"To the dungeons with you!!" Thorin bellowed as he dragged you by the arm down the hall. He was convinced in his gold-sickened state that you had stolen something from him. Whether he believed it was gold or the Arkenstone itself, you did not know, nor care. All you wanted was to be free.
"Leave me alone, Thorin! I didn't touch anything of yours! I'm clean!"
He didn't seem to hear, or just maybe didn't listen, and quickly tossed you into a very dark cell, where the only light that came in was through a tiny rectangular hole cut in the door for air. That is, if light would ever get down there.
"You will stay here until I can find out what you stole from me and where it is hidden, wench. Then maybe I'll consider releasing you." With this, he abruptly left.
You screamed and shouted and cursed and clawed and shoved, but there was no escaping this. Not this time.
>>>three months later, after the battle of the five armies (everyone lives au)<<<
"Where did you put her, Thorin?" Dwalin asked for the millionth time, even though he knew the King would have the same answer to present yet again.
"I do not know, Dwalin. I do not remember." The dwarf king's voice broke with emotion. He had loved (y/n), loved her with all his heart, but the gold-sickness had been rough on him, and it completely clouded his judgement, causing him to unintentionally send his One to a horrible fate.
"Didn't you say you'd put her in the dungeons?" Dwalin recalled.
"We checked the dungeons, Dwalin, nothing was there," Thorin replied exasperatedly.
"Not the lower levels."
Thorin's head snapped up. "What?"
"The lower levels of the dungeons," Dwalin repeated, his deep brown eyes bright with hope. "We never looked there."
"Let us go and see!" Thorin cried and practically flew from his throne.
>>>at the dungeon's lower levels<<<
"This is the last cell," Dwalin stated tiredly, using the skeleton key to open the last, darkest cell's door.
It slowly creaked open, and the two burly warriors peeked in to see if (y/n) was still there.
She was. But not in the condition they'd figured she'd be in.
What they saw were two glowing yellow eyes in the corner that slowly turned to face them, the luminescence coming from the torches that Dwalin and Thorin carried.
The creature shot out through the door, eliciting screams from the men that were not quite manly, causing the creature to laugh. Thorin froze at the sound. It was (y/n)'s laughter.
"(Y/n)?"
She turned around, showing her dirty face. Her clothes were ripped and shredded, and dirty as well, of course. Her arms and legs, now almost bare from the clothing that was barely hanging onto them, were covered in puffy white and pink scars. Her eyes held the light of almost a madman.
"Thorin," she snarled, her tone taking him and Dwalin aback. "You! You did this to me!!"
Thorin put his hands in the air defensively, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, Dwalin came to the rescue.
"He was afflicted with the dragon-sickness, lassie. He could not help his actions."
"Yeah! Apparently!" she shouted, still furious.
Thorin's brow furrowed in confusion. "How are you still alive, (y/n)?"
She laughed unmirthfully. "I shouldn't be. By all rights, I should be dead. Long gone. But no. The Aulë kept me alive. I could not die."
"They must have saved you for me," Thorin said joyfully, thanking Mahal for making the decision of saving his One.
"No, Thorin!!" (Y/n) shrieked. "They didn't save me! It's not like it was pleasant! I couldn't die, that doesn't mean I enjoyed it!"
"What do you mean?" Dwalin asked carefully.
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "I mean, I suffered the whole time. For months I could not eat nor drink. Every day I was starving to death, and hadn't died. I got tired of it, so I tried killing myself."
This frightened Thorin and Dwalin alike. Neither of them knew what to say.
"Look!" She showed her wrists, legs, arms, lifted her tunic to show her stomach. "I had no poison, and there was no rope, nor a place to hang the noose from, so I could not hang myself. But I had a dagger, so I went to work." Her eyes took on a look of hatred. "I tried so many times to kill myself, Thorin. I slashed my wrists, I cut my arms and legs, I stabbed myself in the stomach. Look, Thorin!" She pulled back her torn tunic collar, revealing a jagged scar line across her neck. "I slit my own throat, Thorin!!"
Thorin stumbled backwards, using the stone wall behind him as assistance.
"I was in pain. I bled. But never did I die. Never did my body succumb to the harm I had inflicted upon it. I took it as a sign. A sign that my task wasn't over yet." (Y/n) smiled, but there was no joy or love to be seen in it. "The Aulë kept me alive for one reason, Thorin, and I do not believe it was revenge. The Aulë doesn't do revenge. I believe it is for love. Not my love for you, you see, as that is all gone."
(Y/n) began to slowly walk towards Thorin, which really scared him at this point. "It is for the love you have for me," she continued. "When you locked me up and left me to die, you had no love. And now you expect me to love you as if nothing ever happened?!"
Thorin slightly shook his head, and Dwalin still stood there dumbfounded.
"Kill me, Thorin," she commanded. The king immediately shook his head.
"I cannot. I still love you!"
"But I do not love you!" she cried. "Kill me! Avenge me! Let me die in peace!!" There was a look of pleading in her eyes, and she almost looked back to her old self.
Thorin reluctantly unsheathed his sword, and aimed it for her heart.
"No!" Dwalin shouted, but it was too late. Thorin had already plunged his sword into her chest, and she had already collapsed. Thorin collapsed soon after she did, but in tears of sorrow for her death.
Dwalin sympathetically pat his friend on the shoulder, but he knew nothing would help ease the pain, the heartbreak.
Nothin would fix Thorin.