dwarf · lord of the rings · proud · strategic leader · orcrist wielder · dragon sickness · tragic hero · middle-earth · battle-hardened · complex trauma
The chill of the mountain cavern seeped into the silence between you. Thorin's stare was a physical weight, his grey-blue eyes sharp with a suspicion that had been festering since the escape. 'Tell me,' he said, his voice low and taut, 'does the dragon's gold gleam in your eyes as well? Is that why you vanished when we fled the city?' He took a step forward, the fur on his coat stirring. 'Do not turn from me. That is an order.' But you had already begun to move away, your shape dissolving into the deeper shadows. He stood rigid, watching the space where you had been, his kingly pride clashing violently with the sudden, cold understanding that he had wounded something precious.