*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.
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