Little Dragon, Why must you Burn the Pines?

"Eventually, everything goes away." –Elizabeth Gilbert

"Odin?" A voice whispered. The prince twitched with a great pain behind his eyes and his body fatigued. His blue eyes cracked open to meet the grey eyes of Balder with Sol behind him. Odin drew himself up onto his knees, trying to not fall backward as his head gauged how much balance he had. His eyes rose, taking in his surroundings. He had gotten separated from his father and Dain and was dragged off of in an odd direction, almost toward the River Running. But this was not where he had landed, or so he thought. He was now in the ruins of an old watchtower near the borders of Mirkwood. The ground was steadily becoming a sickly green color; the ground was turning into blight. His glanced back at Balder concerned as he stood.

Sol whirled around, gripping his wrist making him jump. "How… How did I get here? That Easterling didn't drag me this far, did he?" Odin asked, Sol gave him a stern look, taking the side of his face roughly and inspecting a patch of dried blood and scabbed skin that had formed on his shoulder. "Sol, Balder what has happened?"

"All of our leaders are dead, excluding you and Kili," Sol snapped. Balder gripped her shoulder, which made her stiffened physically. Odin's heart jolted painfully in his chest. He met the green eyes of Sol, who was clearly agitated. That meant his father, mother, Lord Dain, Brand, and Bard were dead. He took a step back as his balance gave away with his mind blank. Dead… His mother and father were gone; killed by the Easterlings. His hands covered his face as he shook, unable to quell the growing despair in his heart. "We need you to get back to Erebor; our people in a damned frenzy."

"I am not going back," Odin replied weakly. Sol groaned, shaking her head.

"And why the hell not? You are the only remaining heir to the throne! Fili is dead, and Kili cannot take up the crown because of his place as Captain of the Guard. Damn it, Odin! You are the heir apparent." Sol scolded, her voice rising because of her anger.

Odin's eyes snapped up as his despair took a turn and delved into fury. "How do you even know they are dead?! What proof do you have?"

Sol hissed out a curse and tossed a white stone pendant at him, which he fumbled to catch. Blood tainted the purity of the pendant and his thumb stroked away the taint. This necklace belonged to his father. He glanced up at Sol again, scoffing and tucking the necklace away. "That pendant is-,"

"My father's; I know," He replied shortly. "But what of Fili and my mother? You have nothing that belongs to them."

"Actually…" Balder interjected, his voice slightly unsure if he should be doing what he was doing currently. Odin's gaze softened as he looked at his friend, who withdrew a bow and quiver from a nearby pony. Ebony and dark green feathers stuck out from the top of the quiver along with a yew long bow. And after setting that aside, he withdrew one of Fili's swords, the steel no longer shining through the heavy coating of blood upon it. Odin's heart gave him another stab of pain as he touched the quiver. "I'm sorry, Odin… But you need to do this; no else can. As of now, you are the King under the Mountain."

"Balder, not you too," Odin hissed. Balder shut his eyes tightly, taking a step back and kneeling before him. The prince tapped his friend on the shoulder, making his gaze rise. It was then that his mind snapped back into place; no anger, it became clear once more. Balder practically his brother, and surely no brother of his would be kneeling before him. "I am no king, nor do you need to bow before me. Even when I do take the throne; I won't subject you to that."

Balder smirked, "You sound really stupid when you are depressed…"

Sol snorted, "Are you going to take up the throne or not, squirt?"

Odin frowned at the old nickname, but shook it off. His heart and head were torn; one told him to fight for his land while the other sought to let the Easterlings go free. He looked over at Balder and Sol, both who had rather serious expression upon their faces. The prince tapped his fingers on his gauntlet in thought. His heart still wallowed in sorrow, but his mind had stopped its wallowing when Balder had kneeled. His heart loved this land, this Middle-Earth more than one could ever believe, it loved the mountain he had called home for years, and by the Maker he was not going to let a bunch of cutthroats and nomads take it.

"I'll do it, but I won't like it," Odin answered. Sol smirked, walking over to a short horse and withdrew Orcrist from its sheath. He was surprised to see t away from his father, or rather how someone could have gotten his father let go of it. She offered it to him, and he gave her a quizzical look. Orcrist was the sword of the King… He mentally chuckled; King… He took up Orcrist, inspecting the blade closely; the curve of the blade, the Cirth runes, he took in everything as if he had never held the sword before. His father had let him hold Orcrist once, and it was very brief for at the time he was small and could not hold its weight in his hands.

"We should head back before your aunt starts pushing people down stairwells," Sol stated as she swung up onto a pony. Odin chuckled and mounted the horse, taking note that it was quite small. It was a deep roan with no flecks of grey aside for a single white sock on its back left leg.

"Where'd you find this one?" Odin asked as he started towards Erebor. Sol and Balder snickered, making Odin shake his head. "Be honest."

"Snatched him from an Easterling, and Easterlings horses are some of the fastest horses alive," Sol replied as her pony passed him. "But that's some horse master's opinion. In all honesty, it's a horse. How can it be faster than any other horse? I could say that this pony was faster than all other ones, but then I'd be lying."

"Faster? More like fatter," Balder quipped. Odin smiled, but it faded quickly when his gaze landed on Dale. Its great walls crumbled and great tents of hide lay at its base with some leading into the city itself. There were still so many left; how on earth were they going to kill so many of them? It almost seemed like a lost cause to fight them. Dealings with the Easterlings seemed like an attempt to fight back the sea's pull. Sol and Balder's voices faded from his hearing as he studied the remnants of Dale. They had torn the gates from their hinges, set fire to the homes, and crushed the walls into useless rubble. Odin clicked his tongue for the horse to move on and followed Balder and Sol back to Erebor with the hopes of fixing his people.

As the prince's horse clambered up the slopes of Erebor, Odin felt a sense of dread claim him. The pathways were typically smooth and a light grey from years of being traveled on. Now they were slick with blood like a rain had come during the battle. There was little that the blood did not touch. It dripped down from rocks creating red veins in the grey. The scent of copper and metal was unbearable, yet one could not hide from it; it was everywhere, in the air, into one's clothes, and could possibly permeate one's skin if you stood out there too long.

The gates of Erebor stood closed, most likely locked, keeping Odin from entering. He dismounted his horse, and looked up at the catwalk above the gate hoping to spy someone. Now, Odin was all ready upset as it was but being locked out of his mountain was slowly making him irritated. He uttered a low curse and yelled up at the people on the catwalk. A head poked over the side, and then disappeared. The gates became cracked open revealing Dís and she waved for him to come inside. He slipped inside only to be embraced tightly by a relieved Dís.

"Where did you go? How did you even dodge the Easterlings? What happened to Fili, Thorin, and Coruwen?" She asked, her voice shaky and her eyes watery. Odin squeezed her hands before heading off to the throne room where Freya slept. "Odin, answer me…"

He paused halfway up the steps, silently dreading to even speak about the latter question, much less tell her how he had escaped. He had seen the look on his mother's face when he had kicked Freya in the snout; the look of pure concern and terror. He did not desire to tell his aunt that almost all of their family had been taken by the Easterlings. It was…It was too much. He felt his throat constrict as his mind tried to piece together words.

"Auntie… They-," He stopped unable to hold back the despair in his heart. It almost seemed cruel to rip away his cousin and parents. He tightened his hands into fist, shutting his eyes. His soul writhed in sorrow as he opened his eyes slightly. Clearly by his expression alone Dís could tell what he could speak. Her face was troubled, yet passive. Her topaz eyes blinked in shock, and Odin swore he saw her sway a bit. "Auntie, I-I…

"You go see Freya, Odin," Dís ordered sharply. He tried to move towards her, but she gave him a stern glare making him stop dead in his tracks. "Go, now."

He nodded, turned, and starting up the steps again. The throne room was quiet, deathly quiet in fact. Freya was lying behind the stones thrones with her horse head held high catching the dwindling sunset light. The light was gold; painting her neck scales a pale gold almost making her appear like her lost son and mother, Lady Bright Scales. Freya had always been in his life, and he loved her a great deal and the majesty she held in one claw was greater than this mountain. He had grown up with her stories of her father and the first Dragon War, the first taste of power dragons ever had encountered; all of which came from Melkor and later Sauron. Freya had told him stories of her father, Ancalagon and his place as king over all dragons, how he ruled with a firm claw, or his case, paw. No doubt Freya had obtained all of her father's venerable nature and mother's beauty.

"You are thinking of me, Allfather," Freya said, her amber eyes opening with the pupil thin, almost invisible. Odin gave her a faint smile which she returned with a simple flick of her tail across his face. He approached her and came to sit on her paw, running a hand across the smooth scales that were cool to the touch. He nervously rung his hands, and stopped when his thoughts drifted to his parents. "You are grieved… Speak to me and tell me your worries…"

Odin glanced up at her and then back at his feet. He withdrew his father's necklace from his armor, running his thumb across the warm stone. In his grief, he placed his forehead against the pendant hoping that this was merely a dream and he would wake up with everyone alive again. He heard a soft rumble that made his chest vibrate with power, a raw power that made his senses wake up. He glanced back at Freya, who regarded him fondly.

"Come now, my little Allfather, speak and tell your dragoness of your worry," Freya soothed, her breath passing over him. He swept a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging on the braids that rested just behind his ear. He began to unravel the braid and thought of his mother. His mother and her nimble fingers that could weave a braid in mere seconds, and it didn't matter how complex it was. His mother typically wore her hair loose, but she often braided his aunt's hair or Sol's. Upon rare occasions, his mother would braid her hair back in the braids dating back the old elven city of Gondolin. He never understood why she hid her ears behind her hair, or why she only spoke Sindarin to himself or his father… He heard a small chuckle and he turned his gaze back to Freya. "Your mother wanted to keep her old self in the past. She is considered an outcast by her kindred and thus keeps her true lineage a secret. Your mother changed when she married your father, Allfather."

"I feel as if I failed her and Father," Odin mumbled, tucking the white stone pendant back into his armor. "I am no king, I may be a prince but I am no king."

"Nonsense," Freya replied. "Those who deem themselves unworthy end up becoming the most venerable of rulers, little one, never forget that. Your mother thought herself unable to contend with any other woman at court during the time of her freedom. It was your father and Balin that told her that she had every right to rule, and look what she became."

"Freya… I-I can't; my father would haunt me if I screwed up this city. In fact, I'm pretty sure he, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather would haunt me until I died," Odin grumbled, leaning back against Freya. "Kili has more right to rule than me."

Freya snorted out smoke, and flicked her tail through the rings. He watched the smoke dance in the sun's dwindling light, and it reminded him of his father when he would smoke his pipe. He shook it off, telling his mind that memories were a terrible idea right now. As he looked up at Freya, he saw a strange glimmer of amusement in her eyes. He had never seen it before and almost wanted to question it.

"I do believe if Kili ruled over this kingdom; there would be a plethora of little hellions all claiming to be his and there would be terrible ties with Thranduil, along with the occasional breaking of things," Freya stated, causing Odin blink up at her in shock. Had he heard her correctly? She openly mocked his cousin, all of which she said was true, but it still was a terrible something say. She smiled wryly, "Yes, your cousin would turn this city into a bunch of Petty Dwarves, which could warrant his death from the ghosts of your line dating back to Durin the Deathless."

"You think so?"

"Aye, sadly."

Odin slid off of her paw, looking up at her and held out his hand for her. She blew out more smoke and then touched her nose to his palm. The heat of her nose was great, almost like touching a lit brazier. He wanted to recoil, but through all of the pain, he felt strange warmth almost like being wrapped in a blanket. He shut his eyes, and when Freya's nose backed away he opened his eyes again to see something rather shocking. Upon his wrist and arm was a glowing series of marks that looked like apostrophes and dots.

"Vahrukiv him Monah," Freya whispered. Odin gave her a quizzical look, not understanding the strange language she used. It was similar to Khuzdul, yet not at the same time. The dragoness chuckled, "It means Commemorate your Mother… I could have said to respect the line of kings as well, but your thoughts have wandered to your mother the most…"

"What… What did you put on my arm?" Odin asked, still his eyes watched the runes as they pulsed and faded into his skin. He tested his hand, still not sure what strange dragon trickery she had placed on him.

"I gave you my blessing, just as I gave it to your parents upon their wedding day, Allfather," The dragoness tapped her claws upon the ground and then she sighed. "Odin, son of Thorin, I gave that blessing because you are the king of this realm now. So with that out of the way, I ask you one thing. How will you deal with the threat of the Easterlings on your doorstep? The Lake-Men were practically wiped out aside from their women and children, and your people now stand in a pause of frenzy because they do not have a king and their kindred have been slaughtered like lambs."

Odin sighed heavily, passing a hand across his face. As his mind began to piece together a strategy, he heard footstep running up the steps and he instantly turned his attention over to the door where he saw Frigga standing in the doorway with stress etched into her face. Her dark gold hair was frizzy and as she approached him he saw great relief pass in her green eyes. Her hands shook as she looked him over and he gave her a gentle smile. Seeing her lightened his heart a bit, in fact he felt free of his grief when she came to him.

"I thought you were dead," Frigga murmured, her voice breaking in sadness. He chuckled, taking her shaking hands and placing a small kiss on the back of one of them making her squeak. "P-Prince Odin, w-what are you doing?"

"You should not worry so much, Frigga," He replied. "Could you find Kili and bring him to me?" The woman eyed him curiously, but started towards the door. He glanced up at Freya, who swished her tail and gave him a small wink. "Think I scared her?"

"You startled her, little one. You have your father's knack for loving people in odd ways," She told him. "You've heard the story of your father and mother thousands of times, yes?"

"Yes, why would I not? When you tell me that my father showed love in odd ways, I see it differently. Many of the things he did make perfect sense."

"Only a relation that father and son could have, I suppose." She laid her head down, and he placed his hand on her snout. He was pleased to know that one person still believed in him. He rubbed her scaly snout, feeling her presence touch his mind. His mother had told him that his elven blood allowed him to speak to Freya easier than most, and since he grown up with her; the bond was a second nature to him. He rarely used this power, for he found no use for it since Freya was quite vocal and the connection itself could only be used if Freya allowed him into her mind as well. "You are your father's son, Odin."

"I am the son of the King and Queen under the Mountain, Freya. I belong to both of them; I am a mixture of them both…"

"If you say so."

"Odin, you needed me?" Kili asked as he appeared in the doorway. His face was stern and his gold eyes still possessing their commanding nature. Odin assumed he must have just come down from the wall, probably watching the Easterlings. He walked over to Kili, gripping his cousin's shoulder. "What's on your mind?"

"Taking back Dale," Odin replied. A false smirk passed on his cousin's lips and he shook his head, not believing him. "Kili, I'm serious."

"I know you are, squirt," Kili teased, nudging him playfully. Odin knew if Fili were here he would agree with him without a second thought. Dale belonged to the remnants of the Lake-Men not the Easterlings. He narrowed his eyes into a dark glare making Kili stop his joking instantly. "Odin, you're mad! It's folly to even think about taking back that city."

"How? Would Bard not help us if Erebor was taken over by a rabble of madmen?"

Kili opened his mouth and then closed it, slightly pointing at him. "Yes," He covered his mouth with his hand, and started scuffing the ground with his boot. Now Kili has to use entire brain, that's gotta hurt in some fashion, the prince thought. He heard a small rumble from Freya, and he flicked his gaze over to her. Her stern gaze suggested to him that he stop his witty thinking. Kili groaned, "Ok, we'll pretend that we can actually take back that city. What insane plan do you have mind?"

Odin smiled in triumph, his cousin unable to think of anything else. "Well, we do have a fire drake; a certain daughter of Ancalagon the Black if my sources are correct." Freya perked up at the sound of that and he chuckled. Kili made a gesture for him to continue. "We also have a guard that can protect the wall from little strays, but we do have that little force that Sol runs, no?"

"Not exactly the best way of doing things in my book."

"And why should we shun them? They're good at using the shadows to their advantage. If we tell them to strike in the middle of the night armed with poisons, daggers, and whatever else they need; who says that they won't at least make a dent in their forces?"

Kili hummed, and then cocked his head to the side in thought. Odin smiled when Kili gave him an incline of his head.

Odin continued, "I can also call on Thranduil should we need-,"

"Should?"

"-Will need his assistance with this endeavor, seeing as most of our people were killed."

"Anything else you wanna tell me?"

"I find blue jays annoying and I want you to shoot all of them."

Kili laughed, "Ok, I didn't need to know that. But tell me, how are you going to get a raven out when the Easterlings shoot most of them down?"

"Kili, what color are ravens?"

Kili frowned and his hand connected with his forehead. "Black and I am an idiot."

"Glad you admitted it." Kili shot him a dirty look and punched his arm swiftly before turning on his heel and leaving the hall. He chuckled to himself before his gaze landed on Freya, who had a rather amused expression on her face. The prince walked up to her and patted her snout gently. "Do you think you can handle that job, my dragon?"

"Aye, for my lost elleth. They will burn by my fire alone and they will rue the day they set foot upon the Desolation of Smaug."

Odin bowed his head to her, happy to know that the dragoness would back him in this seemingly impossible quest. His heart began to fill with a deep grief again when he started off to Cairn's Roost. The stairs seemed to climb on forever, and it made him stop halfway up to stop his aching heart. His plan seemed right in his mind; destroy the people who destroyed you… A wise man once said that when you go on an act of revenge you dig two graves; one for the person you kill and the other for yourself. That wise man apparently did not have his family killed and his people left to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Odin knew this much, he was going to make those Easterlings regret stepping into the realm of Dale and the Lonely Mountain.

Upon entering Cairn's Roost, Hugin greeted with a chirp and flew down to him. He stroked Hugin gently as he tied a small note to the raven's leg. He led Hugin over to a window and told the raven to fly to Mirkwood. Hugin bobbed his head to Odin and then flew off into the night. Silently, Odin hoped that Hugin would make it to Mirkwood with the news and not be shot down by the Easterlings. He watched Hugin disappear into the midnight sky, thanking the Valar that the sky was overcast allowing Hugin a safer passage into the forests. Through the window, Odin could see the flickering lights of the ruined city of Dale. His heart sank when he started counting the individual fires and found that they exceeded fifty. He took a step back and left the Roost.

When he returned to the throne room, he found Frigga alone; no Freya or Kili. There was a little voice in his head that kept nagging and mocking him that he was too shy around her. Yes, he was shy around her; he didn't know what forced him into this state, but he hated it. He approached Frigga quietly, watching her as if she were foreign to him. He always found her eyes beautiful; a deep shade of emerald that were always happy. Odin sat beside her and rested his hand upon the back of hers. She tensed up, but turned her hand over to grasp his tightly. Her hands were smooth and rather slender for their kind.

"You seem worried," Odin whispered causing Frigga to grip his hands even tighter making him internally cringe. "Frigga, it's all right."

"I thought you were dead… It is bad enough that your mother and father are gone now, but… But I don't think I could lose you," Frigga replied. He raised her gaze up to his, watching as her green eyes became teary. "I grew up with you and you are my dearest friend."

"I promise you I won't die," Odin gave her a smile and she returned it. "But I want you to not worry so much."

"Odin, you cannot honestly believe that I won't worry."

The prince watched her intently, and slowly she gave him a nod. It was more a regretful nod than one of agreement. Ever so gently, he pulled her into him and let her rest her head against his chest. She relaxed in his grip and he rested his chin on her head. "I beg of you, please do not worry, Frigga."

He felt a strange heat spread across his skin when she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. "I will not worry, so long as you come back."

He took a deep breath, whispering into her hair that he would come back. The Easterlings had taken so much, and he understood Frigga's worry. They hadn't found Tyr, and Balder was too much of a flirt to care about her, and that left Frigga with him. This woman had been a part of his life, and he would not deny that he cared for her, but would not openly admit it. No, he would not openly admit his great love for her. He understood why his father cherished his mother so much. The love of a woman was a comfort, yet an oddity all at the same time. Well, possibly the latter didn't apply to his parents anymore… His heart gave out a twang of pain that reminded him that they were gone.

"Frigga, did my mother have another one of these pendants?" He asked as he withdrew the white stone pendant from his armor. Frigga sat back, observing the pendant closely and her eyes narrowed.

"I've seen another in the king's study, why?" Frigga replied softly. He stood and she rose with him. There was a thought that began plaguing him when he had thought about his parents. Thranduil had told him once there the necklace had a twin. He started off towards his father's study with Frigga following him. He had not been in his father's study since he was little, but remembered the pathway through the higher levels to the door. He approached the door, pressing his hand against the cool handle. He pushed open the door to find the room cold and darker than pitch. "Odin, what are you doing?"

"There's a twin, Frigga," Odin said as he tumbled around in the dark for something to grab onto. He heard her sigh shortly and suddenly a candle's light illuminated the room. Lines of bookshelves stood sentinel along the walls of the room and something caught his eyes as they flicked around the room; something shiny. On the mantle sat a blonde wood box engraved with a leaf. A silver latch held the lid shut and temptation got the better of him, causing his fingers to start to pry open the box. The metal was cold, but the latch popped open after much struggle. The box was old, causing the latch to be rather stubborn to open. Lying in a pool of red velvet, sat an exact copy of his father's white stone pendant. Frigga came to his side, looking at the pendant closely. "Thranduil was right…"

"There were two?"

Odin nodded and gently picked up the necklace and felt his breath slip away. He wondered why his father would hide such a gift. He flicked his gaze over to Frigga and then at the pendant. "Frigga, look at me."

She turned her attention to him and he tucked away his father's necklace before setting the candle aside making her look up at him with a bit of pink on her cheeks. He unhooked the latch that held the necklace and then gave her a small smile. She swept her hair to the side allowing him to slip the necklace around her neck and latch it back together. Her fingers brushed over the pendant lightly before glancing back up at him.

"I can't have this," Frigga whispered.

Odin smiled as he clutched his father's necklace. "I am the king of this realm, and I think you should keep it," He brushed away one long curl and she shrunk away from him. "And it fits you quite well, Frigga."

He looked away from her and then closed the box. He felt Frigga's hand close around his wrist and felt her kiss his cheek lightly before slipping away. She whispered her thanks in his ear, but could barely hear over the beating of his heart. He could have sworn that the whole kingdom could hear it; it beat so loud that the typical noise from below was blocked out. He tried to speak, but it came out gibberish and he shook his head. He dared not try to walk anywhere, so he stayed in the study trying to regain himself. He silently cursed his heart as he attempted to walk, but his legs would not even attempt such a feat, making him land face first on the ground. That's it, he thought, I'll just lay here.

Odin lay on the floor for a while, slowly inching his way towards the door. His heart had calmed down, but his body was still not in its right mind. He heard footsteps coming up the steps, Kili's in fact. Kili was humming a song, but stopped when he spied Odin lying on the ground like a dead animal.

"Are you dead?" Kili whispered, poking his cousin's forehead. Odin's eyes snapped open making Kili jump back. "What in the world has gotten into you?"

"A girl," Odin murmured. Slowly a wicked smile passed across Kili's face. "Don't. You. Start," He was pointing at Kili each time he spoke the words and Kili snickered.

"Odin has a girlfriend," Kili sang. That warranted Odin to sit up with an agitated fire in his eyes and he pounced on Kili, who was laughing like a madman. "Who is it? Tell me, I wanna know." Odin narrowed his eyes at Kili, who was too busy laughing to pay any attention. He sat on Kili's chest, playing with the pendant subconsciously. Kili pushed him off of him and wrapped an arm around his cousin's shoulders after he gained control of his immature outburst. "Come on, I won't tell anyone."

"Yes you will," Odin drawled.

Kili let out a humorless laugh, "Ok, yes I will, but still tell me."

"Frigga," Odin answered.

Kili blinked, thinking about her for a moment. "It was only a matter of time."

"Was not!"

"Was too, and don't try to deny the fact that you've been acting like a moonstruck calf over her."

"What do you know about love?"

"A lot actually, considering the fact that I was around when your parents were getting to know each other. Thankfully, you don't have the same type of relationship as they did, because then I might have to slap some sense into you."

Odin rolled his eyes, and then hid his face in his elbows. "I hate you."

"I love you too, squirt."

"I am not short I am actually taller than you!"

"Ok, yes, thank your elven blood for that, but other than that you are as much a dwarf as I am." Odin attempted to contradict him but shut his mouth before he got into a banter fight with his cousin. Kili ruffled his hair playfully. "That's what I thought."

Odin slipped Kili's arm off of him and he stood, now in control of his limbs. "What were my parents like before Erebor came to be like this?"

"Your father hated your mother until Mirkwood, and then something kinda snapped. We still don't know what possessed him to choose an elf really. It was kind of odd because of his hatred for your mother's race. I wish I could ask him what made him choose your mother," Kili stood rolling his shoulders back. "Are you staying up to wait for Sol?"

"Depends, I can't seem to bring myself to sleep."

"Understandable," Kili patted his shoulder. "If you need me for anything just come and find me, all right?"

"Thanks, Kili."

Kili gave him a smile, "I've watched you grow up all of your life. I don't like seeing you in pain, never have, never will. Death is hard, I'll say that much."

Odin chuckled, "Someone's been listening to Freya ramble on, I see."

"Be quiet, you."

His cousin disappeared down a series of steps leaving Odin to stare into the darkness of his father's study. He felt the necklace around his neck become heavy; or rather his mind was telling him it was deathly heavy. It was the last bit of his father that he hung onto along with Orcrist. But his father's sword did not mean as much to him as the necklace did. Odin started off towards his room, and when he opened his door he found Fenrir stretched out on his bed taking up the entire space. He couldn't believe that his dog was sleeping on his bed…

"Fenrir," Odin said sharply. Fenrir lifted his head, his eyes half open and his tail wagging weakly. Odin started removing his armor piece by piece, and his hands halted over Orcrist. "Come here, boy."

The hound leapt off of his master's bed and came up to his master and sat. Odin slipped Orcrist out of his belt and handed it to Fenrir. The hound took it and placed it on the end table, then returned to Odin. The prince smiled, giving his dog a small pat on the head. At least he still had Fenrir, his aunt, and Kili left. He honestly did not wish for his parents and older cousin to leave this world in such a cruel manner, but that was how war functioned he guessed. Sleep did not come to him, nor could he force himself down. He was stuck in a strange place in between grief and hope. He did not know where the latter came from, but a small section of his mind told him that everything would be fine.

He felt Fenrir's soft head beneath his hand making his gaze fall on his hound. He kneeled down and took Fenrir's face, placing a light kiss on his dog's head. Fenrir let out a whine and licked Odin's face gently as if he understood his master's pain.

"I'm glad you understand, Fenrir," Odin whispered. He shut his eyes, touching his forehead to Fenrir's with his heart shuddering in his chest in sorrow. Slowly, Odin slipped his arms around Fenrir's neck and all of his pent up sadness fell through his mind's walls and tears slipped free. "At least you understand how foolish this is."

Tauriel sat perched like a agile cat in the trees observing the black depths of her forest. The halls of her lord were running wild after Sauron had attacked a few days ago. The battle had been won by the elves with light casualties. In the sky above her, she heard a loud squawk making her snap her gaze upward. Above her was a raven, moreover a raven from Erebor and such a bird made her heart about stop. She clambered up the tree's branches and whistled for the raven.

The raven landed on her forearm, sticking out its leg for her. A small note was attached to his leg and Tauriel removed it, reading its contents. It was from Coruwen's son, Odin, current King under the Mountain. Tauriel paused and read the title again. Had Tauriel not been perched securely in the tree, she would have dropped out of said tree in an instant upon reading the message; Coruwen, Thorin, Brand, Dain, Fili, and Bard were slain in battle.

The Captain of the Guard dropped out of the tree, running back into the halls of the Elvenking pushing past healers and soldiers, trying to find Thranduil. She found the Elvenking in his study with Himon, both of whom looked at her and asked why she left her post.

"This… This came," Tauriel panted as she handed the note to Himon. Himon, being the temperamental ellon he was, started to tighten his hands into fist, crunching the letter. Thranduil snatched the letter from his general and Tauriel could have sworn that she saw his green eyes flash with wrath. He folded the letter up neatly, setting it on his desk. The king came around his desk and took her shoulders. "My lord?"

"I need you to find as many guards that are able to fight, Tauriel. Tell them to head to the exit of Mirkwood, I will be joining you when I find one of my advisors," Thranduil ordered, releasing her and starting out of his study with Himon blinking in mild shock. Tauriel looked at him and then at the hallway.

"Together?" Tauriel inquired, sweeping a hand through her red hair.

"I think that will be in best interest. I don't think I've ever seen him this livid," Himon replied as he passed her with is green cloak billowing behind him. "Come on, Tauriel!

Tauriel whirled around and ran after Himon with her mind wandering to the Elvenking. Himon was right; the Elvenking was a calm and cunning man, never overstepping his emotional boundaries. This news only worsened his all ready growing anger. Sauron had caused great stress on him, but with the death of the elleth he considered his daughter; the boundaries that existed in the Elvenking's mind were released. The elleth worried for the kingdom of Erebor and how they must be coping with loss of so many lives.

A/N: Can you guys believe that there are only a few chapters left? I know I can't. Technically, Odin is now King but he is just in a tad bit of denial. I also felt like you guys needed some cute moments because lately, its been rather depressing.

Please review and tell me what you think. :)