Dragon Sickness

Thorin Oakenshield had gone completely and utterly mad.

This much was obvious to an untrained eye, to one who hadn't been with them on the journey, or to one who had no knowledge of the power of a gold that had been tainted with the greed of a dragon - not just any dragon, either; this gold had been the bedspread for the one and only Smaug the Terrible. Smaug had been an especially powerful and greedy lizard, though that had been his downfall, after all, as it was for most fire drakes. Fili, in his distracted celebration of Smaug's demise, had overlooked the gradual madness of his uncle for a considerable amount of time, if one considers a few days to be considerable. Which, when trapped with only your kin inside a mountainside, it is. The derangement had grown undeniable, however, and not even the youngest and least seasoned of the group, Ori, was able to deny what seemed to be growing within the group's leader's vulnerable mind.

After plenty of hours of contemplation and conversation with the elders of the group, it had become quite plain: Thorin Oakenshield had gone completely mad. It wasn't entirely his fault, though. It was the gold's. More specifically - it was the sickness laid upon the gold by none other than Smaug. Dragon Sickness was a terrible, incurable disease that many a great dwarf lord had fallen victim to; it was agony to watch his uncle be enraptured in the same spell, and yet any efforts he put forth to cease the disease seemed futile.

One might assume that this was nothing compared to witnessing the death of Fili's own father - being forced to hear the wretched screams as he covered his younger brothers' ears with his hands, rather than spare himself the torture. However, this was nearly worse. At least with his father it had been within a matter of seconds, whereas this death was a death of nobility, of everything that made his uncle Thorin Oakenshield, the brave and selfless warrior who looked for nothing more than a loyal heart and a steady faith; it was a death that was drawn out, almost gradual. All who knew Thorin suffered, of course, but out of the group, Fili and Balin (an old friend and adviser of Thorin's) seemed to be the most affected, seeing as how the two of them were the closest and more revered to Thorin of the Company (with the exception of their burglar, Master Baggins, who seemed to have found a way to gain Thorin's trust to a near marital extent). Yes, there was no doubting it, Thorin had caught a terrible case of the Dragon Sickness, and no protests made against his unwise decisions and judgements could wake him from the wretched curse.

If Fili had begun to have any fear about the rule of Thorin before the sickness had set in, they had now been multiplied tenfold, and his unjust response to the call for his word from the men was no consolation. Though it had been not yet explicitly stated, the company anticipated and attack from the elves or men, if not both, within the next few days; there was no way that a man of such experience, as Thranduil was, would turn a blind eye to the self proclaimed 'King Under the Mountain' going back on his word, a promise that had been made clear to all in Laketown. All had been present and accounted for - even Kili, who, at the time, was still falling ill to the poison arrow - and therefore could be held accountable for also breaking their word, not to mention remaining idle at the time when their influence was most needed. The gold was rightfully Thorin's - it was his earned inheritance as son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain - however, since he had promised riches to the men of Laketown, they now held a claim over a share of the jewels that overflowed the great halls of Erebor, and though the elves of Greenwood (referred to more often in those days as 'Mirkwood', because of the murky [mirk being an alternative spelling] curse which seemed to foretell gloom and doom and nothing more) had been promised no such thing, there were jewels that belonged to the royalty of their kin and they wished to reclaim them.

Naturally, being next in line for the throne of Durin's folk (he was the eldest relation that Thorin had, and though he was merely a nephew, his claim was directly after Thorin's), eyes of hope, despair even, among the company turned to Fili, despite his younger brother being the more rebellious spirit of the two. Fili had never been one to go against what he was instructed - especially so when the instructions were that of his kin - from a leader unless he thought the rule was being misused grossly. Though, at the time, it was obvious to him and all others in their company that Thorin was abusing any privileges he'd received in the short time that he'd held reign over the riches of Erebor, all who dared consider approaching him hesitated, Fili most of all. Explanations set aside, the company of 13 were perturbed to no at how powerful such dragon sickness was, especially on such a noble dwarf such as their leader, the Thorin Oakenshield, that had once upon a lullaby fought for kin and arms with all he'd left to give, though it wasn't much. This wasn't the same Thorin Oakenshield that Fili had followed around like a puppy around the market-place, begging to help in his selling of goods and wares, but of whom denied him in fear of corruption. In no way was this dwarf akin to Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf who wished for nothing more than loyalty and a willing heart in his small company, and who would've given himself in less than a heartbeat if it meant the freedom of those he loved. No, that Thorin Oakenshield had disappeared with the final wisp of fire from Smaug the Horrendous' scaled lungs.

Thorin Oakenshield was gone. He'd been replaced by the shell of a dwarf he'd once been, leaving behind a raging storm of lies and mistrust between himself and everybody else. Yes, it had seemed, after all, that Thorin Oakenshield had gone completely mad - the company all concluded as such, with the consent of Fili and Balin, the latter of which being the eldest and wisest of the group.

There was no debating whether or not Thorin had gone insane - and yet, when Fili looked down upon the vast treasures at his feet, as he waded through them in search of the heart of the mountain, he thought, perhaps, that Thorin was right in believing all of this gold belonged to them. Why should they share it with the greedy people of Laketown? They held no power over the line of Durin's folk. And the elves! They were nothing more than snivelling good-for-nothing wretches who only called out when it was convenient for them.

So why, after all should they have to share in their bounty? The gold was precious to the last jewel. It was theirs, and theirs alone. Nothing could measure to the satisfaction of wealth - it was a security blanket that could gain anything; one wouldn't need such trivial things as love or trust when one had wealth. Jewels could buy him love, gold alliances. After his uncle was gone and the throne was his, Fili could have complete control of all the land, and it was all due to the plentiful shining gems that littered the great halls. Treasure could bring him any happiness that he needed.

Fili Durin had gone completely and utterly mad.