Im A Sucker For A Good Soulmate Fic - Tumblr Posts

Eyes truly are the windows to the soul 🥰🥰🥰🥰

The Color of My One’s Eyes

Summary: A soulmate au, where Thorin and Rowena find each other through the unusual color of each other’s eyes. A pre-Quest of Erebor au.

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield/ OFC Rowena

Rating: Teen

Warning: a tiny bit sensual, also some misogyny ( not from Thorin; he’s too gentlemanly).

Content: pre-Quest, Blacksmith Thorin, light angst, happy ending, Dwarven Ones, soulmates.

Word count: 1.9k words

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It was with some hesitation when Rowena left her father's house that early afternoon. As long as she didn't meet anyone at the smithy, she was fine. Except for maybe his newest smith, a Dwarf; the few he'd hired before tended to mind their own business. They were surprisingly polite to her sometimes. Just as well; they didn't know about her condition, nor care to, unlike the people in her village, especially that smith who'd worked for her father up until three days ago.

He'd told her she'd never wed because she was strange, and would've gone on with his taunts, but the fierce Dwarf who'd happened by had given him such a death glare that he'd slunk away swiftly. Her father had dismissed the smith after that, but Rowena was still saddened over the incident and almost too afraid to do her usual daily chore; taking food down for the smith.

"He was probably right too; I'm strange because I can't see deep blue, not until I find my soulmate by that color of his eyes," she thought miserably, "but he's not here in my village. Why was I cursed with that way of finding him?"

At least the Dwarf, whose hammer blows fell so hard and heavy now as she approached, wouldn't judge her, since he didn't know, nor would care to. She'd just pop in, leave the basket of lunch, and go, and resign herself to her usual life with her parents.

Another forge, another day's work, and another day's worth of suspicions and unkind words from Men, Thorin thought as he set up his tools to work. While the race of Men admired Dwarven crafts and skills, they were all too often unkind and cruel, and Thorin was naturally suspicious of them, one and all. Or the men specifically; they weren't good to their women at all.

He still remembered Dwalin sharing how he'd stared down and frightened a man who'd taunted a young woman, here in this very village. How they could be so cruel to such precious creatures was more than Thorin could understand. No Dwarf would ever treat a Dwarrowdam in such a manner. And Thorin knew well he'd never treat his One in such a fashion- assuming he ever did find his One. Her eyes would be emerald green ( he saw that color as gray), and she certainly wasn't among the Dwarves who lived near his home.

Well, he'd do his week's work, collect his coppers, and head back to his home, away from these heartless Men. Dis would be happy he'd found something; her boys were growing rapidly and needed food and clothing. He had no time at all to worry about his One.

Shedding his tunic, Thorin took up the tongs, and soon his strong hammer falls rang throughout the smithy as he shaped the glowing piece of metal into a pickaxe head.

Rowena entered the smithy, fully intending to leave the basket and go, but the hammer's ringing blows were so strong and loud she had to stop a moment and watch the Dwarven smith at his labor, if only for a moment. Surely he wouldn't know- oh!

He was shaping a pickaxe head with strong yet precise blows on the anvil, but what really caught Rowena's eyes was him; he was stripped to the waist and gloriously muscular. Black designs of a raven and some strange runes were inked across his skin. Rowena couldn't take her eyes off his rippling biceps, back, and chest muscles as he moved around with his tools; they did something to her, igniting a strange, unfamiliar warmth in her belly, and a blush across her cheeks. She had to step closer...

It was precisely in that moment Thorin chose to look up from his labors. He started when his eye landed upon a young woman with blooming cheeks practically opposite him. How long had she been watching him, he wondered.

Rowena jumped when his startled eyes met hers; she hadn't expected those keen eyes to catch her gawking like a lewd girl as he labored, half clad, at her father's forge. Eru, she was being lewd. And her father would be so angry with her for that.

"Sir, I'm- I'm very sorry-" she stammered, trying to look everywhere else, but at him. In vain; his glorious naked chest was branded deeply into her memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." Thorin's cheeks were blooming too as he reached for his tunic. He hadn't expected company, from a daughter of Man, no less, to come walking in. And, Mahal, she'd caught him half naked too! Why that suddenly made him feel flustered, he didn't know.

"I'm decent," he said briefly, tugging his tunic hem sharply. He hoped she wouldn't tell his employer; the last thing he needed was to be dismissed for being half naked in front of a respectable woman.

The woman turned her face to look at him, her cheeks still glowing with shame.

"I didn't mean to gawk- don't tell my father- the man who hired you- please!" She sounded almost frightened. "He always told me that unwed women shouldn't look at unclad men!"

Now that he knew that she was more worried about getting in trouble than he was, Thorin felt a rush of relief and sympathy. "You have my word of honor; I will say nothing to your father." He caught her eye. "I usually don't strip naked when I work, but it got too warm for even a Dwarf in here."

Rowena nodded, relief flowing through her, as she held Thorin's steady gaze. Eru, her father would've been so angry if he'd known. "I am Rowena, daughter of Hal," she said simply.

"I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain." Thorin spoke cautiously, ever wary of sharing his royal titles among strangers.

"I am pleased-" Rowena stopped. She blinked furiously, telling herself she wasn't seeing things. But somehow, Thorin's eyes weren't gray anymore. If anything, they were a beautiful color; deep blue with a silvery cast, and they complimented his long dark lashes beautifully. He was so- Rowena stopped her thoughts. He isn't- how did that even happen?

"Rowena-" Thorin stopped, frowning. He could've sworn Rowena's eyes were gray a short while ago. Right now, they were emerald green, the prettiest shade of green he'd ever seen, and the color made her skin glow. Mahal, she was beautiful- Thorin stopped his thoughts fiercely. Why am I thinking that of a daughter of Man?

"Thorin, what- how? I couldn't see that particular shade of blue until just now. I- I don't even know what to say." A feeling of dread and rejection gripped Rowena; what if Thorin was angry about her being his soulmate? It couldn't be denied; she couldn't see deep blue until the moment she'd looked into his eyes, and Eru bless her, her soulmate had beautiful eyes.

"I don't know." Thorin was baffled. "I didn't know what emerald green looked like, until you came in. I'd always known that my One would have eyes of that color. I didn't expect to meet her here, among Men." Frankly, he wasn't sure how to explain his conflict; he'd always been suspicious of Men and their ways. And now his One was of the race of Men. Thorin wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Rowena's heart sank. He didn't want her clearly; she was of a race he didn't seem to like, possibly for serious reasons of his own, but it still hurt. She turned her head away slowly; best he didn't see her cry.

"Rowena!" Remorse stricken, Thorin was beside her swiftly. Durin forgive him, he'd hurt his One by judging her along with the unkind members of her people. "I didn't mean to be so harsh."

"Thorin-" Rowena let him draw her close; she put her arms around his broad shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair. It was thick, but so soft in her hands. And if she was still crying, it was with joy this time as Thorin pulled her closer. He did want her. "Thorin, I forgive you. It's that- I've never been treated kindly for being different. The smith before you- he was so mean to me one day, and blessed be that Dwarf who frightened him."

This was interesting. "Was he a fierce looking Dwarf, with tattoos on his hands?" Thorin asked intently.

"Why, er, yes. And fierce eyes too. He did frighten me a little. You know him?" Rowena lifted her head to look at him. Thorin chuckled grimly. "He is Dwalin son of Fundin, my cousin and guardsman. He was looking for work here too, which he couldn't find, and he told me about frightening a Man for taunting a young Woman." His blue eyes grew fierce for a moment as he stroked Rowena's tear streaks with his thumbs. "Women are scarce in my race; we protect and cherish them. You would've never been subjected to such treatment had you lived among my people, Rowena daughter of Hal. This Man will regret it yet."

"Thorin, please don't get into trouble on my account. It's in the past now." Rowena nuzzled into Thorin's palms with a soft moan; she quite loved his large, hard hands, and the thought of them touching her sent a rush of warmth through her.

Her reaction wasn't missed; Thorin's eyes suddenly darkened as he looked into hers. Then he was drawing her face closer to his; Rowena's hands threaded into his hair to clasp his nape, drawing a sensual rumble from him. "Rowena," he growled.

"Thorin," she whispered breathily, just before their lips met.

Their kiss was soft, gentle as Thorin carefully explored Rowena's mouth; his beard was prickly but soft against her skin. Rowena hummed contentedly, soaring amid the joy of finding her soulmate and the realization that she loved him, wanted him.

Then he was nipping her lip, asking entrance; Rowena parted her lips, and moaned when their tongues met, entangling together in a heated kiss that grew deeper. Her legs quivered from the forced bending over, and Rowena knelt down. Thorin gripped her waist, drawing her closer with one hand while his other hand tenderly held her nape.

They parted, panting and starved for air, but Thorin didn't release Rowena, not just yet. He nuzzled against her, savoring the softness of her neck, cheek, and form; she wasn't as hard and broad as a Dwarrowdam, but she was his One and his soulmate, and all the more beautiful. "Rowena," he murmured against her hair, "Rowena, my love, my Amrâlimê."

"What does it mean, Thorin?" Rowena was certain it was something lovely, judging from his tender tone.

"It means my beloved, in the language of my people," Thorin drew back to gaze at her tenderly, "and you're my beloved, Rowena. I was wrong to judge you by the actions of a few of your race." He looked serious then. "Not many have been kind to my people and I in our wanderings."

There was a long, sad tale behind those serious eyes, Rowena thought. "I'm sorry for how they've treated you," she said simply.

"Don't be, you're not like them." Thorin leaned in to nuzzle her nose. Rowena's eyes fluttered shut as she rested her brow against his forehead; stray strands of hair tickled her skin, sending pleasant little thrills flitting through her.

"Rowena?" She opened her eyes to find herself gazing into twin lakes of deep blue framed with long black lashes. Thorin's soft gaze warmed her to the core.

"Thorin?" Rowena whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment with a louder tone.

"I love you, Rowena daughter of Hal."

Nothing was brighter than the joy that shone in Rowena's eyes. "Thorin," she murmured, "I love you too."

Then they melted together as their lips met in another kiss; a tender, sweet kiss that spoke far more than they ever could.

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