Middle Earth || OS

29. Thorin | Remember II

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Part 2 (final) of "Little Creature": "Imagine if Gandalf found a baby elf and brought them to the Company, only for the baby to take an instant liking to Thorin and cling to him"

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 Words: 1099 || Genre: Fluff || Khuzdul reference [, ] Characters: Thorin, Rinien, Thror 2 || Author's note: everybody lives

A Guest

"Father, the contingent from Rivendell has arrived."

Thorin scribbled down a few last thoughts for his speech on parchment, then looked up from his desk at his eldest son and asked him to send Lord Elrond up to the small meeting room.

"Lord Elrond is not with them," Thror II said.

Of all the invited Elves, Thorin thought Thranduil would be the one not to show up at the celebration commemorating the reclamation of Erebor and the hard-won Battle of Five Armies - the first event of its kind on such a grand scale, held at the urging of Thorin's many children.

But the Woodland King was the first to arrive, taking up an entire guest suite just for his wardrobe.

"Who did Elrond send, then?" Thorin asked.

"One named Lindir, and the other declined to introduce herself." Thror sighed longingly at the last part.

"Declined!" Thorin stood angrily, prepared to go toe-to-toe with whoever this rude visiting Elf was. "Does she not know she is a guest? Where is this Elf, that she should wander about my kingdom after showing such disrespect to my son!"

"Father, please calm down. She was polite. She said you were friends, and she is in the arboretum."

Friends? He had no such Elf friend. Tauriel was family, not a chum.

Thorin followed Thror out of the study. They walked side-by-side, talking about the preparations for the party during the four-minute walk to the arboretum.

Thror eagerly began to walk through the archway first until Thorin extended his arm in front of him.

"Where are you going, son?"

"To say hello to her again," he said.

Thorin saw a gleam in his son's eye when he said 'her.'

"Thror," he said impatiently, "the ceremony to pair you with a proper Dwarrowdam is in two weeks. Besides, the person in here is an Elf, and probably much, much older than you."

"That didn't stop Cousin Kili."

"Leave."

The prince nodded in reverence and slowly exited, first stretching his neck to take a last glimpse of the figure dressed in white sitting on a bench in the middle of the indoor garden, a small bunch of amaryllis by her side.

A Friend

Thorin walked in and stood before her. Her hands held up a thin white scarf draped over her head, giving him only a hint of her face.

He decided to try what little Sindarin he knew, choosing diplomacy over confrontation - for the time being.

"Mae g'ov- an-nen," he stumbled gruffly. Since she had the audacity to tell Thror that they were friends, he added, quite sarcastically, "mellonig" - 'my friend.'

"Vemu, Thane Thorin." The voice speaking the greeting in perfect Khuzdul was light and jovial, but Thorin took offense.

"How does an outsider know our language?"