Complicated (Thorin Oakenshield x Reader) [Slow Updates]

Chapter Eighteen

As the morning sun filters into the alcove, (Y/N) is gently shaken awake. She opens her eyes lazily, only to find Bofur's face a few inches from hers. She jumps, yelping in surprise, and he backs up, apologizing.

"Sorry, (Y/N), didn't mean ta scare ya! I was just gonna tell ya that we're about to start moving, so you'd best pack up your stuff," he says, walking off to wake the other heavy sleepers. Shaking off her startlement, she stretches, glancing over at Thorin's spot beside her.

He was no longer there. In fact, there was nary a hint that he'd ever been there at all. Which makes sense, I'm sure he's an early riser, she thinks. So why does she still feel disappointed?

Huffing, she rises to her feet, rolling up her bedroll. After she's done that, she takes a moment to examine her shoulder wound, which appears to be healing up nicely. As she rewraps the bandages, she can't help but wonder if anyone saw the two of them last night. Bifur was on watch, she supposed.

She frowns to herself. Even if he did see, what does it matter? He was just comforting me! As a friend. Naturally. By Varda's stars, why am I reading into this?

As she finishes packing up her belongings, they start on the road east once more. While they travel, she finds herself peering ahead, watching Thorin as he walks at the head of the group - his broad shoulders, his dark, tousled hair, his confident gait, his--

"What's got you all moony?" Kili teases, chuckling under his breath. She jumps, surprised to have been caught, but quickly covers her reaction with a scoff.

"W-what?! I-" she clears her throat, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

Kili rolls his eyes playfully, a grin on his face.

"If you say so! Anyway, did Bofur or I ever tell you about the prank he pulled on Bombur while we were in Rivendell? I think you were off doing your own thing, but it was hilarious! See, Bombur was sitting on a table . . ." Kili rambles on, and she listens intently, grateful that he'd dropped the Thorin thing. She cracks up as he describes Bofur tossing a sausage to Bombur, causing the large Dwarf to fall hard on his arse. Bofur himself even chimes in here and there, bubbling with laughter.

Once the laughter dies down, she's still smiling to herself. Journeys like these are certainly better in good company.

~~~~

(Y/N) prowls through the undergrowth, (E/C) eyes glowing in the dying dusk sunlight. It had been a week or two since the encounter with the eagles, and they had just made it over Anduin Valley.

Over the course of those days, she'd had a good few more midnight conversations with Thorin, and they all held a similar air. He would talk her through her traumas, yes, but in these hours, she learned much about his tribulations, too - the memories of Erebor and Moria that haunted him still.

In fact, as far as traumatic experiences go, they've discovered that they have quite a lot in common. Not only did they both lose their homelands to malevolent creatures, but they both lost their dearest loved ones to the maggot-skinned Orc.

These conversations, she felt, afforded them a newfound bond, forged of shared strifes. And, yet, when morning came, they'd resume acting as if nothing had transpired between them.

She does her best to disregard this, though. She knows he is busy leading the company. He does have responsibilities, after all. She has no doubt that she's the very last thing on the mind of the "Great Thorin Oakenshield."