Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit-Imagines and Oneshots

Thorin- Lost Lady of Erebor pt. 3

Continued request for 04olivia04 Sorry it's so late!

Over the past two decades, Thorin Oakenshield learned that good times were never everlasting, but craved and cherished nonetheless. They came and went, and it was evil that always took them away. It was almost like people don't recognize this fact, for during good times, they forget that evil still exists somewhere in the world. Either that or they choose to turn a blind eye to it. In a way, people over-indulged in the golden ages and don't take the time to imagine if they could possible end. They get emotional and absorbed in the moments of light, and that makes them stupid. 

But who was Thorin to judge? He had made the same mistake the day you had been taken from him.

The day when he thought you were safe.

The day he was going to marry you.

He still hadn't forgiven himself, and he never would. His kingdom grieved the following years after the witch took you, but after time, they accepted what had happened and moved on. But not the king. Your capture had left him with a wound in his heart, one that--to this very day, ten years later--hadn't healed. 

He had changed since you were taken, and not for the better. He spent long hours sulking in his room. Outside of that, he had trouble looking his subjects in the eyes. He figured that if he couldn't protect you as a husband, how could he protect a whole kingdom?

His close friends and family noticed his hair gradually graying and his once stunning blue eyes turning dull, but he didn't. He couldn't look at his own reflection anymore. He believed himself a failure. 

"She's still out there," he mumbled one day as he sat on his throne, interrupting his cousin Dwalin, who had been reporting recent activity within the mountain. You were entirely unrelated to the topic at hand, but he thought about you constantly, and couldn't help but believe you were still alive. 

"Thorin..." Dwalin said softly after a silence. "She's gone."

"I am no king without my queen," he said absentmindedly. "Perhaps it would be best if Fili took the crown now."

"No," Dwalin said sternly. "You are too young to retire and Fili is too young to be king. I know you miss her--we all do--but you must accept her passing." 

Thorin looked at him and shook his head. "No... I hear her, Dwalin. I hear her everywhere in Erebor. She is calling for me."

"It is not her, it is your grief. I fear it will swallow you up if you don't learn how to put it behind you."

"How can you expect me," he said, his gaze turned violent, "to put my One behind me? It is impossible! You don't understand..."

"You're right," Dwalin admitted with tears in his eyes. Twenty-five years ago he had stood here before Thorin's throne. Though under very different circumstances, it seemed both had to do with Thorin losing himself. 

"But what I do understand," Dwalin continued, "is that you are a king, and kings must put aside their own feelings for their people. It's been ten years, Thorin, and the people only ever see you here sitting on your ass while they rebuild Erebor on their own. You-"

Though Thorin considered his cousin's words, he approached another topic. "(Y/n)'s seventieth birthday is coming up, and I will not let it pass without celebration. If the people want to see me, we should have a ball and invite everyone."

Dwalin was slightly taken aback by this sudden and positive statement coming out of Thorin's mouth. It made the gears moving in his head stop and rewind. "That sounds wonderful. I shall begin making arrangement now."