Torn In Two | Thorin Oakenshield |

14. Memories

A/N: Short chapter but stuff is revealed! Hope it's to your liking.

—

I can hardly remember anything except for the massive amount of heat surrounding us. It was unbearable. Just like those many years ago.

Fire is like a parasite. One that's hard to distinguish when there's massive amounts of it. I do recall losing my vision first. All the smoke and ash made it hard to keep my eyes open for long periods of time. And when I did manage to see, I had to fight against that horrible sting.

The next attack was in my mouth, making my tongue feel like a rock and throat similar to a desert. It was horrible.

But let's not forget about the putrid smoke fire tended to emit. Clawing through your system until it inhabits your lungs, no longer able to breathe. It's not long until the body system desires to shut down, leaving you dizzy and desperate to hold on.

Though, I'm pretty sure I passed out ages ago. Not quite sure how but I'm assuming it's due to Smaug surrounding me with one of my greatest fears. Plus being forced onto a small boat with many passengers, with intentions to head out towards open water.

I'm glad I'm not conscious if that's the case. I'd rather be dead than have to face both horrors at once.

It's just too bad I'm not stuck in a dark abyss like usual. Life isn't ever that good to me. But I suppose it should be expected. This new trauma brought back more fluent memories of my old trauma. And I doubt I'll wake up from this.

—

Slowly opening my eyes, I stare up at a wooden ceiling, painfully aware of the knocking inside my head and the uncomfortable structure that's against my aching back.

Where am I? Is the first question that pops in my mind and I carefully sit up while groaning a bit. My fingers lightly scrape against the chipped flooring and I already feel bile start to arise.

Not a good idea Arina, I warn myself and bring a hand up to the back of my head, hissing at the sensations. It feels as though I've been run over by horses and then beat with a club for good measure.

"Mommy!"

I jump as a sudden high pitched squeal runs by, increasing the ring within my ears but I'm more surprised at the sight before me.

Great. I groan once everything clicks and I dust off my trousers before slowly getting off the floor. Looks like I'm stuck within my dream.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I cross my arms and stare at the younger version of myself. New perspective I see.

Father and mother are both in the living room, wearing faces of worry and I hum while trying to recall which part I'm stuck in. Lightly tapping my foot in thought, I lean my body back a bit to eye the long staircase and assume this is after the orc broke in.

Orcs. The rhythm within my head and foot halt at the recollection, now curious to see which clan said creatures belong to.

"We must go." Father says firmly and his much taller figure walks by, nearly frightening me.

So that's my father, I think to myself as I properly take in his appearance for the first time. Taller than most Elves actually, lean as expected with strong facial features to match. He looks similar to Thranduil, I shudder but instead my father has dark locks instead of gold.

"Arina." I immediately turn around at the call of my name, briefly forgetting there's another version of myself here. "Come sweetie."

Mother. I want to call out, mindlessly dropping my arms to my sides in shock of how beautiful she truly is. Taller than a normal Hobbit, with chestnut brown hair, emerald eyes and a figure that's made for battle. That much is clear due to her current outfit, which consists of an everyday set of light armor.