In Time

Chapter Thirty-Three

The forges were at the very bottom of the city, and as they descended, the cold bit into Amara with the sharpest of teeth. She wrapped her arms about herself, trying to stave off the shivering, for all the good it did. Thorin grew very somber, not saying much, and when they stepped into the enormous cavern. She looked over to see him looking about as if seeing it all for the first time.

There were four enormous forges, all cold now, and she stared at the middle of the room, where the floor looked to be of solid gold. Something lay heaped in the middle of that floor, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"Thorin?"

He pulled free of her grasp, stepping ahead of her, near the edge of that golden floor. "The last time I was in this room, in Erebor, actually, I didn't sleep much, or maybe not even a'tall," he said, his voice soft and distant. He walked the perimeter of the gold without looking at her. "I didn't eat. I didn't wish to speak with anyone. I wanted them to find that blasted stone. It was all I cared about. All that mattered."

He stepped out onto the gold and for a moment, Amara thought it might turn to liquid and swallow him, which was foolish, really, as it was obviously solid. Still, she held her breath as he crossed to the heap and crouched to pick it up.

It was a robe. Long and dark green, with a thick ruff of dark fur. He stared at it for a moment, then turned back to her. "He'd found it, you know, Bilbo. I don't know how, but he did. And he went to Thranduíl with it. He betrayed me, stole from me, or at least, that was how I saw it when he confessed to me."

She didn't know if he expected her to answer or not, but she said nothing. The last thing she wanted was him shutting down again. He described a man she didn't know, and with each word, his story worsened. And yet, she remained quiet, hands clasped in front of her, eyes on him, and she just... listened.

"I was called up to the rampart. I don't remember who did it, perhaps it was Bilbo himself, I cannot recall right now, but the Woodland army had gathered at our gates, along with Bard and the people of Esgaroth. They all wanted what was mine. They all demanded I give them that which they had no right to claim."

His voice grew harder now, angrier, and his eyes seemed to brighten as he stared down at the robe in his grasp. "It was mine. This was all mine. How dare they make such demands of me?"

His voice grew rougher and he turned abruptly, stalking toward the far edge of the floor. He bent again, and swiped up something, but she couldn't tell what that something was. Her heart picked up its pace as his voice grew harsher still when he said, "And I was not about to give up my treasure. And then, Bard held up the Arkenstone."

Now he turned to her and she could see what he held in his other hand. A crown of gold and onyx, emblazoned with what looked like a raven. "Someone betrayed me. Bilbo betrayed me. He accepted my offering of friendship to him—a mithril shirt—and all the while, he knew—he knew he'd given that blasted stone to Thranduíl."

A hint of fear uncurled in her belly. "Thorin—"

He met her gaze then. "I ordered Dwalin to toss him from the ramparts and when he refused, I tried to do it myself, but the wizard showed up and—" He drew in a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he turned his gaze back to the crown and robe. "I told them I'd have war then. I would not honor the terms of the bargain I'd made because, in my reasoning, I'd had no choice but to bargain what was my birthright. If war was what they wished, so be it. I didn't care. I wasn't giving them a single coin from that blasted hoard."

"You were not yourself, though."

"Of course I was. Madness runs in my family, Amara. Even Elrond voiced his concerns about it the first time I'd been in Rivendell. They didn't know I was there, didn't know I'd heard them discussing my sanity. Do you know how that feels, to hear your name bandied about along with the word mad? To have them look you in the eye and encourage you to take back what is rightfully yours, all the while knowing they are just biding their time until you go mad, because they know it's only a matter of time before it happens?" Anger shadowed his words now. "The Mad King Under the Mountain. That was to be my legacy. Never mind what I tried to do to reclaim this city, never mind what I did to make a home for my people in the Blue Mountains—The Mad King Under the Mountain. That is how I would be remembered—a raving lunatic who chose war over peace out of greed."