A/N Here we are, at the end of this story. Thank you for sticking with this story so far and I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't expecting the epilogue to take the form it took here, it just surprised me XD I've had loads of fun with this story and if things work out as I want them I will have a sequel posted pretty soon :) Also I might post a series of oneshots related to this it, but not connected to each other. Tell me if you would be interested in reading something like that and I will post them as soon as I can. Thank you, again, for all your reviews/favorites/follows. You are awesome!
Disclaimer: Unbetaed... I don't own The Hobbit.
Epilogue: In whispers... danger
In the old fortress, a shadow rises from the depth of the rock and glides effortlessly over forests and hills. It is unsure where it is going, being driven only by faint whispers at the edge of its consciousness. The shadow is only able to hear a pale murmur that leads it forward, towards the newly reclaimed Kingdom under the Mountain. There something is hidden… there something waits to be found…
Formless and unseen, it glides over rock and stone and enters the Mountain leaving only an unnatural chill in its path. It sees the Spymaster of Erebor, blending in the shadows, ever vigilant, despite the pain that twists his features and the slight sluggishness of his movements.
The shadow moves past the miners that work in the depth; there is a faint whisper there, but not the one it is seeking so it does not even glance in the direction of the two Broadbeam dwarves that lead the excavation, one older and with an axe embedded in his forehead and the other younger, wearing a funny hat and limping at every step.
After the mines, it sees the library, but there is nothing there to call it, so the shadow moves forward; behind it the Head Scribe shivers, whether in cold or unnatural fear, he does not know and plays with his mittens to cast warmth back in his hands.
There is a faint murmur in the training grounds, as if something had been there and had left an imprint. The shadow pauses ever so slightly to find its path again and looks in contempt at the two Durin heirs that still stand strong despite the war they had taken part in. Next to them the Head of the Guards is training recruits for the new army of Erebor; the coldness spread by the shadow gets stronger at this sight for it abhors the sight of the heirs of those who fought against its Master during the Last Alliance and lived to tell the tale.
After a few moments the whispers starts again and the shadow allows itself to be lead towards the Throne Room. There it sees The King under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, darting glances left and right as if he too can hear the seductive lull at the back of his mind. However, the Throne Room is not the last stop so the shadow moves forward.
In the end it arrives in the treasure room; there, forgotten under piles of coins and baubles lays a small silver ring with a red gem encrusted in it. It is a trinket, nothing more, from the days before the fall of Eregion and Ost-in-Edhil, but for the shadow it turns into a tool; that ring, one of the many Minor Rings of Power had been touched by the hand of Sauron. The Curse of Durin already hovers above the heads of the King under the Mountain and his Heirs. This ring could hasten the fate that already awaited them.
Still, the whisper does not come from that particular ring, rather it is spread everywhere in each coin and golden goblet. The treasure remembers it. Something strong had been used around it and left an imprint Under the Mountain, something other than the power of the Dragon, something that the shadow's Master needed. Something that was no longer there…
Silently snarling in fury the shadow turns and heads back to Dol Guldur. One day the object that whispers will return…