The Lonely Mountain [1]

The Price to Pay

"Since when do we forsake our own people?" Dwalin asked as he approached Thorin sat on the throne. "Thorin, they are dying out there."

"There are halls beneath halls in this mountain. Places we could fortify, shore up make safe." Thorin said, leaning forward slightly. There was a mad look in his eye. He stood abruptly. "Yes. Yes, that is it. We must move the gold further underground, to safety."

"Did you not hear me?!" Dwalin called as Thorin walked away. "Dain is surrounded. They're being slaughtered, Thorin."

Thorin glanced around absentmindedly. "Many die in war. Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend."

"You sit here in these vast halls with a crown upon your head, and yet you are lesser now than you have ever been." Dwalin said with tears in his eyes.

"DO not speak to me as if I were some lowly dwarf lord, as if I were still... Thorin... Oakenshield." Thorin's voice broke and he did not look at Dwalin. "I am your king!" He swung his sword but it nearly threw him off balance.

Dwalin stepped forward. "You were always my king. You used to know that once. You cannot see what you have become."

"Go." Thorin muttered looking at the floor. "Get out. Before I kill you."

Dwalin turned and left.

Thorin stumbled through the great halls with words from his lost allies and friends running through his mind. As he walked back out onto the solidified gold that they had tried to drown Smaug in, he believed he saw the dragon winding underneath the surface. He found himself sinking into the gold, unable to escape as it consumed him.

Thorin flung his crown across the room with a look of sheer horror on his face. He was himself again, and know he knew what he must do.