{ underoakandbeech }
Groaning, Thorin thunked his forehead against the elf’s chest. He looked exhausted, like he’d just spent a thousand years in that council room.
“Save me from this wretched place.”
“He is your cousin. If you cannot deal with him, I do not believe anyone can.”
And he certainly wasn’t going to volunteer to assist Thorin, either. To say that Daín was difficult to deal with was an understatement.