After Everything...

after everything...

thorin x reader fanfic

word count: no idea mate

The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat, blood and victory. The last embers of Smaug’s destruction flickered on the horizon, casting an orange glow across the weary faces of the remaining Dwarves. Relief, tinged with the sorrow of lost kin, settled over Erebor like a shroud. Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of joy sparked between you and Thorin. Exhausted but exhilarated, you found yourselves drawn to a secluded corner of the reclaimed halls. Dust motes danced in the fading light, illuminating the resolute set of Thorin’s jaw and the glint of triumph in his steely blue eyes.

“We did it,” you breathed, the words catching in your throat.

The weight of the past weeks, the battles, the desperate scramble for survival, all pressed down on you. But here, in the shadow of Erebor, a fragile sense of peace settled in.

Thorin turned to you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite the grime etched on his face and the weariness in his every breath, there was a spark of pride in his gaze. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

“Aye, we did,” he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “Thanks to you, amongst many others.” His thumb brushed over the knuckles of your hand, a silent acknowledgment of your bravery.

You squeezed his hand back, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Don’t downplay your role, King Thorin. Without your stubborn determination, we’d all still be lizard snacks.”

A genuine laugh escaped him, a rich sound that seemed to echo in the cavernous hall. It was a rare sound, a glimpse of the Thorin you’d known before the dragon’s madness had taken hold. The sound warmed you from the inside out. The moment stretched between you, a silent understanding passing between tired eyes. The future of Erebor stretched before you, a vast and uncertain landscape. Yet, in that shared look, a promise bloomed – a promise to face the challenges together, to rebuild a kingdom and a life.

“There’s much to be done,” Thorin finally said, his voice regaining its usual gruffness. “But for tonight,” he paused, his gaze lingering on your face, “let us celebrate what we have achieved.”

A blush crept up your neck. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air – a celebration that extended far beyond the reclaimed halls. A honeymoon, a stolen moment of normalcy amidst the chaos. You met his gaze, a silent acceptance passing between you. The weight of the coming tasks could wait.

A hesitant smile bloomed on your face. "Lead the way, Your Majesty," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "Although, I wouldn't mind a bath first. This grime is practically a second skin."

Thorin's gruff laugh echoed through the hall. "Aye, that can be arranged. There are still some functioning baths in the royal quarters, though they may not be as luxurious as you're accustomed to."

The mention of your old life sent a pang of nostalgia through you, quickly replaced by a surge of excitement. Luxury could wait. The thought of soaking away the aches of battle and the grime of the journey in the company of Thorin was far more appealing.

"A bath fit for a king and his…" you trailed off, searching for a playful word. "His consort?" Thorin supplied, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"His… most capable companion," you winked

An unfamiliar warmth bloomed in your chest as the corner of his mouth curled into a genuine smile. He gestured towards a side passage. "Follow me then, my beloved capable companion. A bath and a meal await."

The walk to the royal quarters was filled with a comfortable silence. Despite the exhaustion clinging to you both, a shared sense of anticipation crackled in the air. This stolen moment, this glimpse of normalcy, felt precious after the tumultuous journey. The bath chamber was surprisingly well-maintained, a testament to the dwarven love for craftsmanship. Thorin excused himself briefly, returning with a steaming pitcher of water and a handful of fragrant herbs. His gaze swept over you, a flicker of something warm passing through his eyes before he quickly looked away.

"Here," he said gruffly, handing you the pitcher. "I cannot… well, I wouldn't want to intrude."

You couldn't help but smile. "Nonsense," you teased. "Surely a king can offer his consort some assistance?"

Thorin hesitated, then a hint of a smile played on his lips. The following hours were a blur of warm water, soothing herbs, and stolen glances. The tension of the past weeks seemed to melt away in the soothing embrace of the bath. When you finally emerged, wrapped in a soft linen robe, Thorin was waiting by the fire, a simple meal laid out on a nearby table. The flickering flames danced in his eyes, painting them with a warmth you hadn't witnessed in a long while.

"You look… radiant," he said, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. The heat from the fire seemed to rise, warming your cheeks as much as his words did. For a moment, all thoughts of the future, the daunting task of rebuilding a kingdom, faded away. All that remained was the warmth of the fire, the comfort of his presence, and the dawning realization that even amidst the chaos, a love had bloomed, strong and resilient.

You lowered your gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Is that kingly behavior, Thorin Oakenshield? Catching a lady off guard with compliments?"

He cleared his throat, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes despite his attempt at stoicism. "Perhaps not. But the truth is the truth."

The air crackled with a delicious tension. You sank down onto a plush cushion near the fire, beckoning him closer with a tilt of your head. "Then tell me more truths, Your Majesty. Tell me what you see when you look at me."

Thorin met your gaze, his blue eyes searching yours. The flickering firelight played across his face, highlighting the lines etched by hardship yet softening the edges of his normally stoic expression.

"I see courage," he began, his voice low and rumbling. "A fierceness that rivals any dwarf I've known. You stood beside us, faced danger without flinching, and never once faltered."

A warmth bloomed in your chest. It was one thing to hear praise in the heat of battle, another entirely to hear such words from Thorin in this intimate setting.

"And more?" you pressed gently, unable to resist the urge to tease him further.

He hesitated, then a blush crept up his neck, a rare sight that sent a jolt of surprise through you. "And…" he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I see… a beauty that rivals the Arkenstone itself."

The playful smile vanished from your face, replaced by a warmth that threatened to consume you. For a king who valued practicality above all else, his words held a surprising depth of emotion. The vulnerability he displayed, the way his gaze lingered on you, sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "But enough of such talk," he said gruffly, gesturing towards the table. "Let us eat. Tomorrow, the real work begins."

A touch of regret tinged your heart. You knew he was right, of course. Rebuilding Erebor wouldn't wait forever. Yet, the intimacy of the moment, the raw emotions you'd glimpsed beneath his gruff exterior, made you yearn to hold onto it a little longer.

Taking a deep breath, you rose and moved towards the table. "Indeed," you agreed, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "Tomorrow, we face the future. But tonight… tonight, we celebrate."

As you shared the simple meal, a comfortable silence fell between you. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a promise of a future built on shared battles and blooming affection. Tonight, with the flickering firelight painting warm hues on his face, you saw not just the King Under the Mountain, but the man beneath the crown. And the man you saw, the man who spoke of courage and beauty in hushed tones, filled your heart with a newfound certainty – your honeymoon wouldn't be just a stolen moment, but the beginning of a love as strong as the mountain itself.