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Soul of the Lonely Mountain - Part 2 - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

She gasped. The cool air of the great expanse of the throne room filing her lungs. She had no idea where she was. The last thing that she could remember was arguing with her father. The dagger of the sun piercing her side before she fell to the floor. Her father calling for her mother as he cradled her in his arms. She could have sworn that she had passed over to the next world, yet here she was. Though where she was, she didn't know.

The vast chasm was dark apart from a few bright torches that littered the great expanse. She could never remember having seen anything like it before, but wherever it was, all she hoped was that her husband was nearby. The husband that she feared that she would never see again.

Slowly she rose. Her long white gown draping itself over the cold stone bed on which she had been laying, like a fresh fall of snow. Her naked feet tentatively touching the hard floor as she shakily stood.

"Thrar." She called out. Her hesitant voice echoing around the void. The rock beneath her feet suddenly shaking violently, as if reacting to her voice.

"Thrar. Where are you?" She called out again. Her cry accompanied by another, more violent tremor nearly throwing the elleth to the floor.

Quickly, she began to run. The cavernous halls seeming to stretch on forever as the ground around her continued to shake. Her every word seeming to make that tremors more violent.

"Thrar. Please. Where are you? I need you. My father.........." The elleth cried as she fell to her knees. Great boulders falling from the lofty roof as the ethereal creature began to weep.

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The mountain around Thorin shook. The king under the mountain nearly falling from his bed as the foundations of his kingdom seemed to want to shake themselves to destruction.

After finally getting back Erebor from Smaug. After the battle of the five armies, and barely surviving his fight with Azog, Thorin had hoped for some peace. Had hoped that his people could return to the Lonely Mountain and feel safe. But as the mountain shook once again, Thorin couldn't help but think that he and his line were cursed.

Quickly he jumped from his bed. Grabbing for his sword as he raced out into the great halls. Many of the other's doing the same, as they feared that maybe, somehow, the great dragon had survived Bard's arrow, and had come back to claim the mountain.

"What's going on?" Thorin called out. As Dwalin and his nephews moved to his side. The sound of a soft cry seeming to be the cause of the mountain's movements.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, if its tryin ta get in, its gonna regret it." Dwalin declared as he gripped tightly to the handle of his axe. The Durin folk ready to face whatever else was coming to face them.

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Balin stared in disbelief at the exquisite elleth that sat sobbing on the stone floor. He had no idea where she had come from, or even how she had made it into the mountain. But as the mountain trembled at the sound of her cries, the old dwarf knew he had to do something. Like everyone else, the oldest son of Fundin had been shaken from his bed. But unlike others, Balin somehow sensed that there was no threat. And whatever it was needed help more than anything else.

"My lady." Balin said quietly, as he cautiously came up behind the crying elf. His old heart beating violently in his chest as she turned to look up at him. The true extent of her beauty finally revealed.