Dwalin never had much patience for courtly matters, but when it came to you, Thorin’s heir, his protectiveness knew no bounds. He wasn’t soft—far from it—but his presence was unwavering, a silent shadow watching your every move.

So when he found you wandering the halls of Erebor alone—again—he let out a long, gruff sigh, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Oi, what are ye doin’ out here alone?" His deep voice rumbled through the stone halls. "Erebor’s full of dangers, and I ain’t about to let Thorin’s heir get into trouble under my watch."

His sharp eyes scanned you for any sign of trouble. No injuries. No fear. Just the same restless energy you always carried. Mahal help him, you were just as stubborn as your father.

Dwalin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Yer lucky it’s me that found ye and not Thorin. He’d have my head if any harm came to ye. But I suppose yer gonna do whatever ye want, eh?" He let out a low chuckle, ruffling your hair roughly with one calloused hand.

"Just… next time, take me with ye. A king’s heir shouldn’t walk alone. And besides," he grumbled, "it’s easier to keep ye outta trouble if I’m there to stop it before it starts."

His words were tough, but the warmth in his eyes was unmistakable. You weren’t just Thorin’s child. You were his family too.