Blacksmith - Part 3 - Thorin x Reader

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(Y/n) let out a dreamy sigh, as she made her way back into the tavern; slumping against the bar as her thoughts continued to focus on the handsome blacksmith. Her fingers reaching up and taking some of her hair between her fingers, wondering what it would feel like if it had a courting bead in it. More precisely, Thorin's courting bead.

"Ya back then.................? Did Thorin take the coins............?" Reya enquired, as she made her way over to her daughter. The older woman shaking her head as it became obvious that her child hadn't heard a single word that she had said.

Her mother knew that she would come back like this. Any time that (Y/n) even heard the mention of Oakenshield's name, she would drift off into her own little world and be of no use whatsoever for a while. But in truth, Reya could never be mad. Thorin was a good dwarf; he along with the others had done nothing but help since her husband had passed away. And she knew that Grison had always wanted his daughter to marry a dwarf. So, why not have that dwarf be Thorin? A blacksmith was a fine occupation, and he was certainly handsome; that, and Reya had seen how he would look at her daughter when he thought no one was watching. How a smile would grace his normally stern looking features whenever (Y/n) would hand him his jug of ale. How he would appear a little jealous, if another dwarf, even his own nephews got too close. So perhaps, if the pair really did feel something for one another, then what kind of mother would she be if she denied her daughter the same kind of love that she had had with Grison. But that didn't mean that Reya wasn't going to have a little fun at her distracted daughter's expense.

"Oh, look a flying pig................!" Reya exclaimed. Doing her best to not laugh as (Y/n) merely hummed in reply.

"The tavern is on fire..............."

"Oh, alright...................."

"I'm with child................."

"Yes, that's nice..............."

"I can see Thorin kissing a..............."

"What..........? What did you say............?" (Y/n) enquired, as the mere mention of the blacksmith's name brought her back to the moment. Her brows furrowing as her mother began to laugh.

"I said, the glasses need to be collected and the tables cleaned down. Master Balin said that he and some of the other elders would be coming in later, and I want to make sure that everything looks just so." Reya explained. (Y/n) nodding in agreement and quickly scurrying off to do as she had been asked.

                                                             >>------------------------------<<

Thorin pushed his way into the small home that was adjacent to his shop. Dwalin taking a seat and watching as his friend made his way over to a wooden trunk and pushed up the lid; his rough calloused hands pushing the clothes within it from side to side, in hopes of finding something that was better than what he would normally wear. His mind going back to days when he had worn fine robes and thick furs. When golden thread had decorated the edges of his sleeves and not dirt. But that all seemed so long ago now. As if that Thorin had been someone else. That the Thorin he had been when Smaug had taken the Mountain, when he had fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar, was some kind of dream. But he had no time to think about that now. All he wanted to do was impress (Y/n) and be as neat as he could. To look at his finest as he pulled her to one side and did his best to find the words to tell her that he had come to care so much for her, and that he would like to court her. That he would very much like to place his beads in her hair and...................beads!...............how could he ask (Y/n) if he could court her without a bead? It was what would be expected. He would take (Y/n) to one side, ask her to be his, and if she agreed, he would braid a few strands of her hair and then place his bead at the end. It showing all others, that she was taken. But how could he do that now, Thorin feeling slightly defeated, as he took a seat on his bed.

Dwalin shook his head, as he watched the son of Thráin. Finding it funny that Thorin could fight the great white orc with only a sword and an oaken tree branch to protect him; but when it came to a pretty dwarrowdam he was certainly unarmed.

"What's wrong with ya..................." Dwalin enquired, as Thorin just sat there.

"Are we goin ta tha tavern or not? I'm thirsty." The warrior continued, imagining a large tankard of Mistress Reya's best ale and a plate full of good meat and bread.

"You go..............." Thorin finally replied with a huff, as he got up from his bed.

"But you were the one that..................."

"I've changed my mind. I have other things to do............." Thorin quickly replied with another huff, slamming down the lid of the chest before storming out of the room. Dwalin shaking his head, as he got to his feet. The large dwarf knowing that if he couldn't get the King to go to his mountain, then he would just have to get the mountain to come to him. Dwalin leaving the little home and making his way through the town. Making his way to the tavern to find not only his brother, but also (Y/n). 

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