Hey ya'll! Welcome to my Thorin/OC story! The idea for this story has been on my mind for a loooong time now and I finally just said, "I gotta get it written already!" I also have another story, if you haven't read it already, which is called "Home Is Where the Heart Is". It's a Kili/OC that I've been writing since the beginning of the year.
This is a pretty short chapter, but hopefully it's a good start :)
Enjoy! :D
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my OC.
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"Here they come, my lord."
A member of the Royal Guard under Thror, King Under the Mountain and King of Erebor, the mightiest Dwarf kingdom in Middle-Earth, was addressing the arrival of some special guests they were expecting.
A few day's previous, it had been a special day in Erebor. A Dwarf who had been digging in the mines, just as he always did, had struck something in the mountain. Naturally he had thought it was another diamond or sapphire hidden within the stone, but was surprised to see a stone that was glimmering brighter than a star nestled in a crook in the mountain. It was a stone of great surpassing magnificence; its colors could be seen as a mix of almost every color known to the world that swirled and coiled luminously inside it. The mere sight of it was entrancing; captivating. This was no ordinary stone.
It was the heart of the mountain, or the "Arkenstone", as the Dwarves so named it. It had been presented to King Thror, who named it the "King's Jewel" and took it as a sign that his right to rule was divine.
News of this discovery had spread to the East and to the West. Not long after the Arkenstone was found, Thror received word that a small caravan of Elves from Mirkwood led by the Elvenking, Thranduil, would be coming to pay homage to the Dwarven King for their finding of such an incredible prize. Thror respectfully accepted the offer. Mirkwood was not far from Erebor, so the Dwarves knew it would not be long before the Elves arrived.
As expected, the day came where the coming of the Elven caravan was near. King Thror had called upon his son, Prince Thrain, and grandson, Prince Thorin, to join him in the meeting with the Elves. They were descendants of the line of Durin the Deathless; one of the longest and greatest lines of Dwarven royalty. It seemed fitting to have all three of Durin's heirs present at such a meeting. Thror sat regally on his throne, which adorned the Arkenstone just above his crowned head, with Thrain standing to his left and Thorin to his right.
One of the guards at the front gate of the mountain fortress heard many footsteps approaching and called to the King that Elves were arriving. Thror ordered them to open the gates and let their guests enter. As commanded, the guards opened the stone gates and revealed a small group of tall, slender, royally-dressed Elves that numbered to a total of six members. The Dwarves watched curiously as they began to slowly make their way down the causeway that led from the gate down to the throne.
Thorin's POV
The young Dwarf Prince leaned over close to his grandfather and whispered to him as the Elves made their way to them, "I know we have civil dealings with the Mirkwood Elves, but in all honesty, I did not expect such a gesture as this from them."
"What makes you say that, my lad?" Thror asked him.
Thorin shrugged slightly. "Elves are so different than Dwarves," he replied, still in a hushed voice. "They live out in the open; amongst the trees in the forests. Our people live within the stone walls of the mountains, where it is cold and confined. I didn't think that any Elf would want to come here when it is almost the complete opposite environment than what they are accustomed to. I thought they would find it uncomfortable here."
Thror gave his grandson a pat on the shoulder. "A small sacrifice to make in regards to paying your respects to a fellow monarch in honor of something greater," he answered him. "In time, you will understand, Thorin. You still have much to learn."
Politely, Thorin nodded his head to the King and glanced back, watching the small Elven convoy approach them. Taking up the back of the group were four Elven guards garbed in gray armor. At the head stood a tall Elf clothed in silver robes with long, blonde hair, a sincere expression on his face as well as pale blue eyes that gazed intently at them. Upon his head was a large pointed crown designed with a likeness to tree branches garlanded with leaves all around it. His demeanor was calm, contemplative, yet etched with authority. There was no doubt that this was Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood.
However, it was the figure standing next to the Elf King that peaked Thorin's curiosity. Only because the remaining member of the group was a bit shorter in height, compared to the rest, and was hooded and cloaked, concealing their face in the shadow. The Dwarf Prince wondered why this particular member kept their identity hidden whereas the others did not.
"Welcome to Erebor, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm," Thror graciously greeted them, lifting his hands in the air as a welcoming gesture. "We are honored by your presence here."
"The honor is all mine, Thror, King Under the Mountain," Thranduil replied with a small bow of his head, his deep, cool voice speaking the words with such distinguished flow. His eyes wandered up slightly above Thror's head at the sparkling gem on his throne. "That must be the Arkenstone. What a glorious jewel to behold!" he stated. His pale blue eyes looked back to the King, almost beaming in awe. "You must be very pleased with such a find."
Thror gave a nod. "Indeed, I am." Then he straightened himself up. "Allow me to introduce you to my kin; my heirs." He gestured to his left. "This is my son, Prince Thrain."
Thrain, who knew that the guards, at least, were staring at him because of his lack of one eye, gave a quick bow of his head.
Motioning to his right, Thror then added, "And this is my grandson, Prince Thorin."
Like his father, Thorin bowed his head in respect to the Elvenking.
Thranduil then tilted his head and whispered something to the cloaked figure beside him, in Elvish, from what it sounded like. Then the figure lifted their hands to their hood and pulled it back to reveal their face and Thorin's eyes widened immensely at what he saw.
It was an Elven woman.
When her cloak had been removed and she looked to the Dwarven King, long auburn hair with slight waves and very thin streaks of gold cascaded down her shoulders from underneath her hood. Her face was well-rounded; not too thin like the appearance of some she-Elves. She had high cheekbones, pale, flawless skin that seemed to glow in the torchlight and full, light pink lips that were curved upward in a pleasant smile. She was not close enough for Thorin to see what color her eyes were, but he could at least guess that they were perhaps green or hazel. It still puzzled him a little as to why she was shorter than the rest of her company, but he paid that no mind. She was dressed in an elegant forest-green and black Elvish gown that greatly emphasized the graceful curves of her slender body.
To Thorin, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her astonishing beauty was beyond measure; no other creature or being in all of Middle-Earth could compare to the loveliness so blatantly seen in this woman's appearance. She appeared to be young, possibly still in her youth, much like he was, but by Elf standards since they age much differently than Dwarves. In the instant he set eyes on her, the young Prince was smitten with this woman. Never before had he become taken with a female of any race so quickly. It surprised him that this happened with a woman of the Elven race. There was nothing wrong with them; he had just always assumed that he would only ever find himself attracted to Dwarf women. But it seemed that was not to be so, not since he had seen the she-elf reveal herself from underneath her hood.
Her gaze suddenly met his and he realized that he was staring at her. He wanted to turn away, embarrassed, but failed to do so as he noticed her smiling at him warmly. He caught his breath and his heart about stopped at the sight and then it began to race, pounding hard against the inside of his chest, threatening to burst forth. However, he kept a calm, noble façade as he smiled back at her, despite the butterflies he could feel fluttering about in his stomach. He had never experienced such elation before in his life, especially upon merely looking at another female.
The Elvenking gestured to the young Elf-woman and introduced her to Thror as well as Thrain and Thorin. "This is Lancaeriel, Princess of Mirkwood. She is my niece; the daughter of my brother, Galead. He and his wife were lost many a year ago, leaving their young daughter in my care. I allowed her to accompany me here at her own request."
Thror eyed the Princess, intrigued by her. "My, my, you are a lovely one!" he exclaimed with great enthusiasm. "Your beauty may yet rival that of the Arkenstone, my dear."
Lancaeriel just blushed. "You flatter me, your Highness. I thank you," she answered, the high lilt in her voice divine and smooth like pure silk as she spoke. Thorin couldn't help but sigh quietly at hearing such a sweet sound that sounded like music to his ears in just a simple response.
Turning back to Thranduil, Thror asked him, "For how long do you wish to stay in Erebor, Elvenking?"
"It is our wish to stay for no less than a month, if you will permit it," Thranduil answered. "My niece and I would like to see as much of your fortress city as we can."
The Dwarf King stood up from his throne and descended down the stone steps in front of the Elf. "So be it, then," he said proudly. "You and your convoy shall be our honored guests for a month's time and I promise you that you will see the many wonders of our city that will be to your liking. That, I can assure you."
Gratefully, both Thranduil and Lancaeriel gave a bow of their heads to Thror.
"My attendants will show you to our guest quarters where you will stay," Thror then said to them. "My son and grandson and I have other matters we must attend to, but we shall send for you when our business is through. And we will have a great feast in honor of your safe arrival this evening!"
"We thank you graciously, King Thror," said Thranduil as they were led away by a couple of Dwarf guards.
They passed in front of Thorin and he caught Lancaeriel's eyes as she walked by him. Once again, she gave him a friendly smile and continued to look back at him until she could no longer twist her neck any further. The young Prince watched her until they rounded a corner and disappeared from view.
As he followed his father and grandfather out of the throne room, there was only one question that kept bouncing around like mad in his head:
"Mahal above, who is that woman?"
All he knew of her already was that she was a Princess and her name was Lancaeriel; a lovely name for such a lovely Elf. But he wanted to know more; so much more about her…and he determined then and there that, in the month that she would be spending in Erebor, he was going to make that happen. He was going to learn more about the Elven Princess.
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Hopefully that was a good start to a story :)
I'll try and update this story as much as I can...I'm currently taking online classes, working longer hours and writing another fanfic at the same time...I'll probably alternate between the two, depending on which one I'm in the mood to work on.
Leave a review or PM me with your thoughts! :D They are much appreciated!
PS: The cover image? I made that! And I'm really quite proud of it :) Hope you all like it, too!
