Stature Emsiecat

Summary:

Just a short little thing today (pardon the pun :B) . Regarding an idea justswishnflick came up with indicating that Thorin would be happy to be amongst hobbits having spent most of his life being looked down on by the taller races. Poor Thorin had height issues =P

Chapter Text

When Thorin had lived in Erebor as a prince of dwarves, stature was not something he overly concerned himself with thinking about. He knew from his lessons with Balin and Óin as a dwarfling that most other races were taller than dwarves were. He knew that their physiology differed in various ways. What he did not know, however, was how it felt to be looked down upon; both metaphorically and physically.

He was royalty; heir to one of the wealthiest kingdoms in Middle Earth. Thus, whether he be dwarf, man, or elf, that kind of standing would mean that he was well respected no matter his height.

After Smaug of course, all that had changed.

Thorin had only met with men and elves on a handful of occasions before the dragon attack, and most of those times he had been stood upon the dais of his grandfather's throne, unperturbed by their height as his was taller thanks to his elevated position.

Now though...

Now that Thorin was one of the dispossessed, one of the exiled hundreds; a prince of a broken line and desperate people, Thorin came to the uncomfortable realisation of just how small in this world he really was.

Tall for a dwarf he may be, but his height would be seen as short and near pitiable amongst men, laughable amongst elves.

For so long he and his fellow dwarves from Erebor lived in exile that Thorin soon forgot what it was like not to be looked down on. Men, elves, orcs, all of them taller and assured of their superiority through this advantage alone.

Thorin grew used to having to look up at people he worked for. He grew used to people pushing him aside (or trying to anyway, people often forgot that whilst dwarves were short, they were also hardy), he even got used to the audacious few; mothering simpering types, who referred to he and his kinsmen as endearing or sweet, and within earshot no less!

It was unconscionable, demeaning, and difficult to stomach, but Thorin made do as they all did until they managed to settle in Ered Luin.

Working so long in the company of those taller than he; Thorin had almost forgotten that there was one other race who might understand his irritation.

Bilbo Baggins was shorter than him. Their burglar barely reached Thorin's shoulder and upon first meeting him, Thorin had felt rather pleased that there was a member of their Company so much shorter than a dwarf.

It was a petty sort of satisfaction that quickly fell flat when he realised that thinking in such a way proved he was no better than those who had disdained him for much of his life due to his height.

Thorin sought to make amends; and whenever he saw Bilbo needing to crane his neck to see something, or look cowed by the height of others surrounding him, the dwarf was quick to step in and put things to rights. He made sure maps and plans were within Bilbo's line of sight, attempted to use their terrain whilst they travelled to his advantage so that Bilbo was always on a level with him. And, once the reached Laketown where the men fairly loomed over their smallest member, Thorin was sure to use dwarven hardiness to his advantage, nudging and bustling folk aside so that Bilbo wouldn't be pushed over or have his toes stepped on.

It was only after the battle and Bilbo's subsequent offer for Thorin to return with him to the Shire that Thorin even remembered there were others of Bilbo's height if not even smaller.

Bilbo had teased that Thorin would be seen as something of a giant amongst the fauntlings, and that most of the hobbits would have to look up at him as Bilbo had done at the beginning of their quest.

Thorin assured Bilbo that he would not use his height to intimidate or belittle and the hobbit had chuckled at the solemnity in Thorin's voice before kissing him and proclaiming that he had 'such a sweet heart'.

Thorin was as good as his word. Once he moved into Bag End with Bilbo, he made sure none of the residents of Hobbiton or the surrounding area ever felt he was looking down on them or mocking their smaller stature.

With the fauntlings he was viewed with something akin to reverence; a strange, foreign being, who told tales of fantastic adventures and was as strong as an ox, and so tall!

Bilbo often laughed and rolled his eyes to see Thorin surrounded by children, all clamouring for a story or to be hefted onto his shoulders.

He seemed to take the attention in his stride though; he had helped raise Fíli and Kíli after all.

And Thorin, now amongst a race of people whom most were shorter than him, found himself oddly pleased and grinning like a fool whenever someone who didn't know him well enough to recall his name would refer to him as 'that tall fellow who stays with Master Baggins'.

Really, after having spent most of his life looked down on, it was rather pleasant to feel tall again.