Complicated (Thorin Oakenshield x Reader) [Slow Updates]

Chapter Eight

(Y/N) once again is walking at the middle of the group. They'd decided to follow the tunnel, and so far there hadn't been any consequences of this, so she assumed it's a safe route.

After but a moment more of following the tunnel, she sees sunlight coming from up ahead. The tunnel gives away to a fairly worn path along a cliffside, and from this cliff can be seen a town which is seated in a valley. The elegant structures are surrounded by cascading waterfalls.

Rivendell, she thinks in awe, having heard many a story of this grand place. Some of the others in the company have the same expression of awe displayed on their face, while the other larger percentage of the group look a little less occupied admiring their new location, instead seeming to focus only on their own displeasure in being here.

Gandalf comes out of the tunnel last, and doesn't seem to be either admiring the place or hating on it, but more so showing signs of fondness for the place, though much less potent, more alike to familiarity.

"The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue, it's known by another name," the wizard says.

"Rivendell," (Y/N) says.

"Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea."

Thorin walks up to Gandalf, looking, to say the least, displeased.

"This was your plan all along. To seek refuge with our enemy," he says, glaring at the wizard.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself," Gandalf says. (Y/N) does her best to stifle her snicker, but it doesn't go unnoticed, as Thorin sends a glare her way before returning his focus to the wizard.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me," Gandalf says before briskly making off in the direction of Rivendell, the rest of the company quickly following suit.

As they make their way down a path jutting high out of the ground leading to the fair town, (Y/N) takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of mist in the air. This is the kind of place that I wouldn't mind staying in for the rest of my life, she thinks, relishing the light roar of water tapping on stone that rings through her ears, and remembering the way that the stream in her village used to make a sound much like that, but softer.

A pained expression makes it's way on to her face, and she looks down at her feet, trying to block out the memories of her old home that are attempting to seep into the edges of her mind.

I've kept these memories at bay for longer than I've cared to keep track of. There's no way I'm letting them back in now, she thinks firmly, looking back up at the trail ahead, only to realize that they are walking across the elegant bridge into Rivendell. Her boots tap on the stone, and she frowns in discomfort. I really wish I could wear my other ones, but they don't exactly fit the "impression" I've given the company, she thinks. Not to mention I had to leave them back at the farmhouse.

As they walk off of the bridge and onto a large circular platform, she notices that there are two statues of elves in their battle armor holding spears on either side of the bridge, and can't help but admire the detail. Whomever made those statues certainly must've had quite a lot of time on their hands, she thinks. Back in her village she used to make small carvings out of wood. They never turned out as well as those statues, but they still turned out pretty decently.