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[luna-redamancy]

The Mate Pt. 5 (Thorin x Reader)

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Summary: When Smaug’s destruction left the pack of Erebor homeless, Thorin has to call in a debt owed to his father to get a new home for his pack members. When Thorin reaches the Blue Mountains and discovers his mate is amongst the humans living in the mountain village, will Thorin give up his hope for one day reclaiming his territory?

Light cascaded in the room, the sun slowly lifting the darkness off the sky as night turned into day. Furrowing your brow a bit when the sunlight began to rest on your face, you turned to the source of warmth next to you and burrowed yourself in it, your face relaxing once more as you fell back into your slumber. Thorin’s face pulled into an affectionate smile as you had burrowed yourself against his chest, your face against his chest as he lay on his side, his arms wrapped protectively around you like a cocoon.

The sunlight gave you an ethereal glow, your face relaxed from your peaceful slumber, your hair highlighted by the sun rays. Thorin’s heart fluttered when you pulled yourself even closer to him, your body firmly pressed up against his, a content sigh leaving your lips as your body found the warmth of his skin. 

Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, Thorin pulled the blanket up over your shoulder, feeling just how cold you were. Laying his forehead on top of your head, Thorin allowed his eyes to slip closed once more, he and his wolf soothed by holding you. 

-

The peace was broken by firm scratching at his door, the sound of nails down a chalkboard coursing through the room. You jumped awake, a gasp leaving your throat as you held onto Thorin tighter. Thorin heard your heartbeat quicken, snapping him awake as he pulled you closer, his eyes searching for the threat as the clouds of sleep were getting pushed away by the adrenaline in his veins. 

Positioning you under him, Thorin laid over you protectively, his eyes shimmering in gold as he instinctively held you beneath him. If someone was about to get hurt, he’d rather it be him than his mate.

Slowly the sound stopped, causing Thorin to relax his posture a bit before looking over at the door then back at you. His gaze softened as he saw the fear in your eyes, he could hear your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Thorin calmed you, smelling your fear and confusion before cupping your jaw to press a gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes fluttering closed again as Thorin’s thumb brushed against your cheekbone. 

“Who’s there?” Thorin demanded after he pulled away, anger laced in his tone. Hearing no response, Thorin gave you a gentle kiss again before deciding to leave the bed. 

Stepping out of bed, Thorin made the mental decision that he never wanted to smell fear on you ever again. 

Thorin leaned against the door, smelling nothing but a slight pine smell coming from outside, hearing nothing but birds chirping as the morning was just starting. 

Slowly opening the door, Thorin looked around but saw not one thing out of the ordinary. Glancing down, Thorin furrowed his brows as he knelt down. The parchment was crisp, he could smell that the ink was still drying as he carefully looked around once more before shutting the door. 

“What is it?” You questioned, slowly sliding out of bed to see what the letter was. 

“Heir to the Erebor Pack, I request your presence in Bree. I believe we share the same interests, those being one to reclaim a homeland from a dragon.” You mumbled out loud as Thorin re-read the words over and over. 

“Who could’ve sent this?” Thorin questioned, examining the paper to try and see if there was anything distinctive on who wrote it or where it came from. 

Before you could respond, Thorin’s eyes widened as he tossed the paper away from him, it getting engulfed in a blue flame until only a single piece of the parchment remained. 

“The Prancing Pony,” it spelled out in blue ink, the smell of magic in the air as Thorin narrowed his eyes. 

“Gandalf The Grey…” He hummed, now curious as to why Gandalf would suddenly contact him about reclaiming his homeland. 

“Are you going to go?” You questioned causing Thorin to look over at you. Thorin slowly dragged his eyes away, his mind pondering the possibilities of whether or not to leave. Go to Bree, leave you behind for almost a year, or stay with you, in bliss. 

Seeing his struggle you gave a smile. Hugging him, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“Don’t worry about me, Thorin, I know how much your homeland must mean to you, and if this could possibly be a way to reclaim it… then I want you to do it,” Your smile never faded although Thorin saw it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were devastated that he would leave you for so long, but you knew it was what he needed to do.

“May I take you with me?”

.

The Prancing Pony was bustling with activity when the two of you arrived, the sounds of drunken laughter filling the air as you and Thorin checked in for the night. 

“I think I’m going to go warm up for a bit,” You told Thorin as a shiver wracked through you. The two of you arrived just when a thunderstorm hit, drenching you two in minutes. 

Thorin pressed a kiss to your temple with a nod, “I will come join you after this meeting is over,” He reassured you as you walked up the stairs to your suite, his eyes never leaving your form until he picked up on the sound of you shutting the suite door and locking it. 

Scanning the room, Thorin settled on a small table, resting his sword against it as he sat down, a relieved breath almost leaving him as his legs got to rest after so long. 

Not too long after, the barmaid brings Thorin an ale mug and a plate of food. “Ah, thank you,” He nodded politely, a small smile on his face as the woman nodded in response, “Enjoy your meal, sir,” She responded before leaving Thorin with his thoughts.

Wizards are odd creatures, never truly giving you an answer when you ask for one and never giving you a full explanation if you did get an answer. ‘Hopefully, I receive answers’ Thorin thought before sensing eyes on him. 

Cautiously setting down his bread, Thorin glanced to his right to see a lanky man with a sword on his back glaring at him. The man slowly got out of his seat and started toward Thorin. Glancing to his left, Thorin saw another man get up from his seat to approach him, this one larger and more round. 

Clenching his jaw, Thorin gripped onto his sword, waiting for a fight to break out when all of the sudden an elderly man sat across from him. 

“Mind if I join you?” He asked with a knowing smile, the two men going back to their seats causing Thorin to let go of his sword. 

Before Thorin could say anything, the man called for the barmaid, “I’ll order the same,” He grinned at her before settling his eyes back on Thorin. 

“I should introduce myself, my name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.”

“I know who you are, you sent me this,” Thorin pulled out the blue inked paper from a pocket inside his coat.

“I did indeed,” Gandalf hummed as the barmaid brought the food and drink to him. “Thank you,” He mumbled before ripping off a piece of bread. 

“I am troubled, Thorin Oakenshield, deeply troubled,” Gandalf began, shoving the bread in his mouth with a look on his face that showed he was pondering his next words. 

“About?” Thorin chimed, his attention being grabbed by those simple words. 

“Dark minds have turned their thoughts towards the lands of Erebor,” Gandalf tilted his head slightly, a glint in his eye from the fire that was lit in the corner. 

“Not only that, but I ran into some rather unsavory characters on my journey here and I discovered something that you would be rather interested in…” Gandalf pulled out a scroll, unrolling it across the table.

“What is this?”

“This, is Black Speech,” Gandalf hummed seemingly unbothered as Thorin began to fill with unease and dread.

“It is a promise of payment, Thorin.”

“Payment for what?” 

“For your head.” 

Thorin began to taste something sour in his mouth, a glare forming on his face. 

“Someone wants you dead Thorin, you can wait no longer. You must march upon that mountain and take your homeland back.” Gandalf demanded yet his face remained soft, like a kind grandfather giving you advice on something simple like cutting an apple. 

“My homeland was taken by Smaug the Terrible, my pack members engulfed in flames along with our home, it’s an impossible task that you ask of me,” 

“What if I were to help you reclaim it?” Gandalf asked as Thorin went still. 

“How?”

Hours passed by, the plan seemingly perfectly made as Thorin bid Gandalf a goodnight, heading up the stairs to find you. 

Following your scent, Thorin lightly knocked on the door. “Who is it?” You called, your voice causing a smile to form on Thorin’s face. “It’s me, my love,” He grinned wider as he heard your footsteps move you across the room. 

“Must’ve been some meeting,” You stated as you opened the door. You were already in your sleeping clothes, having taken a warm bath and ordered some soup long ago. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we’d take so long,” Thorin apologized, bringing you into his arms as his nose ran up the column of your neck, your scent filling his nostrils. 

Humming in response, you dragged your nails through his hair, “It’s fine Thorin, just go bathe and come to bed,” You kissed the top of his head before wrinkling your nose.

“What?”

“You smell like a wet dog,”

Cue the Durin pout.

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