'No one knows exactly what began the rift. The elves say the dwarves stole their treasure. The dwarves tell another tale - they say the elf-king refused to give them their rightful pay. It is sad, Frodo, how old alliances can be broken, how friendships between peoples can be lost... and for what?'

- Bilbo Baggins, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

Elvish translations:

Adar – Father

Dwarvish Translations:

Nadad - Brother

Adad – Father

Ugmil'adad – Grandfather

Gimlelul – My brightest star

My Aon – My one

May 28th, 2769 TA

Erebor

"Thorin!" Frerin called joyfully as he caught sight of his older brother standing on the balcony facing the city of Dale. "What are you doing our here, Nadad?"

"I was just thinking," Thorin replied quietly as he reached out and patted his brother's shoulder.

"About a certain elf maid with flowing hair the colour of snow and beautiful violet eyes, I presume?" The golden haired prince asked teasingly.

"I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about."

Frerin's features softened as he met his brother's gaze. "I'm no fool, Thorin. I saw the way you looked at her… and I know you've been sneaking around with her."

"H-how?" Thorin questioned, slightly panicked.

"I am the eyes and ears of this place," Frerin grinned. Thorin rolled his eyes and turned back to the balcony. "What exactly is going on between you and the elf maid?"

"I do not know," Thorin admitted with a heavy sigh. "It doesn't really matter, does it? You know Adad and Ugmil'adad will never allow it. Neither will her father."

Frerin clapped his brother on the shoulder, causing Thorin to look up at him curiously. "Do not think about them," Frerin encouraged. "If you truly care about the elf and you can see a future with her, then you should go for it. Do what makes you happy."

Thorin pondered his brother's words, and suddenly, he could see himself about 10 years from then with Marissa by his side as they watch their children play games and run around, screaming and laughing, and both he and the elf princess had wide, undeniably happy smiles on their faces.

"She's my one," Thorin stated abruptly in surprise. Frerin blinked dumbly for a few seconds before he beamed widely at his brother.

"Then go get her!" Frerin said loudly, punching Thorin's arm roughly.

Thorin nodded and started walking, a dazed look on his face as he reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner.

"What a dopey fool!" Frerin chortled as, he too, walked away from the balcony.

Marissa hummed quietly under her breath as she strolled through the corridors aimlessly. Her father and brother had gone to Dale for the morning and early afternoon and Tauriel was helping Arwen pack her belongings as the time had come for the elves to go back to their homes.

Marissa didn't want to leave, she truly didn't. She wanted to stay in the mountain and be with Thorin. Even though she knew her father would never allow it and he would never allow her to be with Thorin, no matter how much she wanted it.

The sound of something being thrown caught her attention and she slowly walked forward, ducking her head as she went through a door made of dark green marble.

She took a few steps forward and found herself in an enormous chamber full to the brim with golden treasure. The gold covered every inch of the floor, and Marissa couldn't tell where the floor was because there was so much gold in there.

In—what she assumed was—the centre of the chamber was the dwarf king. He was standing there, just staring at the mountains upon mountains of gold. Merissa hesitated before slowly making her way down to the king.

"Your majesty?" she asked softly. Thror started and spun to face her, a dark gleam in his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Lady Marissa," Thror greeted dully.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked, frowning in concern.

"It is easier to think, down here… amongst the gold."

Marissa's frown grew in size and she walked over to him, lowering herself to sit down on a pile of gold. Thror followed her lead before running his fingers over a golden goblet at his feet.

"Maybe it would help to talk to someone about what's bothering you?" she suggested gently. Thror paused, assessing her briefly before nodding in agreement.

"I find myself thinking about my late wife," he started, "she has been haunting my thoughts as of late."

"What was she like?"

"Osania was her name. She was one of the finest dwarrow-dams I've ever laid my eyes on. She never took no for an answer—something she got from her mother. But she had a big heart and everyone loved her," Thror explained, a smile spreading across his face. Marissa was happy to see the dark gleam in his eyes fade as he spoke of his wife. "She hated my guts at first, took every opportunity to prank me. One time, she dyed my beard—I was stuck with a bright pink beard for weeks. I eventually won her over… when I discovered that she didn't want fancy flowers or jewels or sweets."

"What did she want?" Marissa asked, eyes bright with interest.

"She wanted the simple things; a picnic in the forest, taking walks together and just being ourselves without having to act like a prince and a maid."

"She was a maid?" Marissa said in surprise, a smile tugging at her lips. "How did you meet her?"

"We ran into each other one day and she spilled a bowl of stew down my front, and then she started yelling at me, telling me to watch where I was going—I knew right away that she was my one and only."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Thror confirmed. Marissa blinked in surprise, her lips parting as she tried to think of something to say. "I could feel it in my heart. She filled a hole in me I didn't even know I had."

"I should go," she said finally. Thror smiled up at her as she rose to her feet. "Thank you, for making me see."

"See what?" Thror frowned in confusion.

"That my cousin was right," she replied before hiking up her skirt and running for the door.

Marissa closed the door behind her with a soft click and a sigh. She'd been all over the mountain, looking for a certain dwarf prince but she'd had no luck finding him, so she'd just retired to her rooms so she could finish packing her belongings.

"Marissa?"

A startled yelp escaped and she spun around to find Thorin standing there by her bed. Marissa's eyes widened in shock and she blinked at him dumbly.

"Thorin? What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to see you," he admitted with a light smile. Marissa's cheeks turned bright pink as he took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. He then pulled a small bundle of Plumeria flowers out from behind his back and handed them to her with a flourish, bowing slightly at the waist.

"They're beautiful. Thank you," she smiled back at him, taking the flowers and lifting them to her nose, breathing in the sweet fragrance before setting them carefully on the table.

"They're from Dale," Thorin explained as he sat beside her on the bed.

"You went all that way for me?" she asked, touched. Thorin nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Marissa leaned in and kissed his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. "You're so kind."

"I'm glad you like them," he replied, chest puffing out with pride at the knowledge that she found him kind and that she liked his gift—which took him hours to find.

Marissa smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat as he took her hand, linking their fingers together. She couldn't help feeling happy that their hands fit together so perfectly.

"I wish I didn't have to leave," she whispered. "I'm going to miss you."

"I know," he replied quietly, stroking her knuckles with his large thumb.

"Can I write to you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way," he assured her before whispering, "You're Gimlelul, Marissa. My aon."

"What does that mean?"

"If you promise not to tell anyone, then I'll tell you," he bargained, knowing he wasn't supposed to divulge the secret of his language to an outsider. But, what was the point giving her compliments of endearment when she couldn't actually understand what he was saying.

"I won't tell a soul, you have my word."

"…Gimlelul, means my brightest star," Thorin explained. Marissa lifted her head and stared at him in shock. "My aon means my one."

"Y-your one?"

"Yes." Thorin nodded and there was no trace of doubt or trickery on his face. Marissa leaned in and kissed him firmly—he returned it after a brief pause of surprise.

"I think you're my one too," she said, a tad nervous. She raised a hand and set it on her chest. "I can feel it, in my heart."

Thorin rested his forehead against hers and Marissa cupped his bearded cheek. She sighed softly, her breath tickling his face.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she murmured. "I don't want this to end."

"It doesn't have to."

"Our fathers will never allow it," she told him sadly, "and my Adar will begin to wonder why I don't search for a partner. He might try to set me up with a male elf."

"You can turn down any offers you receive, and I will do the same."

"What happens when you become king? When people expect you to settle down and find a queen and have heirs? Even if our fathers allowed our union, your people would never accept an elf for a Queen or half-breeds for heirs," she said, trying to make him think ahead. She would rather their relationship end here and now than some time in the future when he would be forced to find a suitable dwarf Queen and have dwarven children. She didn't think she could bear falling for him anymore and then having to watch as he's torn from her and married to another woman. To have to watch him create children with another would break her heart. Sadness flashed through her eyes as he curled his fingers around her chin, lifting her head.

"We will deal with it when the time comes," Thorin whispered and sealed his promise with a kiss.

Later that day, when her belongings had been packed and saddled to her horse, Marissa followed her father and brother along the bridge to the throne to say their farewells—their guards and Tauriel followed behind them at a reasonable distance.

As they got closer, Marissa couldn't help but sneak a glance at her Thorin, her one. He glanced at her too and sent a quick wink and a smirk in her direction. She grinned, biting her lip as she looked away to find Legolas looking between her and Thorin sternly. Marissa's smile dropped and she lowered her head.

"King Thror," Thranduil greeted smoothly. "Thank you for your invitation and your hospitality." The dwarf king nodded in return and a dark haired dwarf stepped forward, holding a large chest in his hands. He walked over and stopped in front of the elves. Thranduil walked forward with his children flanking him. Marissa knew exactly what was in the chest—the white gems of Lasgalen. The very jewels her father had sent to Erebor years ago to be made into jewellery for her mother before she passed away. They were the jewels the dwarves had refused to return to their rightful owners—until now.

The dwarf opened the chest and the three royal elves' eyes widened as they looked down at the gems. The ethereal light from the gems made their eyes glow with pure white light.

Marissa watched closely as her father reached out for the chest… only for the dwarf to slam the lid shut, almost taking off her father's fingers.

"What—?" Marissa's eyes widened in disbelief, as did the eyes of the other elves and Thorin and his brother and father. Her dwarf prince sent a look on confusion up at his grandfather, who simply smirked smugly at the Elvenking.

A look of pure anger crossed Thranduil's face before it settled into the usual stone cold mask. He turned away, the silver material of his robe twirling around his legs at the movement. He took Marissa's hand and pulled her after him with the others following immediately.

"What's going on?" Marissa asked in hush elvish, grasping her father's hand tightly. "Adar?"

"Our friendship with the dwarves is over," he replied swiftly as they made their way towards the door to the throne room. "They will receive no trade wear from us until that foolish little mountain man comes to his senses."

Marissa found herself lowering her head at his words, her heart felt heavy within her chest.

She didn't look back once, not even when her heart and mind—and Thorin's too—begged and screamed at her to just turn around so she could see the sorrow, confusion and the apologetic look on his handsome face.

She refused to listen to her heart.