The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Fire within

They had been travelling for a day now, and it felt as though every single one of Clarrei's bones ached. She could have wept with relief when Thorin called out: "We will stop here for tonight."They had stopped in a small stony hollow that overlooked a beautiful hillside. There was a glorious sunset as the Company dismounted their ponies. Bilbo fell onto his backside as soon as his feet hit the ground, resulting in laughter from the dwarves. Clarrei helped the hobbit up, smiling as he thanked her, a blush still covering his cheeks. She had this effect on men, she knew, but she would never use it for her benefit. It would wear off soon, it always did, like when one sees a beautiful bird for the first time, and can't stop watching it, but eventually your eyes could adjust to the enchanting colours.

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She was like a graceful bird, sweeping through the camp, setting out the sleeping-rolls with practice. Thorin couldn't help but stare, his steely eyes fixed on that vibrant hair. Everything about her captivated him, her eyes, her smile, her laugh, even the way she moved. She was fetching firewood with Bofur, the pair of them in a humour-filled conversation. Thorin watched them laughing, and wished with all his heart that it was him making her laugh, not the miner. Bofur struggled to light the fire, the flints sparking but never lighting the tinder-wood. To Thorin's amazement, Clarrei knelt and lit the fire in 5 seconds, but with a flame that shot from her palm. She looked up to see the dwarves staring at her, Bilbo included. She smiled at them."Something Radagast taught me." "Radagast?""The wizard who raised me." She explained. "Fire seems to be my speciality." As if to demonstrate, she set her hand alight, the flames seeming to dance over her smooth white fingers. Clenching her fist, the flames extinguished with a light hiss. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a blue fire, Thorin thought. A sudden cry made Bilbo look up. "What was that?" He asked, fear lacing his expression and voice. Kili looked to the horizon, expression serious and eyes darkened. "Orcs." He said ominously."Orcs?""Throat cutters." continued Fili, smoking his pipe. "There'll be dozens of them out there."To any other person, it may have seemed as thought the young dwarves were merely warning the hobbit of the danger, but Thorin could see the light of mischief in their eyes. He could feel his rage boil. Did they really think Orcs so amusing? "They attack in the wee, small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood." Kili whispered, allowing his voice to trail off into a dramatic silence. Bilbo looked behind himself, fear tensing his small frame. Clenching his fists, Thorin got to his feet and growled, in his lowest tone:"You think that's funny?"

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Thorin was furious, Clarrei could tell that much. His hair was practically bristling, and his eyes were blazing with fire worthy of a dragon. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?" He growled, sending a searing glare in his nephews' direction. Kili looked down sheepishly at the ground."We didn't mean anything by it.""No you didn't." Spat Thorin, stalking off to the rocky outcrop. "You know nothing of the world."

Clarrei watched him go, feeling a strange sense of pity and sadness well up in her chest. She stepped carefully after him, treading slowly on the looser rocks. She stood next to the silent prince as Balin's quiet voice rose behind them, telling the story of Moria. Clarrei looked to Thorin as the story of how he took the Pale Orcs' hand, and his face was shrouded in shadow. She couldn't help but feel guilt swamp over her. After all, it was her father who caused the dwarves to have to try to reclaim their previous home, which had resulted in the death of Thorin's brother, brother-in-law, and grandfather. Of course, he could never find out. When the rest of the dwarves had went to their bed-rolls, the two of them still sat up, and Clarrei finally spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Thorin looked surprised.
"For what?"
"For your loss. I know what that feels like."
At that, Thorin narrowed his eyes. His voice was spiteful as he replied.
"How would you know what it feels like to have your father go mad, to have no real home?"
There was a moment's awkward silence and Thorin clapped a hand over his mouth when he remembered what Clarrei had told him about her father.
"Clarrei, I am so sorry, I didn't mean-"
Clarrei just held up a hand, a small smile on her lips.
"It's alright, Thorin. I just wanted you to know that I understood."
There was another moment's silence as they stared into each other's eyes. A sudden blush covering her cheeks, Clarrei looked away, stammering:
"I should go, I-it's late."
Thorin nodded, also going an interesting shade of pink.
"O-of course."
They then began to try to walk past each other, but when Clarrei went one way, Thorin went the same. An interesting dance then seemed to ensue, before Thorin, seized by daring, held Clarrei's arms and lifted her, turning her to the side. She couldn't help but shiver, feeling Thorin's strong hands on her. Stepping away hastily, she walked speedily away to her bed-roll, very aware of a certain pair of crystal-blue eyes watching her the entire way.