A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

A Promise

It took Thorin a few moments to understand what Roac was saying to him; a few moments for it to fully sink in what had happened.

The dragon was dead.

Smaug was dead.

By Durin's beard, Smaug the Terrible was dead!

"H-how?" He choked, a strange emotion bubbling inside his chest.

Hope?

Surely this could not be true? Surely it was a jest...

Oh Mahal, he hoped not!

"We bear this news from Master Beorn and the grey wizard who claim that Bard of Dale and Laketown was the one to fell the beast. His black arrow struck the weakness on the dragon's chest."

Thorin's gaze darted to Lyla and he watched as the hobbit's eyes went wide, her mouth opened slightly.

"Beorn? He was there? And they...Oh Aule it worked...?" she murmured dazedly, disbelievingly, her gaze unfocused, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

It was a fetching sight, Thorin had to admit.

Dwalin, who stood next to her, was grinning and clapping his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Aye lass," He remarked jovially, "Ye did well."

'Yes.' Thorin agreed silently, frowning at the memory of Lyla stumbling from the tunnel, golden hair curling wildly about her head, her coat blazing brightly. 'Foolishly well.'

But he couldn't keep his thoughts focused on his ire.

Or the fact that HE had prepared to do something just as brash and foolish as anything the hobbit had thought up on this journey.

No indeed, he wouldn't focus on such things.

Though, he was certainly going to finish his conversation with her about her foolhardiness.

For now, though?

Thorin's smile widened and a soft sigh escaped his lips as he turned to gaze around at the mountain before him, the warm golden glow of coins sending a jolt of eagerness down his spine.

For now, he could and would revel in the joy of just being home.

His true home.

*****

Thorin shot Lyla a smile, his face alight and jovial, blue eyes sparkling brightly.

She'd never seen him so...relieved and unburdened.

So happy.

"Come!" he called out, his rich voice echoing in the massive cavern as he extended an arm outward in gesture to the sea of gold. A small chuckle escaped his lips, "Let us enjoy this moment! We are home!"

A collective cheer rose among the company members.

"Aye it's about time!" Dwalin called out jokingly his lips turned upwards into a smirk, as he winked down at the hobbit.

And then he gave Lyla a gentle nudge to move down the steps as the rest of the company started downwards as well, past the large raven Roac who still sat perched in the stairwell, and towards the mounds of treasures heaped into glittering mountains wherever Lyla's gaze landed.

She walked slower than the rest of the company, letting the eager dwarves move past her.

Her thoughts pushed her to hesitate on the steps.

While she was pleased-more than pleased-that Smaug was dead, pleased that the dwarves were home, and pleased that she never had to think about a fire-breathing beast, or trolls, or wargs, or...Azog, trepidation still flowed in her veins.