Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

Twenty-Three

Fíli

Past the East-Hedge

3 January 2959

Fíli watched Thorin, Balin, and Oín perform the last rites. The ceremony reminded him of the mass graves after the Battle of Five armies. In those days the burials had become strangely commonplace. Now, Heptin's farewell was a sobering reminder that death was not so impossible for any of them. Fíli had hand-selected the dwarrow before, and each of his warriors was talented. He would have trusted any of them with his life. Heptin wasn't dead because of his own mistake but, simply, because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If circumstances had been different then it might have been Fíli or, worse, Kíli in place of Heptin.

Fíli glanced towards his younger brother. Kíli stood beside him in the ring, Tauriel at his little brother's side. Although the she-elf towered over all of them in terms of her height, she remained a quiet presence. The she-elf held Kíli's hand tightly in hers and, for a moment her piercing gaze met Fíli's. He never had problems with his sister-in-law, but in the moment Fíli knew that they were united in their fear. What if it was Kíli that they were fare welling? It was a fear that tore at Fíli. He had almost lost Kíli multiple times on the Quest. It was, however, only after the Battle of Five Armies that they had realized their own mortality. As though his little brother had read his mind, Kíli looked up in Fíli's direction. Kíli's eyes narrowed in a knowing suspicion and then he offered Fíli a small reassuring smile.

From the site of the cairn-to-be, Thorin's low baritone filled the clearing. Fíli took a steadying breath himself before adding to the mournful song. It was a warrior's farewell. The hymn to the dead simultaneously acted as a working song and each dwarf moved forward. Together, they used their strength to erect Heptin's final resting place.

When Fíli finally stepped back he knew that his cheeks were wet with tears of remembrance. He felt no shame, however, as he recognized the looks of grief on his other companions' faces. Heptin had been a good warrior and a loyal companion, but it wasn't just him that they grieved for. The rushed burial was a harsh reminder of the losses that they'd already faced. Heptin was simply one of many friends and comrades who they had been forced to give up.

They lingered by the gravesite out of respect. Fíli silently endured the increasing wind in a silent penance. Looking around at their miserable little group, Fíli recognized the shared guilt. Since the Fall of Erebor the dwarrow had prided themselves in their support of each other. They were homeless and penniless, but they'd always had each other.

Two figures caught Fíli's eye. Bilba and Raven stood huddled together. Although they were not on the edge of the group they remained separate from the grieving dwarrow. Fíli was struck, however, by the looks of wide-eyed grief on both faces. It was true, Bilba had been in the Battle of Five Armies. She had seen the ruins of Erebor firsthand but, she had left before the battle burials. This might also be Raven's first funeral, Fíli realized with another shock. Death had been a part of his life, Ered Luin had faced its hardships, but Raven had been sequestered away. Death was a new fear for her.

Wide blue eyes met his, but he could not give her the reassurance she sought and, quickly, she looked away. Raven was dressed in a thick cloak and light boots that Tauriel had made for her. Fíli could see, however, that his cousin was still fighting chills. Bilba herself looked little better and Fíli remembered how she'd struggled before on the Quest to stay warm.

"Thorin," Fíli said softly, moving towards his uncle. Thorin startled, clearing lost in his own memories and fears. "Bilba and Raven are cold," Fíli murmured, too quietly for either to hear. Thorin turned sharply, catching Bilba's attention as he focused on his One.