The Hobbit: Lessrien Ancalimë

Chapter Thirteen

Thorin

I sit upon my throne, contemplating the best way to wait out this war. How best to make sure everything remains safe. Dwalin approaches me.

"Since when do we forsake our people?" He asks. "Thorin, they are dying out there!" He informs me, but they are of no concern of mine.

"There are halls beneath halls within this mountain - places we can fortify." It seems the best option to keep us safe in these halls. "Shore up, make safe. Yes..." I look up at Dwalin. "...Yes - that is it. We must move the gold further underground - to safety!" I begin walking away, heading down to start making preparations to move the gold.

"Did you not hear me?! Dain is surrounded! They're being slaughtered, Thorin!" Dwalin shouts at me.

"Many die in war. Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend!" I reply to him. There is no greater sacrifice than to die protecting that which was hard won.

"You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been." Dwalin states, looking at me with some kind of sorrow in his face.

"Do not speak to me as if I was some lowly Dwarf lord..." There is a pain in my head. "As-As if I were still...Thorin...Oakenshield." I turn back to Dwalin. "I AM YOUR KING!" I shout and draw my sword but I have lost my balance and almost fall over.

"You were always my king. You used to know that once." Dwalin bows his head with that same sorrow. "You cannot see what you have become."

"Go! Get out...before I kill you." I order. He meets my eyes and for a few moments we stare at each other. When he turns and leaves I look to the end of the walkway and I see Lessrien standing in the doorway.

Her green eyes meet mine and I see pain in them and they shine with unshed tears. Kili appears in front of her and he says something to her that I do not hear. They turn and Kili leads the elfling away.

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I walk down the hall where I tried to drown Smaug in molten gold. I stare at my reflection in the gold. In my mind memories of things I have said and of things that have been said to me echo.

"You sit here...with a crown upon your head...you are lesser now than you have ever been..." Dwalin's look of sorrow flashes in my mind then he's turning and walking away.

"...but a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost..."

"...a sickness lies upon that treasure..." Balin's worried expression follows his warning words.

"...the blind ambition of a mountain-king..."

"...AM I NOT THE KING..."

"...this gold...is ours...and ours alone..."

"...treasure..."

"...YOU GAVE THEM YOUR WORD..."

"...I will not part with a single coin.."

"...he could not see beyond his own desire..."

"...as if I was some lowly Dwarf lord..."

"...Oakenshield..."

"...a sickness that drove your grandfather mad..."

"...Oakenshield..."

"...this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror..."

"...I am not my grandfather...my grandfather."