Forest Gold is a story prompted by @tacosockos’s ask. Thank you very much! I hope you’ll like the story as much as I did when I was writing it!
Relationships:Thorin x Reader
Rating:T
Warnings:none
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Forest Gold
The warm sun shone through the canopy of tall pine trees, its rays illuminating the path before you. It was a summer morning, just after dawn, and you were walking through the forest at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Looking around, you admired its natural ancient beauty, the softness of the moss beneath your feet, and enjoyed every breath of the cool, fresh air. Since you arrived in Middle Earth on a stormy night several months ago in mysterious circumstances, you still marveled at how unspoiled the nature in Rhovanion was. No pollution, no empty beer cans in the forests, no cigarette butts, no engine noises. Instead, there were crystal-clear rivers and lakes, plenty of animals everywhere you looked and the lush greenery. Never before have you seen so many shades of green. The newly sprouted blades of grass, the majestic ferns by a creek in the backwoods or the reeds growing by the Long Lake near the city of Esgaroth that was being slowly rebuilt.
Your path led you to a bank of a forest stream. You smiled widely, seeing a glimpse of gold among the grass. There they were! You looked around. Yes, this was a perfect spot for what you had in mind. You rested your travelling gear against the trunk of a nearby tree and approached the patch of wildflowers growing in the watery ground at the edge of the stream, their yellow, almost golden petals seemingly shining with the light of their own. The people of Dale called them “kingcups” and used this plant for medicinal purposes. That is why you came here, at least partially. You promised a local healer to bring her some of these plants. But you had also another idea on your mind.
It took you a while to gather enough flowers to fill your basket. Your boots were a bit soaked, but it was worth it. Your eyes quickly found a patch of grass and your hands started picking out the flower heads and arranging them in a spiral shape on the ground. This was something you used to do with your grandmother in her garden. She’d often say these flower mandalas would draw fairies to them, and if you ever were to meet one, this magical creature would fulfill your wish. You have grown out from believing in fairies years ago, but your habit stayed with you, fueling your creativity. Back home, you’d sometimes make a picture of the finished mandala and upload it to your Instagram, sharing your art with the wide world. You didn’t need much to create art. Nature provided everything you needed.
Humming a half-forgotten song from your childhood as you finished arranging the flowers, you suddenly heard a sound of a snapping branch. Someone was coming. As quickly as you could, you gathered your things and hid in the nearby bushes. The local people warned you against strangers in these parts. After the great Battle of Five Armies that happened over a year ago, a constant stream of travelers flowed into Rhovanion. Those newcomers were searching for better life, but there were brigands among them, too.
Someone entered the clearing in a few long strides. He wasn’t tall, but his posture emanated power and strength. Dark, wavy mane of hair cascaded down his wide shoulders. His bearded face was focused on the surroundings. Judging from the clothes and the bow he held in his hands, he had to be a hunter. And… a dwarf. This was the first dwarf you saw from such a close distance. You heard much about these proud people and their great kingdom of Erebor that was currently being rebuilt, but you had never even talked with one before.
The dwarven hunter took a few steps towards your hideout. A pair of deep-set eyes scanned the area. You held your breath and crouched lower among the bushes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you. As he turned to his left, his gaze fell on your golden flower mandala. After approaching it, he studied it carefully and then took one of the flowers, bringing it to his nose. As he did so, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You blinked in disbelief. Weren’t the dwarves supposed to be underground folk, loving only stone, metals and precious gems? The last thing you expected today was to see a dwarf enjoying the smell of a delicate forest flower. A flower you arranged yourself.
“Hey! Leave my flowers alone!” you heard your own voice.
In a blink of an eye, he turned to you, his bow aimed at you. Or rather, at your hideout. You muttered a curse. Brilliant, just brilliant.
“Reveal yourself!” You heard his deep voice. So that was how a dwarf sounded like. You had to admit to yourself that hearing him speak made you think of molten dark chocolate, rich and full-flavoured.
You decided not to make a move. The last thing you wanted to do was to be shot by his arrow. It looked kinda… sharp. And something told you that this hunter had a good aim. A sigh escaped your lips. You just had to stay still. Maybe he’d leave you in peace. Maybe. Yeah, right.
“I mean you no harm. You can come out now. I have already put my bow away,” his words reached you. The way he spoke made you think of a horse whisperer trying to calm down a startled steed.
Feeling the taste of defeat in your mouth, you reluctantly came out from your hideout.
“I thought you were a bandit, Master Dwarf,” you admitted. Now, when you had the chance to take a better look at him, you could clearly see that he didn’t look like a brigand at all. His weapons and clothes were of good quality, and he wore several rings on his strong hands. Those rings definitely weren’t trinkets bought at a village fair. The dwarf looked more like a proud, ancient warrior than anything else.
“There are no bandits in the forests of the Lonely Mountain, my lady,” he shook his head. You heard the jingling of the silver beads in his hair, sunrays dancing among them. A peculiar thought appeared in your mind. What would be like to run your hand through this rich mane of hair? It looked so soft… Would he let you make a braid? Just like the ones that hung from his temples, falling all the way to his chest. You felt your cheeks burning up. What on earth made you think of such things about an unknown dwarf you’ve just met?
“I’m not a lady,” you stated. You’ve never been called a lady before, and especially not by a courteous dwarf.
“Who are you then?” his brilliant blue eyes set on your face. “A forest fairy protecting her magic circle?”
The dwarf pointed at your flower mandala.
You chuckled, “There’s nothing magical about my flower art. It’s meant to be looked at and enjoyed.”
“Are you sure?” he tilted his head and took a step towards you. Your eyes moved upwards, sliding along the intricate embroideries on his tunic hugging against the deep contours of his chest. The garment revealed a small patch of tanned skin at his throat, emphasizing his muscular neck. His strongly defined jaw was covered with a lush beard that hid a surprisingly soft line of his lips. The patrician nose set above it made you think of the gigantic dwarven sculptures that guarded the entrance to the kingdom of Erebor. And then there were his eyes, those twin mysterious cerulean pools that kept on searching your face. “There is an old legend among my people about the forests of the Lonely Mountain. They say that you can sometimes find a flower fairy ring here. If the time is right, its magic will take you wherever your heart longs to go.”
“It is a beautiful legend, but that’s all there is to it. An old tale,” you replied. Even a baby knew that there was no such thing as magic. And no, the way you arrived to this new, wonderous world had nothing to do with magic whatsoever. You were sure that science could explain it well. Perhaps a lightning struck too close to you that night, and there was a shift in the magnetic fields, and this was simply a parallel universe or…
A chuckle brought you back to reality.
“As you wish, my lady. Forgive me my manners, this unexpected meeting made me forget them completely,” he made a courteous bow. “My name is Thorin. May I ask how I should address you?”
You gulped. Your name was too unusual and too modern for this place. If the dwarf heard it, it would happen just like it did in Esgaroth and several other places. The locals weren’t fond of weird strangers. There would be strange looks, prying questions and tons of suspicion. Somehow, you didn’t want the majestic dwarf in front of you to look at you the way they did. You had to think of something.
“My name… Wait, did you say Thorin? As in Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain?!” even you, a newcomer to Middle Earth, heard about the dwarven king who led a bold charge against the Orc and Warg armies and defeated them, taking the life of their leader, Azog.
“These are just titles. Here, today, in the forest, I’m just Thorin, my lady without a name,” he smiled, but you could see a shadow passing his eyes, fleeting and deep.
Your mind barely registered his gaze, busy processing the current situation. You, a girl from far, far away, were standing in the presence of a real king! And a dwarf! What were you supposed to do? Bow? Curtsy? Call him “your majesty”? Or was it “your highness”? No, he said he was “just Thorin”. Pheew. But were you allowed to sit down in his presence? Or speak without being asked to? Oh, wait, he asked you a question and you haven’t answered it yet!
“I come from a faraway land. My name may sound alien to you and… and difficult to pronounce!” you blurted out.
“Would you allow me to call you Kingcup, my lady? Like these golden flowers?” his eyes traveled to the mandala you created on the ground.
“Kingcup…” you whispered to yourself, looking at the flower petals glistening in the sun.
“These flowers… We call them ‘forest gold’. Small and delicate, but sturdy. They run through the woods like veins of gold through the stone. And their reflections in water make forest streams look like molten gold,” his voice washed over you like smoothest silk.
“I think I can live with a name like that,” you smiled shyly at him.
“You do me a great honor, lady Kingcup,” his voice deepened, rumbling in his chest.
“I told you, king Thorin, I’m not a lady.”
“If you are not a lady then I am not a king,” he stated, responding to your smile with an amused glint in his eye.
“Sounds fair to me… Thorin,” you whispered his name, barely able to look into his eyes, hoping he would not mind your casual way of speaking to the king of the famous dwarven kingdom. He nodded in return.
“Since we are properly introduced now, may I invite you for breakfast? I must admit I haven’t eaten today yet and my friend Bombur, a brilliant cook, prepared some delicious scones with cheese for the road. I will gladly share them with you.”
The thought of a meal made your stomach rumble and you agreed almost instantly. The breakfast turned into a brunch when you discovered that you both were well equipped with delicious food. While you ate, you talked about everything and nothing; you were curious about Erebor, and Thorin asked about your recent travels through Rhovanion. You even shared a few amusing anecdotes from your lives and you quickly forgot you were spending time in the company of a king. To be honest, it felt as if you’d known each other for ages, sharing several interests, including the love of nature, both above and below ground.
“So you say that the dwarves think gold is the most precious metal?” you swallowed the last bite of smoked cheese.
“A metal worthy of kings,” Thorin nodded, taking a sip from his water bag.
“What about forest gold?” you gestured towards the flowers in your basket, the ones that you gathered in the morning.
“It is the most precious part of the forest… Kingcup…” his glittering blue eyes traveled to your face and you had to look away. Did he mean the flowers…. Or…?
“Close your eyes, please,” you said suddenly, a new and crazy idea popping in your head.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you close your eyes, I’ll show you the treasure of the forest,” you grinned mischievously. “It will just take a moment. Please?”
Apparently Thorin couldn’t say no to the pleading look on your face and capitulated. You reached towards the basket and soon your hands were working swiftly, binding the flowers together.
“Can I look now?” he asked, his back resting against the tree behind him.
“Patience,” you giggled. Your new “work of art” was ready. You moved towards Thorin and placed the golden flower crown on his temple. Your hand brushed against his hair. It was pleasantly soft under your touch. As you took a breath, a smell of pine needles, bonfire smoke and leather surrounded you. You expected a mighty king to smell like precious oils and heavy, exotic flower essences. Instead, his scent was simple, raw, and manly, and quickly went to your head. Looking at his calm features, all the worries gone from his handsome face, you almost missed the moment when he opened his eyes. You were kneeling next to him, your hands resting at his temples along with the flower crown. His face was surprisingly close to yours. You felt the warmth of his body and could almost brush your nose against his. Uh-oh. You swallowed. He blinked.
“What do we have here?” he cast a half-lidded glance at you and moved his hands to his head.
“Something worthy of a king. The golden crown of the forest,” you chuckled, recalling your idea, and desperately trying to forget the way his skin brushed against yours as he reached for the flower crown, and the pleasant sensation you felt. “No, no, don’t take it off! Come with me!”
You got up and quickly marched to the edge of the stream. Thorin joined you after a few moments.
“You are not going to drown me, are you?” he raised one of his dark eyebrows suspiciously, a smile dancing on his lips. It suited him well.
“It depends on how you are going to react to my gift!” you giggled. “Now, look into the water and tell me what you think!”
“It is truly a golden crown,” the dwarven king stared into his reflection in the stream and chuckled. “Who would have thought that the forest was full of such riches? I thank you kindly for this generous gift, Kingcup.”
“You like it? What a relief! I don’t have to drown you, then. All is well!” you grinned and then both of you burst out in laughter. Somehow, it felt good laughing beside him. It felt right.
“And to think such a treasure came from under your skilled fingers! I have been lucky to have met you here today. You are magical indeed, just like your fairy ring,” he winked at you, looking more like a playful young dwarf than a king.
“I tell you, this is just a flower arrangement, not a magical place!” you protested.
“There is only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he smirked and reached out his hand to you.
“Very well,” you agreed with a sigh and placed your hand in his. He squeezed it gently but reassuringly, smiling at you, as you both stepped inside your golden flower mandala.
There was a splash of emotion in his eyes when he said, “Let us see where your magic takes us.”
You barely managed to close your eyes when a warm breath of wind caressed your face and suddenly you felt dizzy. A sensation of falling flooded your senses. A few heartbeats later everything stopped. In the surrounding silence, you could only hear your and Thorin quickened breaths. You still felt how warm his skin was, his fingers wrapped around your palms.
“Is it done?” you asked, not daring to open your eyes yet.
“It is. Your magic is truly astonishing,” Thorin replied, and you recognized notes of admiration in his voice.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his face. He was smiling, and there was something new in his expression; something that you couldn’t decipher.
And then you looked around.
“But we’re still in the same place!” you exclaimed. “It was just as I told you, there is no magic here.”
“Ah but there is. Your magic,” he looked at you expectantly, his features softening.
“My… magic?” you frowned. What did he mean by that? And why did he close the distance between you? Oh, and why did he raise your hand to his lips, kissing it reverently? By the way, his lips turned out to be even softer than you imagined, and even warmer, almost scorching.
“Your magic worked perfectly well,” he murmured huskily, his breath fanning the delicate skin on the back of your hand. “It brought me to the place my heart longed to be, sweet Kingcup.”
“And where is that?” you whispered back, trying to find the answer in the bottomless depths of his cerulean eyes. And then you heard his voice.
“By the side of my forest queen.”
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Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this story!
Fed up with the tediousness of the crypt like feel of your clan’s mountain home you had snuck through the gates unaccompanied. The forest had often proved your friend. The quiet solitude away from the complaints and constant buzz of activity of your fellow clansmen (clanspeople?) and surrounded by only the comings and goings of the woodland creatures and insects allowed you to unwind.
Travelling down the narrow path to your favourite spot that led to a small babbling brook you noticed that the path had been travelled recently. The brush had been damaged, the wild flora trampled. It was unusual as the path was hidden, unknown to most occupants of the mountain. You made a note to be weary of anything suspicious but continued on your way.
After a pleasant walk you found yourself at the small brook. Signs of a large, abandoned campsite were scattered around the clearing surrounding the stream. Yet you found nobody there and made yourself comfortable at a distance to the leftover clutter. Unpacking your small satchel, you began to fetch your lunch when a glint caught your eye. Surprised you crawled forward on your knees and retrieved the object from the river.
A pendant sat in your palm, the gold chain and pendant gleaming from the droplets that still clung to it from its icy bath. A ruby as red as blood was set in the middle surrounded my small runic inscriptions. Despite recognising the dwarven runes of your race you could not make out what they said. You could only guess that they were centuries old from a forgotten sub-dialect. Finding a clasp on the side you opened the pendant to find that it was in fact a locket containing a new family portrait. A family of five was proudly posed in the portrait and you stopped to admire the eldest son. He was rather regal and handsome. You blushed and scolded yourself at your snooping, though it did nothing to quell your heightened excitement of finding the lockets owner. Quickly gathering up your belongings you slipped the antique pendant securely in your bag and rushed back to your kingdom to find out as much as you could about the newfound treasure and the occupants of the camp.
It turned out that a small group of dwarves from the newly lost kingdom of Erebor had sought out the safety and aid of (Y/K/N) as they continued their search of a new home. How you had missed such news you did not know. You were excited and disappointed in equal measures. Learning about where such a treasure had come from thrilled you and yet you felt guilty in being unable to return such a valuable and likely prized possession to its owner, especially one who likely had lost most of their possessions in the Sack of Erebor. Alas, all you could do for the time was keep the antique prize safe.
You had followed the news that flowed into (Y/K/N) of the Ereborian refugees for several years since you had come across the pendant. The dwarves had finally settled in the Blue Mountains, their leader Thorin carving them out new halls. Thorin’s halls were said to be much more modest than the riches that the Long Beards had once been accustomed to. Though you supposed after all this time they were relieved to have finally found a place to settle.
Deciding that you had held onto the possession for long enough you decided to make the trek to the Blue Mountains with a caravan of traders from your kingdom who were headed there. There was safety in numbers, and you were far too timid, and perhaps smart, to travel the roads on your own. Your companions proved friendly enough and made sure to make you feel included amongst their ranks, something you deeply appreciated.
However, after a month of travel you were relieved to set your sights upon the Blue Mountain settlement. It had been a long and tiring journey as you were unused to such conditions or lengths of travel. Unsure of where to start you decided to accompany your companions to Thorin’s halls. You were unsure of who would greet you but were hopeful that they could perhaps recognise one of the dwarves in the portrait.
A kindly dwarf who was getting on in his years greeted you and took a log of the merchants and their goods. Having introduced himself as Balin, friend and aide to Thorin Oakenshield, you knew that he would be a good person to ask about the locket. So, once the formalities were finished and the merchants had begun to disperse you approached him.
“Forgive me Balin, my name is (Y/N). I travelled here with the caravan from (Y/K/N). Many years ago, I found a locket in a campsite near to our mountain and was told that it likely came from one of your people. There is a portrait in the locket, and I was hoping that you may recognise the family” you politely questioned. Balin looked surprised, “You are very kind to have travelled such a journey to try and find the owner. I would be happy to help. Show me the image and I will try to help.”
Retrieving the locket from a secure pocket in your pack you unclasped it and gestured for Balin to take. Upon casting his eyes upon it the elderly darrows eyes bulged. “I do not have to see the portrait to know who this belongs to” Balin breathlessly spoke, “Follow me.” With that he turned and began too hastily pace away. Left with the locket in your hand and your pack undone you quickly gathered your things together and raced after him.
After rushing down several long hallways Balin came to a stop at a large door. Knocking heavily on the door he did not pause to hear the answer before he pushed it open and gestured you inside. You found a darrow sat at a large desk pouring over some maps, though he had paused to look at the two of you. Though he had aged slightly since the drawing had been done, you recognised the darrow as the eldest son in the locket.
“This dam has found something of yours and has come all the way from (Y/K/N) to return it Thorin” Balin grinned. Thorin. As in the Prince of the sacked kingdom. Mahal. You stepped forward timidly under the intense stare of the darrow. Reaching into your pocket you pulled the locket out and stretched it out towards him. “I found this in a brook outside of (Y/K/N) not long after your people had passed through. I felt guilty holding onto it as it looked like a family heirloom, so I travelled here to return it to the owner not realising it was yours my prince. Balin was the one who recognised that you were the owner.”
Thorin, who had risen from his desk and made his way over to the pair of you, carefully took it from your hand brow furrowed. “What do you want for it? Surely you did not do this from the kindness of your heart” Thorin interrogated cautiously. “I only ask that I may have a dry place to sleep until I can return with the merchants home” you asked sincerely. Thorin taken aback by your answer nodded. “Very well, you will stay with my family in our home.”
Imagine deciding to take Bilbo back home after Thorin’s outburst…
You quietly rolled up the blanket and fastened it with a strap on top of your backpack. Turning around, you saw Bilbo pick up his walking stick and nod to himself as if agreeing that this was the best decision. A part of you didn’t want to leave this adventure so soon but you too had grown tired of the company’s ill treatment of your friend.
Particularly Thorin.
The leader of the dwarf group had made it clear on several occasions that the less-experienced Hobbit didn’t belong with them. After the stress with trolls and more recently, Stone Giants, everyone was on edge. But Thorin once again had snapped at Bilbo for slipping off the edge of the rock face.
That was the last straw for you.
Once the company had fallen asleep, you approached Bilbo and he confided in you that perhaps Thorin was right. With Bilbo’s hope barely visible, you planned to leave that night. A plan that would have worked perfectly if Bofur wasn’t on guard duty.
“Where are you both off to?” He asked quickly, quite shocked with the pair all dressed up.
Bilbo fell silent, not sure what to say but you adjusted the strap on your shoulder. “I’m taking him home.”
“What? Why?”
“Thorin was right. I should never have come.” Bilbo told the kind dwarf.
Imagine series > Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (coming soon)
Which Tolkien characters would date a Gardener/Botanist
This is so self indulgent I’m sorry. Also tagging @beenovel because I think they like Botany too and I love them(surprise babe I got it done tonight ha)
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Sam
I mean, duh. Sam’s a gardener himself and basically the only working class Hobbit of the bunch, he would probably be ecstatic about having a fellow plant nerd with him. And it also helps that you’re really pretty but shhhh. You’d help him so much during his daily life - telling him all about proper plant care that even he didn’t know and introducing him to new species of plants that he can show Mr Frodo. You gave him some sunscreen once (because God knows we need that) and he still thanks you to this day for it. 100% leaves hints for you using the language of flowers, hoping the roses he gives you will say what he never dares to.
Frodo
Listen,, Frodo has a thing for gardeners. I can’t prove it, but you can’t disprove it either. Check mate. But in all seriousness, I can totally see him falling for a plant parent. Just imagine him watching you and his beloved Sam talk about plants together with the biggest darn heart eyes the Shire’s ever seen. Being the cute little nerd he is, he’d ask all about the meaning of different plants as a subtle way to communicate his feelings. He’s sweet like that.
Aragorn
He’d definitely be more into the field botanist type of plant nerd. Someone who can identify which plants are which, what not to eat and what tastes delicious. For instance, he was very thankful that you reminded him that creeping charlie is toxic to horses before he almost poisoned poor Brego. Sometimes, when you’re rattling off plant facts, he can’t help himself and kisses you for being so clever. At first he saw you as a wonderful traveling partner but that definitely develops into something more over time
Thranduil
Okay just hear me out. Mirkwood is so pretty and you cannot tell me they have interesting beautiful flora in there. Imagine a field botanist wandering into his lands and getting their ass kindly handed to them by the giant spiders (yikes) only to be saved by the Elven King himself.. who then makes them his personal gardener. That’s a fic I’d read in a heartbeat. He’d get only the finest seeds and bulbs for his darling little plant enthusiast, especially when his feelings grow stronger. Totally makes you cover up because he doesn’t want your “pretty little face getting sunburned”. He much prefers to make you red in other ways
Legolas
Like father like son. But, of course, he’s a little different about it. You want to go out foraging and studying? He’s right out there with you! Elves are in touch with nature in a way us Humans can’t even comprehend - that’s a field day for plant lovers. He probably knows all about plants himself, and would happily tell you all about the Elven uses and folklore of your favorite Flora. He’d be absolutely fascinated to hear about the human side of that too. He’ll protect you out on your little research expeditions and practically beg you to tell him all about plants. Match made in heaven.
Thorin
I know this seems weird, but listen. This is the dwarf who (clearly, in my opinion) fell in love with Bilbo flipping Baggins. I’m convinced he has a thing for cottagecore icons. I know it in my heart. A botanist would probably have a hell of a time figuring out what plants can grow best in Erebor’s mountain soil. And yes, he’d comfort you when you feel like ripping your hair out trying to do that haha. Absolutely sets apart an entire outdoor area for your little garden. He’d probably give you a window room (aside from his chambers ) so you can grow some indoor plants too.
Beorn
We’ve seen this man’s house in the movies. He wouldadore a gardener partner. He takes care of the animals and livestock, you take care of the blooms. He takes you out on rides around the forest, you sitting on his back while he’s in bear form, perfectly content to listen to you ramble away about the different kinds of trees. Beorn is very impressed that you know so much about plants. And if herbal medicine is your thing, that’d certainly come in handy with all the cuts he gets driving off orcs. Seeing you take care of him like that is actually a tad flustering, though he resolves to fluster you right back to hide the peachiness in his own face. You two likely met because he saw you checking out the plants around his territory, but he saw you meant no harm (and that you were cute) so you two became friends (and soon partners) very quick.
I never see anyone talk about how Thorin has just accepted the fact that he’ll never have an heir of his own, from the beginning of the movies (because I still haven’t procured a copy of the book yet, and book canon must always be treated more or less separate from movie canon). He says stuff to Fili like, “When you become king…” as though he won’t ever father a child to take over after him. Unless I missed some dwarven cultural thing where Fili would actually be the heir either way, I can’t be the only one who thinks this is odd (and really sad), right? Okay, now I’m starting to doubt myself and wonder if I really did miss something. Whatever, I’m gonna keep explaining my thoughts on this.
There’s almost no reason I can see that Thorin would be so sure he’d never father an heir. He’s still rather young, and he’s certainly attractive enough to find a lover. I can think of only four (potentially five) possibilities:
Thorin is gay (which I know would make many shippers happy)
Thorin is asexual
Thorin does not deem himself worthy of love or otherwise finds faults within himself that he believes would drive love away
Similar to the last one, Thorin doesn’t believe in love, for lack of a better way to phrase it, or he just doesn’t believe he’ll ever personally find it
Now, #3 and #4 could combine to make: Thorin doesn’t believe he could ever settle down and/or start/have a family. This could potentially be a fifth possibility, but seeing as it’s more of a combination of two of the already listed possibilities, I wouldn’t consider it to be a separate/additional one.
Now, time for me to explain some of my ruled out possibilities, which you are more than welcome to argue in favor of. I am, of course, not the end all, be all voice on this matter, and I may very well be mistaken about some of this.
One of my first thoughts had been that maybe Thorin is just a restless soul, wants to keep being out there, in the world, fighting. He wouldn’t/couldn’t slow down for love. But he was ready to take up a position as king. A lot more work is involved with being king than a surprising amount of people seem to realize. You sort of have to settle down for that kind of position, and he was already prepared to do so, more or less.
Speaking of being prepared to take up his position as king, you cannotconvince me that Thorin believed he wouldn’t survive the journey (though I welcome you to try). He wouldn’t prepare himself for the eventuality of taking the throne if he didn’t believe he’d get that far. And there was no way for him to know that he would die, anyway. He literally had no reason to believe this.
An extension of that, however, that I really did consider, is that maybe he believed he wouldn’t survive very long after assuming the throne. This could actually hold a little weight. However, I have one issue with this: Why? Why would he believe this? Literally the most dangerous part of his life, dealing with a dragon, would have passed by that point. He’s a capable fighter and fairly intelligent, so I don’t believe he would be worried about assassination attempts. Not to mention, his grandfather went gold crazy, which probably made him an insufferable king for his subjects, but he was never assassinated. So, what would cause an abrupt end to his life after he assumed the throne? I did stop to consider that maybe he had a terminal illness or something, but I highly doubt that for multiple reasons that I believe to be evident, so I won’t waste time elaborating.
One final consideration of mine is that Thorin knew (or believed) in the back of his mind, no matter how much he told himself and others, “I am not my (grand)father,” that he would succumb to dragon sickness. This one is actually immensely believable, and I haven’t entirely ruled it out. I don’t think I even need to explain this one all that much. Part of why it isn’t included in the four possibilities listed above is because I felt like it could be considered a/the cause of #3 and/or the second part of #4, both of which are basically my elaboration on this one. If he succumbed to the dragon sickness, it would be an understandable reason to find yourself unworthy of love (#3). And as a greedy, dragon sick king, you’re unlikely to find real love, partially because you care more for gold than other people but also because, as harsh as it sounds, not very many people would enjoy your company that much as a result (second part of #4). I think it sort of goes without saying, anyway, that dragon sickness is, for one reason or another, not very conducive to love or lovers. I’m sure we can all agree on that.
That’s about all I have for this topic at the moment. If I think of anything else, I might edit this or reblog it or something. Maybe I’m just overthinking this, and he’s actually training Fili as a “just in case.” Regardless, I’d love to see what you think, especially if you have something to add. Agree? Disagree? Let me know! (Especially if I really did just miss a dwarven cultural thing. Yeesh, would that be embarrassing after I already typed this all out.) With that, be safe, and have a great day/night/afternoon/evening!
I’ve just stumbled upon your awesome post @characterdevelopmentmakesmenut and, as a certified Thorin simp, I decided that I would add a word or two.
There are a few factors we have to remember when thinking about Thorin and his views on having direct heirs. I hope you don’t mind me fleshing out some of your ideas and adding a few of mine – maybe some kind soul would get inspired and write a beautiful fic based on some of those possibilities!
1. First, Dwarves as a race at the time of The Hobbit have some problems when it comes to having babies. Tolkien hints at low birth rates and writes that there is only one Dwarf-woman per three Dwarves, and many of the women choose not to marry (see below). So, it means that a very small number of Dwarves actually have children. Many fic writers follow the headcanon that because of this fact children are very precious in the dwarven culture, and I agree with it.
Possibility: even if Thorin had a wife at some point of his life (Tolkien never says a word about it AFAIR), they could have simply never been lucky enough to conceive.
2. So, why would many Dwarf-women refuse marrying and having children? Tolkien writes that many Dwarves (of any gender) feel a strong devotion to their chosen craft (something they got from Aule/Mahal no doubt). It means so much to them that they don’t feel the need to have families and raise children, focusing on creating beautiful objects, perfecting their prowess in battle or other skills, and so on.
Possibility: Thorin felt that way too and was devoted to his “craft”. He focused on what was most important to him: his people, his duty, reclaiming his home. He could have decided that a wife and children would be a distraction or something he couldn’t allow himself during the exile for various reasons, like you said, not feeling worthy of love (or afraid of dragon sickness attacking his children), wanting love but not finding it among the few Dwarf-women he met in his life, suffering from unrequited love, and so on, or, using our understanding of the subject, we’d say he could have been asexual.
3. And speaking of sexual orientation, that’s something Tolkien never openly wrote about in his works (for reasons, also cultural and religious limitations of his times), but that’s what fanfiction is for, right? :) Especially if we take the headcanon that Dwarves are a temperamental and fiery race ;)
Possibility: Thorin could have been gay and simply choose (a) same-sex partner(s), or asexual, or preferred polyamorous relationships, or short-term “no strings attached” relationships with Dwarves of his chosen gender(s) and so on.
4. Dwarven clans and politics. Tolkien names seven dwarven clans and states that the Longbeards ruled them all because of the Arkenstone and their riches. Thorin knew that reclaiming his kingdom one day would be a difficult business and he would need lots of alliances with the other clans. As an exile, he had not much to offer as a potential husband, but as the king of Erebor he could marry with advantage for his kingdom (he seems a bit of a martyr, so duty before his own needs - an arranged marriage).
Possibility: Thorin may or may not have wanted to marry and have children but he knew for sure that he would need a political marriage once Erebor was reclaimed, preferably with a daughter of one of the other six clans to strengthen his rule, so he waited.
5. As far as we know, Tolkien “borrowed” some elements of the dwarvish culture from early European cultures (for example the Scandinavian one, based on both Eddas). It was quite common for the uncle (mother’s brother) to step in as a father figure, his position was very often more important than the father’s. In some cultures, children from a mother of royal descent are more important than children fathered by someone of royal descent. And that’s when Fili and Kili come into light (especially since their father is dead). Since children are very precious in the dwarven culture, Thorin helped Dis raise them, at least in part. They looked up to him, respected him and were groomed by him to become leaders.
Possibility: Thorin focused so much on the boys (especially if you add some other reasons to it) that he decided them to be his heirs, as sister-sons. Or they would simply be first in line to the throne anyway, as his sister’s children. Being a full-time ruler and a part-time dad could have made him sufficiently busy and fulfill many of his needs (hello, Mr Maslow, what a nice pyramid you have there) so he just wasn’t inclined to actively search for love.
6. If you feel like including the movie “canon” and fanon in this little puzzle, we can think of one more reason. Richard Armitage said in one of his interviews that he created a backstory for Thorin where the prince was in love, perhaps even engaged to some princess, but then Smaug came and she died in the mountain. Ah, the angst! Plus, if we add the concept of Dwarven Ones into the mix (aka soulmates aka Dwarves only love once), everything becomes clearer.
Possibility: Thorin loved someone dearly, but his beloved died and he was unable to love another after that.
Oh, by the way, if you’re searching for more info on the subject of Thorin and Dwarves in general, besides Thorin, you can take a look at the Lord of the Rings – Concerning Dwarves (Appendix A.III) and The Unfinished Tales – The Quest of Erebor.
