39

"Auntie? What's wrong?"

Talia and her nephews were journeying to the mountain, now nearly halfway across the lake. They had just passed the ruined town, and all that surrounded them was open water and peaceful silence. She sat impatiently in the middle of the barge as the boys rowed on, bouncing her leg in anxiety.

"I'm fine, Fili."

"No, you're not. If it's your injuries, I'll stop this boat right now—"

"I told you before, it's not that." Talia sighed. She was being truthful, but it was hard to convince them of that when she couldn't talk about what actually bothered her. "Just keep rowing."

However, the boys declared that they wanted to take a look at her injuries immediately, although she was perfectly content to wait. It was understandable, for her dislocated shoulder and probably broken ankle weren't about to heal themselves, but she knew her physical state was in just as much danger as Thorin's mentality. She had left him alone in Erebor, with the treasure hoard that had taken his grandfather's sanity and threatened his own. If he was not the same as before, then her oath to his family would be broken.

"Auntie, let us help you. Erebor can wait."

"He's right. Uncle would want to see you healed."

"It's not about my wellbeing, Kili—it's about his. I must get to him, for I fear there's little time left."

"Time for what?"

Talia could only glance at her nephews. "If I am right, and if we do not hurry, Thorin is in grave danger. For now, let's leave it at that."

"Fine." Fili dropped his oars, causing Kili to do the same. "If you're going to be vague, then you owe us the right to tend to you."

Talia groaned. "It's only for your own good—"

"It always is, isn't it?" Kili rebuked, clambering over to her. He was happy to look after his aunt, since he needed something to take his mind off Tauriel. "Come on. Let's look at that shoulder."

As she looked between the two princes, she knew she would have to acquiesce. Sighing, she shrugged off her fur coat and allowed the boys to peek at her shoulder.

"We're going to have to reset it." Fili grimaced, watching Kili gag at the awkward angle.

She rolled her eyes at the latter. "Have you ever done it before?"

"No."

"You'll be fine." Talia assured them, moving closer. "One firm pull to get it back into place. Don't tell me when; it'll only be more—"

A sickening CRACK sounded over the open water, causing the nephews to flinch and their aunt to sigh in relief. It was a sharp pain, but that meant they had done it correctly. She would never admit it, but she was grateful that they had insisted on looking after her. Their persistence warmed her heart.

"Good. Thank you."

Fili and Kili exchanged a glance, seeing no sign of hurt in her eyes.

"How are you so..."

"Calm?" She offered. "I've lived a long life before this quest. I am no stranger to pain."

A grave silence fell over them, guilt encasing her nephews. Sometimes, her smile shone so bright that they forgot she had been captive for over half of her life. They wished they hadn't been so foolish, but Talia could offer them no words of comfort. She knew that if she tried, whatever peace she gave them would be a lie.

Instead, she smiled gently. "Come on. I'll look at my foot while you row."

So the boys pushed on, taking up their oars as Talia made a makeshift brace. They reached the shore in record time, for they were all anxious to return to the mountain, and abandoned the barge in their pursuit. After practically hauling their aunt through Dale, they reached the front gate. Fili and Kili stepped inside tentatively, their arms tightly wound around Talia's waist to support her.

"Hello?" Kili called, seeing no one standing guard. Though the nephews could not understand it, Talia knew why.

"They must be in the hoard."

"The what?"

Talia could only give Fili a grave look. "You'll see. Come on."

They continued through Erebor, taking the time to gaze upon their city. Though the boys had seen it before when they ran from Smaug, they hadn't been able to really see it. Long had their princely titles been a joke to them, for their lives in the Blue Mountains were far from that of royalty. Now that they had reclaimed Erebor, they could tell that would change.

Once they reached the lower levels, they were greeted with a huffing and puffing hobbit. "Wait! Wait!" He gasped, holding his hands out to stop them.

"Bilbo?" Talia asked.

But the hobbit breezed over her, still set on turning the dwarves around. "Stop! Stop! Stop! You need to leave. We all need to leave."

"Bilbo!" Her raised voice caused all attention to turn back to her. "Elaborate, please."

Although she had snapped the hobbit out of his frenzy, he was still distracted. "Talia." He sighed, happy to see her. Then, he saw all the scrapes and bruises that littered her body. "Are you alright?"

"It can wait. What's wrong?"

The hobbit could only repeat his prior message, for the excitement of racing through Erebor was still coursing through his veins. "We need to leave."

"We only just got here." Kili stated, confused.

Bilbo glanced from him to the Queen. "I tried talking to him, but he won't listen."

"What do you mean, Bilbo? Who?" Fili said, though he feared he knew the answer.

"Thorin!" Bilbo suddenly remembered himself, reducing his voice to a whisper. "Thorin. He's been down there for days. He doesn't sleep, he barely eats. He's not been himself, not at all. It's this place. I think a sickness lies upon it."

"A sickness? What kind of sickness?"

Then, Fili noticed something other than the hobbit, stepping away from his brother to gaze upon it. Talia went to pull him back, but she was much too weak from the journey to the mountain. She stumbled, allowing Kili to steady her.

"Fili?" Although the hobbit was concerned about Talia, he had to stop the prince first. "Fili!"

The three of them followed his gaze, their eyes wide at what they saw. Gold covered the floor in copious amounts, reflecting a hazy yellow on the walls and their skin. Gems, jewels, and other precious items also littered the hoard, but the sheer size of it alone was enough to impress them. Mountains and mountains of ore threatened to swallow it's onlookers whole. Although Smaug had previously been the only one to occupy the space, the room could easily fit fifteen dragons. Talia was in awe at the sight before her; the last time she had been in the vault was centuries ago, when she and her husband had watched his grandfather go mad.

Now, a new figure was lost in the gold.

Thorin paced at the base of the treasure, taking in the mounds of riches before him. He wore new robes, ones fit for an ostentatious King that seemed to swallow him. A heavy crown sat atop his head, which added to the illusion that he was drowning in decoration. His once beautiful blue eyes were clouded, his irises a terrible grey. He walked along, seeing nothing but the grandeur before him and ever so satisfied that it was only his to enjoy.

"Gold." He whispered. "Gold beyond measure... beyond sorrow, and grief."

"No." Talia gasped, her eyes stemming with tears. He had become what they both feared, what he swore he would fight against.

That was when Thorin noticed his company. "Behold the great treasure hoard of Thror!"

He threw an enormous ruby to Fili, who caught it and marveled at it's size. The prince had never seen such a prize in his life, let alone one that was worth so much. What shocked him more was how unimportant it seemed in the midst of it all, for one gem was nothing in comparison to the treasure's entirety.

"Now, you have a proper introduction to your homeland." Thorin continued. His voice was low, thick with lust. "Welcome, my sister's sons, to the Kingdom of Erebor."

...

Talia awoke with a start, sitting up before remembering the ache in her ribs. Though she had been well taken care of since she had arrived, her fall had been a nasty one.

During her slumber in the dusty room, she had been dreaming—rather, she had been reliving a nightmare. All she could think about was dragon fire, from both Dale and Lake-Town. It had been the first time she had slept in days, between Smaug and the ruin of Lake-Town. Yet, despite her exhaustion, she had never felt more restless.

Talia swung her feet over the bed, pulling on her boots and coat. She had already bathed, but now she needed to tend to her wounds per Oin's instruction. Though she was somewhat versed in the philosophy of healing from her mother, she trusted the elder dwarf to look after her more so than she did herself. She applied generous amounts of the salve he had given her to the cuts on her face before grabbing Bilbo's walking stick, which he had donated to be her makeshift crutch until they found something better. Then, she journeyed out of her room and down to the hoard.

"Any sign of it?"

"Nothing here."

She listened to Ori corroborate Bifur's statement before rounding the corner of the vault. Eavesdropping hadn't shone any light on their intentions; Talia already knew what Thorin had put them up to in her absence.

"Keep searching!" Thorin barked, overlooking the Company. The dwarves sifted through the gold piles, barely making a dent in the enormity that was Thror's treasure.

Talia leaned on a column behind him, choosing to remain in the shadows to survey her surroundings. They hadn't spoken yet, and for the time being, she preferred to keep it that way. She wasn't sure what she would say if they did. Watching him fall deeper into the broken shell of a King was breaking her, too.

"That jewel could be anywhere."

"The Arkenstone is in these halls." Thorin brushed Dwalin's comment aside. "Find it!"

Dwalin, who had not been as close to Thror as Talia had, didn't understand the change in Thorin. At such an early stage, it was hard for him to even recognize it. So the dwarf remained loyal to his King, urging the Company onward. "You heard him. Keep looking."

"All of you! No one rests until it is found!"

The Company returned to their business, sighing heavily as they looked through the gold. Then, Talia stepped forward, gasping at the pain that shot up her bad foot. Thorin turned suddenly at the sound, not having realized there was someone behind him.

"Talia."

Before, hearing him say her name had been music to her ears. It was a melody she couldn't get rid of, whether he was near or far. Now, he said it without any emotion, for there was a disconnect between the man he was and the man she knew. He was distant, for his soul was buried underneath layers of infection.

She did not speak. Her lip began to tremble at the grey cloud in his eyes, but he couldn't see this. Instead, he took in the obvious, looking at her bruised and battered body.

"What happened to you?"

"A dragon." Talia forced out. Her voice was steady, but she knew it wouldn't last.

"Is he dead?"

Talia nodded, searching his eyes desperately. It was as if he knew no life outside of this gold, outside of the vault. How could he have forgotten about a dragon?

"Good. Smaug the Terrible can hunt this treasure no longer. The gold is finally returned to it's rightful owner."

Talia watched as Bilbo walked past, slipping by the King unnoticed. From her viewpoint, she could see him sit at the far end of the hall, though the King could not.

"The kingdom?"

Meanwhile, Bilbo drifted off into deep though down the hall, remembering his encounter with the dragon. He took the Arkenstone out of his pocket, gazing at the cosmos within. The action was discreet, unbeknownst to all the dwarves—all but Talia.

Bilbo could recall Smaug's words as clear as day. I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer. Smaug had said. Watch it destroy him. Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad.

Thorin swiveled around to face her, acting as if Talia had spoke blasphemy.

"The King."

A long pause occurred before either of them spoke again. "The dragon may be dead, but he still wreaked havoc on Lake-Town." Talia said, deciding to change the subject.

"What of it?"

"What of it?" Talia scoffed, stepping closer with the support of Bilbo's walking stick. "They are people, Thorin. They suffer, just like we did. Lake-Town may not have been the most... pleasant place we journeyed to, but they fed us, clothed us. Their hospitality is the only reason we were able to reclaim this mountain."

"The reason we reclaimed this mountain was this quest." Thorin warned, his heavy boots echoing on the stone floor. All of the Company looked to them now, exchanging weary glances at the argument ensuing.

"At what cost? The lives of countless others?" She challenged, meeting his intense stare. "Thorin, I will always be on your side. You know that. But this quest has unfolded in an unforetold manner, one that I cannot support."

"It doesn't matter what you support, because it is done." Thorin snapped, tilting his head mockingly. "Did you think the journey to Erebor would be seamless? Perfect?"

"No—"

"Then why must you act so foolish?!"

Talia's chest heaved as she stared back, both in anger and sadness. The Company held their breath. Even Bilbo looked up from the Arkenstone, pocketing it as soon as he heard raised voices.

"If you equate foolishness to concern regarding life, then you are far from fit to be King."

Thorin paused, letting her words echo through the halls. She knew he wasn't considering their value, for he was too far gone to understand that. He was thinking of a way to put her in her place; that is, whatever place he deemed her worthy of.

She would bet all of the gold in the room that it was below his treasure.

"You know nothing of being King." He snarled, storming forward and grabbing her chin. "You know absolutely nothing."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she ignored the pain of his grip and that of her heart. She would stare him in the eyes as he destroyed her. She would take it like a Queen.

"This treasure, this gold, is worth every single life that it took to take it back. This is the King's birthright—my birthright. This is my legacy, which I must defend. You know nothing of the sort. Your titles are that of a ruined town that died long ago. Your mother and father are dead, all because of their weakness in defending their child from dragon fire. You have no legacy. You are nothing."

Talia cried out as he tossed her aside, sending her into the wall behind her. Fili and Kili raced over, helping her up and shooting stern looks toward their Uncle. But before they could stand up to him, before they said something he would make them regret, Talia shoved past them. She strode towards the King, her love. Her One.

"You forget that I am your Queen." She whispered, bringing her hand to his cheek. When he attempted to push it away, she grabbed his fist and held it firm, restricting his movements. "Once, there were things more important to you than gold. It'd do you best to stay this madness and remember that." She continued, her voice low and firm. "Or..."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll find a way to make you remember."

She dropped her hand from his face, letting it hang limply at her side. Her words were soft-spoken, but her threats were far from idle. She backed away slowly, her tears slowing to a stop as she walked out of the vault and further into the mountain.

"What did you just do?" Fili called after her, his brother following close behind.

"I put the Mad King in his place." She snapped, whipping around and halting them in their tracks. "My mother once told me that if you play with fire, you'll get burned. But so help me Mahal, even if I have to suffer through burns as thick as my fist, I will. I will get my husband back. No matter what it costs me."

She turned suddenly, walking as briskly as she could in spite of her injuries. Her nephews could only watch her go, knowing she needed to be alone. Thorin's insanity was taking a toll on everyone, but it was destroying her—as plain as day.

...

"It is here in these halls, I know it."

"We have searched and searched."

"Not well enough."

"Thorin, we all would see the stone returned." Dwalin reasoned, trying to reach his friend and King.

"And yet it's still not found!"

Thorin's voice silenced the Company as they rummaged through the pantry, ceasing their hunt for food. He had allowed them a quick break to eat, but he allowed little else. They averted their gaze from his as they exchanged weary looks, wondering who would speak next.

"Do you doubt the loyalty of anyone here?" Balin offered, speaking the words with an irony that suggested how outrageous they were.

But Thorin did not think them so far-fetched. He turned to his advisor, accepting Balin's council for the first time since the dragon had been killed.

"The Arkenstone is the birthright of our people." He continued, trying to persuade Thorin of the Company's altruism.

Still, he was not convinced. "It is the King's jewel. Am I not the King?!"

The silence hovered in the air, nearly suffocating the dwarves. Talia exhaled, bowing her head to hide her face. Bilbo and Balin watched him carefully from her side, seeing the threat forming in his eyes.

"Know this." He began, looking at the Company. "If anyone should find it and withhold it from me... I will be avenged."

With that, Thorin turned on his heel and left the room, having no desire for sustenance. As soon as he was gone, the dwarves sighed in relief, enjoying their quick break from the hoard as they ate. But those closest to Thorin were not eased of their distress so easily, for it's weight alone nearly killed them.

"Dragon's sickness." Balin identified for the hobbit, seeing his confusion. The tears in his eyes broke Talia's heart. "I've seen it before. That look, the terrible need. It is a fierce and jealous love, Bilbo. It sent his grandfather mad."

"Balin," Bilbo began, trying to phrase his question carefully. If he were to find out about the stone's true whereabouts, he would be in more danger than Bilbo cared to risk. "If—if Thorin had the Arkenstone... Well, if it was found... Would it help?"

Balin gave him a look of severity. On some level, he already knew. "That stone crowns all. It is the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he who bears it. But stay his madness?" The elder dwarf shook his head. "No, lad. I fear it would make him worse. Perhaps it is best it remains lost."

The advisor excused himself momentarily, finding a small meal of his own. He had left Talia and Bilbo to their own devices, who considered deep thoughts of a similar nature.

"Bilbo," Talia placed a hand over his. "I know."

He looked up in surprise, searching her eyes. Her emerald irises told no lie.

"You must keep it secret." She whispered, out of earshot of the others. "Do not let it leave your person. He scavenges through old dressers and drawers, pondering in old nooks when he thinks no one is looking. Until we find a way to cure the sickness, it must stay safe. Far from him."

Bilbo nodded, patting his inner coat pocket as discreetly as he could. However, he still had one question for the Queen.

"What will you do?"

Talia could only look at him. "I don't know. I wish I had the answers, Bilbo, but I don't." She sighed, shaking her head sadly.

"I know nothing."

...

Hours later, Bilbo pondered over Talia's words, turning an object over and over in his hands. He sat on a humble bench in a quiet part of the mountain, gazing at the grandeur around him. Though the stone kingdom was beautiful, it was daunting; he had never felt so small. Sighing, he tried to think of the situation as a riddle he could not solve, for his desperation had presented him with every possible perspective. What was he to do?

But a deep, gruff voice cut his thoughts short. "What is that? In your hand."

"It's nothing." Bilbo stood, watching Thorin approach him and stop before the bench. It was a lame excuse, and he knew it. He wasn't sure why he was so scared to show Thorin; perhaps it was because his friend was changed.

Thorin narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe his burglar. "Show me."

Bilbo shifted his weight under his gaze, feeling foolish. Then, he opened his fist to show an acorn, sitting comfortably in his palm. He watched as Thorin's gaze turned from that of suspicion into that of confusion. 

"I picked it up in Beorn's garden." He stuttered, knowing his sentiment was odd and a little ridiculous to the dwarf. Still, the King's face softened. In that moment, Bilbo saw a glimpse of the Thorin he knew.

"You've carried it all this way?"

"I'm going to plant it in my garden. In Bag End."

Just then, Bilbo saw Talia round the corner behind Thorin, stopping suddenly when she saw the intimacy of their conversation. Still, she could not help but listen to the hobbit tell the King about the acorn, for she saw a change in her husband's eyes that only Bilbo could bring about.

Thorin let out a light chuckle. "It's a poor prize to take back to the Shire."

"One day, it'll grow." Bilbo shrugged, his eyes darting from Talia's to Thorin's. "And every time I look at it, I'll remember. Remember everything that happened—the good, the bad. And how lucky I am that I made it home."

The hobbit offered Thorin a smile, which he returned. Something lifted from Thorin's cerulean blue eyes, something that made Bilbo think he was getting better. He wasn't sure if it was because of him, but as the moment continued on, the hobbit knew there was no mistaking the change. His eyes grew lighter and lighter, becoming more and more like himself. Talia had to muffle her gasp of amazement for fear of disturbing them. Bilbo was curing Thorin without even knowing it; the hobbit's words were combating the sickness.

"Thorin, I—"

Then, Dwalin came to stand beside Talia, missing her dire look of discretion. "Thorin, the survivors from Lake-Town; they're streaming into Dale. There's hundreds of them."

Just like that, Thorin's face hardened again, his eyes darkening with clouds as grey as an oncoming storm. Bilbo looked to Talia in shock, but her face was that of defeat. The sickness had reclaimed Thorin once more.

"Call everyone to the gate." Thorin barked, walking past Dwalin and Talia into the city.

"To the gate. Now!"