The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Goblin Town

The sound of the dwarves' snoring filled the air of the cave, rumbling around the stone. Clarrei lay on her side, farther away from the Company than she would have originally liked, but after what happened, she thought it was best. She had struck their leader for Yavanna's sake! She was surprised Thorin didn't banish her there and then. It was strange, she thought, but she had felt an almost animalistic rage fill her when he began to make comments about her flying. How was he to know she couldn't fly? But it had still struck a nerve with her. The taunting had all come back to her, the times she had been called useless, weak, a disgrace because she couldn't shift. And...she had lost her temper. But something was off about how she had struck Thorin. There had been and odd, feral moment within her, and a strange swiping noise had sounded afterward, as though someone was tearing paper. She growled, turning and burying her face in her arms.
"What's happening to me?" She whispered.

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"She's shifting." Thorin muttered to himself as he inspected the scratches on his face in a puddle in the corner of the cave. He supposed he had guessed it after her eyes kept changing to a dragon's eyes, but he had tried to ignore it. Thorin didn't want to accept that Clarrei was becoming fully dragon. The scratches on his face would heal, but they would leave a slight scar, a permanent reminder of his idiocy. He had known that Clarrei couldn't fly, yet he taunted her anyway. But he hadn't known it would have been that terrible for her. And what on Earth was this "Dragon Council"? He pictured a small stuffy room with enormous dragons seated at a table, and the thought made him chuckle. Hearing a little sob, Thorin turned and looked about the cavern. He spotted a shape in the nearby darkness, the moonlight turning long red hair silver. Sighing, Thorin went back to his bedroll. What was he supposed to do? He didn't know if he could control himself around Clarrei, knowing what she was, who she really was. Could he really love the daughter of a tyrant? He was so distracted by his troubled heart, he didn't hear Bofur arguing with Bilbo about him leaving until the floor began to crumble.

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Clarrei lashed at the goblins that surrounded them, allowing her nails to sharpen into claws. But still she was pushed along in the current of grotesque little creatures. They were bundled across a wooden rickety bridge, that creaked under the dwarves' heavy boots. Whipping around, Clarrei felt horror fill her when she saw the hobbit slip away from the rest of the Company. He couldn't abandon them! A horrendous singing filled the air, down into a deep cavern.
"You will be beaten and battered, necks will be wrung!
You will die down here and never be found! Down in the deep old Goblin Town!"
Charming, Clarrei thought to herself. But she could tell it would not bode well for her friends as they laid eyes on the disgusting Goblin King.

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"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" Demanded the Goblin King, squinting his rheumy eyes at the Company. Thorin found himself morbidly fascinated, however, by the great fleshy beard that swung from the Goblin's throat. Veins popped all over it, throbbing almost painfully. He shuddered as the King turned to look blearily in his direction.
"Spies? Thieves? Assasins?!"
"Dwarves, Your Malevolence." Replied a foot soldier.
"Dwarves?!"
Yes, we are dwarves, Thorin thought to himself, rolling his eyes at the Goblin's stupidity. Couldn't he see what they were?
"What are you doing here?" Demanded the King. "Come on! Speak up!"
No one moved or spoke, and Thorin get pride swell in his chest at the bravery of his kin. But that vanished when the King spoke again.
"Very well. If they won't talk. We'll make them squawk! Bring up the Mangler!" A cheer rose from the crowd. "Bring up the Bone-Breaker! Start with the youngest." He said, pointing one fat finger at Ori. As the goblins surged forward, before Thorin could say anything, a lithe figure with red hair moved to block them. Amber eyes blazing, hair glowing bright, teeth now grown sharp, and a hint of red-gold scales patterning her face. When she spoke, her voice was little more than an animalistic growl:
"If you want to get him, you'll have to go through me."
Clarrei.

A.N. Here we are! Even closer to a dragon! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I promise, there will be a kiss soon my friends...soooooonnnn... *drums fingers together*