Thorin sat heavily on the bench, his legs aching for rest after walking so far. He nodded his thanks to the aging innkeeper when she set down a mug and plate of food in front of him. There were more foods from the ground than he would have liked but after months of meager meals as he traveled he was glad for food of any sort.

"Set that in the back," he heard the graying innkeeper say softly before the sound of footfalls on wood met his ears.

It had been over a hundred years before he was able to spend more than a moment not listening for sounds of danger; the attack on his home proving nowhere was ever safe. He chewed lazily as he listened to the men around him talking quietly, many stealing glances at him, and the sounds of the woman bustling about as she served the patrons.

"Would you like anything more?" a soft voice asked coming to stand behind him and upon looking up he was met with the face of a young woman.

"More ale" he answered, his eyes following her as she refilled his mug before bringing it back.

"Is there anything else?" she asked politely, as was expected.

He kept his eyes on hers as he lifted his cup to his lips and drank; it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, and though she was young her face was sweet. "Is that an offer?" he asked, his voice deep and gruff to even his own ears.

Her eyes widened slightly and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. "No," she whispered shaking her head before bidding him a good night and moving to other patrons. He smirked at the small blush that remained on her cheeks, often catching his eye as she looked about the room. His gaze was heavy on her, watching her long after he had finished his meal.

"You would do best to leave to your bed," the aged woman said taking his clean plate. "That one has seen too few years for one such as yourself."

"One such as what?" he demanded knowing how those who were not dwarves looked down on them as lesser beings, as though their short bodies were not the only things they lacked. Men kept their wives and daughters hidden on the chance a dwarf would rape her and steal her away, thinking dwarves were rough savages.

"You cannot be less than a century," she said looking at the gray strands in his hair. "She is far too young for a man, or dwarf, who has seen so much. You would do best to stay clear of my daughter," she said with a kind warning, and he looked from her lined face to the young woman's to see that they bore a resemblance he should have noticed. He stayed minutes longer watching the young woman, seeing the flames of the candles licking her fair hair and her pale face. He did not think she was more than twenty and realized her mother was right, she was too young.

"Would you like more ale?" she asked seeing he was still there. She blinked under his gaze, waiting for the answer he still did not have.

"No," he answered shortly, standing to leave and seeing his nose was level with her shoulder. He stared up at her seeing her youth in her innocent face, her dark blue eyes easy to read with his own colder ones. He went to his room, his body relieved at laying on the straw bed rather than the ground, and he fell almost instantly to sleep; the last thought he remembered was of a pretty face on a girl too young.

So this is an idea that's been running around in my head of Thorin being in love (at least as much as he's capable). This will stay from his point of view for a while before going into hers. I haven't fully decided how serious I am about this but I cannot get this idea out of my head, so if you're interested please let me know and I'll continue it.