Misty Mountains (A Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

*Please Note*

I wrote this last year and it's unedited and so cheesy!! I'm really sorry lol okay read now.

Part One

Tending to his wounds like every day, my father fidgets with my mother's locket. It's been almost sixty years since the day. Father's burns never healed and they needed to be cleaned continuously. I would wipe his arms with the healing remedies mother taught me, wrap them back up with clean cloth and hope for the best.

"Laelia, my birthday is tomorrow," Father said with a thin voice, "Mahal, I'm old. Stop cleaning the burns, dear, just let me die." He pulls down the sleeve of his tunic when I'm finished wrapping them.

My eyebrows narrow as I sit next to him at our small table. I fingered the metal beads Thorin gave me years ago. "Don't talk like that, Father, unless you want me to be alone for the rest of my life." It would be a boring life, too. I've been making bead jewelry to get us food and paying the rent. Living in the Blue Mountains is very nice compared to wandering around, staying at Inn's and working to barely get by. Thorin doesn't speak to me anymore; I suppose Fíli and Kíli told him about my mother. I don't see them either. It would be a lonely life.

"Laelia," my father said softly, "You are of age. You have been for over thirty years. You're almost eighty-seven, and you're still so young. Get married, pop out a few bearded boys. Be happy with someone; stop worrying about me." His frail hand was on mine.

I opened my mouth to protest, but there was a knock at the door. Father started to move, but I pushed him back down. I walked through the house to the door. Fixing my hair as best as I could, I took a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I look so thin. Shrugging, I open the door.

Thorin. He stood in front of me, his long hair tussled and his lips producing a smirk as if it never left his lips sixty years ago. Dammit, I missed him. I felt the overwhelming urge to hug him, but he'd probably push me away, just like he pushes everyone away. His beard was still short, in honor of those who perished in Erebor. Oh, Mahal, his lips were red and plump, just like they were the day I slipped into his room. He noticed my staring again. "I see you still haven't grown a beard, Laelia, or any taller."

Irritated and almost offended, I shot back, "I don't grow beards, as you should know I don't like them on women, and I am now four foot ten, an inch taller than the last we met." He chuckles at my agitated tone and sets down his axe. "Is there something you needed?" I pushed one of my braids behind my ear, the bead clinking against the gems on my too-big dress.

Thorin squinted, "Why are you so small?" I rolled my eyes. He realized what he said and then added, "No, I meant, why have you lost so much weight?"

I didn't answer. I crossed my arms over my torso, embarrassed. "I haven't seen you in a while. I'm sorry about your father and grandfather." I whispered.

He shrugged. I noticed his muscles were much bigger and the look in his eyes told me he was more guarded, that he wasn't about to show me emotion. "I'm sorry about your mother." I shrugged as well. He gave me a small smile and said, "I wish to see your father."

I nodded and let him in. Pulling off his vest and taking his sword, I led him through the small cottage, to the kitchen. Father looked up from his book. "Well, if it isn't Thorin Oakenshield!" He stood, leaning on his cane and my arm and took Thorin into a hug. I wish I could do that. For a brief moment, I envied my father. "What can I do for you, my young lad?"

Thorin stepped back, "I'm sorry to bother you, Evin, but I need you." They sat in deep conversation while I got them both an ale. "We are going on a quest, thirteen of us, as well as you, a wizard and we are in the process of finding a burglar. You have been very close to my family and I would like you to go." A quest? But Father is old, and he needs to be taken care of. He can't go on a quest!