Key
Long have I been tormented in this tiny, dark cell. No light, no company, little food and less drink. I can feel myself slowly going insane, my mind getting smaller and smaller as the dark closes in on me. Every day my fingertips absently trace the cool metal of the key; my key. In my hands I hold the only way to get into the mountain alive.
The dragon resides there now, yet I know that my son Thorin has my blood in him and it will not be long before he set out to take back what is rightfully ours. Alas, it will be for nothing, for he has not the key, he has not the map.
Suddenly light floods my prison and I shade my eyes from the terrible brightness. A bearded figure comes towards me and instinctively I hold out the map and key. 'Thorin… key… Erebor.'
My mind goes black, and I know no more.