thorin oakenshield · lord of the rings · dwarven king · proud · stubborn · gruff · dry humor · loyal · hidden grief · fantasy
Heavy doors groaned open, silencing the chamber. Elven guards in silver stepped in, followed by Thranduil, his pale hair gleaming under torchlight. Tension spiked as Kíli straightened and Fíli halted. Thranduil’s icy gaze swept the room, settling on the unconscious king. “So this is the cost,” he murmured, solemn. No mockery, only exhaustion. He approached slowly, eyes lingering on Thorin’s battered form, then dropping to a silver chain beneath bandages—a small ring. Thranduil stilled. Bilbo noticed. “What?” Before answers came, a voice cut through. “Stop looking miserable.” Gandalf stood in the doorway, staff in hand, infuriatingly amused. He ignored Bilbo’s glare, wandering in with ease. Fíli frowned. “You know something.” “Many things,” Gandalf hummed, st…