The Mountain of Light
Disclaimer: Not mine, never was. *sighs*
AN: So...we're pretty close to the finale. I can't even describe how wonderful you guys have been. Thank you very *very* much for supporting this fic!
Chapter 11
Thráin opened the doors in haste. His breath was hitched right at his throat and his heart drummed in such an erratic nature that it threatened to burst out from the rib cage containing it.
As for Thráin himself, just as word had reached his ears— the word of all that which had taken place in the throne room— he immediately felt immense rage and utter disgust towards the elves. His father had been insulted and he was not about to accept any of that.
When he had reached the throne room, the first thing that came to his view was a trembling Thrór, whose face went red with anger.
"Father!" He called out but Thrór paid no attention.
Thráin walked right up to the eldest of them all and before he could even say anything, Thrór looked up and muttered something in Khuzdul.
It was then that he noticed that wild look in his father's eyes. The look he reserved only while talking about the diamond—a look that portrayed obsession in its most crude form that grew wilder and wilder as Thrór kept on staring at him.
Suddenly, without any warning, the dwarf king went past Thráin and stormed towards the door.
"Father, wait!" He called after him but it was of no avail. Thrór was desperate and agile in this state. He would listen to no one.
Thrór turned a deaf ear to his son and made way towards the door. He grabbed hold of a guard's sword and ordered the baffled dwarf in a tone that welcomed no question, "Close the gates!"
"Father!" Thráin followed the dwarf king to some distance but when it was made clear that his efforts of stopping him would be futile, Tháin halted in his tracks and saw his father's retreating form.
The corner of his eyes finally caught hold of two figures, silently standing in the corner—one in absolute shock of Thrór's sudden course of action and another shocked and in utter disbelief of everything that had been going on up till that point.
After a few moments, he caught Kíli's gaze and as a response, narrowed his own eyes dangerously before letting his eyes fall on Thorin.
His son was looking pale and stricken. And Thráin now confirmed why.
His eyes narrowed further, making every wrinkle stand out prominently.
"You're a disgrace." He said coldly and chose to ignore the glare from Thorin being directed at him. "Both of you." He said again looking at Kíli.
Before anyone could provide him a retort, he walked out of that room to head for his weapons. His father needed him.
"Uncle," Kíli nudged the only dwarf remaining in that enormous room. He had stayed silent for way too long and if he continued doing so, they'd have a problem escalating out of hand.
"Do something." He pleaded, tugging hard at the other."C'mon! That mad cow's going to bury all of us in the ground by the looks of it."
Because of that, Thorin seemed to snap out of his stupor as his gaze quickly became sharper and more calculating. Soon, it regained the characteristic steeliness that defined the very essence of Thorin Oakenshield.
"Grab your bow Kíli." He finally ordered with exuding determination. "We're going after them."
Thranduil furrowed his brows when he noticed the corridor to the exit being completely empty with no dwarf in sight.
As he neared, his frown deepened when his eyes took in the sight of the gates being closed.
What in Arda's name is this?
He wondered, taking great care not to ignore the warnings he felt coming from his intuition. He glanced around and saw the grave faces of his men who were now anticipating something very anxiously. By their pallor, it was well guessed that they bode something ominous to be in store from them.
And much to his denial, so did Thranduil.
He strode along and didn't stop. His demeanour didn't reveal the concern he was feeling as they inched towards the sealed off exit. Much to his relief neither did those of his men.
Just what are you planning, you old fool?
He quickly turned, just in time to catch the sight of one of his guard falling with an arrow sticking from his throat.
"What is this?" He yelled, taken completely by surprise.
Just then, two more of his guards fell claimed by arrows and very quickly, the remainder of them quickly enclosed their king and drew their weapons out.
"Watch out!" One of them hollered before letting out a gasp as he fell too.
Thranduil drew his sword out and quickly came out from the safe cocoon formed just for him.
"My king, you should stay inside!" He heard someone say.
"Don't be impractical, soldier." He swiftly faced him and said in an adamant tone, forcing the guard to comply. "I can't just stand by hiding!"
He scanned the crevices for the dwarf archers but they were just too well hidden in the cracks and croons of the blasted mountains they took time to carve.
The worry he felt now was becoming a dreadful reality and although he saw it capable for Thrór to take desperate measures, he still wasn't prepared for him to be so organized in a livid state. It was beyond normal behaviour and Thranduil truly counted on Thrór's state to take a hold on him for them to get out safely and go well beyond his reach!
His eyes widened in a haste realization.
No, it couldn't be Thór. He had help. But who was a question that still had to be answered. A flash of strong jaws and those familiar determined eyes flashed in his mind and suddenly, Thranduil felt himself growing heavy with disappointment.
Surely it couldn't be him?
However, he didn't have time to indulge in the pang with which his heart throbbed. He was quickly shaken out of his thoughts by a wild cry. With bewilderment, he saw a bunch of dwarves running towards them and engaging quickly with whatever elf guards he had left.
His men hastily formed a barrier in front of him and fought them off valiantly. However, they knew as much as him that it was a lost cause. The elves were tired and outnumbered and practically out in the open. Still they fought. They had to save their king.
"Go your majesty!" One of them bellowed out in utter desperation, "Please. Mirkwood needs you."
Thranduil's legs suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't abandon his men!
But the guard who addressed him had in his eyes every bit of an expression which pleaded him not to let their efforts go in vain.
"Go. Now!" He yelled again with those expressive eyes. He relaxed considerably before engaging in his fight when Thranduil—with much hesitation and helplessness in his part— nodded and took a bypass deeper in the halls where he hoped to find another path.
It was another hard act that Thranduil had to perform.
AN: Thrain is not bad...he's just...totally dedicated to his dad. Umm, author's license? ^^; Please review!