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

Queen of the woods - Part 8 - Thorin x Reader

(Y/n) listened, as the man named Bard explained about the promises that Thorin had made to the people of Lake-town. How he had said that he wanted to see the riches returned to their lands. That if the dwarves succeeded in reclaiming their home, all would share in the wealth of the Mountain. That there would be enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth, ten times over. Yet now the Mountain was theirs, Thorin refused to uphold his end of the bargain.

She couldn't help but feel angered as she occasionally looked up to the platform from where Thorin and the other dwarves were watching what was going on. The darkened eyes of the dwarf king, still not moving from her. None of this was the Thorin that she had known; the dwarf prince that she cared about was honourable, true to his word. Not one to go back on anything that he had promised. Yet the creature that was glaring down at her, was not the Thorin that she knew; the Thorin that she had seen in the throne room. No, this was the sickness, the madness that had taken the great Thrór; the evil malady that had taken the sweet, elder dwarf and turned him into something that not even those that had known him the best, could recognise. But the queen knew that she still had to do something; she still had to try and get through to the real Thorin that she could sense was there, somewhere. She had to get him to honour his promise, though even if he did, it would never be enough to make up for the lives that had been lost in Lake-town.

Bard nodded his head respectfully, as he finished his story. The queen giving him one last smile, before one of her husband's men came to the side of the stag and helped her dismount.

"Meleth nîn........." (Y/n) turning to look at her husband.

"Step with care. If Oakenshield dare even touch a single hair..........." Thranduil stopping as his beloved queen lay her hand over his. The king not having to say anymore. The ellon letting out a sigh, as he looked down at his queen. The pair being married long enough for Thranduil to know what all the looks from his beautiful wife, meant. The king nodding, before his beloved turned back to look at the dwarves.

"So............" (Y/n) called out, as she made her way closer to the broken-down entrance to the Mountain.

"Will you speak to me, Thorin Oakenshield.............?" She continued; her eyes focused on those of the dwarf. Thorin seeming to muse for a moment, before Balin leant in and whispered something. The king letting out an audible huff, before gesturing for her to join him at the same small opening where he had previously spoken to Bard.

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"I am glad to see that you are alive and well; that you are all alive and well." (Y/n) began, as Thorin finally appeared on the other side of the hole. The king letting out an unamused snort.

"What is it you really want, (Y/n)............?"

"To speak to an old friend. To a dwarf that means more to me than he could know............."

"I care not for what an elf may think of me............."

"But the dwarf I knew; the dwarf that I saw in the throne room, would. He never cared about the fact that I was an elf. He didn't care about that when he took me by the hand and lead me to a dance, that Durin's day. The fact that I was of Greenwood, meant nothing to him, as we sat side by side and spoke of our hopes and fears for the future, until the sun rose. And it is that dwarf that I wish to speak with now. The one that fought me the next day, even though we had not slept, because Dwalin was still too drunk to stand on his own two feet..........." (Y/n) told him with a small chuckle. Her heart beating a little quicker, as Thorin dropped his head for a moment before raising it again. The darkness in his eyes gone, to be replaced by his usual beautiful blue.

"(Y/n)..........."

"Oh, Thorin.......please.......please you must listen." The elven queen gripping onto the rubble of the Mountain, as she saw a glimpse of the real Thorin.

"The sickness of this Mountain, the madness that hangs over that gold, has taken over you. The Thorin I knew would not go back on his promise to the people of Lake-town. He would not deny them what it will take to rebuild their lives; to rebuild their homes. He would not want a war, when something as simple as living up to an oath, could prevent it. No one wants any more than you offered. No one wishes to steal from you, and you would see that if only you could break the spell." (Y/n) continued. Doing her best to smile, to keep this Thorin with her for as long as possible.

"And what do you want, (Y/n)................?"

"I want nothing more than for you to be well and happy. For you to be able to bring your people back to their home. I want to be able to come to Erebor the next Durin's Day and have the King of the Mountain ask me to dance........."

"And what of your husband..............?"

"Thranduil will be jealous that I am dancing with the most handsome of dwarves. A dwarf that managed to find a place in my heart and has refused to leave it. A place that he will hold for as long as I live. And if the world was a different place, I would happily have been his queen..........." Her confession making Thorin look up and move closer to the gap. A smile coming to his lips at her words. (Y/n) hoping that they might have just broken the sickness; that he might just come to his senses. But then..............

"You lie..........that pompous, arrogant, faithless husband of yours has sent you in hopes that you can sweet talk me; that you can cast some spell over me and I will hand over his gems............Well it will not work. The gems, the gold in this Mountain are mine. I will part with nothing, not a single coin........not a single coin." Thorin growled. (Y/n) able to feel a single tear make its way down her cheek. The sickness that had claimed Thrór, now claiming his grandson, and there was nothing that she could do. The elven queen slowly backing away. Slowly turning and making her way back to where her husband, Bard and their armies waited.

"Take your wench and be gone, elf. Her wiles will not work on me. There will be no deal............" Thorin shouted out, as he returned to the others. The elven army notching their arrows and pointing them at the dwarves, at the slur to their queen's name. Thranduil pulling his sword from its sheath, wanting nothing more than to take the dwarves head from his body for what he had just called his wife.

"Meleth nîn............" (Y/n) pleaded, as she placed her hand over her husband's blade and lowered it.

"Please don't..........."

"I will not.............."

"I do not care what Thorin says, what he thinks to call me. Please. I just want to see my son; to be with you............" The queen continued, as she was helped back onto the white stag. Her eyes looking up to the ramparts one more time. The faces of the dwarves, of Balin and Dwalin proving that they had not liked what Thorin had said; but she knew that there was nothing that they could do or say. The queen giving the sons of Fundin a sad smile, before she turned the stag and steered it back through the elven army.