What the Heart Wants: Book 3

12

*Thorin POV* (cause i love you all so here's a present 🎁)

The crown was heavy on my head but for the first time, I didn't care. I was finally the king my grandfather had hoped I would become. As I sat on my throne, I had an army at my command, ready to fight for me and defend my honour. I smile played on my lips as I twirled a gold coin around my fingers. All the worries of a lost dwarven lord seemed so silly now.

"Since when do we forsake our own people?" Dwalin's voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked down at him as he walked quickly towards the throne, "Thorin, they are dying out there."

I steered my gaze towards the coin in my hand, its golden face lighting up my eyes. 

"There are halls beneath halls within this mountain, places we can fortify," I told the dwarf in front of me. I turned my eyes towards him again and was met with only a look of disappointment. I paid no mind to it, however; what did Dwalin know about being king? Gold was meant to be protected and no cost was too big to pay.

"Shore up, make safe. Yes," I stood up, the idea gaining traction in my mind, "Yes, that is it. We must move the gold further underground, to safety!"

I began to walk away from Dwalin, my impatience for his sad face only growing.

"Did you not hear me?!" Dwalin called after me. I rolled my eyes but paused. "Dain is surrounded! They're being slaughtered, Thorin," His voice had a sort of pleading tone and for a moment I felt myself falter.

I turned to him and looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were tired and the usual loyal expression he carried with him seemed to be missing. His pleading tone was sincere and for that brief moment, something felt wrong. Something about what I was doing and saying felt wrong but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. My finger. I looked down at my hand where the golden disk resided and that moment of contemplation vanished. 

"Many die in war. Life is cheap," I told him, "But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend."

Our eyes remained locked and my vision grew blurry. I stumbled back towards him, aiming for my throne. I reached the arm of it and held on, my balance seemingly gone entirely. I took a breath and faced him again. 

Dwalin's eyes glossed over and he lowered his voice, "You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been."

I widened my eyes at him, shocked at his nerve, "Do not speak to me as if I was some lowly dwarf lord. As-as if I were still Thorin Oakenshield."

My voice had cracked and I cleared my throat, reaching for my sword, "I AM YOUR KING!" 

I pulled my sword from its holster—producing a satisfying schiiing sound—and pointed it towards him. It wavered, following my strange lack of balance, but I kept my position.

"You were always my king. You used to know that once," He whispered, a tear running down his cheek. He stepped towards me, moving until we were level, "You cannot see what you have become."

The pleading tone was back in his voice and my mind went blank again. Something in my body changed and felt wrong. I knew something was wrong but the more I tried to understand it, the further away an explanation felt. I clenched my free hand and there was the coin again, pulling me out of the confusing trance.

"Go!" I yelled at him, unexplainable tears prickling my own eyes, "Get out. Before I kill you."

Dwalin stared at me a while longer, seemingly surprised at my outburst. Regardless, I held my ground and lifted my chin at him. There should be no surprise. I am the King Under the Mountain and those who do not respect me and my wishes will suffer the consequences. Dwalin dipped his head before leaving the throne room. I walked behind the throne and towards the mountain's exit. No matter how saddened I felt I should be, I could only bring myself to feel anger. No one trusted me; no one believed me; everyone looked at me as if I had gone mad. Everyone looked at me like I was my grandfather.