A/N: First and foremost, thank you for reading. I don't ask for reviews, mainly because I write for the fun of it and am not looking for anyone else's approval (not to sound too harsh). It's worth mentioning that in this particular story line although Smaug never invaded Erebor, the battle of Moria still took place- allowing Thorin to keep his title of Oakenshield. Other than that I am trying my best to keep it as similar to Tolkien's world of Middle Earth as possible. I have a good chunk of the story written, but will be constantly updating and editing as I see fit. Enjoy!

Years after the Battle of Moria, Thorin returned to live deep within the Lonely Mountain and the great city of Erebor. Eventually it came time for the young prince to take a bride, as was traditional in the line of Durin in order to extend the bloodline. Though many women lined up for the honor of his hand in marriage, none seemed to Thorin nor his grandfather Thror to be the right match. Finally, King Thror- who was greatly displeased that his grandson hadn't taken to any of the women in Erebor- made the decision for him...

Rose drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself against the frame of the desk. She fumbled with the tiny floral clasps adorning her dark hair in a desperate attempt to keep her mind off of what she was getting ready to do. Looking at herself in the mirror wasn't helping at all. The servants had to wake her in the early hours of that summer morning in the hopes of getting her bathed and ready long before needing to depart. Under the masculine robes- a disguise to protect her from any dangers she may encounter on her journey- was a silk dress the color of the night sky when the moon was highest in the clouds. The wretched thing was very uncomfortable; the lace of the fabric itched and irritated her skin, and the neckline dipped lower than what would be deemed appropriate under any other circumstance. Her corset was another matter of its own.

The moment the straps were tied constrictingly around her rib cage, Rose was forced to hold her breath and refrain from bending over lest the horrible torture device snap and cut her in two. It took several hours for her to appear as if she wasn't being suffocated to death. Clearly she was expected to make quite an impression that day.

Her heart pounded deep in her chest. The sound drummed in her ears and seemed to echo off the walls, only proving to worsen her nervous state. Trying her best to hide her trembling hands beneath the sleeves of her dress, she turned in her seat- looking very stiff and having to sit up as straight as she could thanks to the corset- to face the stout dwarf standing behind her.

"I don't understand..." she began hesitantly.
The dwarf appraised her slowly, clucking her tongue before stepping forward. Her mother always wanted to see Rose in something other than her play clothes, and it was clear that she relished every moment of it. The young dwarf princess that sat at the old vanity table hardly looked like her daughter at all- it seemed like she had stepped into a dream too good to be true. Tucking a loose strand of the child's hair in place, she smiled to reassure her.

"It may not make sense right now...but what you're doing is very important to our people."
"I hardly see how an arranged marriage could ever benefit the Iron Hills." Rose stood slowly, wincing at the sharp pain she felt in her feet. These tight slippers would be the death of her. She looked up at her mother, who sighed in exasperation.
"You are the daughter of Dain Ironfoot, Primrose." she said sharply. "Your betrothal to the young prince of Erebor would unite our kingdoms and make a stronger alliance in the race of dwarves! This wedding will be one the most historic of our kind- I don't think you realize the gravity of the situation."

Rose scoffed and walked over to her bed. Her clothes had already been packed, and much to her disappointment she could see that almost her entire wardrobe had been updated to silk robes and fancy dresses- garments that a queen would wear. Trailing a finger down the red satin material of a dress near the top of the pile, she couldn't help but tear up slightly. It was only a week ago that she was free to do as she chose. If she stepped out in trousers and a male dwarf's shirt, it wouldn't be given a second thought.

But then the truth was revealed of the role she was expected to play in their society. Her father had only just returned from his journey to Erebor and the great meeting that was held to negotiate trade and other matters that bored Rose to death (She never did much care for politics or other issues that were in fact immensely important, and to tell the truth she was glad that she would never have to worry about it). The moment he returned, any greeting that she tried to give her father fell on deaf ears. He pulled his wife into their chambers, and before long there were shouts from within. It was several hours before either emerged, and both looked very annoyed with the other. That was when they told her.

In just a week, she would be sent to Erebor and wed to their prince, Thorin Oakenshield. Rose could feel her world being ripped from under her feet at hearing her parents' final decision. For days she had cried herself to sleep until finally the tears wouldn't come. She felt as if she were being punished- having to be sent away to a foreign place full of strangers. Having to marry a dwarf she didn't even know. None of this was fair.

"Why did it have to be me?" she demanded as a tear rand down her cheek. "I didn't ask for any of this!"
Her mother walked to her side and held her firmly in her arms.
"I know, darling..." she said sadly. "But it's destiny. Be patient, love- things will work out in the end. I'm sure of it."
A few sobs escaped Rose's lips before she regained her composure.
"But...what if they don't like me? What if he doesn't like me?" The thought of being wed to a stranger was hard enough to bear. The thought of being wed to someone who despised her was even worse. Her mother wiped a stray tear away with her finger, smiling down at her reassuringly.

"He would be a fool to think any less of you than the amazing dwarf you are. And Thorin Oakenshield is no fool." Hearing his name made Rose blush despite herself. Her mother patted her cheek lightly and paused. "We still need to put on your beard."
Rose sighed. "Is it really necessary?" Her mother straightened, and Rose knew a lecture would ensue.
"You know the rules, Primrose. Beyond our borders, we are required to dress as men. It's for your own-"
"My own protection. Yes, I know." For the next half hour, three servants worked to attach the false hair to her chin. Rose had to refrain from pulling away or scratching at the scruffy facial hair that now lined her face. Her mother, who had been pacing just behind and overseeing the progress of this arduous task, tried not to laugh as she once again pulled her daughter into her arms in approval.
"You've grown so quickly..."

Rose stifled another sob that threatened to reveal itself. Even though her mother was always scolding and lecturing her over small things that hardly mattered, Rose knew she would soon miss it after long. She wrapped her arms around her mother's waist and closed her eyes. A loud knock at the door caused the embracing women to turn. Slowly stepping into the room was a dwarf that looked as if he had been ordered to carry out a death sentence. Dain Ironfoot was greatly saddened at the sight of his only daughter dressed in her robes and getting ready to leave his home forever. He did his best to conceal his emotions behind a half-hearted smile.

"It is time, child." he said with finality. Rose stepped forward, careful not to trip on her dress, and fell into her father's arms.
"I'll miss you, daddy." Her voice was muffled against the fabric of Dain's robes.
It had been decades since she had used his favorite nickname. His mind's eye flashed to the past, and he could see the tiny dwarf covered in dirt with tears in her eyes as she showed him her latest scar.

Bending forward and scooping her up in his arms, he inspected the damage carefully.
"What happened, Prim?"
"I was climbing a tree and fell." She buried her tear-stained face in his shoulder. Smiling gently at his daughter, he kissed the mark and began to wrap it in bandages.
"We could've used a warrior like you in battle." She suppressed a giggle, still in the phase of thinking it childish to laugh at something her parent said. After his work was done, the little girl hugged his neck tightly before scrambling out of his arms. She didn't want the other children to see that she actually showed affection towards her father.
"Thank you, daddy!" she called before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as his Prim loosened her grip on his vest. Letting out a gruff sigh, he took her arm and led her down the dark corridors as servants gathered her belongings into bags.

As they approached the guard, Rose paused hesitantly. Thirty dwarves dressed in full armor had gathered around the small pony that would take her on the greatest journey of her life. In order to ensure that she wouldn't stand out in the crowd, several others were ordered to ride ponies as well. She turned and gave her mother and father one last kiss goodbye before ascending her steed.

"We will arrive shortly before the wedding," her mother said in her ear. "Until then, just try and get used to things."
"We love you so much," her father said as he came forward for one final embrace. "I know you will make us proud."

With an effort Rose managed to mount her pony without damaging her robes. She felt her body lurch back as the horse began to trot forward, neighing merrily as the sun shone down on its face. Turning to catch one last glimpse of her parents, she looked back to see the two holding one another and waving sadly as their daughter left the refuge of the Iron Hills.