Thorin's fingers stroked down along Enelya's spine, feeling her snuggle closer to him. He brushed her hair aside, his fingertips brushing the delicate points of her ears, one of the two reminders of her mixed blood. When they first met, he had wanted to hate her. Now as she lay beside him, he couldn't imagine ever feeling such a negative feeling towards the beautiful woman.
"You promise to return?" he heard her whisper. She moved her head on the pillow, her eyes sleepy and full of love.
"I promise," he whispered back, laying his head beside hers, their noses inches apart.
"I'm scared for you," she continued to whisper. "I'm scared you won't return to me."
Thorin shifted closer, brushing their noses together. He bumped his forehead to hers in affection. "I will return to you," he said. "I will return and bring you to Erebor to be my queen." He moved his head, sealing his lips against hers.
Thorin Oakenshield, the King under the Mountain, slowly opened his eyes. His mind started to clear of the memory, but he still felt his heart ache from it. He pushed himself upright with a groan, the scars on his chest tugging painfully. He remembered all too well how he could have succumbed to the wounds on the battlefield. How close he came to losing his nephews. He looked down, his fingers brushing along the worst of the wounds he had sustained in the fight.
"Thorin?" He lifted his head as his sister, Dís poked her head into his room. Seeing he was decent enough, wearing a pair of sleep pants, the Princess of Erebor carried a tray to her brother's bedside table.
"Why are you doing a servant's work?" Thorin questioned.
"I've done far more intensive things over the years than carry in breakfast to my healing brother," Dís commented as she set the tray down before turning to him. "How did you sleep?"
Thorin grunted slightly as he shifted, reaching for his robe. He sighed as Dís still had to assist him, despite how much better he felt in comparison to after the battle. In a way, he supposed, that was a true testament to how badly he had been injured to have come so far.
It had been almost a month since the Battle of the Five Armies. He had fallen in battle, certain he would return to the Halls of Waiting. He had barely seen when Fíli and Kíli had joined the fight to defend him, discovering afterwards that they had been severely wounded as well. Two unexpected saviors had saved them, the daughter of Bard and the elf-maid, Tauriel. They had also been injured, but not as badly as the three heirs of Durin had.
Thorin had been told that while the battle had been mostly over, a few orcs and goblins had still attempted to take out Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli. While searching for survivors and wounded, Sigrid of Dale and Tauriel had come across the three wounded men. It was no surprise that Tauriel had taken up arms to protect the men, but the surprise had come when Sigrid had picked up a fallen dwarf's axe and wielded it as wildly as she could to help in the defense of Durin's sons.
"Envoys are starting to arrive for your coronation later this week," Dís said, breaking into his thoughts. "Including Lord Elrond from Rivendell." She looked up from pouring some tea into a cup.
"He said he wishes to speak with you privately as soon as you can," she said. "That it was quite important."
Thorin sighed once more, reaching to pick up one of the scones on the tray. "I shall dress then and head down," he said. While he was not fond of most elves, his tolerance level had gotten better, namely because of Enelya if he was truly honest with himself. However, Elrond had endeared himself to Thorin while the Company had been in Rivendell. He had shown them quite a bit of hospitality when he hadn't needed to. Tauriel was another elf that he no longer minded due to all she had done to assist his nephew.
He still despised Thranduil.
"Any idea what he wants?" Dís asked. She did not hold the same animosity for elves as Thorin did, but she was not one to seek them out, except Tauriel. She remembered what Thranduil had done to their people when Smaug had attacked, or rather what he hadn't, but she also knew that there was a time to put the past in the past. She knew that it would prove important to forge a relationship of some sort with the elves and men.
"No," Thorin said. "However, he was quite kind to us when we were there." He felt a ball of anxiety starting to form in his stomach. It left such a knot that he suddenly had no appetite. He did drink part of the tea his sister had poured before turning to gather his clothes. He was avoiding taking someone on as a valet, but he really could use the assistance while still injured. He'd at least handle getting his trousers on before allowing his sister to assist him with his tunic and coat.
"Lord Elrond," Thorin said as he entered the chamber room that he had designated as a meeting room for dignitaries. There were few rooms in the mountain that wouldn't allow for the height of men and elves, but he felt this room most appropriate of all of those to meet with people. It was normally customary to see guests in the Hall of Kings, but since the disaster with attempting to capture Smaug in a lake of gold, Thorin couldn't bring himself to enter the hall until they had finished removing the gold floor. He was informed that dwarves were working diligently to have it done before his coronation.
If not for the amount of people that would be in attendance, Thorin would insist his coronation be held elsewhere. The room was a stark reminder of his failure to kill the dragon and the destruction he brought upon those of Laketown because of the failure. Despite the peace and treaties he now had with Bard, the new King of Dale, he still felt responsible for those who lost their lives because of his own single-minded focus, coupled with ignoring the signs of dragon sickness that had overcome him. It had almost cost him everything.
"Your Majesty?" Elrond broke into his thoughts. "You looked far away."
"My apologies," Thorin said. "My mind does occasionally wander to things I wish I could have done differently."
"Regrets will get you nowhere, King Under the Mountain," the Lord of Rivendell said. "However, I do understand and have been there."
"I was unware that elves held regrets," Thorin said. He offered a small smile to the elf, hoping to ease the sting of his words.
"Not all elves are like Thranduil," Elrond pointed out. "As you well know."
"Though it's refreshing to see that your attitude towards elves hasn't changed that much," a soft, very familiar, feminine voice said.
Thorin turned, his blue eyes wide as he took in the vision he had only just been dreaming of that night. Enelya Ar-Feiniel Reimek was a vision in a regal looking dress that seemed to be a mixture of dwarven and elvish styles. Her dark hair was pulled back in a more elvish style, with a silver circlet over the dark locks. He could remember the feel of the strands flowing over his fingertips when he would brush it. He did see the single braid near her nape and his heart warmed. While not exactly the same braid he had created, it was as close as she could was able to get. The beads he had given her interwoven into the strands.
"Enelya," he murmured. He saw tears form in her eyes. He didn't know who moved first, but he soon found his arms wrapped tightly around his One. Despite his promise, he wondered if he would truly see her again. "Amrâlimê."
"What are you doing with Lord Elrond?" Thorin asked, pulling away from Enelya.
"Orcs attacked the village," Enelya explained, her throat choking on the words. Thorin felt dread filling him. "The elves kept us safe and took us in."
"Marya and Ragna?" Thorin asked. His heart dropped when Enelya shook her head and buried her face in his chest. "Only you survived…"
"Not only her," Elrond said, a mystery air to his word. Thorin turned confused eyes towards the elf.
"Is Dwalin with you?" Enelya asked, pulling back.
"Yes," Thorin said. "He will be…" He didn't want to think how his friend would fare at hearing of Marya's death.
"Thorin," Enelya said. "There are those you two must meet. You, Dwalin, and your kin."
Curiosity was gnawing viciously at Thorin's belly as his nephews, sister, Dwalin, and Balin joined him in the receiving room. Elrond stood near Enelya protectively as the dwarves who did not know her looked at her curiously. Dwalin's eyes lit up in recognition and it made Thorin almost sick, because he knew his friend was about to be heartbroken when he learned of Marya.
"Enelya!" The usually rough dwarf moved over to the lovely woman and hugged her warmly. He pulled back, looking around the room. "Where is Marya?"
Enelya ducked her head, trying to still the tears that wanted to form. She felt Dwalin's hands tighten slightly on her arms. She lifted her head to look at him, a single tear slipping onto her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Dwalin," she whispered.
Dwalin looked stricken, his hands falling from her arms. He shook his head, looking over to Thorin, seeing the truth on his friend's face. He slowly shook his head more. "No," he whispered, looking to his brother with a pained expression. Balin moved over, concern for his brother, catching him as he collapsed with grief. He looked to Thorin with a questioning gaze.
"Marya was his One," Thorin supplied, grief strong in his voice.
"What happened?" Dwalin asked roughly, managing to speak past a sob. Balin helped his brother up and into a nearby chair, Dís moving over to rest a hand against the man's shoulder. She looked to Enelya, feeling an odd protectiveness for her brother and Dwalin suddenly against this woman. She did not understand why, perhaps it was because she was obviously of Elvish blood, but also the sadness she was bringing with her presence.
"The village was attacked by an orc raiding party," she explained. "They were amongst those traveling here…"
Thorin looked at her sharply, guilt slicing through his belly. His love had been in danger because of him, and Dwalin lost his love because of him. All for what? Yes, he had regained the kingdom, but at what cost?
"No," Enelya said firmly, seeing Thorin's grief easily. She walked over and took his hands. "No, amrâlimê, this is not your fault."
"But if I had not…" Thorin started.
"Orcs are becoming more bold, Thorin Oakenshield," Elrond commented. "As you well know from when you met Enelya and Marya." Thorin could not deny the elf's truth. An orc attack that had wounded Enelya is indeed how he and Dwalin had met the two women. And how Thorin had learned that not all members of a single race believed as he did.
"What of Ragna?" Dwalin asked, calming some. He had his elbows resting on his knees, staring at his hands.
"She died defending us so we could escape," Enelya said. She swallowed, feeling Thorin's hands shift to interlock their fingers. She looked at him, taking a deep breath. She turned to Dwalin.
"We were almost to Rivendell when we were ambushed," she said quietly. "Many of our escort were killed in defense. Marya took a morgul blade to her belly…" She took a steadying breath before continuing. "She took a morgul blade defending your son. And mine."
Dwalin's head snapped up to look at her, even as Thorin's hands jerked in Enelya's. "Son?" Dwalin rose quickly.
"Fundin," Enelya said. "She remembered how you felt about your father and wanted to honor your son by naming him after his grandfather." She looked at Thorin. "As did I when I named my son Thráin."
The room erupted in various forms of chatter, Dís being one of the most vocal. Balin held a tight grip on his brother's shoulder as he felt him shake from the news he was being given. It was the Princess of Erebor who demanded silence before looking at Thorin.
"You laid with an elf and claim her as your One?" Her words were harsh, almost vicious. For all of Thorin's words of disgust about elves over the years, she felt betrayed by his apparent hypocrisy. "And apparently have a child with her?"
Thorin had never felt true anger at his sister until now. He turned to speak to her when Enelya spoke. "I am only half-Elf," she said in that soft, calm tone of hers. He could hear a tremor, however, in the face of Dís' anger. "And two children."
"Two?" Thorin asked, looking down at her.
"Twins," Enelya said. "A boy and a girl. I suppose a fluke of my Elvish half."
"And what is the other half?" Fíli asked before his mother could say something angrily. "Even if you are half-human, you seem rather short."
Enelya smiled slightly at Thorin's nephew. "Because I'm not half-human. My mother was a dwarf," she said. "You must be Fíli. Thorin spoke proudly of both you and your brother when we met."
"Wait," Dís said. "Your mother was a dwarf?" Her forehead puckered in confusion.
"Where is my son?!" Dwalin demanded. Patience was not the dwarf's strong suit, and he had been holding back since Dís seemed to demand answers.
"May I suggest the nannies bring the children?" Elrond asks. "Their fathers seem quite anxious. Then I believe it would benefit all to sit and discuss this."
"A fine idea," Balin stepped in, ever the diplomat. "I shall arrange for refreshments as well." He glanced at his brother to make sure he was all right before heading off to do just that. Elrond had also stepped out momentarily to inform the elf nanny that was seeing to the children, leaving Enelya alone with Thorin and his kin. She was keenly aware of Dís studying her. What she couldn't tell is what the other woman was thinking. She wasn't sure what to make of this sister of Thorin's, especially as she saw the elves working outside with many as they still rebuilt from the battle. Plus she had seen the lovely elf maid with the red hair so like Marya's walking through the halls, greeting them pleasantly. Yet Dís seemed to take offense at the idea of Thorin and Enelya.
"Are you all right?" Thorin asked her as he moved closer, blocking her from Dís gaze.
"I do not think your sister likes me," Enelya murmured, looking down at their hands.
"She is merely surprised," Thorin murmured to her, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "How I have missed you."
"As I have missed you," Enelya admitted. "Ragna… she found love for a time before…" She swallowed hard. Thorin remembered the woman in question. Ragna had been of mixed blood, as Enelya was. Only Ragna's dwarven mother had been raped by an orc, resulting in Ragna's birth. While she had favored more of her dwarven mother, there were still some of those orc features that made many cringe away from her even in a village surrounded by those of mixed blood. He remembered how she had watched with longing as Marya, and then Enelya, had found love with the two dwarves that had been with them for a time.
"I am glad," Thorin said. He lifted his head to stare at the door as Elrond and Balin returned, a two elf maids coming in behind them with three children.
He immediately knew who his children were. He was rooted to where he stood as Enelya broke away and walked over to the elves. Instead of reaching for either of their children, she took the robust dwarfling with shocking red hair. If not for how much the young lad looked like Dwalin, he would almost suspect that it was a child from Dáin's side of the family. Balin moved with Enelya as she carried the child to Dwalin.
"Your son," she said, her voice thick. Dwalin stared at the child, watching as he stuck pudgy fingers into his mouth to stare at the dwarf.
"Fundin?" Dwalin asked. Enelya nodded. Dwalin hesitated before reaching to take the boy from Enelya's arms. He was no stranger to holding children, having done so many times when Fíli and Kíli had been young, but it had still be some time. Even when it came to dwarflings, they worried about hurting a child. It didn't matter that Dwalin could feel just how sturdy the child was as he held him, Dwalin was still terrified he would hurt the boy.
Fundin's little fingers immediately moved to the leather straps that crisscrossed over Dwalin's chest that normally held his axes strapped to his back. He studied Dwalin's bearded face before reaching up to grab his nose. He made a rude noise at Dwalin, giving him a grin.
"He's definitely your son," Kíli quipped. It eased the tension in the room, especially as Dwalin grinned widely. Balin moved closer to his brother, smiling warmly as Fundin immediately turned to look at him. Balin looked forward to helping his brother with this lad. He could tell just by looking at the boy that he would be a strong warrior as Dwalin was, but he there was such intelligence in his big brown eyes that Balin knew this boy was sharp as a tack. He'd be a formidable member of the Court. He only wondered if it would be in the Court of Thorin's own half-breed son, or in Fíli's Court when he was king.
Enelya moved back toward the elf that held her children in her arms. She pulled the little girl to her, feeling her daughter curl against her body and rest her head on her shoulder. She was the shyer of the two children. She laughed as Thráin practically jumped out of the nanny's arms to Enelya's. Settling her son on her other hip, she turned to walk over to Thorin. She had never seen something more amazing then the pure awe on Thorin's face as he looked at his children for the first time.
"Your children," Enelya said. "This is Thráin." She bounced the little boy that was the spitting image of Thorin. "And this is Díserin." Dís immediately moved over to her brother. She saw the tears in Thorin's eyes that were forming in her own. This woman, who she had been so angry with, combined her name with Frerin's to create a name for her daughter. Dís' niece. Words she never expected to hear in her mind.
"Thrain, Díserin," Enelya said. "This is your papa." She looked to Dís. "And that is your Aunt Dís."
Thráin looked between Dís and his sister. He pointed to his twin. "Dís," he said with a slight lisp. He gave them a big grin before leaning as far as he could out of Enelya's arms towards Thorin. Acting on instinct, Thorin took the dwarfling into his arms. His chest ached with the emotions rolling through him at the moment. He was holding his heir, the next King under the Mountain. Immediately his eyes found Fíli where he stood with Kíli. He saw tears on his sister-sons' faces, their grins wide. He tilted his head and they immediately hurried over to him.
"Meet your cousins," Thorin said, pride filling his chest. He had never felt such joy than he did at that moment.
This is the idea that started it all for me in writing in the Hobbit. Many of my Figrid stories have taken over my writing time, and will probably continue to do so for awhile. However, I want and need to get this story written.
While much of this will be primarily movie-verse, how Thorin, Kíli, and Fíli almost died in battle follows the book rather than what happened on Ravenhill, particularly for Fíli's sake. There are still elements of how Azog was ultimately defeated and what almost killed Thorin, but the brothers almost died defending their uncle, not separately as was done in the movies.
There will be Figrid and Kiliel in the story, but it will primarily focus on Thorin and his lady love, who is an OC. This will be slower to update than the other stories I am working on, but I need more time to plot things out and get it written as it is coming to me a little slower than some other things.
Rating, some pairings, and warnings may change as the story progresses. Each chapter title will be a word or phrase in Sinhala. The title of this chapter is "Reunion". I have created a "pretty" section divider. This is also in Sinhala and is simply "Erebor".