NOT QUITE THE END
"Farewell, good thief," I said, my breath rattling in my pierced chest. "I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed. Since I leave now all gold and silver, and go where it is of little worth, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate."
Indeed, I had the power of a wizard, or do I dare say an elf, I would erase what had transpired. Perhaps I would even have erased the reclaiming of Erebor. What monster I had become under the spell of Dragon Sickness!
I felt the blood soak my garments, and my roving eyes struggled to keep Bilbo in focus. But blurry or not, I knew it was my friend who I gazed upon. I smiled. A thing I had not done in a long time. I was glad to do it once more before I died.
"Farewell, King under the Mountain!" Bilbo said, his voice quavering. He knelt by me, both of us under the shelter of the tent. Gandalf watched the scene plaintively from a corner. Shadows seemed to engulf him, and only his beard and pointed hat could I clearly define. I turned back to my little friend as he continued,
"This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils –it is more than any Baggins deserves."
"No!" I said, a burst of strength penetrating that word. "There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!"
I looked into Bilbo's face once more, only to watch tears roll down his rosy cheeks. I could keep the watch no longer. My eyelids were heavy, and like stones they closed up the empty tombs that had been my source of sight for some hundreds of years.
I do not know what happened directly after that, but that Bilbo must have departed.
"Thrain…my father?" I murmured as a shadowy figure approached me. It was shadowy in the sense that it possessed a volatile form, but from within it was radiant and aglow. Another like figure approached, and I addressed him as Thror. I swung my gaze and my heart was both joyous with reunion and pained with the knowledge their presence here was my fault: for I saw Fili and Kili. My beloved nephews. I blinked in disbelief, and outstretched my hands toward them…
When next I opened my eyes, it was into Gandalf's face that I looked, and it was his shoulders that I grasped. A last murmur of incantation escaped his lips as I awoke, and he retreated a step from where I lay.
Gandalf looked aged, especially for a wizard, in that moment. I wondered if it was the toll of the day's battle. Then I realized that he had given a portion of his life in that spell to save mine.
"Gandalf," I rasped, for wounded I still was, only from the brink of death had I been taken, "I thought…I thought I saw my kin. Thrain and Thror, Fili and Kili. I was in the hall of waiting. Wasn't I?"
"Yes, dear Thorin, you were," Gandalf said kindly. "But I have recalled you from the shadows of death. They shall have to take you another day."
"I don't understand," I said. Before I could question the grey wizard further, a spasm in my side where my flesh had been rent caused me to groan. Gandalf applied some more kingsfoil and bandages, along with a less poignant healing spell. This he whispered, as if no one were to hear. I winced as the ground herbs mingled with my battered flesh, but shortly felt relieved as the cool juices quieted the wound.
"Gandalf, why did you not let me die? It is what I deserve!" I groaned.
"No, Thorin. You do not deserve to die, not yet. Those deeds at the gate were the deeds of a Thorin that was not you. You have repented them, and more than redeemed yourself. You do not know into what safety you have birthed Middle Earth…for now…"
Those last two words were to Gandalf himself, and I feel I was not supposed to hear. Still, I did not quite comprehend the wizard's meaning. Even if he spoke truth, I now wished to be dead! What had I to live for? I posed the question to him:
"Gandalf, I rather I would have died. I told Fili and Kili, all of the dwarves, that if we were to burn with dragon fire, we would all burn together. If we were to die tonight, we would all die together. In death I kept my promise. I life I break it."
"But not all of the Thorin Oakenshield Company has died, has it? And what of your friend, Bilbo?" Gandalf queried.
I struggled in my mind, wrestled with my heart. I could not say I loved my company and burglar more than my kin, but nor could I say I loved my kin more than company! It was a bitter fight, and I felt distraught with anguish.
"Gandalf, if you could raise me, surely…surely you could raise up Fili and Kili as well?" I pleaded, as another breath rattled my broken ribs.
The wizard shook his head sadly, his piercing eyes soft with compassion.
"They have already passed through the halls of waiting. You alone could I save, for, if you had listened, I told you I pulled you from the brink of death –not death itself. I could not have recalled you otherwise."
I put my head back on the pillow and looked up at the fluttering ceiling of the tent. Just then the door, too, fluttered, and Bilbo Baggins entered.
I greeted him quietly, and he was taken aback.
"Thorin! My friend, can it be? Have you come back from the grave? I just told the others of your death, and here comes Bard with the Arkenstone," Bilbo smiled bewilderedly at me and in turn Gandalf.
Before Gandalf or I could explain, Bard entered with the stone. It scudded to the floor; for the Lakeman had dropped it in surprise.
"You are alive!" he cried.
I nodded slowly, and said, "I am sorry to say that I am. Though Gandalf may find merit in me, I know you, Bard, feel the wrong I have done."
Bard shook his head. "I wished death upon Smaug only. Not upon you, not even after you took back your word."
"I do apologize…though I'm sure my word mean little to you now," I replied meekly.
"I must say I shall probably do no dealings with dwarves in the future, if I can help it," Bard said, with an uneasy smile. "But you are the Mountain King. The prophecies say so. You must live, and rule your people," Bard said.
I was unsure if this was forgiveness, or a begrudging statement.
"The dwarves need you," added Bilbo, smiling.
I shook my gory locks.
"I do not trust myself to rule. Even now I see the Arkenstone upon the floor and a strange sensation wells up deep within me. It is too powerful, and I am too weak. I will again succumb to its greed. Yet, the dwarves will try, from their kindness, to make me King under the Mountain. But I will have not the strength to throw away the king's jewel. Let Dain be King under the Mountain. Let it be said that I am dead, so that his rule may be accepted without question. Let the past be in the past. And when you act to bury me, bury the Arkenstone as well. It's corrupting days shall be done," I decreed.
Gandalf nodded slowly, his bushy eyebrows bunching up beneath the brim of his pointy, blue hat in deep thought.
"I will tell them myself I have placed the stone upon your chest," said Bard, before Gandalf could give an answer.
I feebly stretch forth my hand, and Bard took it warmly.
"Please forgive me," I begged, something I think I had never done before. "The destruction of Lake Town was my fault, and you deserve half the gold of Erebor, not that it would ever repay the destruction I have created," I gasped.
"Thorin," Gandalf warned. "You are not yet well. Refrain from straining yourself."
"No, this must be said."
"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!" Gandalf cried.
"All is forgiven," said Bard. And at once I felt a cool peace wash over me. "It was Smaug who destroyed Lake Town. Someone else would have gone searching for Erebor's treasure eventually, and the dragon would have emerged from the Mountain someday. It was inevitable, prophecy or no prophecy."
"But to be corrupted by the Arkenstone is beyond excuse," I said.
No one argued with me, but I was forgiven. And for the first time Gandalf wondered if the stone was a tool of Sauron…though he made no comment at the time.
About this time a clamoring could be heard outside, at the foot of the mountain.
"They wonder at the Mountain King's fate," said Bilbo, who was kneeling at my bedside.
"And we must tell them of his demise," Gandalf said solemnly.
"You actually agree with my plan?" I asked with a ghost of a smile.
"I do," nodded Gandalf, tipping the brim of his blue, pointed hat. "The Arkenstone shall be buried with you, though you will be absent, that it may not tempt the hearts of dwarves again." He ushered Bilbo and Bard to come with him and announce the terrible news. Before entrusting them to speak to anyone, Gandalf swore Bard and Bilbo to secrecy for the rest of their lives, or the rest of mine.
Gandalf spoke to them just outside the tent.
"Your knowledge could be potentially perilous. These dwarves would surely seek Thorin out if they knew he lived, undermining Dain's authority. And Thorin now has a quest of his own that I shall give him shortly. So, what you know, you must keep secret, safe. You will wish to comfort their mourning. Do so only by giving them hope of Dain's good nature, and Thorin's redemption at the 'end.'" Gandalf instructed.
I demanded of Gandalf when he returned to the tent, "Why, though, am I allowed to live? I must have purpose, Gandalf, or I shall go mad!" for I had not heard every bite of conversation, such as the one about a quest.
"I have a purpose for you, master dwarf, fear not," smiled Gandalf, and something in his tone made me sure that what was in store may rival even the quest for Erebor. He added coolly, "I believe this purpose is of the utmost importance…"
Author here! Hope you liked this! Hooray for Thorin, right? Reviews make me happy :D I'm not really sure how I will continue this...if you have ideas for it let me know! Please! And just because Gandalf didn't recall Fili and Kili doesn't mean they won't take part in this story! This is fantasy and fanfiction, after all! :) Just let me know if you want to see them, and I can try to figure out how to get them in. Thanks!
For those who read the earlier version: do you like Thorin POV better than third person?