I do not own any of Tolkiens characters.
The Duredhel are dark elfs, they have chosen to live in the shadows, far from their kin, the Caladhir. Like the dwarves they prefer the darkness of a mountain or a cave over any forest or city under the sun. In their culture women are the superior gender to men. They are fiere and strong warriors and feared in battle. No man, fair elf or dwarf has ever reached a Duredhels womans heart. Only a dwarf prince in exile could awake love and trust in a Duredhels heart, only to destroy their unique bond under the power of the goldsickness. Decades later Thorin Oakenshield has to learn, that a broken heart is the worst enemy one has to fight.
The story starts in Erebor, shortly before the BoFA. A dark elf, Morsha, joined the company of Thorin Oakenshield at Rivendell out of love for the majestic and charismatic dwarf prince. The long and testing journey lets their love grow and Thorin wants to bring her to Erebor as his queen under the mountain. But in Erebor the goldsickness takes over and Thorin destroys all. His love and his future.
'Traitor!' Thorin roared and grabbed his loves collar, dragging her out to the half buried lookout of Erebor. Nearly choking her, he pulled her up only to let her hang over the cliff over rasor sharp rocks. In his rage the dwarf had no problems to hold the struggling woman.
'Thorin...please...' the beautiful woman choked and tried to loosen Thorin callous hands from her throat.
'You betrayed me! You treacherous elf! I should never have trusted you!' Thorin yelled at her, making her flinch. Morsha, the dark elf who was tangling above the depths under Erebors lookout could not believe what the goldsickness had done to the dwarf she loved so dearly. His loving and warm blue eyes had turned into hateful and icy orbs, staring into her black eyes with no mercy.
Thorin had changed since they had arrived in Erebor. The responsible, honorable leader and warm and gentle lover had turned into a greedy and mistrusting madman, spending hours in the treasury, caressing his gold with more lust than he had ever shown towards a woman. The Arkenstone, the heirlome of the house of Durin, had fallen into the halflings hands and Bilbo had decided to deliver it to the men of Dale standing outside of Erebor, asking for help from the madened dwarf king. Now, that he had told Thorin what he had done, the dwarf charged at the loyal hobbit, trying to kill him. Morsha had reacted quickly, leaping between the hobbit and the dwarf king, pulling his hatred towards her. His love for her turned to hatred and now he was about to destroy everything that ever existed between them.
'You filthy whore...I should toss you down onto the rocks!' Thorin growled at her, words that hurt more than his grip on her throat. Morsha started to faint due to the lack of oxigen.
Don't...Thorin, please...don't.' was all she managed to say. Behind Thorin his nephews and Balin rushed over to them and tried to free Morsha from Thorins grasp. With a hoarse cry Thorin threw the slender elven body onto the cold stone of the lookout. Morsha felt a sharp pain as she landed on her front side and gasped for air.
'Thorin, no!' Fili and Kili held their uncles arms as Balin kneeled down beside Morsha to help her up. Thorin struggled in his nephews grasps.
'Leave my sight! I never want to lay eyes on you again! Don't ever come back here again, is that understood?' Thorin growled at Morsha whose tears streamed down her face freely. For their loves sake she swalowed her pride and begged.
'Thorin, you are not yourself, you do not know what you are saying...' she whispered hoarsely.
'You protected a thief, a thief who stole from your king! You are a traitor, elf. Return to the shadows, to your kin, the dark elves banned from the lands of the West.' Thorin spew out his hate. 'Nobody should trust an elf, more than ever a dark elf. I curse the day I met you and even took you into my bed. You whore...now leave my sight!'
Morsha felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. Numbed by her pain she turned her back to him and stumbled towards Dwalin who already had a rope ready to bring her down the lookout safely.
'I am so sorry, lass.' Dwalin mumbled to her war as he tied the rope around her waist. Morsha could not look at him or the other dwarves. She hated that none of them stepped in for her or Bilbo, they all accepted their leaders madness rather than try to cure him from it.
'You can let me down now.' Morsha croaked and looked at Thorin one last time before she swung over the edge. His eyes irradiated nothing but hatred and disgust and his look burned into Morshas memory forever before her vision blurred from her tears. As she reached the ground she started running, running towards the South, away from the cursed mountain, away from her love. As she crossed the hilltop she saw a huge goblin army making way to Erebor. Her first thought was to turn around and warn her love, her friends, her company. But the look in Thorins eyes had erased all good memory of the last months, all the good memory about the company of dwarves who had become a family to Morsha. Clenching her fiste, Morsha continued running South, towards the Harad where her home was. As Morsha had reached the lands of Gondor she felt weak and tired. She had been running for days, maybe weeks, only resting in the woods to sleep and shoot herself a rabbit. The dark elf was a strong and fit warrior and she was used to run long distances. Morsha could not understand why her body felt like jelly all of a sudden. She had felt sick for days now, but she had thought that the loss of her love, Thorin Oakenshield, had caused this feeling. He must be dead by now, Morsha thought. Nobody could have fought this army of goblins and get out of it alive. The dark elfs heart felt no sorrow, no pain about her dead love anymore. Thorins actions had erased all feelings in the dark elfs heart. All Morsha could feel was hatred and bitterness. Hatred towards all male beeings. Males were weak, easily corrupted and egocentric. She would never look upon a male ever again without feeling the hatred for them.
It hit her unprepared and she moved a hand over her belly. She had not been bleeding for months now. Her slender body had become thin and frail in the last days, the running had taken a toll on Morsha. Only her belly had remained the same, Morsha even had the impression that it had grown. The dark elf felt sick as she realised that she had to be pregnant. Pregnant with his child.
Morsha had to get home. Her city lay deep under the border to the Harad lands and the council of seven would know what to do. The council of seven persisted of seven powerful and old elven sorceresses. Their wisdom and their foresight drove the fate of their people. All dark elf queens listened to their advice. Morsha had visited Rivendell because of their order. The council of seven needed to know if the lord of Rivendell, Elrond, would pose a threat to the growing power of the Duredhel. But lord Elrond had no idea of the growing power of the Duredhel kingdoms. His foresight did not seem to reach the lands in the South. By sending Morsha to Rivendell the council of seven had determined her fate. In Rivendell Morsha had met Thorin. A dwarf prince in exile who lead a company of dwarves to Erebor, to reclaim his kingdom and slay the dragon who took it from the dwarves. Morsha felt her heart wrench painfully in her chest as she remembered her first encounter with the one and only man...dwarf who she had ever loved in her 2500 years in Middle Earth.
Morsha had just left the library of Rivendell where she had lend out a book as she ran into someone. She had been too focused on the book and had not payed attention to her surroundings. Scolding herself she looked up - or lets say - down to the dwarf standing in front of her. He had long black hair with grey streaks and deep blue eyes which stared at her warmly.
'Excuse me, my lady.' the dwarf had a deep and incredibly enticing voice. He smirked as he looked at Morsha. 'I am Thorin Oakenshield and you are?'
'Morsha, from the south lands.' Morsha had answered quietly. 'I am sorry, I...'
'You have not seen me?' Thorin grinned at her. 'Because of my size or because you were reading while walking?'
Morsha liked his humor. 'A little bit of both I believe.' she smiled. 'I apologise, master Thorin. I didn't pay attention.'
'No harm was done, my lady.' Thorin assured her and handed her back the book she had been reading. Smiling at her he walked past her and Morsha caught herself following him with her gaze. Shaking her head she made for her own room. She had been in Rivendell for days now. The council of seven had chosen her, because Morsha had a more gentle and kind spirit than most of her kin. Morsha was very skilled in diplomacy and most people trusted her, in spite of all the mistrust the people of Middle Earth felt towards dark elves. Her mission was over, she had learned that lord Elrond knew nothing of the plan od the council of seven. The council planned to regain power and strength and to strike the elves of the North when time was due. Morsha had never understood the hatred the council felt towards the people of Middle Earth, especially the other elf races, but she had no right to speak against the councils will. Morsha did as she was told and her mission had taken less time than she had expected. The council awaited her return in no more than a few months, so she had alot of time to kill. Morsha had decided to wander around the lands of Middle Earth, to see places no dark elf had seen for thousands of years. That day this company of dwarves had arrived at Rivendell. Morsha had no interest in the dwarves, but her encounter with their leader had woken her interest. She wanted to know what the dwarves were doing here, at the realm of elves which they strongly disliked. Morsha felt a strong bond to the dwarves, they lived like her kin, under the earth in the shadows. They lived isolated form the other races in Middle Earth like the dark elves. Morsha closed the drappes before she went to bed, for she did not want to wake up with sunlight on her face. The first days in Rivendell were hard for the dark elf who was used to darkness all day long. But she had become used to it and the nights were wonderful. Morsha decided to take a walk out in the moonlight. She lay the book onto her bed and walked out without taking a coat. She regretted it as she stood at the edge of the city staring down into the dark valley. The wind was cold and uncomfortable and she slung her arms around her body to stay warm. Suddenly a coat was laid around her shoulder. Morsha turned around and looked into Thorins face. Looking down at the coat she recognised his fur lined coat which he had worn at their encounter by the library.
'Thank you, master dwarf.' she said quietly.
'You are welcome, my lady.' Thorin smiled at her. 'The nights are as cold as the days are warm in the elven lands.' he paused and looked at her. 'You are no elf from these lands, you are a dark elf?'
Morsha looked at him in astonishment. 'How do you know?'
'I asked lord Elrond.' Thorin smirked and folded his arms in front of his chest. Morsha could tell that he was cold, now that he had given her his coat. 'I have heard many stories about your kin. But I doubt that they are true.'
'What have you heard, master dwarf?' Morsha asked. She felt comfortable in his presence.
'In your culture the females rule over the males. Dark elves are such fierce warriors that even the Valar fear their power should they awaken in new found glory. Their leaders are powerful sorceresses. They live in the dark, under the earth or under mountains, like we do.' Thorin watched Morsha closely as he listed up what he knew of the dark elven culture.
Morsha nodded. 'What you heard is true, master dwarf.' as she saw him cock his eyebrow she smiled. 'Does that shock you?'
'A whole culture led by women.' Thorin mused. 'I do not think I could live with that.'
"Why is that? Would you never bow your head before a woman?' Morsha asked him, although she liked his honesty.
'Not before any woman.' Thorin smirked. 'I respect women and hold them in high honor. But I would only bow to my queen.'
His voice send shivers down Morshas spine. 'Your queen?'
'I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King under the mountain of Erebor.' Thorin told her with pride.
'A king?' Morsha could tell that Thorin was of royal blood, for his bearing was proud and confident. 'Wasn't Erebor taken by a dragon?' she stopped midsentence as she saw Thorins face sadden. 'I am sorry.'
'No, do not apologise.' Thorin moved closer to Morsha. 'My home was taken by a dragon. I my loyal dwarves and I are on our way to reclaim it.'
'How can you defeat the dragon? Even your whole city defenses could not prevent him from taking your mountain. And now your are a mere handful.' Morsha jumped as Thorin answered passionately.
'We may be few in numbers. But we are warriors, my dwarves are loyal, honorable and have a willing heart. Thats all what counts to me.' Thorin grumbled.
That was the moment when Morsha fell in love with Thorin Oakenshield, exiled king under the mountain.