The Parting Glass

1. Of Death

His breath was gone, his heart had stilled; he was dead. Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin's folk, Reclaimer of Erebor, was dead. He wished it wasn't so, there was so much he still wished to do, even more he wished to do over. Although he was dead, he felt a tear trickle into his beard, he could hear something in the distance, it sounded like yelling. The voice became louder as it came closer to his body, Thorin recognized it instantly, it was his Brother in Arms, and the tone in his voice said everything. Dwalin and the others were there, witnessing the last of Durin's line demise. Thorin's sobs joined the others as they cried for their friend, brother, and King.

Thorin waded through the darkness, unconsciously plowing towards a tiny spec in the distance. He had to move, to be rid of the darkness that surrounded him. Voices too, surrounded the warrior, some kind, others harsh, all filling his thoughts and giving him the sense of no escape. Escape, what a wonderful thought! He would do just about anything to be rid of the dark void he wandered through and the voices that taunted him.
"Look at him," a gruff male voice said, almost sneering. "The great Khuzdul King, running from his fears."
"Give him a rest," a kind female voice quipped, reprimanding the first. "It can't be easy to be murdered." The first snorted and moved on, while the second made a sympathetic mumble before moving away. More voices came and went, more taunting than the first, and less sympathetic than the second.
The spec in the distance took the form of an open doorway, the other side radiating with a feeling of home and comfort. Ease settled into Thorin's heart as he felt the light touch his face, wading through the dark became easier and the voices faded.
He reached for the white void, but something nagged at him. He would be reunited with his fallen family and friends, and await the arrival of those still living. He was sure Fili and Kili were waiting for him to enter and enjoy the afterlife with him, and he couldn't wait to see them, full of their childish laughter that they lacked on the quest.
Despite all of the things that awaited him in the Halls, he still hesitated.
"What is it child," a voice asked, gruff but kind and clear, more defined than the other voices. Thorin turned towards the voice and saw an older-looking man. He held ancient knowledge in his eyes that burned with fire. His beard was long and grey, as was the hair on his head, both braided spectacularly. His hands were rough with worked age, he had held a smithy's hammer most of his life, if not all of his life.
"Ye do not wish to enter me Halls," he asked, clasping his hands under his round belly. Thorin felt his face flush as he realized who he was facing. "Is there somethin' that troubles ye?"
"No, I wish to enter your Halls, My Lord," Thorin said quickly, lowering his gaze to Aule's feet. Instead of boots, the tops of his feet were covered in thick fur, rather like a hobbit's.
"Then why wait," he said, gesturing to the doorway. "Yer afterlife is waiting, and yer nephews are eager to meet again." Thorin winced as he was reminded that they were dead, he lowered his gaze further to his own feet. It had been a family joke that Thorin would outlive the two because of an adventure they would traipse after. A bitter taste was left on his tongue as he was again reminded he brought them on their death-bound adventure.
Thorin felt Aule's heavy hand grasp his shoulder, a firm but gentle touch that gave reassurance, a smile on the Valar's aged face as Thorin gazed up at him. "Yer not th' first ta stop at me door because of regret," he informed Thorin, rubbing his thumb against his shoulder. He felt relieved that he wouldn't need to explain what feeling dwelt in his heart, it wasn't something a dwarf normally did.
Auel chuckled, clapping Thorin's shoulder, slightly worrying the Dead King. "I made ye out o' stone fer a reason lad," he chortled as he led Thorin towards the beckoning doorway. "But in there, ye need not be made o' stone, ye don't need ta weather any storms in there," he explained as he walked through. Auel's grasp slipped from Thorin's shoulder to his hands, Thorin felt like a pebble again, being led along by his father. Thorin's heart panged again, realizing that his father may be in there. But even as Auel stepped through, Thorin hesitated again. Auel stopped, still gripping Thorin's hand, a fatherly look of worry on his face.
"What is it, lad?" He asked, stepping back into the dark. "Is there a reason ye shouldn't enter-"
"No!" Thorin shouted, snapping out of his thoughts. His voice echoed in the dark, stirring up the restless spirits that lingered there. "No, I feel qualified, but...." Thorin paused, trying to find his words. Auel watched him, no longer being able to read his thoughts as he had before. Or, it seemed that way to Thorin.
"Isn't there another way," he asked, stepping away from the door, and pulling his hand from Auel's. "A way where we all live- I don't even care if I die," Thorin added when Auel gave him a queer look. "Fili and Kili are practically children- And Dis! Ohh, Dis... Please, don't make her lose her lads," Thorin begged, tears falling off his beard and landing near his feet. Auel stated at Thorin with his queer look, the kind look had vanished as Thorin had made his plea. Thorin waited patiently for his answer, his heart plummeting as Auel stifled a snort. As his snort became guffawing, Thorin knew it was impossible, he felt his soul crush.
"Oh lad, can't ye see where ye are," Auel asked, wiping a joyous tear from his eye. Thorin frowned as the darkness disappeared, and the feeling of a prison left. Thorin and Auel were now standing on a green hill, with flowers of every color blooming around them. In the distance, he saw hobbits sitting, laughing, being hobbits, while dwarves made themselves merry nearby, but the most unusual thing was that they were mingling, hobbits taking drink of the dwarves' strong ale, and the dwarves learning how to garden with the smaller hobbits. Three, no four heads, Thorin recognized in the hobbit's group, five! Fili had dirt in his hair, making it harder to recognize, while he had thought Kii was a lady hobbit with that flower crown in his hair, and the one he was struggling to make in his hands.
Vili, their father, was sampling the hobbit cuisine, starting with the greens he was eating as if they were poisoned, now wolfing them down, finding they were tasty! Thrain was over under a tree with a little table, teaching a few of the hobbits about metal weaving. One hobbit yelped as a piece of coal split in two, showering Thrain's leather apron in sparks, but it didn't affect the old king. The hobbit's laughed at the one, Thrain chuckled a small bit before resuming the class, chiding the hobbits for laughing.
Fundin, who was playing checkers with an elderly hobbit couple, while smoking a pipe, waved with a happy smile. Thorin waved, hesitantly, back, then turned with a questioning look at Auel. The King of the Halls smiled, his fiery eyes on the brink of tears.
"Look through lad," he said, stepping away from the open door, sniffing back the emotions to keep them at bay.
"I don't understand," Thorin said, folding his arms, still quite confused. "I thought that was the door that led-"
"To th' Halls? Nay lad, th' second ye hit th' light, ye were in th' Halls. Come, look through th' door! See what lay beyond!"
Thorin stepped forward, leaning on one side of the doorway. He was still confused, but the gentle peace that settled over him pushed those to the back of his mind.

The white dissolved into an aerial view of Bree. The human settlement's streets were packed, even as it rained. Although it rained, Thorin could smell the food items from the market vendors, an apple crisp becoming quite distinguished through the many smells. The view scanned the streets as if it were from a bird's eye, watching the various people waiting in vending lines. The view finally settled on a shorter person, one with a familiar blue cloak and silver tassel.
"This is a one-time chance lad," Auel said in a hushed voice, Thorin had first thought he was speaking to himself. The dead king balked for a moment, realizing what the Valar meant. Joy flooded through him for that same moment, only to be squashed as another thought bloomed. He cast a worrying glance at his dead friends and family.
"What of them?"
Auel followed his gaze and grumbled, he hadn't wanted to dwell on the matter much, seeing as he was breaking nearly every rule in his book. He knew exactly who Thorin meant too, doing this probably looked like a death sentence to them.
"I can not explain the details lad," Auel explained quickly. "Ye must trust me that they'll survive this time, it's up to ye whether ye will er not. Their souls will return with ye, but unlike ye, they won't remember a thing." Auel glanced worriedly at the doorway, then back at Thorin. "I need yer answer now, yes or no?!"