Chapter Fifty

They sat gathered around the fire, eating slowly and quietly. Their day long labors in the treasury having drained them of their energy. But they wore finer things now. There were rings of gold in their fingers, necklaces of fine gems and new tunics of brocade and leather that had survived the years of neglect. Thorin had found his grandfathers crown.

At first he had held it gently, reverently as he stared at it in his hands. The strong lines of the cast metal, rising up into the shape of a raven. Balin sat beside him, a sigh passing his lips.

"I see you have found Thror's crown," Balin murmured.

"The kings crown," Thorin said softly. Balin pressed his lips together. Nuil frowned at him. By rights, it was Thorin's. Thorin was king. He had earned it, taken back the mountain and made the journey to Erebor. She wondered what he would look like with it on his head. More majestic, more regal. He would be able to enter a room and command anyones attention. He already could. But perhaps it would be more demanding.

He looked across the circle to her. their eyes meeting. She could see that he wanted to put it on, but that he was also hesitant. It was his grandfathers, the legacy of his family. But he was not yet crowned.

"Do you think it will fit on your head?" asked Dwalin, leaning on the head of his new axe. A smirk spread across his lips. Thorin looked at Dwalin, rolling his eyes as the corners of his lips turned up. There was a challenge in Dwalin's words, and so Thorin lifted the crown and slowly placed it on his head. It settled heavily in his hair. He looked at them all. Proud and wise he seemed. Most of the company sat in stunned silence.

"It suits you, uncle," Kili said almost breathlessly. He glanced at his brother. Nuil did not have to guess as to what he was thinking of. Would Fili look the same when it was his turn to wear the crown?

"My only wish is that my father were here to see this, to wear what should be his own. He never had the chance," Thorin said, sitting up straighter.

"At least you have the chance," Nuil murmured, pleased that he looked so grand and that something new was in his eyes. Purpose. He was King under the Mountain. Smaug was the last thing on her mind, and if he did return, he would have several dwarves to contend with. Whether it was foolish or not.

"Tomorrow we go to the watch tower, beyond the gates," Thorin said. "I much desire to speak with the Raven's of old and see if the line of Durin still holds the ability to speak with them."

"I had forgotten about that," Nuil said thoughtfully. "I spent much of my time with Dis and sometimes Frerin. They did not often speak of the Raven's. But you trained with them, yes?"

Thorin tilted his head. "Aye. I will show them to my nephews and you, if it pleases you."

"It would please me greatly." Thorin nodded. Balin nodded as well and looked to the others.

"Not all of us should go," he said, "some of us should stay behind in the mountain to guard it's gates; should Smaug return."

Gloin stood up. "Well, I for one, do not understand the speech of the Raven's. I will stay behind."

"Count us in," Dori said gesturing to himself and his brothers. Ori did not look pleased by it but did not speak against Dori. Nori offered no reply, engrossed with a gem encrusted goblet. Gloin, Oin, Nori, Dori, Ori and Bombur would remain in the mountain while the others were seek the watch tower. Thorin did not take off his crown, nor did he sleep much that night.

Nuil woke slowly, stretching leasurly under the fur coat that covered her. Opening her eyes she was met with the sight of Thorin hunched over, head in his hands. The crown lay beside him. Glancing around she found none of the others awake and stood, going to his side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, holding his coat in her free hand. He did not look up at her.

"Âzyungâl? What troubles you?" she murmured. Still he did not look at her, but lowered his hands to stare at them. Silently she lowered herself to sit beside him, gripping his arm tightly.

"I cannot find it," he murmured finally. "The stone of my grandsire and right to rule this mountain."

Instantly Bilbo came to mind and she could not remember why. But she had the feeling that she should not bring up the hobbit. For it was very important, but something that she mustn't tell Thorin. If she did, Bilbo's life would be in danger. But she could not recall what it was.

"The mountain is massive, Thorin, it is here. We just have not found it yet."

"It cannot take any more time!" he said fiercely. "When I send for Dain, I must be able to produce the stone to legitimize my authority."

"We will find it," Nuil soothed, brushing his hair away from his face. "It will take Dain a week at most to reach Erebor. And even then he cannot deny what is your birthright. He cannot say that Thror was his grandfather, the previous King under the Mountain."

Thorin looked at her finally, taking her hand within his own. He rubbed his thick calloused thumb over the back of her hand. "I would rest easier once the Arkenstone is with me," he admitted. "But with you by my side it will be bearable to endure."

Nuil kissed him, a chaste one, but it was enough. He lifted their entwined hands and kissed the back of her hand. With a sigh he looked towards the slumbering company.

"We should leave while it is early," he murmured.

"Aye."

Thorin grunted as he stood, letting go of his hand. He went over to where Dwalin lay sleeping and shook the warriors shoulder. Dwalin gave a start, his hand reaching for his axe when he saw that it was just Thorin. They spoke in hushed voices, before Thorin straightened and moved to the hall without looking back. Nuil watched him go, feeling slightly bereft without his presence, something that only the sight of the gold lying around her seemed to lessen.

Dwalin rose and began to rouse the rest of the company. The ones that were to go to the watch tower began to ready themselves, while the others slowly prepared themselves and the morning meal. Bilbo approached Nuil, his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly as he tried blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"As much as I wish to see talking ravens, I don't like the idea of leaving the mountain," he murmured. "Especially with how cold it is."

"Winter is coming, Bilbo," she replied, lifting her pack. "I suggest you get used to the cold. The mountain itself will not keep the chill out once a storm comes in."

Bilbo sighed heavily, kicking the stones around his feet. "I hope that it doesn't come to that."

"Come now, Master Baggins," Kili said handing Bilbo a pack. The hobbit stumbled slightly at the unexpected baggage. "Soon, we will have roarings fires and enough ale to go around!"

"And roasted meat! Dripping off the bone!" Fili added, passing them. An almost dreamy look entered Bilbo's eyes at the mention of food. They had all been living off of cram for the past several days. While it sustained them well enough, it had little taste and made them thirsty. Luckily, they had a river to draw water from. The Running River, rising up from the depths of the mountain, provided them with more than enough water.

"Well, come along, Bilbo," Nuil said pushing him towards the gates. "We best be off so that we reach the watch tower by sunset."

"And what if Smaug returns?"

"Then we will at least be out of the path of his destruction," she replied. They fell into line behind the others as they stepped outside the crumbling walls. Nuil tried not to think about the first time she had done so, having to claw and crawl her way to freedom.

"And the others?"

She frowned, glancing over her shoulder to see Gloin, Oin, Ori, Dori, Nori and Bombur watching them go. At first, she hadn't worried about Smaug returning. Leaving them behind hadn't bothered her. Now, a gnawing feeling of worry entered her gut. Would they be left to their deaths? What had Thorin been thinking? But it was also their choice to remain behind. Surely they would not agree to something so dangerous.

"I do not know Bilbo," she replied raising a hand in farewell to their companions.

Bilbo peered curiously at her, mindful of the rocks beneath his feet as they trekked southward from the gates. Nuil herself found it quite difficult to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Are you alright, Nuil?" Bilbo asked. She looked at him. He noted that her eyes seemed clearer. Far clearer than they had been in days.

"I feel as though I have woken from a dream . . ." she frowned at her feet. Nuil could recall everything that had happened in the mountain. Thorin's gift to her, their shared kisses and the words they spoke to one another. Even the time spent searching for the Arkenstone, or just that they had spent so much time in the hoard of gold.

Bilbo worriedly watched her until she raised her head again and gave him a tight reassuring smile. "It is well though. Worry not my friend." Her eyes quickly sought out Thorin. She spotted him near the front of their line, walking with Balin and she wondered. Wondered if he too felt a great weight lift off his shoulders now that he was in the open air and away from the mounds of gold within the mountain.

Nedoheen was confident that the elves would soon find him. He made enough of a commotion in the forest that it would be hard not to notice him. In his experience, elves were known for their subtlety. They did not ignore a man stomping through their woods, especially a man in Mirkwood. He had heard of the elvenking and his dislike for trespassers.

Thranduil, the elvenking, did not scare him. Not in the slightest. From the brief mentions of him by his sister, he wasn't someone Nedoheen would consider too great a threat. Perhaps, given that he was a sindar elf, his prowess with weapons would be great. But, no, he did not fear the elf. On the contrary, he despised the elf.

If his sisters stories were anything to go by, the elvenking had mistreated her. For that, he would not be forgiving.

He stilled as he felt the air shift around him. Normally, it would not be noticeable. But he was old and the stifling nature of the forest made it easy to feel. A moment later he felt the tip of an arrow press into his throat. He turned his head and came face to face with a fiery haired elleth.

She stood tall, dressed in dark greens, her bow held tightly as she glared at him.

"What is your business in these woods, man?" she demanded.

A grin spread across his face, and he held his hands up. "I seek an audience with the elvenking, on matters pertaining to the destruction of Esgaroth and death of Smaug."

Her bow lowered, eyes widening only a fraction at his words.

"Scouts saw the beast descend upon the city, but we knew not whether the outcome."

"I'd think it would be obvious by now," he replied, "the town is in ruins and he has not spread his wrath."

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not like your tone, mortal."

"Then take me to your king, my lady, so that I may relieve you of it."

Her lips pressed together in displeasure. He stood patiently waiting for her lead the way when another elf stepped from the trees. This one was fair, but less wild than his female companion. His hair the color of silvery gold.

"He means no harm, Tauriel," the elf said approaching him. The men stared at one another. "We will take him to the kind."

"Is that wise?"

The elf inclined his head. "He bears the same looks as his sister, kin of the woman that was with the dwarves."

"So you have met my sister," Nedoheen said.

"Indeed. I cannot say however, that her stay in our halls was pleasant."

Nedoheen nodded. Given the hatred between the elves and dwarves, he had little doubt in his mind that they had been imprisoned. "Lead on Master Elf," he told the elf.

The elleth, Tauriel, took up a place behind him. She did not trust him apparently, and he only smirked as he followed the other elf. He was not here to attack them, but to ask for aid on behalf of the people of Lake Town. Even if he did not like the elvenkind, he would not risk his wrath or give him any reason not to help them. By the time they reached the elven stronghold, the doors opening slightly to make enough room for them to enter, the sun was setting on the horizon. Though he did not like the elvenkind, or the elves haughty attitudes, the prospect of a warm bed and maybe a good meal kept him from being too rude to the elves leading him.

He entered through the doors and as Tauriel passed, they closed with a groan. The guards stationing themselves before the doors so that none could open them. He barely spared a glance over his shoulder but the feeling of being caged in set his nerves on edge. He caught Tauriel's gaze though and her emerald eyes shone with barely concealed curiosity. Interesting.

They quickly led him down a winding path that spanned over a great open space. Taking a peek below he could see other paths similiar to the one he walked on, all leading to different places. The one that they walked led to a platform in the center of the wide cavern where a great throne sat, huge antlers flanking the sides while the elvenkind himself sat lounging in his throne.

The male elf bowed his head respectively to his king.

"This man has requested an audience with you," he said. The king lowered his gaze to them, eyes narrowing.

"You know that I don't take audiences with just any who trespass our lands, Legolas," Thranduil murmured. The elf, Legolas, opened his mouth to speak but Thranduil held his hand up. "But I will hear what he has to say, for I recognize his resemblance to-"

"Nuil, my sister. I've heard that you met," Nedoheen said, unable to help himself. Thrainduil's eyes narrowed. He did not like being cut off. He was king after all.

"Yes, we have. I regret that I must tell you, she is not longer here."

"I know," Nedoheen replied. "She is in Erebor." At this Thranduil frowned, straightening as he regarding the man with a more calculating gaze.

"Then you must know she is dead, along with her companions," he said.

"Aye, that may be. But Smaug lies dead in the depths of the lake. Esgaroth lies in ruins and the survivors are in great need."

Thranduil leaned forward. "Smaug is dead?"

"Shot down by Bard the Bowman."

"Bard . . ." the elvenking murmured. "I know that name. Is he not Bard the Bargeman?"

"They are one in the same. I come to seek aid for his people," Nedoheen pressed. "Winter is upon us, and the race of men are less hardy than dwarves, and less resilient than elves. They have women and children."

Thranduil lifted his chin, his eyes cool as he looked down at him. Nedoheen kept himself from curling his lip at the elf, disliking how he held himself above others.

"You do not need to remind me of that fact, son of Nolen. I am not cruel," Thranduil replied. "We will offer our aid."

Nedoheen pressed his lips together, silencing the snarky comment he wished to say. For the elvenking was cruel. He had imprisoned his sister. Twice, now it seemed. Surely he was only offering his assistance in return for something. That something, he did not know.

"Come, Bilbo, look at this!" she cried reaching the top of the rise. Nuil rested her hands on her hips, gazing at the small little valley before her as the hobbit struggled up the hill behind her. The wind whipped at her hair, pulling small pieces out of her braid. The rest of the company already stood at the top, resting their legs. Nuil did not feel the fatigue so much. At least not to the point where all she wanted to do was lay down.

The cool wind held the promise of a bitter winter, but for now, it refreshed her. The further they traveled from the mountain the better she felt too. There was no gold here. Just open skies and rolling landscape.

Bilbo finally made it, huffing and puffing, his face red with exertion. "I am not made for steep climbs!" he gasped, hands on his knees as Nuil looked down at him.

"I suppose not," she murmured with a smile. "But hopefully these hills will be green again and full of life, like they used to."

Bilbo straightened and looked at the surrounding land. He could see now why Nuil was so happy at seeing this. Yes, it could have at one point been very beautiful. Bilbo could see, further south, that there was a clump of tree stumps. Burnt and black. He imagined that at one point it had been a forest. Running around the small hill they stood on was the River Running, gurgling merrily despite the ugliness of the land around it. Then his eyes landed on what he could only assume was the watch tower.

"Is that-?"

"Aye," Nuil breathed, shading her eyes so that she did not have to squint in the bright sunlight. "The southern watch tower."

"It doesn't look like much."

"That is because it is carved into the rock and not meant to draw the eyes of unwelcomed trespassers," Nuil told him. "My father took me there once," a far off look entered her eyes. She shook her head a moment later, the sadness in her eyes changing to feigned happiness. "Well, if we wish to get there before sunset, we best get going."

"But Aunnie!" Kili cried from where he sat, in his hands a piece of cram. "We only just got here!"

"Aye, our legs need a rest," Bofur said.

"Then you shall be walking in the dark, my friends," she told them. Thorin rose to his feet, and any protest they would have voiced further was silenced.

"On your feet," he told them. Nuil smiled at him and he approached her. Like Nuil, it seemed as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders the further he traveled from the mountain. The darkness in his eyes lessened and he laughed more freely with the others. His mind did not stray to the gold that was now his.

Thorin wrapped his arm around her waist and the two began to descend the hill, followed by the rest of the company.

"Do you remember what it looked like before?" she asked with a sigh.

Thorin nodded. "Aye. The rolling hills, green in the summer, the trees and the great city of Dale . . ." He looked at her, gladdened to see that she still wore the emerald necklace he had given her. It was tucked into her tunic, hidden from prying eyes but still visible from her collar. "We will restore it, and Erebor will once again be the strongest dwarven city in Middle Earth."

Nuil smiled at him, enjoying how his blue eyes brightened and the way he smiled. She wished to see him happy, ruling his people in a new era of prosperity and peace. The end was near, and they would soon be wed and the journey would be over. Nuil squeezed his hand tightly, and the two continued down the small path hand in hand.

The watch tower sat on a flat place. There were no walls, but a single door carved into the mountain side. Standing at the door there was a wide view of East, South and West. The first chamber inside was large and spacious; easily could it house more than fifty dwarves. But further in, lay a smaller room, enough for their party to sleep comfortably and in more warmth.

"The watchtower," Balin murmured entering the space. "There are several places like this around the mountain."

"Aye," said Thorin, setting his pack on the ground. "But we will rest here tonight, there is no further we can go."

Nuil set her things beside Thorin's, spreading her bedroll.

"We will rest here for the night," Thorin told them, sitting beside Nuil and pulling out his pipe. Nuil lay on her side, taking his larger hand in hers as he smoked. His eyes drifted towards her and his thumb ghosted over her fingers reassuringly. "Sleep, sanâzyung," he murmured to her. "All will be well, and you must rest."

In response she lifted their entwined hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before closing her eyes. Thorin's gaze softened further, and he leaned down to press his lips to her forehead. Bilbo watched them silently. They reminded him of his own parents. They had been so in love. And that's what Thorin and Nuil were, deeply in love.

He only hoped that it would be enough, as his mind drifted to the weight lying in his breast pocket.

Unbeknownst to the party of dwarves, a hobbit and woman a small pack of orcs roamed over the barren, rocky land. The night providing them with the darkness they needed to move about unseen. They were scouts and they could smell dwarf-flesh. Their master wanted the dwarves dead.

The leader or the little band halted his warg, lifting his nose to the air and drawing in a deep breath. They were near. But hidden well . . .

"Well?" croaked his companion drawing up beside him. Their wargs breathed heavily, the cold showing the great puffs of air leaving their mouths.

"They are near," he growled. "We will taste dwarf-flesh soon."

"Master will be pleased." His companion grunted. "And the man?"

"He will lead us to them."

Sorry for not posting sooner, me and were having a bit of a fight. FF wouldn't let me upload my chapter, so I tried the copy and paste thing, but that messed it up. It went on for a couple days before I decided that me and FF needed a break from each other because I had just about had it. Now it works though, so here's chapter 50.

Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed this! Your support really means a lot to me, and I am glad that you like the story so much, it's definitely been a long and difficult process for me so it really means a lot. We're winding down to the end as well. T.T

For those of you who remember last year, I am doing NaNoWriMo again. With everything that is going on, classes, work and preparing for finals I might not be posting often. I am very busy, more so than last year.

And if you haven't already seen it, WATCH THE NEW BOTFA TRAILER. I swear, I am just going to cry my way through that whole movie. It's going to be just emotionally taxing. Already you can see Thorin descending deeper into madness, and just the struggle he is having with everyone and everything. I know I'm a bit obsessed, but my goodness, that trailer just gives me the chills. Can't wait for December 17th!

Read and Review!

~filimeala