In The Works

Middle Earth - Daughter of Erebor

A Middle Earth Fanfiction

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Summary

Ever since she was a child, Frena's father told her great tales of Erebor and the King under the Mountain. She grew and became a skilled carver of stone, a creator of beautiful things in her own right. And she grew into the woman who would hold Thorin's heart.  

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Will follow Frena (name subject to change, even if that's rather unlikely at this point), the dwarf-woman who Thorin will fall in love with and vice versa. And yeah, I know. The summary's very rough. :S

You know? I'm starting to think my brain hates me....here's another one that won't let me be! Oh well. I'm not entirely sure this one will ultimately be a full-bore multi-thousand war story. The way I'm envisioning it now is more a series of vignettes about Frena and Thorin's life together with the focus being on Frena. And no, she's not going to join the Quest for Erebor. I'm not a fan of 'additional walker' stories.

Oh, and it will tentatively be part of my Daughters of Middle Earth series....though, I'm sure the title gives that away... :P 

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Prologue Sneak Peek

"Now, my Gem," her father said sternly, "you must show him the utmost respect and honour. He is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He is our King in Exile, as his father was before him, and he is a mighty warrior, a hero of the Battle of Azanulbizar. You remember the stories I taught you? Of Erebor and our birthright? He is of the line of Durin, and grandson of the last King under the Mountain." 

Frena heeded her father diligently, her sapphire-hued eyes wide with awe and determination. She would not let him down. She might be young yet—the first feather-soft traces of her beard were only just beginning to grow—but she would make her father proud. She would treat this Thorin as though he were the king her father had named, exile or not. 

"He has survived much," Furlar continued, his own awe clear in his voice, "he has lived through dragonfire and battle and exile, holding fast to the honour of his revered bloodline, his manner of the same noble vein as his grandfather."

"Yes, father," she promised, voice hushed and reverent, though threaded with excitement that had her father's cheeks rounding beneath his thick beard and his eyes twinkling happily.

He was exactly as her father described; tall noble and handsome just as she imagined a king aught to be, with long, dark hair and thick beard—shorter than many of her kin wore theirs, but still handsome—and clear blue eyes that reminded her of the diamonds her father worked with, keen and hard.

But he also seemed...tired to her. Lost even. 

Others around her and her father whispered how he bore the weight of their hardship well, how his strength and determination were inspiration to them all. But to Frena he looked tired, like he just wanted to go home.

It was a truth that she had been able to see with the clarity of perception that only the really young possessed. And deep in her heart she could sympathize.

All her short life thus far, she had heard tale after magnificent tale told of the homeland of their forefathers, of Erebor. Though she'd never seen the Lonely Mountain with her own eyes, though she had never before left the Blue Mountains where she had been born, a part of her longed to see those ancient halls with a fierce and fervent desire she was still too young to fathom.

As Thorin walked past, every dwarf around them nodded deeply, some even bowing low out of respect, her father among them. And as they straightened, she beamed with pride as the dark-haired young dwarf-lord smiled sedately in her father's direction, clasping his forearm for a brief moment and asking about his trade. Furlar chuffed happily, his chest puffing out with pride that he was known to Thorin Oakenshield. 

"That, my Gem," he whispered to her after Thorin had moved on, greeting others as he went, "that is the dwarf that will see us home again. You mark my words, Frena. Thorin will see our people restored to the Halls of Erebor once again." And as she turned to watch the young King-in-Exile disappear into the crowd, she believed her father with all her heart.