Experience

Mellow Soulmate AU and Hobbit crossover.  There's a reason no one goes down to the shore.  Think of this as part of the same side-story as "Broken", where Thorin is negotiating with Maedhros.  That's how their lives intersect.  If this exteme AU bugs you, this story ain't for you.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the characters.

Pairings: none

Characters: Thorin, Maglor, Maedhros (Fíli, Kíli, Thrór and Mahal (Aulë or The Maker) mentioned)

Warning: extreme AU, the stubbornness of dwarves, elves being elves, semi-explicit blood and violence, allusion to murder and mental illness, premonition

Song: Water Night

Words: 1,602
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experience (noun): practical knowledge, skill, or practice derived from direct observation of or participation in events or in a particular activity; something personally encountered, undergone or lived through
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/experience

"Believe me, Master Dwarf, the shores are better left undisturbed, un-experienced.  None who venture there return unchanged."

No further explanation had been given for why the shores of Himring were to go untouched and not traversed.  Curiosity and no small amount of suspicion, however, had led the dwarrow to go exactly where he had been instructed to avoid.

At first, he did not understand the words Lord Maedhros had spoken, for the shores seemed peaceful.  The moon was at his full height, silver against the gentle waves foaming up upon the beach.  Except for the breath and movement of the sea, there was not a sound to disturb the silence heavy in the air, augmented by the gleaming stars watching the world from above.

And then he heard it.

Deep and rolling across the land, across his flesh, was a voice.  Were he to name it, Thorin would not call it an elven trill, but neither of any timbre he could recognize.  It was smoother than a dwarven voice, rich and honeyed, but certainly not the voice of a man either.  If he had to put a name to it, Thorin might have claimed it was the voice of Mahal shaking the earth to its foundations, vibrating down to its core, powerful enough to move mountains and spill oceans.

Certainly, as it rushed through and around him, embracing him in its soft syllables, it shook Thorin to his foundations.  More ancient than all the land and the sky, so soft and yet carrying for what could have been miles in all direction, flowing over the land like the wind.  How such a sound could belong to a mortal creature, the dwarrow could not imagine.  He was not much of a man for beauty of the voice, but none could deny this voice its dues.

Helplessly, the dwarrow felt his eyes fluttering shut, and he did not see the dark-haired figure slowly walking up the beach, dark hair whipping away from his face as his bare feet left faint prints to be smeared by the gentle waves.

No, Thorin saw nothing of it.  Melody consumed him, enveloped him in a reality tangible enough to breathe into his lungs and fill his spirit.  Yet even as he did, the sorrow, the sheer regret of the lamentation rising over the world engulfed him, poured the woes of the voice into him and filled him up to overflowing, until he wanted to throw himself down and cover his ears, to weep, to make it cease but never let it end.

Upon the back of his eyelids, the colors began to morph and merge like a living thing, a vision writhing its way into his mind.  A vision of terrified faces and contorted bodies and bloody hands.  A vision of the downfall of arrogance and greed, a familiar glowing jewel that seared into flesh down to the bone.  A vision of vanishing beloved faces and nothing left but dark emptiness.  And if those faces were young and familiar, dark and golden together, he did not allow himself to further recognize them lest he lose himself in their empty, dead eyes.

Despair fell over the dwarrow, pulling him down into earth and shadows and chaining him there, apart from the world.  Thorin could not remember his own name in that moment, or that the peaceful shore was just before his eyes should he choose to open them.

The melody wove into reality and burned it, twisting it into blood and death and pain beyond imagining.  Loneliness beyond imagining.

Just when he thought it would shatter him completely, the sound ceased.  Silence laid heavy over his body and soul, broken again only by the breath and movement of the sea upon the shore.  Gasping, he came heavily from the trance, eyes snapping open and staring into the purest mithril.

"You should not have come here, Master Dwarf," the strange elf said to him in that voice.  Just hearing it speak the Common Tongue made him shudder in remembrance and shameful terror.  The flash of blood-streaked walls and empty, cold chambers in his mind's eye left him colder than the wind off the water ever could.

"Who... what... are you?" Thorin rasped, rooted to the spot, unable to move but too prideful to stand in horrified awe at the creature before him.

Dark hair tangled by the wind whipped around the tall figure whose face and form brought to mind the sharp angles of Lord Maedhros' dour face.  Only the eyes were not cold and stern.  They were open and filled, gleaming as if in tears, but no tears fell.  Those eyes on him cut deeper than bone and laid him bare.

The strange elf inclined his head, staring down at the dwarrow. "What did you see, Master Dwarf?"

He wanted to tell the other that it was none of his damn business, but the words would not come.  Instead... "Emptiness.  Loneliness."

Humming, the stranger nodded and looked out over the sea. "You should take care not to let history repeat itself, Master Dwarf.  The shadow of silent halls and empty gold lies upon your fëa.  And a glowing stone." Thorin looked up sharply but said nothing. "Surely there are things you value more than lifeless trinkets."

Rage burst in his chest.  How dare that elf? "You know nothing of it!" he snarled.  This elf would dare defile the memory of his home and mock the glory of the treasures of the House of Durin! "Nothing of it!"

Unintimidated, the elf smiled the saddest smile Thorin had ever seen. "Oh, but I do, Master Dwarf," the voice said, and within it reverberated that otherworldliness, like something kindled of divine Flame. "When the choice is upon you, will you let your greed overshadow the true gifts The Maker has given unto you?  Or will you embrace that which truly matters?"

Sputtering, Thorin absolutely refused to let himself be swayed.  What on earth did the elf expect him to value above his home and the safety of his people?  Above the Arkenstone? "Truly matters?  Of course my home matters!"

"Your home," the elf murmured thoughtfully. "What would you give to have it back, Master Dwarf?"

"Anything," he growled. "I would give anything to have back what is rightfully mine, to return my people to their rightful home and glory!"

Something in those eyes was both pitying and mocking, and it infuriated the dwarrow. "Dangerous words, you speak, Master Dwarf." The elf shook his head and turned away. "I hope the cold light of the Heart of the Mountain and the golden glow of lifeless treasure please your soul.  But you should know that they do nothing to quell loneliness or emptiness."

How the elf knew so much, how he seemed to see right through Thorin, it was disturbing.  He was all too grateful to be out of the sight of those deep eyes, endless stars that glowed in the night. "You know nothing of it," he repeated hoarsely.

"Maybe not," the stranger whispered as he walked away, seemingly uninterested in carrying on their argument. "I do wonder, though," he said, pausing for just a moment, "if you know the meaning of the word anything."

"Of course I do," Thorin snarled. "There is nothing I possess that I value enough that I would not sacrifice it for my home and my people, my birthright!"

"So be it, then." The smile was back, sad and cold and somehow darker, as if something of devious fate lurked beneath the pale exterior. "I do believe your determination with win you your mountain back one day, Master Dwarf.  Maybe then you will understand that such oaths should not be spoken lightly in the heat of passion."

And then he was gone like the wind, vanished into the darkness.  Thorin could hear nothing but the sea and was in the company only of the blanket of the sky and her twinkling stars.

It was true.  He would have given anything to have Erebor once more, and maybe not for such fantastical and admirable reasons as he would have others know.  But nevertheless, he could not let it go.  Erebor was as much a part of him as his arms and legs, and to be away from it was like cutting a chunk of his body away, leaving something vital missing.

Still as he stood rooted to the spot, a touch of premonition and the memory of haunting words rung in his mind, echoing into the darkness and emptiness that he feared with all his soul, the secret part of him that fed upon his obsession to madness, the part of him that was every bit as sick as Thrór had been.  It welled before him like a great chasm, an abyss hungry and ready to devour him whole, take away everything that made up who he was and leave a greedy, diseased shell behind.

How naught but that voice could bring him to this...

Yes, the shores were meant to remain unexperienced for a reason.  He did not think he could ever calm the vibrations that voice had left through his very being, nor could he wash away the feeling of dread that welled in his chest.

Touching something from beyond the edges of the world was an experience that left one raw and exposed. It was painful and dangerous.  It changed you.

It haunted your dreams.  And your nightmares.
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Allusions to future events.  Don't you just love them?

Don't even know where this came from.  It just had to be Thorin's POV though.  It wouldn't be half as fun if it was someone who knew about Maglor already.  In any case, I thought the parallels between The Hobbit and the story of the House of Fëanor are rather striking in some ways, though not exact mirrors event-wise.

The music for this is Water Night by Eric Whitacre, the virtual choir version in particular, though all versions are beautiful.  I think the words are important, but I've played the orchestral version before and it's also quite gorgeous. Awesome composer, just saying.

Anyway, since I actually have studying to get back to today (curse chemistry tests!), I shall be on my way.