Chapter Text
On the rocky plains around the place called The Carrock, a small group of dwarves was making way; they were following a hoard of orcs. Soon a stream of shouting, screams, and struggle transpired where after stood the dwarfs panting and exhausted from the fight.
It all happened in a flash so there is not much to be said. They ambushed an orc camp while traversing the rocky plains which was hidden among the boulders. They stood victorious upon corpses of orcs that covered an entrance to a stronghold on the side of a cave hidden well by said boulders.
The company was confused as to what the orcs were guarding and Thorin decided to explore every last crevasse of the dark layer. With every skirmish they had with orcs over the years, he tried to avenge a bit of dwarven blood that was spilled by these vile creatures.
The small company of dwarves was weary and crept carefully into the darkness of the cave.
Leading the way was Balin, holding a torch and ever serving as a lookout man, the sharpest eyes in Thorin's group, behind him went Dwalin, a formidable fighter ready to jump into action at anything they could encounter. Behind rushed young pair of brothers Fili and Kili, their eyes eager and curious, shushed by old Oin who soon stopped following them to guard the way and relay any messages of other dwarves who stood guard outside. Them being Gloin, Bofur, and Ori who were burning orc corpses outside so as not to attract wolves and whatever else lurked in these parts.
Balin headed to the deepest part of the cave and stopped for a moment, then called out to Dwalin, his brother, and they both headed to something that caught their attention. Thorin pushed forth to follow, but Dwalin stopped him with his ax, almost in a guarding way, followed by a grim look but Thorin found it rather rude.
After a minute or so Thorin protested as to what the two older dwarves were doing, them returning from the dark corner of the cave with a worried look and Balin words just trailing off,
“We found someone in the dungeon, they seem to be breathing. The horror is not easy on the eyes, my King...”
Thorin just nodded, Dwalin shone the torch and led his King to the object of their unsettlement.
Thorin's eyes widened and breath shallowed when in the weak torchlight he saw a person, like a corpse. The body dangling by the arms from thick shackles attached to the cave's ceiling, feet on the ground, only held upright by chains that cut into their arms. They looked like a hanging marionette.
The brave dwarf averted his gaze to compose himself, he examined the surrounding area, his mind still processing the horror. The place looked like a torture room, wicked devices of malice decorated the walls, the smell of blood strong in the air and as a centerpiece of this grotesque display, hanged a body. Even for a group of dwarven warriors, this sight sent shivers down their spine, the body being gashed and marked by numerous wounds, some old and twice healed over while some fresh still oozing blood.
The silence of the group was interrupted by Balin, who was the only one examining the body, his old eyes being used to the horror over many years and his worried heart not letting him falter. A realization that came to him when he gazed upon the mysterious figure escaped his lips far too quickly, disturbing the group even further,
„It's Thranduil and he is alive.“
This was a shock to the group, most of all to Thorin as at the sound of Elvenking's name his blood started to boil and his heart started to beat so fast he couldn't hear anything else or think of anything else.
His eyes snapped to the elven figure before him, memories and anger for the elf stirred in him as Thranduil refused to help him twice and caused much hardship to his group.
He pushed past his people not noticing worried faces among them, even more, Balin's pleas because they all knew Thorin's rage knew no bounds when it came to the elves. Balin stood in front of the elf's body shielding him from Thorin's wrath, a highly unbecoming action for a dwarf.
„ Steady your heart, my King, let us –„
He was interrupted by Thorin unleashing his fury,
„How dare you call me king?! How dare you protect an elf and the worst one of them all at that, move and let me see this miserable wretch! “
While Thorin was fuming and Balin tried to calm his wrath in the background of this argument, Kili tried to remove Thranduil's bindings. He fumbled and only caused the wounds on the elf's arms to open and blood to start trickling down to his arms; Thranduil let a weak moan and stirring in his unconsciousness.
This action only seemed to anger Thorin more to the point where he neither heard nor saw any reason and words as flames spewed forth.
„I am your King and to disobey me means to disgrace your kin and your honor, so I demand you both, cease in this foolishness and step aside,“ his voice like thunder echoing through the cave.
Thorin's fury glowed in his eyes, piercing both of the disobeying dwarve's hearts, the fiery gaze pushing them to the wall of the cave. They let their heads fall down, emotions writhing in them.
Thorin didn't like to order his companions, but often his temper would get the better of him and he would unleash his anger, feeling guilty afterwards. He didn't treat them as his subjects or think them inferior even if he was their king. They were his brothers-in-arms, the last of his family, men who would die for him as he would for them. So his words stung his companions like a dagger and they couldn't meet his gaze. They waited for their King's next move.
Thorin approached the elf, his heart almost leaping from his chest from his anger, and his eyes fixed on the elf's face; obstructed by a long curtain of hair. His frail frame shivering in pain while shallow breathing escaped his lips like a quiet prayer. Thorin, upon looking at him closely, found him so little and pitiful. He lifted his sword to the elf's throat, determined to kill him and get his revenge for Elvenking's past transgressions.
He was broken from his rage by a hand on his shoulder. It was Balin and he spoke softly to Thorin, like only he knew to soothe his King's furry and steady his mind.
„Please listen to me, you are better than this, my King –“
his voice trembled as Thorin turned to face him, but still the wise dwarf continued,
„Smaug destroyed Mirkwood, same as he did with our home, spiders invaded his halls same as the vile dragon did ours, his people slaughtered just like ours...“
Balin's eyes were full of pain and tears to painful memories as he swallowed a big gulp and continued once more,
„... none knew of Thranduil's fate afterward, they thought him dead, but I find this to be worse... Tortured by orcs, on his own who knows how long, in that he is more pitiful than us and he needs our help.“
Thorin inhaled sharply cutting him off for he held his tongue as long as his anger would let him,
„Help? You must be mad or foolish, let me remind you that this arrogant prick abandoned our people to be killed, not even mentioning our meeting with him in his realm. I hope you didn't forget that. I have no mercy or concern for him, moreover, I am glad orcs took him, he paid his mistakes in blood.“
A villainous smile came onto Thorin's face to the shock of his people.
Balin was a very kind and wise dwarf who in these bleak times only wished they all could bend together and weather this storm. This darkness that has befallen the earth changed many hearts, divided them, broken them and he didn't want that for their company. Other dwarves surely shared his sentiment and took pity for a fallen elf and so one joined him in his plea.
„My King, never say that, for then you would be same as orcs. To be tortured like this, we wouldn't want it to anyone, its monstrous,“
Balin and Kili protested in unison.
They spoke plainly and truthfully, fearing they offended their king but didn't know how to make him see that he was turning cruel and acting like their worst enemy. This surely being a result of years of pain they all suffered after Smaug's victory.
No dwarf feared a worse fate than being captured by orcs and kept alive, they would rather choose death. The moment of Thorin's cruelty shocked them to their core and only affirmed their worry that their beloved King had fallen into the abyss of hate. The fire of rage burned his beautiful soul to ashes until nothing remained behind his dark eyes but emptiness.
This was going on for some time, they saw their leader lose parts of his heart and succumb to darkness growing deep in him. Thorin they knew was gone and they wanted him back, wishing for the light of his eyes to shine once more.
„How dare you? You have no right to say that! It is my right to avenge my people and family! So what if his people are dead?! I'll end his misery and with him last of his kind. At this point that would be a mercy. “
Thorin didn't even notice that he swung his sword towards Balin, his act of aggression got him to step back for a second and stop his words flying like blazing arrows. He steadied himself when Kili jumped to Balin's aid,
„Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain, you are the best of our kind, every dwarf striving to your example,“ his voice singing true, „so I beg of you to be better, be better even from Thranduil, show mercy where he couldn't, show compassion where he wouldn't. “
Kili was his kin and always looked up to Thorin, seeing his King falling into shadows, saddened Kili so he chose words that would lull Thorin's heart and make him come to his senses.
With that Balin and Kili finished their piece and waited for their king, hoping he was still a dwarf that they once knew, full of pride and furry but also kindness and honor.
Thorin lowered his weapon once more gazing upon Thranduil's ghastly features, the horror finally sinking in after the rage subsided. The sight of anguish snuffed the flame of anger and so he decided to give in to his companions' pleas. He turned on his heel and exited the dark cave saying as he went,
„He is your burden, Balin, and all of his troubles fall on you. We will see how long he can stay in my good graces; if he wakes that is.“
With this act he tried to also apologize for his words that surely hurt his companions because he did care for them after all.
Balin and Kili finally relaxed and let out a sigh, turning swiftly and in unison bowing, „Yes, my King.“
A small smirk shining on Kili's face as he met Balin's proud eyes.
Kili was innocent and optimistic, he didn't really understand the feud elves and dwarves held. He found elves rather beautiful and interesting. He was young and foolish, but right now Balin liked that he had him by his side. Kili quipped, at last, letting out a small laugh,
„We get to keep him! Did we just become fathers, Balin? “