THORIN POV
"You sit here...with a crown upon your head...you are lesser now than you have ever been..."
"...but a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost..."
"...a sickness lies upon that treasure..."
"...the blind ambition of a mountain-king..."
"...AM I NOT THE KING...this gold...is ours...and ours alone..."
"...treasure..."
"...I will not part with a single coin..."
"...he could not see beyond his own desire..."
"...as if I was some lowly dwarf lord...Oakenshield..."
"...a sickness that drove your grandfather mad..."
"...Oakenshield..."
"...this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror..."
"...I am not my grandfather...my grandfather."
"...you are the heir to the throne of Durin..."
"...they are dying out there."
"...take back...take Erebor..."
"...Dain is surrounded... surrounded...is surrounded...Dain is surrounded..."
"...take back your homeland..."
"...you are changed, Thorin..."
"If you despise him so then be rid of him..."
"...I am not my grandfather..."
"...is this treasure truly worth more than your honor..."
"...I am not my grandfather..."
Looking to the golden floor below, I saw the dragon, Smaug, slithering beneath my feet. I frantically stepped back in an attempt to escape him.
"...this treasure will be your death..."
The golden court around me began to toss like waves, sending me to my knees. A sinkhole opened close by, swallowing everything in it's reach, myself included.
I could hear them, all of them.
"Come back!" I turned, Vivianetta stood on the other side of the court. "Thorin!" Tears streaked her dirty cheeks. "My love, come back!" I stared. "Please." Something inside me understood. Something inside me took hold, caught it's grip. It wasn't the King Under the Mountain. No, it was Oakenshield.
I took hold of the crown atop my head, ripping it off and throwing it across the room. I sunk to my knees. Gentle hands framed my face, her warm brown eyes looked at me with such concern it nearly stopped my heart.
"Viv," My voice was hoarse, almost nonexistent.
"Is it you?" She met my eyes. "Is it my love? My Oakenshield? My Thorin?"
"Vivianetta." I breathed. She smiled, that smile that made my stomach turn.
"Thorin." She threw her arms around my neck, bringing me back home. "Thorin, they are dying. Dain's folk. The elves. The men. They are dying. We have to help them." I looked about myself. I was not dressed for war. I was dressed to look a fool on a throne.
"We have to help them." I repeated. "Then help them we shall."
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Angels on the Moon (A Hobbit Fanfiction)
FanfictionBraig swished his mane, tossing his head in the air; he loved to go on runs. He had the most beautiful coat, white and black, he was a paint. Many thought it strange, seeing him, no other horse in Middle Earth had his colors. Alas, he was not from...
