Middle Earth || OS

66. Thorin | She Moves Through The Fair

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Anonymous said: Can you please write an incredibly fluffy Thorin fic for me? I'm feeling self concious of my weight and I could really use it.

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Dis is pulling you by your sleeve through the splendid halls of Erebor.

"The Durin's Day fair is that way," you say, pointing toward the grand gates and trying not to trip over your long dress.

"I'm going to see if my brother wants to join us," she says.

"Frerin is already out there..."

"No, I mean my OTHER brother!"

You feel your heart make little mini-jabs against your chest. She means Thorin, of course.

Dis rounds a corner, still practically dragging you, and bursts into a meeting chamber where Thorin is dressed regally in dark blue. He sits at an elaborate desk, writing furiously on a large parchment.

"Yes, by all means, come in, sister," he says, not even looking up.

"Stop working and come to the Durin's Day fair with us," she says.

"Grandfather needs me to work on these charters. You and Frerin enjoy yourselves."

"Not just Frerin..." She clears her throat, and Thorin looks up.

His face immediately softens when he sees you and almost as quickly it changes back to his serious face. He nods curtly. You nod back, and despite your best efforts to stay all-business, you smile. No matter his mood or yours, he makes you smile.

"Thorin, you can't work all the time," Dis says.

"I don't."

"Prove it, then!"

You can tell they are about to get into it. Soon the rude Khuzdul words will start flying. You pull on your friend's elbow.

"Let's leave him be, Dis," you say. "He's very busy."

"He's also very stubborn!" she says.

You pull her a little more, and catch Thorin peering at you from the corner of your eye. You turn to him and curtsy quickly.

"Sorry to bother you," you say.

Dis groans and reluctantly leads the way out of the room. You wish you were in front. You pray Thorin isn't watching you walk away. You pray your hips aren't bouncing too much.

****

Thorin loves to watch you leave a room. You walk so light and gracefully, as if you're stepping on clouds.

Several minutes after you leave with Dis, curiosity about the fair gets the best of him, and he takes a stroll outside the gates and trudges up a winding ramp for a better view of the festivities. He soon spots you in your long, red dress, moving through the fair with his siblings, having the time of your life.

He feels a strong, irresistible pull and fights it, remembering that his grandfather needs those documents finished, remembering that he is heir to the throne and has certain responsibilities, remembering you walk away...

****

You and Dis meet Frerin near the archery competition, and for the next hour the three of you bounce from place to colorful place, sampling food, participating in games, listening to storytellers, admiring the creative wares of the many artisans there.

You keep telling yourself that Thorin would not have enjoyed this, that he'd much prefer to stay indoors work on his documents, but deep down you think he would have liked a break.

Then a thought occurs to you: maybe he would have come if you weren't there. Maybe he thinks of you as a nuisance. Maybe he wants to enjoy the celebration in honor of Durin with – shocker!– others in the line of Durin.

You begin to feel like such an intruder.

Your feelings go from bad to worse as you and Frerin follow Dis into a clothing merchant's tent. Shopping for clothes is awful. Nothing seems to fit the way it should, and even when something feels OK, it looks frumpy.

"How about a new dress?" Dis asks, holding up a pink outfit that you don't have to try on to know it would be too tight – and dowdy.

You shake your head and your hands start fiddling with some scarves in a bin in front of you.

"Can't you see she wants a scarf?" Frerin says, lifting up a long, wide, colorful one from the bin and draping it over his head, then holding it tight under his chin like a peasant.

"How do I look?" he says in a terrible falsetto voice.

Dis tries to grab it from him but Frerin tosses it into the air. You take a quick look at the merchant, who seems mildly amused and even accustomed to these shenanigans.

The three of you watch the delicate scarf kiss the top of the tent and slowly float down, waving like a banner in the wind.

It glides down, feather-like, between you and the playful siblings, and as it unfurls, you clearly see the image painted on it: a lovely sun over the Lonely Mountain.

You reach your hands out to catch it as it flutters further down, hiding Frerin's and Dis' faces and most of their bodies. You hear a few quick whispers, one of them lower in tone than the others, as the fabric falls into your palms, and when you look up, Frerin and Dis aren't there.

Thorin is.

"I think it will look much better on you," he says, gently taking the scarf from your grasp. He lifts your hair and drapes the fabric from one shoulder to the other, then releases your locks and steps back to look. Beautiful, just as he expected.

"Or would you prefer it around your waist?" he asks, trying to slide it off your shoulders.

You press the scarf in place with your hand. "No, no! This is fine, thank you."

You don't even want him to think about your hips.

Thorin looks at you quizzically as he thinks about your gorgeous hips. You would make the scarf look stunning around your waist, but he decides not to push it. You both just stand there, gazing at each other for several moments.

"Where did Frerin and Dis go?" you ask quietly, finally breaking the hypnotic stare.

"I told them to scram," he says. "Why should they have you all to themselves?"

You blush, and smile. He walks over to the merchant, pays for the scarf, and asks to have it wrapped and ready for pick-up a little later.

Then he returns to you and bends his arm, indicating for you to put your arm through, and you happily do so.

You exit the tent with the prince and into the crisp, sweet autumn air, feeling beautiful, as the sun shines brightly over the Lonely Mountain.