That's Another Story For Later

One Last Time

*Alright... this one is a little longer, which I owe you. Sorry this is so long, but thank you again for sticking with it! Please continue to read, comment, vote and share! Ciao!*

I followed Thorin to the room of the golden floor. I hid behind a pillar ten feet away, and watched. He stood in the center and I heard voices swirling in his mind. They were people who had spoken, and what he himself had said. They swirled in his head, clearly consuming his mind.

"You sit here... with a crown upon your head..." Dwalin started.

"You are lesser now than you have ever been." I finished. I started upon hearing my own voice.

"Do you not realize who you have become? You resorted to hurting someone for something so stupid." Kili's sad voice blew through for a moment.

"Uncle! How could you do this?" Fili shouted.

"If this is what you do to someone who is faithful, then I may not follow you." Dwalin's voice seemed to pierce through more than most. Granted, they were best friends.

"But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost..." Thorin's own maddened voice joined. They all swirled around one after another, taking a distorted tone similar to when one is hallucinating, much like Mirkwood.

"... a sickness lies upon that treasure." Balin.

"... the blind ambition of a mountain-king..." Bard. Interesting that Bard had some impact on him.

"AM I NOT THE KING?" Himself. "... this gold... is ours... and ours alone..."

"Treasure..." Balin again. The voices blurred together, distorting themselves every word.

"I will not part with a single coin..." I heard another voice connected with his, but much deeper and scratchier. It hit me. Smaug had said it too. I doubt he heard Smaug, but I know I didn't mistake that voice. No wonder Bilbo was so concerned when he said that.

"... he could not see beyond his own desire..." Bard again.

"Come back to your nephews, your company..." It was me... "Where are you, Thorin Oakenshield?! Where are you when we need you most?!" I screamed in his mind. It rang true, no alterations to the voice.

"... as if I was some lowly dwarf lord." He said again.

"Where are you, Thorin? Because I cannot find you in the man standing in front of me..." I trailed off. It echoed in his mind. "Cannot find you... man... standing... front of me... Where... where... where..."

"Oakenshield..." The name resonated once again.

"If you say that treasure cannot be counted in lost lives, then you are worth the cheapest life, not even one measly gold piece in your entire treasure hoard! Instead, you are a pathetic piece of life, and I was once proud to call you king." I hadn't realized what I said make any impact. It seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

"A sickness that drove your grandfather mad..." Balin.

"Does any of this ring a bell in your diseased mind?!"

"Oakenshield." There it was again.

"This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror..." Dwalin said in his once proud voice, just a few days ago.

"... I am not my grandfather... my grandfather." Himself.

"You are the heir to the throne of Durin..." Gandalf.

"They are dying out there." Dwalin

"They are dying because of you!" I shouted, but this one was like I was hearing underwater almost.