Alright, let's hear it for chapter 14 and the end of DOS! It also might be the end of movie-accurate quotes, seeing as BOFTA isn't out on DVD just yet, unless I can find the transcript online. If I can't, I'll do my best to recreate it from memory. Anyway, thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all the reviews. It's your feedback and my obsessive nature that keeps this train rolling!
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Tolkien, you own you!
You try to net a few hours of sleep, for you know that the next twenty-four ahead will be brutal. It's hard to calm down enough to do so, but Thorin's determination to never even succumb to gold sickness is enough of a comfort to take a bit of the load off your mind.
Bilbo notices your fatigue the next morning. "Are you alright?" he asks, kind as ever.
"Oh, don't worry about me. Your big moment is coming up."
He makes a face. "You needn't remind me."
"Don't worry. You'll be brilliant." You pat him on the shoulder. He doesn't look very encouraged.
The Master gives the company a glamorous send-off, complete with new clothes, weapons, and a boat. The townspeople cheer as you load onto the boat.
"Not you," Thorin says, blocking Kili. "We must travel at speed. You will slow us down."
"What are you talking about? I'm coming with you." Kili smiles like he thinks - hopes - it's a joke.
"Not now."
"I'm going to be there when that door is opened! When we first look upon the Halls of our Fathers! Thorin - "
And Thorin melts into kindness like he is prone to do when confronted with his nephews. "Kili, stay here. Rest. Join us when you're healed."
Oin volunteers to watch after Kili, but Kili is inconsolable. You sit by him briefly and take his hand. "It's important you stay," you say soothingly to him.
"But I can do it, I can make the trip - "
"Kili, don't you trust me?"
Those sad brown eyes bore desperately into yours, and he nods in defeat. "How can I not?"
"Good." You lean in closer and whisper, "Tauriel will come for you."
"What? Tauriel - ?"
You jump up, leaving Kili with that silver lining. By this time Fili has also elected to stay behind; his fair face is creased with worry for his younger brother. "You said he would be fine," he mumbles, looking over your shoulder at Kili.
"He will be. It's good you're staying with him. He'll need you."
"Then I will be here."
"I'll see all of you in Erebor tomorrow evening, I promise."
"Aniel, come on!" Thorin barks.
You give Fili an encouraging smile and board the boat. The band strikes up a jolly, slightly off-key tune, and slowly the wooden town on the lake is enveloped in mist. The fog all around creates an eerie, lonely atmosphere that makes you draw into yourself. To break the silence, you murmur softly, "Home is behind, the world ahead..."
"What was that?" Bilbo inquires. Several other heads turn in curiosity.
"Just a song I was thinking of."
"Let's have it, then," Balin invites. "A bit of song might shake this drear."
You sing the whole of the song you know so well. Even Thorin's head tilts slightly to listen. They're quiet after the last note dissipates over the small waves. You're not sure if it did any good; though the song spoke of fading mists and shadows, your bones are still weighed down by the melancholy weather. Then again, that might just be a by-product of the fears still lurking in your heart.
The boat scrapes against the gravel shore. You look up and up and up to the peak of the Lonely Mountain. In better weather it would be a grand, inspiring sight; currently it is an imposing peak against a cold sky. You stare at it for most of the walk, contemplating Smaug and gold and politics, until a new sight catches your eye.
"What is this place?" asks Bilbo, voice appropriately quiet.
Balin answers, "It was once the city of Dale. Now it is a ruin - the desolation of Smaug."
You would have smiled - you love it when they say movie titles during the movie - but this is not a movie and you're in no mood for amusement. The once proud city of Dale stands silent and empty, a ghost in and of itself. Oddly, it gives you hope, even if it's just an ember. You fancy Dale restored and bustling with life once more as the former residents of Lake Town rebuild their lives there. That would mean all went well with the events to come.
"Come," Thorin murmurs to you. You shake off the reverie and start walking.
"Wait," Bilbo says. "Is this the Overlook? Gandalf said to meet him here."
"He's busy," you say almost absently. "He won't make it. We're on our own."
"But he said on no account were we to enter the Mountain without him - "
You finally come all the way out of the clouds and smile at Bilbo. "We did well enough in Mirkwood, didn't we? Or you did, I should say. Gandalf will be along later, but right now your moment of glory awaits."
"Glory," he grumbles. "For all your talk, I had better come out in a golden cart drawn by silver horses!"
"Well, you'll never know unless we get there!"
You mill around until Bilbo points out the stairs; you didn't want to steal his thunder there, because you would do it at the door. You and Bilbo form a team to tackle the Dwarves of olds' ridiculous idea of "stairs". You help him across the larger gaps, and in return he keeps you from looking down at the death drop below. It's an exhausting and nerve-wracking climb, but at last you reach solid ground once more.
"This must be it. The hidden door." Thorin pulls out the key. "Let all those who doubted us rue this day!"
Your heart is constricted with emotion at Thorin's victory - small in the grand scheme of things, but huge for him. He's so proud and majestic in the dying light of the last day of autumn. You have the urge to hug him like you had at Lake Town.
"The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole..." Thorin mutters, surveying the blank expanse of rock.
"Give it a minute," you say. "The last light is the moon, not the sunset." You felt it necessary to point this out, for it would be cruel to make him suffer needless heartbreak.
"You're sure? This is our only chance..."
You respond with a look, and he nods curtly.
The company collectively holds its breath when the sun sinks completely below the horizon. Even you become impatient, tapping your toe as you wait for the clouds to reveal the moon. Finally, finally, the silver light of the first moon of winter splays across the sheer rock face, illuminating the key-hole. No one speaks as Thorin slips the key into its home. A deep lock clicks. Thorin presses against the rock, and a square slab of stone gives way, opening Erebor for the first time in decades.
Thorin steps over the threshold and runs his fingers over the smooth walls of his home. "Erebor," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I know these walls. These halls. This stone. You remember it, Balin. Chambers filled with golden light..."
"I remember," Balin says gruffly. You figure it's okay for you to cry since he's long gone.
The company files into the corridor with the reverence of entering a sanctuary. There's a picture carved above the door. You mouth the words along with Gloin: "'Herein lies the Seventh Kingdom of Durin's Folk. May the Heart of the Mountain unite all Dwarves in defense of this home.'"
"And what's that above the throne?" Bilbo asks.
"The Arkenstone," Balin says, awed.
"Arkenstone. And what's that?"
"That, Master Burglar, is why you are here," Thorin says.
"Ah-huh. Well. I supposed I'd better get to it, then..." Bilbo swallows hard and glances at you. You smile reassuringly and hope your confidence is of some encouragement.
Balin escorts Bilbo further down the hall. You admire the smoothness of the stone with your fingertips more than your eyes, since the corridor is rather dark.
Thorin moves to stand by you. "Why are you crying?" he asks in a low voice.
"Because I'm happy. We're finally here. You're finally home."
He shakes his head. "I still do not understand your heart."
"Maybe one day you will. But presently, we've got a dragon to deal with."
"Bilbo shouldn't waken it, if he is as light on his feet as Gandalf claimed."
"I've already told you, he will wake Smaug."
"You could be wrong."
"Wrong!" you exclaim indignantly. Your voice echoes down the hall.
"Oh, keep your voice down."
"Wrong," you grumble. "Would you like to bet on that?"
Thorin casts you an amused look. "I am not a fool."
"Too bad. I could've gotten a nice stash of gold to furnish my apartment."
"You really want to stay here, then?"
"Didn't we already establish that?"
"I suppose I'm just surprised. You could go anywhere in Middle Earth, but you would choose to stay here."
"That's because this place has one thing even the finest hall lacks. Can you guess?"
"I could not guess even one of your thoughts."
"The stubborn, stubborn Dwarf I pledged my undying allegiance to."
"So it is true," he muses. "You would follow me until the end."
"Don't sound so surprised. I promised I would."
"You have promised many things, and each of them you have kept. I am...glad to have you with me, especially now."
"Coming from you, that means more than I can say."
Thorin fully grins. The sight is more stunning a meteor shower. "You put too much store in me," he chuckles.
"Probably," you say easily, reclining against a stone to wait for the fireworks. "But you've earned it."
As quickly as it came, the grin fades. "I should like to continue earning your good faith," he murmurs.
Your stomach drops unpleasantly at the indirect mention of things to come. "Don't talk about it," you beg. "It's already eating away at me. I need someone to be optimistic."
"Then you are out of luck, because I was relying on you to look on the bright side."
"We should both look on the bright side," you say firmly. "I'll believe that you'll try your hardest to resist and you trust that I only have your best interests at heart and everything will be fine."
"It is hard for me to trust, but I do trust you. After everything, it is impossible not to."
"And after everything, I know that once you set your mind to something, nothing can stop you."
"A kinder way of calling me stubborn?"
"I'd go with determined over stubborn, but only in this one instance."
The banter has improved your mood enough to chase the clouds of uncertainty away for a while. You admire the slopes of the mountain under the silvery light of the moon. When you imagine doing the same once Erebor is rebuilt and danger has passed, you feel almost calm.
"What are you thinking?" Thorin asks quietly.
"About the future," you respond softly. "The near future, even though it seems far away. You've given me hope enough to be excited. I can't wait to see Erebor returned to glory, Dale rebuilt, and you as rightful king."
"And do you think I will make a good king?"
You look at him fondly. "I think you will make a great king. I would go so far as to say legendary."
"Legendary! Now you're teasing."
"I would never tease you! Okay, yes I would, but not over such a serious matter, my king."
Thorin falls silent at the honorific and gazes at you impassively. You feel his eyes on you long after you close yours for a nap.
A rumbling in the ground jolts you out of the twilight area of almost-sleep. For a split second you have no idea what's going on.
"Was that an earthquake?"
Balin shakes his head grimly. "That, my lad, was a dragon."
"Told you," you say to Thorin.
"Should we go in?" he asks.
"Nah, give him a bit more time."
"More time?" Balin looks at you. "Time to do what, be killed?"
"Bilbo is fine. But if we go in too soon, we might be extra crispy."
You gauge it the best you can without knowing what's going on in Lake Town as reference. Thorin leads the way through the memorized corridors. The dark hall finally opens up into a vast room, the floor of which is feet-deep gold. You gasp in spite of yourself. You cannot begin to fathom the wealth, not in standards of your world or this one.
The pitter-patter of bare feet nears, and Bilbo comes huffing around the corner. You beam at him.
"You're alive!" Thorin seems shocked.
"Not for much longer!" Bilbo pants.
"Did you find the Arkenstone?"
"The dragon's coming."
"The dragon's coming," you repeat firmly, grabbing Thorin's shoulder. "Arkenstone later, survival now."
Thorin dithers, torn between the first tingle of gold sickness and wanting to do right by you. His hesitation allows Smaug to creep up in the distance. Your eyes widen when you see him, the embodiment of fire and death. You try to warn Thorin past the fear blocking your throat.
Thorin sees Smaug just in time; everyone leaps from the landing into the ocean of gold. Thorin takes the lead to the western guard room. You don't mind the slight detour. You would have told him to go straight for the forges, but you felt like this was the last time anything would go by the script again, and you wanted to give up control just once more.
The room is filled with mummified corpses in positions that reflect the terror of their final moments. Balin surveys the scene with sorrow. "That's it, then," he says heavily. "There's no way out. The last of our kin. They must have come here, hoping beyond hope... We could try to reach the mines. We might last a few days..."
"No," Thorin says ironly. "I will not die like this - cowering, clawing for breath. We make for the forges."
"He'll see us, sure as death," Dwalin protests.
"Not if we split up."
"Thorin...we'll never make it." Balin says hopelessly.
"Some of us might. Lead him to the forges. We kill the dragon. If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together."
His words are steel, and they light a fire in your chest. This is the Dwarf you swore to follow. Had you did not known how things would play out, you were still willing to burn with him.
The company splits into groups and takes turns distracting Smaug. It would be amusing if it weren't utterly terrifying, like bothering a giant cat with a laser pointer. Smaug does not find it funny either; he bellows a fireball just as you slide to safety. Thorin, only a little singed, urges the company on.
The forges of Erebor are a feat of engineering. While Dwalin and Balin worry about fire, you wonder where they ever did find fire hot or big enough to light them. Then you remember that Thorin is about to taunt a dragon -
"I did not look to see you so easily outwitted!" he shouts in a tone that certainly would have incensed you. "You have grown slow and fat in your dotage, slug!"
You rub your face. "Thorin, why do you - "
"Take cover!"
You squeal and run to hide behind a pillar. The fire blast is terrible, unbearable - the metal heats beneath your skin - and just when you feel you must burst into flames as well, the blast ceases. The forges draw a great breath after being cold for so long.
Thorin assigns tasks to the others. You'd forgotten that they all had jobs - you stare after them as they run to their stations, at a loss for what to do.
Thorin answers solves that problem for you. "Come with me," he shouts, grabbing your arm.
"Where are we going?"
"To distract the dragon! I could not leave you to your own devices."
"Oh, right, so naturally you bring me with you to stare down a flying inferno!"
Over the clanging of the failing gate and the forges' roar, you could swear you hear Thorin laugh.
Smaug breaks through the gate and slithers through the high-ceilinged chamber, looking for his prize. You cower behind Thorin when his gaze falls on the two of you. Smaug holds his attack. He tilts his head and stares at you. Then he rumbles a chuckle. "Well, well, an elf and a Dwarf. What an unlikely pair."
Thorin draws his sword.
"Tell me, elfling...did you expect to die tonight?"
The culmination of almost a year of living with Thorin's attitude comes out in two words: "Did you?"
Smaug's scales glow with internal fire. Thorin gives his cue, and Bilbo unleashes a flood that quenches the inferno temporarily.
While Smaug is distracted with the flash-flame, Thorin grabs your shoulders. "Go with Bilbo," he tells you. "Lead Smaug to the Gallery of Kings. I will meet you there!"
You nod and dodge the flailing dragon to reach Bilbo's position. Smaug's tail crashes into the raised platform, causing it to crumble. Bilbo rolls off safely. You help him up and the two of you run.
"I told you you'd do great!" you shout.
"Great?! If this was your expectation all along, I am insulted!"
"You shouldn't be - I think I'm the only one who even expected you to come back!"
Smaug bursts through the wall behind you, loosing the massive tapestries and covering you in a heavy heap of cloth. You and Bilbo crawl out from under the suffocating blanket to see Smaug, furious and great, in the moonlight coming through the front gate.
"You think you can deceive me, Barrel-rider?" he roars. "You have come from Lake-town! This is some sordid scheme hatched between these filthy Dwarves and those miserable tub-trading Lakemen! Those sniveling cowards with their long bows and Black Arrows! Perhaps it is time I paid them a visit!"
"Oh, no," Bilbo gasps. He runs towards Smaug before you can stop him and shouts, "This isn't their fault! Wait! You cannot go to Lake Town!"
"You care about them?" he almost purrs. "Good. Then you can watch them die!"
The voice you were waiting for echoes across the chamber. "Here! You witless worm!"
Smaug freezes. "You."
You and Bilbo run to watch the scene unfold. Thorin stands atop the great mold, completely fearless as he faces down Smaug.
"I am taking back what you stole."
"You will take nothing from me, Dwarf," Smaug hisses. "I laid low your warriors of old. I instilled terror in the hearts of Men. I am King Under the Mountain!"
"This is not your kingdom! These are Dwarf lands. This is Dwarf gold. And we will have our revenge!"
The mold explodes away, revealing the wondrous golden statue. Smaug is mesmerized. You pull Bilbo up out of the midway just in time for the molten gold to lose its shape and thunder down the hall in a burning yellow river. Smaug bellows in pain, for the temperature must be hot even for him. He disappears under the new lake. The Dwarves and Bilbo cheer, but you are already running towards the exit -
Smaug resurfaces, writhing with rage and hurt. "Revenge?! Revenge?!" he roars. "I will show you revenge!"
He barrels through the gate like it is nothing and soars off into the night, leaving a shower of cooled golden flakes in his wake. In the distance lies the unsuspecting Lake Town, its lights glimmering like a beacon to draw its doom.
Bilbo skids to a halt beside you. He takes in his awful scene and whispers, "What have we done?"
[muffled mmm whatcha say playing in the background]