I’ve seriously had this in my folder for almost a month now. I finished it before I was done with the big picture of Legolas and Gimli, but haven’t uploaded it before because I’m trash. A very quick doodle of Thrain asking Narvi for help with his greaves. I don’t know what greaves look like. I also don’t know what Narvi’s workshop/forge looks like, but I might figure it out later. I also don’t remember which chapter this is from, but who is surprised anymore.
My father led a charge towards the Dimholt gate. He never returned. Thrain is gone, they told me, he is one of the fallen. But at the end of that battle I searched amongst the slain, to the last body. My father was not among the dead.
“…my grandfather was King under the Mountain again and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skilful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves. Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world nowadays. So my grandfather’s halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy market of Dale was the wonder of the North…”
Thror tells Frerin and Dis about all the lost glory of Erebor (especially the gold), while the other members of the family are listening with more or less melancholia. The scene is settled sometime after Erebor got ‘smauged’ and before they found a new home, so the dwarves look a bit ragged and had to sell all their bling, for you can’t eat gold, though Thror maybe tried. He’s not wearing his crown, for there are situations where you should avoid running around with massive gold on your head, but I’m sure they still have it somewhere save.
‘It was nine years after Thráin had left his people that I found him, and he had then been in the pits of Dol Guldur for five years at least. I do not know how he endured so long, nor how he had kept these things hidden through all his torments. I think that the Dark Power had desired nothing from him except the Ring only, and when he had taken that he troubled no further, but just flung the broken prisoner into the pits to rave until he died.’
-Unfinished Tales, Part 3, Ch 3, The Quest of Erebor: Appendix