What the Heart Wants: Book 3

12

I let my mind wander as my feet took me through the mountain. I blinked hard, trying to shift my thoughts away from the views of others. I stopped, I had found myself in the Gallary of the Kings, our first attempt at killing the dragon. The floor was solid gold now and my feet had carried me to the middle of it. 

"You sit here... with a crown upon your head... you are lesser now than you have ever been..." Dwalin's voice rang in my head.

I whipped my head around to look for him, but not before more voices began to take over my mind.

"But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost..." My own voice called out, only, it didn't sound like me. This voice sounded cruel and evil. This voice sounded wrong.

"A sickness lies upon that treasure..." It was Balin this time.

"The blind ambition of a mountain king..." Bard's voice. 

Their messages were so similar.

"AM I NOT THE KING..." It was my voice again, at least it sounded like my voice, but it was evil as well.

"This gold... is ours... and ours alone..." My conversation with Bilbo played and suddenly, the obsession with the gold seemed abnormal.

"You're hurting people Thorin..." Y/n's voice told me and for the first time in days, I remembered what it felt like to love and be loved.

"Treasure..." Balin's voice echoed.

"I will not part with a single coin..." My own voice, only sick and snake-like.

"He could not see beyond his own desire..." Bard's voice, finishing his original sentence.

"As if I was some lowly dwarf lord... Oakenshield..." I was spinning in circles now, trying to escape the noise.

"Without them, you wouldn't have gotten this far..." Y/n's voice was there again and I felt a pain in my heart for how I had hurt her.

"A sickness that drove your grandfather mad..." Balin reminded me.

"Oakenshield..." I couldn't escape.

"This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror..." Dwalin's voice returned and he sounded proud again, not betrayed.

"I am not my grandfather...my grandfather," I told myself.

"You are the heir to the throne of Durin..." Gandalf's voice echoed through my head.

"They are dying out there..." Dwalin's voice told me.

"You are not the dwarf I fell in love with..." No.

"Take back...take Erebor..." Gandalf again.

"Dain is surrounded... surrounded...is surrounded...Dain is surrounded..." I have to help them.

"Take back your homeland..." I tried.

"You are changed, Thorin..." Bilbo's voice appeared for the first time, drowning out all the others.

"I am not my grandfather..." I heard my own voice speak up.

"Is this treasure truly worth more than your honour..." Bilbo again, echoing louder than any of the others.

"I am not my grandfather."

The voices stopped and I looked down at my feet. A dragon's tail slithered underneath the golden floor and I took a few steps back in surprise. 

"This treasure will be your death..." Gandalf's was the last voice to play in my mind.

Silence filled the hall. Below me, the floor began to sink and I fell with it. It was as if someone had pinched the golden hall and pulled out down under me. I yelled out in terror as I tried to escape. I climbed the golden slope to no avail and tried again to call for help. No one was coming, I had pushed them all away and would be left to suffocate under the golden floor alone. As quick as it started the floor had crashed over me like a wave and I was pulled under for good. 

I gasped and opened my eyes. I was alive. It was a hallucination. I was standing in the middle of the floor and finally, my head was clear. I reached to grab the crown on my head and threw it on the floor in front of me. It clattered a few times before rolling to a stop. I was free. I looked down at what I was wearing and cringed, how could I have let my mind take over like this? I shrugged off the regal cape and dressings tell I was left in a simple linen shirt and cotton pants. I rushed out of the all to the armoury and changed. It felt as though a weight was lifted off my body as I darned a simple leather fighting outfit. I grabbed my sword and made my way towards the gate.

The Company sat impatiently, all of them wearing a look of sorrow for the massacre happening right outside our doors. I could finally empathize with them and felt my own sadness for the deaths that I knew were on my hands. Upon arrival, the dwarves stood up, some surprised to see me, some angry at my appearance.

"I will not hide behind a wall of stone, while others fight our battles for us!" Kili shouted at me, moving closer with furrowed brows. 

He slowed his pace and I walked towards him. Suddenly, his face shifted from anger to pleading, "It is not in my blood, Thorin."

"No, it is not," I lay a hand on his shoulder and lowered my voice so it was only for him to hear, "We are sons of Durin. And Durin's folk do not flee from a fight."

Kili gave me a soft smile, tears rimming his eyes. I touched my forehead to his and let myself smile for the first time in a very long time.

"I have no right to ask this of any of you," I turned my attention toward the Company, keeping my hand on Kili's shoulder for a brief moment before walking towards the ground, "But will you follow me one last time?"

I made eye contact with each dwarf, ensuring they knew my apology was genuine. They returned my gaze with smiles and tear-filled eyes, each raising their weapons and shouting cheers of approval.

"Then it's decided, Bombour, ready the horn," I instructed the red-haired dwarf who nodded with a big smile, rushing up the stairs, "The rest of you, help me with the bell."

The dwarves cheered again and we hoisted up a large golden bell to help us break the wall. We pushed it back, ready to release it once Bombour sounded the horn. I rolled my shoulders. While I was excited to be mentally back, I knew I had to find Y/n and apologize. I wasn't ready to lose her, not when I knew I had more time. 

We heard the orcs sound their horn and my heart clenched, how many could have been saved if not for my pride? Bombour sounded our horn not a moment after, and the dwarves and I released the bell. It echoed loudly, making a deep gong sound as it smashed through the wall. Bits of brick went flying and I led the way out of the mountain. The dwarves had fallen behind me in a V shape and Dain's army parted for us. 

I locked eyes with my cousin and he gave me a smirk before turning and yelling at his army, "TO THE KING! TO THE KING!"

I focused my gaze and raised my sword, this was the final battle, "Du Bekâr!"

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Translation: 

Du Bekâr: To arms