Chapter Text
After Smaug had been shot into the lake and no longer gave us the courtesy of nearly incinerating whoever crossed his path, it did not take long for me to realize how cold Erebor truly was. In the daytime I took as much time outside as was afforded to me between hushed conversations and searches for the Arkenstone, for the sun at least warmed my back slightly against the winds.
The cold seemed to permeate every crack and crevice in the maze of stone and gold, and compared to my friends who seemed to have much thicker skin, I grew cold. At night there was no salvation, and the cold seemed to flood my senses entirely. On the rare occasions where Thorin slept, he laid close to me, and I would envelop myself in his warmth. He ran hot, I ran cold, and often he would hold my hands in his, and sometimes make a comment on how they were cold as ice. This was our routine, glances exchanged and lingering touches when we thought no one could see. They didn’t care, the others, but there was little time to truly be alone.
Tonight I had thrown my coat over me in an attempt to seal more heat in, and Thorin took full advantage of the situation, throwing his ornate cloak over the pair of us and immediately cozying up. His hands quickly found mine, and as expected I felt him frown against my neck, murmuring “You’re freezing”, before changing his direction to my sides, smoothing down my shirt over my figure as his warmth slowly engulfed me.
“You are equal in beauty. How lucky am I, to have my Heart of the Mountain here with me.”
We stared at each other, and I was unsure of how to respond. This new situation was confusing, but exciting nonetheless. The Arkenstone was nowhere to be found and I was evidently its replacement. He doted on me, was kind and warm and reassuring, but still he was obsessive, pulling me aside from the company all the while musing on how glad he was for me to be here in Erebor.
I couldn't deny that I enjoyed the preening. In between scouring the grand halls and collapsed passageways, Thorin would pull me into a corridor, or under a crumbling arch, a rolling hunger in his eyes. I often felt that I could drown in them, those eyes that seemed to darken even in the midday sun.
I awoke to find Thorin standing and watching me, our eyes met and the coat I wore suddenly felt harsh and cold. I shuddered, blinked a few times, and Thorin approached me, kneeling by my side, his hair blocking the torchlight in a dark curtain. A hand reached out and smoothed my hair out of my eyes.
“Come with me.” He said, directed, firm but quiet to not wake the others. When I didn’t respond at first, he made a small gesture with his head, as if telling me to hurry up. And I did, wrapping myself in an old shawl we had found in one of Erebor’s many rooms. I tried not to think of who it belonged to, as we had passed rooms and passageways that were now mass graves, but I silently thanked whoever it was for the ability to stay warm in this place.
I walked next to him as we maneuvered through Erebor in the dark, lit by one torch that made every piece of crumbling architecture seem monstrous. Normally I’d end up following Thorin’s quick strides by a pace behind, as almost everyone did, but tonight I walked these halls as his equal. We went down so many flights of stairs that I lost count, passed through the giant halls that were once Smaug’s nest of gold, and down more hallways still, until finally, Thorin had found his destination. When we ducked behind a fallen column and into what seemed like a normal room, I understood why he wanted me here.
Some gold had made it into the floor of this room, the warm light reflecting off of the torch that was now in a sconce. But the construction and shape of the room was unremarkable, compared to what was inside. Perhaps it was meant to be a workshop of some kind, but the walls practically dripped with jewels, hanging from metal fixtures and held in tools from the moment they were abandoned, casting endless prisms across everything. I found myself unable to breathe properly, the display of color and light leaving me winded. In my peripheral vision I could see Thorin glance at the jewels, then at me, then back at the jewels, a grin on his face.
“This is the pride of our people. The beauty we make from the earth, Bram. This…this is what all of it has been for…”
I turned around in awe, holding out a hand as the array of colors danced across it. Reds, golds, purples, blues, all scattered about the room as if a thousand rainbows had suddenly been concentrated into a collection of chipped gemstones and metal. Love itself seemed to exist here, in this little pocket of beauty. I took a few steps forward, drawn to something that was meant to be a pendant, abandoned on what must have been a work desk. A clear gem, it wasn’t fully cut to size, and the fine dust and fragments still remained around it, a testament to how quickly everything had been abandoned. Without thinking to ask, I gingerly traced over the crystal’s surface, the silver chain limp beside it.
Suddenly I felt a presence behind me, and Thorin’s hand quickly covered mine, picking up the crystal, holding up in the light. Blue light splashed onto his face, shining across the high lines of his face, and his eyes seemed brighter than ever.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked first-” I began, although he did not look upset, instead thoughtful.
“Do you like this?” He asked, his voice a whisper and yet it somehow seemed louder than anything I had said, taking up all the space in the room. It was not a demand but it felt like one - if I did not like the jewelry, he would make sure I did.
Lucky for both of us, I was taken with the gem, and I told him so. He grinned.
“When the mountain is secured, I will see to it that this piece is finished to your liking.” He said, and drew the chain around my neck, the gem sitting perfectly in the middle of my collarbones, cold and shimmering against my skin.