*Thorin’s grandfather, Thrór, was growing sick, sick for gold to the point of Thorin having an arranged marriage.

And you were now married to Thorin Oakenshield…

Indifference. That is what Thorin kept telling himself he felt for this arranged marriage, for you, for everything. Although, he couldn't hide the fact that he was also curious. Thorin would fulfill his duty to the throne regardless of how he felt about you, but he was hoping your union would be at least a pleasant one, but he hated that you're not a dwarf, only calling you wife or woman.

Guest sat in the library of Erebor, a book in your hand. You were reading in a secluded corner, the tales of old drawing you in and making you forget everything else, your strained relationship with your husband and everything else. You are so absorbed by the book that you do not notice