All Who Wander Are Not Lost

Chapter 11

Thank you all for the reviews, they are really encouraging! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I hope to get another one out by the weekend, but who knows the muse is in control!

Robin

*****

"If something feels off, it is." -Unknown

T. A. 2767 Fall

Standing before the massive gate of Erebor, Thennil could not help being in awe of the mighty structure that the dwarves had carven from the stone. It was breathtaking, though not in the elegant and ethril beauty like her home in Imladris or her grandmother's realm of Lothlorien, it was a brutal, blunt, square beauty. Nothing about it was elegant, it was all hard corners and smooth planes. It reminded her of the fortresses of men that she had dwelt among in her time with the Rhorrim and the Dunedain. Beautiful, yet simple. The great dwarven statues that stood guarding the gates looked to be made of a green stone unlike anything that she had ever seen. And she had seen many things.

Looking upon the gates and there might brought her mind back to the reason that she had traveled all this way. It had been a dream, one that had reacured night after night for nearly a year. It plagued her mind, these gates, but they were not as they were now. No it lay within the mountain, what her dream showed her. The dream had started in the spring, of the year before, and she had thought nothing of it because it was just that, a dream. When it had become a nightly occurrence, she had begun to take it more seriously, but was loathed to do anything because of the prejudices that had been instilled within her by her people.

In her dream she had seen the gold growing beneath the shadow of the mountain, deep within it's halls. It had radiated evil, and seemed to strike out in a crazed emotion when things around it moved. She had slipped through the gates, traveled down many flights of stairs and across many walkways, practically taking a tour of the kingdom in her decent into the darkness that rose up to greet her. Then there was a flash of bright light and she stood within the heart of the mountain, gazing over the hoard of gold that was piled up in heaps across the floor. Being an elf, she had not felt a pull to the shiny metal, her people leaned more towards jems that resembled their beloved stars, bright white. She could feel a heaviness, like a thunder cloud, over the vast room. Slowly, she had witnessed a darkness creep out of the doorways, washing over the gold and leaving it dirtied, so that it no longer sparkled when torchlight hit it. Laughter had begun to echo around her, causing her to twist and turn, seeking out the voice that bounced around her. The laughter had been crazy, reminding her of the few men that she had witness loose their minds after a brutal battle, not being able to cope with the reality around them. She shivered, feeling the insanity slip into her own mind as she continued to walk among the gold. Out of no where a short stock form dressed in rich silken garments appear, counting the gold pieces around him. Though she had never seen the king of Erebor, she had heard accounts of his features, so she knew that it was him that she looked upon. His eyes seemed glazed over, and even when she tried to approach him, he acted as if she did not exist. Reaching out, she touched his shoulder.

It had been like lightning traveling up her arm, and the first time she had dreamt it she had awoken, clutching her chest as the pain subsided. A great evil had blinded her, causing her to stumble. Gasping, she blinked, shocked that so much evil could be held in so small a person. Thror's eyes flared with a fire, one that seemed to engulf his very soul, dark and dangerous. Anger rushed across his hard features and he had swung at her, his heavy fist connecting with her pale cheek. Struggling to breath after the impact, she raised her hand to ward off the next blow, but found herself standing in front of the gates, upon a ridge overlooking the river that flowed from the gates.