Can I just say that Thorin had a pretty shitty life? Like first his home is stolen from a dragon, then his grandfather and King dies alongside his little brother, I mean his LITTLE BROTHER. I don’t know what I’d do if my nephew died or if any of my siblings or even my mom died. His father went missing only to be killed, then his nephews die and then he dies after accomplishing his goal. Like ughhhhhh
But lets be real majority of Tolkien’s character have a depressing storyline. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON DIS
A/n: A filler chapter. Well, one of ? filler chapters lol
You clutch Thorin’s hand, nervously.
It had been YEARS since you last saw King Thranduil. The other elves had stood in your place for meetings that he had with Dale so you never got to see him. You never went to Mirkwood, when meetings called for it, either. One, because of Thranduil, and two, because of your parents.
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.
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.
It was therefore perhaps partly by the malice of the Ring that Thráin after same years became restless and discontented. The lust for gold was ever in his mind. At last, when he could endure it no longer, he turned his thoughts to Erebor, and resolved to go back there. He said nothing to Thorin of what was in his heart; but with Balin and Dwalin and a few others, he arose and said farewell and departed.
Little is known of what happened to him afterwards. It would now seem that as soon as he was abroad with few companions he was hunted by the emissaries of Sauron. Wolves pursued him, Orcs waylaid him, evil birds shadowed his path, and the more he strove to go north the more misfortunes opposed him. There came a dark night when he and his companions were wandering in the land beyond Anduin, and they were driven by a black rain to take shelter under the eaves of Mirkwood. In the morning he was gone from the camp, and his companions called him in vain. They searched for him many days, until at last giving up hope they departed and came at length back to Thorin. Only long after was it learned that Thráin had been taken alive and brought to the pits of Dol Guldur. There he was tormented and the Ring taken from him, and them at last he died.
Tolkien, J.R.R.. Appendix A. (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1993.) 1114
“…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…”