LOTR/Hobbit Imagines

Thorin - Happy

A little drabble because Thorin deserves to be happy

*

Thorin felt warm. And pleasantly so.

Not because he was sitting by a cozy campfire, close enough to have his braids scorched if he wasn't careful, which he always was. Also not because he was dressed in one of his thickest furs with his hands wrapped in knitted mittens in order to brace the cold winter temperatures. And not even because he has you tucked in his side, curled up against him because you were getting drowsy and refused to go back inside to turn in for the night.

Thorin felt warm because for the first time since long, he was happy.

He smiled to himself when he watched the people surrounding the fire. They were all laughing and merrily chatting with each other, each of them content in their own little world. Both of his nephews, his sister-sons, were happily married to someone of their own choice whom they adored, and Fíli had his first pebble on the way. There was never any question if they would have an arranged marriage, not even for political reasons. Thorin knew better than that, and even if the thought would've crossed his mind at the time, he was sure that Dís would have knocked it right out of him.

Speaking of, Dís, his beloved sister, was currently sitting a little too close to Dwalin for his liking. She had made the journey shortly after they reclaimed Erebor and he was more than pleased to have his sister back by his side. At Dwalin's side, not so much. He'd have a word with his trusted friend soon enough. As her older brother it was his duty to threaten any possible suitors, even if they were his best friend. By Mahal's beard, especially when they were his best friend. But for now, Thorin would let them be. His sister deserved to be happy again.

The other members of the Company, who stood by him when he needed them most, all found their place in the mountain. Gloín and Bombur reunited with their families, some started new ones, others took up their crafts again. They were singing the most crude of Yule songs at that moment, led by Bofur of course, and Thorin would be offended if he wasn't the one who had taught the hatted Dwarf the song in the first place.

For all the blessings Mahal had placed upon them, Thorin felt the most blessed of all. His eyes welled with happy tears, overwhelmed by the realization that he truly was the luckiest Dwarf. They all survived, Erebor was restored and thriving, everyone was happy... he was happy.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when you sturred and slowly sat up again, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Thorin?" you asked when you noticed the subtle glistening in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all, ghivashel," he reassured you, cupping your cheek before he pulled you closer and kissed your hair, "nothing at all..."