#anoldwarrior

anoldwarrior

Thorin had woken on the morning after his coronation, which all had attended, those men from Dale and Lake-town, and even the Elvenking from Mirkwood had been there, to finally witness Thorin being crowned as the rightful King of Erebor. They had all fought hard to retrieve back the mountain. They had defeated the dragon, and killed off most of the Orcs.

Thorin himself had faced off with Azog, the Defiler, and had defeated him, killed him stone dead with his mighty Orcrist, which had been returned to him by a stroke of luck. The Elven Prince, Legolas, had saved his life when he was being attacked by one of the mountain trolls. The Elf had killed the beast, and Thorin had caught the mighty sword before it fell from the ledge into the depths below.

o it was he had faced Azog, on that frozen lake, and he was not without his own horrible, and almost deadly injuries. But he had slid Orcrist right through the beasts body, killing him on that frozen tundra, and staring into his eyes, his own shown with victory of the beings defeat. He had collapsed after that mighty battle, having sustained wounds all over his body, most of them very painful, and it had taken him weeks and months to heal. He did not know that it was not only Oin who had helped him, but some of the Elven healers had used their magic and potions to keep him stabilized.

Now, after all that which had transpired before, he sat in one of the main halls, with papers strewn across the table, as he listened to Balin and his advisors. He was to make good on his promises at his coronation, to give the share of the treasure to the men of Lake-town, of Dale, and even to give the Elvenking his precious jewels. But he could not concentrate, as his injuries were once again bothering him, as he stared into the eyes of his old friend, his most trusted Balin, his treasurer now.

When the white bearded small man gave her a small brown package, Jedi gave a small squeal. The package wasn’t that big but that didn’t really matter. Presents were always fun to get. She smiled up brightly to the man, holding the package to her chest.

                 “Don’t even ask——-“

His feet carry him right past Balin but he catches his brother’s inquisitive glance out of the corner of his eye—- ’tis but a blur, aye, but Dwalin knows him well enough in the first place to guess at his mind; and the other way around, he supposes.

He would have swept out of the hall, filled with an urgent need to put as much distance as possible between himself and the throne room which lay behind; and at the same time, something pulls him back, has him stop dead in his tracks when he reaches the threshold. He pauses there, his back a bulking presence in the doorframe, and then he squares his shoulders and, without swinging around, his quiet voice fills the hall: