Smaug, the Terrible, was dead, the Battle of the Five Armies was won, the Necromancer in Dol Guldur had retreated back into shadow and only few orcs had survived the battle against the combined forces of dwarves, elves and men. But Middle Earth was far from peaceful.
A dark shadow crossed the lands, but it did not linger until it had reached the Eastern realm of Rhun. There, it decended upon the land and the people to bring nothing but ruin.
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After many weeks of shock and despair, the people of Rhun learned to live with the threatening shadow and tried to live their lives in a land with no warming sunlight and only little hope. Alarming rumors about the exiled dwarven king Thorin Oakenshield valiantly reclaiming the Lonely Mountain had reached every corner in Middle Earth and the news of the death of the last fire drake spread even faster than an eagle could fly. Rhun had never reached out for the people in the West in diplomatic relations and the fact that the West had once again strengthened their position with the victorious battle over a fire drake and the forces of evil was bad news for the political leadership of the eastern lands. But they had to struggle more dangerous problems than the Western neighbours regaining their strength.
Life in Rhun was changing, not that it had been a properous and rich land before, but things got worse by the day. The dark shadow lingered over the rough landscape and the grey hills. It had been a while since the sun had been shining in its full glory. It was as if a threatening fog had descended upon Rhun, a dark force that nobody could grasp; illusive and dangerous.
In his despair, the king of Rhun turned to the West for help. Or at least, that was what he wanted his people to think. King Dario was a greedy and corrupted man, who put his personal wealth above all else. He did not care about his people, he did not care about their starving or suffering. All he wanted was wealth and most of all gold.
With a longing gaze, the king of Rhun turned to the West, where he could see the tip of the Lonely Mountain under a foggy horizon. Due to the lack of sun, his lands wasted away and the crops turned foul. His trading routes were diminishing and less people bought merchandise and food from Rhun. Many merchants had fallen sick due to the lack of healthy crops and many had ruined their reputation in selling foul food. His people were slowly starving, but the king was only interested in his wealth. He had to look for different ways to get his hands onto riches, now that trade was practically gone. But there was still one thing he could trade, something the dwarves of Erebor needed more than anything at the moment. Protection.
King Thorin only had a few dwarves by his side and his cousin Dain was too weak to protect both the Iron Hills and Erebor after the costly battle. The dwarves of Erebor would return, but they would have to cross half of Middle Earth to wander back from Ered Luin to Erebor and the road was dangerous. King Thorin would need an army.
And in return, he would get his gold.
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Thorin watched small army from the East march upon his mountain with barely concealed anger. The arrogant king of Rhun had forced him into a bargain, a bargain which suited both sides, but had not been Thorin´s first choice. The king had sent a letter, informing Thorin about his visit and the purpose, but he had arrived in Erebor before Thorin had the time to think about the offer. The eastern king knew that Thorin had no choice and Thorin would never again let his pride stand in the way of a peaceful life for his people. He would secure the mountain and hold it until his people had returned from Ered Luin, he would protect their home. The fact that this eastern king knew that Thorin had no choice but to accept his offer and showed this in the open was almost too much for Thorin´s pride. It took Bilbo and Balin hours to point out the good and bad sides of such a bargain, but in the end they had agreed, that Erebor needed protection and that the Iron Hills would not be able to help without leaving their own flanks vulnerable. The men of Dale had their own problems and Thranduil would never send elves to their rescue again, not after the losses his elves had to take in the last battle.
Now, the king of Rhun offered them his immortals. Thorin´s first instinct told him not to trust the dangerous mercenaries, who were called immortals. They knew only little about those men - Ori had told him all he knew about those mythical soldiers, but it had not been much. Trained right from the day when they started walking, the immortals were some of the most deadly fighters in Middle Earth. They were ruthless, pitiless and efficient. They did not need much for themselves and they pledged their loyalty to the one who paid them enough. They wore a black armor and shining mask which covered their ugly faces, rumor had it, that an immortal man´s face was so terrifying that it had to be covered with a mask so that it could be looked upon by the ones who paid them.
These men were supposed to guard his mountain and to protect the caravans coming from Ered Luin and Thorin worried. He did not worry about his riches, but he worried about the lack of honor and loyalty of those mercenaries. The protection of his people would be in the hands of strangers and Thorin hated the fact that there was nothing else for him to do, but accept the bargain.
'Is there no other choice?' Fili, Thorin´s heir, asked his uncle. 'We cannot trust them.'
'Well, in fact we can.' Balin sighed in defeat. 'They fight for the one who pays them, it is that simple. King Dario pays them and ordered them to protect this mountain and its inhabitants and that they will do.'
'What if someone pays them more?' Fili asked with a frown. 'They will switch sides faster than we can call for arms.'
'Who would even be able to pay them more than us?' Balin looked at Thorin in worry. 'If king Dario broke his word, we still had enough gold that we could pay a battalion of immortals for thousands of years and still be rich. That should not be a problem. By the way, what did the king want for his soldiers in return?'
'Rhun is starving.' Bilbo stated sadly. 'I spoke to one of the merchants last month. Their fields are wasting away, their crops are foul and the people grow desperate. We should give them some of our food in return, we do not have much yet, but maybe it would be a first step to a strong diplomatic relationship to the eastern realm.'
'The king did not ask for food.' Thorin crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'He only wants gold.'
'But…..' Bilbo saw the frown on Thorin´s face and started to worry. The goldsickness had disappeared after the battle and he was sure that Thorin had been victorious over the curse, but sometimes he was afraid that the strain of rebuilding his kingdom for his kin could be too much and throw him back into the golden claws of the dragon´s curse. 'Will you give it to them?'
Thorin´s expression grew softer as he looked at his friend. 'I already made this mistake once – I held the gold above all, above loyalty, above friendship and above honor. I will never make that mistake again. If the king wants gold, he shall have it.'
Thorin winced as he saw the relieved expressions on the faces of his company. He knew that he had to earn their trust again, but he wished that he had never betrayed it in the first place. Now, their safety and the safety of this mountain and his kin was his first priority.
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'Sire, you really want to trade our military power to the dwarves of Erebor?' king Darios old advisor had looked at his king with wide eyes.
'Not our lowly soldiers, our immortals' Dario grinned as he had turned toward the advisor. 'I will offer two hundred of our immortals to king Thorin for a small amount of his dwarven gold and he will accept. His cousin, lord Dain, has suffered high losses in battle, his soldiers cannot protect his realm as well as the Lonely Mountain. King Thorins people have to travel the wild once again, from Ered Luin to Erebor. The road is dangerous – I have seen to it myself, actually. The king of Erebor will have no other choice, than to accept my generous offer. He will need my immortals and their cavalry.´
'I do not think that this is wise...' the advisor had dared to say, but his king would not have it.
'I did not ask for your opinion!' the king had roared and had slammed his fist onto the marble table. ´I will present my immortals to king Thorin myself. I want to see the gold that I will get in exchange for my generosity.´
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Thorin II Oakenshield, king under the mountain, frowned as he looked at the dwarven messenger. Over two hundred men from the east moved towards his mountain, most of them heavily armoured and on horses. According to their messenger, they had come in peace, as their king had said. King Dario even accompanied them himself, but Thorin still did not trust his word. If they wanted war, he would have to shut the gates and wait for his cousin to come for his aid – again. And the gates were still not fully rebuild after their costly battle. They would not last a day against a full scale attack. Thorin clenched his teeth in annoyance. He had barely a hundred dwarves under his mountain, most of them craftsdwarves and only some were military trained. His own king´s guard were dwarves of his loyal company, two out of the thirteen loyal friends and kin who had followed him through countless perils. Dwalin and Dori had taken over the duties as the king´s guard and Dwalin´s brother Balin stood by his king as a loyal advisor. It was him who warned Thorin to be careful.
'Thorin, the people of Rhun are not to be trusted.´Balin spoke freely, for only Thorin´s closest of kin was present. His nephews, Fili and Kili, as well as his master spy Nori and his brother Ori were in the room with them. And at Thorin´s side stood a hobbit – it was Bilbo Baggins, the company´s burglar, who had decided to stay in Erebor until it was an established and powerful kingdom again. His loyalty, his friendship and his clever mind were held above everything else by the king and he trusted him blindly. It was the hobbit who could moderate the king´s temper and who could talk reason when the stubbornness of dwarves would ruin any form of negotiation. He was considered kin by the dwarves of Thorin´s company and even the dwarves of the Iron Hills began to respect the hobbit from the Shire for his service and his loyalty.
'Dwalin and Dori will be in the throne room with me.´Thorin informed his advisors. 'This is all the protection I need.´
'Maybe we should show more caution. We know only little about the men of Rhun. ' Bilbo insisted with a smile. 'I may already have an idea.´
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When the king of Rhun entered the mountain, he almost wanted to turn around again. The stench was almost overwhelming and it was cold and inhospitable near the broken gate. He told his small army to stay outside, only the captain of the immortals was to follow him into the mountain. An old dwarf with a white beard and a kind face greeted them and bowed deeply.
'Balin, at your service.' he spoke with an heavy dwarvish accent.
'King Dario, ruler of Rhun and the Eastern provinces.' Dario did not bow, for he would bow to no dwarf. 'I believe that I have business with the king under the mountain. Please, lead the way.´
The old dwarf, Balin, bowed again, this time with a more reserved expression and led the way deeper into the mountain.
Dario gasped as he was led into a huge hall full of pillars, some broken and some cracked, but still very impressive. At the end of the hall was a tall throne, its headpiece broken and its pedestal ruined. Dario almost sneered at the dwarf sitting on the broken throne. How could a king even dareto greet his guests on a throne which reflected the state of his own broken kingdom? The king of Rhun sighed and showed his best smile. He wanted his gold.
'King Thorin, I feel delighted and outmost honored to set foot inside of your glorious mountain.' Dario smiled at the dwarf´s frown. ´I feel even more honored that you accepted my offer.´
The frown on the dwarf´s face deepened and he still did not speak. Dario grew nervous, but in his arrogance, he did not even look at the dwarves standing right and left of the throne. He did not see a black haired dwarf in rich clothing and a furious glare stand on the left side and he did not see the hobbit at his side, who already saw his negotiation plans slip through his fingers.
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Thorin sneered in disgust as he watched the king walk towards the throne. One immortal followed him in a respectful distance; he moved gracefully and held his masked face up with pride. The masks of the immortals were showing horrible and frightening grimaces, this one was wearing a golden mask with a mouth that was deformed into a snarl and a frown that matched Thorin´s own.
'Well, look at that, this immortal has your frown.´ Bilbo stated in an amused tone. The hobbit stood behind his king and watched their guests with interest.
Thorin only rolled his eyes, but he could not be angry at his friend´s remark. Nothing Bilbo could ever say would make him turn his back on his friend again, that, Thorin had sworn. He considered himself lucky to have gained the hobbit´s forgiveness after he had fallen under the curse of Durin while reclaiming Erebor. He still felt ashamed by his actions at the gate of Erebor, cursing his allies and almost killing his loyal burglar for hiding his birth right from him in times of peril.
Thorin´s attention was drawn back to the king of Rhun, who looked at the throne of Erebor with barely contained disgust. Thorin knew that it would take a very long time to rebuild Erebor and turn it into the splendid kingdom of old, but the eastern king´s open disrespect for his kingdom and himself made Thorin furious. But Thorin did not sit on the throne.
Gloin was sitting on the throne, his beard perfectly braided and shining, his armour shimmering in the light of the torches and his expression stony. Bilbo had suggested that they should use Gloin as a decoy, to gather some information about the foreign king and to be able to watch him closely. Thorin should watch the king without being watched and judged himself. But he did not like what he saw. He could see the greed gleam in the eyes of the king of Rhun. A gleam he had seen himself while looking into a mirror many months before. He could also see the disrespect in Dario's bearing and the dismissal in his actions.
King Dario was falling into the trap. Bilbo had stated that the king of Rhun was too sure about having the high ground in this bargain and he should be taught a lesson. Not recognising the true king of Erebor would be a disgrace, an embarassing diplomatic slip. Thorin smiled as king Dario began to speak to Gloin, mistaking him for the king because he sat on the throne.
It was the immortal, who surprised them all. He was standing behind his king, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was not armed, because he as well as the king had to enter the throne room unarmed and nobody could tell wether he felt insecure about it or not. The mystery around this man was one of the things which fuelled the legend of the immortals. Nobody really knew them and nobody could read them.
Bilbo watched him closely and could see his head move as he looked at each and everyone of them. He could feel a cold tickle as the immortal´s stare landed on him for a while longer than on the others. But then, the immortal looked at Thorin. Slowly, his bearing changed and Bilbo could see him looked at Gloin and then back at Thorin.
Bilbo gasped as the immortal man gracefully walked past his king, past Gloin and kneeled in front of Thorin.