She dreams of Golden Hope

All This Devotion Rushes out of me

Book four: Tell me, when the end has come, how to best forget

„Everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me."- If you forget me. Pablo Neruda

He had failed.

He stood, his jaw tight and his spine rod-straight in tension, on the same vessel that had brought him from Esgaroth to Erebor and now back again. He looked down angrily: He had failed. He had been so sure that his plan would have worked out. He had been so confident when he had stood on the statue of his grandfather and had met the beast face-to-face. His heart had soared when he had seen Smaug go down in that sea of gold. He thought that after decades of bitterness and anger he had finally exacted his revenge upon the creature that had taken everything from him. He had believed that he had finally achieved what he had wanted for so long- ever since his life had become this dark abyss of pain.

He had failed.

His heart had sunk with dread when the beast had emerged from the golden liquid and had screamed, enraged and incensed, that he would show him what revenge truly meant. He had to watch, helplessly and despairingly, as the wrathful dragon had crashed through the stone gate of his kingdom and taken flight in the direction of Laketown. Laketown... where the rest of his company was, where his two nephews were.

Where she was.

He looked towards Bilbo Baggins to see the hobbit standing at the front of the boot with his arms drawn around himself. It had been a peculiar couple of hours, yet the one thing that he could recall more clearly than everything else was the conspicuous and longing glances that their burglar had shot over his shoulders. He closed his eyes as he remembered Bilbo's warm whisper of her name when they had stood at the entrance of his treasure chamber. He recalled that he had been angry, so angry, and determined to have the hobbit search for his Arkenstone and to not allow him to leave until he had received the gem from Baggins. His mind had been hazy with anger and want. But then at the sound of that name, he had blinked his eyes and the nebulous haze had retreated. He had seen clearly. He had seen the way Bilbo had looked over his shoulder with his brows drawn together in distress and a beseeching expression on his face.

For a moment Thorin had thought himself mad. Had thought that his longing for the young red-haired woman had become so all-consuming that he would find her present in every instance of his life. But then the hobbit had breathed her name once more and Thorin had become frantic. He had looked away from the burglar and to the space behind him where the hobbit's eyes were fixed. His eyes had searched desperately for a single glimpse, as small and fleeting as it may have been, of vibrant red or creamy skin. He had looked for her. Searched for her in hopes of finding her at his side, looking at him with her warm and loving smile. He had searched for her as he had stood in that chamber and had looked at his fallen people, he had searched for her, begging her to appear, as he had confronted Smaug.

A shiver of dread raced down his spine. Smaug had vowed that he would burn her heart out. If that beast took her... his world may as well disintegrate to ash. Had he not been so worried about her safety and her well-being he would never have admitted it, but... it was her and she had always, since the very first moments of their acquaintance, been able to plough through his barriers... been able to drive him mad... but without her nothing would matter any more. Not even his mountain nor his gold.

She was the deepest and most desperate desire of his heart.

Smaug had been able to recognize that. And he had bared all hell upon her due to the conspicuousness of his love for her.

He looked up to see Esgaroth in the horizon, burning as brightly as a newly-lit torch. As he studied the burning city, a haze he had not been aware of lifted from his mind. With utter clarity he looked towards the flames that rose from the settlement and a bitter taste spread in his mouth. For a moment he recognized the true extents of his actions. The dire consequences his quest had brought along with it. He recalled the words of the bargeman, yet as soon as he was reminded of those rebellious statements he shook his head angrily, unwilling to admit his culpability towards that poor excuse for a bowman.