TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CONTAINS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS!! IF THIS IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ!!
I am in no way romanticizing suicide/depression or making it 'cool.' It is a serious thing. It's just also a good subject for writing about.
And to all those who struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts/actions, please stop. You are fearfully and wonderfully made by God, and He loves you, as do many other people. If you need help, reach out. There is always someone there for you. I love you!!💙💙💙
The song is As Real As You And Me from the Home soundtrack
Hit play when you see the 🎶
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
You stood on the overlook, past the ramparts of Erebor, the reclaimed kingdom completely silent. The sun shone brightly in the mid-afternoon, and it warmed you in the chilly air.
Smaug was dead, but he was not the only one who was defeated.
Since day one, you had not been able to truly feel like a part of the company. Even as you fought, talked, ate, slept, and journeyed side by side with the dwarves, Bilbo, and Gandalf, you still felt a thousand miles away. Gandalf had convinced you to tag along and help to reclaim Erebor, since you had nowhere else to go.
You had once been a young abandoned dwarrowdam who trusted everyone. A little too easily. And that quickly taught you a tough life lesson: Not everyone can be trusted. But that quickly turned into: Never trust anyone.
And that was what you'd stuck with.
It wasn't that you thought Thorin Oakenshield and his Company would betray their loyalty, but that they would never accept you as one of them. You felt excluded from all conversations, you always rode or walked in the back of the group, and you always ate alone. You rarely talked to anyone. If you did, it was brief and emotionless.
But on the inside you were dying.
You felt like no one loved you, no one wanted you around, everyone hated you.
You had once again resorted to self-harming to calm your wildly rushing thoughts. Any moment you got to yourself, you quickly pulled out your little pocket dagger and sliced the soft skin on your inner arms before hurriedly binding the wounds and rolling your sleeves down. If you scratched yourself or got cut up a bit in a battle with orcs or goblins, you did not complain. You were secretly thankful for the pain.
Physical pain kept your mind off the emotional pain.
So as you stood there alone behind the stone ramparts, you looked down to the ground below. It was too far to tell how far it was to the bottom, but it was definitely far enough to kill somebody.
For the first time, you considered jumping. You had been thinking about different ways to commit suicide, but you felt like this one would be the least painful. Falling on your sword was too dramatic, and it might take a while for you to perish. Poisoning yourself was too much work, plus you would be in great discomfort for quite a while. Stabbing yourself was too painful as well. Jumping from the overlook seemed like the best choice. You would most likely black out before you reached the bottom.
You clenched your fists and your jaw, a bit of cold sweat breaking out on your forehead at the idea of killing yourself, but you did not want to turn back. You walked closer to the ramparts, your stomach sinking with each step. You neared the stone, and put both hands on the rough surface, beginning to haul yourself onto the ledge.
No going back.
Until you heard a voice behind you. "Oi! What're you doing, lass?!"
Instead of stopping you like you assumed the owner of the voice had wished, it only fueled your adrenaline, and you climbed onto the stone faster.
"(Y/n), stop!!" the deep voice yelled, closer this time, and the volume attracted the attention of more dwarves, all of whole ran in your general direction to see what was going on.
You didn't care. You were following through with this. You straightened your back and mentally prepared yourself to jump, when a large hand roughly grabbed your arm and yanked you back to the safety of the floor.
🎶
"What were you thinking, (y/n)?!" Thorin cries.
You quickly recovered your footing and glared at Thorin. "Why did you do that?!"
"Why? I was saving your life!!" he shouted back, inwardly confused as to why you were upset at all, but also taken aback by the fact that you were speaking in a tone other than whispering.
"Maybe I didn't want you to save my life!!" you bellowed. You didn't even care that every other dwarf, Bilbo included, was watching this fight, all perplexed.
Thorin was just irritated now. "I was the only one around, there was no one else to help you-"
"No Thorin! No, no no! Maybe I didn't want to be saved by you! Maybe I wanted to fall! Maybe I wanted to die!! Ever stopped to think of that?!"
Everyone else present wore a look of pure shock. You had..wanted to die??
You took this shock to your advantage, and ran back to the ramparts, hopping onto the ledge and standing there, facing everybody. They all couldn't really take this in, and so they didn't reach you in time.
"You all don't need me. You don't want me. I don't want to be a bother anymore. I am leaving. Goodbye," you said quietly, and allowed yourself to fall backwards, off of the ledge, and plummeting to the ground below.
Panicked shouts ensued, as well as everyone poking their heads past the ramparts to helplessly watch you fall to your demise.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and you stared at the beautiful blue sky, a giant sapphire against the white cottony clouds.
You smiled, one last second of happiness before your body smashed against the hard rock of the ground, much to the great displeasure and horror of the dwarves that remained on the ramparts far above your bloody, lifeless body.
Quite soon after this episode, the dwarves of Erebor somberly gathered your remains and placed them in a makeshift coffin, and buried you in the halls of their fathers and the royals, as a sign of respect. You had helped them reclaim Erebor, and you deserved every bit of lasting respect. All the dwarves and Bilbo took your death hard.
But the one who was broken the most was the one who had fallen for you in the first place. Thorin Oakenshield, king under the mountain.
If only he had told you.