Thorin leads the way along the winding paths of Rivendell's gardens, softly glowing lamps the only light apart from the crescent moon. Eventually he reached a stone bench alongside the pathway, and stops, motioning for you to sit down. You sit, the cold stone cool through the fabric of your breeches, and he sits down beside you, mere inches away.

"I thought that you would rather we had this discussion alone and undisturbed," he explained, staring at the ground, fingers knitted together.

"You thought correctly," you manage to say, heart beating fast in your chest. You feel sick, sick with love and worry and the realisation that he's here, right in front of you. That this conversation, the one you've been dreaming of for so long, is finally happening.

"First of all," he starts, "I want to apologise for yesterday." He grimaces slightly, another familiar expression.

"I didn't mean to get so angry, I just-," he pauses "I'm having trouble understanding why. Why did you keep yourself away, keep us apart, for all this time?"

Your anger towards him dissipates, and you feel a surge of pity and regret. You caused this.

"But if you had given me a change to explain myself, then the whole argument could have been avoided," you said quietly.

"I know," he admitted. "And for that I am sorry. But, I need to know."

His gaze bored into your eyes, as if it were seeing right into your soul. "Why?"

That last word broke your heart. Tears threatened to spring forward, but you fought hard to suppress them.

"Thorin," you begin, and he lifted his head to look at you, your eyes meeting his. "I don't know where to begin."

"You could start with that night, the last time I saw you," he said lowly, looking away again. Your heart cracked a little more, and you resisted the urge to wrap your arms around him. You had caused this. And now it was time to fix it. Or try to.

And so you told him.

~~~~FLASH BACK~~~~

You looked down at the love of your life's face, saw him bent down on one knee. The ring glittered in the sun's final light, gems catching in the sun's rays.

"Azyung-" you began, tears forming in your eyes. You knew that this day would come. You had known it for months now, ever since Thraín had pulled you aside that day in the halls of Erebor.

"My son intends to wed you," he had confided, and your heart has soared with joy. But now it fell to your feet, crumpled and black, for what Thraín had said next had broken you.

"This cannot come to pass. I believed you were but a distraction, a chance for him to sow his wild oats before settling down with someone suited to his status. And that is not you. You will always be welcome within our halls, just not as Thorin's beloved. Unless," he had added with a derisive laugh "the two of you make an arrangement, after he is married to a suitable bride. A life as his mistress is better than nothing, hmm?"

You had been repulsed, revolted even, and upon voicing your disgust, Thrain hardened again. "No son of mine will ever wed the likes of you, by Mahal I swear it. He needs a highborn dwarf lady, not a childhood companion. You will reject his proposal, or you will be executed for treason the very next day."

You had agonised over it for months, a mess of emotions and pain. The betrayal of your foster father and grandfather, who had let you eat at their table, treated you as one of their own, only to deem you unworthy at your happiest hour. You couldn't tell Thorin- it would break him in two. And what if he didn't believe you?

So you enjoyed each day as it came, as though it were your last with him. Hoping, praying to buy yourself some time to think of some idea, some loophole. That Thorin wouldn't propose, even though it was everything you had ever wanted.

But no relief came. There was no painless way out. So standing in front of the love of your life, you had to choose, even though both options were wrong, wrong, wrong.

"I cannot marry you." And so your heart shattered as you fled from your love, back down the steps of Erebor, toward your room, tears blinding your vision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thorin looked at you with shock. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

"How? Why?" Was all he could say.

"I am not finished yet, Thorin," you smile sadly.

Your tale has just begun.

Next you spoke of crying in your room for hours, and then plucking up the courage to seek Thorin out and explain, to tell him everything, in hopes of salvaging something of your relationship. But as you ran through the corridors, the cry of "Dragon! " could be heard, and Smaug was upon them.

Thorin looked at you in awe and pain as you told him, voice breaking, of how the dragonfire had caught you as you peered out from behind a pillar, and burnt you, withering and burning away the right half of your face from chin to hairline, as the screams of your people roared in your ears.

It is there that he stopped you again.

"If your face was burnt, Y/N, how come it is whole once more?" He asked bewilderedly, brows knotted.

"Be patient," you smile faintly "I will get to that part soon."

"I regained consciousness the next morning, and saw everything. The smoke in the air, crumbled walls, our people dead on the ground...." you paused, choking back tears.

It had taken years for the nightmare to stop. The charred bodies, limbs strewn upon the golden floor amidst the rubble of proud halls. The smell had made you sick to your stomach.

Thorin's hand twitched, like he wanted to take your hand in his, but he made no movement. His eyes looked haunted as you explained how you had literally crawled out of the ruined mountain, half-conscious, and stumbled to Lake Town, where the survivors of Smaug's wrath were housed for the time being.

"Why didn't you seek me out?" He demanded, interrupting once more. "You were injured, our surviving healers- Oin could have healed your face! Why didn't you come?!"

"I was afraid," you whispered in the face of his pain and accusation. "Your grandfather and father were with you, and I feared that they would dispose of me while they had the chance. They loved me, I know they did. But I was now a threat to your family's survival, and that was always going to come first."

They wanted me dead, Thorin," you continued as he opened his mouth to argue. "Their opinion on our betrothal was clear enough on that. And your people would have shunned me anyway. I'm hardly the queen they would have wanted."

"I could have protected you," Thorin argued determinedly. There was the stubborn prince you had loved, so set in his opinions. He believed he could save and salvage anything, no matter how battered and broken.

"Thorin, you believed I didn't love you," you reasoned. "You might still believe so, for all I know. I thought you might be angry, and refuse to help me, or hand me over to fave your father's wrath. And my face would have horrified you."

"I was angry," he admitted, looking down at the ground again. "And devastated, and if anything, confused."

"But I would never have turned you away, Y/N. I loved you, and love.....," he paused, and she saw that he was fighting to keep composure.

"Love means that you never turn the one you love away," he said finally.

"But I did not know," you explained, his use of past tense stinging, but you suppress it. "And it is too late now. But my story is not over yet".

Next you told him how you had travelled across Middle Earth, in search of some scrap of a future, before settling in the outskirts of Bree for many years, healing your face with herbs, preferring a life of solitude. It was a miracle you hadn't bumped into Thorin earlier, with his own nomadic lifestyle.

The scarring on your face had remained as the years flew, and you had worn a hood whenever you had ventured into town for supplies, or when the inhabitants of the town came to you for various ailments. Contact with others had been limited, and loneliness had been your biggest demon.

"I thought I would never see you again, and that was what I resigned myself to," you confessed, and he made a noise like a pained animal.

"That is, until Gandalf found me."

"Gandalf?" Thorin's brow furrowed for a second. "I should have guessed the wizard was involved."

"As always," you said, a smile flickering on your lips.

"I helped him out of a tight spot. He was ambushed by orcs on the road, who mistook him for a vagabond. I distracted them whilst he finished them off. Afterwards, he thanked me, asking me my name. When he recognised me, and somehow saw my scarred face, I tried to leave, but he stopped me, citing that he could help me. He gave me this."

You tugged at the talisman around your neck. It was made of a strange metal-like crystal, carved with runes, and jade green in colour. Thorin observed the talisman with interest.

"What of it? What does it do?"

"It casts an enchantment to heal and hide the scarred half of my face," you explain "returning it to its former appearance."

"So long as I keep it on, no one will know what blow the dragonfire dealt me".

Thorin had recoiled at the mention of an enchantment, but now he had an expression of keen curiosity on his face.

"Will you take it off?" He asked quietly.

"Thorin, I-" you started, but he cut you off.

"Do not fret. Maybe another time," he smiled tightly. You empathise with him despite his request. Your tale is long, and it is a lot to take in.

"Anyway, Gandalf requested I come along on this quest, in hopes of reuniting with you, somehow. He seemed to think it was prudent we did so. At first I was reluctant, as I was sure you hated me. You might hate me still, I do not know," you interjected when he began to argue.

"But he convinced me. And here I am. Here we are."

Thorin was silent for a time, gazing off into the night. "I should probably get back, " you said awkwardly, and stood up, intending to leave.

"Wait!" Thorin was on his feet too, and he reached out and placed a hand on your retreating shoulder. You turned around to look at him, the touch seemingly burning through your clothes and into your skin.

"We are not done yet."

"You're still angry, aren't you?" you began, heart heavy in your chest, but he shushed you.

"No, not angry. I just have a lot of... information, to process. To come to terms with."

He sighed and sat back down, head in his hands. You also returned to your place by his side.

"Learning that my father and grandfather threatened you, their ward, changes many of my views about you," he confesses, running a hand distractedly through his hair.

"I never would have anticipated that they would have done such a thing. I knew that they secretly disapproved, but never imagined anything beyond that. The pure malice they showed toward you, hoping I wouldn't notice... the life they suggested for you.... " his hands curl into fists.

"It is unacceptable, and poor payment for the years of loyalty you showed them. You would've laid down your life for them, Y/N, I know you would," Thorin grinds, fury heating his tone. "And they try to reduce you to nothing more than a glorified paramour."

"Thorin, they weren't well in the head. You and I both know this. I'm sure they meant the best for you," you began, but he stood up violently.

"The best for me?! How is frightening away the woman I love the best for me? Gold sickness is no excuse!" He spat. Then, realising who he was yelling at, he sat back down.

"I am sorry," he said, voice heavy with unfounded remorse. "So sorry, for everything."

"Thorin," you started, but he interrupted. "This... this is all my fault. Every bit of it. I should've left you well alone."

A fire suddenly burned in your heart, and finding your anger, harnessing it, you fought back. "So you regret our love?"

You stare at him, head high, even as you wait for the crushing blow to fall.

"No, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that-"

"You just said you wished you had left me alone. I tend to think that means you wished you had never loved me." Tears filled your eyes, despite your anger, and you wheel around, stalking away further into the garden.

A shape overtakes you, and Thorin appeared in front of you. "Y/N, please," he begs, eyes shining with regret. And finally, after so long, the walls crack. You break down into sobs, tears flooding down your cheeks.

Arms wrapped themselves around you, and held you to a strong, sturdy chest. You cried even harder when you realised that they were Thorin's arms, and Thorin's chest, and you laid your head down upon his shoulder, like you used to. He even smelt the same, a heady mixture of sweat, smoke and earth, which only saw you cry harder, holding onto him for dear life.

"I-I want-t-ted to come b-back, I missed you so-o much," you sobbed, hiccupping, and Thorins stroked the back of your hair gently.

"I believe you, it's alright, shh," he murmured huskily, pulling you to him again.

Eventually your tears ceased, and your sobs quietened, and Thorin pulled back to look at you, eyes tinged with worry. You smiled soggily at him, and laugh quietly.

"What a pair we are," you laugh, even though your heart isn't in it.

"Yes, what a pair," he agreed. "But now, I will not let you to leave again."

You take in his words quietly, and think for a short while before replying.

"You may not allow me to leave, Thorin, but where does this all leave us?"

Your heart is thumping wildly again, and for one moment you hope he might confess his undying love and you will embrace. But that is but a long-winded dream, and Thorin is cautious as he speaks.

"Many years have passed since we were last....involved. And I cannot sideline the pain of that, just yet. Maybe, if we attempted to get to know each other again-"

"We shall see, " You finished the sentence. Looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes, you whisper.

"Do you think you can love me again, after all that has happened?"

Thorin stares back down at you, gaze unwavering. "It remains to be seen," he said finally, moving past you, and you feel like the bottom of your stomach has dropped out.

"But I believe there is a fair chance," he added, so quietly you almost missed it. And he leaves you to your thoughts in the dark of the garden, crickets chirply softly in the background.

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