Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit-Imagines and Oneshots

Thorin- Queen

You could barely contain yourself as you sat upon your pony. The Lonely Mountain had finally been retrieved, and your best friend, Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, was king under the mountain the way he always knew he would be. Now you and your kin were returning to Erebor at last after taking refuge in the Iron Hills for decades.

You wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, but ever since you had became of age, you held romantic feelings in your heart for Thorin. You admired the way he always thought others (Except when it came to elves. You both hated them.), how he always overcame fear, and of course, how handsome he looked when he would brood. You loved him deeply, and you would anything, even take the crown if you must, to stay by his side.

But alas, you could feel it that he wanted to be nothing more with you than your current friendship. Though it hurt, you respected his unspoken choice. Who would you be if you didn't? As much as you tried, you could not rid yourself of your love for him. It was simply impossible.

Your heart rate quickened as the Lonely Mountain got bigger as you neared it. Your mother rode besides you, a knowing smirk on her slightly wrinkled face.

"Are you excited to see Thorin again?" she said teasingly. "You know, you are a daughter of nobles, it wouldn't be frowned upon if you were to marry him."

"Mother!" you cried and pushed her shoulder. She saw right through her only child like a window. You viewed your romance with Thorin as impossible, but she definitely saw some light in it.

At the gates of Erebor, the Durin princes were waiting. Lady Dis cried out, "Oh, my sons!" and engulfed them in a bone-crushing hug. They lead you inside. The mountains had been tidied up a little, but it was still in desperate need of some love. All in all, it was your old home. While the other dwarves headed to their quarters, you went to throne room where you knew you would find Thorin. You held fist fulls of your dress to keep it from slowing you down as you ran.

In the midst of your running, a yellow light caught your eye. You stopped and looked to the side to see a large room with a solid good floor. You remembered this room looking much different. When Smaug had attacked, there was a gold statue of King Thror being made. He hadn't been sane at the time. You wondered what had happened to cause the gold to become the floor like this.

Enchanted, you walked onto the gold. The tapping of your heeled shoes was the only sound in the room, for you were alone. You gazed at your surroundings with awe. Though Erebor had been untouched by dwarven hands for ages, it never ceased to be amazing- gold flooring or not.

"(Y/n)? Is that really you?" You heard a voice echo from the other side of the room. You looked up to see a majestic figure in a fur robe with a gold crown upon his head walking towards you. An unstoppable grin grew between your ears.

"Thorin!" You shouted and ran into his arms.

"(Y/n)," he sighed softly into your hair. The strong hands on your back pulled you closer to the now king under the mountain. His scent was the same as it had been over a year ago when you had hugged him farewell. The only difference in the embrace was the regal fur coat and seemingly stronger arms.

You held his shoulders as you gazed adoringly in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Thorin. I believe you will be the greatest king Erebor has ever seen."

"Thank you, dearest," he said. His words warmed your heart. "You can not begin to imagine just how much I've missed you over the time we've been apart. It was too long."

"Oh, but I'm here now!" You assured him happily. He removed your hands from his shoulders and held them tightly yet tenderly in his own.

"And that alone brings me more joy than you can imagine," he said with a warm smile. You blushed.