41

"Rest up tonight. You must leave on the morrow."

"What?"

Gandalf was walking with Talia and Bilbo through Dale, leaving Bard and Thranduil for the night. They had reached on an agreement shortly after the Arkenstone was presented; it would be used at dawn to barter on behalf of the Men and the Elves. Bard would be able to settle his claim on the gold so that the Lakemen could rebuild their lives, and Thranduil would be able to retrieve the precious white gems of Lasgalen. The Queen and hobbit were proud of their accomplishments, but it was only temporary. The true measure of their success would be the exchange that was to occur in the morning.

"Get as far away from here as possible."

"Gandalf is right, Bilbo." Talia interjected, placing a hand on his arm gently. "No matter how Thorin reacts to the Arkenstone, the threat of war still remains. The Orcs will swarm these lands on Azog's behalf, for they are already on the move. The battlefield is no place for a hobbit."

But the Queen and wizard always seemed to underestimate the strength of his kind. "I'm not leaving."

Talia stared back intensely. "What?"

"You picked me as the fourteenth man. I'm not about to leave the Conpany now."

"There is no Company, not any more." The wizard rebuked. "And I don't like to think what Thorin would do when he finds out what you've done."

"But Talia was a part of this, too. I will not leave her to deal with the consequences alone."

"Bilbo Baggins," Talia stopped abruptly, halting their journey through Dale. The way she placed her hands on his shoulders told him how serious she was. "You are too kind to me. Do not stay on my behalf. This is my fight, and my fight alone."

"No, it isn't." Bilbo stated matter-of-factly. "We all care about him. I'm not afraid of Thorin."

"Well, you should be." Gandalf rebuffed. "Don't underestimate the evil of gold, gold over which a serpent had long brooded. Dragon sickness seeped into the hearts of all who came to this Mountain... almost all." He paused, looking between the Queen and the hobbit.

But before Gandalf could call over the weasel of a Lakeman named Alfrid, Talia grabbed his arm. "Mithrandir, I would not trust anyone but myself to look over Master Baggins. Allow him to enjoy the comforts of Erebor for one more night before he leaves. He will stay in my charge—I'll see him off myself."

Although the hobbit didn't enjoy being argued over like a child, he was very grateful for it. Plus, the bickering of Talia and the wizard was quite comical at times; it had kept the Company on their toes throughout the journey. That is, when they weren't being hunted or cooked or chased, of course.

Gandalf grumbled to himself, adjusting his hat and staff before reaching a decision. "Fine. Never mind how much I like you, Master Burglar—if I should ever see your face this far east again, then I will be far from pleased."

Talia urged Bilbo on, nodding her thanks to the wizard. He watched them disappear into the streets of Dale, lost to the night during their journey back to the mountain. He could only hope that the morning would be much better than the last, for he was not sure what he would do if his counsel failed.

...

The night had passed, and the fretful day had come. Thranduil and Bard rode slowly towards the stone gate, followed by Thranduil's legions of Elves. The Company and the King were already at the ramparts to greet them, staring down indignantly. Talia and Bilbo remained at Thorin's side, ready to interject and explain the situation when it presented itself. Per Gandalf's request, they agreed to be his voice of reason, the reason that would prevent battle between Dwarves, Men, and Elves. War was coming either way—still, they had to ensure that it would be between the right forces.

But before Talia or Bilbo could stop him, Thorin strung his bow and fired at the Elk that Thranduil rode. The arrow bounced off it's hooves, causing it to stir beside Bard's horse.

"I will put the next one between your eyes."

The Company cheered at the strength of their leader. Talia and Bilbo, who were the only ones that had their wits about them, rolled their eyes alongside the commotion. The Queen shrugged to Bard, who grinned slightly at his distant relative.

Then, Thranduil lifted a finger, indicating to his army to ready their arrows. The Elves did not need to be told twice; in one fluid motion, thousands readied their bows and pulled their strings firm. The Company's cheers ceased and their eyes widened, for the action had sent them hiding behind the ramparts. Thorin and Talia were the only ones not to duck.

But no shots were fired. Thranduil lowered his arm, causing his army to sheath their arrows and lower their bows. "We've come to tell you payment of your debt has been offered... and accepted."

"What payment?" Thorin growled, leaning over the edge of the ramparts. The Company also rose, confused like their leader. "I gave you nothing. You have nothing."

"We have this." Bard pulled the cloth away from the glittering gem, holding it up for the dwarves to see.

"They have the Arkenstone." Kili gasped in awe. Still, Talia was too late to hush her nephew. "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the King!"

"And the King may have it, with our good will." Bard pocketed the gem, lifting his chin to Thorin. "But first, he must honor his word."

There was a long, pregnant pause between both forces. Thranduil and Bard looked up expectantly, waiting for Thorin's reaction. The Company was not as hopeful; instead, they narrowed their eyes at the pair like their leader.

"They're taking us for fools." Thorin mused, pulling his gaze from the stone. "This is a ruse, a filthy lie! The Arkenstone is in this Mountain! It is a trick!"

"Thorin—"

But Bilbo would save Talia again, for the same reason as before—she had suffered enough of his wrath. "It's no trick. The stone is real... I gave it to them."

Thorin wheeled around to face Bilbo, his clouded irises as grey as a thunderstorm. But lightning also flashed within his cerulean orbs, for the hobbit had done more harm than he realized. Before, Thorin was mad. This time, Thorin was angry.

"You?"

"I took it as my fourteenth share."

"You would steal from me?"

"Steal from you? No, no. I may be a burglar, but I like to think Im an honest one." Bilbo chuckled, although he was the only one laughing. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, clearing his throat. "I'm willing to let it stand against my claim."

"Against your claim? Your claim? You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!"

"Thorin!" Talia boomed, hushing the murmurs of the Company. Bard and Thranduil looked up from below, waiting eagerly for her contribution. "What of my claim?!"

Thorin whipped around to face her. "Over what?"

"Your heart." She said, stepping in between him and the hobbit. "Bilbo did not act alone. I pushed him to give them the stone. If you have any wits about you, you would let it be returned safely and give them what they are owed. It is barely a dent in this kingdom's fortune, Thorin, a dent that is worth easing the suffering of others. And so help me Mahal, if I hear you grumble about your legacy one more goddamn time, I'll accept the stone myself!"

"You have no such authority."

"Then what is this?" Talia held her hand up, revealing her wedding ring. "I am the Queen. And if you are in no suitable state to rule this kingdom properly, then the Queen has absolute authority. Per the ninety-fourth decree of the Great Scriptures, to be exact."

The dwarves looked on in shock at Talia's challenge. She had done her research, and while she wasn't dethroning the King, she was debilitating him.

To Thorin, that was much worse.

"Not for much longer."

He gripped her hand, sliding the ring off her finger and tossing it aside. "Now, you are relieved of such a burden. Don't ever test me again."

Then, Talia smacked him.

The dwarves grimaced at the sound, while Bard and Thranduil watched in shock. She had no tears in her eyes, for she was done crying. Rather, she was sick of his childish attitude. He was making this about them, but as far as she was concerned, their relationship was long dead. Instead, she needed him to focus on the matter at hand—there would be war if he did not come to terms.

"Focus on the Arkenstone, Thorin. Accept the payment."

Thorin scoffed, recovered from the violence. "The payment that your burglar stole."

Bilbo looked at his friend sadly, honesty in his eyes. "I was going to give it to you, many times. I wanted to, but..."

"But what, thief?"

"You are changed, Thorin." The hobbit asserted. "The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin."

"Do not speak to me of loyalty." Thorin turned away from the hobbit to the dwarves. "Throw him from the ramparts!"

But the dwarves did not move, refusing to carry out his order. They too were tired of the Mad King.

"Did you not hear me?!" Thorin snarled, looking back to the hobbit. "I will do it myself."

Before anyone could stop him, the King grabbed ahold of Bilbo, pushing his trembling form against the ramparts. "I curse you!" He shouted over the rabble of dwarves, who were trying to pry Thorin off of Bilbo. "Cursed be the wizard that forced you on this Company!"

Suddenly, Gandalf appeared among the Elf army, striding to the front of their ranks. As he stood alongside Bard and Thranduil, Talia sighed in relief. If anyone could fix the current disaster at hand, it was him.

"If you don't like my burglar, then please, don't damage him! Return him to me." He leaned on his staff, causing Thorin to let go of the hobbit reluctantly. "You're not making a very splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?"

"Never again will I have dealings with wizards!" Thorin bellowed, allowing the hobbit to race past him. "Or Shire rats!"

Talia ushered him to the side of the wall with the rope, helping him over the side and making sure he was steady. The look in his eyes broke her heart.

"Come with me."

She shook her head sadly. "I cannot. My place is here."

"Talia," Bilbo gripped onto the rope tighter, "He broke your sacred vows."

"And why should I?" She pulled him close. "I understand your worry. Really, I do. But Thorin has been there for me all my life, and I cannot give up on him now. If love is what kills me, than so be it. I will die nobly."

As Bilbo scurried over the wall, Bard decided to readdress the matter. "Are we resolved? The return of the Arkenstone, for what was promised."

Thorin looked over to the horizon, seeing the inkling of a familiar silhouette.

"Give us your answer. Will you have peace or war?"

A black raven landed in front of the King, causing him to smile. His cousin had answered his call.

"I will have war."

Then, an army of dwarves led by Dain himself arrived, hailing from the Iron Hills. The shorter folk donned heavy metal armor, which shone a dull grey in the light. They chanted for their leader as he rallied his people, whipping his axe around his head. The redheaded bastard rode atop a hog fit for his size, urging it to a halt as soon as he saw the Elf army.

"Son of a bitch." Talia scowled, hauling herself over the ramparts and sliding down the rope.

"Ironfoot." Gandalf identified at Bilbo's side, ignoring the Company as they cheered from the mountain. Thranduil barked out a command in Sindarian, sending his people marching towards the dwarf army.

"Who is that?" Bilbo asked, seeing the grimace on the wild dwarf. "He doesn't look very happy."

"It is Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills." Gandalf replied, just as Talia arrived. "And—"

"The most arrogant ruler in Middle Earth?" Talia offered.

"—Thorin's cousin."

"Are they alike?" Bilbo asked, looking between Talia and the wizard.

She let out a hoarse laugh. "Not in the slightest."

He could only agree. "I've always found Thorin to be the more reasonable of the two."

Without wasting another moment, Dain rode over to the Elvish and Lakemen armies. The mohawk he sported was covered by an ornate helmet, though his bright red beard whipped in the wind freely. It was adorned with braids, beads, even the bones of some sort of animal. It was hard for his onlookers to tell whether they were teeth or horns. Before, Talia had never been able to take him seriously; now, she understood that his ridiculousness was nothing but serious, intended to send Thranduil and Bard's armies running.

"Good morning! How are we all?" Dain began, his thick accent ringing out on the plains. "I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider just... sodding off?!"

Talia began pushing her way through the Elves and Men, followed by the wizard hot on her heels. Everything about her situation was backwards to her. Although she hated Dain, she wished she was on the same side as her people, even if they were as insane as the Ironfoot. And as much as she hated Thranduil, she was prepared to defend his perspective of things amongst the madness, for she needed to keep the peace. More was at stake than Talia had ever imagined possible, and she found herself doing previously unfathomable things for the sake of Middle Earth.

Finally, they broke the ranks armies. "Come now, Lord Dain." The wizard began.

"Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!"

"You will do no such thing!" Talia snapped, making herself known. "There are greater matters we must attend to, as a unified force."

"Of course. Talia Rue Ashenstone, the Butcher of Beasts, the Lady of Dale, and the Queen Under the Mountain. I heard that you were still alive. Tell me, where is your ring?"

Talia growled, narrowing her eyes at the dwarf. Though her opinion of him seemed shallow, his insults gave her good reason to hate him. Thorin had barely been able to pry them apart from roughhousing when they were little—who knew what would come of an actual fight between the two?

"Lost in the madness of his mind." Talia fired back, fighting the urge to curse the dwarf. "But I did not live for nothing. The darkness has returned, and it intends to greet us today. Middle Earth is in grave danger. Put aside the mountain for the time being, and think of something beyond your personal gain!"

Before their feud grew uglier, Gandalf reasserted his position. "There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men and Elves. A legion of Orcs marches on the mountain. Stand your army down!"

"I will not stand down before any Elf!" Dain roared, pointing his axe at an amused Thranduil. "Not least this faithless Woodland sprite! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!"

"He's clearly mad, like his cousin." Thranduil jested, quirking a brow in challenge.

"You hear that, lads? We're on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!"

But before Dain could motion them forward, a deep rumble within the earth caused them all to quiet. The time had come; Azog's armies were here.

"Were-Worms."

The massive creatures burst through the base of the earth, swallowing the dirt and rock whole before retreating back into their tunnels. Through these carven passages, the Orc armies marched to greet the others, causing all of the rulers to turn their heads.

"Oh, come on!" Dain roared, causing Talia to snort. "The Hordes of Hell are upon us! To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!"

Then, all armies launched into battle, beginning the war for the mountain. Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike cut down Orc after Orc, forming brilliant ranks in which the others could fight with ease. Yet within the mountain, the Company had not yet stirred, though the outcry of one prince was sure to change that.

"I'm going over the wall!" Kili asserted. "Who's coming with me?"

The dwarves roared in response, readying their weapons eagerly. They were longing to fight alongside their kin, for it had been far too long. But Thorin would not allow it, not if it left the mountain undefended.

"Stand down."

All of the dwarves turned to him incredulously, but Fili was the one to speak. "What? Are we to do nothing?"

"I said, stand down!"

The argument between the dwarves had not gone unnoticed on the battlefield. Gandalf and Talia exchanged a look at the sight, turning back to retrieve their hobbit.

"Gandalf? Is this a good place to stand?"

Talia shook her head, looking to the wizard. "Stay with him."

"Talia Rue?" He asked, but she was already sprinting away from the pair. "Where on earth are you going?" He called after her.

"To the mountain! If nothing else, I must convince Thorin to kill Azog!"

"To cut his other forces off." Gandalf realized, watching her race back to Erebor with the wind in her hair. "May the light be with you, Talia Rue. May the light be with you."

...

Hours had passed since the battle had begun. Countless lives had been lost on the plains and in Dale, where the Lakemen had retreated to. Azog's second army had arrived, which had been the force needed to overwhelm the Elves. Talia was fighting her way to the mountain, which was a slow and arduous process. Even Dain was struggling on the battlefield, searching for Thorin and his Company amidst the chaos.

But the King would not come, for his mind was on other matters.

Thorin sat on his throne, engulfed by his ostentatious robes and heavy crown. He was deep in thought, but one needn't ask him to understand what it was about. Dwalin approached the King wearily, searching Thorin's clouded irises for some semblance of his former self.

"Since when do we forsake our own people? Thorin, they are dying out there."

But the King hadn't even heard his words. "There are holes beneath holes within this Mountain. Places we can fortify... shore up, make safe. Yes. Yes, that is it." Thorin stood, moving away from the throne. "We must move the gold further underground. To safety."

Still, Dwalin would not give up. "Did you not hear me? Dain is surrounded. Your wife is surrounded." Tears welled in the warrior's eyes. "They're being slaughtered, Thorin."

"Many die in war. Life is cheap." The King shrugged, looking to Dwalin gravely. "But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend."

"Talia was right." Dwalin shook his head. "You sit here in these vast halls, with a crown upon your head. Yet you are lesser now than you have ever been."

"Do not speak to me as if I were some lowly Dwarf-Lord. As is if I were still Thorin... Oakenshield." He shielded his face, recoiling in self-loathing. Then, he straightened, snapping out of his thoughts and swinging his sword aimlessly. "I am your King!"

"You were always my King. You used to know that once. But you cannot see what you have become."

"Go." Thorin dismissed him, his voice heavy. "Get out... Before I kill you."

With tears in his eyes, Dwalin turned and left him. Thorin was too far gone to be saved, even now. On some level, Thorin knew, too.

The King felt as though he was suffocating on the throne, struggling to breathe under his garb. He found himself wandering to the Gallery of the Kings, striding atop the now solid gold river. His reflection seemed to taunt him, as did the voices in his mind.

You sit here with a crown upon your head... You are lesser now than you have ever been.

A treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost.

A sickness lies upon that treasure...

The blind ambition of a Mountain King!

Am I not the King?!

Talia rushed through the halls of the city, caked in dirt and gore and every other part of battle imaginable. Blood dripped from her blade as she pushed past the Company, delving deeper into the mountain despite their objective cries.

This gold is ours, and ours alone... I will not part with a single coin.

He could not see beyond his own desire!

As if I were some lowly Dwarf-Lord... Thorin... Oakenshield...

A sickness which drove your grandfather mad.

Oakenshield.

Thorin continued to walk on the golden floor, gazing at his reflection within. There was something so sinister, so serpentine, in what stared back.

This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!

I am not my grandfather.

You are the heir to the Throne of Durin.

They are dying out there!

Take back Erebor.

A dragon swam in the gold below Thorin's feet, stalking him like the disease within. He recoiled in fear, shuffling away from the red-scaled beast.

Dain is surrounded... Your wife is surrounded!

Take back your homeland.

Talia skidded to a halt in the Gallery of the Kings. As soon as she saw him, she became as still as the dead.

You are changed, Thorin.

I am not my grandfather.

Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor?

I am not my grandfather.

Then, Thorin saw himself sinking into the gold, which warped and folded under his feet. He was trapped by the thing that had given his kingdom it's wealth, the thing that later consumed it. He screamed as he clawed for the surface, yet he could not grab ahold of the gold. The commodity was consuming him, too. Consuming him like his grandfather.

This treasure will be your death.

Just like that, he was swallowed by the gold and the floor returned to normal. He had been killed by the thing he so greatly desired. The thing that ripped his family apart. The thing was meaningless, meaningless to anything but a dragon. He would not let greed consume him.

Not this time.

Thorin ripped the crown from his head and tossed it aside, sending it flying across the floor with a THUD. But before he could make another move, the shuffling of feet behind him caused him turn.

Talia stood at the entrance of the Gallery of the Kings, slowly walking towards him. They were both in a trance. It felt like it had been the first time they truly saw each other since before Smaug died, since before the madness of the dragon sickness.

"Thorin?"

She stepped closer, finally seeing his face in the light. His eyes were no longer clouded with grey. Instead, the beautiful blue hue that she loved had returned.

Thorin was himself again.