Author's Note: A one-shot that coincides with chapter fourteen of my "Heroes" fic, but it can be enjoyed separately if you like the idea of Galadriel heckling Thorin :)
Disclaimer: I do not own. Everything belongs to Tolkien and Peter Jackson.
One moment, the She-Elf's eyes had been seized on Rue, the next they were on his.
You have something you truly want already bestowed upon you.
Thorin couldn't help it, traitorous thoughts following instinctually: What do you speak of?
You know what I speak of, Thorin Oakenshield. Galadriel smirked at him. Thorin wanted to rip that smirk off her face with his bare hands. What was so funny? There was nothing funny about this.
Rue had been told she could not return home. He imagined the feeling, knew the feeling all too well. Every night he shut his eyes, he saw the smoke cogging the sky, the trees like torches aflame…The Dragon. He jolted, shaking his head. No. He would not think of such things.
Leave my head, you witch, he hissed, huffing and puffing indignantly.
A witch? That I am, Thorin Oakenshield. But deeming me such things I am will not stop the stirrings inside your heart, the longing you have for someone to share this wretched life with. Galadriel's voice was hollow, her bewitching gaze strangling his. Do you know what I speak of now?
Thorin stood taller, his fists clenched, heart skipping a beat. I do not.
You lie, she nearly spat.
I―
Do not lie again. You wish to love, to be loved.
Thorin refused to blink, holding her stare, swallowing hard. What ridiculous presumptions.
You have been endowed with such a gift. Dwarves hold their hearts to such high value or do they not? They have their ones. They search for lifetimes, some never knowing the feeling, never knowing what it is to be loved or to love. But you have been endowed, Thorin Oakenshield.
Endowed how? Thorin snapped. I have nothing.
His chest was rising and falling as he breathed fire. He had nothing. And this ingrate Elf-witch had forced him into admitting it.
She slowly nodded, mouth parting. Look left.
Thorin did.
Rue stood there, watching him with owlish eyes, holding her goose bump riddled forearms. She was afraid. Terrified. But of what? He did not know.
You have frightened her.
I have frightened her? Is it not that she worries over you, Thorin Oakenshield?
It is not.
But it is. She thinks fondly of you. Galadriel smiled.
Thorin leered. She thinks fondly of everyone and everything. He could never imagine a hateful bone in her body. But he was feeling disdain for the Elf, for telling him of ugly lies, for trying to paint an untrue picture of Rue caring for him more than others. It was nonsensical. A cruel joke.
It is not a joke, she interjected.
Stay out of my head, Thorin growled.
Your thoughts are loud, are entirely seeking some truth in what I speak. Do not deny, Thorin son of Thrain.
I am not denying anything, he spat.
Suddenly, beads of sweat were trickling down Thorin's forehead, getting mixed in the thickness that was his beard. But he refused, refused to flinch away from the Elf-witch's almighty gaze. Her eyes were as hard as diamonds, as tough as iron crafted at the hands of Dwarves. How could an Elf-witch have such power in her…eyes? It could not be true. He refused to believe―to believe her filthy words.
If you do not believe what I speak of, then perhaps I shall show you, Galadriel spoke numinously.
Thorin only had three seconds to prepare before―
A world of hurt racked his head. Color. Behind his eyes that was all he could see. He was sitting on the throne in Erebor, king. No Dragon. No Smaug. It felt as though the wind had been kicked from him. There were happenings of…what could be. Thorin had heard of Elves using such magic, but he thought…
He saw himself sitting triumphant, Dain bowing at his feet. Thorin ignored the temptation to smirk in satisfaction. Kili, Fili, Dwalin, and Balin were by his side, Kili and Fili clad in blue―the colors of true Durin's line.
That was not all who stood by his side.
Rue. She was there, sitting in her own throne…grinning, standing up to bow to Dain. He seethed. No. She should not be bowing in her own kingdom. He was thunderstruck. The realization hit him like lightning. Rue was the…queen, which meant…
Dain left his sight, an endless army of Dwarves marching behind him.
And then―
Thorin reached for Rue's hand, interlacing their fingers, bringing her hand to his lips. He planted a feather-light kiss, speaking for only her ears. The happening began to turn blurry, the words becoming lost. But Thorin knew what he would have said to her, "Do not bow to him. He bows to us."
A different happening formed in front of his eyes. He blinked, stunned at the sight. Rue and he were inside the King Under the Mountain's chambers―his chambers. They were pressed together, hugging, hands clenched in each other's hair. Thorin pressed her against the wall, kissing her. She returned his kisses. Between kisses, she smiled, and spoke breathily, "I love you, Thorin."
He was frozen―limbs ethereal and leaden. Thorin's heart beat like an anvil being struck by a hammer casting weapons. Blinking, he attempted to hear the words again, to hear what must have been a mistake. She would never―Thorin went to shake his head, but did not in defiance of the Elf-witch― say such things to him. For a woman to love him was―
But what he said next left Thorin wheezing for air.
"I love you, too." Somehow, he drew Rue even closer, her bosom pushed against his chest. "Come here."
He had never seen himself so bare, so happy. Thorin kissed Rue, nuzzling her neck, giving lingering kisses to her jawline, to her throat. She moaned. Thorin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Just watching himself kiss her was madly blissful. He wished he could really feel it, truly feel her lips against his. No. To think such disgusting things was dishonorable. Thorin could not. He would not.
The last words he heard were: "You are mine. All mine, Azyungal. My queen." He stole another kiss. "So beautiful."
The world behind his eyes changed yet again.
This time what he saw―
They lay in bed together. Rue's back was pressed against his chest. He held her close to his chest, staring at her…pensively. Thorin had never seen himself appear so wistful. This Thorin seemed to pine for her, longed to feel her against his flesh. This Thorin had―he swallowed hard―found his one. It could not be. It was ridiculous. An Elf-witch's magic. Nothing more.
He peered closer, seeing for the first time―
The swell of Rue's belly. He caressed her belly longingly.
Rue was…with Dwarfling.
He blinked.
The happenings faded away. All he saw were blue eyes. Thorin refused to―he could not keep gazing. He flinched away from her eyes, feeling weak, humiliated.
Rue stood a little ways behind him. All he could still see were the bizarre happenings behind his eyes.
The swell of Rue's belly.
No.
He clenched his fists, trembling in rage.
Whirling around, Thorin fled down the staircase. Like a coward.
Mahal would be proud.
Author's Note: I finally finished this one-shot! So what do you think, guys? I want to make this clear: what Thorin did see might not come true…so…everything he saw could happen, but probably will not. Sorry for being a tease. Make sure to follow my Tumblr to keep up with any "Heroes" news or just to keep up with me if you want to ;) Good news about this break is that I've gotten a lot of writing done! I'm almost done with chapter twenty-three. I hope you review and I hope you enjoyed the one-shot. I know it was a long wait for this. Shame on me, peeps.