Chapter 67: Long Live the King
The pain had been with Sara for three days, a constant, gnawing, toothsome ache. Two days since the fatigue had settled in like weights around her wrists, ankles, and chest. Yesterday there had been the dizzy spells accompanied by vision blurring and blackening. Food. They needed food. It was beyond hunger. Most, already suffering from malnutrition for many months, were actively starving. So little for so long… then nothing. There was no other word for it, they were starving. Even the children, usually resilient and full of energy, were still and almost lifeless, draped like burial shrouds where they sat or lay. No playing, no laughter, no sound. Just the shallow rise and fall of their chests. Their eyes were the hardest part, distant and glassy.
Even the dwarves bestial strength was beginning to flag. With the aid of the men they had finally broken through the main gate and widened the opening to receive help. That help had yet to arrive and some were beginning to fear it never would. No news had come from the outside world. It was assumed that Dain of the Iron Hills had gotten their missive, otherwise he would have been at their front gates five days ago. Or was it four days? Sara wasn't sure anymore. It was too much mental effort to track the days outside of their accompanying side effects.
There was a singular exception to the miasma of hunger and fatigue. Thorin. While everyone else's energy had flagged, it seemed that Thorin's strength had thrived. He'd awoken the same day Sara's pain had started. The pills had been limited to begin with, and the longer Thorin had slept, the more pills it seemed to take to keep him that way. Sara had feared his anger when he woke, but when he had, Thorin had been too far gone. Not only had he lost all sense of time, he had no interest in it. Night or day, he became an immutable force of energy, driven by his desire to find the Arkenstone. It was now impossible to have a cohesive conversation with him so Sara and Bilbo had taken to simply following him around and trying to keep others out of his way as he searched. It had not always been possible.
Thorin's search was no longer centered in the treasure room and, indeed, it seemed as though he could sense the movement of the arkenstone to a degree. His search had instead been directed closer to his own living quarters. Bilbo had been a nervous wreck for days, the tops of his feet worn smooth from rubbing and large grey circles under his eyes. Thorin was a relentless bloodhound and Bilbo and the stone were his harried fox. The poor hobbit had been forced to move the stone twice when Thorin had gotten too close. When Thorin had begun to stop the others and demand they turn out their pockets, Bilbo had all but cracked. He'd once again hidden the stone, stating that this time it was, "farther away and somewhere someone would have to be completely balmy to look." Sara had also advised him to hide his ring of invisibility, not wanting to risk Thorin taking an interest in it and Bilbo had done so. It had seemed to work at first but then they noticed that Thorin was sticking exceptionally close to Bilbo instead. But while Thorin did seem to have a renewed energy, it seemed his memory was slipping. He would frequently search the same areas over and over again or stop the same person multiple times in less than ten minutes. It almost reminded Sara of the effects of Alzheimer's.
She had begun to leave the letters from Thorin tucked under a floor board in her room. She wasn't sure if Thorin even had the wherewithal to read over his letters but it had been too great a risk. Where were Fili and the others? Things were quickly deteriorating inside the mountain and she wasn't sure how much longer they could contain it.
She and Bilbo sat hunched at the bottom of the stairs to the rampart over the front gates. Since Thorin seemed to follow Bilbo like a homing beacon they had decided to try and draw him as far away from the townsfolk as possible. Bilbo sat leaned against her side rolling an acorn from Beorn's garden between his fingers. By the sound of it, Thorin was down the hall in one of the rooms he had already searched twice, his angry grumbling occasionally reaching their ears as they sat watching and waiting. Under the direction of Balin, most of the company had retreated to the housing district to do what they could for the townsfolk. The exception to this was Bofur who was currently keeping watch from atop the ramparts.
"Where is it," grumbled Thorin, stomping down the hall directly for them. "It's close."
Beside her, Bilbo sat up as if someone had stuffed his fingers in a light socket. Sara sighed and prepared to empty her pockets.
"You have it don't you," accused, Thorin, stopping to glare at the pair of them.
"Have what?" she asked, knowing full well.
His eyes narrowed as he looked Bilbo up and down. "You do have it. It's mine. Give me that in your hand!"
Bilbo meekly opened his hand to reveal the acorn. Thorin's eyes seemed to glass over for a moment and then his attention was on her. "And what of you, what's in your pockets woman?"
Trying to keep her sigh of irritation internal, Sara pulled out one of the various trinkets from her pockets. This one was a dull metal coin, probably of some sort of tarnished silver. She had learned it best to keep something in her pocket to show him otherwise he tended to want to search her personally. "Did you want this coin?" she asked.
He scoffed. "What would I want with a mere coin? I am King Under the Mountain, I have more wealth than you could possibly fathom."
"Of course not," she said, returning it to her pocket where it clinked against the other objects.
His eyes sharpened at the sound. "What else do you have?"
She scooped the contents of her pocket out and held them in her hand, feeling rather like Nori. She held an empty thread spool, a key, a pretty white pebble, a lump of coal, several silver coins, and her elvin light stone. "I don't have the arkenstone but I will let you know if I see it," she said, a little dismayed at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue. "Have you looked in that room?" She pointed to the room down the hall in the other direction.
"Who are you to…" he began, but he was cut short by the muttered blast of a horn. Bilbo perked up, suddenly not aware of Thorin's presence. Above them they could hear Bofur's muffled shout and a moment later they could hear his feet on the stairs.
"They've arrived!" he was shouting as he descended rapidly down the slippery staircase.
"Be careful," warned Sara, but too late. The dwarves' enthusiasm carried him away and his boot slipped sending Bofur into a sliding rolling bundle hurtling down the staircase.
Sara sprang to her feet and out of the way but Bilbo was not so lucky. The bundle of dwarf knocked into him and the two of them lay a tangled mess of tangled limbs and half muttered curses. Black crept over Sara's vision from her sudden rush to stand and she slowly sank to a crouch to avoid falling.
"There here!" she heard Bofur exclaim.
"Who is here?" asked Thorin's deeper and suspicious voice.
"King Thranduil and the others!"
"The elf king?" asked Thorin, his tone now angry.
"And Prince Legolas, Fili, Kili, and Lord Dain as well if the boar is anything to go by," said Bofur. "They are finally here! And it looks as though they have brought a few supplies."
"Food?" asked Bilbo, the pats of his hands on his trousers pausing.
"I dare say."
"Should we get the others?" asked Bilbo.
"No time. They'll be at the gates in a matter of minutes. Gather yer wits and let's greet em!"
At last Sara's vision returned and she looked around. "Where did Thorin go?" she asked.
"He was right here a moment ago," said Bofur with a shrug. "Likely he's returned to his hunt for the stone. But come on, let's go!"
Looking around for Thorin one last time she reluctantly followed Bilbo and Bofur toward the front gate.
"It's about time they arrived," said Bofur good naturedly as they emerged into the afternoon sun that greeted them outside the gate. "If Bomber goes much longer without food, I'll have to take in his trousers again."
The sun was sinking toward the western skyline, its afternoon warmth cut by the chill autumn breeze. Sara smiled grimly as she squinted to see the approaching figures. She could see six figures. One large elk given its antlers bearing Thranduil, four horses two of which were laden and two which had riders leaving what she could only guess was Dain on a boar.
"That one on the large elk will be his highness, King Thranduil," said Bilbo, as they began to walk out to meet them. "I remember seeing his mount while visiting the stables. Quite magnificent."
"No doubt the one beside him is that Leggy Prince of yer's Sara," said Bofur, cheekily grinning at her.
"He's not my prince," she grumbled.
"That's Fili and Kili!" exclaimed Bilbo excitedly, waving as two figures dropped from one of the horses and began to sprint in their direction. Unable to stop herself, Sara began to run to greet them. In moments the distance was closed and the force of their embrace knocked the wind from her as they lifted her into the air.
"Sister Sara! How we've missed you," said Kili, squeezing her.
"Indeed we have," said Fili, in turn wrapping his arms around her. His embrace was warm and comforting and she was loathed to end it.
"It's good to see you too," she finally managed to say with only a slight wheeze.
Fili released her and pulled back to look her over. His face shifted from joy to concern. "You don't look well."
"It's been… well it's been…" But all at once everything that had happened since she had last seen them came crashing down and she could only reach out and draw them both into another hug trying to keep the tears inside. "I'm so glad you are finally here."
"Is everything alright?" asked Fili, stroking the back of her head as she clung to them.
"A very touching reunion, I'm sure," said King Thranduil, looking down on them with boredom from the back of his enormous red elk. "Greeting's Ms. Sara Miller. Where are the others? We have urgent matters to attend to, do we not?"
"Indeed we do," agreed Fili, turning to Bofur. "Where is my Uncle? The armies of orcs that we had guessed to be on the other side of Merkwood are now only a little over a day's march from the eastern edge of Merkwood. They will arrive soon."
"Sooner than we had thought, I fear," said Legolas, pulling his white and grey speckled horse to a stop beside his father. He descended and faced them with a grave expression. "The goblins from the mountains have joined them. The ravens also bear news of a third army approaching from the north, an unusual dark cloud above them."
"Not to mention the spiders," said Kili with a shudder. "They are massing in the forest."
"Where is he?" came a gruff shout from behind the others. "Where is Thorin?"
Thranduil turned with a look of strained patience to the newcomer. The dwarf rode a giant hairy boar that must have been several hundred pounds at least. Sara could only assume this was Dain of the Iron Hills. He was a stout dwarf with thick red hair and beard both streaked with white. He reminded her somewhat of an older Gloin.
"Lord Dain, my thoughts exactly," replied Thranduil.
The boar snuffled and pushed between the Legolas's and Fili and Kili's horses. The Dwarf lord's feet hit the found with a solid thud. "Where is my cousin, Thorin Oakenshield?" said Dain, brushing Fili and Kili aside so he could stand face-to-face with Sara. "You are no doubt the woman he spoke of, Sara. We went to aid the elves as he bade us do. Why is he not here to greet us?"
Bilbo stepped forward. "Lord Dain of the iron Hills, allow me to welcome you to the Lonely Mountain on Thorin Oakenshield's behalf."
The dwarve's gaze slid sideways to examine the hobbit. "You will be the child of the shire, one Mr. Bilbo Baggins? I have no time for your fancy words and speeches. Tell me where to find my cousin. War is upon us and my axe hungers for the blood of the pale orc."
"He's… He's not well," said Bilbo, taken aback.
"Unwell how?" pressed the dwarf lord.
"Gone plum off his nut," said Bofur under his breath. Dain's attention snapped to him.
"What do you mean? Speak plainly. I did not travel all this way and fight spiders at the side of the elves for half truths."
"What's happened?" asked Legolas.
As if to answer him they heard a sudden whistle and a thump and Legolas stumbled back looking down in shock. The shaft of an arrow protruded from his shoulder just above the collarbone and a patch of red was slowly oozing downward. At first no one moved, not quite digesting what had just happened. With a sick sense of certainty Sara's gaze lifted to the rampart behind them. Another arrow whistled down and would have struck Thranduil had one of Fili's knives not intercepted it midair, sending off to the side and clipping the red elk's ear.
"What madness is this?" growled Thranduil angrily as he worked to quiet his mount before it could stomp Kili into the dust. Bofur came to steady Legolas but the elf was examining his shoulder as calmly as though an insect had landed on it.
"Are you alright son?" insisted Thranduil, moving to dismount.
Legolas waved him off. "I am well enough, though it is not preferable. Stings rather a lot. Nothing our healers can't attend to."
Thranduil turned with vehemence to the mountain. "Who dares fire on me and my kin?"
"No faithless fairy folk spies will enter the halls of my forefathers, this day or any other!" bellowed a voice Sara was all too familiar with. Sure enough, looking down on them with a drawn bow in hand was Thorin. He'd found a crown of gold to adorn his head but his manic demeanor was anything but kingly. His hair was wild and unkempt and his eyes darted to and fro watching them all."
"I wage battle with the spiders of the forest to bring you aid and strength for the coming battle and this is how you repay my generosity," shouted Thranduil.
"I need not your generosity," spat Thorin. "Nor do I want it. I'm not some vagabond beggar who needs your empty pity. I am Thorin, son of Thrain, king of Erebor. I alone control this mountain and all its wealth."
"Then eat your riches if you will," said Thranduil acidly. "Let cold ore warm you in the winter months as you keep your imbecilic vigil over empty halls. Soft gold makes poor armor. Make haste in your idiotic demise for I tire of your kin's mind games. I would as soon see the mountain overrun by the enemy than an empty headed fool. One, at least, is predictable."
"Uncle," pleaded Kili. "What's this all about? You bade us renew the truce with the elves and we have. Will you not welcome Fili and I into the halls of our ancestors?"
"I have no sister's sons," shot Thorin, aiming an arrow at Bofur who narrowly dodged it. "You come as traitors and thieves seeking my treasure."
Another arrow shattered near Dain's feet. "What dark magic is at work here?" asked Dain, turning to Sara, his red brows drawn together in deep wrinkles. "Thorin would never denounce his own blood."
"Is this the work of a spell?" asked Legolas, looking up from his shoulder that was now auspiciously devoid of an arrow that was now in Bofur's hand.
"It's dragon sickness," said Fili hollowly, watching his uncle with an unreadable expression.
"Is that true?" asked Dain, looking at Sara sharply. "Has he succumbed?"
She could feel herself visibly wilt. "Yes I'm afraid so. I hoped you would get here before it got this bad."
"A shame," said Thranduil, looking back up at Thorin, his anger visibly melting. "I had previously found him hardheaded but not unreasonable for a dwarf king." He turned his gaze on her. "I am not without sympathy given my own recent condition. But if he truly is taken with the madness then we have no business here."
Panic swelled in her as Thranduil turned his elk.
"Come Legolas," called the elf king. "I would see you tended to."
"That's it?" asked Sara. "What about the battle?"
"The battle will arrive as it would have. Without the protection of the mountain there is much to consider and plan for."
"What of the townsfolk inside?" asked Legolas, swinging up into his saddle with a wince.
"We will aid any who come to us in Dale."
"We are starving now!" urged Bilbo. "If we don't get aid there will be deaths among the humans."
"Please," she said. "We need your help."
"What would you have me do Sara Miller?" asked the king, looking down at her. "Would you have me force my way into the mountain against the will of the dwarven king and bring supplies to your relief? And how do you think Lord Dain and the other dwarves would view me after the virtual rape of their ancestral mountain home, after the overthrow of their King be he mad or not. Tell me honestly they would welcome this and I will do it."
"Your cold corpse would sooner feed the crows," growled Dain, hoisting the thick axe from his belt.
"My point illustrates itself," said the elf king. "No, I would not attempt such a thing. To do so would be to risk another thousand year war with dwarf kind. If you have learned one thing about the dwarfs Ms. Miller it is sure to be their stubborn pride and loyalty."
Another arrow rained down on them narrowly missing Kili.
"I will not wage a war on the dwarves, even to help those in the mountain," said Thranduil with finality.
"But this is all senseless," began Bilbo.
"Agreed, Mr. Baggins. Yet that is how things are. I will leave these two horses that are laden with supplies and all other aid we have on our persons. But if you know what's best, you will not leave the town's folk where Thorin holds sway over them." So saying, Thranduil reached for the saddlebags draped over his elk and cut them loose. "Come, Legolas."
Legolas hesitated before cutting his saddlebags free for Kili to catch.
"Never show your face before me again," screamed Thorin. "Any of you! As King of Erebor I hereby order it sealed! Any who set foot inside this mountain are invaders and will know my wrath! Any who leave are traitors. None may leave and none may enter. This mountain is mine."
"Dain of the Iron Hills, will you return with me?" called Thranduil, ignoring Thorin. "Surely you know the folly of arguing with those afflicted with dragon sickness."
Dain looked uncertain. "Cousin," he shouted, turning back to the ramparts. "Will you truly not welcome me into the halls of our fathers?" He was answered with an arrow at his feet. "Very well," said Dain, grunting as he swung up onto his boar and trotted after the elves in the direction of Dale.
For several long moments they watched them go, unsure of what to do.
"Uncle see reason," shouted Kili, suddenly more angry than Sara ever remembered seeing him. "How could you do such a thing? How could you denounce us?"
"I am King. King Under the Mountain. I have no kin, traitor. Be gone with the elf spawn you serve." Yet another arrow shot down, this one whistling past Kili's ear.
Bofur reached forward and tugged Sara behind a boulder as Thorin fired again. The others quickly joined them, crouching behind the boulder. "Stay low lads," said Bofur. "There's no reasoning with him now."
"How long has he been this way?" asked Kili, fingering the notch missing from the tip of his ear. His face was smeared with red.
"Are you okay?" asked Sara, reaching for him.
"No! I'm not," growled Kili. "Uncle is out of his skull!"
Bilbo passed him a handkerchief which he held to the wound. After a moment of silence Kili turned to her. "Im sorry. I'm alright. It's just my ear. I will heal."
"He's been this way since Smaug died, but it's gotten worse the past week or so," she said, taking the handkerchief from him and dabbing at his ear and cheek.
Fili roared in frustration and slammed his fist against the stone shielding them. "What are we to do?"
"Your uncle is not himself and very well may do you harm," said Bilbo.
"So he's threatened," grumbled Kili.
Bofur poked his head up above the rock. "We should all make tracks for Dale," said Bofur. "If we go back now Thorin will turn us into pin cushions."
"Fine," said Fili, straightening to look over the rock. "Looks like Uncle is elsewhere. We'll figure this out in Dale. But Sara rides with me."
"I… I can't go yet," said Sara, kicking herself mentally. Thorin's letters were under her bed. And Bilbo had hidden the ring and the stone somewhere inside the mountain. "And… and neither can Bilbo."
Bilbo glanced at her and let out a deep sigh. "She's right. I can't go yet."
"What are you on about," growled Kili. "You can't go back into the mountain. Uncle will shoot you."
"It's not safe," agreed Fili. "You need to come with us. You owe no loyalty to Uncle."
"There are things we can't leave inside the mountain," she insisted.
"What could possibly be more important than getting you out of here," argued Fili. "Any possession you leave behind can be replaced or retrieved later."
She hesitated.
"Bilbo hid the arkenstone," she said at last. "If Thorin finds it, which he's come dangerously close to doing several times… he will be completely gone. No one inside the mountain will be safe."
"Then let Bilbo use his ring and sneak back in," said Fili. "We will wait."
"The ring is inside the mountain too," said Bilbo, biting his lip. "Thorin has been stopping people and forcing them to turn out their pockets. His search for the stone has been relentless."
"Fine, Bilbo and Bofur," said Fili. "They can sneak in and…"
"I have to go too," said Sara.
"No," said Fili firmly. "As your heart brother I forbid it. You will not enter the mountain while uncle is inside."
"I'm not asking," she said. "I have to go back. There are things… that need to be done. And things I have to retrieve. I promised Thorin."
"No," said Fili, taking her firmly but gently by the arms. "Any promise you made to him is void. You will not go!"
She reached out and took hold of the two braids over his temples, his king's braids, and pulled him close. "Fili, trust me," she said looking into his eyes. "I may have a way to help clear up some of this mess, but I need what's in the mountain."
He watched her unconvinced.
"Remember why I am here," she added. "Remember who sent me. I can't leave the mountain yet."
"You would fight me on this, even as your heart brother? Though I would forbid it?"
"I would. It's for you I have to go back."
His expression did not soften as he pulled her hands from his braids. "So be it. If I can not convince you… I will not force you… but…"
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you."
"You are to get these all important items and then come straight to Dale. Understood?" he directed.
"I will come when I have finished what I need to."
His jaw worked as he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky. "That's not reassuring, Sara," he said. He blew out a breath and pulled a knife from his belt. "Take this just in case." He eyed her sternly. "If you have to… use it. Swear it!"
She hesitated before taking it. "I will."
"You're just going to let her go," growled Kili, smacking his brother's shoulder. "Just like that? Are you mad? You saw uncle."
"Would you have me drag her back kicking and screaming," asked Fili, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yes!" shouted Kili. "It's your duty… our duty, as heart brothers, to protect her. This is insane. She can't…"
"Kili" she snapped, bringing him up short. "Shut up!"
He glared at her but remained silent.
"You will see them safely to Dale," said Fili, looking at Bofur. "Swear it. Whatever else, you will get Sara and Bilbo out!"
"I swear it," said Bofur, unusually solemn. "Sara and Bilbo will reach Dale safely."
"Very well," said Fili, standing and pulling Sara into a final hug. After a moment, Kili also drew her into an embrace, still sullen and unhappy. The two dwarf princes made a dash for their horse. No arrows sought them as they galloped away. She, Bilbo, and Bofur were left there with the two loaded pack horses. Without words they gathered the discarded saddle bags and silently led the animals to the mountain. They paused at the entrance.
"We need to get these supplies to the town's folk," prompted Bilbo.
"The others of the company will ask questions if they see these supplies," said Bofur. "And among the villagers it will cause a panic if they find out help is not coming."
"Should we try to get them to Dale as King Thranduil suggested," asked Bilbo. "They should not have to starve when help is so near."
"We could be attacked at any time. We can't lead the women and children out into the open," argued Bofur. "There aren't enough men to protect them and if any of the company leave the mountain, Thorin will view them as traitors. Not even sure Thorin would allow the villagers to leave. You heard him."
"If they don't get food people will die or riot anyway," said Bilbo.
"What do you say, Sara?" asked Bofur.
"What?" she asked, drawn out of her own thoughts and plans.
"Don't you agree we should send the townsfolk to Dale while they still have a chance?" asked Bilbo. Sara looked at the horses Bofur led
"How much food is there?" she asked.
"Considering its elvish food made for relief and war rations," said Bofur, "I would guess there is enough to see the townsfolk keep going for another 24 hours. May even be some medication."
"That's good," she said, rubbing her pounding temples. "Give it to them."
"And what of the others of the company," he pressed. "They will want to know where we got the food. So will the people. They will want to know when more is coming."
"Then you'll have to lie," she suggested quietly. They fell quiet looking at her.
"Alright," said Bofur at last. "But it won't hold up long."
She sighed. "It doesn't have to," she said. "Twelve hours, maybe a few more. If they have not heard back from Dale by noon tomorrow they will have to make a break for it… but I hope it doesn't come to that. Just take them the food and don't let Thorin see you. I need to talk to Bilbo alone."
"Fili charged me with yer safety, lass," began Bofur.
"We'll find you in the housing sector when we are finished," said Sara, ignoring his protest.
"But what about Thorin? He sees ya and…"
"Leave Thorin to me," she said sharply.
"I don't like the sound of that, lass."
"Then pretend you didn't hear it," she suggested.
"Do I want to know what yer planning?"
"Probably not… definitely not."
"Then take these," said Bofur, shaking his head, pressing two leaf wrapped cakes into her hand. "I know better than to argue with ya. And be careful."
In moments Bofur was gone, leading the horses. Sara turned the cakes over in her hand before handing one to Bilbo. Despite her body calling for food, the act of consuming it seemed grotesque and nauseating at the moment. She slipped it into her pocket.
"I do love him dearly," said Bilbo watching where his friend had disappeared with a frown. "But I do feel I shall never entrust any child to his care."
Sara chuckled. "So much the better for us at the moment."
"Now, what do you have in mind?" asked Bilbo, taking a bite of his cake.
"I need your help," she said.
"You have it, Sara. You know that."
"None of the company will like what I have in mind."
"It would not be the first time."
"I mean it. This will most definitely count as treason in their eyes and Thorin's. Some may never forgive us."
He studied her, his expression grave. "Will it save lives?" he asked.
She nodded.
"This has something to do with the arkenstone doesn't it? And it's dangerous."
She nodded again.
"Dash it all. In for a dinner roll, in for the loaf. I would expect no less. Tell me your plan."
Quickly she explained the idea that had been reluctantly forming in the back of her mind for days.
The floorboards squeaked in protest as Sara hastily pushed them back into place, Thorin's letters once again tucked in her shirt. Heavy footsteps informed her that she would not need to go in search of Thorin. He had found her.
He leaned in the doorway of her room, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes gleaming in the light from her elvin stone. She got to her feet, watching him while trying to gauge his next move to match it with her own. He studied her with the intensity of a predator as he pushed off the door frame toward her. She froze, trying not to flinch away as he reached for her face, fingers brushing slightly across her cheek.
"You're here," he said, his voice as frigid as his eyes. "Do you not know fear?"
"Why would I be afraid of you?" she asked, trying to keep her eyes locked with his.
"It would be to your benefit," he said darkly, watching her. His brows were drawn down in a deep scowl, his lips a small flat line. His rough hand slipped languidly over her jawline.
"Are you planning to hurt me, Thorin?" she asked, watching the flicker in his eyes as she used his name. She fought the goosebumps that were bristling along her neck and spine as his fingers encircled the back of her neck. Alarm bells sounded in her primal brain as she resisted the urge to pull away. She had to try and spin this just right. She'd been half expecting it but it still hurt when he fisted his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. Despite the pain she kept constant eye contact with him.
"I would not desire it, no, but you have betrayed me. Even now you deceive me."
"I could never lie to you," she lied. "Thorin, I love you."
He pulled back slightly, studying her face with caution. "You have never yet said those words to me." His eyes narrowed again. "Why now?"
"Do I need a reason? I love you."
"Indeed?" He tilted his head in disbelief. "You say it, but you do not prove it. Instead you run straight into the arms of my enemies. You would abandon your supposed love for another? Tell me, was it the elf prince, or was it the toymaker?"
"I…" she stammered.
"I care not. You may pine after another but you belong to me. If I have to keep you by my side by force, so be it. I shall make you mine, for so you are."
With this proclamation his lips were on hers as his hands and body pushed her back onto the bed. He was hot and forceful, pushing her head this way and that as he kissed and caressed. His hands squeezed her sides as he crawled over top of her. He was heavy as he let his weight settle over her, pulling one of her legs to the side.
Confusing emotions swirled in her. In one sense this was Thorin and her body, her animal brain yearned for his touch, for his attention, but in another, entirely separate way, it was not, and a louder voice in her screamed at her to move, to run, to fight! She didn't want this, and Thorin, if there was any portion of him still in the body on top of her, would not have wanted it either.
"Ngh… wait," she said, weakly pushing at him.
"I will not," he growled in her ear before biting her shoulder.
"I have to tell you something," she insisted, trying to keep his hand from reaching too near his letters.
"There is nothing I want to hear in this moment save for your moans of pleasure, woman."
"But," she insisted, trying to ignore her body's response to his rocking hips. "I… ngah… I know who has the arkenstone!" she blurted.
Above her, Thorin stilled, his heat instantly cooling. "Who? The intruders from earlier?"
"You're looking for the stone," she continued quickly. "But with their numbers it was more likely that someone else would find it first. I have been watching, listening."
"Who?" he growled. "Who would withhold it from me?"
She hesitated. "It was Bilbo."
"The shire rat!" roared Thorin, springing from the bed. "I knew he was false. For this, his head will adorn a pike on the ramparts!"
He meant it! He really meant to kill Bilbo!
"Wait," she cried, catching his arm.
"Why?" He jerked his arm from her grip. "So you can warn him? I think not."
"Let… let me take you to the stone first."
He paused. "He doesn't keep it on his person?"
"With you stopping people right and left to check their pockets? Bilbo may be a naive hobbit, but he's no fool. He hid it."
"Where?"
"He snuck back into the mountain just after the traitors and elves left. He seemed more nervous than usual so I followed him to find out why."
"How can you be sure it was the arkenstone?"
"You said to see it was to know it. It couldn't have been anything else. Besides, the book predicted Bilbo would find it and betray you."
His blue eyes studied her closely for several long moments. She silently prayed to the gods, any gods, that he would…
"Take me to the stone."
Trying not to let her relief show, she got to her feet and pulled her clothing back into place. She led him out into the courtyard and in a few minutes they were nearing the residential district. They could not entirely avoid the townsfolk but she prayed they would make it through without incident. With Thorin in his current state there was no knowing what would happen and the last thing she wanted was for him to attack someone else. Luckily, there was a commotion on the far side of the plaza that had drawn nearly all the townsfolk. No doubt it was Bofur with the food. She needed to hurry.
"This rabble is irksome," Thorin said, spitting his words. "Don't tell me the hobbit has been foolish enough to hide the stone among them."
"No, not here," she said.
She was relieved not to find Bilbo's face among the crowd. He must already be in position. She hadn't quite meant to throw the hobbit under the bus so thoroughly, but it had been necessary. But as they turned to go, Dwalin caught her eye from across the courtyard and frowned. His gaze flicked between her and Thorin and at the grip Thorin had on her arm. It was probably going to bruise. Dwalin's face was a patchwork of worry lines. Hoping to divert his attention or suspicion she raised a hand waving in what she hoped was a cheerful and reassuring manner. Dwalin's frown didn't fade but he was distracted by a small boy tugging on his sleeve. Taking the opportunity, Sara quickly steered Thorin to the lower district.
As they went deeper into the mountain she was forced to use her elvin stone to light the path. She looked around searching the floor.
"Where exactly are you taking me woman," groused Thorin, his grip on her arm tightening painfully.
"I can't really tell you. I'm not sure what you call it. The best I can do is to show you. Hold on, I'm trying to remember…" But at that moment she saw the three stacked stones she had told Bilbo to leave. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks she led Thorin to the left. Soon they were at the top of a narrow staircase.
Thorin hesitated. "Why have you led me here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"This is where Bilbo hid it. Somewhere no one would think to look." She pulled him down the staircase. "We're almost there."
The stairs emptied out into a small reception area which then split off into four more hallways. She bit her lip wondering which one. There! Three more stones.
"It's down this hall," she said, pointing.
He didn't move. "Why are we in the detention cells?"
And indeed, they were in the detention block. Sara had seen it on a map Bilbo had been studying several days ago. The four hallways were lined with cells fitted in with plain but sturdy iron bars… at least she thought they were iron.
"Don't you want the arkenstone?" she prompted. "I followed Bilbo here. He hid it down this hallway."
"I don't believe you," he growled, jerking her back to him and taking her by the upper arms. "This was simply a ploy of some sort, a scheme thought up in your devious little mind."
"Thorin I swear the stone is here," she said, startled by the look in his eye. It was the same wild look from the ramparts.
"More lies," he spat, shaking her so hard her teeth clacked together. "How many lies shall you spin before you…"
But at that moment a brilliant multicolored light shone from behind her, bouncing like a shower of gems down the hallway. Thorin froze as his face melted from its anger and suspicion into a wash of wonder and a darker smear of greed.
"The arkenstone," he whispered, his tone reverent.
He shoved her to the side and fairly flung himself down the hall toward the light. He paused outside the cell, mesmerized, as Sara crept after him. The small cell shared a barred wall with a neighboring cell and in the back shared corner, resting in a pile of pebbles, was the brilliant white stone. Thorin stood transfixed. She waited impatiently for him to move forward. She didn't have to wait long.
He moved cautiously into the cell as though he were afraid the stone would sprout wings and fly away. Sara slipped closer, her hands grasping the open door. Thorin crouched, his hand extended, but just as it seemed that he would take it, the stone vanished. Thorin blinked stupidly and reached out for the space it had occupied. Nothing. He began to dig though the little pile of pebbles but coming up empty handed he gave a roar of frustration and turned to face her … only to find the cell door shut.
She stared back at him.
"Where is the stone," he said in a voice feverish with barely suppressed rage.
"It's gone," she said simply.
He strode to the cell door and pushed, expecting it to give. The door stood resolute. She pulled the key from the lock.
"What madness is this?" he spat from between the bars. "Open this door!"
She shook her head and slipped the key into her pocket. Down the hall she glimpsed Bilbo pop back into view. "I can't do that."
He eyed her murderously. "What have you done with the arkenstone?" He tried to push the cell door only to meet unyielding iron. His face was growing purple with rage and effort. "Let me out," he seethed, his knuckles white as he fairly strangled the immuring bars.
She shook her head. "I can't Thorin. I wish I could. But this is best for everyone even if they hate it."
"So, you intend to imprison a king in his own dungeon?"
"I do."
"There can be no forgiveness for this… betrayal… this deceit," he hissed.
"I know," she said, unable to meet his blue eyes any longer. "I know you will hate me. And probably the others will too, but I'm doing what's necessary."
It happened in a fraction of a second. One moment he was glaring at her through the bars and the next there was a sudden pressure on her throat. She floundered, unsure what was happening. She was brought to a screaming crash with reality as she looked down and found a hand clamped around her throat. Thorin's hand… the hand that had caressed her so softly, had caught her countless times before she could fall, that same hand was now slowly squeezing her windpipe. Belated fear rocketed through her. She'd known it was possible, she'd known he would be furious, but if she were honest she hadn't wanted to believe it. She'd let her dying hope and grief outweigh her common sense and now she was paying for it. Her fear was quickly mixed and diluted by the all consuming anguish she'd been trying to hold in check for weeks.
Thorin's eyes were dark pools of hate, his lips twisted somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. A strange sputtering sound reached her ears and with a dawning horror she realized it was coming from her own throat. Her fingers instinctively reached for his hand, trying in vain to pry them loose.
"I never should have trusted a two faced witch like you," he snarled. "Curse the day I met you, Sara Miller. Would to the Valar you had never been born to plague me so. I do not want you. No one will ever want you!"
His words were molten lead, searing and toxic, and he poured them down her throat with deliberate venom. And then, his face was fading in her vision, the words falling unheard from his mouth as the world bled to silence. Was this her end then? Strangled to death by Thorin? Her limbs were growing heavy and her arms dropped from their attempt to free her. Her brain was screaming for air but she didn't have the strength to answer or help. She needed to…
"Sara! Sara!"
There was a voice calling her and gentle hands cradled her shoulders. Where was she? Why was it dark?
"No, please! Sara! Wake up! Wake up!"
"Move aside lad," said a gruff voice. A large hand cupped the back of her neck lifting her chin as another finger pressed gently to the side of her neck. "Come round, lass. Come back to us."
"She's breathing!"
And indeed she could feel the oxygen spreading throughout her body like an army of pricking stabbing ants. Why?
"Is she alright?"
"We'll know soon enough. Give her a moment, she's coming round."
"How can she still be alive? I saw his face, he meant to kill her. With his strength he easily could have…"
"I know, I saw. I… I don't know, lad."
Someone had tried to kill her?
At last she felt control slowly seep back and she opened her eyes, blinking languidly. She was on the floor in a dungeon.
"Hello lass, you've come round." Dwalin was looking down at her with a relieved if not weary smile. "You're safe now."
Safe? What had happened? She turned her head and through iron bars saw Thorin sprawled out on his stomach, his face toward her, unconscious. Bilbo knelt beside her, a brilliant white gem in his hand. A stone? The arkenstone! The memories came rushing back in a hot swell, spilling out of her eyes.
"He… he tried to… to kill me," she sobbed. Dwalin scooped her into his lap and held her close, trying to soothe her. She gasped and sucked in great ugly sobs that shook her body.
"Yer safe, Sara."
Eventually there were no more tears to cry. The tears dried, leaving a hollow numbness. When at last she felt in control of herself she pulled away from Dwalin.
Dwalin examined her neck. "Looks like you'll live, although yer bound to have hefty bruising for a while. How's yer throat?"
"It hurts but it's clear," she said, limply holding the handkerchief Bilbo had offered her.
Dwalin nodded and helped her to her feet before turning his attention to the prone body in the cell. "By all accounts ya should be dead lass. I can't say why but Bilbo is right, something must have held Thorin back there at the end. "
No, Dwalin was wrong. He'd held nothing back. And… and in a way it was easier that way. She was grateful. She had been deluding herself and she knew it now. Thorin was gone. Now she could finally face facts. He didn't want her. There was no longer a Thorin Oakensheild to want her, just his body.
Dwalin's face grew more conflicted as he studied the cell. "Lass, ya know this is treason don't ya?"
She blew out a short breath trying to tamp down the hysteria that felt like laughter bubbling up her throat. "Ha, yeah" she said.
"And that by stopping him just now… by opposing him for yer sake, I am also now a traitor."
She nodded again, not quite able to meet his eye. "I know it. I never meant for you to get involved. I'm sorry." But right now they were just words she was expected to say. She didn't mean them, she didn't feel them. She felt nothing. There was nothing left.
Dwalin let out a deep sigh and held out a hand to her. She finally met his gaze, it was steady, calm, and solely focused on her. "Let me see that knife on your hip," he said.
Absently, she drew it and held it out to him, handle first. He took it and stared at the blade. "Lass, do you remember the words I said to you after we escaped the elf dungeon as we sat on the banks of the Long Lake."
"Not word for word."
He drew the knife to his neck and she froze. What was he doing? Surely he was not… "Do you remember the promise I made you?"
The promise? What promise? She frowned and tried to remember while watching the blade at his neck.
.
"Mr. Dwalin please don't do anything hasty," squeaked Bilbo, stepping forward, his hands raised in a plea.
"There is nothing rash about my actions Mr. Baggins. Sara, do ya remember?"
She racked her brain trying to throw it back to a conversation that felt like it had taken place years ago. "You… you said that you had my back, no matter what came."
"Aye, that I did." With this he slipped the blade beneath his beard and pulled it forward. A chunk of beard fell to the ground.
"Mr. Dwalin, what are you doing?" protested Bilbo, as the dwarf continued to cut off chunks of his facial hair.
When the answer came it was not directed at Bilbo but at her. "I've committed, and will continue to commit treason in the eyes of our people. A traitor may not wear a beard."
Her throat was thick. Her eyes stung. But that was impossible, surely there were no more tears to cry. Then why were her cheeks wet again?
Noting her expression he paused. "Here now, lass. Why are ya crying?"
"You're supposed to be furious with me. You're supposed to hate me for this like… like he did," she said pointing to the cell. "You're his best friend, his fiercest ally. You were the one who was sure to fight against this most."
"The others still may," he said, scraping the blade over his face.
"But… but why don't you?" she insisted.
"I did that already and regretted it, lass. If I had listened to ya then things would have been smoother. And even if I may not like the methods, I trust ya. Now explain to me why Thorin is in a cell and what yer next move is."