Misty Mountains (A Hobbit Fanfiction)

Preface

-60 years before-

It was a beautiful day in Erebor, as well as Dale; one of those days where I wanted to let my hair down and pick flowers in a meadow. But I couldn't today. Today we were going to have supper with the King, his son and his grandson. Twenty minutes before the meal, Mother and Father linked arms, examining the objects around the market inside the mountain. I felt nervous. My palms were sticky with sweat and I kept smoothing the skirt of my best gown.

For the love of Durin, why am I so nervous? I've met them before; I've talked with them before. Except for Thorin. He took one look at me after introductions and left. I sighed at the memory, wandering down a dark stone hallway lit by torches. My heart begins to pound. What if Thorin thinks I'm too short? I've always been pretty small for a dwarf woman and I have grown any since our last meeting. And I didn't have a beard. Oh, my Mahal, what if he preferred beards? I'm so stupid! I shouldn't have come. Panicking, I scurried into the nearest room I found.

Locking the door behind me, I rubbed my eyes and the smooth skin of my face. "Calm down," I whisper. Trying to reassure myself, I added, "You're height is perfectly adequate. If Thorin thinks you're too small, he can fuck himself."

"Oh, really?"

My eyes widen and I whip around, my mahogany brown curls falling from the loose pins in my hair, waving down to my hips. Thorin stood in the doorway to the lavatory across the room. His dark, long hair was dripping water down his bare torso. His muscles gleamed in the sunlight, his chest hair curling while it dried. I licked my lips as he strode over to me, noticing my staring. Thorin says nothing, taking a piece of my hair, braiding it softly but quickly, securing it with one of his handmade, silver beads. He does it once more at the other part of my hair and steps back.

"So tell me, Laelia," He gives me a sharp look, "How is it that I find you in my chambers when I am to dine with you in fifteen minutes?" I'm at a loss for words. I fidget with the metal beads he placed in my hair moments ago, not knowing what to say. Oh, Mahal, this was so embarrassing. He's a prince and I walked in on him while he's half naked. I felt Thorin's eyes boring into my face, but I couldn't look at him.

"Did you buy that gown from the market last year?" He asked in a gentle voice. I nodded, smoothing the skirt again. It was pale gold with etchings of leaves and flowers in golden thread with small moonstones and pale gems embedded around it. The sleeves were long, with a wide neck, fitted from the top flowing to an A-line skirt. "I watched my sister make it for weeks while I extended Fíli and Kíli's training."

I looked up, opening my mouth to speak, but before I could, he said, "Supper," I shut my mouth, feeling defeated, yet flattered at the same time as Thorin shrugs on a blue tunic and a brown fur vest. His hands are clasped behind his back as we walk to the dining hall together. My parents are already sitting, chatting loudly with Thráin and Dís. Thorin pulled out the chair for me, across from Fíli and Kíli. I sat smiling at the boys who were a little younger than me. But Thorin didn't sit down; he stood behind me, hands on my shoulders. "I must speak with Balin, I shall return soon."

My heart fell. I turned to the boys in front of me, "So, how old are you?" I asked, sipping my ale.

Fíli spoke, "I am twenty-two and little Kíli here is seventeen," Fíli grins at his little brother, throwing an arm around his shoulders. They seem to have already had much to drink. Fíli points his mug at me and says with a wink, "The real question here, lass, is how old are you?"

I laugh, giving him a bright smile, "I am twenty-seven,"

"I think we can make it work, Laelia," Kíli winks.

The two boys entertain me with their cheek until suddenly, there was a loud boom. I jump to my feet, seeing Thorin by ledge with Balin. "Dragon!" He yells and then all I see is fire.

My immediate reaction was to find the prince. "Thorin!" I scream, running towards the pillars. "Thorin, where are you?" Over the ledge, the city is engulfed in flames, the men and dwarves running in all directions. A hand pulls me back by my waist.

Covered in soot, Thorin looks me straight in the eyes and says with his deep voice, "Laelia, you need to run. Get your parents and get out of the city," His beard is singed, his lip cut. "You need to go, Laelia. Go!"

I nod wildly, "What about you? We-I can't just leave you here!" The dragon spits fire across the buildings again.

"Laelia, run!" He screams. I didn't move, tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm ordering you to leave! Do not defy me, Laelia." For the first time in my life, I saw Thorin look like he was in pain. "Fíli, Kíli!" The two came running over along with their mother, uncle and my parents. "Lead her out," He ordered them, "Drag her if you must." Thorin cupped my cheek, turned and ran with Balin and Thráin deeper into the mountain.

So we ran and we ran out of the mountain and through the city, but we were not quick enough. The dragon flew over us, spitting fire across bridge connecting Dale and the lands around. Fíli and Kíli covered me with their shields, but my father did not have one. "Mother!" I screamed as she turned to ash before my eyes.