Here's basically just a filler story-type Hobbit fanfic that takes place near the beginning of An Unexpected Journey. It's an account of the meeting that the Dwalin tells Gandalf Thorin is attending and is written entirely from Throin's POV. Oh, and thanks to my brother for the original idea here! Quick disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, nor any of its characters or places. All I have are collectibles and a wish to someday visit New Zealand. And, last but not least, reviews would be valued more than a dragon's hoarded gold!


Pieces of a Broken Past

Why did the fools still deliberate? Did they not see that it was truly the right time to take our stand, put up our fight? What was so unclear to them?

"Thorin," Dain Ironfoot addressed me. "Do not misunderstand me. I understand why you wish to take Erebor back, and why right now." I turned a steely gaze upon him. He did not seem to be on my side. "But you must also realize that I cannot risk the lives of my entire army, my people, against the wrath of Smaug."

"Have you not heard the rumors?" I began, now standing. "None have seen the dragon in the last sixty years. Our treasure, our home, may be waiting for us, unprotected. We could walk in and take back out kingdom without spilling a single drop of blood."

"Yes, but rumors are only just that. Rumors," Dain replied, still calmly. "Unless, you would like a repeat of what happened the first time we faced down against Smaug's wrath?" His voice became heated in recalling the past, prompting him to stand as well, facing off against me. "Hundreds of our men, mercilessly slain, tainting our once grand halls! Even more of our people left in mourning, having lost dear family members as well as their home to the beast!" Is that what you want again, Thorin?"

"Of course not."

"Then why suggest such an idea?"

I hesitated. How could I tell him it was for my own pride in restoring my people to their homeland? To finally gain the respect we had long been denied, retake my birthright? Dain wtill watched me expectantly.

"I don't understand what the big idea here is," yawned a young dwarf. Younger than Fili, one who could not have seen Erebor's fall, much less its days of splendor. "Why do you two care so much?"

"What I would like to know," I replied, spilling as much venom into my voice as I possibly could, "is why anyone would put one so ignorant onto this council."

He said nothing, but sat still with a strong defiance though my accusation did visibly surprise him.

"You know nothing of the world," I spat, readying to turn my attention back to Dain.

"That's not true!" he retorted, finding his voice once again. "I do understand the world!"

"Do you?" I looked back at him, feigning intrigue. The young, stubborn dwarf raised his head higher, as if he had actually accomplished something through his petty arguments. "Have you ever seen magnificent halls, befit for only the greatest king, adorned with works of such supreme craftsmen that even Aule himself could not match? You have never seen our race treated with nothing less than the utmost respect, recognized by both men and elves alike, both our allies and our enemies. Knowing that all of this will someday soon be yours and waiting with anxious impatience for that day to arrive."

His head began to droop, finally beginning to realize the importance of our mission, of our stolen homeland.

I continued on, relentless and unforgiving now. He must learn his place. "You could not have had so much taken from you so cruelly, so suddenly. The only home you have ever known, stolen by some power hungry beast. Good friends laying dead around you as you loved ones become obsessed with material thoughts, rotting their minds, controlling their every action, leading to their ends and threatening your future."

"Thorin…" Dain warmed, but I heeded him not.

"A once proud race, now disheartened and without a home, no more than despair written in their eyes, looking to you for the support that you know you cannot provide them. Knowing that there is nothing you can do alone to help them and must suffer the sting of defeat. Never have you lost your family to death and madness, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces of a broken past!"

By now the younger dwarf sat low in submission, fearful of what I had revealed to him, of what he never bothered to understand. "Dain…" he whimpered softly, looking for help, the determined fight in his eyes now entirely extinguished.

"Thorin, do not blame him so; he is still young yet."

"And worth nothing here."

"Yet you take those boys with you without question? Fili and Kili, they are hardly any older."

"Fili and Kili are of the line of Durin," I explained, not bothering to keep the anger out of my voice. "They must learn to fight and lead in order to take over the throne after we reclaim Erebor, when their time comes. It is their birthright as it is mine!"

"So you will still insist on this."

"There is no other way."

"Then this will be your quest alone," Dain replied as he rose once again, pushing away from the table and making to end our meeting. "We shall take no part in this suicide mission of yours, though I am inclined to wish you the best of luck," he ended curtly before exiting, taking all his councilors with him and leaving the room entirely empty around me.

With all of the rest of them gone, I laid my hands out flat on the table, contemplating the future, wondering at our chances. Without Dain's aid, our numbers stood at only thirteen, though they had each and every one of them probed more loyal than any of the individuals on this council. Of course there still did remain Gandalf and this mysterious burglar of his. Even so, could this be enough to accomplish such a feat? Gandalf did tell me to trust in him, but nonetheless I feared for what his decisions may have been.

The last thing we need on our journey is a liability. The wild is no place for gentle folk, and after witnessing so much death and destruction in our grand halls, I will not, cannot, be responsible for the loss of one more life.