Sorry this is late ya'll. Life was crazy busy this past week.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Middle Earth or it's characters.
Ch 20: Long forgotten gold
Fíli gripped his paddle a little harder as Kíli re-adjusted and made the boat rocked wildly. They were almost across the lake. If he looked back, Fíli could still make out the smoking ruins of Lake Town in the distance. As they day wore on, Fíli was having a harder and harder time pushing down the anxiety that kept bubbling up. They had no idea what they were walking into or if anyone was alive. If no one was left live, that would mean that he would become king and-
He shook his head trying to rid himself of the grim thoughts pressing in. Fíli grunted in pain when he accidently overextended his arms, pulling on his tender chest. Kíli heard his brother's groan and turned around, causing the boat to rock wildly once more.
"Your ribs ok Fee?" he asked, oblivious to the fact that the water sloshing around their feet had come into the boat from his quick, jerky actions.
"My ribs are fine, thank you very much. I'm more worried about your leg. Do you think you'll be able to make it up the mountain? It looks quiet steep," Fíli pointed out skeptically.
"Pfff. Easy. I'll be fine, you'll see," Kíli responded, easily grinning. Fíli just rolled his eyes. Kíli's leg had indeed healed some, but walk on it still hurt him. Fíli could tell based on the color of his face and the way he bit his lip. But Kíli refused to stop when they offered to rest. The first snow of winter was melting slightly and made the ground slippery. Two grueling hours later, they had nearly made it to the ruins of Dale. Kíli was dragging behind, complaining with every step.
"So, this is what it feels like to walk around with an injured leg? How does Fíli live with it? I feel like my leg is going to fall off," Kíli moped to Oin for what felt like the hundredth time to the older Dwarf.
"If you complain one more time, I am going to toss you off that cliff. Your brother's leg was injured thirty years ago. You've complained more in the past ten minutes than he has since he was injured. Now stop your griping or we'll leave you here," Oin declared, at the end of his rope.
"We can take a break if my baby brother can't possibly handle the pain anymore," Fíli teased having overheard the conversation. Kíli stiffened and his cheeks turned a bright red at the obvious attack on his pride. Bofur and Fíli snickered at Kíli's discomfort, that is until Kíli lobed some snow balls in their direction, hitting Bofur in the face and sending snow down the back of Fíli's tunic.
They finally crested the last hill. The great gates yawned in front of them, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain. The four Dwarfs cautiously ventured inside, unsure of what they would find. The damage from the dragon was clearly visible: pillars lay smashed on the broken flagstones that once made the floor. Dust and smoke hung thick in the air.
"Hello?" Kíli's call made them all jump. It echoed around the dark, returning unanswered. They slowly ventured farther into the maze of chambers, winding their way around piles of rubble. Despite the ravages of time, they were some of the most impressive stone work that Fíli had ever seen. They were passing a set of rooms and passages which Oin said had once housed the royal guard when they heard the muted footsteps. The figure that came into view was not who they were expecting.
"Fíli? Kíli? You have to leave. Go now while you still can," Bilbo's face was fully of an odd mixture of concern, anger and despair.
"Go? But we only just got here," Bofur echoed the hobbit's words in confusion.
"Yes, leave now before-"
"What about Thorin? Is my uncle still alive?" Fíli demanded. Bilbo's composed face crumpled slightly into a look of sorrow.
"He is alive," Bilbo put a hand on Fíli's chest to stop him from running off in search of Thorin, "But he's changed. He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat. He just wanders around the treasury looking for the Arkenstone. I think it's this place, it's driving him mad…"
Fíli felt a cold hand grab his heart. He tore himself free of the hobbit and dashed off as quick as he could ignoring Bilbo's calls for him to come back.
Several sets of stairs later led Fíli to one of the most incredible sights in his young life. The passage opened up into a great chamber, larger than any they had yet passed through. The room was full of treasure. Fíli had never seen so much gold in one place. On top of one of the mounts of treasure stood Thorin looking down at his wealth.
"Search the whole hall. It has to be here somewhere," Thorin bellowed at the other Dwarfs scattered around the room.
Fíli heard hurrying footsteps behind him as the others arrived. Thorin heard their arrival and turned his gaze up to them. There was something in Thorin's dark eyes that made Fíli uncomfortable. He felt like he was looking into the eyes of a rabid beast, ready to strike. Then Thorin's gaze soften slightly as he regarded his nephew.
"Welcome, my sister's sons to the halls of our ancestors. Come, join in our search," Thorin's tone broke no argument. As they made their way over to Thorin, Fíli couldn't help but think that this was not the Thorin that Fíli knew and loved. This was a cold and heartless replica that took no concern in the wellbeing of others. It was too late to go back now. Fíli and Kíli exchanged a glance of dread.
A week later and they had found no sign of the Arkenstone. Fíli was personally wondering if it was even in the treasury at all. Thorin grew more paranoid with every passing day. He rarely talked to anyone, save to shout at them to work harder. Thorin's mood was made only fouler when the people of Lake Town moved into the ruins of Dale, followed shortly by a host of Elves from Mirkwood.
Thorin had his small company erect a barricade where the front gates had once stood. The next day Bard rode up to the gates. The Company gathered behind Thorin on wall to watch the exchange.
"Stay where you are," Thorin told him. Bard stopped his horse and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Why do you hide behind walls of stone like a thief hording his ill-gotten gains, Thorin, King under the Mountain?" Bard called up to them.
"Because an army sits at my doorstep."
"I see no army, save what few soldiers King Thranduil brought to protect us with. Most of those people are women and children who have nothing thanks to the dragon that you let loose on Lake Town."
"I see little difference," Thorin snarled back. Bard sighed.
"I came on behalf of the people of Lake Town, I have come to request aid in rebuilding our livelihoods. You promised us a portion of the treasure in the mountains. May I point out that we did more than our fair share in helping you, considering that it was I who slew the dragon that you failed to take care of."
"Whether or not you slew the dragon matters little to me. I will not part with any of the treasure in this mountain, not a single piece."
"You gave your word. Does that mean nothing to you?" Bard asked.
"Watch your tongue, bargeman! You do not know of what you speak. Be gone, ere our arrows fly!" Thorin threatened, grabbing Kíli's bow out of his hand and nocking an arrow to the string. Bard shook his head, but rode off with a clatter of hooves. Fíli felt disgusted at Thorin's rude and unethical rejection to help the very people who had helped them. Looking around, Fíli saw that he was not the only one who felt that way. Thorin noticed them staring.
"Back to work, all of you. Find the Arkenstone!" he bellowed. They all took off in fright. Fíli hadn't gotten far when he noticed that Thorin had followed him.
"Fíli, a word," Thorin indicated a door off to their right. Fíli followed his uncle, wondering what he wanted. The room they entered had once been the throne room. At the far end sat a stone throne, the top half smashed to bits. Without warning, Thorin turned on him. He grabbed Fíli's coat with both hands before Fíli could figure out what was wrong.
"Where is it?" Thorin roared, shaking he nephew.
"Where is what?" Fíli asked, mystified.
"The Arkenstone. I know you have it. Ever since you were young you've wanted to be king and now you see your chance. You've taken the Arkenstone. SO WHERE IS IT?!" Thorin leaned into Fíli's face, spit flying on to Fíli's cheeks. Fíli tried to take an involuntary step backwards, but Thorin's grip on his coat prevented him from doing so.
"I don't have it nor do I know where it is," Fíli spluttered, shocked at his uncle's anger. Never before had Thorin raised his voice like that to either of his newphews
"Lies! You stole it from me! I should've known better than to bring you. You were just biding your time until you saw an opportunity to seize the throne from me. You will never be king under the mountain! I disown you! In front of Mahal and Durin himself, I disown you! You are no longer my heir, you crippled half-breed. Your brother shall have your place. He, at least, is loyal to me and fit of body. You were always weak and quiet, choosing to read and daydream instead of focusing on more important matters. You are useless," Thorin's furious blue eyes bored into Fíli, "Return the stone to me and I will be merciful and allow you to leave this place in exile. You have one hour. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."
Thorin threw Fíli to the ground before turning back to the broken throne. Fíli stood up as quickly as he could and stumbled from the hall in denial. He shoved past Balin, Dwalin and Kíli, who had been just outside the room and heard the whole exchange. They called for him to stop, but he ignored them, running to somewhere he could find solitude: the forges.
His heart stung from the cruel words Thorin had snarled in his face. For years Fíli had struggled with his self-confidence. At his lowest points, Thorin had always been there for him. Now his uncle had gone done the one thing he always said he would never do: disown Fíli. The bitter betrayal left him questioning everything Thorin had ever told him and made him wonder what he had done to lose his uncle's love.
Fíli finally reached his destination. The Forges were silent. No one was there. They were all down in the treasury looking for the accursed Arkenstone. At the far end of the Forges, Fíli's bad leg tripped on something and sent him sprawling. He slowly pulled himself into a seated position before he broke down in tears. He balled his hands into fists as quiet sobs racked his body.
"Fíli?" asked a small voice from the shadows. Fíli jumped several feet in surprise. There, standing behind him was Bilbo. Fíli hastily wiped tears off of his face, but it didn't make much of a difference as they kept falling. Bilbo came and sat next to Fíli. He reached out to awkwardly patted Fíli's arm before pulling the blond Dwarf into a comforting hug. Fíli distantly knew he should be ashamed of crying like a Dwarfling into the Hobbit's shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Eventually Fíli's sobbing subsided and he reluctantly pulled out of the embrace. Bilbo's face was full of concern.
"I… uh… I heard what you uncle said about you… and... I want you to know that I may not be a master in Dwarven politics, a warrior or even a real burglar, but I can tell you for certain that none of what he said was true. Fíli, son of Dís, you are one of the bravest, kindest and most loyal dwarfs I have ever met. Don't think for a moment that your injury or your quiet disposition make you any less qualified to be Thorin's heir. Thorin still loves you dearly, he just can't see it right now," Bilbo pulled Fíli back into a hug. Fíli appreciated the hobbit's kind words, but deep down he worried that maybe Thorin was right. Maybe he really was what his uncle said he was: a cripple half-breed with no use to anyone.