✓GLITTER AND GOLD⁰ ━ the hobbit

eleven.

11. | A BALLAD TO THOSE WITH BROKEN HEARTS...

Thorin drinks away quite happily, but I can see that he never allows himself to get too drunk. Controlled, as always; measured. As he sees me, he smiles slightly, gesturing for me to join him, as I do.

I take a large gulp of my ale, knowing I probably shouldn't have this conversation sober, and then I take a seat beside him, as we stare into the fire contemplatively.

Thorin is the first to speak. "Do you truly think it is wrong for me to enter the mountain?"

I sigh, taking another gulp. "I don't think it's wrong for you to go back, I just think that you shouldn't risk waking the dragon. Look at these people! Their houses are wood, Thorin."

He doesn't spare me a glance as he raises his cup, but doesn't drink. "My people have no home."

"And look how happy they are, anyway." I whisper, wondering if I'm only making Thorin angrier.

"What changed your mind? You had no problem with the quest before."

It's a fair question, and I'm embarrassed to admit it. I'm not a particularly strong-willed person, and easily manipulated, but I can't help but to think that I haven't been manipulated here. These are my own thoughts, not the loosened words of some politician. "I heard your story, about the dragon. I didn't realise- I didn't realise how many people's lives could be at risk because of what we're doing."

He shakes his head, laughing a little. "Those are Thranduil's words, not yours."

I'm shocked, flabbergasted. "Thranduil didn't say-"

"He's gotten into your head." He takes another drink. "Did you make a deal with him?" I shake my head, he laughs. "Liar."

I blush, hurt. "I'm not!"

"Yes." He says, drinking. "Yes, you are."

He stands, turning away like it's the end of the conversation. The thought of being so casually dismissed by him books my blood, so I grab his arm, turning him. He loses his temper. "I don't want you leaving with us tomorrow. I don't want you helping us the morning after. I don't want to ever see you again." He growls, shoving me back a little. "I don't ever want to see you again, you lying, traitorous, filth."

I flinch, resolving not to let him see how much his words hurt. "Thorin, please, don't-"

I turn to grab his arm again, but he grips my wrist, so hard it will likely leave a bruise. "Leave."

I gasp, tears stinging my eyes as he glares at me. Everyone else is too busy partying to notice. "Thorin-"

"Leave!" He hisses, slightly louder, as he turns and strides away, leaving me behind.

I don't bother to meet the eyes of any other dwarves as n stumble out of the building, clutching myself tightly. I have nowhere to go, now, so I stumble as best I can to the only other person I know here- Bard.

The moment he sees me, he means to turn away, but by now my tears have started to fall, and he's a good man. He lets me in, gives me a blanket, and lets me cry myself to sleep.

By the morning, Bard is awake, and so are his children. I'm embarrassed, as I stand from the floor, and walk over to their table. "I'm done with dwarves," Bard says, giving me a meaningful look.

I laugh a little. "Don't worry, so am I. I leave today."

"Where will you go?" Sigrid asks, curious.

"Rivendell," I sigh, remembering those beautiful soft melodies and loving people. Of all the places I've seen, Rivendell takes the crown, and I would gladly see it again.