A Cursed Line

A Thorin Oakenshield x Reader story

You had been waiting for a sign from the birds of the mountains to state that something had occurred. The ravens had already started to head back toward the lonely spire of Erebor, but you had seen none come back after collecting Dain and heading out with an army. There must have been a reason why you had woken up so early and headed straight to the ledges of the fortress in the Iron Mountains to stare out at lands beyond your mortal eyes. You were worried, your heart had been pounding ferociously and something had warned you that a greater battle then the death of Smaug had occurred. Your mind slipped back to thoughts of the last day you had been with the Dwarf you loved...

* * * * *

Ages passed though really not that long ago, you had been a resident of the Blue Mountains community of Dwarfs making a living for your own family by fixing dresses for the humans that traded with your community. It was not a bad job but you were not the kind of dwarf-wife that would spend her days sewing fabric when you could be linking mail! You were the daughter of one of the old Royal Guard after-all, though your father had perished in the mountain during the dragon attack and your blood had long been associated as a servant to the house of Durin - but what else could you do?

Not that long ago you had been the nanny for Kili and Fili, the great-grandsons of your last king and those two had been really troublesome. Even now when they had a grown up, they galloped past your working area with hollers of greeting whilst one of the other young dwarf maidens ran screaming after them for something or other. The two youngsters had none of the royal characteristics of their grandfather, but then again only one dwarf could match that noble being.

“Ah _____, I thought I’d find you working for everyone again.” You were startled at the familiar voice from behind you. Working from your set-up tent you often were left alone by the adult dwarves, it was usually the youngsters and the twin idiots that came to visit you. But one other dwarf did, Thorin Oakenshield - the rightful king under the mountain.

“My Lord Thorin.” You stood up swiftly and bowed to him, managing to put your thumb over the sharp end of the needle. You gave a little ouch sound and looked at your hand with a scowl. Thorin laughed gently as you cursed the damn sewing work and placed it aside. But tenderly he stretched out his hands and held your injured thumb, checking it carefully, almost as if it fascinated him. “It was a needle, not some venomous monster.”

“An common war-wound I suppose.” Thorin chuckled and you gave a snort of annoyance, or rather amusement as you took your hand from him and turned to the pile of clothing you still had to work on. He had known you since you had both been children in the mountain and he had always made fun of the fact that you were tougher then your now dead brothers. It was generally his customary greeting to you and the only way he could talk to you when Kili and Fili were around trying to make fun of something. But you could tell that there was something very awkward in his mannerism and you looked at him almost sadly.

“I heard Balin mention something about signs when I last visited him and your two nitwit-nephews have been acting hyper again. Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to disappear for battle again...” You looked at him with a vicious glare as he turned around and tried to avoid you. The last time he’d done something like that it had been when he’d told you that your two brothers were to join his grandfather in their attempt to get Moria back. Of all of the beings you had worried about back then, only Thorin had returned and from what Balin had stated, he’d only JUST made it back. “Oh please don’t bother with Moria. It’s lost to us and even if you go rid of the orcs what of the other things that may be living there. It is a dark place only Thorin!”

“It is not for Moria.” Thorin sighed sadly, turning around and then placing his hands upon your shoulders. Your eyes locked on one another and you could almost have swooned then and there. Thorin’s eyes suddenly gained a fierce light that made your blood run cold. You almost screamed when he dared to mention the place you believed all the trouble had begun. “It is for Erebor... the signs are clear and I must go to our allies and see who will join me to remove that damned dragon.”

“Thorin, that place is nothing more then a tomb of your grandfather’s foolishness.” You sighed in annoyance. Thorin looked almost angry until you lifted your hands to pat at his chest. “I mean no offence, but there is nothing there that we need. All of us are happy here and content. The world’s changed too much for us now; we don’t want any more losses. If you go to the others to help then you know they will not join you. Thorin, you are the king here and now, you don’t need half a tonne of gold to prove that. You’ve never had to prove your royalty to me.”

You muttered, daring to stretch your hand to the bare part of his cheek and stroking it. He took in a deep breath, let out a low sigh and then took your hand again. He looked at you with great fondness but then it seemed to turn into more of this fierce fire.

“I promised you that we would marry when our people were safe. If I were to regain Erebor then we would be safe forever and you would have a kingdom worthy of a dwarf queen like you. There would be no need for you to spend hours picking at stitches like some old human woman....” He growled but you could tell, even as he put your hand against his chest to feel his beating heart within, that this was something different. It was not that he was making a promise to marry you again so much as oath to take back the mountain and you wanted to hate him for it. But instead you lowered your head and nodded gently. Even so, Thorin smiled and kissed your cheek, making your skin flush pink before stating bravely. “You’ll come with me to the council and I’ll leave you in the care of Dain. If anything happens then he will make sure you will always be safe.”

“I understand...”

* * * * *

Now your eyes widened in surprise as a large raven, blacker then pitch and really quite young appeared nearby. He gave a gentle crowing sound and you looked at him in surprise, you had not spotted him in the air but you could tell he’d come from the Erebor stock. Looking at him carefully you noted a strange sadness in its expression and you dared to ask it what was wrong. The raven seemed to lower itself and it spoke gravely.

“The lord Thorin Oakenshield has perished, but the Lonely Mountain is reclaimed for the Dwarf Kingdoms. Alongside Thorin his nephews Kili and Fili have perished but their enemy was soundly defeated. Thorin shares his tomb with the Arkanstone, his heart as well as the heart of the mountain. All is at peace. Dain has taken his cousin’s throne and has requested your presence in Erebor.”

“Thank you raven, but I will not be going to Erebor willingly....”