Daughter of Starlight

Chapter Twenty Five: No Hope

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I had never been one for dishonesty or sneaking around. And yet here I stood, down the hall from the throne room, out of sight of the dwarves and hobbit inside. Thorin had called Dwalin, Balin, and Bilbo to the throne room for a private counsel this morning, and I had merely been wandering the carven stone corridors when I happened upon them. I slowed my steps as I eavesdropped on them. My momentary fear that they were discussing my expulsion from the company disappeared as I listened.

"It is here in these halls. I know it," Thorin said, his tone dangerously low and insistent. He was angry, that much was evident. I should have known the Arkenstone was the only thing that he could have possibly wanted to discuss.

"We have searched and searched," Dwalin spoke.

"Not well enough," was Thorin's reply.

"Thorin, we would all see the stone returned," Dwalin tried to console him.

"And yet, it's still not found!" Thorin's sudden shout startled me, almost causing me to gasp and give away my position as I listened. An ominous echo encompassed the throne room and even managed to grip me as I stood outside.

"Do you doubt the loyalty of anyone here?" Balin finally dared to ask what had been on everyone's minds.

By now I had wandered into plain sight of the doorway to one of the doors to the throne room, one that looked in on the left side of the mighty dwarfish throne. I froze as I watched Thorin turn menacingly towards the elder dwarf.

"The Arkenstone is the birthright of our people," Balin said bravely.

"It is the king's jewel," Thorin said slowly, then shouted, "Am I not the king?"

Every person inside the throne room was silenced. They all knew there was no convincing Thorin that there were no seeds of disloyalty growing in the company. In this state, he believed whatever he wanted to, and nothing could sway him.

Thorin looked to the throne, a majestic chair that remained a symbol of dwarfish royalty despite its damage from the attack of Smaug. He was looking at the place the Arkenstone should have been mounted, where it would have reigned proudly as the most precious treasure in these halls.

He looked back at Dwalin and Balin, his voice reverberating in the halls. "Know this." My breathing hitched as he spoke to the dwarves in a dangerous tone, "If anyone should find it and withhold it from me, I will be avenged."

He then turned to leave the throne room, taking steps past Bilbo where he stood near the throne. As he raised his head, he saw me in the corridor, my eyes wide and my lips parted in shock. I could hardly believe what I had just witnessed. Never had I seen him be so cold with his own people. He had just outright threatened every member of the company . . . including me.

Thorin and I made eye contact, but I quickly averted my gaze as I headed back the way I came, not eager to start a confrontation with Thorin. Every time he'd seen me since I'd returned, the cold, angry look in his eyes had grown, and I knew that his sickness had made his hate for my kind grow. He had once been able to tolerate me, but now he could barely look at me without a snarl on his lips.

For the hundredth time I felt something pierce my heart, the pain of it bringing tears to my eyes. For reasons I could not fathom, every time that look reached me, it seemed to hurt me even more than the last. His prejudice had never hurt me before. Why did it hurt so much now?

I finally made it to a corridor that housed the entrance to the old cobwebbed library. I decided to sit myself down on the dusty floor and rest my elbows on my knees. I then rested my head in my hands, content to just sit there forever. Not too long a time later, Bilbo found me.

"Laerornien," he said, seeing the two singular tears I had allowed to fall as I raised my head. "What's wrong?" He had seen me upset earlier, and he knew I was upset for the same reason now. He wanted to know how to help me.

I sighed and wiped my cheeks, taking a deep breath. "I can't even begin to tell you everything that is wrong right now."

Bilbo looked at me in the genuinely sympathetic way only a hobbit could. He knew there were no words that would comfort me right now.

In the silence, we both became aware of the telltale signs of someone softly weeping.

We both looked to the door that led to the library, where the sound seemed to be coming from, and I stood up next to Bilbo to go and see who it was. We weren't exactly surprised to find out that it was Balin.

I approached the elder dwarf and put a hand to his shoulder. How strange it seemed that I had been weeping moments ago, and now it was him.

Balin gave me a grateful nod. He saw my face and my slightly red eyes and he knew that I'd been crying, too. He understood my distress as much as I understood his.

"Dragon sickness," he finally said to me and Bilbo. "I've seen it before. So have you, Laerornien."

I nodded sadly, thinking about the way the same sickness that now gripped Thorin had completely ensnared Thrór. I had seen it before, but while the last time it had merely been disturbing to see, this time it was horrific.

"That look," I murmured. "A terrible need."

Balin nodded in agreement, then said, "It is a fierce and jealous love, Bilbo. It sent his grandfather mad."

Bilbo had merely been listening until this point, when he said to the elder dwarf, "Balin, if Thorin had the Arkenstone." He gave me a meaningful look before continuing, "If it was found . . ."

"Would it help?" I finished the hobbit's sentence.

Balin gave the two of us an almost reprimanding look, a careful one that urged us to practice caution in what we said, before he told us, "That stone crowns all. It is the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he who bears it. Would it stay his madness?" He shook his head. "No. I fear it would make it worse." He gave a sad sigh as he said, "Perhaps it is best it remains lost."

Bilbo and I exchanged a glance, his was one that said, "I told you so," while mine reluctantly admitted, "I know you did."