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THORIN OAKENSHIELD

In the heart of Erebor, the grand halls echoed with the sounds of clinking armor and the rhythmic footsteps of dwarves going about their duties. Thorin Oakenshield, his regal presence undeniable, strode purposefully through the corridors. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, always vigilant. Yet, today, his focus was on one figure—the personal servant, Y/N.

Thorin's protective instincts had intensified over time, a mysterious force driving him to keep Y/N close. Today, however, a crucial council meeting beckoned, demanding his attention as the leader. The clash between his duty to the kingdom and his obsessive protectiveness created an internal storm that Thorin couldn't ignore.

As Y/N diligently went about their tasks, arranging scrolls and ensuring Thorin's armor was impeccable, the dwarf leader's gaze lingered on them longer than usual. His expression was a mix of concern and possessiveness, a silent plea for Y/N to stay close.

"Y/N," Thorin's deep voice resonated in the chamber, causing the servant to look up from their duties. "Attend the council meeting with me."

Y/N hesitated, glancing at the pile of scrolls in their hands. "My lord, I have tasks to complete here. Should I not stay and—"

Thorin's eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he interrupted, "Your duties can wait. This concerns the well-being of Erebor."

The tension between Thorin's duty as a leader and his obsessive protectiveness hung thick in the air. Y/N, sensing the inner conflict, set the scrolls aside and followed Thorin to the council chamber.

As they entered, the dwarven council members bowed in respect, their eyes curiously glancing at the unexpected presence of Y/N. Thorin, however, paid no heed to the whispers circulating among the councilors.

The council commenced, discussions revolving around trade agreements, defense strategies, and the well-being of the kingdom. Thorin's attention, however, wavered between the matters at hand and the unease of Y/N's absence from his side.

Eventually, Y/N's name was mentioned in a proposal regarding resource allocation. Thorin's eyes narrowed, his protective instincts flaring up. "Y/N stays within Erebor, close to my side. Their safety is non-negotiable."

The council members exchanged glances, the atmosphere growing tense. One dwarf dared to speak up, "My lord, we must consider the needs of the kingdom. Y/N's skills could be valuable elsewhere."

Thorin's gaze turned steely, his voice commanding, "I will not compromise the safety of those under my protection for the sake of resources. Erebor comes first, always."

The clash of priorities reached its peak, the council divided on the issue. Thorin's insistence on prioritizing Y/N's safety above all else led to an unexpected consequence—a strained relationship with his council, who questioned his judgment.

As the council meeting adjourned, Thorin stormed out, his steps echoing through the stone corridors. Y/N followed, a palpable tension between them.

"My lord," Y/N began cautiously, "I appreciate your concern, but I cannot be sheltered at the expense of Erebor's needs. I am capable of fulfilling my duties beyond your immediate protection."

Thorin stopped abruptly, turning to face Y/N. The conflict within him was evident in his eyes. "Y/N, I... I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to you."

Y/N's expression softened, "I understand, Thorin, but I need to contribute to Erebor's prosperity. We must find a balance."

Thorin sighed, a mixture of frustration and resignation in his voice. "Balance," he repeated, as if grappling with the concept. "I will try, but know that my concern for you will not waver."

The echoes of their conversation lingered in the empty corridors of Erebor, a poignant reminder of the delicate equilibrium between duty and personal attachment that Thorin Oakenshield struggled to maintain.

In the weeks that followed, Y/N embraced their responsibilities with a determination that echoed through the cavernous halls of Erebor. They ventured beyond the kingdom's borders, negotiating trade agreements, securing alliances, and ensuring the prosperity of their people. Despite the initial tension, Thorin begrudgingly allowed Y/N to fulfill their duties, though his gaze lingered on them each time they departed.

As days turned into weeks, the council's skepticism waned as Y/N's efforts yielded positive results. Erebor flourished under their strategic guidance, and whispers of Y/N's competence replaced the murmurs of doubt.

However, the price of success came at a cost. On a fateful evening, Y/N returned to Erebor, battered and bloodied. The news of their condition spread like wildfire, reaching Thorin's ears as he stood in the heart of the kingdom.

Thorin rushed to the entrance, anxiety etched on his face. The sight that greeted him was enough to make his heart skip a beat. Y/N, once composed and confident, now leaned heavily against the doorway, clothing torn, and face smeared with blood and dirt.

A gasp escaped Thorin's lips, and he closed the distance between them in mere moments. "Y/N! By Durin's beard, what happened?"

Y/N managed a weak smile, though pain flickered in their eyes. "A skirmish on the outskirts, my lord. We were ambushed, but Erebor's interests are secure."

Thorin's protective instincts surged, and he guided Y/N to a nearby bench. "We need a healer!" he bellowed, his eyes searching for assistance.

As the healers rushed to tend to Y/N's wounds, Thorin remained by their side, a storm of emotions brewing within him. Guilt clawed at his conscience, knowing that his insistence on Y/N taking on such perilous tasks had led to this moment.

Once the healers had tended to the worst of the injuries, Y/N looked up at Thorin. "I did what was necessary for Erebor, my lord. Our people are safe."

Thorin's eyes softened with a mix of relief and regret. "I never should have let you go. I cannot bear to see you harmed."

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on Thorin's armored forearm. "Thorin, Erebor needed me. I am willing to bear this burden for our kingdom."

Thorin's stern expression softened, a rare vulnerability surfacing. "And I, for you," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.

In the aftermath of that harrowing night, as Y/N recovered from their injuries, Thorin found himself torn between the duty to his kingdom and the undeniable bond he felt for his personal servant. The clash of conflicting emotions persisted, a reminder that the delicate balance between leadership and personal attachment remained elusive in the heart of the formidable dwarf king.