Suilad, mellon, and thank you so much for showing interest in this story! Here, I have compiled a selection of the life of YOU, yes, YOU dear reader, in the world of Middle Earth. Who will your path lead you to fall for?
Preference chapters that are...
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"Thorin-"
He turns to you immediately. If it were any other time, you would have smiled to see his attentiveness toward you. Seeing as he is ill of the mind, however, you find no excitement in your heart, only uneasy concern and fragile fright. True, you still love him, and you know deep down you always will, but what is your love compared to his domination over gold? Will he ever break out of his curse? You aren't sure that's possible anymore. Your cousin Bilbo insists you must have hope, so you cling to whatever little shreds of optimism the days slip you under the counter, but lately, you have felt heavy in heart and spirit.
"-be cautious."
There is a new host of elves at Dale, aiding the refugees of Laketown; they came overnight. You are both gladdened and bothered by their arrival- happy for the souls receiving the help they need, disturbed that Thorin still intends to refuse the share of gold he promised those same people when they helped the Company only a short time ago. Now, as he heads for the ramparts, you catch his attention, and though you hesitate a moment, you offer a soft warning. What you really want to say is that you miss him, you want him to snap out of his state of perpetual gold lust, you want him to show affection to you as he once did, outside of these looming halls. It is true, Erebor will never be your home, your heart in that regard belongs to the Shire, but for Thorin's sake, you would never leave unless all hope of his return to sanity was gone.
"Why do you warn me as such?" Thorin asks, drawing you aside into the closest corridor. There is the hint of a smile on his lips, but rather than endear you, it makes you feel a little queasy. A frown appears on his face barely a beat later, as you anticipated, when he notices you are without the crown he gave you yesterday. As he asks where it is- "And where is your crown?" -you swallow back a soft curse, wishing you'd thought up an excuse before this conversation.
"It wouldn't do for anyone other than yourself to be seen with a crown when you address the incoming party." You hold your breath for a beat, but he seems to accept your answer, and so you go on. "I only wish you would check your pride, just for a short time."
You blush. Did you really just ask that of him? He blinks, clearly surprised by your questioning, and his eyes narrow with suspicion, as they so often do these days.
"Why?"
"Because I care about you, and I fear the elven king will see your power as, well, arrogance." You can hardly believe you are actually managing to carry out this discussion with Thorin, and that he's not immediately blowing your concerns off like you believed he would. Better add a little flattery, just in case: "He will not be as forgiving with his archers as you are with your words."
Thorin hesitates, and you can see you're starting to get through to him, but the soft light that's appeared behind his eyes disappears when Kili pokes his head around the corner and tells you and his uncle that the envoy from Dale is almost here. Everyone else gathers on the gate now, so you turn to go, but a hand, placed roughly on your arm, stops you.
