(To the song, "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran)
Thorin Oakenshield stood upon the platform in front of the people of Lake Town. This rabble that was gathered… Could these honestly be the descendants of the great trading town of old, that he remembered?
Well, the town had been like that before.
After Smaug had ripped through the village, it appears that vegabonds had taken the once noble people's place.
Especially the leader. A strange man, in ill health.
Making his case, he turned upon the step towards the people. Though he, and his companions, nay the whole town reeked of fish, after awhile you couldn't smell it. The townsfolk didn't seem to mind, at any rate. He swallowed in order to get the cloying smell out of his nostrils before he began speaking.
Lifting his eyes to the crowd as he, and his company were welcomed into the town most likely solely because of the promise or, hint of, gold at their attempted safe return from the mountain. He caught a glimpse of it, as the sun began to set. So lonely, peaked, the halls of his forefathers. His birthright. In his mind's eye, he saw over the top of the mountain when they were driven from their home. Dragon fire as hot as the fires that powered their great forges had swept through, smoking them out as if smoking an ant hill of it's inhabitance.
His jaw clenched. The Arkenstone must be reclaimed with the company's help.
Sleep in Bard's house, fitful, covered in stink…
Though it wasn't bad as it used to be. Coming out of the toilet earlier hadn't helped.
Hearing Kili's muffled cries of pain in the dark, he turned over to not face him. The young dwarf wouldn't be making the journey. Time was of the essence tomorrow, they needed speed.
Rotating the key in his hand, he placed it back in his coat pocket, before relaxing into a somewhat troubled slumber.
He was flying, gazing up at the mountain during the night. Suddently, the Earth shook, and a great sound came from it. A hideous rawr that went straight through his very being.
Then, stillness, until the mountain burst open, a great dragon coming forth across the lake, descending upon the town.
He awoke with a start, looking around. The sun was just peaking upon the side of the mountain, casting a palid light upon the small town. It was not yet time, but he arose anyway, and went out the door onto the balcony the sun rise, he stretched. It would be a long day.
He remembered that night at Bilbo's, feasting, and drinking, well, what the others had told him, anyway, as he had arrived late. Small cup of wine, and a modest meal was all he had in the burglar's home, but it had been enough. He grasped the key tighter in this hand, beginning to hear the town start to stir. If they would survive getting back the Arkenstone, perhaps he could visit the Shire again. In peace.
Thorin roused the rest of the company, keeping an eye upon the time. This was Durin's Day, they only had a day to get up there to the door, or spend a year in the town. Or take their chances of going through the front door? No, that had been destroyed many years ago. He didn't want to risk that.
The time was fast approaching, and something troubled him. Kili had been hurt by the arrow. It had seemed a simple wound, but he had been growing pale and weak. A morgul arrow? He would just slow them down. He sighed as he made his way to the last dock. Many had been gathered to see them off. They would leave stoutly, as dwarves, though he would have to talk to the youngest dwarf. He rubbed his head lightly. It was for the best.
The boat ride across the lake went without much happening. He didn't know where the staircase would be once they got there. He only had the map, and how it opened the door. And the key. The key that his father had trusted to the wizard. Long ago. How old was Gandalf, anyway?
These musings were halted early by reaching the shore. He jumped out of the boat, and helped the rest of the dwarves onto the land, while looking around . He and the dwarves, and Bilbo split up, They rushed to and from around the small rolling hills. Where was it.
"There…" The silence was broken by Bilbo's voice. Thorin followed where he was pointing, then looked back at the hobbit, amazed. How could such a simple folk be so observant?
"You have keen eyes, Master Baggins!" He says, as he claps him on the back lightly. Perhaps it had proved beneficial to bring the Halfling after all.
It was grueling getting to the top of the strange zig zagged stairs that were cut upon the mountain. The mountain itself though, was quiet. Fortunately. Time seemed to be moving too fast as they scrambled up the steps near a great hewn warrior that had been carved in antiquity.
They finally threw themselves upon the landing with a blank wall, breathing heavily in exertion. Thorin looked around. They had reached the place just in time. The sun was setting. The last light.
He ran to the blank side of the mountain. "This must be it…" He said in a hushed voice, looking at the stone. His short shadow splayed itself across the surface of the hidden door. He turns to the party, "Let all that had doubted us rue this day!' He holds up the key with a smile. He knew this would work. He was home, and would have the Arkenstone in his grasp by morning.
"The last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole." He said, as several of the dwarves attempted to find said keyhole in the fading light. He watched the sun set among the horizon. No keyhole.
"It's not here! Break it down!" He said with a panic, as they immediately took up arms against the door, and proceeded to impotently break them upon the stone.
"It's no good. The door is sealed. It can't be opened with force…" The voice came, but Thorin was delirious. All this way, just to wait another year to try again? Shaking his head, he spoke, "Let's go back." He dropped the key onto the platform, and turned away. He heard Bilbo making some noise, but he just passed him, starting back down the steps. He couldn't hear the hobbit's words. He was deaf towards everyone, the history of the mountain burning in his memory.
The wind beat upon the mountain, as he was lost in this reverie. A mist came to his eyes. How the hunger for his home gnawed at him, and now that he was this close…denied. He curled a fist upon the rock, placing his head upon his encircled fingers, squeezing his eyes tight.
The key… the key… "The key! It was here a minute ago…" He heard Bilbo's voice in the dark, then the sound of scuffling. The hobbit was trying to do something stupid. He could just feel it. He pressed himself from the rock swiftly, going to the edge of the cliff just in time to catch the leather loop of the key under his boot.
"that was close…" he thought to himself, as he leaned down, ever so carefully, and picked up the key. He turned his eyes towards Bilbo. The last light was meant to be the moonlight. It was so simple, yet could've been a misinterpretation of the words on the scroll. He stepped forward and slowly slid the key in to the hole that was illuminated by the pale moon. It went in, and turned with a soft rumbling sound, as the tumblers clicked into place. He placed both hands upon the door, and pushed, feeling it give, and open.