Author's Note: This is just a silly little fic born out of a delightful conversation with my dear friend citadela on fanfiction.net, and out of a funny doodle I made.
"And those who doubted us will rue this day!" Thorin roared, shaking the Erebor key in his hand, the secret door finally ajar in front of him, and the company shouted and cheered in their triumph.
Which ebbed couple hours later when the Halfling, who'd gone down to find the Arkenstone, didn't come back. And then the level of enthusiasm from the company dropped even lower, when a deafening rumble of what definitely wasn't an earthquake rushed through the mountain.
Balin softly nudged Thorin towards the door, claiming that they needed to make sure the burglar was alright. Thorin swallowed his suggestion for the old geezer to go and check on the Halfling himself, and made a few cautious steps towards the door.
"I fear for you, Thorin," Balin continued droning at the background. "You're not yourself."
He'd be a roasted mu