[Annunfuiniel]

All of a sudden there was a groping hand. Vráin turned around abruptly, still fuming with Farin’s words.

"What now?" he threw in – right to his brother’s face. Gráin’s expression warned him never again to start a conversation with him like that but Vráin was in no mood for such subtle hints.

"I should ask that same question from you or rather: 'What is going on with you?' The whole camp could hear you two fighting!"

"Women!" was all that Vráin could say.

"Hush it down! Farin’s secret is not yours to reveal."

"Oh what do you know about anything!" Vráin muttered and walked off, if possible in ever darker mood.

Gráin watched after him but judged it better to leave him alone for a while. Vráin needed to cool off first. Gráin knew only too well that had he gone to preach at his brother he would do just the opposite that he’d suggest.

Gráin looked around the camp and towards where the horses and ponies grazed but Farin was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and walked through the campsite, gesturing on his way to Rowan, Alcyávëiel and others that everything was fine again – though he doubted if he managed to convince anyone to believe that.

Finally Gráin came to Selvren and slumped down by his side. The elf had placed his quiver between his knees and now fiddled with the fletchings of his arrows. Wisely he did not rush the dwarf but waited for him to speak up. Gráin took Selvren's silvery longbow and tested it’s string, just to have something to do with his hands.

"Women!" Gráin suddenly blurted out; "All he can say is 'Women!'! Poor brother, he still has much to learn…" Gráin shook his head and Selvren tried to suppress a burst of laughter.

* * * * * * *

Finally Vráin saw Lenwe and Elentari return to the camp. The elves seemed troubled as they gathered the company around them. Rumours about what was going on had circled in the camp and caused confusion, to say the least. Now Elentari gave a concise account of the happenings and on what she and Lenwe had newly seen.

"So now you know our hope – and our doom if that hope should fail. What waits inside we do not know and that’s our greatest worry. We need to know more or it’ll all be a fool’s errand. We won’t take any more needless risks…yet someone has to go and contact the dwarf that we saw."

Elentari didn’t get a chance to continue when Vráin stepped forth and said solemnly:

"I will go."

So full of determination was his tone that no-one argued against him. For a moment there was a deep silence where the wind’s wailing cry in the rock fissures seemed deafening. At length Elentari broke the silence.

"So be it. What we have seen you look just like the dwarf you’re going to meet. I think that may prove an advantage though it’s not clear to me how."

Vráin turned and went to get his axe. Behind him tongues were released and the air was suddenly full of voices speaking simultaneously. But he didn’t hear them.All he could or even wanted to think of was his mission – his likely perilous yet somehow soothingly uncomplicated task.

His axe and helm lay on the ground where he had left them with his other gear and his pack. He picked up the helm and turned it in his hands. The spot where the blinding blow had struck was still clearly to be seen though Gráin had tried to fix it. Vráin put down the headpiece. A voice inside of him told him that he wouldn’t need it on this quest. After a moment of hesitation he took off his tunic, untied the leather bands of his chain-mail and let it slid to the ground with a soft chink and a heavy thud.

He shivered slightly in the cold night air before dressing again in his tunic and casting the dark blue cloak over his shoulders. Then he picked up his axe and turned to face the climb with lighter burden on his legs but not on his heart. As he lowered his eyes from the mountain peak he saw Gráin coming towards him.

"Vráin," the older brother began as he reached Vráin; "Let us not depart in wrath." Gráin spoke naught of Farin for the subject was obviously still too tender to him. Instead he put his hand on Vráin’s shoulder and anxiety was clearly to be heard in his following words. "You have grown so much during this quest. I can’t explain it but I feel it… Remember what you have learned and take care of yourself, brother."

In his haste Vráin was about to answer in his characteristic manner and the words 'As always' already formed on his lips. But a quick look at his brother’s face halted his tongue. May be that this is the last time we’ll ever see each other. As this realization finally struck Vráin he placed his own hand on Gráin’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes as he spoke;

"I will. Farewell, dear brother; till our next meeting…"

* * * * * * *

Vráin wasn’t altogether sure how he ever managed the sheer climb in the darkness, intensified by the smoke that came rolling down the mountain side in the now nearly windless air. But finally he peeked between two great boulders to the flat opening before the cave’s entrance. For a while all he could do was pant and watch around.
No living creature was there to be seen but from the dragon’s lair there came a faint sound of – hammering? Hammer and anvil! Vráin thought, quite fittingly; What on earth is going on over there?

But he had no time for further musings as presently he heard the sound of footsteps echoing in the tunnel behind the cave’s yawning mouth. Vráin strained to see and hear better while at the same time his right hand tightened around the handle of his axe. Suddenly the echoes died away as a grey figure stepped out and stopped under the very arch of the cave’s entry.

"Perin!" Only with great difficulty Vráin managed to smother his cry into a whisper. Wait a little longer! he told himself; He has to get further away from the cave.

Vráin watched as Perin, though nothing more than a deeper shadow among shadows, walked to a pile of firewood and picked up a small hatchet. His hands clenched the haft of the weapon and with one mighty blow he hewed asunder a great log. Even from a distance and through the veiling darkness Vráin could perceive the dwarf’s frustrated anger and despair.

Behind the rocks, slowly and cautiously, Vráin crept forward out of the sight of the menacing gap on the stone wall. Perin raised the hatchet over his head for another chop.

"Perin!" came out Vráin’s low yet this time audible call and Perin’s blow went astray. But in a blink his axe was again raised and the whites of his keen eyes gleamed as he searched the landscape and tried to locate the speaker. Vráin stepped out from his hiding and spoke calmingly.

"Perin, your enemy is inside – but from the outside come friends and aid!" The hatchet fell to the ground with a soft clang. Vráin heard Perin gasp.

"So I wasn’t dreaming! I really saw an elf earlier. Aulë has heard my prayers! The aid is come, beyond hope the aid has come…" Wonder, disbelief; joy and fear alternated in Perin’s tone and he trembled. Vráin came quite close to him when suddenly Perin’s expression changed again, to reflect ever greater amazement.

"You… Who are you? How is it possible that you know my name?!"

"My name is Vráin and sons of Thráin are at your service as my brother is here too. I mean down there, quite near." Vráin spoke hastily and gestured vaguely somewhere behind him. "We are a group of hunters, a dozen strong – the dragon hunters. So your fates are known to us and that’s why we are come: to set you free and rid Middle-earth from this beast."

While speaking Vráin watched Perin closely but at the moment he had no time to reflect upon his observations. Indeed, the night was already old and some foreboding warned Vráin that they couldn’t afford any more delays: every second was precious. He rushed to continue.

"The elf you saw in the evening: he’s Lenwe, our guide. He spied the smoke column coming out from the mountain top. There must be a great fire inside! What is it for? We have planned to attack through that crack in the roof. And that’s why I’m here: to contact you so we’ll know what is happening inside."

* * * * * * *

Child’s post:

Perin looked over at Vrain and sighed, "The big fire..... That's a very long story. But that cursed fire is the reason all of us are here. Every captive held inside that cave, both Elf and Dwarf, have special skills in crafting metals, especially in the working of iron. That is why Glawr has brought us to this place. He has carefully selected the best smiths and artisans in all of Middle-earth and we are required to do his bidding day and night slaving over the work."

"But what kind of work is this?" demanded Vrain. "What could a dragon possibly want with objects of iron? I can imagine a dragon who might wish to have folk craft beautiful golden vessels or to create wondrous jewelry with the fine gemstones he's accumulated in his hoard. But iron? I have never heard of any dragon who made use of iron."

Perin shook his head, "When I first came here, I asked myself that as well. I even thought Glawr might be raving mad to keep us so busy on such a strange project. But now I know differently. If that dragon is mad, it is the madness of one who is canny beyond belief. For Glawr has ordered us to work on creating a suit of mail armor for himself that is sturdier and offers more protection than any other in Middle-earth, even harder than those objects made of mithril. Many a day, I've spent from sunrise to midnight working beside that huge bonfire using the special ingredients that the dragon brings to us from hidden caves and other places deep in the bowels of the earth."

Vrain's voice was deep with fear and wonder when he spoke again, "You have succeeded then? You have made such wondrous armor?"

Perin turned away in shame and hid his head, "I wish I could tell you 'no', but it is sadly true. This huge suit of armor is almost done. It is intended to cover the dragon's underside and protect the one soft spot on his belly. The miraculous alloy we've crafted is even superior to mithril. I can not say how it is made, for none of us know all the secret ingredients that the dragon brought us to mix together. But we are this close to finishing." Perin held up his two palms spaced only an inch apart. "Two more days at the most, and the deed will be done."

"And once Glawr puts on this suit?" questioned Vrain.

"Then there is no stopping him. If I had understood all this when we first began, I would have refused to do the wyrm's bidding, even if it meant my own death. But he hid his purposes from us. We thought it was just some silly project of a madman. But now, he must be stopped. We must work together to kill him and destroy that terrible suit which can only be used for evil. Otherwise, he will bring death to more innocent folk that I can imagine and his miraculous armor will protect him from any reprisals."

Vrain looked up seriously, "We must not only act then, but act very quickly to stop this dragon from bringing great ill to Middle-earth. How can we put out this fire?"

"The fire," Perin looked over at Vrain and smiled slyly. "Actually, I've dreamed about that for a very long time, for I would love to trick this beast just as he has tricked us. But you must promise to keep this thing secret until we can carry it out." With that he leaned over to Vrain and whispered something in his ear for a considerable space of time.

At the end of the whispering, Vrain leaned back and roared, "It would indeed be good to trick this beast with a little of his own vanity! Master Perin, I think you have hit upon a plan."

* * * * * * *

Annunfuiniel’s post

Vráin’s exclamation had quite an unexpected effect on Perin. To Vráin it seemed like a dark cloud had shifted from the dwarf’s face and taken off the weight of many a tormenting year. Suddenly Perin laughed: a quiet, sheer laughter of joy and relief rang there where destruction and doom awaited just around the corner.

The very echo of that sound pierced Vráin’s heart. That laughter… Of course it has to be the same… Vráin saw Farin’s smiling face in his mind as clearly as on that most beautiful of all mornings, in the light of the rising sun.

Guilt flooded over him and nearly struck him down. Farin! What a fool I have been! 'Thrice a fool', Gráin would surely say. But no, that’s far too mildly put. Oh gods, what made me speak that way? How can she ever forgive me?… Farin!

Perin’s laughter died as suddenly as it had began.

"Farin?" he breathed sharply; "Did you say Farin?!"

Vráin noticed only too late that he had spoken his last words out loud. This once he blessed the darkness as it covered his flushing. But Perin’s expression it couldn’t veil; and Vráin felt his anxiety like his own. Suddenly he saw things clearly again and he knew how he could make amends for his harsh words.

"Yes. And yes, I meant Farin, your sister. Through great perils and sorrows she has come here – all for you, to see you again."

Perin fell on his knees. "Why… How is that possible? She should never have been allowed to come!"

"For some reason everyone thought her to be a man…" Perin’s dubious glance forced a small smile to Vráin’s lips. "Yes, we were all blind! But now I know what we must do: Perin, you must go to the camp to see her. She misses you and needs you! Actually our whole company needs your counsels. For you can help us plan the attack to the cave. You know it: where the captives are, where the dragon sleeps and all. Yes, that’s it!"

Perin stood and stared at the ranting dwarf, once again unsure of how to react. "But I should go inside already. If I leave the dragon kills someone." Hope vanished from his glance; "No, I must stay here."

"No, listen! There is a way…" Vráin began. "Now I remember Lenwe’s words and they have given me an idea. 'He looked just like Vrain.' Yes, that’s what he said and though I doubted those words I now see that there’s some truth in them. We look quite alike, especially in the eyes of others than dwarves." Vráin paused to glance at Perin. "So you see now? We could change places, you and I. I will go to the dragon’s lair and you climb down to the camp."

Perin wasn’t assured yet and he tried to argue against Vráin. But Vráin’s mind was already resolved.

"Here," he said and pulled his tunic over his head; "take this and give me yours: that should fool his sense of smell. And take my axe too, I can’t step into that cave carrying it with me. But these I shall keep, just in case..." Vráin patted his belt holding half a dozen throwing knives before he slipped into Perin's coat. Immediately he was surrounded by a repulsive smell of which there could be no mistake: Rats! What else... "Now tell me quickly all I need to know about those caverns and the bloody beast! Then you’ll hear how to descend that slippery slope..."

Ten minutes later Vráin watched as Perin took his first steps down the mountain side. Shadows had nearly swallowed his dark figure when Vráin saw him halt and look back.

"Go on." He urged; "Farin has waited long enough." Vráin hesitated but then, remembering that this might be his last chance ever to speak those words, he continued. "And Perin… Tell Farin that I’m sorry. That is all I have words for, the rest she’ll know in her heart…" And with that he turned towards the dragon’s lair and walked inside while Perin watched him go and wondered what he had meant with those last words.

[ July 10, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]