The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines Book II

Not worthy - Thorin x Reader

Thorin could not hear the chaos going on around him. He hadn't heard it since he had been bought there to join her. He could not hear the voices of the healers or the groans and cries of men, elves and dwarves alike, either, as he sat next to the bed of the female that he owed his life to; that Fili and Kili owed their lives to. For without her, Thorin knew that Azog would have had his way, and the line of Durin would be no more.

When she had appeared at the front door of Bilbo's home all that time ago, she had been the last thing that he, or any other dwarf at Bag End had wanted to see; Gandalf, and maybe Bilbo, the only ones that had been happy to see the visitor that had revealed herself to be an elf. A dark cloud taking over the Hobbit hole, as it became obvious that Gandalf had not been happy about the Company reaching for their weapons, as she had made her way through the door. Not happy with the insulting words that had come from the lips of the dwarves. The wizard letting it be known, in no uncertain terms, that if she did not accompany them, then nor would he or Bilbo, and the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain from the dragon, would have no chance of succeeding. Thorin having no other choice but to agree; but also telling Gandalf that neither he, nor any of the others would accept one of their enemies being in the Company. Thorin going out of his way to do everything that he could to force the elleth out. To make her want to leave of her own accord. Yet she had proved to be as stubborn as any dwarf that he had ever met. And despite himself, and as much as he had fought the thoughts, he had eventually been glad of it; for not only had she helped Bilbo distract the trolls until the sun had risen enough so that Gandalf could crack the large boulder and let through the light that had turned to odious creatures, to stone. She had also shown true loyalty as they had run from the pack of wargs and their riders that had come for them, after they had discovered the troll hoard. Her abilities with bow and arrow, with her sword, saving not only Ori, but also Kili and Dwalin too, before they found the path they would lead them to Rivendell. Thorin not able to pretend that he liked that Gandalf had led them into the realm of the elves; yet when he had seen her come down for dinner, after she had been able to bathe and dress, a little part of him that had never been happier that he had found himself in such a place. That he could see her in such a way.

Yet it had been with the reclaiming of the Mountain, that Thorin had found that he could no longer say that she was not one of them; not one of the Company. That she had not earned her place amongst them, and in his heart. But with the acceptance of his feelings for her, for the love that had slowly grown during their time together, had come the sickness. The sickness that had turned him into someone he wasn't, that had turned him against the others, against his own kin. Against the hobbit and the elf that had helped him get there and take back what was rightfully his. That had made him break the promise that he had given to the people of Lake-town and brought with it war.

Yet despite everything that he had done and said, despite all the things that he had called her, all the ways that he had insulted her while under the control of the gold, she had fought with the dwarves. She had found him when he had finally come to his senses and taken a standby his side. And it was because she had joined him, Fili, Kili and Dwalin on Ravenhill, with a small contingent of Thranduil's men, that Fili had been saved from being impaled and thrown from the tower by Azog. It was because of her, that Kili had not been killed by Bolg, and the defiler had not cut him down. But her intervention had meant that the pale orc had plunged his blade into her instead. Thorin raising Orcrist, using the elven blade to finally remove Azog's head from his body. The King only able to watch on, as the son of the King of Mirkwood had taken her up into his arms and as quickly as he could, he had taken her to the elven healers, as she clung desperately to the last breaths of life. And that was why the King under the Mountain was where he was now. Ignoring the pleadings of the healers, or even Óin and his nephews for him to rest.

"I am not worthy of you, (Y/n)........." Thorin began, as he moved a little closer to her. His grip on her cold hand, getting a little tighter.

"I am not worthy of all the things that you have done for me. You stood by us, by me, even though I treated you as if you were nothing more than my enemy; a spy that had been sent to stop us. You loved me even when the madness turned me into something I am not, someone I am not. Loved me when I treated you so badly, when I called you all of those awful things. And then........then you saved my nephews.......saved me. I care nothing for the gold in the Mountain, for the jewels or even the Arkenstone; for I know now that the only treasure that is worth anything, worth living for, worth fighting for, is you. So, you must come back to me, my love. For without you, life will be nothing." Thorin whispered. His eyes suddenly becoming heavy; the king reluctantly letting them close, for the first time since he had taken up his place by (Y/n)'s side.

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It was dark and quiet when the figure made its way into the tent. The elven healers not seeming to notice, as it made its way to where the elleth lay. The visitor taking a seat next to her on the bed and reaching out for the hand that was not being held by the dwarf king.

"Your time has not yet come, my child. The Undying Lands will wait, you have much here left to do, and a dwarf that loves you. So, return to him; be the queen that he needs..............that the Mountain needs..........." A soft light suddenly filling, surrounding (Y/n)'s body, before the figure disappeared as quickly and quietly as it had appeared.

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"Thorin......." His name came out quietly. The voice barely above a whisper; but he heard it. Thorin's head flying up to see (Y/n) looking at him; a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. The king forgetting himself, their injuries, as he pulled her into his arms. Thorin not caring who or what had brought her back to him. Not caring what god, had looked down upon them, and smiled. All he cared about, was that his elleth was alive, and that whatever life he had left, he would spend every day of it, with her. And the Mountain and his people, would become her home and her people too.