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Stay With Me [Thorin Oakenshield]
- LECTURES 22,741
- Votes 751
- Chapitres 28
Contenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture7h 43m
Dernière publication mer., avr. 15, 2026
She caught his arm. "No, please - Thorin - the company needs you, I-" The breath caught in her throat. His gaze remained turned from her. "You can't go. Please!" Desperate, her hands went to his face, turning it back towards her.
"Please." The word came out barely a sound.
"Stay with me."
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She joined the quest to reclaim a mountain.
She didn't expect to reclaim herself along the way.
Louisa Goldsby has spent her whole life reading about the world beyond the Shire's borders. She knows the terrains, the dangers, the histories, the cultures - everything except what any of it actually feels like. When Gandalf arrives with a company of thirteen dwarves and an offer she cannot refuse, she discovers that no book could have prepared her for what she finds along the way.
Not the road. Not the company.
And certainly not the king.
As the company travels deeper into danger, Louisa begins to understand that her presence on this journey is no coincidence - and that Gandalf's reasons for bringing her along reach further back than the desolation of Smaug and further forward than the reclaiming of Erebor.
Perhaps she should have known better. After all, she had read enough to know: a wizard's intentions always run deeper than they let on.
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"This whole chapter has me GAGGED. I was already desperate for more after the heartbreaking encounter between Bard and Louisa but THIS? Incomparable. This chapter takes the cake. The lore is lore-ing. The feels are being felt. The shock has shocked. Absolute tea. The drama? The chaos? No other words. No crumbs. No food is needed to be consumed to be this gagged on the sheer volume of fine shyte I just read. Give me an oxygen mask, please, I need to breathe."
- Comment by @hoecules on Chapter 21
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"Someday you will return home too." Reluctantly, she opened one of the heavy wooden chests. The lid creaked loudly as it flipped back. A dusty cloak. Coins. Letters. Rusty nails. At least a few useful things. She threw the cloak over her shoulders, put the money in her pockets and disappeared outside. Was it worth it? What was still anything worth...? Her hand slid into her leather doublet. She felt something ... soft, very small in her hand. Slowly she pulled it out and eyed it. The little crushed blue flower. Forget-Me-Not. "I will never forget you." She made her way northwarth. Homecoming. The rights of the characters, which I have invented myself and built into this plot, belong to me. The rights of all other characters are owned by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens and Guillermo del Toro. This fan fiction is not based on the book "The Little Hobbit" by J. R. R. Tolkien, but on the films "The Hobbit" directed by Peter Jackson.
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