The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Building Bridges

"Thorin, you have to fix this."
Thorin watched the red-clad figure striding towards the house of Rivendell. He had had no idea that she was that powerful. He felt a sudden twinge of fear for his kin and Company. Was it them she felt anger towards, or merely him?
"I know, Balin. But I do not trust myself around her. I do not know what I might do."
The old dwarf sighed. He knew why Thorin felt like he did. The lad had found his One, and she had turned out to be the daughter of the creature that stole their home from them.
"Just remember lad, Clarrei isn't Smaug. She didn't steal the Mountain from us, her father did. Alright?" He asked, almost sternly looking at his prince. Thorin, with a deep breath, pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and , steeling his resolve, he left, making his way to the dining-hall, where Lord Elrond was setting up for tonight's festivities. The Elf seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Gandalf, and Thorin suspected the Wizard had had words with him. Good, he smirked. He had to admit, the dining-hall looked decent for Elves' effort. The tables had vanished completely, and there were several hard with fireflies in them hanging around the room, casting a gentle glow everywhere. The orchestra seemed to be setting up, and Thorin hoped that he would not be required to dance. There was only one woman he would have considered dancing with, and she was Mahal knew where. She's a dragon, he reminded himself. You shouldn't want to dance with her at all. But all that went out of his mind when he saw her coming down the steps. Her tall, elegant frame was now in a sleek red dress that seemed to move like liquid fire, while a long cloak billowed out behind her, attached under her arms. A large slit in the skirt revealed one leg, and her feet were now encased in bright red heels. Her long flaming hair was in long sheets now, and her eyes seemed to glow with a new light. She looked every inch the princess of fire. All that was missing was a crown. The Elves parted to let her pass, and she seemed to glide through them as she approached him.
"Clarrei-" Thorin began, but she just raised one hand, silencing him.
"No need, Thorin. You do not want me to join your quest, and I see that. But let me tell you, it is the biggest mistake you will ever make. You. Will. Burn." She hissed the last three words in his face before she strode off, her heels clacking on the marble floor. Thorin just watched her, gaping. Where had that come from? He had never hinted that he didn't want her to come, did he? Ah, but you did, said the voice in his mind with a sneer, you said you no longer knew who she was, you never even went to comfort her when she was suffering, did you? Thorin knew, without even having to answer that voice, that it was right. Clarrei had seemed devastated at the way he had treated her, and who could blame her? He sat at one of the smaller tables that had been placed around the room for the party and buried his head in his hands. He had to apologise, he had to get her to come on this quest, or he would lose his mind.

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Clarrei tried to ignore the burning pain in her forearm as she walked the halls of Rivendell. It had hurt her to see the pain in Thorins' eyes, but s it was for the best. He was a dwarf, she was a dragon, they just weren't meant to be together. Elrond was having a party tonight. She smirked, he was probably trying to make up for letting her heritage slip. But no matter, it had freed her; freed her from her self-built prison of fear. Fear of what her powers could do. But now she knew there was nothing to be afraid of. Or maybe there was, she wondered as the dwarves of the Company scuttled by with their heads bent. They were safer away from her. She was meant to be alone, that was how it had always been. She walked into her room and opened her wardrobe. There hung every dress or item of clothing she had ever owned in Rivendell. With a wave of her hand, the bright colours vanished and became mixtures of red, orange, yellow, white and black fabrics. Clarrei smiled, she hadn't known fire powers could do that. She slipped a new dress from the rack, removed the old one, and began to dress herself. A knock at the door made her start. Fastening the ties at the back, she called out:
"Come in."
The door opened and Arwen entered, followed by a willowy, golden-haired elf in a long white dress. Clarrei gasped and curtsied.
"Lady Galadriel!"
The blonde She-Elf gave a radiant smile.
"Hello, young one. I see your powers have strengthened."
She remarked, casting one sky-blue eye over Clarrei's attire. Said keen eyes soon spotted the silver mark on her arm. With a sudden gasp, she seized the dragons' wrist and peered in horror at what she saw. The usually beautiful silver mark was now rimmed in red, and looked angry and raw.
"Clarrei, what happened?" Arwen asked in horror. "Didn't you talk to Thorin?"
"Thorin?" Galadriel's voice was surprised.
"Yes, Thorin's her soulmate." Arwen replied, her voice impatient. "Did you not tell him?"
"I was going to," Clarrei explained. "But when he discovered I was a dragon, he acted as though I was a stranger."
The Elves looked at each other in horror.
"Clarrei," Galadriel said sternly. "Did he reject you?"
Clarrei thought for a moment.
"Well, no not exactly."
"What do you mean by 'not exactly'?"
Clarrei took a deep breath and told them the whole story. When she had finished, Arwen's periwinkle-blue eyes were huge and filled with tears.
"So he doesn't know?"
Clarrei shook her head.
"No."
The Lady of Lorien began to pace the room, her long golden hair flowing in a non-existent breeze.
"You will have to tell him, my child."
She said, her voice serious. "If you do not, the consequences are dire."
Clarrei didn't respond. She knew what the consequences would be. A slow, agonising death.

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The music was playing, the Elves were dancing, and even the Company was joining in, but one dwarf did not partake in the merriment. Thorin sat brooding over a glass of Elven wine, his eyes unfocused and lost in thought. He just could not get Clarrei out of his mind. What was he to do? She was his One, if he spent the rest of his long life without her, her would surely waste away. But she was a dragon, he kept reminding himself. But wouldn't a dragon help defeat a dragon? He didn't know what to do.
"You have to at least talk to her."
Thorin looked up to see Dwalin standing there, his arms folded.
"Thorin, I know that you have a personal score against Smaug, but Balin is right. Don't tell him I said that," he added. "He'd never let me live it down."
Thorin couldn't help but smile. Dwalin was his oldest friend, he trusted his judgement more than anyone's. The bald warrior continued:
"Clarrei is not responsible for what her father has done, she wasn't even born then. And from what she has told us, I doubt that it would be a very cheerful reunion."
"I will think about allowing her to join us."
Dwalin nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get much more than that. With that, he left to join the rest of the Company, who were mingling around the sizeable banquet. A sudden hush fell over the room, and Thorin looked up to see Clarrei entering. She wore a long black gown, that had flame-like patterns on the shoulder-pads. The material seemed almost to be made of smoke, and hissed when she walked. Silver gauntlets adorned her wrist, and a chain pendant with an inlaid ruby rested in the juncture of her throat. She was an absolute goddess, and Thorin found himself standing and walking to her, his feet moving of their own accord, only stopping when he stood directly in front of Clarrei.
"Clarrei." He said, nodding his head.
"Thorin." She replied, her own nod curt. A moments' awkward silence grew between them, and as the Elves stuck up a song, and various couples moved to the dance floor, Thorin found himself asking:
"May I have this dance?"
Clarrei looked at him for a minute or so, as though contemplating his methods, before shrugging and agreeing. She took his hand, and Thorin tensed at the sparks that ran up and down his arm at the contact. Did she feel that too? The One bond? Or did dragons have something different?  He gently laid one hand on her waist, and she placed one slender hand on his shoulder. They swept gracefully into a waltz, spinning in perfect time to the music. Thorin cleared his throat, taking the chance.
"Clarrei, I would like to apologise for how I treated you when I discovered your true heritage."
She looked surprised. What had she been expecting?
"Th-that's alright, Thorin. It's perfectly understandable. But I want to help you."
"Help me?"
"I believe that Middle Earth would be much better off without my fathers' evil poisoning it. And I despise just as much as you do."
Thorin chuckled. He couldn't help but find her sarcastic look amusing.
"If you will allow me, I would like to continue with the Company on the quest."
Thorin mulled it over for a moment. Perhaps he should. It may be helpful to have a dragon when tackling a dragon. Yes, she may not be able to shift, but there was still time to learn, wasn't there? And you can't deny, said the little voice in his head, you can't bear to be parted from her, can you?
But he ignored the voice, and he gave Clarrei his answer.
"I believe the Company would benefit from you presence.
Clarrei's smile was bright enough to light up the room.

A.N/ Well finally they've made up! While I was writing this, I was screaming at them during the dance scene. I was like "KISS KISS KISS!!!" But sadly, that will come later, my little hobbits... Anyway, I just want to thank you all again for reading this story, I have now hit 6.02K reads!! That's amazing, thank you guys so much for all the love! Also, updates may be later because I have a lot on with school and trying to have a social life...let's just see how the second one turns out, shall we? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and until next time, Happy Wattpadding!!!