thecallofthevoid08 - Tumblr blog

thecallofthevoid08 · 14 days ago

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The Haggis, The Kelpie, and Loch Lomond

Summary; The dragon has been slain and Erebor reclaimed. Thorin is lost to gold sickness despite all their efforts, now it is up to Y/n to try and help him see reason but the king is too far gone.

Word count: 10, 685

Thorin sits upon his throne with his crown atop his head, staring off into the distance as he mulls over the situation at hand. His head is abuzz with thoughts and theories and questions.

The first of many that comes about more often than not, is the Arkenstone. Where is it? Why is it taking so long to find? The second that comes about almost as frequently, a voice, doubting, pointing crooked fingers in every which way. They've stolen it. They've stolen the Arkenstone. Which one, who could have done it? It could be any dwarf that resides in the mountain and he would be none the wiser.

Another other looks at the child with scrutiny, how likely is it that they would stumble upon her? Not very at all. The fact that the child is supposedly (Y/n)'s niece though she made no mention of having nieces or nephews until the child had appeared. Something isn't adding up. It's too clean, too thorough. The fact the child can't go a moment without his Seer tending to its every whim keeps her attention diverted. It's almost – no – it is as though the child is purposefully keeping (Y/n) busy, distracted, occupied when there are far more important things to worry about than what beastie she has found. Something is trying to sever the bond he has with his Seer – his One – his (Y/n). That would mean something sinister is afoot, something evil resides within his mountain, under their noses and they were all too blind to see... until now.

The sound of steadily approaching footsteps catches his attention from his thoughts, though they're not heavy booted steps accompanied by the jangle of tools and weapons. No. They're light, soft against the cold stone floor of the mountain.

He raises his head from resting in the palm of his hand and sits straighter in his throne as he awaits his Seer breaching the confines of the throneroom's entrance. Then she enters with a blank expression but her eyes are filled with such uncertainty that he can see it the moment she enters.

(Y/n) can feel the weight of his gaze as soon as she has entered this dreadful room but she cannot be swayed by the nerves. She must speak with him even if it is the last thing she does.

She comes to a stop a mere stones throw from where he is sat and offers him a meek smile, one that barely reaches her eyes. "Thorin," (Y/n) begins tentatively, unsure how to bring up the subject of everyone's concern. The fact of the matter is Thorin has been off as of late – specifically since entering the mountain, and his brooding is doing little to sway their concerns if anything it's cementing their fears. "Know that what I say comes from a place of care, of concern."

He eyes her blankly, watching the way she fidgets under his gaze wondering what she could possibly be worried about now when they've made it to the mountain, he sits atop his throne, and the dragon is dead. What is there to be concerned about?

"Of course." He says while tilting his head to the left, silently urging her to speak freely.

(Y/n) stares at him for a moment silently assessing whether or not she will be subject to his flaring temper for expressing her thoughts but finds nothing but unsteady waters in his blue eyes.

She sighs under her breath, blinks, and sucks in a steady breath. "Do you feel well?"

Do you feel well..? Of course he does – how could he not? His journey is at an end, the dragon slain, his home reclaimed. The only way he would feel any better is if the pale orc's head were placed before him.

He raises a brow at the question but does not answer, instead he gestures to the walls around them with a grin. "Do I feel well?" He repeats with a chuckle, "I have never felt better, âzyungel."

(Y/n)'s brow furrows at the chosen name for her. She doesn't feel reassured at all by that, if anything she feels more worried for him.

Despite his words and his visible joy she doesn't feel very convinced so she asks again; "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Thorin’s grin falters as he looks at her. He can see the worry and concern on her face as clear as day, and as overjoyed he is that she is spending time and energy in looking out for him, he can tell that something is wrong.

"Of course I am sure." (Y/n) can see his gaze harden and she almost regrets asking. "What have I done that is cause for concern?"

She scratches the nape of her neck as she tries to find the words to soften the blow of what she is about to say but there is no easy way to say what they're all thinking, really.

"You're not acting like yourself, Thorin." He frowns at her reasoning but remains silent as he waits for her to continue. "Please know that I'm not saying this to upset you. I'm worried about you – we all are. You barely eat, you hardly sleep. The only time you spend with the company now is to bark orders. You are not the same, Thorin."

Thorin continues to stare at her as her words fully sink in. He raises a hand to his face, smoothing over his beard as he mulls over his reply. "Do the others feel the same..?"

"Yes." Comes her immediate response. He can't say that he is surprised that the others feel the same, he knew it was a matter of time before their true colours were revealed, and truthfully he should be thankful that it didn't take long for it to break through the facade.

He slows in his ministrations but does not stop. "And did they put you up to the task of approaching me with the subject?" He asks tentatively, fighting back his flaring temper to stop himself from roaring and scaring her off.

"No," (Y/n) shakes her head, the motion gently swaying her (h/c) tresses, "we spoke about it and I volunteered."

"You volunteered?" His eyes widen a fraction at that, surprised to know that she was concerned enough about him to seek him out and ask him herself. It makes his heart flutter in his chest that she cares about him, for his health, but the idea that the company thinks ill thoughts of him leave a sour taste in his mouth that threatens to ruin this moment.

(Y/n) has unease upon her shoulders as she watches Thorin's movement. To anyone else they'd think he was lost in thought but its more than that, it's like he is listening but not necessarily hearing her.

"Yes, but that's besides the point Thorin." She begins trying to stay on topic. "We are worried about you, the company care about you –"

"I do not need to hear of the company right now." He sneers, cutting her off as he sits straighter in his throne as if he were getting ready to pounce and throttle her. "They are liars and snakes, filling your head with nonsense. Sending you to do their dirty work."

(Y/n) can't believe what she is hearing. He has never said such nasty words when concerning the company before and truthfully she never thought he would. Those dwarves are his friends, his family, his kin. What nonsense could they fill her head with? They've only been concerned for Thorin's well being just as she has been. It doesn't make sense.

(Y/n) sends a confused look at Thorin before shaking her head once more. "What? No, they haven't –"

"You believe them?" He cuts her off with a glare, as if the idea that she believes anything the company tells her is vile, disgusting, heinous. Before she can utter a word in response, Thorin continues. "You believe that I am unwell? Why? Because I have reclaimed my birthright and my rightful place on the throne? Because I have claimed the riches under the mountain? You are naive and gullible to listen to such schemes against me."

Naive and gullible? Those are two words (Y/n) would never use to describe herself with, so why on earth is he using them now? But more concerning is how he seems to think there's a coup against him.

"Did you listen to a word I said?" She asks, fighting back her frustration. "You are not eating or sleeping Thorin, that is the reason we are concerned, not because you have riches beyond measure –"

Abruptly he stands from his throne sending a heated glare at her and startling her into silence. "And I suppose that is what they told you? Filled your head with lies to deceive you, use you, turn you against me! Me! I won't hear of it. I won't stand for it."

(Y/n) shrinks where she stands. She has no idea what he is going on about. There has been no such conversations to turn her against him, that's his paranoia and sickness talking for sure and she knows it, but it unsettles her all the same.

"What are you saying..?" Her voice is little and meek and full of worry that she almost doesn't recognise her own voice in the vast emptiness of the throne room.

Thorin stares at her, letting the question hang in the air.

She is spending too much time around those who are praying for his downfall, he has to put an end to it quickly. He might not have been able to separate her and her niece back at (SC)'s barn but he won't stand for this treachery from them.

He narrows his eyes and (Y/n) fidgets. "I fear that you are spending too much time within the company of treacherous scum." He says in a scolding tone, like he's reprimanding her for her choices.

(Y/n) bristles; "They are not –"

"Enough!" He bellows over her with a snarl. "Do not try to defend them, âzyungel, I won't hear of it!"

There's that name again. Fear creeps up her spine as silence falls over the throne room.

Thorin, satisfied that he has rendered her silent, settles back into his throne with a frown upon his face that has no sign of melting away anytime soon.

(Y/n) stands before him with her mind going a mile a minute. What does this mean? What is he saying? She has absolutely no idea what is going on anymore and she is so confused and scared that she dreads to actually speak these words aloud for fear of his wrath... but she must in order to move forward.

She gulps, blinks several times, and draws a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. "So what do you expect me to do?" She begins quietly, "Ignore them? Turn my back on them?"

Thorin sends her a look, one that showcases how tired he has grown of the whole conversation. "As they have done to me."

That answer visibly confused (Y/n) as she scrunches her face up with a small wrinkles forming between her eyebrows and several on the bridge of her nose. "They have done no such –"

"(Y/n)." He warns with her name alone, and fear blossoms within her chest at that. "Not another word."

Her heart thuds in her chest, feeling like she needs to leave, to run. To find her niece and find a hiding spot and remain there for all of time.

"Or what, Thorin?" She asks scared of the answer, but (T) doesn't say anything, he simply continues to stare and she can practically feel the weight of his gaze upon her pinning her in place.

(T) can't help but stare. It feels like an age since he's seen her hair loose around her shoulders, those beautiful strands of (h/c) frame her face nicely. He wants to run his fingers through her locks, feel the texture upon his skin as he fashions her hair into a braid of his own design and pin it in place with his bead. How cruel it is that she stands before him like the most precious treasure that he cannot touch.

Then his eyes snap from her hair to her eyes, seeing the confusion and the hurt swirling in them and it's such a shame to see such uncertain emotions dancing in the light of her (e/c) eyes but she doesn't understand. Not yet.

"Must you always fight me?" His gaze softens as a pang stabs through his chest. "Do you take pleasure in making me angry?"

(Y/n) almost scoffs at that, almost, her previous fears immediately set ablaze with her anger. He cannot blame her for their petty squabbles when he is the instigator more often than not. If he is angry with her then that is his business, he can remain angry all he likes because what she has said has come from a place of kindness.

"Of course I don't? But the problem lies when you refuse to listen to me, insult others, and make threats."

"Everything I have done is to keep you safe." He counters with yet another glare. "I have done nothing worthy of receiving your scorn."

Nothing? Seriously? The arguments and the threats are not reason enough to earn him her anger? Apparently not, and that infuriates her, but worse than that he still isn't listening. It's almost like he's doing it on purpose.

"Thorin you're not listening –"

"I have been listening but every word from your mouth has not been your own." (Y/n) sends him a pleading look, one that softens his insides but he must remain strong for both of them. "Those wretches have been pitting you against me from the start. I know that they have."

"None of that is true!" She cries out in frustration, desperate to knock some sense into him.

"It must be! Why else do you fight and scorn me with your words?"

(Y/n) just wants to tear her hair out from the roots and scream. She's so frustrated she could break down and cry. "Because you are so stubborn and irrational and paranoid!" Her voice cracks and she has to stop to breathe. "You blame everyone else but yourself–!"

"What am I to blame for, (Y/n)?!" It's an honest question. As far as he is aware he has done right by her. He's always looked after her and this is how she repays him? He shakes his head, eyes hardening evermore as he stares at her. "I have never harmed you, I have kept you safe! Kept your niece safe! Kept you fed, warm, comfortable!"

"Yes, I know that –!"

"Then what?!" He bellows loud enough for his voice to ricochet off the walls.

(Y/n) stares up at him, shocked by the sheer volume of his voice and how raw and angry he sounded. Yes he has done all those things and more for her, and she is forever grateful, but he's ignoring all the threats and lies and secrets. They're just as plentiful as his help.

After the initial shock wears off, she glares up at him once more with twice as much ire.

"You've been treating the company so poorly since we arrived! Your nephews, (BB), Hell even (G) has been on the receiving end of your temper and he isn't even here!"

Thorin's frown deepens at the mention of the company once more. "Because I know that they are hiding something from me." (Y/n) scoffs and shakes her head once more at the ridiculousness of it all. "Now I realise that not only has one of them stolen the Arkenstone but they're trying to steal you from me too."

"What- the Arkenstone? Me?" (Y/n) sputters at that. There is no way he believes that... right? But she stares up into his blue eyes, finding no doubt, nothing but assurance that he is right. There is absolutely no fucking way this is happening. It's like the whole mountain is collapsing around her and she is powerless to stop it.

"Thorin, you don't believe that they would do that to you?"

"I do." He answers simply. "How could I not? It is the king's jewel, of course one of them has taken it. It's the only explanation as to why it has not yet been found."

She can see it in his eyes that he truly believes that they have stolen it from him and that breaks her heart. They're good people, they don't deserve any of this scorn. She has to defend them as they have defended her.

"Thorin, no, they don't have it."

"And you would know how, (Y/n)?" His glare hardens tenfold, threatening to set her ablaze where she stands. "Have you searched their belongings? Their persons and pockets?"

(Y/n) shakes her head once more. "Of course I haven't!" She almost screams out of frustration, then she sighs, trying desperately to regain control of her nerves. "Thorin, you're sounding insane."

But that was the wrong thing to say.

"Do not speak so disrespectfully to me, (Y/n)." Thorin snarls at her then, abruptly standing from the throne and pinning her in place with his rage. "I am king – king under the mountain! You will not disrespect me, least of all in my throne room!" His voice echoes in the vast emptiness of the throne room, his anger ricocheting off of every wall and destroying whatever hopes that (Y/n) could have had for this conversation.

(Y/n) stares up at him with remorse for the man that he was. "What's gotten into you, Thorin?" She asks as tears well up in her (e/c) eyes.

Thorin stares at her unmoved by the waterworks. He knows that they have tricked her, deceived her, and she is too naive to know better than to trust those snakes over him.

"Some sense." He answers calmly after a moment of silence. Then he tilts his head back, not removing his eyes from her form, and continues. "I see now how naive you truly are, how trusting of the wrong people you are. I didn't think you were so easily led but now I see. They've turned you against me and you let them. I will correct this, âzyungel. You have my word."

Dread creeps over her skin at the use of that name once more. She has never been referred to as such from anyone let alone Thorin, she doesn't even know what it means and that's what unsettles her. The tears fall soft as thunder. He won't listen, he won't. He's too wrapped up in his own head to hear her words.

"What are you talking about?!" She sobs as she wipes her eye with the back of her hand, "I'm so confused Thorin!"

"I will correct this." He says more to himself than to her as he steps away from the throne.

(Y/n) takes a meek step backwards, and the action does not go unnoticed. "Correct what?!"

"Your perception." He says as he takes another step towards her. She eyes him carefully, taking yet another step backwards. Feeling the animosity in the way he walks, in the tone of his voice. She doesn't know what he means nor what he plans to do when he gets within reach of her.

Her heart hammers in her chest, threatening to break free from its confines and run – run far away from Thorin. Something inside of her is screaming at her to run, sprint down the never ending halls and never look back but all she can do is take a small step backwards as her mind tries and fails to understand.

Thorin can sense how close she is to turning tail and fleeing and it irks him further. He doesn't understand why she can't see what's going on around her nor why she can't see that he only means to help her.

He takes another, much larger step in her direction, almost daring her to continue backing away. "You are forbidden from spending time with them, (Y/n). Do you understand?"

And (Y/n) takes another step away from him with widened eyes. Surely he doesn't mean that–? But he does. She can see it on his face that he means it. That he does not want her anywhere near them.

"No, Thorin, of course I don't understand!" She cries out, confused and hurt and scared. She goes to take yet another step backwards –

"Not another step!" He bellows growing more irritated with her. "You aren't to spend any time with any of those snakes until I find a way to deal with them!"

(Y/n) almost freezes... almost. Instead her heart urges her to flee, to turn and sprint down the endless corridors, find her niece and hide until he finally sees sense.

"This – This is ridiculous Thorin?!" She tries to sound braver, stronger, but instead she sounds meek and small and full of uncertainty.

"Ridiculous?!" He parrots the word back at her like poison as he halts in his tracks. That the idea alone is ridiculous, that she doesn't understand the severity of the situation. "Tell me, (Y/n), is it ridiculous to keep you safe from harm?!"

Of course keeping her safe is not ridiculous but the implications that she needs protection from the company of all things is. She knows it and she cannot believe he doesn't.

"No harm will come from the company, you of all people should know that!"

He sneers at her then, shaking his head at her foolishness. "It has been decided (Y/n)." He says as if that were the final word and she would have no choice but to bow to his whim.

He needs to see sense, she can't back down – cannot give in. If she does then what will come next..?

(Y/n)'s stare hardens, her lips fix into a wobbly thin line. Faux bravery, the mask of certainty; "You can't stop me."

Thorin stares at her in disbelief. He knows that she is intimidated by him, it's obvious that she is, but he was expecting her to back down, to do as she's told, but he would find no such luck. She's stubborn and temperamental and downright confusing.

He scoffs, shaking his head once more at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. "Do as you're told for once." He says and it comes as a warning.

For once? She has never actively gone against his wishes – in fact the only time that she had was when he was trying to split her and her niece apart back at (SC)'s barn. That was the one and only time she went against his wishes and wants – how dare he. How dare he imply that she is nothing more than a nuisance, a headache, someone who is so incompetent as to need constant supervision and protection when she has proven time and time again that she doesn't.

"No I won't!" She barks back baring her teeth as a near snarl. "This is beyond ridiculous paranoia, Thorin!"

Thorin tears his gaze from her as if scorned, as if slapped by her words.

Silence hangs in the air and (Y/n) is hoping and praying that he has seen sense, that her words have finally hit their mark and he realises how irrational he's acting... but God has never been forgiving.

He turns back to face her with eyes full of sadness and hurt and anger. A fury unlike she has seen before and her heart sinks to the balls of her feet. "You dare defy me?!" He roars in the vast emptiness ricochetting against the walls.

(Y/n) has never felt so small, so weak, so hurt. She needs to push past her own feelings to try and save her friend – to save their king.

She stares back at him with as much hurt and anguish and anger to match his own. "Yes!" She cries out in a near sob, "If this is what I must do to make you see sense then yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

Thorin's lips pull back to a snarl then. He has never faced such disrespect from someone he nearly could so closely consider his kin.

"You wretched woman!" He roars once more, barely able to hold himself back from lunging towards her and forcing her to see reason.

"Must I make threats to force you to listen?!"

"Make your threats, Thorin! I don't care anymore!"

That response shocked him. His face falls, all previous anger and animosity has melted to something more somber, something more serious. He hadn't expected her to meet him halfway, but she did. He hadn't expected her to disrespect him, but she did. He didn't expect her to turn against him, but she did.

Silence hangs in the air like a bad smell and (Y/n) starts to fidget under his gaze. There's something eerie when graced with quiet under Thorin's attention. He's always had something to say, be it witty, or snarky, or just plain rude, so standing before him after a heated argument with nothing more to say is beyond unsettling. His thoughts are his own and he keeps them well under lock and key.

He stands straighter, tilts his head backwards with indifference upon his face. "Then we will see how well you do when you're locked in your room like a petulant child."

That's just an empty threat... right?

(Y/n) frowns, unsure whether that is a bluff or not. He would not be so calloused or severe in punishing her, right? She hasn't done anything to warrant being locked away – right? He had threatened to bind her hands but nothing came of that threat so why would now be any better..? Because he is unwell, she reminds herself and she shrinks back.

"You wouldn't dare." She says tentatively, testing the waters with her index finger only to find the water scaldingly hot.

Thorin slowly blinks, sighs, and opens his mouth to speak. "You only have yourself to blame, âzyungel."

Dread and fear seize (Y/n) by the throat as she watches in horror as he lunges forward with outstretched hands. (Y/n) narrowly avoids his grasp by the skin on her teeth and turns on her heel, sets off in a sprint with only the sound of her heart hammering in her chest filling her ears and the slap of her feet against the cold stone floor that have accompanying, far heavier footsteps.

Thorin roars behind her but she cannot comprehend his words. She urges herself onwards hoping to cross the threshold of the throne room and find any other corridor or room to seek refuge in.

She breaches the confines of the throneroom's entrance and a sliver of relief washes over her but it does not last. Thorin's footsteps are growing louder, nearer as she barrels down the corridor hoping and praying to gain distance and hide but her hopes are growing slimmer by the second as Thorin's heavy boots are getting closer and closer by the second.

In one swift movement Thorin's hand latches around (Y/n)'s forearm and he comes to a sudden halt, hindering her in her strides before she has so much as registered the hand on her arm.

(Y/n) jolts then and she thrashes wildly within his grasp, swirling around to try and free herself by tugging and pulling on his grasp, pushing with all her might to no avail. The movement does nothing but irk Thorin further.

He girns at her as if she were a child having a tantrum, then with his free hand he forces her to face away from him and twisting the arm he holds behind her back at an uncomfortable angle and starts to march her through the winding corridors.

"Don't do this Thorin!" She cries trying to break from his hold but it's no use. His grasp is unmoving like the mountain around them.

Thorin doesn't answer her, instead he continues to lead her down the never ending halls and corridors towards the bedchambers where she will be kept under lock and key, safely tucked away from the treacherous scum of the company and outside world.

As he comes to his chosen rooms he pushes the unlocked door open with his boot and practically throws (Y/n) into the room.

(Y/n) stumbles and lands harshly on the cold stone of the bedchamber floor with her hands just barely breaking her fall. She can't believe this – that he has done this. That he well and truly believes the company is plotting against him, turning her against him. That he's resorted to locking her away from them all, including her niece.

She pushes up on her hands that sting from the impact and turns to glance over her shoulder at the person she thought she could trust only to see him with a hardened expression before he slams the door closed and locks it, sealing her away.

The audible click of the lock snaps something inside of her. The fear and worry and anguish melts away with the heat of the anger that flickers to life within her. She pushes herself to her feet and rushes to the door, tugging and pulling on it with as much force as she could muster only for it to barely rattle and shake against the hinges. Then she batters her fists against it, screaming curses and spitting venom as her knuckles scrape against the hardwood turning red raw before breaking the skin.

"You bastard!" She roars at the door as tears well up in her eyes from frustration and anger and hurt. "I'll never forgive you for this! Do you hear me?! Never!" Each and every word is followed with the sound of her hands beating against the door as she heaves and sobs.

Thorin stands on the other side of the door with a more somber expression. He knows that she's angry without her words or the sounds of her fists scraping against the wood but he has made the right decision in locking her away. It was only a matter of time before the company would try and steal her away from him, he knows this much is true. This is for her own sake as much as it is his own, and for that he knows that her words are not her own. She will thank him in the end, of that he is sure.

He straightens himself before he begins his journey back to his throne room with the key tucked safely away within his pocket.

Bilbo wanders the corridors of Erebor humming a tune to himself as he becomes acquainted with its walls and floors so as not to find himself lost without a good idea of where the halls lead. He's been wandering for some time, finding peace within the company of himself for once. Then he turns another corner and he can hear the faintest cry joined by another distant voice. Perplexed by the sound he finds himself following the sound, finding it steadily rising in volume until he has found its source.

He comes to a doorway with the door slightly ajar and crying coming from within the room. He steps closer, pressing a hand to the surface of the wood and gently pushing it further open.

"It's alright lass, don't cry." Bofur pats the child's back while rocking her gently as he tries and fails to soothe her sorrows.

"What's the matter?" He asks as he steps into the room with concern upon his brow as he takes in Ava's tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes.

Bofur tears his gaze from the solemn bairn for a moment startled by the sound of Bilbo's voice but quickly gathers his barings. "The wee one is tired but she willnae sleep."

The hobbit raises a brow. He knows children can be fussy when they're tired or hungry or lonely, generally children can be fussy when they're not understanding the emotions they're feeling.

"Why not?"

Bofur shushes her once again while rubbing circles on her back. "She's wanting her aunty (Y/n) to hold her."

"Ah." The noise slips out before he can realise. That much makes sense then. Bilbo finds his eyes scouring the room in search of the woman only to find she isn't there. Which begs the question; "Where is she?"

"She left a while ago to speak with Thorin but she hasnae come back yet."

That's strange. She doesn't find much to speak with Thorin these days, not that he's much good company in the first place, so why hasn't she returned yet?

"How long ago did she go?"

Bofur thinks about how long she has been gone for a moment before giving Bilbo a shrug. "I reckon a couple hours ago."

"And she's not back yet?" That's enough cause for concern for the hobbit. She is always punctual, she shouldn't be so long especially in a talk with Thorin. "Where on earth is she?"

Bofur has no idea where she could be. He knows himself that she usually disappears for an hour at the longest before coming back to the bairn before she starts to miss her aunty but this is the first time she has been away so long and the bairn is used to having her around next to every second of the day so naturally she is going to feel out of sorts. He feels for her, truly, he does.

"No, she's no." He shakes his head at that as he continues to hold the bairn and try to console her. "I haven't the faintest clue but the wee one is restless."

Bilbo hums in agreement. "I'll go have a look around. She might have gotten lost on the way back."

"If you don't mind going for a look then that'd be much appreciated."

Bilbo knows that Bofur is doing all that he can but the only solution to the issue is to find (Y/n) and everything will be alright once more.

"Of course." He straightens himself out before turning towards the door and sending a glance over his shoulder to the dwarf and the little human child within his care. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Dinnae cry wee Ava!" Bofur grins down at the child clinging to his side and for a moment her cries fall silent. "See our burglar here is gonna go fetch yer aunty and it'll be right as rain, eh?"

Bilbo trails the endless corridors and finds nothing but the cold stone beneath his toes. Not a hair of (Y/n)'s nor any other dwarves to be found and he sighs. The only other option for him is to approach the king and hope he is in a more jovial mood. That is all he can do is hope.

He soon finds himself before the entrance to the throne room that Thorin spends at least ninety percent of his time and braces himself for the worst while clutching his hope to his chest.

"Thorin?" Bilbo approaches Thorin warily unsure what his mood will be at this time but he has a question he must ask. He stands before the throne and meets Thorin's unwavering gaze.

Thorin doesn't respond; he simply stares at the hobbit in contemplative silence and Bilbo takes the silence as a motion for him to continue. "Do you know where (Y/n) is?"

Thorin's eyes bore into Bilbo's almost staring straight through him. Then he tilts his head back, an unreadable expression upon his face as he sits atop his throne. The stillness of it all in such a vast open space is unsettling and Bilbo has the urge to drop the subject and leave to resume his search.

"Why do you ask, master burglar?"

Bilbo can hear the undertones of his ire in how Thorin had addressed him and he shifts uncomfortably, his fingers rubbing together as his own nervous tick. Bilbo’s lips curve at the corners as he offers his friend a smile as a means to show that he harbours no ill intentions and simply wishes to know where she is.

"Ah, well, you see I've not seen her all day, nor any of the company have either, mind you, but Ava is getting quite upset and restless." The hobbit finishes with a shaky half grin while blinking rapidly from unease at the situation.

Thorin does not answer right away, no. Instead he lets the silence wash over them and watches as Bilbo becomes increasingly more anxious.

"She is resting." Comes his reply and Bilbo's brow furrows. Thorin is hiding something, he knows that he is. He's never been so casual nor so blunt with her absence and apparently resting, as he claims, but if that were true she would have collected her niece before turning in for the night. That, and this part is crucial, it's not even supper time yet.

"Ah, yes." He purses his lips thinking, thinking, thinking. Then he offers Thorin a more sincere smile and prepares to take his leave. "Well, I suppose I'll take Ava to her then–"

"You will do no such thing." Thorin's reply is instant cutting him off and not so much as giving (BB) enough time to truly step away from his spot.

Bilbo studies Thorin for a brief moment. The arch of his brow, his clenched jaw, fingertips digging into the arms of his throne. Why is he so angry..? And more importantly why has the thought of him bringing her niece to her brought about this anger..? He doesn't know. Unease crawls under his skin at not knowing her whereabouts and at Thorin's shortness of temper.

Thorin seems to realise he's frowning and deeply at that before shaking his head from left to right and fixing a stony expression upon his features as if his anger never were.

"She is resting, master burglar." He says trying to convince Bilbo with a weak smile of his own meant to placate his worries for the time being but instead it cements them. There is something knowing and borderline sinister beneath that smile. "It is best that we let our Seer rest."

The hobbit's head turns downwards to the floor beneath his feet but his eyes peer through his eyebrows at the dwarf that sits atop the throne. Then he raises his head, fixes a polite smile and nods. "Yes, yes, of course. I apologise, that was rather silly of me." He chuckles but its not humorous but rather a dry awkward sound. "Excuse me." Then the hobbit turns on his heels and makes a hasty retreat feeling the weight of Thorin’s stare on his back long after he has breached the confines of the throne room doors.

Bilbo retraces his steps back towards the rooms he had originally come from that housed the floppy hatted dwarf and the little one.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he stalks the hallways hoping to run into (Y/n) only to find no such luck. He comes to the open door and pauses just before coming to the opening. He has to regain his barings before coming to face the upset child so as not to further distress her in her aunty's absence.

It takes a few moments for him to calm his nerves enough to face coming to the opening in the door but he does. He walks towards it with the facade falling into place before he breaches the doorframe with his form and immediately his eyes settle on the dwarf whittling away before the fire. He takes a few steps into the room before (B) catches the movement.

"Bilbo there ye are lad." He begins with a smile setting his woodwork to the side and brushing the shavings from his coat before his eyes drift from the hobbit to behind him expecting to find (Y/n) behind him only to see the space empty and unoccupied. His smile falters and confusion fills his eyes; "Did ye find the lass?" He questions despite knowing the answer.

Bilbo offers him an awkward smile then shakes his head. "Uhm, no. Unfortunately I'm no closer to finding her than when I left.”

Bofur frowns at that. She should have come back around by now surely. She can't be lost – or is she? She could have lost her way in the halls and found herself in a collapsed mine somewhere. Mahal, he hopes not.

"Did ye ask Thorin?"

Now Bilbo tilts his head to the side and makes a face that Bofur would probably describe as a mixture between frustration, confusion, and irritation.

"I did..." He isn't sure how he can describe how his talk with Thorin went. Poorly, that's for certain. He just doesn't understand what is going on. He's not himself.

"But?"

But he is irrational, angry, irritable, ignorant. The list goes on. "He's not himself, Bofur." He says eventually then presses a hand to his forehead and the other rests on his hip.

Bofur gives him a softer look before nodding. "Aye lad. We know."

Bilbo presses his lips into a thin line as he collects his thoughts and goes over what happened in the throneroom between himself and Thorin and it makes him worried.

"But there's something else."

Now Bofur frowns, creating creases on his brow and next to his eyes at that. "Something else?"

He doesn't like the sound of that nor the implications. They're all worried for Thorin, of course they have been. Since entering the mountain the sickness has come hard and fast and he doesn't listen to anyone – not Balin, not Bilbo, not his nephews. No one. The one person he would at least somewhat listen to was (Y/n) and now she's not here.

Bilbo swallows thickly preparing to tell Bofur what happened. "When I asked him about (Y/n) he – well, he seemed more agitated that I mentioned Ava and disturbing her."

"Disturbing her?" He raises a brow at that. "So he knows where she is then?"

"He does."

Bofur makes a face at that. So Thorin knows where she is but won't disclose that to anyone? That's strange. Very, very strange. "And he wouldnae tell ye?"

"No."

Now Bofur's face scrunches up. "Why ever not?" He doesn't understand and it's frustrating.

Bilbo runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "He said she was resting."

"Resting?"

"Yep." Bilbo confirms popping the p and fidgeting with his fingers. "Resting."

Bofur doesn't like this. Sure he's not the sharpest tool in the box but he can see why Bilbo is so alarmed. There is something awfully wrong going on and he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't think Thorin would harm her after all that she has done for them – for him alone – but with her absence and him being so dismissive shows that something is afoot. Be it of a less sinister ordeal than his mind has laid out of him, Mahal, he hopes it's less sinister, or if it is he doesn't know what he would do.

He looks at Bilbo with just as much worry as the little hobbit. "The lass wouldnae have gone to rest without her wee one with her surely?"

Everyone in the company knows that she would never do that. The thought of it would never so much as cross her mind but he needs to confirm that she wouldn't leave her niece alone so that she could rest.

"That's the thing, we both know that she wouldn't do such a thing." Bilbo is basically shaking now. His fingers are fidgeting and he can't keep his foot from tapping against the floor. "She cares for Ava more than she cares for herself so even if she needed some time alone she would have taken Ava along with her. It doesn't make sense."

Dread. Sheer dead fills Bofur to the core knowing that he was right, that (Y/n) would never leave her bairn behind. Sure she leaves her within his care or the hobbits whenever she goes to speak with Thorin but that's about it. She loves the wee lass, they all do, but Thorin – he has had a nasty streak in him since the bairn came into the mix.

"Ye don't think he's done something do ye?" Despite asking, he's fearful of the answer. He almost doesn't want to hear Bilbo's answer but he has to have answers.

Bilbo opens his mouth to speak but no words follow. Then he closes it and reopens it several times as the words evade him. He doesn't have a straight answer. He hopes to Eru above that Thorin hasn't done something reckless and impulsive and hurt (Y/n) but unfortunately with how he has been lately he can't exactly rule it out as much as he wants to.

"I – I'm not sure Bofur." He answers honestly and as best he can because truthfully he does not know. He shakes his head cursing under his breath. "As much as I don't think him capable of doing something awful against (Y/n) but she's missing and he is eerily calm about it. He did get heated once I said I'd bring Ava to her so I can't be so sure something hasn't happened."

Bofur can see how distressed his hobbit friend is and truthfully he shares the sentiment. For now he can only hope she is okay and will turn up sooner or later. Until then he has a duty to keep Bilbo from freaking out and making sure the wee one is taken care of.

He places a hand on either shoulder of the hobbit and offers him his signature smile and hoping that the wobbles on his lips are unnoticeable.

"We can't know for sure at the moment lad." He says back to Bilbo to try and reassure him that there is a possibility she is okay and they're getting ahead of themselves. "She may be truly resting and Mahal knows she needs it. The lass hasnae had a moment tae hersel' since long before she became part o' the company."

That much is true and Bilbo knows it. She truly hasn't had a moment of peace away from the noise of them all or the responsibility of having to look after Ava. She could have decided with them safely within the mountain is the perfect time for her to have a moment of quiet.

Bilbo visibly relaxes. His shoulders drop and his stance stops being so tense. He nods, sending a grateful look to his friend. "I suppose that is true."

It is and he can't fault her if it is true, but if something has happened to her – Eru he doesn't think he'd have the strength to continue. He needs to stop thinking so sourly. She will come back, whole and healthy and happy. Positive thoughts only Bilbo.

"If we dinnae catch sight o' her t'morra morn then I'll help ye look for her." He squeezes Bilbo's shoulders as a means to support him before letting his hands fall slack at his sides.

For some reason that surprised him. Of course Bofur cares deeply for her too as her friend but for some unknown reason he didn't expect him to so quickly offer to help him look for her.

"Thank you Bofur, truly." And he means it. He is very grateful to have made a friend such as he.

Bofur doesn't respond, instead he smiles warmly at him before stepping away and settling himself before the fire and continuing with his craft.

Bilbo, feeling lighter than when he first entered the rooms, glances around only to see another, far smaller figure is missing.

"Where is Ava?" He asks, giving the room another quick look over. "I've not heard a peep from her since I've come back?"

"Oh, the wee lass passed out from exhaustion." Comes Bofur's response, accompanied by the sound of his knife peeling away a layer of wood, and Bilbo sighs a breath of relief. "I've tucked her intae a makeshift bed in the corner there. Poor wee thing. She's no used to being without family an she's awfy fond a' her aunty (Y/n)."

Poor wee thing indeed. The world is hard enough to navigate for him and he's a bloody adult hobbit, nevermind the young human from beyond the stars.

Bilbo approaches the fire and flops down onto the floor feeling the weight of the past hour like a ton of bricks.

"I'm glad she's managed to sleep."

"Aye," then comes the sound of the knife against the wood. "She needed it."

There's an audible click behind (Y/n) as the door is unlocked and she can't help but turn from the fire and hurry onto her feet to see who has come either to free her or to keep her locked away. God, she has such high hopes it is the former.

The door is pushed open slowly, gently in stark contrast to how he left it. Immediately upon seeing him her ire has flickered to life once more and she scoffs at the mere sight of him.

Thorin sighs at her reaction to seeing him but he isn't surprised. A mere few hours sat within the company of herself would do little to rectify her tainted perception of him, especially when he had to force her here to begin with.

He steps into the room carrying a tray with a single bowl of stew and a waterskin. He watches her as she stands before the fire, bathed in its red and orange glow and anger has never looked so solemn, it has never looked so sad.

"Oh my apologies, your highness." (Y/n) spits bitterly with a mock bow. Unable to contain her anger any longer, her face scrunched up in a concoction of anger and disgust of seeing him so soon. "Had I known you'd be making an appearance so soon I'd have rolled out the red carpet."

Thorin sighs, slumping his shoulders. He knew she would still be angry but he had hoped that it would have died down at least a little.

"I did not come to fight." He says simply in a voice much more his own but quieter, softer. It's everything he wasn't when he regarded her in the throne room but (Y/n) knows better than to believe that he's rid of the sickness.

(Y/n) turns her nose up at him before turning back to the fire. "What a pity."

Thorin can't say that he is proud of what happened nor of what he had said, but he meant it. This is for the betterment of herself, something she scarcely considers.

"I brought supper." He offers as he places the tray on a nearby table with a light tap before returning to and locking the door behind him.

The sound of the door clicking shut doesn't go unnoticed by (Y/n). She hadn't thought he would be so careless to forget to do so but she had hoped. She had hope for a brief moment but now it is gone. Leaving nothing but bitterness on her tongue.

She doesn't so much as face him, instead she focuses her ire and anguish on the flames, practically feeding it with her temper making the flames crackle as it feeds on the discarded wood and her ire.

"I'm not hungry." She barks back at him but even if she was, she wouldn't eat what he had brought her. God only knows what he could have done to it.

Thorin knows that that is a lie. She hasn't eaten anything since the morning and at least twelve hours have been and gone since then. He sighs to himself. Speaking with her now will be much like pulling teeth and he knows it but he needs to get her to eat something, anything. Even a morsel so long as she eats something. There's no use in saying he will protect her if he cannot even save her from herself.

"You need to eat." He insists but she doesn't answer.

Eating and drinking and sleeping might be essential to her survival, yes, but that isn't what she needs. What she needs is to be free to come and go as she pleases, talk with whomever she likes about whatever subject she fancies, or at least be able to sit within these four walls with her niece. The four year old would be far better company anyhow.

Quiet settles between them as (Y/n) refuses to speak to him. The only sound to be heard in the emptiness is the crackle of the fire and even that after a moment grates on her nerves.

"Where's Ava?" She asks after a moment of silence only to be met with more silence. She frowns before turning to face him to see that he too is now frowning. "Where is she, Thorin." This time she's not asking, she's demanding to know where her niece is.

Thorin knew she would ask the whereabouts of her niece, of course she would, they've been joined at the hip since they came together in the forest before they came to (SC)'s barn.

Unfortunately for him he knows that the child is a distraction, something sent to them as a means to draw her away, to divert her attention to much less important things. He doesn't truly believe that the child is her niece as she claims but rather an imposter. Something sinister conjured by dark forces to try and steal away his Seer and his mountain and his gold. He won't fall prey to it. Not now that he has seen the truth.

"A Seers duty is first and foremost to her king. Not to a brat." he begins in an authoritative tone daring her to speak against him,

A brat. He had called her that before and it upset her, now – now it angers her down to her very core.

"A king's first duty is to his kingdom," she counters with a glare worth the weight of her entire being with her jaw clenched, "not jewels."

Thorin's anger flares then, so much so (Y/n) could see it flickering to life within his blue eyes. He clenches his fists at his sides and sends her a heated glare that could scorn her skin and leave burning blisters in its wake. "The Arkenstone is the king's jewel! It is my right!"

(Y/n) stands with her hands beginning to tremble at her sides as she shakes with unwavering rage. "And freedom is my right!" She damn near screams at him in her frustration but he is unphased by the volume of her voice. "But here I am," she raises her hands gesturing to the four walls that she's trapped within and laughs bitterly, "locked away because you cannot see sense!"

He needs to breathe before his temper flares and he does something reckless – something he will soon regret. He draws a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, then clenches his jaw hard enough that he could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another.

"There is one of us who is blind to the truth," he says lowly through his clenched jaw trying and failing to contain his anger, "and it is not I."

(Y/n) scoffs at that. Of course he is blind to the truth when he hears nothing but the cold, cold whispers of gold. "Where is the sense in this?! In any of this?!"

As far as she is concerned he could give her ten thousand reasons as to why she should remain within these four walls and she wouldn't care. There is nothing that could constitute a reason for her being locked away from the light.

Thorin flexes his fingers, draws another deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. "You cannot see that they are using you – manipulating you for their own gain – I have seen it! I have heard it! I am doing this for your own good (Y/n). Do not question me any further!"

(Y/n) can see the stiffness of his shoulders, how tautly he's clenched his jaw, and now the twitching of his fingers and alarms are going off in her head. If she continues down this path she can't be sure that he won't hurt her as a means to silence her questions and force her into compliance – but family is more important. She needs to know where her only family is – that she is safe.

(Y/n)'s anger's sharp edge's give way and buckle to her fear and worry. Her eyes glaze over with tears and she has to rip her gaze from him before he can see how upset she truly is.

"Thorin," she begins meekly, fighting back the shakiness of her vocals. "Where is Ava?"

Thorin caught sight of every change in (Y/n)'s face. Seeing the blaze that once was her fury flicker and die before giving way to something somber. Something akin to melancholy and grief, and he had never felt so hurt for seeing that look in someone else's eyes... but it doesn't erase his anger at her defiance nor disrespect.

Thorin keeps his gaze fixed on (Y/n) watching for any change in her stance or otherwise but finds she's devoid of all previous anger and malice, without any energy left to fight him.

He closes his eyes, breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth once more.

"The brat is with the company." He finally answers but (Y/n) wishes he hadn't.

"Stop calling her that!" She snaps her gaze to meet his and raises her voice but it's not a shout but a cry and her tears begin to fall faster than she can wipe them away.

"That thing isn't your niece, (Y/n)." He spits the word as if it were poison in his mouth and (Y/n) sobs louder shaking her head. Thorin is unmoved by the waterworks, this is a bandage that needs to be ripped off and the sooner the better. "Surely you know that."

(Y/n)'s emotions are everywhere. She's angry – furious at him, hurt by him – she's scared and confused. She doesn't know what he's talking about now but he speaks with such assurance it's worrying her. Worrying for her niece's safety.

"What are you talking about?" Despite asking, she's terrified to hear his answer. Nothing good can come of this and of that she is sure.

Thorin stares at her for a moment in silence following each and every tear as they fall from her eyes before he opens his mouth to speak. "That thing out there that you've been so concerned about, is not your kin."

(Y/n)'s face morphs from anguish to confusion and anger once more. "What the fuck are you talking about Thorin–?!"

"You'll do well to mind your tongue in my presence!" He cuts her off with a low snarl and a step in her direction. "Anger or not, I won't tolerate that language directed towards me!"

She frowns at him and wipes the remainder of her tears with the back of her hands. She ignores his warning and snarls back at him feeling her anger return tenfold. "You bastard! You take away my freedom, my friends, my family–"

He pushes from his spot as his patience has worn out and marches right up to her and stops just shy of a foot from where she stands before the fire. He glares down at her with the weight of the entire mountain forcing her into silence. "That is not your family. That thing is an imposter." His voice is low and dangerous, threatening her with his tone alone. "An imposter sent to distract you from your duties and lead you astray."

(Y/n) has never been so intimidated as she is right now. Sure she's been made to feel small, weak, helpless from foes and others alike – but never felt such fear as she does now locked in a room with a very erratic, heated, and sick Thorin standing over her and blocking her between himself and the scorching flames of the fire.

Thorin glares down at her, his eyes darting between her own. He can see how frightful she is now that he is standing over her but he cannot make himself stand down. He knows if he bends to her emotions now the next time keeping her in line will be far more difficult. This is for the best, he reminds himself, she will see reason.

(Y/n) wants nothing more than to press her hands to his chest and push with all her might and send him flying several feet back to create some distance between them but she can't. She's rooted in her fear, unable to move - to think - to breathe. She can only stare at him as the fear consumes her from the inside.

The silence engulfs her and the crackles of the fire become nothing more than background noise. She has to find the words to convince him that that is her niece! She needs to find her voice so she can shout, scream, plead, and beg for him to believe her!

Her mouth opens but no words come from her lips. Then she closes her mouth before opening it again; "She is my family." She says in nothing more than a whisper but Thorin hears it as if she had screamed the words in his ear. "She is my blood – I know her like the back of my hand. If that weren't my niece out there I'd know long before you would."

Thorin continues to stare deep into her eyes but his jaw is clenched. Its clear he doesn't like the fact she chooses to still defy him, to continue to ignore everything he has said to her. She has the free will to choose her battles and it appears that this is the hill she wishes to die on. If she wants blood then so be it.

He turns from her with a snarl and storms away from her then. He has had enough of today. All he has done is for her safety, her comfort, her happiness – and for what? To be met with nothing but claws and fangs at every turn. He's sick of it. Sick of her attitude.

"Listen and listen well (Y/n) because I will not repeat myself." Thorin begins with eyes set ablaze as he stares at (Y/n) sobbing quietly to herself. "You will stay in this room until the end of days before I bend to your tears. They do not faze me, I am made of stone and steel. A mountain does not bow to the ocean." He pauses, shaking his head as he collects his thoughts. "Do you hear me? You will not set foot outside of this room, the heat of the sun will not grace your skin if I do not grant it permission to do so! You may think that I am all fire and brimstone but you are wrong. In time you will come to see how merciful I have been and on that day you will beg and plead my forgiveness, perhaps with more tears than you have shed today, and on that day you will feel not the cold of the mountain but the warmth from its forges."

Then he unlocks the door without a second glance in her direction and locks it behind him, leaving her to sob into the comfort of herself and the dying fire behind her.

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