each other. "Dead," they said firmly, looking back at Gunz with stone-cold expressions.

Gunz sat taller. "Good," he said, giving them his best war-face. "Saves me the trouble."

Kili raised an eyebrow. Had they ever been that young?

Fili pretended to cough and busied himself with cleaning his pipe.

They made it to Hobbiton the next day around mid-afternoon, having ridden through the midst of the Shire in peace with their weapons stowed out of sight. The blossoms were out in the orchards and the hobbits of the Shire were far too busy to give more than a passing nod to travelling dwarves out of the Blue Mountains.

They found lodgings at the Green Dragon, securing the use of a barn for the ponies and most of the Guard and apprentices. Gunz, it was agreed, would be staying close to Skirfir and seeing himself into a bath.

Kili and Skirf would turn back for home on the morrow, and Fili would be meeting up with Merry and lads from Buckland for an escort on to Rivendell. A message was sent ahead to Merry by way of the Quick Post, and the hobbit lad who showed them to their rooms assured them that Mr. Merry would most certainly arrive the next day before noon.

As they settled into a cozy hobbit room for four, Gunz had a hundred questions about Merry Brandybuck. Luckily, Skirfir was just the lad to introduce him to the topic of traveling with hobbits.

By early evening, Fili and Kili had cleaned off their road grime, shed their responsibilities, and slipped out of the pub in plain traveling gear. Together, they found their way up the hill.

It looked much the same, actually, as it had all those years ago.

"Don't go wiping your feet on the furniture," Fili whispered.

Kili snorted. "At least I wasn't caught walking on the table."

"I'm not the one who mangled his name."

"You were…" Kili stopped. They were there. The grassy hillside, the little gate...the curving stone garden stairs up to the round green door.

They went up the steps in near reverence and Fili reached out to ring the bell, same as he'd done that night more than eighty years earlier.

They stood, Kili on his brother's left, and listened. Was anyone home?

And then the door opened. "I've told you Tom, just use the back do…"

A rather startled-looking hobbit with curly brown hair stopped mid-sentence and stared at them, mouth open, one arm out on the handle.

Fili introduced himself, standing regal as the King he was. "Fili," he said.

"And Kili," Kili grinned, knowing that Sam would recognize him.

They both bowed. "At your service."

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Ah! Thank you SO MUCH for reading. Please feel free to tell me what you thought about the final chapter, the overall story, anything! All feedback welcome.

GIANT thanks to BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala (who moved her whole family since last I posted) and to Jessie152.

And THAT leads me to the next bit of news...!

Contrary to my intentions at the end of the last chapter, I've embarked in a project with Jessie152 to revise the FIRST story so that Jessie can repost the series in German!

If you'd like to see it, the German version has now been posted as writer "summerundJessie," story title "Erebor 3022 - 1: Cursebearer - Die letzten Schatten Morguls" I must say, it's quite fascinating to see one's work in a different language. Hugs to Jessie, and please take a look!

To coincide with the German version, I am posting the chapter revisions under the story name "Erebor: 3022, Cursebearers story 1 (revised.)"

I do think I will eventually pick up the tales again, but I actually find it difficult to work on more than one project at a time-and I *do* have a day job, lol.

On a final note, I'm off to COMIC CON SAN DIEGO in just a couple weeks! I know I'll see Nenithiel there, but if anyone else will be there, drop me a note and let's chat about saying Hi!

You are also welcome to follow my Twitter: "at" Summeralde (Summer goes to comic con...!) I don't normally post much there, but I will tweet the SDCC experience if you'd like to be a virtual con buddy.

Much love to you all...I feel quite honored to have met you here online!

Summer