by my oath [oakenshield] [spin-off]

six

TISSUES MAY BE NEEDED BECAUSE TBH I STARTED CRYING A LITTLE DURING THIS CHAPTER. AND MOMENT OF SILENCE TO APPRECIATE HOW BEAUTIFUL THORIN LOOKS PLEASE.

coming back

Thorin watched. Just... watched. He watched as his kin approached from the hill, he watched as his cousin smack talked the Elves, then he watched as the Were-worms tore a hole through the ground, and then the Orcs that charged towards his mountain, and then how his kin rode off to battle two minutes later.

He didn't intervene at all, just stood there... and watched.

"I'm going over," Fili said loudly. "Who's coming with me?!"

"I'm with you, brother!" Kili chimed, and the Dwarves all clamored in agreement.

"Stand down," Thorin grumbled lowly as he turned to go down the steps.

Kili and Fili glanced at each other before staring at their uncle incredulously. "Are we to do nothing?" Fili demanded.

"I said, stand down!" Thorin ordered loudly, more harshly this time. "This is not our fight."

The Dwarves just stared at their "King" as he walked away, wandering the halls until he finally reached his throne. There was a huge claw mark where the Arkenstone was supposed to be, and part of his chair was chipped. But he didn't care, it was still his throne, he was still the King Under the Mountain.

King of a worthless rock.

Thorin bared his teeth at the memory from not too long ago. How dare she, Anne Thranduileth, a lost Princess, insult Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin scoffed now, shaking his head because of the fact that she said she loved him. It was a lie, obviously. To him, he was no more than just another lowly Elf that used him, and now she was going to die in war.

And he was glad about it.

He was lost in thought, not even noticing Dwalin marching up to the throne. "Thorin," he began, "we must help Dain. They are being slaughtered."

Thorin sat up in his chair. "We must move the gold further down," he said to himself, totally ignoring Dwalin and standing up. "Take refuge and make safe. Yes, we move the gold further underground. A treasure such as this... it must not go to waste."

He started to walk away, totally oblivious to the fact that Dwalin was staring at his back in shock. He hopped up the brief flight of stairs and made Thorin whirl around. "Did you not hear me?" he demanded. "Dain is surrounded, Anne is using all of her strength to protect us. Fili and Kili just saw a vine catch a stone that was hurling towards Erebor. You cannot just let her die like this!"

Dwalin's words echoed through the mountain, but Thorin remained unfazed. "Many die in war," he said evenly with another scoff. "A simple Elf means nothing. She does not compare to the wealth that flows in this mountain. This gold... it is worth her blood. It is worth all the blood we can spend." Although he was still partly insane, his voice was breaking. Noticing this, Dwalin tried to use this as his advantage.

"You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser than ever before. You cannot see what you have become," he said sadly with a little shake of his head, his voice breaking. "Anne would be ashamed of you."

And then he left the throne without another word.

~>~>~>~>

Thorin roamed around the great hall, looking around. The floor was a solid gold from when the Dwarves had tried—and failed—to burn the dragon. He saw his own reflection bounce back at him, his hair flying behind his shoulders smoothly. There were a million voices in his head, and he tried his best to block them out.