Hello all, sorry for the long wait. Thank you for the support you have shown me during my time of mourning. You have all be great. I hope this chapter is ok. I haven't written anything since the last chapter so it might be a bit all over the place, so I apologise in advance. Much love to you all!
0.0.0
Anya stormed into the darkness, full of rage and grief and sort out the one whom her heart once pined for. The love she felt for the Dwarf king was ever diminishing with every hour that ticked by. The loss of her son pained her and stirred her onward to a ruffling noise in the near blackness of the Dwarven city. "Thorin Oakenshield, reveal yourself!" Anya near enough screamed into the darkness. A thud was heard and Anya presumed that she caused the Dwarf to jump in fright and fall to the floor. Hearing him scramble to his feet, Anya clenched her fists.
"Anya is that truly you..." Thorin spoke with hope in his voice and quickly appeared into her line of sight. "… I feared that you would never return… that I had sent you to your death. I shall never forgive myself for my actions towards you and our child. I pray that you and Mahal both will forgive me for my evil actions… Anya, why do you not speak?" Anya thundered toward the king in his mountain and with a mighty strength she thrust her fist into the dwarf's cheek. Thorin gasped at the force and the pain and stumbled back. He did not react. Thorin knew it was what he deserved. He thought to himself that he even deserved death for allowing the gold sickness take over continually. He would never be free of it, deep down, he knew that. "… I am sorry my love, I…"
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Anya shouted, eyes brimming with tears, pointing the finger at the royal male.
"What, what is it?"
"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME LOVE, DON'T YOU DARE APOLOGISE; YOU DON'T DESERVE MY FOGIVENESS"
"Anya, please, you are frightening me" Thorin admitted and approached his love, ignoring the stinging in his cheek. He reached out a hand to comfort the woman, but instead she stepped back, away from the dwarf and tripped over a scattered rock, falling to the floor. As she sat on the stone floor, rubbing her thighs, she cried a heart wrenching cry. Thorin dropped to his knees and grabbed the woman, and to his surprise, Anya fisted his tunic with some force and pulled herself against him, sobbing into his clothed chest; her body shuddering with emotion.
"He's gone…" Anya whispered; her voice muffled and coarse in between hard whimpers. Thorin's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of her words and thought hard. He did not want to question her; he did not want to upset her even more. Then it came rushing into his mind like a river bursting through the flood gates. He recalled Anya speaking of their son, wanting to give him at least a day off sunlight and fresh air instead of being locked up in this dark and damp form of a dungeon. Thorin could only come to one conclusion and as swift as a bird, he pushed Anya from him and turned to the floor, vomiting up the contents of his stomach. Anya felt a slight pull of her heartstrings as she witnessed before her, true regret, true pain and the true love he had for his son. After he finished emptying the contents of his stomach, Thorin let out an uncharacteristic wail of grief.
"Until my dying days, never will the blood of my son be lifted from my shoulders; nor shall I wish it to be. This is what has been dealt to me for my recklessness and desire for something inanimate, something that will come and go. And now, because of my selfishness, you my love are faced with the aftermath; an aftermath of despair and of loss for the babe you once carried in your womb. I ask not your forgiveness, nor do I expect you to remain with me. I do not have enough words, enough time on this earth to utter to you my most sincere apologies, my biggest regret and my grief. I am not worthy to be in your presence, nor am I worthy of your love. If it is your wish to return to your world, then I will respect it to the fullest." Thorin spoke in the darkness, unaware that the company had come close, with fear in their hearts on hearing their king cry out. They had heard their king's speech and all allowed a tear to trickle down their cheeks.
"I need time…" Anya whispered to the Dwarf king, having finally calmed down after listening to Thorin's soul crushing speech. "… I need to think things through. I need… I don't know what I need…"
"You don't need me, that is something to be sure of Anya. I cause too much pain…" Thorin coarsely replied, looking over at the woman as he scrambled back onto his feet.
"That is not for you to decide; I am the hurt party in this, I am the one who has suffered most, not just from the death of my first child, but of what turmoil I have faced because of your gold sickness. I shall be the one to decide whether I need you or not; not you" Anya spoke and also stood to her feet. Thorin's eyes filled with hope on hearing his love speak; there was no certainty that she would forgive him, that she would love him as she once did, but he took comfort in the knowledge that as of that moment, she had not decided their fate; she might still possess love and forgiveness in her heart.
"I completely understand. I shall respect what you have said and I will give you space…" Thorin said solemnly. Anya nodded in agreement and began to walk away. Just before she passed him, Thorin reached out and grabbed her wrist and looked into her questioning eyes. "I am so, so terribly sorry" he spoke and freed her from his grasp. Anya walked past the watching company and walked towards the main hall of the kingdom to the front gates. Thorin shook his head with sorrow and followed in suit, ignoring the watching eyes of his company.
.
"Open up, I wish to speak with the King!" A voice called out, echoing amongst the silent company. Tauriel shot to her feet and climbed the pile of rock underneath the open window and looked out into the open.
"Who calls to us?" Balin inquired of the she elf.
"A man of Lake Town; Bard is his name" Tauriel replied, slightly concerned at the presence of several elven escorts behind the man.
"Ask him what he wants" Fili called up and Tauriel complied.
"The Dragon, Smaug; he is dead!" Bard called up.
"Surely that is good news; so why do you have sorrow in your eyes?" Tauriel answered, not needing to tell the others what the man had said for he had spoken loud enough for all to hear.
"Why am I sorrowful? That beast destroyed Lake Town that is why!" Bard called back and Bilbo felt sorrow creep into his heart for he had grown fond of the realm of men when they had ventured there.
"I am sorry for your loss, Bard" Tauriel replied, her tone melancholy.
"I have come to ask also, that the king under the mountain will be merciful to us and show us kindness as we have in the past, shown kindness to you… we ask for a share of the treasure to rebuild our homes, our livelihood…" Bard responded, taking a step forward to show his eagerness. Thorin's eyes shot wide open and made his way over to the she elf to look out at the man asking for his treasure.
"You shall have no claim over what is in this kingdom. What happened to your town was truly terrible, but were I to give you what you ask, you would keep coming back, wanting more. No" Thorin responded and Bard frowned, as did the elves behind him.
"I will give you time to reconsider this" Bard seethed at the king under the mountain and turned his back, marching back with the elves toward what appeared to be a large gathering of men and elves encamped outside the kingdom.
"I believe King Thranduil is here; that is his army" Tauriel spoke to Thorin before both descended down the rubble.
"I am not threatened by that pompous king" Thorin snarled and walked towards his company.
.0
That night when all slept, Bilbo looked about in the dark with a great secret. He had lied to Thorin. To the whole company; he was in position of the Kings jewel. The Arkenstone… standing to his feet with a plan in mind, thinking of everything that would prevent the oncoming war with the Elves, Bilbo took a deep breath, then walked so quietly to the pile of rubble and out to the camp. He must do something to prevent this war, he thought. He must give the stone to the elven king.
