... And I answered. Praise be the person who asked for more. You made my weak, honey pie.
The bells clanged venomously in Cheyanne's ears as she followed behind Bilbo and the others towards the boat that was waiting to carry them to Erebor. The townspeople cheered and clapped as the company strolled through the streets towards the boat, Thorin in the lead, cloaked in royal garb and armed with a real sword.
The other dwarves all wore helmets and things similar to armor, though it was all much too big. Bilbo himself had a helmet on and was walking along proudly, head held high.
They reached the main water channel, and found the boat loaded with supplies that would take them all the way to Erebor, and then some. Bilbo glanced around at the company as the dwarves started to seat themselves on the boat.
"We're one short; Bofur isn't here," he said after a moment.
"I warned him last night he would be late if he drank too much," Cheyanne said. "It seems he didn't listen."
"If he's not here, we leave without him," said Thorin simply.
"We have too," Balin begrudgingly agreed, "if we're to find the door before nightfall. We can risk no more delays."
Hearing this, Cheyanne glanced sideways at Kili. The dwarf was grinning widely, but she could see the ghost of pain hidden in his brown eyes.
Thorin could see it as well. Earlier that morning, he had risen before her, but hadn't left the room when he did so. She had awoken with his arms wrapped around her, and to the sound of him humming to himself. If only it would continue to be like that, but Thorin hadn't spoken to her once they were out of his room. His mind was set on the task at hand, and Cheyanne knew she would only make it even more difficult if she tried to talk to him about the night before.
Kili started to get into the boat behind her, but Thorin held out his arm and stopped him.
"Not you. We must travel with speed, and you will slow us down," he told his nephew.
Kili smiled, and Cheyanne let out a breath. He thought it was a joke. "What are you talking about? I'm coming with you," he said plainly, trying to climb into the boat again.
Thorin held him back firmly. "No."
Cheyanne bumped Fili's arm, and he turned and watched this with wide eyes.
"I'm going to be there when that door is opened," Kili insisted, "when we first look upon the halls of our fathers, Thorin."
"Kili, stay here," Thorin said softly. "Rest. Join us when you're healed." He rested his hand on Kili's shoulder, but Kili's expression displayed how shocked and betrayed he felt. He turned away in silent anger as Thorin climbed onto the boat.
Oin grunted and climbed out. "I'll stay with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded," the dwarf said.
"Uncle, we grew up on tales of the mountain!" Fili exclaimed as Oin went and joined Kili. "Tales you told us. You can't take that away from him!"
"Fili," Thorin began gently, starting to put his hand on the dwarf's shoulder, but Fili pushed him away.
"I will carry him if I must!"
"One day you will be king, and you will understand," Thorin told him. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf, not even my own kin."
Fili glanced over at Kili, who was shoving Oin away. He then gave Thorin a final glare and started to climb from the boat. Thorin tried to grab him.
"Fili, don't be a fool," he said. "You belong with the company."
Fili glared at him. "I belong with my brother," he said with some finality, and finished climbing from the boat onto the dock. Cheyanne was half-tempted to get out as well, but she forced herself to remain seated.
She reached up and took Fili's hand. He tilted his head, and she gave him a half-hearted grin. "You'll join us soon," she promised. "Be careful; the Orcs are coming."
Fili nodded and squatted down so that he could kiss her hand gently as music started to play. "Keep an eye on him, Chey," he murmured, nodding towards Thorin, who was watching them. Fili's gaze drifted back to her. "He'll need you."
"Probably," she agreed with a sigh. "Be safe."
"You too," Fili responded, letting go of her hand, and walking over to join Kili and Oin. Cheyanne gazed at them, eyes blurring. She bowed her head and swallowed thickly.
Be safe, my princes. You will be the ones needed before long.
Thorin gazed at his nephews as the Master appeared up on a platform nearby, and the people clap and cheer as he waved at them with a happy grin. Cheyanne drowned out the speech he was giving and gazed towards the Lonely Mountain, which no longer looked as promising as it had once before. Now it loomed over them, dark and foreboding of bad things to come.
"… Bring good fortune to all!" the Master finished with extra exuberance, and the music picked up. The townspeople shout in excitement and wave enthusiastically as the boat begins to move.
The dwarves all stood and waved as well, some going as far as to bow to them. Bilbo was enjoying himself, grinning and laughing. Cheyanne sat with her chin in her hand, glumly staring straight ahead. She wasn't happy to be on the journey anymore, now that they were approaching the bad parts. She'd give anything to be awake in Texas and never have to return.
But, this was the choice she had made. She had to stick with it.
The journey across the lake from Lake-town to the opposite shore seemed to take hours, though it was no more than two at most. When they finally landed, Thorin stepped off of the boat, kingly grace practically coming out of his ears. The others joined him, and they all gazed up at the mountain together. The dwarves and Bilbo all grinned, but Cheyanne could only stare at it grimly
On silent command, they all started up the path that would take them up the mountain. They walked in silence as well, not speaking unless necessary. Cheyanne stayed near the rear of the party, wanting to stay away from Erebor for as long as she could. She wasn't willing to know what the gold would do to her own mind.
After they had walked for ages, Thorin stopped and gazed around momentarily. Realization lit up on his face, and he hurried to the top of the embankment they were climbing. The others all followed, and Cheyanne was the last to reach the top. The embankment gazed out over a valley, and in the center a long ways away, was what could have only been what remained of the city of Dale.
Bilbo frowned as he gazed at it. "What is this place?" he asked.
"It was once the city of Dale," replied Balin. "Now it is a ruin. The desolation of Smaug."
It took a lot of Cheyanne's willpower to keep from laughing or crying. Or both at once. Roll credits. Please.
"The sun will soon reach midday; let's find the hidden door into the mountain before it sets. This way!" Thorin gestured with his arm, and the dwarves started to head down the embankment towards Dale. Bilbo remained where he was.
"Wait… Is this the overlook?" he questioned, glancing at Cheyanne. She nodded, and he turned to Thorin. "Gandalf said to meet him here. On no account were we-"
"Do you see him?" Thorin queried, cutting the hobbit off. "We have no time to wait upon the wizard. We're on our own." He turned and followed the others, leaving Cheyanne with Bilbo. "Come."
Bilbo looked at Cheyanne in concern, and she shook her head, turning away. "Come on, Bilbo," she said quietly. "There's no point in arguing."
"But, isn't he coming?" Bilbo questioned, hurrying after her.
She merely shook her head again, and Bilbo gazed towards Dale, confusion and dismay written all over his face.
Cheyanne finally pulled herself up the last makeshift stair with a groan before she flopped over onto her back. "That was a long, long climb," she breathed, gazing upwards at the sky, which was beginning to turn orange as the sun started to set to the west.
"This has to be it," Thorin said. Cheyanne rolled over and up onto her knees. The dwarf was gazing at a large rock wall. "The hidden door." He turned and faced the company just as Cheyanne made her way over to them. "Let all those who doubted us rue this day!" he shouted, holding up his key in triumph.
The others cheer, and Cheyanne raised her fist in a half-assed attempt to appear happy.
"Right," Dwalin said as the cheering died away. "We have our key, which means that somewhere, there is a keyhole."
He stepped up to the wall, and, with his fingers, starts to search for such a hole. Thorin went the opposite direction, and walked to the edge of the clearing they were in and stared out at the setting sun.
"The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon a keyhole," he breathed emphatically.
He turned back around and frowned when he saw Dwalin hadn't discovered anything. "Nori," he commanded, nodding to the wall.
The dwarf, who had a bit of a reputation as a thief, if Cheyanne could remember correctly, approached the wall and started to tap against it with a spoon, looking for hollow places. Dwalin went as far as to push against the wall with a grunt. The sun sank lower behind them.
"We're losing the light," Thorin said, his voice starting to give away his panic.
"Come on!" Dwalin strained against the rock again before he growled and kicked it.
"Be quiet!" Nori commanded. "I can't hear when you're thumping like that."
"I can't find it…" Dwalin said slowly, stepping backwards. "It's not here!" He shifted his gaze towards Cheyanne. "It's not here."
As some of the others began to desperately beat against the stone with their weapons, Cheyanne walked away and sat down on a rock with a sigh, absentmindedly scratching at a bug bite on her neck. The sun faded away completely just as she dropped her hand, and Thorin almost dropped his key.
"No." He stumbled forward and stared down at the map, like he could read it. "The last light of Durin's Day will shine up the keyhole." He looked up at the others, eyes wide with sadness. "That's what it says." The dwarves all groan and mutter in anger and disappointment. Thorin stared at Cheyanne, grief stricken. "What did we miss?"
She didn't respond, dropping her gaze to the ground. She glanced up only when she couldn't feel Thorin's eyes on her anymore, and watched him walk over to Balin. "What did we miss, Balin?" he repeated, voice tearful.
"We've lost the light," the older dwarf answered with a shake of his head. "There's no more to be done. We had but one chance."
"You said it would open!" Gloin shouted, glaring at Cheyanne from where he stood with the other dwarves, who all had their heads bowed in dismay.
"It will," Cheyanne told him earnestly, but she didn't try to convince them otherwise. Perhaps if they waited long enough, everything would change…
"Come away," Balin said, sighing sadly. "It's… It's over."
The dwarves all turn and started to walk back towards the stairs they had used to get up. Bilbo hurried after them, but only as far as the stairs. "Wait a minute!"
Gloin turned away from Cheyanne and shifted his gaze to the hobbit. "You wait," he muttered under his breath before following his kin.
"Where are they going?" Bilbo asked Cheyanne in desperation. "Why aren't you stopping them?" She bowed her head, and Bilbo shouted after the dwarves: "You can't give up now!"
Cheyanne heard Thorin drop his key, and the metal clacked against the stone as it fell to the ground. "Thorin," Bilbo said weakly, "you can't give up now."
Thorin walked past Cheyanne, shaking his head disappointedly at her as he did so. The king didn't look so royal now; his face was taunt with depression, and he looked like he was on the verge of crying. He disappeared down the stairs, and Cheyanne turned her attention to Bilbo.
He was pacing around in circles, deep in thought. "Stand by the gray stone…" He stood next to the wall. "… When the thrush… Knocks." He spun around, but there was no thrush in sight. "The setting sun, and the last light of Durin's Day will shine. The last… The last light…" He trailed off and looked at Cheyanne in question.
She shifted on the stone she was sitting on top of just as there's a clacking sound from nearby. Both she and Bilbo lifted their heads and saw a small brown thrush hitting a snail shell against the gray wall Bilbo was next to.
A beam of light went past Cheyanne's head and hit the wall. Bilbo followed its movement as the thrush fluttered away before he laughed and pointed happily, looking over at Cheyanne in joy. "The last light!" he exclaimed.
The light seemed to illuminate the stone from inside out, and it rested on a particular hole that seemed so obvious now that it was lit up by a beam of light. Bilbo hurried to the edge of the ledge and called out to the dwarves: "The keyhole! Come back! Come back! It's the light of the moon, the last moon of autumn!" He chuckled and studied the ground closely.
"Where's th- Where's the key?" he asked himself, spinning around in a circle. "It- It was here, wasn't it? It was just here. I saw it… Where did it- Oh!" His foot knocked against the key, and it slid over the ground in Cheyanne's direction. She half-heartedly stopped it with her foot just before it goes off the edge and picked it up.
It's immediately taken from her by Thorin, who gave her a strange look and held the key up, studying it. The other dwarves were with him, and they grinned warmly at Bilbo, who was smiling at what he'd discovered.
Slowly, Thorin stepped up to the wall and stuck the key into the hole the moonbeam had exposed. He turned it, and with a metal clunk, inner mechanisms started to spin. Thorin reached forward with both hands and pushed against the wall. It swung inwards, revealing a dark passage that led into the tunnel. The dwarves all gape at it in shock.
"Erebor," Thorin said breathily.
"Thorin-" Balin sounded like he was about to cry. The younger dwarf rested a hand on his shoulder before stepping into the tunnel, hand caressing the wall.
"I know these walls," he murmured, half to himself and half to the others. "These walls, this stone. You remember it, Balin. Chambers filled with golden light."
"I remember," agreed Balin, stepping into the tunnel after him. The other dwarves and Bilbo all step into the passage slowly. Cheyanne remained outside the mountain, not willing to go in.
"Herein lies the seventh kingdom of Durin's Folk," Gloin read from an inscription on the carving she knew was above the secret door. "May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home."
"The throne of the king," Balin explained for Bilbo, who was gazing upwards in curiosity.
"And that thing above it?" Bilbo asked. "Is that-?"
"The Arkenstone," Balin finished. "And that-" he pointed upwards, "- is why you are here, Master Burglar."
Bilbo glanced at Cheyanne. She gave him a grin, but he gave her a frown in response, though it was one of grim determination. Cheyanne's smile fell, and she turned away, looking out from the ledge towards Dale in the distance, and Lake-town further beyond it.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Thorin demanded from behind her.
She didn't turn around to face him. "It was Bilbo's job to discover the truth, not mine," she responded quietly. "I wasn't about to steal the spotlight from him."
Thorin stepped up next to her, and she saw that he wasn't angry. Instead, there was a smile in his eyes. "Steal the spotlight? What in Durin's name is a spotlight?" he teased.
She gave him a half-hearted grin that she couldn't keep from happening. "The same thing that hit your keyhole a few minutes ago."
Thorin chuckled in response to this, and he gestured towards Erebor. "Are you going to see Bilbo off?" he asked her.
She flinched slightly at hearing how casually he said it, as though it was everyday business sending hobbits into mountains to find the thing that was going to ruin everything.
All the same, she forced a smile. "Of course." She slowly approached the secret entrance and stopped. She could almost feel the treasure in the darkness within. It was reaching out to her, caressing her with a soft, cold touch. Come to us, it whispered. We are here. We are waiting.
A flash of fire burned behind her eyes, and Cheyanne blinked. She swore she'd just seen Sauron in the flames. Her breathing had suddenly turned very ragged and hoarse. She staggered away from the mountain, shaking her head. "No."
"No?" Thorin gently took her shoulders so she wouldn't fall, and he gazed at her in concern. "What is the matter?"
"I-I can't. Not… No. I can't go in there." She shook her head desperately, unable to voice anything more. The whispers echoed in her mind, bidding her to come and see the treasure for herself. It sounded so warm and welcoming, and yet cold and lonely at the same time, just like fire itself.
When you have a fire, it has to burn out sometime, and it leaves nothing behind but cold remains. Ash. That's what Smaug would be leaving behind when he finally left Erebor; cold and empty gold that served no purpose, just like ash.
Cheyanne backed away from Thorin, gazing at him with wide eyes. "Don't make me go in there, Thorin," she whispered tearfully. "Please."
Thorin shook his head. "Of course I won't make you. It's your choice."
A small sense of relief went through her, but it barely lifted the heavy weight of fear that still sat inside her chest. Fire and darkness were hand in hand in this case; the fire came and went, and darkness would fall thickly over everything.
Fire and ash.
Heat and then cold.
Life, then death.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
What am I here for?
Considering that this was a short chapter, I'll probably still upload one on Monday. But... Eh. Cheyanne, boo-boo. What's going on in your head, hon?