The dwarf made his way through the streets of Hobbiton, his heavy footfalls sounding as he walked. The night sky was navy blue above, stars winking like precious gems. Like the precious gems of Erebor.
Even the thought of his homeland caused slight pain in his chest, the terrible memories that haunted his dreams... Fire... screams... roaring... his people slain like lambs in a field.
He quickly suppressed the memory, down to the dark recesses of his consciousness. But it did naught to ease the emotional pain he felt at the demise of his kin. They had been his family, his comrades, his friends... and something more.
He shoved the reappearing memory to the back of his mind with urgency this time. Trying as usual to ignore the churning in his gut that reappeared, along with the nightmare-inducing memories. He tried not to dwell upon such things frequently, but at times he could not help it. The memories haunted his dreams, his waking hours. They were on the tip of his tongue when he spoke, and always in the back of his thoughts. But why, why was one facet in particular bothering him now, of all times, when he had tried so hard to forget?
"Because you're going back," a small voice in his head whispered "You're going to the Mountain take back."
But at what cost?
Shifting his pack on his shoulder, he noticed he had reached the right address. Third time lucky, he supposed, as he had gotten lost twice before on his way. Thorin's battle skills and strategy could not be faulted, but he had next to no sense of direction.
The silver mark on the door glittered in the moonlight, and sounds of merriment could be heard inside. Thorin squared his shoulders, held his head high, and knocked on the door.
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You lost sight of him when he stepped inside, surrounded by his companions. The wizard had looked in your direction, strangely enough, despite the fact you were well concealed in the mulberry bushes across the road from the marked door. You clutch at the talisman around your neck, praying for luck on your seemingly impossible venture.
Despite this, it seemed that Thorin Oakenshield had not yet noticed someone was tailing him. And you intended to keep it that way.
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"Into Your Arms" - A Thorin Oakenshield Fanfic
Fanfic●Completed● Thorin Oakenshield, the surviving heir to the Lonely Mountain, has resigned himself to a life of solitude, with his sister, nephews and friends his only light. When an opportunity to take back his home arises, he jumps at the chance. B...
