One Ring to troll them all

Thorin

Thorin had grown weary of elves to last a lifetime.

Admittedly, Rivendell had not been as bad as he had expected, but the looks some elves sometimes threw them were nothing short of insulting.

That is why he felt perfectly justified when they used one of the fountains to wash themselves. No, it was not petty, regardless of Gandalf's opinion on the matter. The wizard could keep his thoughts to himself. Thorin had no interest in anything unrelated to their quest.

On another note, Thorin would never have expected Kael - or was it Mairon now? Why did that name sound so familiar, anyway? - to be a wizard, though he was admittedly odd enough to be one. Wizards and their ways were mysterious, indeed.

It was strange that Mairon did not look as old as the others, but Thorin guessed that there must be different types of wizards. He did not care as long as Mairon could help them on their quest - at least he was not an elf.

After reluctantly showing Elrond the map to the Lonely Mountain and learning about the moon runes and the day they could enter said mountain, Thorin decided it was time to go, taking advantage of the not-so-secret meeting Gandalf thought he was successfully keeping from them.

He brushed off Bilbo's attempts to convince him to wait for Mairon and Gandalf, because he was sure that if they waited, someone would try to stop them. No, it was better this way.

They only needed to cross the Misty Mountains, and then, with a bit of luck, they could take a straight path to Erebor.

Of course, it was not until they reached the Misty Mountains, under a heavy deluge while trying not to fall during the stone giants' fight, that Thorin realized how naive and hopeful his thinking had been. He should have expected something like this to happen.

They survived the stone giants, at least, but they had another problem.

They lost their burglar. Bilbo Baggins fell down the mountain, and the only thing Thorin could do was stare into the darkness below them amidst the others' horrified and shocked cries of denial.

"Bilbo!"

"Our burglar! Our burglar fell!"

"Oh, Mr. Bo-Baggins! Brother, what do we do?!"

"Oh... oh, no. I should have been faster. I should have been faster!"

"Perhaps he is fine, right?" Fili asked Thorin with a desperate look. "Uncle? I was not the only one who saw that, was I? There was truly a giant bird that flew down after Bilbo?"

Thorin shook his head slowly, his eyes still fixed on the place where Bilbo had disappeared.

"I do not know, Fili," he answered, his voice rough. "We cannot know if... if it was going to save him or..."

Fili's gaze grew horrified, and he looked nauseous at the image Thorin was painting.

"But perhaps... perhaps it meant to save him..." Bofur, who had overheard their conversation, trailed off as he looked at them and their grim expressions. "Bilbo cannot be gone... right?"

"Let it go, lad," Balin said softly, suspiciously misty-eyed - or maybe that was the rainwater. Thorin could not be sure. "There was nothing we could have done. He's gone."

Bofur swallowed and looked down with a quick nod. "Aye. I was just... if we had..."

Balin patted his shoulder and nodded grimly. "I know, lad. I know."

Thorin took a deep breath and gathered himself. It was unfortunate that their burglar was gone, but they could not stay there.

It was not safe.