Born from Stone (A Thorin Oakenshield story)

*The loneliest day of my life

This part of my life was never recorded in the books of history in any form. This part remained under locks for everyone but a handful of people, which didn't include the majority of my family and remains as such to this day, for what is left of my family. That day I don't know how I survived or why she cursed me to live on in order to remember what I had done to her....with my decisions. That day Thorin the second, grandson of Thror and heir of Durin, not having earned the name Oakenshield yet, remained back there at that snowy, slippery turn half a day ride south of Ravenhill for as long as I can remember. I am old now, sour and tired. I've been through hell all these years and still that day remains the worst day....the most lonely day of my life....that horrid day my hair grew grey streaks in the blink of an eye. So much soul was torn away from me ...that I sometimes think Thorin the second is still there....smiling back at me with malevolence, half hidden behind his youthful raven hair and strong body, wickedly happy that I have lived to regret everything that I said and did...

"Thorin wait!" Dwalin cried behind him, but he was unable to stop. If he stopped now he feared that he would die on the spot. He had to know. He had to see it for himself.

"No...no...no..." each negation fell out of his mouth heavily along with each heaving breath. His war ram galloped quickly above the slippery snowy paths of the narrow road. He heard the unmistakable slip of Dwalin's ram behind him. He felt the vibration of the earth as animal and rider fell on the road. Dwalin's curse in Khuzdul sounded painful and bitten through gritted teeth, yet he didn't even turn to check on his friend. His eyes were already overflowing with tears. He could see the outlines of the road and the trees. He could discern the faded colours as the sun had began setting behind the Lonely Mountain, but not much of anything else.

From the moment the news found him on the training grounds all his senses joined in a single point of urgency. The need to see it first. The need to make sure that what he heard had been correct. Now as he turned the corner and saw the outlines of a carriage his blood froze. The two guards alerted by his fast galloping pulled quickly aside, just in time before he alighted next to them. His fierce gaze turned to them as his wild hair whiplashed his cheeks. "Where is it!?" He thundered and his monumental voice echoed in the frozen ravines below.

"Down there, but you cannot go like this, your Majesty. We need to tie a rope around you." One of the guards tried to reason.

No need to reason with someone who had no reason left at that moment. Thorin threw himself down the side of the cliff, half rolling, half running down its steep face. Using branches to stop his momentum and even tree barks to keep himself from falling to his own death. When he landed next to the carriage he was already cut in several places on his forearms and his cheek was oozing blood from a rather deep gash.

"No...no...no" he muttered as his eyes looked at the carriage with ever-growing panic. He growled as he began searching for her like a maniac. He could only hear his heart thumping hard and nothing else. Their processions were all scattered across the bottom of the cliff. Open packages spilling out her most intimate undergarments. The tears blurred his eyes and he wiped them away angrily. "No...no...please...no." His chant continued as he silently prayed this was a dream when in reality it was a blood curdling nightmare. The front wheel was broken. One piece was still attached to the axis, the other nowhere to be seen. Then he saw a leg...then an arm. He felt his breath catching as his hand grabbed hold of the carriage to keep himself upright. The two ponies were still tied on the reigns. One was dead with a broken neck. The other was struggling to stand on broken legs. Its pained neighing send shivers down his back. His eyes turned to Cael and he felt his stomach turning. A thick wooden plank from the carriage had passed through his torso. Its pointy end was glistening red from Cael's blood as it had saturated the wood all along its length.