This is such an awesome idea for an ask game, I couldn't resist!
Trait: I learned embroidery and it's so much fun, but I also enjoy being active and playing sports!
Type of relationship: soul mates đť (I am a sucker for "the One" concept the Dwarves have đ
)
Thank you and have a good day/night!
Heeelllloooooo @thewhiteladyofrohan đđđ
I'm glad you've joined the fun!
I must say I especially like your choice, not only because it's Thorin - but also because of the "Dwarven Ones" trope (I'm hopelessly romantic I guess). It's been a pleasure to write this imagine for you!
I know it took me a while and I'm sorry, but real life got in the way. Hope my little gigantic imagine makes up for it a bit - I wrote most of it a while back but only now managed to finish it. Oh, and I hope you'll forgive me the pinch of angst here - but the tarot cards asked for it...
đť - Soul Mates with Thorin
(By the way, that's surprising, this is the second tarot spread for a Thorin story I do when one of the cards turns out to be the Raven - The Journey - the guiding spirit and psychopompos. Coincidence? Also, have you noticed that he's feasting on a skull of a deer, or maybe even an elk? Take this, Thrandy! ;))
You always admired prince Thorin from afar. He was always courteous, mature for his age, and â of course â very handsome and you were not the only Dwarf-woman to think this way. It wasnât difficult to notice that he had quite a few admirers and many ladies seeked the opportunity to spend time with him. Perhaps it was for the best that you werenât a noble so you didnât have many opportunities to meet the prince. This way you didnât have to see how he talked with all those ladies, how he smiled at them, how he took them in his arms and danced with them all night long. All you had were glimpses of him as he walked through the markets of Erebor on some errands, when he trained with Dwalin or when he rode off for a scouting trip. It had to be enough for you.
After the dragon came and all of your people had to escape Erebor, everything changed. It didnât matter any longer who was a noble and who wasnât â everyone helped each other as best they could. You traveled east, living through hardships and doing your best to survive in harsh conditions.
You used to be an embroideress, you inherited the skills from your mother, but now all the beautiful fabrics and silk threads were burned to ashes by dragonfire along with your past life. With all the Orcs attacks happening more and more often, you decided to make yourself useful and learned how to fight, trained by Dwalin.
On some evenings on the road you saw Thorinâs ashen face, the constant frown on his face, his brilliant blue eyes looking into the distance, stars shining above him. It seemed that the horrors of the past kept him awake, just like you. With time, you started talking with each other during those rare moments when you were alone together and soon you felt comfortable enough to confide in each other. The silent, brooding prince chose you to share his burdens with â someone who wouldnât judge him, wouldnât expect him to act like a future king, someone who saw him just as a Dwarf.
You never dared to tell him about your feelings. It was better, you decided, that he didnât know he was your One. This was no time for hopeless romantic thoughts. Your people needed shelter and Thorin had to focus on his duties, helping his grandfather and father with leading thousands of Dwarves through inhospitable land and finding a safe place to stay. Last thing he needed was to be embarrassed by your declarations of love he surely didnât reciprocate. Staying quiet was the best option.
Years passed and soon it was clear: you were preparing for a war. King Thror was killed by Orcs in Moria when he tried to reclaim it. His son and all the dwarven clans decided to avenge him. Fighting was long and hard, but you persevered and managed to survive, fighting side by side with Thorin, Dwalin and Frerin.
The tragic battle of Azanulbizar left everyone scarred. Many Dwarves lay slain, even though the Orcs were vanquished. With his father and brother gone, Thorin grieved alone, distancing himself from everyone for days. Even you failed to reach him. When he finally emerged from his tent, the prince you had known was gone. You were looking into the pained eyes of a reluctant king.
Soon your new king led the Longbeards to the Blue Mountains and you started a new life there, building new halls for your people. A new home.
The quiet evenings with Thorin by the fire were a song of the past. With all the construction work, Thorin had many duties to attend to and more important things to do than idle talk with a simple warrior like you, you thought. You missed the closeness you shared but there was nothing to be done about it. He would sometimes meet you in passing, exchange a few polite words, and ask about your wellbeing. Once he told you that if there was anything you needed, all you had to do was let him know. He was courteous as ever, but you knew it was his politeness speaking. Whenever you met him, you saw sadness lingering in his eyes, but even your usual jokes couldnât disperse it. When you asked about how he was doing, he would always reply: âwell enoughâ, his eyes set on something above your head. As much as you tried, you couldnât rekindle your old bond. But perhaps that was how it should be. He was a king now, after all, and you swore your allegiance to him, just like all the other warriors did.
Dwalinâs training made sure you didnât have much time to wallow in self-pity. Instead, you worked on improving your fighting techniques. On some occasions, Thorin would join you and the other warriors at the training grounds and you could admire his flawless technique with a sword and his skill as a warrior.
Many years passed and the Blue Mountains started truly feeling like home. Trade flourished, and people got on with their lives. You and your mother reopened your embroidery shop and were doing well, but you didnât forget your warriorâs training.
There were marriages and children, but you remained unwed. Your mother guessed there was someone in your heart, someone unattainable, and never tried to force you into an unwanted marriage. You decided to focus on your craft instead, occasionally riding out with Dwalin and his warriors whenever your sword and shield were needed.
During one of your excursions Dwalin told you he was leaving and joining Thorin on a quest to reclaim Erebor. After hearing more details, you were sure you wanted to be a part of it.
You asked for an audience with Thorin and, to your surprise, you were invited for a meeting with him. You offered your sword, but Thorin immediately declined, stating that this would be a perilous journey and he wouldnât like to endanger you. You were a Dwarf-woman, a precious and rare member of your race.
You reminded him that he told you once to ask if there was something you needed. And this was precisely it - you needed to go, you needed to help reclaim your homeland, and you needed to make sure that Thorin, the Dwarf you loved beyond words, would survive this dangerous mission.
He looked deeply into your eyes but you withstood his piercing gaze. Reluctantly, he finally agreed.
Thorinâs Company, you included, left towards the Lonely Mountain, leaving the safety of the Blue Mountains behind. It was a dangerous journey that took you many months, but it rekindled hope in your heart. In the company of his most trusted friends Thorin was more like his old self and some nights he joined you on your watch (or you would join him) and then you talked as if you were back under the starry skies of Dunland, exchanging your thoughts and sharing the burden of your worries.
One chilly evening when everyone was fast asleep you talked for many hours and fell asleep with your head on Thorinâs shoulder. You had a strange dream of a warm hand caressing your cheek and fingers running through your hair. In the morning you woke up on your bedroll, covered by his fur-lined cloak. You havenât slept that well in ages.
After escaping Mirkwood and leaving Laketown you arrived in Erebor, and then hell broke loose. Dragon sickness took over Thorin, changing him beyond recognition, and he searched for the Arkenstone day and night, demolishing the place, shouting ridiculous orders at everyone. You confronted him, told him to stop and get some rest, trying to get some sense into him, but he roared at your insubordination and accused you of treason. There was only cold greed in his eyes when he discharged you from his service as a warrior and ordered you to leave the Mountain.
Your Thorin was gone and you left Erebor brokenhearted, but you decided to stay nearby. You knew that he succumbed to some kind of darkness, but you refused to leave for good, hoping that it all would pass. You saw the Elven warriors preparing for war and observed the negotiations between Thranduil, Bard and Thorin from outside of the Mountain. When the orc army approached, you were ready.
The battle was long and bloody, but you kept on fighting, rejoicing when Dain Ironfootâs army joined the fray. And then finally Thorin and his companions emerged from Erebor and you saw in your eyes that it was your Thorin again, not that greedy monster from the treasure chamber. As he fought, you cut through the Orcs just to get closer to him, but there were too many of them in your way. You saw when he rode off to Ravenhill.
When you arrived there, it was almost too late. Azog was there, his weapon delving into Thorinâs chest while your One was on ice, on his back, his face covered with blood. You shouted with anger and charged towards them. Your sword pierced the Pale Orcâs back and he fell lifeless on the cold ice before he could do more damage.
Thorin was heavily wounded but you worked quickly, trying to stop the bleeding. The wound wasnât deep and you hoped that it wasnât fatal. Thorin tried to tell you something, speaking in disbelief with a faint smile, âYou came backâŚâ, his hand squeezing your fingers gently.
He was taken back to Erebor where Oin and the Elven healers tended to his wounds. They said that if he survived the next three nights, he would live.
So you stayed by his side for those three nights, watching over him. He was unconscious, but you made sure he was comfortable and warm. To kill time, you took out a bundle from your backpack that you took with you all the way from the Blue Mountains and you continued working on the embroidery. It was going to be an embroidered cloak, dark blue and golden, and you meant to give it to Thorin when you were finished. It was supposed to be finished before the Quest, but you ran out of time and now you could finally continue. You believed he would wake up soon and, since his fur-lined cloak was lost along the way, he would accept your heartâs gift. Since he was a king and you â a discharged warrior, there would not be any courting gifts between you. This was the only thing he could get from you without raising suspicions and you poured all heart into this cloak and its fine embroideries.
On the third night a fever washed over him and you were dreading the worst. You sent for Oin. In the meantime Thorin regained consciousness and whispered through pale lips, his eyes brimming with emotion, âForgive me for my words. I was not myself. I never doubted you. You were the closest person I had toâŚâ He choked on his words. âForgive me⌠Farewell, AmrâlimĂŞâŚâ he whispered and closed his eyes.
You couldn't believe your ears. Was it really you he meant? Could this be true? Your heart beat impossibly fast. Was it possible that he felt something for you too, something more than just camaraderie? Swallowing your tears, you tried to wake him up, you pleaded, hoping he would open his cerulean blue eyes again but to no avail. Was Thorin going to be taken from you forever before you had the chance to tell him about your own feelings? You helplessly looked at his lifeless features.
That was when Oin arrived. After a quick examination it turned out that Thorin still had a faint pulse, but was holding on to his life by a thread. You let Oin do his healing magic, all the time holding Thorinâs hand and whispering reassuring words, words of forgiveness, love and hope into his ear.
Finally Thorinâs breathing evened out and his fever broke. Oin assured you that he was out of imminent danger and needed to sleep. You sat by Thorinâs bed this time as well, not leaving him, observing the steady movements of his chest, even though tiredness was hard to overcome.
You woke up with your head on the bed and a warm hand touching your cheek, fingers running through your hair. Thorin was awake. Although he was still weak, there was a smile on his face. âI heard your voice in the darkness. It helped me find my way back to you, AmrâlimĂŞ,â he said.
âDo you truly mean it?â you mumbled, still not able to believe what he was implying.
âHave you not guessed? You are my One. You have been my One since Dunland.â
âAll these years⌠Why didnât you say anything?â
âI was a homeless pauper with nothing to offer, and then a ruler in mourning. How could I allow myself to hope for love if I knew that my people needed a home?â He pressed your hand to his lips.
âAnd nowâŚ?â
âNow I heard your words. I know your heartâŚâ
âMy heart is yours,â you admitted, covering his hand with yours. âIf you will have it.â
âThere is nothing else in the entire world that I want more,â his smile deepened. âIf you accept my heart in return.â
And then you simply replied, âI will.â
Your declarations were sealed by a tender kiss.
To Oinâs astonishment, Thorinâs recovery took much faster than he expected and soon your One was up and about.
Erebor turned into a busy place - the kingdom was being rebuilt and Dwarves were returning to their homeland, but you and Thorin managed to find moments of solitude whenever you could, counting stars at night, exploring the glittering caves under the mountain, waiting for the first rays of the sun to paint the morning sky pink or dancing among the snowflakes swirling from the sky.
That was when Thorin gazed at you with tenderness and asked, âWill you do me the honor of becoming my wife and queen?â
Your courting felt like a dream. There were sweet kisses, caresses and little tokens of your affection.
Finally the day had come to exchange your final courting gifts â your wedding gifts. On the day of your wedding Thorin gave you the most beautiful necklace you have ever seen â the gemstones matched your eye color and you recognized his handiwork â he must have worked on it for months. You offered him the cloak you started lovingly embroidering in the Blue Mountains and finished in Erebor, weaving in all your love into its patterns. The rich color of the fabric and fur lining reminded you of the cloak Thorin lost along the way, the one he covered you with on that night on the road. When you held each otherâs hands and promised each other unending love and devotion in front of the people of Erebor, you recalled that night clearly. You had dreamed of someoneâs fingers running through your hair, of his gentle touch and of his whisper: âI love you more than life itself.â
You started your new, happy life with Thorin knowing that this time it wasnât a dream.
đ¨đ¨ Imagine Ask Game rules (asks closed) đ¨đ¨
