Music Suggestion: Fear Not this Night by Asja and Jeremy Soule

Fear Not This Night

-March 27, 3019-

Odin lay against the furs with Fenrir curled up beside him with his head lying on his master's chest. His hand came up and rubbed Fenrir's plush ears as he cracked open his eyes. He had managed to actually get some sleep. He sat up, cradling Fenrir's head in his arms as the hound yawned with his pink tongue curling inward as his jaws opened wide. Odin smiled as he let Fenrir off of his bed. He watched his hound for a while, his nimble body arcing and his tail beginning to wag ever so slightly. He ran a hand across the base of his neck, his body slowly waking up. His door was cracked open and Odin heard Kili's voice through the crack.

"Kili," Odin stated. His cousin's head poked through the door, his dark brown hair mussed with the majority hanging in his eyes. Odin figured that he must've just woken up, for his apparel was skewed. "What's wrong?"

Kili shut his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Sol just got back," He replied. Odin approached his cousin as he entered the room with Fenrir starting to dance near his feet. The prince's concern reignited again upon hearing Kili's statement and his eyes never left his cousin. "Killed seventy two, left three poisoned."

"That's good!" Odin exclaimed with a smile on his face. Kili gave him a grave look and he shrunk back. There was more; there always was. He sat on his bed, hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His blues eye turned a dark shade of ocean blue and Kili gripped his cousin's shoulders tightly. "What did they find?"

"They found Fili," Kili muttered, his voice cracking under the force of the issue. Odin removed Kili's hand feeling the tremors within. "His throat was cut with a poisoned knife. Must've happened while they had him tied up." Kili's gold eyes darkened and they became glossy. "I don't understand… I-I thought they would've at least waited."

"Kili, it's not your fault," Odin comforted, trying to soothe his cousin's fear. Kili gave him a dark glare making him back up a bit. He could do nothing at this point in time; it was up to Kili to drag himself out of the mental ditch he was digging. "We'll have time to mourn later. We have a tribe of Easterlings to flush out in Dale. I suppose that will get your mind off of things," Odin saw Kili nod out of the corner of his eye and he started donning his armor. Under his breath, he whispered, "Or so I hope."

Fenrir joined his side once he had finished and grabbed Orcrist before leaving. All the way back to the throne room, Kili was silent, not making a single noise aside from the noise of his boots upon the stone. The halls themselves could have made someone deaf with the amount of people shouting orders mingled with the sounds of armor clanging. He pushed open the iron doors of the throne room to find Freya sitting behind the stone thrones with her long tail wrapped around a pillar. No light touched the room; in fact the room seemed bleak with a strange tension. The faces of his people were solemn, including Freya. As he approached her, he ran a hand across her scales with the hopes of lightening her spirits.

"Someone has come for you, Odin," Freya whispered as her amber gaze rose to the doors once more. She seemed rather trained on the person, or persons, coming through the doorway. He turned his gaze to follow hers, and spied Thranduil, Tauriel, and Himon in the doorway.

Thranduil was dressed in silver banded armor with ivy engraved upon the epilates and gauntlets. Two circular clasps held a dark green cloak on his shoulders. His silver-blonde hair was braided back on the sides and his face stern with his eyes catching an almost strange wrath within that Odin had never seen in him. He strode forward with Himon behind him and Tauriel after him.

Himon, the right hand of the Elvenking, wore similar armor to that of his lord but his cloak possessed a hood. His hair was coal black and loose around his shoulders. His eyes were a stormy cerulean and set into a chiseled face. At his hip was a steel sword with a pommel in the shape of a wild cat's head.

Finally, Tauriel stopped before Kili giving him a sad look that made him turn away instantly. Her auburn hair was in one long plait down her back and had great contrast to the dark green and brown armor she wore. On either side of her hips were two long knives with her gloved hands resting on one pommel.

Odin gave Thranduil a bow of his head, who returned it. The wrathful fire that had clouded the Elvenking's eyes seemed to fade when he looked upon Odin. The prince found it rather odd that Thranduil had come; or rather he was surprised that Thranduil came to him personally.

"I am sorry for the delay, Odin. We had a small mess to clean up," Thranduil stated calmly. "On our way here, we took care of the Easterlings that occupied Esgaroth. Now all that remains are those in Dale."

"You have my thanks, Elvenking. It did not come to my attention that there was even an encampment within that ruin," Odin replied. "How many still linger in Dale?"

"Very little, most fled during the night," Sol reported. Odin glanced over at Sol looking her over before his gaze returned to Thranduil. She was pale, deathly pale, yet she still held herself tall despite her lack of sleep. "We found only the previous Crowned Prince dead."

"I see," Came Thranduil's reply, 'Then if what your second in command says is true then let us be on our way and finish off these attackers, shall we?" He motioned at both Tauriel and Himon to depart and then he let out a short sigh. Odin glanced up to watch the Elvenking. He became curious to this strange behavior; why he had acted so quickly upon Erebor's behalf. It could've been the fact that Odin was ruling over it now; or it could have been the fact that the Easterlings took Coruwen from him. Odin didn't know, nor would he ask. His curiosity was simply that of a young man curious to the knowledge and thought pattern of those old than he. Thranduil glanced down and a faint, sad smile creased his face. "You will be a fine king, Odin. It is in your blood, you need only think about it and it will come."

Without thinking, he blurted, "Why did you come?"

The look of surprise from Thranduil made Odin begin to mentally chastise himself for blurting like a young child. Damn his curious nature! The Elvenking chuckled and patted the prince's head softly. "You most likely knew this, but I loved your mother as my daughter and you my grandson. I will not let your mother's death be taken lightly, nor will I let the Easterlings slip by," Thranduil answered. "Your mother was dying, my boy. But she should not have died in such a…" He shut his eyes tightly, pinching the space between his eyes. "I'll explain when the battle is over. Too much is going on right now, Odin."

"I understand," Odin whispered. He controlled the impulse to ask why, why did he let his mother's death impact him so? Odin knew that his mother died in a rather inelegant way along with his father and cousin. Especially his father…. His father was a leader, strong-willed, proud, and cared for his people. He did not deserve to die by a cutthroat's hand. And then something snapped within Odin that made his blood begin to boil at the thought. His mind spat hateful thoughts and desired him to speak curses towards the Easterlings. The wrath died down when he looked upon the Easterlings' encampment and their numbers had lessened significantly. Something must have chased the Easterlings off during the night...

The ground around Dale was burnt black, the stone charred and the hide tents incinerated into piles of smoking ash. Odin started down Erebor's slopes with Thranduil to inspect the ruins of Dale. Odin saw a small regiment of elves threading themselves throughout the ruins. Odin passed a hand against the steel enforced gates of Dale, the heat of the fire that had burned them still hot to the touch even though the flames had died. It was strange; he'd never seen such an occurrence before. He heard a crunch beneath his boot and felt his stomach turn at what he saw.

Bones… Bones burnt black and clean as if wolves had ravaged them. He glanced back at Thranduil exchanging a puzzled look with the elf as they tried to picture what went on before they arrived. Odin wove his way through the hide tents, finding them abandoned with the Easterlings' belongings still inside. The prince figured they were attacked during the night; but what attacked them was the question. Odin narrowed his eyes at the state of the charred remains of the encampment.

"Freya did this," Odin stated. He scratched his face absentmindedly, wondering how Freya could have burned the encampment. His mind had many ideas; she could have struck when Sol left, or she snuck out after the group had returned. A cough drew his attention to a patch of untouched stone and ground. There, chained to the wall, armor stripped from him with bloody whip marks upon his body, was Bard. His dark brown hair was matted with dirt and dried blood, his face ghostly pale, and his breathing shallow. Odin's heart stopped in his chest as she approached Bard cautiously, watching him as if he were a spectre. "Bard, are you all right?"

Bard's hazel eyes rose from the ground, and a weak smile creased his face. His smile faded when a cough tore through his frail body. Odin knelt before his friend, his hands trying to remove the irons that held his arms up. When he could not open the clasps, Odin felt his heart sink when he saw the black tint touching some of the wounds on Bard's shoulders and chest.

"Balder!" Odin shouted over his shoulder. His fingers feathered across the wounds, gracing one causing Bard to howl in pain. Odin flinched at the pain in his voice. Balder appeared in his side vision and he signed to him to get the clasps open. Balder withdrew his one of his picks a throwing knife and began to work on the lock. "Are there any more survivors, Bard?"

"Maybe," Bard rasped through the pain of his right arm falling to his side. "Find… the Generals' tent…"

Odin nodded and left Bard, his heart still lost in its own grief. Many times during his search he tripped over bones, or snapping them with his boots. He stopped before a large hide tent with a burnt corpse kneeling before it, holding what looked like a child in its arms. He stared in shock of the corpse's attempt at protection. He knelt before the corpse, withdrawing a piece of half-burnt blue cloth. The cloth was brittle; Odin looked at the corpse and then the cloth. He hoped that he never had to deal with this in his lifetime again. There was too much loss, too much pain involved, too many being slain using the name of the lord they served who feared stepping out of his home.

Odin swept back the flap of the tent, his eyes searching the tent interior. A simple trunk and light blonde furs covered the floor. A pass of darkness made his attention snap over to it. Leaning on a wooden support was his mother's frail body. Her gold hair stuck to her face, colored dark by her blood. Her leather armor had not been touched aside from a great tear from her right shoulder to the left side of her waist. Had Odin not been gifted with sharper senses, he would have not seen her shallow breathing. Odin approached her at a dreadfully slow gait, one hands trying to reach for her as sorrow and relief flashed in his eyes.

When he came closer, Odin found her blue eyes staring up at him with a thread of life lingering behind. He could see it; her life dancing in between the Halls of Mandos and the earthly plain. He thought about turning to call for Thranduil, but there were too many emotions fraying his mind that it slipped free.

"Odin…" Coruwen murmured her voice hoarse. One slender hand reached up for him, which he clung to in an instant with his knees buckling, forcing him to the ground. The weakest and smallest of smiles creased her face at the sight of him. He couldn't tell what emotion toyed with his heartstrings that moment; it was the middle ground between happiness and sorrow. He wanted her to live on, but the flickering life in her eyes told him different. Tears began to sting his eyes as he stroked her hands with his thumbs. "Sweetheart, don't cry."

"How can I not? I'm going to lose you," Odin whispered, his voice thickening with emotion. He shut his eyes, feeling the sadness well up in his chest like a rising wave. "It's not fair… There must be a way to save you!"

Coruwen used what little strength she possessed and pulled him closer to him. He crept near her, nestling his face against her dwindling pulse. Her hands stroked his hair softly and kissed his forehead. "There is nothing can save me now, my son. I am too far gone, and the same can be said for your father," She replied. Odin gritted his teeth, holding back the waves of sadness crashing on his soul. "You knew of my ailment… It was only a matter of time; I would have gone just as painfully."

"No you wouldn't have!" Odin objected. "You would have been happy. You're clearly in pain!"

Coruwen gave out a sad laugh, shaking her head a bit. "Odin, sweetheart, I am happy. I will say that I was happy up until the end. The happiness and love you and your father gave outweighs the pain I gained over the years. You are the greatest thing that I brought into this world." He felt his throat constrict and he curled close to his mother; his internal child breaking through. He could hear her heart within her chest; it was slowing and skipping every other beat. "I love you more than you could ever know, Odin. I will ask this of you once, and no more, dear."

"Anything, Nana," He muttered. He buried his face into her neck, and despite the scent of copper clinging to her, he could still smell the scent of roses and spring air on her. A scent that he often associated with her.

"Let me go," She answered. Odin backed away from her, horror stricken. The statement was clear to read upon her face; she was done with fighting to cling to life now. He shook his head, unable to do it. She was his mother; he didn't want her to leave him. "Please Odin… I will see you again, but please… Let me go."

"No," Odin objected.

Coruwen smiled, "You are your father's son, I see."

"I will not let you go. Not yet," He held both of her hands, letting his tears fall upon them. His heart finally began to break into pieces as she told him her final wish. He clung to her, trying to hold her physical body still as if that would prevent her spirit from leaving. He felt her hands run through his hair gently. Behind him a crack sounded, making him sit up abruptly. Thranduil stood in the tent's entrance, a mixture of disbelief and grief written on his fair face. Odin backed away from his mother allowing Thranduil to approach her, but still he held onto her hand with one finger touching her pulse. The Elvenking knelt beside her and took her hand in his with the grief beginning to set into his face.

"Coruwen, you're-," Thranduil whispered, his voice breaking before he cut himself off. Coruwen leaned her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her hair lightly. Thranduil glanced over at Odin, and the prince saw a great pain etched in his eyes. "Let her go, Odin."

Odin's eyes widened in shock, "No, I won't," Odin snapped.

Thranduil tried to speak again but Coruwen raised her hand up to stop him. "Odin, I know your fear," She said gently, her hand sliding free of his. Her slender hands took the sides of his face forcing him to look into her eyes. "But you are the son of a great king. Never doubt that leadership is in your blood, but you force it away. Your father is more than likely gone, and I am joining him. The position of King falls to you, sweetheart." Her hand passed across his face once more and her lips pressed against his forehead lightly. "I love you, Odin…"

She fell against the wooden support again taking a deep breath. Odin heard her release the breath as her eyes fluttered closed. His heart gave out, fed up with writhing in its own grief and he felt tears slip down his cheeks. Thranduil stood with his face impassive yet his eyes clouded with great sorrow. The prince took raspy breaths, trying to quell the surging sadness within his heart. He heard Balder outside and he told himself he had kingdom to rule, yet he could not tear himself from his mother's last words.

"Thranduil, I'll see to my mother, go see if you locate my father," Odin stated, clearing his mind of all negative emotions. The Elvenking gave him a bow of his head before disappearing out of the tent. Odin placed his forehead against his mother's, "I love you too, Mother." At her side, he saw the Dragon Blade and took it without a second thought. Despite the pain in his heart, he stood and found the nearest Lake-Man to point in her general direction. His mother believed in his ability to become king… She believed in him, and he was starting to believe in himself. The blade in his hand was light, almost like wielding a feather rather than a sword. He unsheathed the Dragon Blade a bit, running a hand along the fine edge of the blade. "Smaug's tooth… How, ironic," He chuckled.

"Odin!" Balder called, drawing his attention. Balder's grey eyes were panicked making Odin curious as he drew near his friend. "We've found your father and Tyr."

"What? A-Are they all right?" Odin asked, concern falling into his voice. Balder avoided his gaze, and Odin's heart sank. They're gone, he thought. His heart was all ready broken but now there was a feeling of emptiness in his heart as if someone had stomped on his heart's shattered remains. "I see…"

"What of your mother?"

"Same…" Odin glanced up at Balder catching the pained look in his friend's eyes. Hesitantly, he gripped Balder's shoulder and Balder chuckled humorlessly. Balder, though the lighter-hearted one of Dwalin's boys, seemed suddenly grim and melancholic. "Balder, I'm sorry…"

Balder shook his head, "its fine."

Odin didn't believe him, but did not wish to press the matter further knowing that Balder had lost a literal half of himself. He released Balder and found Thranduil once more. The Elvenking was counting the dead, ally and enemy, as they passed by him. Odin caught a small glance from the Elvenking before he started counting again.

"How many?"

"I lost count, I believe. At least one hundred dead, a few here and there that will be going off to the Halls of Mandos."

"Thranduil, you said you would explain my mother's meaning to me after this."

Thranduil sighed, "I suppose I did, didn't I?" The ellon started back towards Erebor with Odin following him and the two were silent for most of the journey. It wasn't until they passed Ravenhill that Thranduil stopped. "Your mother was strong and self-willed. When she declared that she would leave the ranks of the elves of Lothlórien and Imladris many turned their backs on her; her father included. She became distraught after that incident, but I kept her near. It seemed wrong to cast a woman out simply because of the person she chose to love." Odin watched Thranduil intently; the Elvenking seemed a tad regretful about the choice he made. The story of his father and mother was identical to that of Beren and Lúthien, even to the point where Lúthien was cast out of elven culture because of her choices. "I do not regret what I did, but rather the actions following."

"What followed?" Odin inquired, resting the Dragon Blade's scabbard on the stone.

"Your mother was shunned by the people she knew, and most everything that dealt with our kind involving her, had to be dealt with through me. I wasn't taking too kindly to that."

Odin chuckled, "I wouldn't either."

Thranduil pated Odin's shoulder gently and motioned up to Erebor's gates. "You have people to look after, my boy. I suggest you start controlling them."

"How hard can it be?"

The Elvenking laughed, shaking his head. In his mind, Odin saw no problems with controlling Erebor's people. His father did it rather easily… He cast a small glare at Thranduil, who withheld his chuckle by clearing his throat. "Famous last words, young one."

"Or so you say," Odin said with a great amount of pride. "I, for one, see that this task shall be a challenge, yet easy at the same time."

"And I think you are tapping into your father's blood, now stop it."

Odin chuckled as he started up the slope towards the main gates. He had people to look after, seeing as he was the unofficial King under the Mountain. He found that title hard to believe; he knew that one day it would fall to him. His mother's words gave him a tad bit of pride, his father's blade gave him guidance, and soon his life would be in line again.

-April 5, 3019-

The days that came were calm and full of rehabilitation of both physical and mental state for all. The dead had either been burned or buried; the services completed allowing many to be relieved. Freya had begun to tears out the old stonework in large chunks, ferrying them off to make new towers near Esgaroth. The dragoness had returned to Erebor for a long awaited celebration; the crowning of both the Lord of Dale and King under the Mountain.

Odin ran a hand across the light grey wolf fur adorning the shoulders of his coat feeling the bristly, yet softness of the fur. The coat he wore was dark blue in color aside from the fur that was stitched the bottom and shoulders. He wore a tunic of black with silver embroidered in it to appear like chainmail. On his forearms were polished steel gauntlets with swirling knots to form a three pointed star with a circle in the middle. He started adjusting the straps on his gauntlets and his belt in a nervous fit until he heard someone behind him making him jump.

In the doorway was Frigga, in a dress of jade green with lined with gold. Her hair was plaited with white ribbon and a pretty smile on her face that made him turn a bit pink. She giggled and approached him, greeting him with a playful tug on his tunic sleeve.

"You look rather kingly like that," Frigga laughed. Odin snorted making Frigga giggle again.

"What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be helping my aunt?" Odin asked her as he rested a hand on Orcrist. He kept his face impassive despite the giddiness building in his heart. The way her eyes sparkled and her pretty smile made his heart flip in his chest. She shook her head warranting a cryptic look from him. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I wanted to come see you, and well…" Frigga's voice drifted off for a moment in thought, He saw her fingers fiddling with the white stone pendant around her neck that he had given her. She smiled shyly at the ground. "I wanted to thank you for this gift. I know you say I deserve it and all, but I guess I doubted your judgment for a spell."

"You're welcome," Odin answered, a smile of his own creasing his face as he embraced her. She stiffened for a few seconds before leaning into him. A little thought in the back of his mind told him to push the boundaries of the friend-zone, but he pushed it away. If Frigga wanted to accept him as such, she would act as so. She pulled away from him with his hands on her shoulders. "Now, you should probably return to my aunt before she starts to worry."

Frigga flashed a smile up at him before running off. He heard another set of footsteps coming towards his room and he sighed annoyed. He wanted a bit of time to himself for once. He kept his gaze locked on the doorway, finding that Kili and Bard both stood in the doorway. Bard had his hair braided back on the sides with a few strands framing his face. He wore a black cloak with brown fur on the back. He wore a tunic of dark red with black breeches.

Kili gave him a smile and then motioned backwards. Odin took a deep breath, trying to soothe the anxious nerves dancing throughout his system. The trio made their way towards the main hall where the people of Dale, Esgaroth, Erebor, and Mirkwood sat in wait for their lords to appear. Odin heard the sounds of people from within and his heart about stopped. His aunt stood on the steps before the great doors with Frigga and Bard's mother.

"Are you ready?" Dís asked him as he began to finger Orcrist's hilt in anxiety. Kili bumped his shoulder playfully and he swatted his cousin back warranting a snicker from him. Dís shot Kili a scolding look and he averted his gaze to the floor. She gripped his upper elbow tightly and gave him a soft smile. "You'll do fine. You have Kili and Balder as your advisors, after all."

Odin let out a short sigh and then gave her a nod telling her he was ready. She chuckled, giving a gesture for Kili to open the doors before taking her son's arm. Odin felt Frigga grip his arm and slowly looped his arm with hers. The people within the room were beyond count, the Lake-Men and elves on the right side and the dwarves of Erebor upon the left. Their chatter died down instantly the doors opened with their gazes becoming affixed on the people in the doorway. Odin looked down the makeshift aisle spying Freya lying behind the stone thrones.

Odin had never known dragons to wear jewelry or armor, but Freya wore a great necklace of silver and tiger eyes around her neck almost matching the tint of her eyes. Her scales were polished to catch the soft sunlight and she smiled down at the people below. The stage fright he had taken on lightened a bit at the sight of Freya. It was when Frigga departed his side that made his heart jump to his throat. All eyes were trained upon him and Bard. From his position beside Bard, Odin felt the anxiety radiating off of his friend. In-between them were Dís and Kili with Freya towering above them.

"Good friends, we have gathered within these great halls to celebrate the crowning of the Lord of Dale and the King under the Mountain; a task that has not been done for nearly sixty years," Dís began drawing the attention away from Bard and Odin. "The losses of our people were great, but in time they will be fixed with these young men as our guides. Granted, they are young and little sense of may, or may not come, but that is how life and age function. Let them guide our cities well with their lives free of grievances."

Brand's second in command stepped forward, freeing himself of the crowd, and approached Bard with a circlet of silver with two blood red onyxes set into the middle. Bard knelt before the second in command allowing him to set the circlet upon his brow. Odin saw Kili standing before him with a crown formed of tarnished silver with faded engravings of Cirth runes. He copied his friend, feeling the crown's weight upon his head. The metal was cold and was devouring the heat his body gave it.

"Arise, King under the Mountain and Lord of Dale," Freya announced. Odin and Bard stood together with the silence of the room clinging to them before a clap was heard in the far back of the vast room. Quickly the cheer spread throughout the room filling Odin with a strange sense of pride. He glanced over at Kili, who was clapping for his cousin with a genuine on his face. Interrupting the cheer was Freya's roar making many stare up at her in horror. "A dragon's greeting, for the new lords."

"Thank you, Freya," Odin stated with a smile. "I hope the days that come will be ones of peace and happiness. My father was an honorable man, and many would say that he was one the greatest kings to rule these halls. I hope I can live up that standard."

There was a loud cheer from the dwarves making Odin bow his head to his people. Bard spoke to his people in the tongue of Lake-Men and that warranted cheer for him. Bard cast a smile over at Odin before stepping down from the dais and becoming swarmed by people. Eventually, the swarms of people spread thin and left the hall. He let out a sigh before turning back to Freya and the stone thrones. His mind drifted off for a second to a memory of being young.

"One day, this seat will be yours and everything that Erebor's shadow touches will be your land…"

"Even Dale?"

"No, Dale belongs to Bard, but everything that surrounds Esgaroth and Dale will be yours."

Odin remembered the conversation well, and his heart ached at the thought of his father. The man that he follow after, the man that he admired more than anyone in Middle-Earth. He missed him and as he came to sit in the throne of his forefathers he heard his mother's laugh in his ears drawing his attention upward to the beam of light that came through a small window. He felt a hand on his shoulder with the grip loose.

"Odin, I'm going to hunt for a bit, I will return to you," Freya stated as she stood before padding out of the main hall, slithering her serpentine body through the door. Odin glanced over at the hand on his shoulder, tracing the arm upward to shadowed figure that removed its hand and then mutated its body into a lion. The king found that the creature was a spectre and that Kili and Dís had not seen it. He glanced between the lion and Kili and then back.

"Kili, I'll be back in a moment," Odin stated, trying to keep the rising nervousness out of his voice. He chased after the lion that started down a flight of stairs toward the lower levels making Odin pause. Why would it go down there? What was down there? He shook off the thoughts, pursuing the lion that ran through his halls. The halls began to change into the old ruins of what Erebor used to be sixty years ago. A crumbling, Dwarven city with tarnished walls and cracking ceilings. The lion halted before a great bronze door with the crest of Durin wrought in gold on the door. "What in the name is going on?"

Hesitantly, he pushed open the door to see the lion, now golden with bright blue eyes, sitting beside a golden, blue eyed dragoness and a black dragon with sapphire eyes. A sleek black otter sat on its hind legs with its head tilted curiously to the side. Beside the black dragon was a white, snowy owl and next to the gold dragon was a white-silver fox with storm grey eyes.

"Ok, I've officially lost my mind," Odin muttered. "That, or Kili slipped something into my food again." He started mentally rationalizing why there were animals before him. "I'm asleep, I'm drunk, or I'm combination of the two and nobodies told me." The otter let out a chirp making him jump. "Be quiet, otter."

"That's no way to treat your uncle," A voice teased. The voice was familiar, gentle and deep. Odin whirled around to where the lion had been sitting and found Fili sitting on a fallen pillar instead in his armor with a smirk on his lips. Odin's heart gave out at the sight of his cousin and ran to embrace him. Fili chuckled, ruffling his hair softly. "That looks good on you, kiddo. We're all proud of you."

"We?" Odin repeated.

"Yes," A baritone voice replied firmly. Odin glanced over his shoulder to see his father, Balin, his mother, and a strange elf and dwarf that he did not know. Odin fell to his knees at the sight with his mother's happy gaze falling on him. His father started towards him and Odin stood before his father gripped his shoulders tightly, looking him over. "My boy, look at you…" Thorin chuckled quietly. "A King, after all these years."

"I didn't want to become king like this, you know," Odin pointed out. "It seemed a tad wrong."

Thorin sighed, "We all can't have our way, Odin." Quickly, Thorin pulled his son into him in a firm embrace whispering, "I'm proud of you… Know that much."

Odin swallowed the growing relief in his soul at his father's words. He released his father and Thorin backed away. Odin found it hard to believe that this was happening. He didn't care if someone had played a trick on him; he was happy. The past few days he had been living with the constant reminder that he couldn't save any of his family aside from Kili and Dís. One could say that it bothered him greatly.

"How is this possible?" Odin asked them. Coruwen interlocked arms with the strange elf before descending the stairs to greet him. "Nana how is this happening?"

"Your foresight, Odin," Coruwen answered gently. Her slender hand pressed up against his face. Her hands were warm like sun upon a rock. They differed from when her hands had touched his face when she was dying. It was strange, most of his life her hands had been freezing but now they were warm with life once more. "What you are seeing is what Manwë wishes for you to see, and he wished for you to see us. And what you are feeling is the Life of the Eldar, something I gave up when I chose your father."

"It's strange," Odin murmured, removing her hand from his face. Her face was no longer as pale; she was physically and spiritually bright with life. "That meant all of my life you were dying?"

"Yes," Coruwen said. "But I do not regret it."

Odin shifted his glance to the ellon with his mother. He was gifted with silver-blonde hair and grey eyes with a chiseled face. He was dressed in robes of dark grey and ivory with a curved blade at his hip. "Who is this?"

"I am Orophin, your great uncle you never met," Orophin told him with a smile. His gaze flicked over to Coruwen. "You're right, nightingale. He does have your eyes and intelligence."

"I told you," Coruwen laughed. "He is a fine son."

Odin felt heat rise to his cheeks at the statement; his mother was bragging about him to others. He guessed even in death she would do it. The two elves returned up the steps and Thorin, Balin, Fili, and the other dark haired dwarf approached him. Odin had remembered Balin well from his youth, the dwarf had taught him many things and Odin saw him as his grandfather. However, the dwarf beside his father looked oddly familiar; in fact he looked an awful lot like his father in appearance. Their bearing and physical appearance were the same aside from one looking younger than the other.

"Odin, you're staring," Fili stated flatly. Odin snapped his attention to Fili, who chuckled at the sudden change. "That's our Uncle Frerin; he passed during the first battle against Azog."

"Oh," Odin muttered. He wasn't quite sure how to react around Frerin. He couldn't piece together words and began to play with Orcrist's pommel. He was overjoyed to see all of lost family all in one place, even the ones he had never met he was happy to see. His hand was ceased by his father's making his gaze rise up. "You believe that I will be able to rule over these halls?"

"We all do, lad. You are a descendant of Thror, and you learned from two great leaders," Balin told him with a smile. "That's got to count for something."

A gentle bell chime drew Odin's gaze to his mother, who was still holding on to Orophin's arm tightly but her eyes were shut tightly. He looked to his father, who seemed rather annoyed as his gaze flicked backward to his mother. Fili sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair as he started towards Coruwen. Odin's heart began to panic as the others started towards the two elves.

"What?" Odin mouthed as his eyes narrowed at the sight. His mother released Orophin's arm and took Thorin's hand before her eyes opened into half slits. "Mother, what is going on?"

Coruwen laughed a bit, stepping down towards him and placing her hand on his head gently. "Your foresight is dwindling, sweetheart. So, I leave with this piece of knowledge. Though you do not see us, we are with you along with every other soul that has passed within these halls. However, do not let our memory make you cling to old memories. There is one that will be your companion through hard times…"

Odin frowned causing a small laugh to come from his mother. She turned back, walking back to her place beside his father. The king's gaze began to cloud with blurs but he shoved it away.

"Odin, could you tell Kili something for me?" Fili asked as Odin's vision began to swirl with dark grey and amber making his eyes begin to hurt. He managed a nod through the pain. "Tell him not to fear any night anymore. He's sulking too much."

The king gave him a nod before his vision was clouded by infinite darkness. The pain in his head subsided but he dared not open his eyes again for fear of the strange pain to return. He sat up, finding himself in a dark room lined with fallen pillars and broken stone. His heart began to ache again when he realized that his foresight had made him a fool. Maybe Manwë wanted him to see his family one last time, but it didn't seem like they were truly there. No one else could claim that they saw them, and if he tried to tell someone they might think him a mad king…

Odin picked himself up, starting toward the higher levels again to tell Kili his brother's message with the hopes of him actually listening. He began to wonder how long he had been down in the catacombs because Freya had returned from her hunting trip and Kili was nowhere to be found. He climbed steps towards Kili's room in the hopes of finding him, but instead found his dog sitting in front of his cousin's door. Odin gently knocked on the door, and what followed made him roll his eyes. A series of loud bangs and thumps like someone was running. Kili would forever be disorganized, the king thought in mild annoyance. The door opened revealing Kili with mussed hair and a panicked look in his eyes.

"Do I need ask?" Odin inquired with a smirk. Kili pursed his lips, but playfully swatted him before turning on his heel. "Wait a minute, Kili…"

Kili began picking up pieces of wood and throwing daggers. "What is it? I'm trying to clean my room," Kili said flatly.

"No, you're sulking," Odin pointed out, leaning against the door frame. Kili shot a dirty look back at him before muttering a few curses, at which Odin promptly cleared his throat reminding his cousin he was still present. "A little cat told me to tell you to no longer fear any night and to stop sulking."

Kili physically froze and his hands dropped their contents when he heard the words. Almost like a neglected automaton, Kili slowly looked back at him with his grief in his eyes. "That's impossible, how do you know that?" Kili asked.

"A little cat told me to tell you that, nothing more," Odin replied calmly before starting towards his grieved cousin. He gave Kili a gentle nudge on the arm before gripping his shoulder. "We all miss 'em, Kili. If you ever need me for anything; just ask."

"Do you think he felt it?"

Odin blinked in shock at the statement. Kili's face was downcast, his hair hanging in his eyes with a clear sorrow etched into his face. "I-I wouldn't know, but I suppose he felt the last moments before that knife cut him."

"Fili always was the more collected one out of the two of us. Without him, I feel kinda… Lost," Kili went over to a trunk and began to rifle through it. Odin watched as he stopped in his frenzy, and he stood holding a blue tapestry in his hands. It was one of the many that his mother had made during her free time. Set into a dark blue background was a golden lion with light blue eyes shining with proudly with a wreath of vermillion around its neck. "This was Fili's; a gift from your mother for the day he named Crowned Prince. I planned on taking it down to the catacombs one day; that is, if I can part with it. I feel like I failed my brother… I shouldn't have let him go out there…"

"Kili, there's nothing you could've done," Odin reminded him. Kili gripped the tapestry tightly as his shoulders shook with sorrow. "He wanted to protect Erebor…"

"I know…" He scoffed, "By Mahal I know that! I just… I just wanted to make sure he was always close to me. He's always been with me, you know. Even as children, I wasn't far from Fili and he wasn't far from me."

"What does Fear not this Night mean to you?"

"It was a saying in Belegost, or rather a song sung by the women there, but kids used to use it as a saying to not fear anything… It told someone that you were giving them hope and put aside all fear and worry," Kili explained. He gave out a humorless laugh before setting aside the tapestry. "That's why I'm surprised you knew what that meant."

"Well, I hope that we'll begin to mend the new scars we just received…"

"They should heal rather quickly… I mean, you are king now."

Odin smiled faintly, "Aye, I didn't think I'd ever hear that… But it happened and now I am King under the Mountain."

Kili smiled, "You'll do fine as king… You just don't think you will."

"I have confidence that I will be able to be a great king like my father. Many say that I more his son than my mother's."

Kili chuckled and nudged Odin's shoulder playfully once more. "Your mother said something a few days after you were born; an elven saying but I think it came true."

"Which was what?"

"He is the son of storms, raised beneath the dragon's wing. He is the Allfather, a mighty king by birth." Kili let out a long sigh, running a hand across his face as he thought over the saying. "He is the son of a king; a prince."

Odin couldn't believe the saying for a moment, but then began to put the puzzle pieces into order. He smiled faintly before starting to turn towards the door where Fenrir lay. "Interesting," Odin murmured. "I am going to retire; so much went on today that it almost seems a tad unrealistic."

"Right, thanks for giving the cat's message. Whoever the cat is," Kili chuckled. Odin whistled for Fenrir as he left his cousin's room and made his way to his own. He opened the door, allowing Fenrir in first. He set Orcrist down, leaning against the wall as he thought over the statement that his mother had made a few days after his birth. The statement came true…

He was destined to become King under the Mountain after his father. He was meant to lead these people and aid the Lake-Men. He was the son of two great leaders, moreover the son of a king. He mentally chuckled at the thought of such a title, his newest title had not yet settled into his mind making him slowly laugh. Fenrir placed his head in his master's lap allowing him to rub his ears gently.

"I am the King under the Mountain now, Fenrir," Odin whispered. "I suppose I am more like my father than I think I am. People have been saying it for years that I was his son, and I never listened; yet here I am now a king…" Fenrir licked his palm letting out a whine. "And youare the king's hound, my Fenrir. First of his name…"

Fenrir let out a deep bark, his tail wagging happily at his master's happiness. Odin let out a sigh before standing. His mind wandered off to his family that silently watched over him from the Halls of Waiting. At least he was no longer alone, he thought. After all, he had his best friend and cousin as his advisors, he had a woman he cared for, and his life was no longer as hectic as it once was… The prince that was forced to take charge of his people delivered what many thought he could not, and became the leader of this great race with guidance. And through the years, Odin, son of Thorin, would be of the greatest kings to ever ascend the throne in the Lonely Mountain's halls.

A/N: Holy last chapter Batman, it's done! I know I said a few chapters last chapter, but my hard drive decided to be a jerk and dump itself! I was not very pleased after said incident. So, I am sorry if this seemed rushed or I made you cry because I did when I wrote this up this morning..

Without further ado, please review and tell me what you loved in all of this crazy madness!