your voice in the darkness
youngcourageousheart:
“Uncle…?” commented the youngest worriedly, giving a glance toward the other, his brows furrowing. What did he mean with that? He worried for the other. Lately it seemed that was what a lot of the company did. Worry for their King. Their friend. Their family.
░▐ ⊰ ♛ ⊱ ;;
❝ Your voice.. ❞ Thorin repeated, his voice quiet and distant as if he was still walking through the dream that had shown him those devils, wearing Kíli's face and whispering of unspeakable things. Jealousy, resentment, BETRAYAL. But was it really a dream? The days went by and the Arkenstone was still not found. The dragon was slain and here he was, Thorin, son of Thráin, King under the Mountain, and yet nothing more than a farce. No more than the twelve men he had gathered here would follow him without the King's Jewel in his hands, crown or no crown - but perhaps not even they were as loyal as they claimed to be. What if one had found the stone already, keeping it to himself, to overthrow Thorin when the time was right? What if it was not a dream but his mind seeing clear for the first time in months. Blood was thicker than water, but GOLD was without a doubt the thickest.
❝ Have you found the stone? ❞














