Imagine Thorin becoming your father figure when you reveal the fact that your father left you at a young age
(No one requested this, I just wanted to do it)
Modern! Reader, mentions of parental abandonment, Treasure Planet reference, maybe a little OOC! Thorin, Reader is 15-17
Summary: Reader is kind of an angsty teenager (just a little taller than Bilbo) but after a while, they come to trust the company enough to tell them about their father issues
You’d fallen into Middle-Earth not too far from where Thorin’s company resided, and an orc pack just so happened to be right between you, with your bow and quiver full of arrows you’d been given at the age of 8. And you being you, you just had to get caught and roped into a fight.
An orc had you against a tree and was about to send a blade right through your neck, until the sound of deep male voices came closer to you by the second. Before you knew it, the orc that was about to kill you was now a lifeless corpse, lying on the ground with its head cut clean off. As soon a you could, you picked up your fallen weapon, and joined the fight.
When Gandalf took notice of your astonishing ability with your bow and arrow, he felt you were a fine fit to join the dwarves and hobbit on their journey. Deciding you didn’t want to risk it, you begrudgingly accepted.
That was about a month and a half ago.
In that time, you’d kept a reasonable distance from most of the dwarves, mostly Thorin and Dwalin. You felt most comfortable around Bilbo and Gandalf, but occasionally made small talk with Fili and Kili, and Bofur once or twice. But that was all. You just kept to yourself, but obeyed Thorin’s orders, not wanting to get yourself in too much trouble with the dwarf leader.
The company was now gathered around a campfire while Thorin and Dwalin went to scout ahead, and you sat on a boulder next to a tree as you fiddled with your silver, crescent moon necklace.
Anyway, you’d been thinking for a while, and came to realize that you still had yet to thank the dwarves and hobbit for saving your life, and couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for that. So you decided to wait until Thorin and Dwalin came back so you could tell them all in person.
You kept your head down when half listening to the chatter coming from the group of dwarves around the fire, before hearing some heavy footsteps come close to you, already knowing who it was. It wasn’t until you heard the young dwarf prince utter your name that you lifted your head back up and turned your attention to the company.
“The lass/lad is quite skilled for their age with that bow of theirs!” Kili commented with a proud grin on his face, and the others nodded in agreement. It was only when you put together the bits and pieces of conversation you’d picked up from earlier that you realized that they were referring to when they’d first met you.
And on that note, you remembered exactly why you were waiting for Thorin to come back. Just as said dwarf was about to pass you, you raised your hand out to him and spoke up, “Wait.”
The dwarf king stopped in his tracks, before turning around to face you, attracting the attention of most of the company.
“Um.. look, I uh...” you began, doing your best to think of the right thing to say. “What you did, I-...“ you spoke again, taking in a silent breath, and sighing softly. “.. thanks.” You finished, looking Thorin in the eyes with a faint smile, showing your sincerity before you went back to fiddling with your necklace. ‘Really?’ you asked yourself in your head. ‘They saved you from getting stabbed in the throat and all you can think of is “thanks”?’
Dwalin glances over at you, raising an eyebrow before asking, “Didn’t your Adad ever teach you to pick yer’ fights a bit more carefully?”
At the sound of his voice, you glanced up at the dwarf, but your smile dropped at the word ‘adad’. In your time with the company, they’d taught you a few word in dwarvish, including ‘adad’.
You furrowed your eyebrows a bit as you leaned up against the tree your boulder was right next to and turned your eyesight down to the ground.
Dwalin took a moment to read your body language, before crossing his arms and asking again, “Your father not the teachin’ sort?”
You sighed softly before replying, “.. No. he was more the... ‘taking-off-and-never-coming-back’ sort.” as you crossed your arms and pulled at your sweater sleeves.
You still remembered that morning. That February morning. The memory was so vivid. And you were only 7 years old...
You woke up that morning, and only a moment after opening your eyes, but an uneasy feeling dawned on you.
You quickly sat up and looked out your bedroom window, to see your father walking down the driveway, dragging his suitcase with his barrel bag slung over his shoulder.
With no hesitation, you made a mad dash out of your room and down the stairs, but you stopped to catch your breathe at the bottom of the staircase.
The sight of your mother sitting at the dining room table with her elbows on the table and her face in her hands, her (h/c) hair in a messy ponytail and her shoulders shaking from her shuddering gasps and cries... it beat your heart even further into the ground.
You quickly ran out the door and saw that your father was getting ready to leave. You didn’t want to believe it, but it was all happening right in front of your eyes. You began to run down the driveway, almost tripping and falling halfway down.
You were just about to reach your father, but by the time you there right at the edge of the driveway... he’d already driven off, and was out of your reach. You watched in heartache as your father left. Left your mother, your home, and left your life. He left it all behind. As of it meant nothing to him. He left you. You meant nothing to him.
The dwarves and hobbit looked at you with expressions of shock and sympathy, but also understanding, no longer wondering why you acted the way you did.
“Oh..” Kili spoke softly as he made his way over to you, before taking a seat next to you on the massive rock and gently pat your back. “Sorry lass/lad.”
“Hey, it’s no big deal.” You said as you shrugged and tried to brush it off, “I’ve been living just fine.” But you knew you were lying, and some part of Thorin knew it too.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he gazed at you. “Is that so?” he asked in a hushed tone, before a minor smirk make its way to his lips and he walked closer to you.
“Well, since you’ll be traveling with us and there’s bound to be much greater dangers ahead, I’ll be having a few skills put into you to keep you out of trouble.” Throin stayed with a ghost of a grin on his face.
You raised an eyebrow in question, “What?” Thorin cut you off before you could ask anything else, “From now on, I’ll be putting you in Fili and Kili’s charge. They’ll teach you to properly wield a sword.”
This earned excited looks from the young dwarf princes, hey were obviously excited to spend time with you. You still had no idea what was going on, but had no words to question it.
In the next 3 weeks, you were glad to say that Throin’s order brought out the better in you. It was honestly fun to train with the Durin brothers, not to mention Kili helping you enhance your archery skills.
That wasn’t the only thing you enjoyed about their company. Having open up to most of the company by then provided comfort and solace for when you felt down about your father’s abandonment. A few stories were shared with you from a few of the dwarves, and even Bilbo shared a few memories of his own, and it made you feel better.
But the last thing you exprected from Throin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain, was for him to treat you like his daughter/son. It gradually went from him being slightly protective over you, to draping his coat over you when you fell asleep on any particularly cold nights. Not to mention Fili and Kili treasing you like a sister/brother.
You’d finally gotten the experience you’d been neglected your whole life. It was kinda silly, but you finally felt like you had a dad.
“He” may have been your father... but he wasn’t your dad.
(A/N: sorry if this was lazy around the end, i just hope I got my point across. Lemme know if you liked it)
Talking about angina and how the word came to be in English. My professor explains it briefly then one of the students asks for a better explanation. My professor says he's a doctor but not that kind of doctor. This made us all giggle.
