Greetings to everyone who has decided to give this story a try! :)
I'm new to this site as a writer, but I've spent many hours reading the amazing stuff that can be found here. And lately my attention has been directed towards The Hobbit, especially the Thorin/Bilbo part of it. I've read everything I could find on these two and still my appetite seems to be unsated, so I decided to give it a try myself :) I've never written slash before (haven't written much of anything, actually), but I simply cpuldn't get the idea of them out of my mind. I'm not that familiar with Tolkien's books, so probably there will be many mistakes and wrong facts on my part here, so I apologize in advance. Also English is not my first language, so I hope your eyes won't hurt after reading :D
So yeah, there is much more I'd like to say, but I doubt you came here to read my babbling, so I'm gonna continue with the actual story. This was originally intended as a one-shot, but I guess I couldn't stop myself from rambling. Therefore-this is the first chapter with more to come!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I simply use the characters to act out my imagination :)
Hope you enjoy!
I
He had never felt alone. He had never felt the need of being close to someone. Since he could remember himself, Thorin Oakenshield always had been just fine being on his own. When he was just a dwarfling, his status of a prince somehow made it hard for him to keep friends. He was royalty, and therefore had standarts to uphold. It was expected of him to behave like the future king should, being polite and graceful with his subjects, but never letting them too close. He would gladly involve himself in games and plays, yet he never felt bad about having to step away whenever he felt that it had been enough. The young prince of Erebor was known to be keeping himself busy learning the ways of a king, training to be a warrior or educating himself on the matters of mining and processing of precious metals, yet no one ever seemed to know his whereabouts. There had not been a single corner in Erebor that Thorin had not explored and gotten himself familiar with, but he somehow managed to do that without bothering anyone or even getting noticed.
When his brother and sister arrived, he had been genuinely happy, feeling proud and protective of his younger siblings. And while he was happy to play with them, to be included in their raising, he still felt the responsibility of being the heir to the throne, and therefore had to distance himself from the youngest members of his family. The little ones loved their older brother, but they prefered each others cheerful presence to that serious and somehow distant one of Thorin. And he never felt sad or lonely, since the enormosity of Erebor and richness of his own mind seemed just enough for him.
When Erebor fell, Thorin knew the responsibility was his to ensure the safety and comfort of his kin. He knew it was up to him to find them a home, a way to make a living. It was up to him to provide his sister with proper care and protection, once he was the only male left in her family. And he had done all that with ferocity of a fighter and stubborness of a dwarf. He gladly went through fire and water, if it meant well-being of his people.
He had learned early on that being a leader meant being alone, so now it was nothing new or upsetting to him. Thorin involved himself in life of his sister and nephews, but it never even crossed his mind to involve himself that closely with someone else. Dis was family, so were Fili and Kili, and he was responsible for them. He never felt the neccessity of having a consort, it didn't seem to matter since he already had heirs to the throne in the face of his nephews. So he led his life alone, being one on one with his thoughts and decisions, not feeling the urge to share his burden with someone else. Thorin was satisfied when left alone, and everybody around him knew the prince well enough not to get in his way.
Thorin knew that his way of keeping his distance made him look grumpy and solemn, but he couldn't care less. He was a prince, and was supposed to keep to himself. And while the physical need to be with someone did occure from time to time, he always went away from these encounters with a clear head and untouched emotions. As far as his people were aware, Thorin Oakenshield had no other emotions than hate for Smaug, disgust for the elves and strong affection for his sister and nephews.
And now, having spent his life being just fine with being alone with himself and not feeling the need to pay attention to someone more than it was absolutely necessary, Thorin was surprised to notice slight changes to his own ways. Ever since the beginning of this quest the halfling had constantly been on his mind. At first it had been pure curiosity on how this domestic little thing would survive in the wild, sporting his fancy dressing gown and bare feet that had not met anything tougher than the occasional rock on a soft sandy path. Then the curiosity had turned into annoyance for the hobbit managing to get himself in trouble. Incident with the trolls had left Thorin completely unimpressed and annoyed, even despite the fact that the halfling had had the wits to try talking to the trolls in order to buy some time.
His annoyance did crack a bit when the hobbit had returned to them after escaping Goblin Town. But Thorin hadn't had time to dwell on that since the orcs had different views on whether the company deserved a break or not. The next few hours passed in a craze, the halfling slipping to the back of his mind as he faced Azog. The hobbit however, managed to get Thorin's attention back on himself by attacking orcs and wargs twice his size with the ferocity and determination of a caged animal fighting for freedom. Surprise at that was the only thought Thorin had managed to register before everything went black.
So now, when he was lying by the fire, encircled by loud breathing and an occasional snore of his dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield tried to sort out his emotions that had come out of nowhere and crashed onto him. He was not one for unnecessary touches, he never felt the need to be that close to someone without a reason. So the embrace he had shared with the halfling on top of the Carrock, while being his own initiative, had shook him to his very core. He tried to dismiss that as mere feeling of surprise, gratitude and relief for being alive, but being honest with himself, he had to admit that he would gladly repeat his action again. And again. The feeling of a soft, little body pressed against his hard, tired and injured frame was something Thorin couldn't get out of his mind. It had been soothing, almost comforting to hold the hobbit close; and no matter how hard he tried, Thorin couldn't remember his thoughts during that precious little moment. All he was left with was a cluster of feelings; comfort, relief, affection, fear bundled together so hard, it was impossible for him to disintangle them.
He looked over to where the Halfling was sleeping beside Bofur, and sighed. A quick thought crossed his mind, that had he been in other dwarf's postion right now, he could simpy drape his arm around the little frame and feel the calming presence of it by his side again. Thorin groaned quietly, sat up and shook his head.
That drew attention from Balin, who had volunteered to be on watch out. The white haired dwarf looked at his king with concern in his eyes.
„Everything allright, laddie?"
Thorin struggled to stand up without using his injured arm or applying too much pressure on his damaged left side. With an irritated sigh he finally managed to stand upright and went over to Balin.
„Just having trouble sleeping."
Balin nodded his head with understanding. „Your injuries?"
Accepting this excuse, Thorin nodded, not wanting to talk to anyone about something he himself couldn't yet understand.
„Need me to look at them?"
„I'm fine. And since I'm not going to get any sleep, you should go and rest. It had been a long day for all of us. We will need our strenght tomorrow. No way of knowing how that meeting with Gandalf's man will go."
Knowing better than to argue with his king, Balin smiled quietly in acceptance and went over to the fire to find a place to sleep.
Thorin busied himself by trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. His left side ached, having taken the greatest part of damage from the warg's teeth. His left arm was bandaged, numerous puncture wounds deforming the already scarred skin. The dwarf had a passing thought that there probably wasn't a part of his body that hadn't experienced injuries during his many years of life. He almost laughed darkly at himself, but stopped in time to remember the look on halfling's face earlier that day when Dori was fussing aroung his king, accessing his injuries. The hobbit had looked extremely concerned, not even trying to blush or stop himself from staring at Thorin's half naked form, his bright eyes scanning over every inch of the dwarf's body, noting every scar and every mark on his skin. Thorin could almost imagine the halfling counting his scars, as his eyes grew wider and filled with emotion he couldn't quite place. He then saw one of his nephews put a hand on the hobbit's shoulder, obviously noticing his concern.
„Not to worry, Master Baggins. We've seen him worse, believe me." Kili had said with a smile, trying to reassure the hobbit. His words however, caused the exact opposite. Thorin saw the halfling gulp amost comically as those bright blue eyes get even bigger, and he was about to reassure the hobbit himself, wanting nothing more than to wipe that look of fear and concern away, but Dori had interrupted him, having just finished with bandaging of Thorin's arm.
„There you go. It doesn't look that bad, though you might have trouble moving around for a couple of days. The bandages should hold until tomorrow, I'll be able to do a better job with them once we get some ointments and clean dressings."
Thorin thanked Dori, noting in his mind that it was both for tending to his injuries and stopping him from talking to Bilbo. He was still confused about the hobbit and didn't need anyone noticing his odd mood. He had surprised everyone by hugging the halfling and it was enough of that for one day. No need to talk and accidentaly blurt something. He had made a promise to himself then and there that he would avoid talking to the hobbit until he had his thoughts all straight and figured out.
However now, sitting alone amongst his sleeping comrades, he realised that it would be easier said than done. The weird pull he felt towards the hobbit was almost palpable and Thorin was wise enough to listen to his own feelings rather than ignore them. Whatever the reason was, it would have to be a good one for it was making the dwarf king feel the way he could not remeber feeling like ever before.
He would access the situation with a clear head and good judgement; no need to dwell on feelings that he couldn't place. It would be for the best to get his mind back in control of his emotions. Yes, that was what he needed to do. As he was convincing himself that it would indeed be the best way to handle the situation, he heard a soft noise from his sleeping companions. After a quick glance around he saw that it was the hobbit mumbling something in his sleep. The dwarf felt corners of his mouth twich in something that desperately wanted to be a smile.
Thorin sighed and shook his head in quiet surrender. Once again, it would be easier said than done.
Well, there it is. How was it? I will probably continue this story just to get it out of my system, but still it would be nice to hear (read) the feedback. Any comments? Suggestions? Well-deserved criticism? :)
