The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

A Promise

The next day saw the beginning of preparations for the journey to the Lonely Mountain, which they would leave for tomorrow. The dwarves were fitted for armour, as well as Bilbo and Clarrei. Although she insisted she would be fine, Thorin believed her natural dragon scales would be strengthened by the armour. Still, the best thing personally for the dragon was when she was finally given a sword again. She knew she could fight with fire, teeth and claws, but after using a blade for 60 years, there was something comforting about holding the balanced weapon in her hands. That day, she spent time brushing up on her movements, out in the courtyard. But then, she was interrupted by a cough. Clarrei turned to see Dwalin, dressed in a far fancier garb than she had seen the warrior wear before.
"Hello, Dwalin." She said, looking him up and down curiously. "Why the new clothes?"
At that, the warrior blushed and looked away.
"Actually, I am going into the town, and I needed some advice."
Clarrei smiled, seeing where this was going.
"It's about time!" She squealed. "She's a local girl, then?"
The dwarf nodded, smiling.
"I'd go to Thorin about this, but I'd feel awkward. That and he wouldn't let me live it down."
Clarrei shook her head and laughed.
"Well I'm honoured you would come to me for help. What do you need help with?" She asked, sitting on a nearby wall. Dwalin awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
"Well, that's the thing. I've no idea how to talk to her. You saw how I was yesterday, I work better with actions, not words!"
Clarrei smiled, remembering the adorably funny scene yesterday. She thought for a moment. Then it came to her.
"Try doing what Thorin did for me for a courting gift," she suggested. "If you speak better with actions, give her a gift that shows you care. I guarantee you, it will make a statement."
Dwalin nodded slowly, before his eyes lit up.
"Got it. Thank you my friend." He said, hugging the dragon gratefully. Clarrei laughed, patting his back and watching him leave fondly. With a chuckle and a call of "Good luck!", she picked up her sword and began practicing again. She jumped as a hand covered hers. She turned to see Thorin staring down at her.
"Your stance is a little off, Ghivashel." He said, turning her wrist. She tried to keep her focus as she felt the piercing eyes on her back.
"How was that?" Clarrei asked when she was finished. Thorin smiled.
"The beast won't know what hit him."

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Thorin tried to calm his pounding heart as the blacksmith tightened the straps on his new armour.
"There you are, Your Highness." The old man said, wiping the sweat from his sooty brow. "And I must say, I've never serviced a king before, but it's been a mighty honour." He bowed his head to Thorin, who returned the gesture, feeling pride swell in his chest at the word 'king'. And a King he soon would be.
"And the owner of the greatest riches in Middle Earth."
Thorin blinked. The little voice in his mind was back, then. And it had not been missed. Throughout his entire life, that voice had been in the back of his head, whispering poisoned words to his angry mind, though it had gotten louder and more powerful the closer he got to Erebor. And worryingly, he found himself listening to voice, like it was a council. It whispered dark thoughts of war, revenge and gold. It seemed to care about gold most of all. Shaking his head clear of these foreboding thoughts, Thorin paid the blacksmith and left, deciding to check on how his youngest nephew was faring. Over the last day, his condition had worsened, and Thorin found himself growing more worried as he went into Kili's room and saw his nephew in bed, his face sickly pale. Still, he attempted to sit up as his uncle came in, and he even tried to smile.
"Hello, Thorin. Everything ready for leaving tomorrow?"
Thorin gave the boy a halfhearted grin. Really, Kili should be focusing on getting better, not tomorrow's journey, but he had inherited his mother's stubborn nature and was determined to join the Company the next day.
"Almost." He replied. "Everyone is just getting re-acquainted with real weapons, armour fittings, that sort of thing. How's your leg?"
Kili just shrugged.
"It's fine." Was all he said. Thorin narrowed his eyes. Clearly, his nephew was lying to him.
"Then you wouldn't mind me looking at it?"
At that, Kili's eyes widened, and he awkwardly pulled his bedcovers over his leg.
"Erm...well...healer says I shouldn't expose it to air. Infection, you know."
A little smirk quirked up the corner of Thorin's mouth. He tested the air, and his nose wrinkled in disgust at the foul smell.
"Seems to me your leg is already infected." Kili looked down at his knees sheepishly.
"Maybe a little." He muttered, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. Thorin frowned.                                                                                                 "You can have Clarrei look at it," he insisted, standing to find the healer, but Kili pulled him back down, his eyes wide.                                                          "Please don't." His knuckles had turned white with the effort of keeping his uncle in his place. "She's already tried. She tried a dragon healing, and what little herbs we have, and they didn't work." His head drooped, and he sniffled as tears dripped down his cheeks. "It hurt more than the poison." He then looked up in earnest. "But I'll be fine for tomorrow, Uncle. Dwarf's honour." He said jokingly, laying a hand on his heart. Thorin couldn't help but smile and laugh, though he felt that his nephew may have to stay behind tomorrow. He couldn't risk this mission for anything, not even his own kin.

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Now dawned the day of the journey, and Clarrei took a deep breath as she stared into the mirror. She wore the armour crafted for her, a shining silver-white. Her hair was left in curls down her back, though two pieces of hair at the front were braided and met at the back. Her new sword hung at her hip, the hilt engraved with Eragith as she requested. She took a deep breath, and allowed her dragon form to come forth. Her armour was coated in red and gold scales, though there were now sparkles of white. Her wings rose elegantly through her back, flapping gently. She smiled as the scales pattering her body covered her cheeks, throat and forehead lightly. Horns sprouted from beneath her hair, spiraling gently at the tips. Finally, her eyes became gold, and her hands, which retained their skin, grew claws. She opened her blood-red mouth to reveal sharpened fangs. But a knock at the door and a little voice made her look around and gasp. There stood little Tilda, with Sigrid and Bain holding onto her shoulders. The older two looked shocked, while Tilda just watched the dragon hybrid with curiosity. Clarrei whispered, her voice shaking as she took in their individual expressions.
"Hello."
Tilda shook off her sibling's grasps, and slowly approached the dragon. Clarrei almost sobbed when she saw the girl still had her hair braided the way she had left it. She closed her eyes, being unable to bear Tilda's rejection, but gasped when a pair of little arms wrapped around her scaly waist.
"My mother went to sleep the last time she left us. I don't want you to go to sleep too. Promise?" She asked, looking up with big, innocent eyes. Holding back tears, Clarrei nodded.
"I promise." She swore, returning the embrace.

A.N.// And ALL the feels were had that day! I promise, guys there will be Smaug next chapter, I just thought it would be a good filler to have a little preparation before leaving, that and I wanted to write more Clarrei and Tilda cuteness!! Let's face it, that girl was absolutely adorable! Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you soon, my hobbits!
P.S. Let me know what you thought in the comments, I like hearing your brain babies!😜