Suilad, mellon, and thank you so much for showing interest in this story! Here, I have compiled a selection of the life of YOU, yes, YOU dear reader, in the world of Middle Earth. Who will your path lead you to fall for?
Preference chapters that are...
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Thorin:
The days seem to offer such little time as of late, and yet each minute is its own hour under Thorin's scrutiny. Some strange fog is steadily settling upon his mind with each gaze he gives to his newly-reclaimed kingdom. No, you correct yourself, it's only when he's around his treasure- the dragon-gold. Although even you feel the pull of such vast wealth, no desire has the power to pull a blanket over your eyes as you watch the King Under the Mountain warped by the spells of greed this gold hosts. Now, after attempting- to no avail -to find the Arkenstone for the hundredth time today, you slip away and wander down to the storage rooms.
In an absentminded fashion, you sort through the Company's food supplies (not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, truth be told), yet it is only when you start to hum as you count that you realize your hands are chilled and trembling. Turning back from your task then, more worried than before, you find yourself insisting more frequently that all will be well soon, ever-so-soon. It is not long before you happen upon a tearful Balin, and the pair of you console each other as best you can until Bilbo appears and asks, almost numbly, what is happening to Thorin.
"Dragon sickness," you reply, your voice choking up, and your saddened cousin- Bilbo -pats you on the back, his head drooping with understanding. Despite how Thorin himself has mentioned little of his grandfather's madness, Gandalf explained Thror's tragic mental descent to you two hobbits early on in your journey. The knowledge that this is happening to your dear Thorin now has clearly hit Balin the hardest, though, likely because he was there to see the first instance of this in Thror. It is as if he must watch history repeat itself, and a grim history, at that. You offer him a hug, which he despondently accepts, then leave Bilbo to keep him Company while you go to greet the newcomers late from Laketown (Gloin just gave you the heads-up), hoping to caution them before they reunite with Thorin.
Fili and Kili, to your dismay, practically rush inside despite your efforts, and seeing how their uncle greets them with glazed eyes and glorified words makes you a bit queasy. You try to walk away unseen, but Thorin waves to you and calls you down to the hills of wealth upon which he stands. It nearly kills you at how your heart still flutters about when he smiles at you, for you know that right now, his kindly (and sometimes flirtatious) manner toward you might be only a conjuration of his sickness.
"My lady," he greets you, and by now, you know better than to protest the honorary station, though your stomach still clenches up at all the gold you see quite-literally bursting from his pockets. "Why have you no crown?"
You are surprised by the question, as well as abashed. "I needn't one, my liege," you reply carefully, but he frowns, and you guess this was not an adequate answer.
"You do," he insists, "and here is one."
From a pile at his feet, he draws up a crown of thick silver, inlaid with many jewels and lines of gold. You think it a dismal thing- beautiful, yes, but too flashy, and you do not want this gift, especially from him in his current state -but take it nonetheless when he hands it almost roughly to you.
