I have decided to continue this sequence of one-shots. The general plan is to try and post at least one a week, but maybe more.

On that note, and due to the request from a comment which has seemed to disappear, I am also going to write Thorin's reaction when he realizes that he knows Elrond too (as a sequel to Chapter one, however, that will be posted elsewhere).

With my term just starting back, I've been fairly busy, so here is just a very short little tale for you to enjoy!

Summary: The knowledge of responsibility weighs heavy on young Thorin's shoulders, but luckily his grandfather is there to put his still innocent mind at rest.


The green halls quaked with a terrible noise and there were screaming dwarfs everywhere. Young Thorin stood at the top of a stairwell as he watched his people running in all directions. Something awful was happening and Thorin did not know what. He hurried down the stairs and looked around. Fire everywhere.

Thorin, still short, ran between the legs of the adults. Everyone was afraid, even the once-brave soldiers. Thorin was knocked down. He fell next to a still body, but he could not bear to look and see if they were still alive. Thorin had never seen so much blood, nor had he heard so much screaming. His heart beat quickened and his stomach turned.

"Mama" He called out, frantically searching for a familiar face. He found one. He father lay in a pool of blood, eyes lifeless. Besides him, his mother and infant brother lay dead as well. He screamed and ran to them, tears streaming down his face.

That scream woke him from the terrible dream he had had. He looked around, listening. The halls were quiet, with the only sound coming from his parent's room just a few doors down. It was the sound of peaceful, but loud, snores.

Thorin rolled out of his bed, tangled in his sheets, and landed in a heap on the floor. He straightened himself out and got to his feet, still shaking from the images of his dead family. Slowly he crept out of his room, determined not to cause anyone alarm. In his baby brother's room, he found the infant to be sound asleep. He sighed and nodded.

Shivering now, from the layer of sweat which had developed on him during the dream, he continued down the hall to find both his mother and father whole. They were all okay, but that thought did not put the young prince's mind at ease. What if that changed? What if one day he woke to find that everyone he loved was gone? That he was all alone to care for this whole kingdom? He was afraid that he could not do it; he did not want to be alone.

Thorin had been trying ever since the birth of his brother one year ago to be an adult and no longer a baby. As thoughts began to swirl in his head of the daunting responsibilities he would have to face he wanted very much to curl up in his mother's arm and be sung to until he fell back asleep. It was hard to act so brave when he was still so young. He began to turn and enter his parents' room, but he was stopped by a voice.

"Thorin, my child, what are you doing up?"

Thorin turned to see his grandfather at the end of the hall, bag of gold in his hands. Thrór had been counting gold all through dinner, and it seemed that he had only just finished the task.

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but could not find a single word. He was so afraid and could not rid himself of the weight of his dream. Instead he just looked at his grandfather, with large, blue eyes—mouth agape. He shivered and sniffled, trying not to cry. Somehow, seeing his grandfather standing there, alive and well, made the flood of emotions he had felt when he had woken up come rushing back.

Thrór was to him before the boy had time to cry out, bag of gold left forgotten on the floor. He scooped his grandson up and turned to take him back to his room. Halfway down the hall, he remembered the gold. He paused and turned to inspect it, lying innocently on the floor, tied securely in the sack. Thorin was crying softly into Thrór's great beard. He quickly retrieved the bag and then carried Thorin into the room. There, he sat down with the boy on his bed. It groaned under the weight of the fully grown dwarf. He noted that the blankets were in a tangled heap on the floor and he sighed, knowing exactly what had happened.

"Your father used to have terrible nightmares too, as did I." He spoke softly to his grandson, knowing that even through the tears, the young boy was listening.

He nodded wisely and continued on. "Even as a young boy, the weight of this family and this kingdom rests on your shoulders. You're far too young to be expected to know of the evils which are out there, and yet you do. It is the price of being the prince that you are. But one day, you will be strong like me, your father, and my father before."

"I know it seems hard for you to imagine, being so small and the world being so big, but you will not be alone. You have a family that loves you, and a kingdom that adores you. You have a home here that will never leave." Thrór said quietly to the boy, who had stopped crying.

"Promise?" Came a small voice, muffled by the old King's beard.

"I do." Thrór reassured. "This is a mighty kingdom, and you are from a mighty line. The gods favor us, young Thorin, rest assured Erebor will be yours forever and we will not leave you to the task until you are ready. You have many years before that happens." Thrór said with complete certainty. He chuckled slightly, thinking of the peaceful kingdom he had built for his family.

Thorin looked into his grandfather's eyes, searching them. When he found no hint of a lie he nodded and continued to nuzzle into his grandfather. "I believe you." He whispered, as peaceful dreams carried him away, and he did.


After Thrór tucked his grandson away, he scooped up the bag of gold and continued on his way to his beloved study. His thoughts were on his troubled grandson when he entered, but shortly after that, they turned to something else.

The bag of gold in his thick hand seemed lighter than when had left the gold chambers. What was this treachery? He inspected the bag and noticed that the string which held it closed had come loose. It was probably from when he had tucked Thorin in.

Thrór wasted no time in empting its contents onto his desk. He counted it over twice and came to find that ten golden coins were missing. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to retrace his footsteps. Ten coins were a trivial matter in the long run, but one could not be too cautious with their gold.

He found two coins at the top of the stairwell, and four where he had scooped Thorin up originally. But where were the other four? Thrór entered Thorin's room quietly, conscious of the sleeping boy. Two of the coins were on the bed next to the resting boy, but the last two were tucked under his light figure.

Thrór gently rolled Thorin onto his side, hoping to retrieve his last coins without waking the boy, but Thorin had always been a light sleeper.

"Gwampa?" Thorin said, his voice slurring slightly with sleep.

"Just checking on you, go back to sleep now." Thrór said quietly as he ran one hand over his grandson's hair as he quickly grabbed the final coins up. "Just keeping you safe."

Thorin fell back to sleep as easily as he had woken up and Thrór left the room with his ten gold coins, feeling content. He had not lied to the young prince. No, Thrór was indeed just keeping Thorin safe. The gold would protect them from any hardship they faced.


Please review if you would be so kind! It helps my self-esteem greatly!

Summary for the next story: Boys are dirty, stinky things. Especially dwarfish boys.