The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Release the flames

A.N: Just a little note in 2016, I am taking off the let it go parody of this chapter, the scene itself stays the same, I just retread it and wasn't particularly happy with it, so I'm sorry, but it is still frozen themed with the scene anyway, so I hope no one's too annoyed!

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Thorin watched her go, feeling the sting of betrayal deep in his heart. A dragon. He had kissed a dragon. He had allowed himself to be...taken in by that...that monster! But she's not really a monster, is she? Said a snide voice in his mind. That's not really what you thought of her when you kissed her, was it, Thorin? He shook his head, unwilling to listen. She was Smaug's spawn? The dragon's daughter? That hurt more than her lying about being a dragon. Running his hands through his long hair, Thorin also turned and left, moving to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, and buried his face in his hands. His heart told him to forgive, his head told him to forget. Which did he listen to? The rational side of his mind told him that dragons were dangerous, that she was using him to take him to her father, but his memories spoke differently.
"I would rather not see the creature that tried to kill me."
"There is no love between myself and my father."
What was he to trust? Memories or mind? A sudden pain in his chest made him grunt. A heat seemed to be firing into him at rapid speed. In a panic, he unbuckled his armour and gauntlets, throwing them on the ground. Looking into the nearby mirror, he gaped in shock. A strange mark had formed on his chest, directly over his heart. The shape of a blazing red heart, though it seemed to be ripped in two. Another wave of pain assaulted him, and he collapsed onto the bed. Tears even started to drip from his eyes and he had to bite hard into the bedsheets to keep from yelling in agony. A sudden knock at the door sounded, and Dwalin's voice came from the other side.
"Thorin, come out of there! We need to talk to you!"
Thorin tried to speak, but he could only cry out as another wave of pain hit him square in the heart. The door burst open, and there stood his nephews and friends, eyes stretched wide in horror.
"Uncle!" Kili screeched, rushing to his side. The next thing Thorin knew, he was being lifted onto his bed and Oin was peering into his eyes.
"It can't be..." He whispered in shock as he spotted the mark on Thorin's chest.
"The dragon?" That was Nori.
"Clarrei..." Thorin whispered. "Her name is Clarrei..."

When Thorin next awoke, the Company were all peering down at him in concern. As he moaned and sat up, he was suddenly embraced by a sobbing Fili and Kili.
"We thought we'd lost you!" Unbelievably that was Fili. His eldest nephew never cried. Thorin coughed and gently pushed the boys off of him.
"Easy lads," he murmured. "let me breathe for a split second."
His dry humour only received a chuckle from Dwalin. The rest of the dwarves were somber-faced.
"Thorin, do you remember why you passed out?" Balin asked. Thorin furrowed his brow, before he remembered the pain. He looked at his chest, the mark was still there. But it was only dully throbbing now, not feeling like a thousand swords were stabbing him.
"It's the Bond." Bofur whispered in awe.
"Aye." Said Gloin, "And I never thought I'd see the day when you had it, Thorin." He said, a halfhearted attempt at a joke. Thorin just sat in astonishment. The Bond? Then who was his One? The person he was bound to? All dwarves had the mark, but it only changed colour when they met their One, and it usually matched the soul of their significant other. So...his was red...it must mean...
"Clarrei?" He whispered. "No, it can't be. She's a dragon, and Smaug's spawn no less!"
Balin sighed and put his head in his hands.
"Thorin, has Clarrei ever showed any signs of wanting to cause us harm? Has she showed any affection towards her father in any way?"
Thorin said nothing. He didn't want to admit the old dwarf was right.
"Now, she's taking this worse than you, just take a look outside."
Slowly, Thorin moved to the great glass doors that opened onto a balcony. And he was shocked by what he saw. A gazebo sat not far off, and a blazing rush of fire was exploding from inside.

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Clarrei finally stopped sobbing. She dried the flaming tears from her eyes, taking deep breaths. She felt as if she was breaking in half from the pain in her heart. It hurt her, it physically hurt her to have Thorin treat her like a stranger. She looked at the flames that had surrounded her in her sadness, and with a snap of her fingers, they extinguished. She got to her feet, shakily, and walked to one of the railings of the gazebo, leaning her hands on the cool marble. She could feel herself trembling, from anger or sadness she didn't know. She didn't know what was happening to her. Ever since she had come on this quest, her powers had seemed more out of control, more unpredictable. With a realisation, she stared at her hands. She knew why she had fainted. Her body was no longer used to her powers. When was the last time she had used them for a bit of fun? It had to have been years now, before she began exploring Middle-Earth. A small smile crept its' way onto her lips. Why not have some fun, then? She certainly needed to blow off steam, and if the Dwarves and Elves thought it dangerous then so be it. She was a monster, through and through. Turning on her heel, she began to pace the circular floor.
Throwing her hands in the air, she let flowers of flame spring from her palms. And with a flurry of sparks, a whole storm of animals formed from Clarrei's palms. Birds cried out in song and nestled in the rafters, fiery feathers gleaming in the gloom. Great blazing cats sprang around her feet, and a beautiful flaming dragon soared through the air. Spinning, Clarrei laughed, feeling the ever-present knot in her stomach finally releasing as she flexed her powers. Slamming her foot to the floor, molten gold seemed to spill out across the ground, filling every corner of the gazebo. Raising her hands, Clarrei made the columns decorate with flaming, bright patterns.
And with that, Clarrei allowed the flames to weave their way into her long hair, turning the curls into staight sheets of flame. Now she allowed the flames to soar up her violet skirts, turning them flaming red. The sparks coated her sleeves, forming glittering material that shone like the morning sun. Even her shoes were changed to red, flame-designed heels. Finally, a cloak of flame formed behind her, attached to the dress under her arms.
With a laugh, Clarrei spun in her new dress, revelling in the light feeling of the material. It had a slit in the skirt, revealing her milky calf, but it felt more...free. She had never known what she was truly capable of. With a smile, she turned to look to the main part of Rivendell. She had cried long enough.

A.N: again, I want to say thank you to all who have read this story so far, you are all amazing! The dress shown btw is Clarrei's dress, just imagine Elsa with Clarrei's hair. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to @ChocoVanLate , who is an avid reader of the story and who has dedicated her new story to me, and I just want to say I am really honoured that you think I'm worth that. :-) thanks for reading guys, next chapter should be up in a week or so, as my exams are this week, save me!!!