Disclaimer: The Hobbit does not belong to me, but to Professor Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and his Company.

Summary: Thorin is reunited with the love of his youth who left him before the fall of Erebor. This is the sequel to "The Treasure of Dale" and begins at Fili's and Sigrid's wedding reception. This can also be read as a stand-alone fic. Thorin/OC

Gem of His Heart

Prologue

Drifa, lady's maid to Nal, the wife of Dain Ironfoot, rose from her mending as someone knocked on the door of her lady's suite. She answered it, leaving the queen reading before the fire. The messenger of the king stood before her.

"What is it, Alvir?" she murmured to the short, stocky, dark-haired male with a bulbous nose and crooked teeth. He had the audacity to wink at her. Alvir had flirted with her for years and had never been very subtle. Drifa ignored his silliness and gave him a pointed glare.

"His majesty asks that you prepare the queen's belongings at once. There is to be a royal wedding in Erebor and the king and queen have been invited to attend." Alvir stood straight and proud as Dain's wife called from her place before the fire.

"Alvir, please come tell me more at once!" she commanded as she rose to her feet with excitement. Her brown eyes sparkled and she clasped her hands together. "Tell me, is it Thorin Oakenshield? Has he found a bride after all this time?"

Drifa felt her stomach lurch at the very thought. She forced herself to close the door as she sucked in a deep breath and fought to keep her composure.

"No, m' lady, tis not Thorin Oakenshield, but his nephew Prince Fili. He's marryin' a lass from the race of Man a month from now."

Nal smiled and nodded at Alvir in dismissal before turning to her maid. "Oh, Drifa, how exciting! A royal wedding! We must decide which of my gowns to pack. Quickly now! There is much to do before we depart for Erebor."

Drifa nodded although her thoughts were whirling. How could she return to Erebor and face Thorin, her One who'd had her sent away from Erebor?

"Drifa, are you all right?" Nal asked in concern when the woman did not follow her to her dressing room.

"Aye, M' lady, I am sorry. I was thinking of all that must be accomplished to prepare for the journey." Drifa forced herself to follow the queen to the small dressing room off of the suite that contained a large variety of colorful gowns.

Nal chatted and handed her gown after gown to hang aside for consideration. Drifa nodded from time to time, but allowed her thoughts to wander. Perhaps she could pretend to be ill, and then Nal would have to choose another maid to accompany her to Erebor. Although, Drifa reassured herself, there was a high probability she would not come face to face with Thorin Oakenshield. As Nal's lady's maid, she would spend most of her time in her queen's chambers preparing clothing to be worn throughout the visit. Maybe everything would work out just fine, she would not have to see the King Under the Mountain, and Drifa could return to her day-to-day life where she blocked out all thoughts of Thorin.

With trembling hands, she brushed the wrinkles from a rose colored gown and fingered a small tear in the lace on the sleeve. She would see to it that the gown was mended before they embarked on their journey.

"Drifa, are you unwell?" Nal asked softly as she noticed her maid's trembling. Nal was a kind queen and Drifa had served her for many years.

"I fear I need to lie down, M' lady," Drifa admitted, longing for some time alone. Her mind whirled with thoughts of Thorin and Erebor, making her feel a bit dizzy.

"Go to your quarters and rest, Drifa. Shall I send for a healer?" Nal asked as her face creased with concern.

"No, M' lady. I just need to lie down a bit." Drifa suddenly felt as if she might be sick to her stomach and swallowed hard.

"Very well, then," Nal replied. "Have one of the other servants help me pack."

"Yes, M' lady," Drifa told her as she bowed quickly and left the dressing room. She cornered a servant in the hallway and soon had someone on the way to help the queen pack for the journey. Drifa hurried down the hall to her small quarters which were just next door to the queen's luxurious suite.

She stumbled inside and shut the door, sliding to the floor and leaning back against the door's hard oak surface. Drifa drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Resting her chin on her knees she stared into the inky darkness of her small chamber. Thorin. She was going back to Erebor, back to Thorin's kingdom. Her heart ached at just the mention of the dwarf king's name.

Thorin. She had loved him once. She loved him still. He was her One. Drifa wondered if he still remembered her and t heir stolen moments together. A harsh sigh escaped her lips as she allowed her thoughts to drift into the painful past.

Drifa curled against Thorn's hard, bare chest and treasured the way his warmth seeped into her naked body. His hand stroked the soft skin of her back gently and he turned his head to press a kiss to her brow.

"You are more beautiful than all of the gems in Erebor," Thorin told her, his voice husky with emotion.

Drifa pushed herself up on an elbow. "Even more beautiful than the Arkenstone?" she asked with a smirk.

"Aye, lass," Thorin informed her as he lifted his hand to tangle his fingers in her long, silky, blonde tresses. "The Arkenstone pales in comparison to your beauty, my love."

Drifa felt a blush warm her cheeks. "Thorin, please, stop teasing."

"I am not teasing, Drifa," the young dwarf prince assured her as he drew her back down into the circle of his arms. His lips found hers and what began as a soft tender kiss became one of passion and desire.

Drifa snapped back to the present as the cold of the stone beneath her began to seep through her clothes. It was not long after that night with Thorin that Thror and Thrain had sent for her. Thorin had decided that he wanted only a dwarrowdam of high society, one who befitted his station in life. He no longer wanted to even look at her. She was to be sent away immediately. She had not believed it at first, but then she was shown the beautiful lady of high society who had just arrived in the courtyard. That had caused a wrenching pain in her heart. She had packed her few belongings quickly and had taken the horse the king offered her along with his suggestion that she go to the Iron Hills.

Drifa leaned her head back against the wooden door with a thud. How could Thorin have led her on that way? How could she have allowed him to use her to get what he wanted, to bed her?

Her hand drifted down to cover her empty womb. And then there had been the child. Drifa had not known she carried her lover's babe when she left Erebor in the dead of winter. The journey to the Iron Hills had been long and cold. Food was scarce and travel difficult. One morning the bleeding had started. Drifa had assumed it was her monthly, only it did not feel as it usually did. She became so weak from blood loss that she could not stand.

Finally, a healer was summoned by a fellow traveler and that was when Drifa had learned that she had lost the babe she carried. Thorin's babe. She had never felt so empty inside as she had at that moment.

Shoving thoughts of the past away angrily, Drifa brushed a stray tear from her cheek and pushed to her feet. She had mourned Thorin Oakenshield for years. Well, no more. She would go to Erebor with her Lady and she would face the dwarf king head on should she meet him face to face.

Chapter 1

Thorin, King Under the Mountain, took another long swig of his ale and watched as his heir danced with his new wife across the grand expanse of Erebor's royal ballroom. Fili's blue eyes were shining with happiness as he and Sigrid danced to a lively tune Bofur was producing on his flute. The toymaker was accompanied by many other musicians as well, all eager to celebrate a royal marriage.

A sigh escaped the dwarf king's lips as his other nephew danced by with his elf-bride in his arms. Kili's laughter floated to him above the noise of the music and the cacophony of voices that filled the room. His nephews were happy and in love; Thorin wished their mother was here to see them. He ached for his sister in happy moments like these. She had witnessed too many of the sad times and not enough of the happy.

The song ended while Thorin was woolgathering, and he started as Fili brushed against him as he led Sigrid to their seats. Glancing up, the dwarf king found his eldest sister-son looking down at him with concern.

"Are you all right, Uncle?" Fili asked as his brow puckered into a frown.

"Aye," Thorin nodded, forcing a smile. "I am fine. I was just thinking that your mother would have been beside herself to think that her son was married."

A sad smile touched Fili's lips. "Yes, I do believe you are right," he answered quietly. "She would have loved you, Sigrid," the dwarf prince informed his new wife, stroking her cheek lovingly.

Sigrid leaned into his touch. "I do wish I could have come to know her," she told him.

The newlyweds were soon absorbed in one another leaving Thorin to his own thoughts once again. There should have been another royal wedding here in Erebor a long time ago, he thought bitterly. As was happening more and more often these days, thoughts of Drifa assaulted him. Her hair was long, pale blonde, and as smooth as silk when he ran his fingers through it. Her eyes shone like the green emeralds mined from the heart of the mountain. Her laugh was light and silvery and sent little shivers down his spine.

Thorin had been besotted from the moment he'd first met the shy dwarrowdam. The party roared around him as he allowed himself to remember.

The day was hot outside of the confines of the mountain. Prince Thorin, heir to the throne of Erebor, decided that he'd earned a bit of freedom after the stuffy council meeting that had lasted all morning and into the afternoon. Making sure that his father and grandfather were unaware of his intentions, he slipped outside into the golden sunlight intent on taking a swim in the nearby lake.

The afternoon heat was nearly stifling. When the lake came into view, Thorin immediately shucked his tunic over his head and tossed it into a bush on the shore. He stood on the edge of the lake and looked out over its rippling blueness and placed his hands on his hips. A grin quirked his lips at the thought of the delightful afternoon ahead. A swim was going to feel so good. Without realizing it, his foot shifted close to the edge and one leg plunged into the cool lake water. Caught off balance, Thorin's arms pin-wheeled around him and he plunged into the lake. The dwarf prince rose to the surface coughing and sputtering. He shoved his dark hair out of his face and frowned as the sound of laughter reached his ears.

Turning, Thorin caught sight of a blonde dwarrowdam standing on the bank with a basket full of berries in her arms. He shaded his eyes against the sun and stared up into the face of a young woman with emerald green eyes and rosy cheeks. Her hair was such a pale blonde that it nearly had a silvery tint to it. Thorin waded to the shore and knew the exact moment the young woman realized who he was. Her mouth fell open and she nearly dropped her basket of berries.

Quickly, she bowed before her prince. "I am sorry, Your Majesty," she breathed quietly. "I should not have laughed. I did not realize it was you."

Thorin climbed up onto the shore and reached to squeeze the water out of his long hair. "I imagine I looked a bit silly," he told her, intrigued by the suddenly shy young woman before him.

Slowly, those emerald eyes rose to meet his gaze. A blush stained her cheeks and she tipped her head to the side as she studied him cautiously.

Thorin suddenly was painfully aware of his bare chest. He snatched his tunic off of the bush where it hung haphazardly and slipped it on. The fabric clung to his wet body, but at least he did not feel quite as self-conscious now.

"Are you injured?" she asked softly as her green eyes traveled the length of his body.

"No, I am fine," Thorin assured her although his face felt aflame at her perusal. "You seem to know who I am, but I do not believe we have met before."

Her cheeks flushed an even darker. "I am only a servant in your grandfather's court, Your Majesty. My name is of no consequence. If you will excuse me, I must return these berries to the cook so she can make dessert for this evening's meal." The young lass woman once more before Thorin. "I apologize again, Your Majesty." She turned and scurried down the path.

"Wait," Thorin called, hurrying after her and catching her arm in a gentle grasp.

The dwarrowdam turned to regard him with a wide-eyed look. The poor lass nearly looked frightened to be in the presence of a prince.

"Please, I'd like to know your name," Thorin told her, finding it difficult to form words when he looked into those green eyes.

"Drifa," she said shyly, her cheeks flushing once again.

"Drifa," Thorin smiled, "it was a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she bowed, "but now I must return to the mountain." The young blonde hurried away with her basket of berries clutched against her chest.

Thorin stared after her, mesmerized by the kind lilt to her voice and the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away down the path.

Pulling himself back to the present, Thorin found his sister-son sitting beside him with Sigrid in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched the dwarves and other guests become rowdier from drinking too much ale. Fili laughed at something Sigrid said before kissing her soundly on the lips.

Thorin suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He stood and stretched, slipping away as Fili was occupied with his new bride. He edged around the crowd until he found Dwalin. His friend handed him a mug of ale.

"This is quite the celebration," Dwalin chuckled as he watched Thorin down the ale in only a few gulps.

"Aye," the dwarf king answered absently.

"What is it?" the tattooed warrior asked his friend, his brow creasing in concern.

Thorin shook his head. "It is nothing, only old memories," he sighed.

"You are thinking about her, aren't you?" Dwalin asked as Thorin whipped his head around to look at his friend.

"How did you know?"

"You looked sad," Dwalin admitted.

"Aye," Thorin murmured, "but the past is the past and there is nothing I can do to change it." He placed his empty mug on a nearby table. "She chose to leave Erebor; she did not want to face the fury of my father and grandfather, I suppose. I need some air. I will return in a bit."

Dwalin watched as his friend and king walked abruptly away.

"Where is Thorin going?" Balin asked as he joined his brother.

"To be alone with his memories," Dwalin sighed, taking another gulp of his ale before his gaze followed Thorin out of the ballroom.

To Be Continued…