Words Like Wind ᚠ Thorin Oakenshield

nínєtєєn: thє clσudѕ вurѕt

Oh my eyes are seeing red, double vision from the blood we've shed, the only way I'm leaving is dead, that's the state of my head.

ARETHUSA watched as Bilbo stood from his bedroll in the middle of the night, the company was asleep with the exception of Bofur, who had the first watch and Thorin, he had not left his gold. She wished the hobbit all the luck in the world and prayed to the Valar that he would not return come morning, that he would be as far away from the mountain as possible. She turned on her side, facing a singed stone wall, her mind slipping into a light sleep when a warm cloak covered her, she recognized the scent instantly, but when she looked over her shoulder Thorin was gone like he had never even been within the room.

The dawn had come as she had told the company the previous night and indeed, it had been a long night, dark and full of terrors that tormented the fairy's mind of what was to come this day. Thranduil's army had moved into position overnight and when the company woke from a poor night's rest in heavy armor to descend the stairs upon Thorin's command, Dwalin gave a grunt of disagreement though he would not speak aloud. Arethusa felt severely underdressed for the occasion, she wore no mail, no armor, no crown or royal seal; she wore only the shambles of clothing that had been found within the mountain and the elvish blade strapped to her hip.

Bard and Thranduil moved through the lines of elven foot soldiers and archers. With furrowed brows, she watched Thorin draw back a bow, steadily adjusting his aim as they grew closer. Had she thought it would sway him from his decision she would have shaken him by the shoulders, slapped his cheek, or kissed him breathless but now he would not reconsider the course of action. The white horse and elk took slow strides up the stairs, though before Thranduil's elk, Brethildor, could lay his hoof upon the snow-covered stone Thorin had released the nocked bow and the thud of it hitting a hard surface seemed loud enough for all to hear. "I will put the next one between your eyes."

The company broke out into cries of joy, shouting chants in Khuzdul, and raising their weapons high. Arethusa looked down and saw the Elvenking's subtle nod, the well-disciplined army knew what the signal meant and hundreds of archers pulled an arrow from their quiver, nocked it, and aimed, awaiting the command to release them. The only dwarf that did not cower behind the ramparts was Thorin, he still had his own bow drawn, a cold glint of determination in his eyes.

With a single motion with his hand, the archers replaced their bows and stood at attention once more. "We've come to tell you: payment of your debt has been offered...and accepted." Thranduil looked up at the dwarves lining the rampart, a brow raised, Arethusa chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she watched Thorin's face for a reaction.

"What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!" The fairy then saw the small figure join them, Bilbo. The Hobbit gave a weak smile in Arethusa's direction to which he saw her face fall and eyes darken.

The two men astride their mounts looked at each other with a silent agreement. "We have this." It was Bard who had spoken, from a pocket within his coat and mail he pulled out the white jewel, the Arkenstone. Only then did Thorin lower his bow. "They have the Arkenstone?" Kili looked perplexed, his face betrayed the calm he had tried to maintain. "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king!" Arethusa's eyes shot over to the young dwarf who sounded anything but himself at the moment.