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    Summary

    It seemed very possible Thorin had irritated someone with magic. He had no clue what he had done, but there was only so long he could ignore the signs.

    The air grew warm around them, far from pleasantly. The lady stood taller and raised her hand. She ran it over his body, hovering just above him, and sang something in a language that he couldn’t understand. His skin tingled at the words and it felt like there was a vise squeezing at his heart. He gasped vainly for air while his side flared with pain and the lady’s eyes met his.

    “Hear me now, stone-tender. You will walk this earth, doomed to see and absorb what you fear until you embrace it. Until you can speak your heart and understand the heart of others, you will lack the control you so cling to.”

    All he had wanted to do was rebuild Erebor. Now it looked like he would have to battle the emotions of everyone in the Lonely Mountain to do so.

    He really hated elves. And magic.

    Language:
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