"Thorin, son of Thráin, grandson of Thrór, heir to the Kingdom under the Mountain. Unfortunately, there is no Kingdom under the Mountain anymore."
Thranduil sat upon his throne, studying Thorin indifferently. "Defeating a dragon and reclaiming your homeland—it sounds just like a fairy tale. But I don't think you're as noble as you claim."
"Dwarves are all a bunch of insatiably greedy people, and the dozen or so of you can only engage in petty thievery!" Thranduil descended from the throne and stared at him. He continued, "So you found a way into the Lonely Mountain. You're searching for something that can grant you kingship—the Imperial treasure, the Arkenstone!"
"That thing is priceless in your eyes. I can understand that. It's the symbol of the Dwarves' royal authority. I've coveted the treasures in the mountain for a long time as well. A white gem, brilliant as starlight..."
Thorin raised his head and looked sharply at Thranduil. An Yang stood beside him as well, gazing at Thranduil's nearly flawless features and his noble, imposing imperial bearing. He couldn't help feeling jealous. If I were this handsome, I wouldn't have to scrape by after graduation. I could live comfortably just by relying on my face...
He could guess what Thranduil was about to say, and he didn't want to listen to his rambling, so he said, "Sigh, King of the Woodland Elves, give it up. With Thorin's temper, he won't make a deal with you. As for that, even I can't persuade him."
"Is that so?" Thranduil looked at Thorin.
Thorin glanced at An Yang in confusion, but quickly guessed what they were talking about. He gave two cold laughs. "Whatever the deal is, I have no interest in hearing about it. I only know that I, heir to Durin's bloodline, will