Erebor, Lonely Mountain

1. Thorin | Follow You

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A/N: Angsty then Fluffy. Exactly how I like it. - Nemo

Request: Hi could you please write a story about reader and Thorin... Reader having War scars on all her body.. And she is scared that Thorin might be put off by it and he shows her that it's not true.... 

Summary: Erebor has been reclaimed, but not without some loss, mostly taken via bodily harm. However, celebrations are set to be held, and one dwarrowdam isn't too keen on the idea. Thorin changes her mind.

*** 

The Company almost couldn't believe it.

Erebor was theirs.

It didn't belong to a dragon anymore.

It wasn't being attacked by Orcs.

It was home again.

The Dwarfs from Middle-Earth had all come back, the mines in the mountain back up and running, and the trading towns of Dale and Laketown were flourishing and filled with forms from all walks of life once more. A celebration was held. It was for everyone, after all in a way everyone did help reclaim the mountain in some way.

Dwarves, Humans, and Elves alike would journey to Erebor, even Thranduil had made sure to get there early (thanks to some bribing) so as to not miss anything. But despite the buzz of excitement over the grand party, there was one that was more anxious about it than joyous.

(y/n) wasn't too keen on the idea of a party, especially when Thorin's sister, Dis, arrived at the mountain and took her - the only dwarrowdam of the Company - under her careful watch. (y/n) had no idea about how to act around royalty or high-courteers, Thorin and the rest of the Company weren't half as concerned about titles and formalities during the journey compared to what was expected. So Dis taught her, and for that she was grateful. Without Dis, she would've made a fool out of herself at least four times now, and still counting.

But still, (y/n) had yet to be seen outside you quarters wearing clothes that weren't traveling clothes.

Most of the other female courteers wore dresses that could've been woven from the gemstones in the mines. They sparkled and shone, they swished around their ankles like waves lapping at the shores, and the worst part for (y/n) - they often had nothing to cover their shoulders, and sometimes even a length down their back.

(y/n) didn't like that at all.

She had no problem with the dresses themselves, she thought they were amazingly beautiful, but she just couldn't help the feelings of what others might think of her if she wore one outside of her room and Dis' company. Not that she didn't look good in the dress, in fact she was told frequently by Dis that she looked stunning.

She was covered in scars, and she didn't think that looked good at all.

The scars that littered her back, arms, torso, and most of her body were all from battle. Oh the stories her skin could tell. Somewhere old and white, some were faded, others left ghosts of scars that ached when the weather changed, others were from the journey to Erebor, still pink and fresh, and yet others newer, still tender and sore from the Battle of Five Armies.

Even (y/n) didn't escape harm, no matter how hard she tried. After all, it was part of her duty to make sure the King and Dis' two sons didn't die, and if she gained some new scrapes and bruises from it then it didn't worry her. Not until now, when she'd have to practically show them off to everyone she walked past.

Now music echoed through the stone hallways, and (y/n) was stuck in front of her mirror again, Dis was nowhere to be seen, probably already downstairs in the hall with Fili and Kili, so encouragement wasn't coming anytime soon. Not from Dis.