On Fruni & Fikli
My distant cousin Fruni, our family's promised warrior who was held in high regard among the warriors of the Firebeards, and his uncle Fikli, a seasoned dwarf who had made the arts of war his sole occupancy in the long years of his life, had always been in an awkward relationship of mutual respect and rivalry.
Before Fruni's skill in battle was discovered, everyone knew Fikli as the dwarf who few could match in matters of the axe. His prowess in battle was proven by his actions during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. His ferociousness with the hammer was unequaled to everyone's knowledge.
When Fruni trained at the Dwarven barracks of Tumunzahar, his peculiar handling of the axe was seen as a great discovery. He could swing axes in a balanced combination of strength and dexterity. It was portended that he would become a great warrior, in the likes of the warriors of old who are still praised in song.
When the king appointed Fruni to lead a warband North to slay a Cold-Drake who inhabited their mines of old, Fikli took this as a grave insult and his relationship with Fruni soured. It was further worsened after Fruni slew the Cold-Drake and was hailed a hero upon their return.
However, Fruni did not need his uncle's disapproval. He blamed himself thrice as much already. Though praised for his feat, he was haunted by guilt for the many deaths under his watch. He lay down the axe for nearly 18 years, turning to the chisel and the hammer instead.
Meanwhile, Fikli took his rightful place as leader of the warband and used every opportunity to remind everyone of what happens when you put a stripling in command.
The two rarely spoke afterwards, and if they did, they were not of the kind sort. Not even when Fruni's father Fingar died. In fact, with Fingar's death their quarrel only worsened as Fikli was now Elder and he could demand anything of Fruni.
You see, it is rarely spoken off, but Fikli challenged Fruni into combat shortly after and Fruni came out victorious. I still remember the shadow that fell over Fikli's face as he lay defeated upon the ground. He never truly recovered from the embarrassment, which only added to the weight of his brother's loss. In the days thereafter he turned silent and resentful and terrible memories returned to him night and day, confining him to solitary rambling and sudden bursts of rage and fear and sadness too. Many said he had turned mad at long last, having seen too many things and perhaps they were right.
Nyr
*A new note begins here, clearly written at a later date*
I remember writing this not long ago. Had I known we were to embark upon our last journey together I would have perhaps been more prudent in my speech along the way. I may have always been a good scribe, but with spoken words I often seem callous, that much I will admit. Fruni was always the talker. He said all those things you needed to hear, even when you had no ears to spare. I regret not having listened to Fruni more in the past. He was such a wise dwarrow for a warrior. He saw things differently and he was not afraid to say it. Intolerance was strange to him, much like his grandfather, and he had the patience of a mountain like his father, at least in his older days. I miss him dearly.
*the page seems discoloured hither*
Fikli too has left not too small a hole in my heart. For while the dwarf was the most stubborn and surly of dwarves you could have ever met, and while he turned mad after the death of his brother, I will never forget that moment in the armoury of Erebor when he appeared in the doorway, a look on his face I had never seen, and grabbed us both with his head hanging low, tears running down his face. The moment may have only lasted for a jiffy, but it seemed almost as if a 100 winters had passed when we rose. And though he may have had his dark moments, in his last hour he shone like the warrior of old he was, his mighty hammer raised high, his grey hairs catching a breeze from the west, his bellowing voice crying out into the sky.
Fikli and Fruni may have been in enmity with each other for a great length of time, in the end they died side by side as heroes, the like which the world had not seen for centuries. I am proud to have lived in their time and to carry off their legacy into the fourth age of this world.
Nyr
Erebor year 1 FoA
