Richard Armitage Imagines

IMAGINE: Thorin falling in love with you, an Elf

     You feel the heat of Thorin's glare as you get settled away from the rest of the Company who's around the campfire. This is your first night with the Company as they're on their way to reclaim Erebor.

     You're an Elf from the Woodland Realm. King Thranduil heard about Thorin going to reclaim Erebor and he sent you to help—not out of the kindness of his own heart, but because he wants you to find his wife's jewels if you reclaim the Lonely Mountain. Thorin, hating you to the very depths of his soul, bargained that if you're going to be part of the Company, Thranduil needs to allow the Company free access into Mirkwood. Thranduil complied with minimal hesitation.

     You lay down on the ground and put your hands behind your head, staring up at the star littered sky. You glance at Thorin and still find him glaring at you. You sigh. You're trying to distance yourself from the Company as much as possible. You don't want to get in their way and make Thorin hate you even more. You turn your back to the Company and close your eyes.

---

     You wake up after hearing heavy footsteps against the ground. You open your eyes and see Orc shadows moving around the Dwarves. They don't see you since you're set apart from them. You inconspicuously reach for your bow and arrows. You nock an arrow as an Orc is about to raise its ax down on Thorin. You hold your breath and let the arrow fly. It hits its mark.

     The Orc squeals loudly causing all the other ten Orcs to quickly look around to see where the shot came from. The Orc falls dead on top of Thorin. All the Dwarves are soon up and reaching for their weapons. You rapidly fire off your arrows until all the Orcs are dead.

     The Company, breathing heavily, stare at you in incredulity.

     "You saved us..." Fili breathes in shock.

     "Of course. I wasn't just going to let them kill you." You reply, setting your bow down.

     "Thank you..., Y/N." Balin says, putting a hand on his heart.

     "We owe you." Dwalin says, nodding. Everyone thanks you. Everyone but Thorin who just looks at you, emotionless.

     "I suggest we move out, Thorin. Who knows how many more Orcs are lurking through the forest?" Gandalf suggests.

     "I agree with the Wizard. An Orc almost chopped my head off and I don't want to stick around here any longer." Kili says. Everyone looks on in silence as Thorin makes up his mind.

     "We move out. Now." Thorin states.

     You immediately start packing up your things. You glance at Thorin and he gives you the barest of smiles—so bare you almost think you imagined it, before packing up his own things.

---

     You've been with the Company for a month now and have made friends with everyone, save for Thorin, though he isn't as cold to you as he was when you first met.

     One night as you're gathering firewood alone, you hear a branch snap in the forest and bushes rustling. You immediately drop the firewood and draw your bow, alert.

      "Who's there?" You question, slowly turning in a circle.

     Thorin comes out from behind a tree, firewood in his arms. "Relax, Y/N, it's just me." He says.

     You sigh and put away your bow. "What are you doing out here?" You ask, picking up your firewood.

     "Same as you—gathering firewood." He answers, bending to pick up a branch.