Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit-Imagines and Oneshots

Thorin- Too Late pt. 1

It felt odd. Returning to Erebor after all these years. Your last memories of that place were of fire and death. Your mother had been burnt to a crisp on the steps of the mountain as you fled. The experience had turned you cold and hard. In some ways, you didn't want to go back. 

Hroar, your suitor by arrangement, was in front of you, controlling the pony with its reigns. Your arms were wrapped around his midsection, your front pressed against his back. One year ago, he had asked asked your father for permission to court you. You were the most beautiful of the few dwarrodams among your people, and many a man admired you. Hroar was a noble years older than you, and your father knew that he would be financially benefited if you married him, so he forced you to accept his hand. Though you didn't exactly feel attracted to Hroar, you didn't resist the arrangement. Your heart was broken at the time, and you guessed that he could fill in the cracks. 

Why had your heart been broken? Well, before you had to leave Erebor, you had been head over heels with the prince Thorin Oakenshield. He had been your friend for a while. You had worked as one of the many servants in the mountain, therefore you saw him on an average basis. The two of you laughed together and often times lounged, talking about your thoughts and problems from two very different lives. You knew he didn't and couldn't like you as any more than a friend, so you slowly detached yourself. A dragon kicking you out of your only home seemed to help with that. 

You hadn't seen Thorin in nearly two years since then. Now he was King Under the Mountain. You had moved on and were engaged to be married to a great man. 

"It's nice to be home. Don't you think, love?" Hroar asked as the mountain came into view.

"Oh?" You shook yourself out of your thought bubble. "Yes, of course."

A week passed. You moved into a suite with Hroar. He had so much money, you didn't need to work anymore. He kept you in fine dresses with maids that resembled yourself years before taking care of you. The mountain was in the process of being cleaned, renovated and refurnished, but it still smelled like riches and sounded like memories. 

Hroar was working late tonight. Something about a council meeting. Your maids were dressing you for bed. The stars out the window twinkled with light. You were admiring them when a dark figure suddenly blocked your view. It tapped ever so gently on the glass. Your loyal maids heard the sound nevertheless and immediately went to investigate. 

"There's a man on the window!" one shrieked.

Another grabbed one of Hroar's axes that he always kept by the bed in case of situation like this. "Let's get him!"

Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of the hooded intruder's face. Though it was now a bit more aged and dark, you recognized him. Thorin. 

"YOU ARE ALL DISMISSED!" you yelled to your maids. They looked at you rather oddly. The aggressive one had the ax raised in the air, ready to smash the window and send the intruder falling to his death. 

"But, my lady-"

"Now!"

They muffled away, whispering with confusion among themselves. You rushed to the window and opened it, looking down to see your old friend, who was currently dangling off your window. If he fell, he certainly wouldn't get back up. 

Thorin looked up at you and smiled. "Hi."

Your heart didn't sing the way it used to when you saw him. Instead, you were frustrated. 

"What are you doing here?" you whisper-shouted.

"I had to see you," Thorin insisted, still smiling. "Can I come in?"