Thorin woke slowly, a broad smile making its way onto his lips as he opened his eyes and looked at the wonderous dwarrowdam that lay slumbering in his arms. Her naked body wrapped around him. Even now he could not understand how he had been lucky enough to find himself such a bride. How his one had come along when he had least expected it and changed his life. The woman in his arms now not only his wife, but also the Queen of the Mountain, his people, and the holder of his heart.

Long before the dragon had come to the home of the Durin folk, a celebration had been organised. Thorin knowing that it was mostly being done, in hopes that a suitable dwarrowdam might be found that would one day become the Queen under the Mountain; a female that would stand by Thorin's side and give him heirs so that his line would continue. The young prince not pretending that he was happy about it; that he didn't hate the notion of feeling like a piece of meat being dangled before a pack of slavering wargs; but what was he to do, it was his grandfather's wish, his father's wish. Thorin having to entertain all manner of dwarrowdams that had come from the other kingdoms. Yet when he had seen her; when she had made her way through the crowd, the world around the prince had stopped. Thorin no longer hearing the voices of the other females, no longer seeing them; his heart pushing him towards her, to the one that he knew he was meant to be with for the rest of his days. The son of Thráin stopping as he came to stand before her; his hands hesitantly reaching out to take hers. The prince hoping that she could feel the pull, too. That she could also sense that Mahal had intended for them to be together. Thorin slowly bringing her hands up to his lips and kissing them. His heart fit to burst, as she smiled at him, and she moved a little closer and looked up into his eyes. The world around them no longer existing, as the pair basked in the new love that only those that had found their one, would know. The dwarrowdam, (Y/n), his (Y/n), more perfect than he could ever have imagined; standing by his side no matter what had come. Adding him with his grandfather, when Smaug had been drawn to their home; holding his hand as they had been forced to leave the only home that Thorin had ever known, and standing with him, at the Battle of Moria. She the only one that could comfort him when the battle was over; when he was exhausted and had realised that he had lost his brother, his grandfather and that his father was nowhere to be seen. The prince.......the one that would now be king, holding her tightly as she did her best to comfort him. (Y/n) promising to never leave his side, that he would never lose her. And she had stuck by that word; being there for him when he had been little more than a humble blacksmith. There, no matter how much he had tried to protest, when the decision was made to retake the Mountain, from the last of the fire drakes. (Y/n) joining him and the rest of the Company, as they had travelled from a certain little hobbit's hole, in the Shire. His lady putting up with his gruffness, his distancing himself, and his often coldness; always telling him not to be silly when he would ask for her forgiveness, telling him that there was nothing to forgive. That she could understand everything; could understand the burden that lay heavy on his shoulders. Thorin finding some peace as she would hold him in her arms and kiss him. But there was one thing that he would never stop feeling guilty for; the thing that truly proved to him how much (Y/n) loved him, and that was how he had treated her while he was under the spell of the dragon sickness. Thorin taking to working her, as he worked to others to find the Arkenstone, taking to questioning her loyalty. But worse than that, he had accused her of knowing his nephews far better than she should. Of leaving the Mountain in the dead of night, to go and negotiate, to give herself to not only Bard, but Thranduil, too. The unspeakable accusations shocking the Company; all of them even more disgusted, when he had made her leave with Bilbo. Calling her a wench and telling her to go to her lovers.

Yet no matter how vile, no matter how awful he had been; no matter how he had treated her as if she were nothing, she had still been there when he had needed her the most. Thorin knowing that if it were not for his love's timely intervention, the despised white orc would have killed him. Yet instead of death, the pair had watched Azog fall from the side of Ravenhill. The injured husband and wife, King and Queen, holding on to one another; pleading with one another not to leave, to survive their injuries so that they could continue being together. And that........all that; everything that she had ever done for him, forgiven him for, was why he was there now, warm and in her arms.

"You are doing it again..........." A soft, sleepy voice came, pushing away the memories from his mind. Thorin's smile getting even bigger, as he moved some of her hair, back behind her ear.

"Doing what again........?"

"Watching me while I sleep. I wish you would wake me so that I can watch you too.........." (Y/n) chuckled, as she slowly opened her eyes and then placed a soft kiss to his lips.

"The sight of my husband first thing in the morning, is one of the most wonderful things in the whole of Middle-earth. The thing that makes me smile for the rest of the day......." She explained. Thorin knowing that he felt just the same. That no matter how long his day might be; no matter what affairs he may have to deal with, the thought of seeing her when he woke up, would keep him going until he was back in her arms that night. Until they were both laid in their bed, able to prove their love for one another. Thorin not saying anything, instead leaning in so that he could kiss her properly, allowing his actions to say more than his words ever could. The King under the Mountain determined to not let his queen leave their bed, until he had shown her just how much she held his heart.