Transmigrate to the world of The Lord of the Rings?

[General POV]

The meeting had concluded, and both the elves and the humans were retreating to the valley, where they would prepare their men for the inevitable confrontation. It was only a matter of time, and they needed to be swift. It would be a hectic night, and ensuring their men rested properly was essential.

In the royal chamber, Bilbo was facing a calm and calculating Thorin. The meeting had offered Thorin a brief reprieve, a chance to regain a fragment of his sanity. At that moment, he desired solitude, but the small hobbit had intercepted him with the excuse of having something important to give him. Thorin suspected that the hobbit's absence from the meeting was for this very reason.

Standing beside the hobbit was Balin. What was this dwarf doing there? Of course, he was there to support Bilbo. The hobbit had informed Balin that, after the meeting, he intended to give Thorin the Arkenstone, a decision Balin did not agree with. Despite this, a faint glimmer of hope had arisen that Thorin might recover, so Balin didn't hesitate and supported the little hobbit. Besides, if something went wrong, he would be there to intervene.

Massaging his forehead, Thorin looked at the two. "So, what do you plan to give me, my good friend?" he asked in a tired voice.

Bilbo, with sweaty hands and a dry mouth, stepped forward despite his nervousness. "Thorin… while I was searching through your treasure, I found this," he said as he pulled a radiant stone from his pocket. It gleamed like a star itself, with countless colors sparkling now and then. There, before Thorin Oakenshield, the most valuable treasure was revealed.

Thorin leapt from his throne, his face ecstatic at such beauty. Such a jewel stirred something within him, awakening with renewed strength. "The Heart of the Mountain," he whispered. Obsession filled his eyes, his dilated pupils speaking volumes. Thorin Oakenshield had succumbed to madness.

"My treasure!" he roared, snatching the Arkenstone from the hobbit's hands, admiring it with great jubilation. "It's my treasure," he murmured with fascination. His ears caught only the crackle of the torches as his great treasure now rested in his palm. But as he turned and admired it in his madness, he saw something.

A small hobbit, cowering in fear. "He had it. He's a thief," a voice whispered in his ear, like a demon urging him on. "No, Bilbo was only doing his part," another voice argued for the hobbit. "No, he's a thief!" The other voice took control of Thorin. His obsessed eyes focused entirely on the trembling hobbit, who sweated under such a gaze.

"You hid it! You planned to keep it! Thief!" Thorin roared with deep indignation, forcing the hobbit to stumble backward awkwardly. Bilbo stared at him in disbelief, his mouth agape and his clumsy steps betraying his feelings.

"No… no, that's not true," Bilbo stammered, the profound pain of Thorin's accusations cutting through him like a blade.

"I swear I only wanted to give it to you!" he pleaded one last time, trying to reason with Thorin, but it was all in vain.

"You lie!" Thorin shouted, turning his gaze to Balin. "Kill the thief!" he commanded, causing Bilbo to fall onto his rear at such words. Would Balin comply? Of course not. The elder dwarf looked at Thorin with deep disappointment and pity.

With teary eyes, Balin met Thorin's gaze. "No, Thorin. Bilbo is not to blame… It's my fault for allowing him to give you the gem," he said. Deep down, he regretted supporting the hobbit's idea. Thorin Oakenshield no longer reflected in his eyes; now, only a mad king intent on killing his friends stood where the great Thorin once had.

"What nonsense are you saying!" Thorin bellowed with fury, approaching Balin and striking him down with a heavy blow. The elder dwarf closed his eyes in deep sorrow.

In that moment, as Thorin saw the old figure lying on the ground, something within him made him step back in disbelief. "No, no, no, no," he muttered harshly, clutching his head. The Arkenstone slipped from his grasp.

"Get out of here, Bilbo!" he shouted with what little reason he had left, directing his cry at the small hobbit who was still trembling on the ground.

At some point, Balin had risen, a faint bruise visible on his left cheek. "Quickly, Bilbo, we must leave him alone," Balin urged.

He helped the still-frightened Bilbo to his feet, and together they hurried out of the royal chamber, leaving Thorin alone.

In solitude, Thorin had regained some composure. His head hung low, and his soft panting revealed the immense difficulty of restraining himself.

-----

"Are you not staying, Aldril?" Kili asked. After the meeting, Aldril joined the dwarves, who, considering themselves to be on "good terms" with him, allowed themselves to celebrate their victory against the dragon.

Aldril, with his usual smile, shook his head slightly. "I have an important role to play, and the people of the valley need me," he said, much to the dismay of the young dwarf, who saw Aldril as a good friend.

"Scoundrel! Tomorrow, I swear I'll beat you!" A wild Glóin appeared behind Kili, hurling curses at Aldril and pointing at him. It was a small game Aldril had picked up from Legolas and Gimli, but it seemed Glóin had taken the competition very personally.

Shrugging, Aldril gave him a mocking look. "Sure, but the loser has to dance naked," he added fuel to the bet, eliciting laughter from the surrounding dwarves.

A hesitation crossed Glóin's face, seen by the other members of the expedition, who began to egg him on with various comments.

"Come on, Glóin, you're not a coward, are you?" said Bofur.

"Glóin the cowardly dwarf," Fili added mockingly.

"That has a nice ring to it! Glóin the Coward! I'll be sure to tell Gimli," Kili chimed in, supporting his brother's joke.

The taunts filled Glóin's scalp with heat as he clenched his fists and finally gave in with a shout. "Fine! The loser will dance naked!" Forced by the pressure, he had no choice but to agree.

With a stifled laugh, Aldril nodded, and the other dwarves cheered, celebrating the grand wager. Their dignity was at stake, but Aldril didn't mind; he was confident he would win. After all, he had been beating Glóin since the start of the journey.

It was at that precise moment of joy and celebration that a frightened hobbit appeared. He froze at the sight of everyone present but quickly recovered. His pale face and sweaty hands were visible to Aldril's sharp eye, who immediately approached him with measured steps.

"What's wrong, Bilbo? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, reflecting his concern for the small hobbit.

"It's better if you go with Aldril, Bilbo," came an unexpected reply, tired and filled with sadness. It was Balin, his weary face visible to all the others. Upon seeing the mark of a blow on his cheek, the dwarves approached him, alarmed and angry.

"What happened, Balin?" Nori asked, his voice barely containing his fury. "Did one of those new dwarves hit you?" He frowned at the thought.

"Who hit you, Balin? Let's give them a beating!" Kili and Fili said, thoroughly indignant. Balin was a beloved dwarf, and they couldn't imagine anyone daring to hurt him.

With a touch of subdued joy softening his sorrows, Balin didn't want to explain much. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed their concerns. But Aldril's insistence and piercing gaze made him speak reluctantly.

"It was Thorin..."

A single name silenced all the dwarves who had been complaining. Kili and Fili exchanged incredulous looks, being the ones closest to Thorin besides Balin, making it difficult to believe. But would Balin lie about such a thing? Of course not.

On the other side, Aldril shook his head with sorrow and a hint of annoyance. How could Thorin do something so foolish? But recalling the madness taking root within him, Aldril understood. Something must have triggered Thorin to descend into such madness as to strike his dear advisor and trusted friend.

Instinctively, Aldril focused his gaze on Bilbo, who was still trembling with fear—a sight that only increased his irritation. Between Thorin and Bilbo, he would always choose the kind and noble hobbit. If it weren't for the approaching orcs, he might have gone to knock some sense into Thorin himself.

"The details don't matter... Aldril, take Bilbo with you," Balin said in a low voice, shaking his head. "Thorin…" After a deep breath, he continued, "Thorin ordered Bilbo's execution."

***

Filthy orcs!

The next chapter will be up on Sunday, we have to start off on the right foot and run for the top! even the first chapters of my new fic will be uploaded.

15 advance chapter in "[email protected]/Mrnevercry"