Heart Like Yours

Chapter 24: baby

"WE WILL GET THIS MAHAL DAMNED BOX OPEN!!!" Roared Thorin at his company as they used their finest tools and even their finest weapons to chip away and tear at the large stone, tomb-like chest.

It was a fine chest, black stone with fine curlicue patterns carved and inlaid with gold all over. The patterns had precious stones set to catch the light and it was a truly beautiful piece of craftsmanship. It was also locked. Being such a fine chest, in pride of place on a dais above all the other jewels, it led Thorin to believe that this chest might contain something of incredible value. It was large and so finely decorated. Nothing else in the entire dragon's hoard had been so well looked after. Not a single speck of dust marred the gleaming black stone. Not one coin was carelessly placed atop the casket looking chest.

Thorin didn't know why he searched so madly but he had to know what was in this chest. His fingers were bruised, sweat streaked across his face, his eyes reddened and itching. He just needed more gold. He had to get more gold. He had to!

With a cracking groan the lock on the chest finally broke. With a final heave Dwalin pushed the lid off of the casket and the company took a step back as Thorin took a step forward. There was nothing that could have prepared him for what he found. Thranduil's words rang in his mind, as did the Elvenking's fury.

There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems. Pure starlight.

Thorin had been enraged at the audacity of such a request. He had lost more than mere trinkets in the fall of Erebor.

Do not talk to me of dragon fire, I know it's wrath and ruin. I have faced the great serpents of the north. I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. He would not listen. You are just like him.

It hadn't made sense, the loss of composure. The reveal of his scars. Why would Thranduil show such to a dwarf? And how dare Thranduil blame his grandfather for the fall of Erebor?! It was the Elvenking himself that had betrayed the dwarves, not the other way around! At least he had thought so...

But now...

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes were wide and staring. The rest of the company was the same. He wasn't sure a single breath was shared among them as they stared into the casket. Thorin's first thought had been more apt then he'd realised. The stone chest was, in fact, a tomb. And within, lie the body of an elfling child. Perfectly preserved, as though even death could not mar the fabled elven beauty.

The child was heart breakingly beautiful. He had short spikes of golden hair, that curled ever slightly to frame his smooth face. His cheeks rounded with his youth, his lashes darker against his skin. His ears pointed delicately into his short hair, and Thorin had never seen an elf with short hair before. A golden circlet rested upon his head with a fine purple amethyst on his brow.

The body was slim, wrapped in fine white and silver vestments of the finest silks. They shone and the boy's hands were pale and still resting against his chest. On his neck he wore a finely made necklace of white jewels, threaded and hung on delicate silver chains. His face was young, and graced with the beauty of his race, although his eyebrows were darker than his hair and even in the dim light of the caverns, Thorin could see the resemblance between this boy and Thranduil. He also looked strangely like his friend Elanor.

And he understood. He finally understood the Elvenking's rage. How could he not? Thorin felt a tear trickle down his face, King Thranduil had lost a son and his wife...

Fili and Kili were his sons more than not, to imagine finding either of them this way... Thorin's heart constricted in his chest and he let out a long shaky breath, feeling his mind clear in a way it hadn't been for many a day. He could see now, how blinded was he by the gold, but he could see now. Thranduil's rage had been that of an aggrieved father. He took a breath, fillings his lungs with deep, mountain air. He understood now.

"Fili, Kili, separate the gold, I want enough put aside to assist Bard and his rebuilding, we will honour our word to Laketown." Thorin turned to his nephews, trusting them as his heirs and as his sons. He knew that they would carry out this task. "Oin, Dori, Balin, find any other elf treasures and separate them so that we might return them to King Thranduil. Dwalin, you're with me. The rest of you? Tear down that wall. Now."

There were mixed looks of relief and disbelief amongst his company but they rushed to fulfil his orders nevertheless. Thorin stepped up to the casket and looked once more down at the elf boy within. He felt more himself than he had in days. On principle he hated the elves, but even he could not be so callous as to condemn a child – no matter their race.