Thorin X Oc - Tumblr Posts

Better Angels

Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)

Words: 3,489

Ratings: Gen Audience

Warnings: none

A/N:  The grief -fresh in her dearheart's soulful eyes- tumbles around with Tessa's head with heartache of her own, and what follows is told through her POV.

Summary:  After their brief time apart, morning found Tessa finally rejoining the others in the makeshift infirmary on Erebor's groundfloor. By Mahal's Grace and every dwarves' fingers-crossed, Thorin Oakenshield II pulled through and is in recovery after his skiff on Ravenhill. The Mountain seemed even brighter on the inside, its history far beyond what she imagined. Tessa couldn't hold back her questions in her eagerness to see him again, and wanted to hear everything from his own lips. Thorin welcomed her familiar, doting company at his bedside, but also realized he has his guilt to reckon with before he can even consider taking the Throne as King. In his honesty to Tessa, he shares his bout with darkness that threatened to take his sanity and respect, and hopes this does not stain her view of him in return. Clearly she missed something big....

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It hit me the next morning when I woke– I never asked about the Throne Room! 

Every dwarf filing into the Halls was bustling with important things like keeping their King alive, so I never thought to stop someone and ask to see it. I was drained enough as it was, when I saw him… what a sight that must have been. Even after a wash down, I felt dirty as sin from ash and smoke and leftover dragon bile, topped with a mess of tears seeing him on the brink of life and death. 

My adrenaline tanked when my head hit the pillow, and though every square inch of this place needed a deep clean with a couple hundred Swiffer mops, I was way too exhausted to care about tidiness. In our huddle outside the hospital wing, there was a fire, the six of us non-injured Company members sleeping in shifts just like old times- that comfort meant the world to me after the days I spent away. 

In the morning I found myself raring to help, but wanted to go back and check in with everyone, first thing. When we all visited our friends and brothers again with breakfast in tow, I took my waiting place on the King’s bed while Dori checked on Fili first. 

Wrappings and heat warmers aside, Thorin sported color in his cheeks today, which was a fantastic sign. Sleep must have come easier with the roots Oin gave him. From the way he moved, his abdomen must be feeling better because he could scoot up to the headboard all on his own, making room for me to sit. 

Washing down my first bite, I shared my waking thoughts with him, 

“Well, hon, if we can get you out of this bed here soon, it’s time to get you back to your throne where you belong~. It’s all yours now, isn’t it!” 

There’s so much I wanted to catch up on; time flew as we'd spent the last few weeks away from each other in a whirlwind. Surely he'd had plenty of time to refamiliarize himself with his home before the battle. Our friends had been armed and prepared for it, judging by the state of everyone's armor. 

I really should've paced myself; Thorin only just woke up. But I couldn't bite back the questions now, there were so many. But I was most curious about him– what living meant, now that he'd made it through the night and could see his future more brightly,

“How does it feel? Take you right back? Only now, you're taking the best seat in the house," I remembered aloud.

…Thorin's expression fell altogether. The last thing I ever wanted to have happen because of something I said; I regretted asking- though I didn’t know why.

“-What?”

Then abruptly he just– cut away. Not looking at me at all, but rather his feet; sulking away like the sad sight of a guilty child. Even when I cocked my head to cue him to look up, he wouldn't.

In all these months, this was the first ounce of hesitation I’d ever seen in Thorin. The one time I’d ever dare call him feeble: 

"Thorin?"

"I-... They’ve not told you, have they."

"Told me what?"

Grief heaved across his face. You can tell by the way he struggled to breathe– the normal ebb of his chest didn’t lift in that steady, sure rise. 

In the gap of quiet, I stretched out, turning from my twisted seat off the side of the bed to prop up my legs alongside his. He wiped at his brow with a still-stiff hand in search of words, the right words. Whatever had happened proved hard for him to swallow, let alone speak.

"A grace that they didn’t." Thorin murmured under his breath before speaking up, "You weren't here to see it, when we arrived at the Door. To see me, what became of me inside.” To pacify my growing worry, Thorin laid his hand over mine.  “And to be true, I am glad for it."

Under his palm, I held it back to try and stop its tremor. "See you? In– what way?"

The confession barely passed his lips,

 "... I turned goldsick."

The longest fear he’d held: the one taunted to him by kings and trolls alike for months- refusing at every turn to anyone who would listen the very idea of succumbing to his grandfather’s fate –

...it came true anyway.

"Oh, Thorin," I only scooted closer- not away, never away. (And that, plainly, surprised him, if his brows freezing in place was any indication.) "What happened?"

Internal debate brought Thorin's eyes to close for a minute, but he shook his head at the end, 

"The things I said, I cannot take back.  I'd give nearly anything for the chance to scrub them away... How Bilbo can even look me in the eye is beyond me. It's inexcusable." 

The groove of his top lip twitched at some tortured memory,

"Once the dragon left, my heart turned toward the gold around me, and never looked away. This- damned lust settled in my chest… Had this grip on my mind and– what felt like my very soul. It was a dream, and not a dream, because I can remember every moment passed .. almost like a morning fog."

Thorin reasoned with the thought a moment, the followed up, 

"To answer you, I’ve not returned to that cursed room. How could I? How can I sit there, when the very sight of the gilded stone we used in our haste lies poured solid across the floors below?… It reflects everywhere. We’d never piece it up again if we tried for another sixty years."

His heavy brows sagged in their agony. I listened on until Thorin's large thumb stilled and held onto my hand like a lifeline,

"I was horrid, Tessa. You'd never recognize me."

How his heart made the claim as fact so surely, broke mine.

"Of course I would. You're still you, even if you're 'not yourself'."

"-But I was myself.” 

Thorin finally braved to look up: firm as ever, and brokenhearted,

“–Foul and greedy and sick," he said, "Even in the dark when I lay alone trying to sleep. My madness mixed about with the fallen who came before me; the curse passed through my lips as it would their own. I could taste those acrid words as they slipped from me– and I believed them. I'd–...I believed every word." 

I knew my pity must have been readable, because his guilt rose with each sin he confessed:

“I led us to war when it was not necessary. Peace may have been an option, had I but honored my word. Our allies presented joint arms and I refused. I set my brethren to count coins instead of hunt, I let men, women, children dig themselves out from Smaug’s wreckage and leant no help– all while I writhed in my wealth and excess.” Thorin’s words wavered with his head, “I set my own.. my own kin to anger against me. It is by Mahal’s Grace that I have them with me now.”

It clicked why no one told me. This seemed like a huge shift in Thorin’s character to have watched him suffer through. Seemed it was aptly named- a sickness. One he’s clearly sought forgiveness for, and they’ve very clearly wished for nothing more than to move on from. I could see it in how Balin prayed over his healing, how Kili kept asking about him, how everyone cared so much– even given how he’d allegedly treated them all.

The very sink of his shoulders pushing him down sent my chest into an ache. Prostrate as David before the Lord– or as much as he could manage in a makeshift bed.

"I am worthy of that throne no more.” Thorin braced his head as he had before, “Who would follow a slipshod king prone to such weakness?"

This was his truth as he knew it. I reached for Thorin’s other hand.

"Here, c’mere–” 

While he looked tense to receive anything resembling comfort in this moment when he’s already so exposed of the heart, Thorin surrendered it. 

Massive, steel-worn hands, cupped by thin, spread-wide fingers like mine… harmless by comparison. 

Holding them fast seemed second nature; with both the reverence as a king deserved, but also with the care of someone who oh-so deserved something soft for once in his life. No rings adorned his hands now. Before I would have thought this was necessary for hygiene and bandaging; though now I suspect it was a choice of unworthiness. I couldn’t stop myself; I kissed them both. 

I still can’t fathom having a royal title over my head like he does. Holding any kind of political office –or even some stuffy position on a board of trustees seems daunting enough to me. With royal expectations and generations' past leaving their pressures lying on my shoulders like a fur cloak, not to mention being held up by a bum leg that's keeping me trapped to a bed for the next few weeks? That handicap alone –however temporary– would be frustrating enough on its own. 

And to face the oliphaunt in the room, let no one forget that this room is chock full of people suffering from injuries from top to bottom. There was a war outside these walls. We fought a frickin’ war and won. 

Really, what could I say to give counsel to a mastermind behind that undertaking? 

But as I sat back up, the way this guy looked at me caught me in the moment. His eyes set to hear my words like I hung the stars myself. This reminds me of every time we’ve gotten a second alone: this is Thorin. This is the man - no. ‘It's dwarf, lass, and a proud one’- that has to sit with himself at the end of the day, and reason with the same questions as anyone else: 

‘Have I done my best’, ‘Was it enough’, ‘What can I do better tomorrow’. 

And yes, he has to think about those things for the greater good of his people, first… but I’m positive he worries over those things for his own peace of mind. Or else, why would he have brought his friends, his kin, his own flesh and blood along with him to the hardest challenge of his life? He needed them. Surely, even he wrestled with those wants when he’s completely alone. The ones that crop up in the quiet, from the haze of his pipe, 

–a calm, quiet, ‘I could really use a friend right now’.

Rubbing out the tension in his hands is my next move- a nervous gesture of busyness I tend to hide most of the time when I make some excuse to be around him. But it does serve a purpose of relief. Not much, but maybe enough for now.

I offered my hardest to relate, to ease that tension in his brow:

"We all have inner demons. Whether they were born there or worked their way in somehow. And sometimes, our better angels are just so quiet, it's hard to hear them over the noise."

Thorin cocked his head to understand the idea.

"But you listened, hon'," a pause to give a kiss to his tented knuckles, and again, "You listened to your angels in the end; they haven't left you. You came out of it. You chose to do that, yourself. And they all know that–” 

Thorin glanced to where I nodded: somewhere behind me, to the hall and Halls beyond. 

“There's no second thoughts from any of them, whether or not to follow you."  I assured him "–wasn’t any doubt from the start. Your Company was well-chosen. Knew every one of those concerns, always heard you out, and yes- maybe even considered that temptation about you. And yet, they still kept with you anyway, and from the looks of things- all your injuries, notwithstanding- every risk was worth it."

And these were no small injuries- to him, least of all. Scores of his own kind lost their lives in this fight.

My gut backpedaled to the point, 

"That's not to say I'm happy for what you went through! Please don't think that I'm grateful for that part; you've suffered enough." My fingers slipped to lace through his. "Hearing voices- ghosts, insomnia, what have you- that sounds like a form of torture I’d not wish on my worst enemy. Thorin, no one would want more of that for you... you don't deserve it."

To prove I was earnest, I took a few fingers to chip his chin up from where he locked onto my hands in wonderment. This part was important:

"But– you’re no less deserving of what’s rightfully yours just because you stumbled. That's being human– mortal, guilty to a fault. It can, and has, and will, happen again to even the highest among you.”

Thorin is listening– but that edge of doubt still bobbed his head back and forth, scoffing at the idea. Too hard on himself, this one.

“If it wasn’t you, might’ve been Fili next, wouldn’t it? By your thinking, this temptation would have been the 'Durin Family Blight of Erebor'.”

At this, Thorin’s sights flitted to his nephew’s bed, across the way. A spike of fear and steely readiness shook his bones, unseen. He hadn’t considered that. 

“You think… he would have done the same?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged a little lightly. “- and even if he did,” the fact remained, “Would you have turned away from his side because of how it changed him?”

A quick, sharp blurt, “Never.”

Of course, you wouldn't. I smirked through it. 

“And do you think I wouldn’t be telling him the same thing I’m telling you now? It’s no less true, no matter who in your family this applies to.”

This was funny territory, playing hypotheticals in reverse– to rework the past rather than guessing the future. The Company thrived on telling me visions of Erebor our whole way here; didn’t give a second thought to the life I’d left behind, and instead fed be images that I wasn't totally certain I believed at the time. Plus I’m still not sure where I stand on the whole ‘cursed gold’ situation myself. That sounds like the kind of thing from faerie tales. 

–Then again, here I am in Middle Earth… so I’ll be shutting up now.

“Point is, whatever happened when you first came here is no reason to abdicate your throne, Thorin.”

A little, thoughtful hum passed in the moment, though he didn’t look altogether convinced. 

Thorin's sights still flickered to Fili, thoughtfully as he pondered his nephew. 

I stopped him in his tracks, 

“His time will come, you said so yourself.” I blocked his view with a little lean, “But now’s not the time to step down. You’ve done nothing by step up and up and up. The moment you came back to your right self, you came out onto that balcony and asked them to follow you head first against an entire Orc legion, and lead the charge yourself." 

The imagery still thrilled me. Kili made it sound so glorious- majestic. In fact- given what he’d overcome, it meant even more now.

"--You are their King– the only one they'd ever accept after all this time. And the one they'd live and sing and die for, even now."

And then– that look came back. Like a narrative was swirling around my head like Tweedy-birds, Thorin looked me over like a man dazed.  

Y'know, to put my finger on it, he stared just the same as he did at every stop and rest we’d taken from the Rolling Hills to Dale. He’s mulling over things I’d said, trying to ‘get me’. I hoped he’d be remembering the good ones:

'It's coming, Blue Eyes. You've earned the rest that comes at the end of this- even if I have to beat it into submission. I've got little arms, but sheer Southern spite to back it up.-- Don't believe me? I'll do it!'

'Yknow I may not have a magic 8-ball in front of me, but I see a couch in your future. A couch, a bed of ridiculously-sized pillows, a hot bath, and all the mead you can drink. (No, Nori, I’m not a wizardess! NO, it's not real magic-It’s an expression!)'

'Home is coming; peace is coming- for you, and everyone else. Please, for the love of God, take it when the time comes.'

You've suffered enough.

You've suffered enough.

You've suffered enough.

Wait… 

Oh God, Thorin’s one blink away from crying. 

And I would too, if I wasn't careful. Sympathetic crier..

Was I that good at making folks emotional?? Didn’t take much around me, apparently. Balin, the Ri’s, Kili, even Bombur that one time I sang a flipping Hamilton song. (Then again, if you don’t choke up at ‘Burn’, do you even have a heart?)

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for the worst of things, Thorin…” I shook any heady mush away. “But seeing you now, I'd take every ounce of that dragon-sick memory from you if I could, if it'd only take that poor look off your face."

Thorin pardoned the sentiment with a brush to my hands entrapped in his. 

"N'yway, I think… Even at its worst?… It's nothing I wouldn't have loved you through."

The bleary haze sobered, Thorin flickered to life.

"Loved?" he asked. 

What could I say?

…well. Yes. “Love,” I decided. “Present tense.”

Not the finest confession, but we’d danced around the label so far and said everything but the three words to each other. 

I knew it, felt it, even if I’d not said it. 

And yet… I don’t quite know what I was expecting, but Thorin sure didn't melt into a full-on puddle at whatever I said in those imaginings. Not as he did now. Blue Eyes just centered back on my hand and sniffed his emotion back. I think I rendered him speechless, until he glanced up he chimed into his regular, deep timbre,

“Master Oin,”

I turned to see our lovely healer Oin in his element, with a massive tray harness coming up on my right. His vending case of herbalist goods was traded out to what he usually must work with in an infirmary, filled with all sorts of things; namely bandage rolls, compresses, and sacks of medicine pouches. Just in time for the King’s daily dose. 

“Aye, got yer breakfast in ye already, Thorin? Gonna have to keep you, ‘round, lassie,” Oin’s free hand batted at my shoulder and shook it, “Pulling teeth to get him to eat somethin’ down last night, it was...”

I gave Thorin a bit of a look, to which he muted an eye roll. 

“Call me childish all you like,” Thorin droned, “But my stomach was in knots, in both senses of the word.”

“And ye know what helps that along? Bit of this, bit of that– and a solid meal in you to settle in!” Oin’s curmudgeonly side kicked into high gear, pointing at just the sorts of things Thorin needed to get well. Of all his patients at the moment, seems the one that needed the most ‘patience’ indeed was the King himself. 

Dwalin teased me just earlier that I might need to keep on snack duty for the foreseeable future, just to make sure no one keels over. 

Gotta say, this wasn’t the most ideal timing, given we were most definitely interrupted, but I slid off the bed with a happy step, straightened the covers to let Oin have his space.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I cleared the way, and to Thorin, “And I’ll gladly check on you later with a bite of lunch, huh?”

“Please do,” Thorin answered at the ready. A touch softer than he just quipped back to Oin, but he returned to his usual self as Oin chattered along with the usual rounds of questions about every bit of his body and if it still hurt the same.

Thorin was a hard read most of the time– but never to me, and not about what we’d just talked about. There was no mistaking that soft look in his eye that promised more; he smiled back when I took his empty bowl with me.

I nodded to them both as I left, making an effort to keep a snarky smile back at his puppy-like expression that all but apologized for the intrusion out loud. Given his state of calm, I relished in the little signs he gave that he was feeling better in more ways than one.

I’m not a long-time friend of his by any stretch; our time together so far has been but a blink in the span of his life… but I’m so proud of him. And truthfully, I’d follow him anywhere.

A Scar and its Story

Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)

Words: 1,836

Ratings: Teen & Up

Warnings: (TW: for descriptions of face scarring, just in case)

Summary: She could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things any soul here in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything.' This line of thinking got Tessa through watching each of her Dwarven friends heal. But the whiplash, the pains the mind and body remembers, and especially its scars… those seemed hard for her to forget-- even as she looks at Thorin's face and its new story to tell.

A/N: As if Thorin could ever be anything but beautiful in her eyes... Tessa still worries over the scar Thorin has- and what it reminds her of. Set after the events of 'Better Angels' if you've not yet checked it out! Not required, but fun to enjoy sequentially. Thank you for the likes and comments for my OC already! Tessa and Thorin send their love~

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Tessa really tries not to, but her eye drifts to the scar on Thorin’s forehead. 

Following Dwalin to the infirmary she'd gone pale and showed a worried eye in front of the healers that she couldn't hide in time. Based on how bloody it had been– seeing the King unconscious when she first gone to see him after the Battle- the worry from all sides was understandable. Everyone was concerned for him, chiefly his nephews. Though in her mind, the sight of all of her dearest friends in pain hurt Tessa for far longer than the few weeks for their war wounds to settle into scars.

It's hard not to remember that day; even as lovely as it was to be honest about her feelings for him... Things were still fragile, tender, and it was growing into something more each day. Thorin carried on so beautifully; regally, and in perfect stride once he could walk again.

And she’s never said a word on it; perhaps to her detriment. Maybe that's why it's still hard to speak of it.

The only time Thorin himself mentioned looking this way in recovery was when he assured her, 

'Dwarves wear their scars as leopards their spots. I was bound to earn some of my own, one day.' 

Thorin does say it like a thing of pride. When others hearken to it, their joshing praises gives him a devilish quirk of his now split brow, knowing it as a loud and proud claim ‘he won’.

…but that very fact is what flitters around– unsettled in her stomach. For Tessa? She knows it as a sign of just how close she was to losing him . Time and some emotional distance away from the Battle brought her to push those thoughts far from her mind for a while.

But that changed today.

"Have I misplaced soot on my face?" Thorin asks, bemused.

Thorin caught her staring and she was nearly too shy to admit it,

"Oh, no!" Tessa gently brushes his coat lapel back, along with his hair in a corralling gesture. "It's just--" 

Tessa stopped herself, and lied. 

"-- I'm just happy to see you."

To see you. To be seeing you, everyday. 

A month ago, that hope of seeing Thorin Oakenshield alive and well had been stamped to near-embers. 

"It's my joy to see you, too~" Thorin takes her hand to kiss it; yet she avoids looking while he does so. "... Though, I think that look in your eye is far from joyful." 

A guilty pang caused Tessa to force a smile onto her face, 

"Gosh.. I didn't mean to worry you."

In a moment, she turns self conscious which Thorin reads, too– he clue? She stopped walking. 

Thorin is seeking some sort of answer as he watches for her next words. The way he looks at her so intently– fishing for some reason why she’s hedging away from him when she’s done nothing but look for a way to stick by his side over the past weeks, relearning the Mountain together… 

Tessa knows this change of character must look odd to someone like him. She hated this feeling.

Thorin noticed her flit a glance to the hall behind him; with a tip of his head to block her view, he redirects in her line of sight. Right back to him.

"We have time, Sanâzyun.” Thorin eases with those happy high brows, “What troubles you?" 

Honesty it is … 

Steeling her nerve and pulling up all the calm she can offer, Tessa squared up to Thorin for closeness. Confident enough they weren’t going to have an audience around… she braved the chance and held onto his hand.

"Everyone sees this as a warning:” Tessa combed back Thorin’s part with a few fingers; only light enough for a quick touch, “-A less-than-gentle reminder, should anyone dare try to test a king so great as you. As they should, obviously . No matter who you ask, the sight of a new scar is the same; they see it as a badge of honor.”

Tessa swallowed her hidden truth, thick in her mouth. 

“But…I catch it in the light sometimes, too. And I'm afraid I don’t see it that way. All I can see is… well… how close I was to never–"

See you again – Tessa buries the thought, burns it. That’s certainly something she can't say out loud without crying. 

"--It's my saving grace," she recovers gently, "-whenever I look at you. I remember that shit-show of a day, and that, to see you with it now means we got to the other side. But it doesn’t really– I don’t know–” Tessa floundered, “I know that should be a good thing- is a good thing! I should just celebrate it with everyone else! Hindsight 'should' give us comfort, right?... 

Thorin glanced to their joined hands, then back up to Tessa with a look- between confusion and pity and that look of desperation when he tried to follow along with her rabbit trails.

Tessa could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things anyone in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything,’ Tessa thought. 

Knowing the analogy would be fruitless, Tessa just shook her head, sighing her own insecurity away.

"After all the time y’all spent getting here, it was hard seeing you like that, after fighting. Close calls scare me, Thorin. Especially when it comes to you."

 " My… ” Thorin ponders this. “The mark– it pains you?

 Tessa’s lip quirks. Not necessarily, but what she does feel strikes a chord of longing.

 "Pain's a strong word.” Tessa confides, “--but, close enough." 

No one was in earshot, but still she glanced about for any prying eyes.

His face is deadly serious, likely feeling he missed something gravely important.

"I did not know you felt this way..."

"Because it's silly! And selfish– so of course, I never brought it up."

Thorin’s hand tightened on hers,

 "You are not selfish."

"I mean over voicing any fussing over it.” A hand refreshed her own part while she kept her pm interlocked with his, “I figured saying anything comes off as vain, which isn't my issue at all with it. Yours is the one opinion who matters, not mine.”

'Its not like you could ever be less beautiful to me…'

Despite her fighting it against the memories of a bleeding and gashed Thorin, mist flooded Tessa’s eyes– even through her light laugh. 

Thorin called her by name, “Look at me, please.”

She sniffs back and meets his eyes again. Squared up to her again, Thorin came to hold her hands in both of his.

“You know I don’t give a single care what I may look like…” The dwarf shared with low comfort in his voice, as he confided to her just the same as he would a dear friend, “Even if I were left completely marred after The Ice, I would do nothing but speak of it; and show my grateful heart to anyone who will hear, for my second chance to live . Truly live. To lead the dwarrow who saw me through the darkness I faced to a better life. And be happy I’m alive at all…”

But as he continued to reason with what she just told him, Thorin processed her different, caring point of view,

“You say you are glad enough for this, and– for that I’m touched, but please know...the scar I carry means more to my people than just a reminder of a foul fight. And even more to me.”

Thorin brushes her eyes of the emotion at bay, watching her settle into a look transfixed on him. 

"Not a day passes... that I don't thank Mahal for honoring my wish on Ravenhill."

Tessa couldn't trust her voice’s watery delivery, but had to ask…

"What wish was that?" 

"To live past the morning light. So that I may tell those I care for, the things I'd not said before..." 

"And what things are those?" 

And with the unspoken circling the air between them -under the staggered placement of blue-flaming lanterns of the upper thoroughfare they stood upon, Thorin cups Tessa’s cheek– and draws her into a hug speaking directly to her ear.

"That you are not selfish , Tessa. You've not the bone in your body. " 

In turn, Tessa squeezes into his arms, and sinks.

Away from Thorin's gaze in the nest of his hair, the most fanciful of thoughts screamed in Tessa's mind, begging to be let out. To sort them out, she simply closed her eyes. 

Perhaps it was the cheesiest, romantic thing she'd ever thought to say, but something told her the men of this world wouldn't mind. Middle Earth is a place of the greatest folklore, but surely they had their own children's stories, too. And perhaps they didn't glorify these small marks as the testaments of their greatness, but maybe to show just how much he means to her, Tessa can try her hardest to relate to Erebor's people– to tell of the pride she has in her King...

"Thorin?"

"Yes."

Tessa swallowed her nerve,

"You-- know you're the stuff of fairy tales, right? You have to know that."

Thorin remained quiet- maybe puzzled more than anything. Inside, the tremor in Tessa’s chest was only stilled by the fact her dwarf still held her close. His head had turned, perhaps waiting for her to explain.

So, still locked in Thorin’s arms, Tessa turned in and released her guts to him: wedged by that soft point next to his ear, careful of her volume.

"Balin said," Tessa had to smile, "the stories are already going around about you: 'only a matter of time before it's set to song', like all the famous living legends are. I know you'll probably hate me saying this... but I do agree with him.

"I grew up with fairy tales too, dozens upon dozens of them– I haven't even told you them all, yet... But I think yours is the greatest one I've ever heard.” 

At her words, Thorin’s paused the sway he'd set them in. Surprised, to the point of heartache.

Tessa smirked, and threw light into her voice before she could risk looking him in the eye:

“N'who gets to say they've seen their hero save the day with their own eyes?" Tessa buried a bit into his hair, " Much less get the greatest hugs they've ever had in their life from them…"

A huff of something sweet and shy passed Tessa’s sapphire-stitched shoulder, then she heard the King’s voice just as gentle turn to talk into her ear,

"Your victor, am I?"

A short, affirmative hum.

"The Mountain's.. or truly yours?"

The massive smith’s hand came to curl her waist into him; but Tessa answered fairly,

"I guess I do have to share you ..."

Thorin's answer, practically purred by her ear, " No, you don't ."

Tessa smiled… but one that mellowed when she felt his lips caress her temple, at the same part where he himself now bore a split in the skin,

"As it happens,” Thorin teased beside her, “-you are mine, as well ."

Heart’s Mark.

Summary: In which Thorin meets his One at an inn, not too long before his Quest.

Based on my own prompt; soulmates who find each other by a mark and the other’s name in Dwarven Runes.

Fandom: The Hobbit.

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Liv.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: a little bit sensual.

Content: Dwarven Ones/Soulmates, soulmarks, pre-Quest, a bit angsty, hea, everyone lives/no one dies.

(I will be loading this entire fic to Ao3.)

The sounds of loud talk and raucous laughter jars my ears as I carefully skirt through the hazy common room with the laden plate and pint. It's no busier than usual, but it always seems too crowded whenever I'm laden with someone's supper and drink. And I have no desire to have my arm knocked and be scolded for my supposed clumsiness. Neatly avoiding a handsy fellow who's clearly had a pint too many, I arrive at my destination; the back table where the Dwarf sat, placidly smoking.

Thorin sits there quietly, drawing reflectively at his pipe and thinking about the fateful meeting with Thârkun back in Bree yesterday. For the first time in years since Erebor was sacked, he feels hopeful. As soon as he returns to his halls in the Blue Mountains, he's calling the Seven Families together, and so make the march to reclaim his people's home. His thoughts flee when the bar maid approaches with his supper and drink, and he watches her with some interest. Pity that some of these Men weren't being more respectful to her; no Dwarf would dare show rudeness to a Dwarrowdam, or her family would demand satisfaction, he thought. One drunken fool grabs at her, kindling some anger in him.

"Here you are, sir," I set down the plate with a soft clank before him, and begin to set down the pint. He smiles almost shyly- this Dwarf has the prettiest smile I'd ever seen- and reaches for his pint with a soft "thank you." As he takes the pint, his large fingers brush against mine softly; they're rough from labor. A fiery spark flits up my left arm from where our fingers touched; it ends with a tingle at the strange birthmark I'd had since birth, there on the inside of my lower arm.

"Oh," I exclaim. The tingle was sharp; thank Eru I had managed to set down everything without it spilling. Ignoring the shouts for more ale, I stand there, holding my arm.

"Did I hurt you?" The Dwarf's concerned voice resonates through me; it's deep, warm, and wraps itself around me like a lover's embrace. Such an idea brings a flush to my cheeks; he's a patron for goodness' sake, and I'm a respectable girl, Liv daughter of Wilfrid, bar maid though I am.

"No, you haven't, sir. My arm just started tingling here," touching my lower arm "right there, it's the bird shaped mark with the runes- why, what is it?"

He looks as if he's seen a ghost or something worse; his blue eyes fixed steadfastly on the mark on my lower arm, his breaths coming in short huffs of surprise. Wondering, I look too- and am speechless.

Her mark is glowing with a soft light, silvery as the thrice precious mithril of Khazad-dum. Thorin recognizes the mark; it is a raven, the Royal Bird of Erebor. It has been so many years since he'd seen that mark; only those who were soulmates to members of the Royal Family ever had the raven as a birthmark. His parents had each known the other by the raven mark to be- no wait!

This girl is a daughter of Man, a race that looks down on the sons of Durin, treats them with disrespect and scorn like beggars, and act as if they were possibly thieves ( all this hurt and irked Thorin endlessly), yet she has the mark of the raven- and the runes that clearly spelt his name on her arm. It's impossible, she shouldn't have it. He tries telling himself that his corresponding raven mark with its runes isn't tingling too, that it's just some strange after effect of the recent cold rains, but it's no good lying to himself. Mahal had made his children to endure.

"This isn't just a birthmark." I start when the Dwarf speaks to me. He is regarding me gravely as he speaks, his thumb rubbing a spot on his vambrace; I am lost in his silver blue eyes; they remind me of some mountain lake. Only they're filled with some unexplainable emotions.

Somehow instead of feeling nervous, I feel some other feeling I can't explain, now the surprise of seeing my birthmark glowing had passed.

"What is it?" I whisper, despite the loud talk and laughter drowning out my voice.

"My people call it the Heart's Mark; when a Dwarf is born, he has a mark upon his skin, usually his arm. He also has the runes of his One's name near the mark. His intended One will have the same as well. When they touch for the first time, the mark glows and each feel a tingle, running from the contact to the mark. Then and only then will the Dwarf know he has found his One. Each Dwarven family has a different Heart's Mark." He pauses, then adds softly; somehow it's almost intimate, despite us being in the very public common room. "My family has the raven as a Heart's Mark."

"The Heart's Mark. I love that term; it's- it's lovely, tender." He actually looks a little pleased, or rather his eyes show his pleasure. "Why, we have something similar, only it's called a soul mark- oh!" I freeze, realizing the significance of what had happened.

In the Blue Mountains village where I'd been born and raised, everyone had a soul mark. Mine had been considered a curse, since I never met my mate when I was of wedding age. The elders had ordered me to leave, despite my parents' pleas; if a girl couldn't find her mate, she was considered useless and unfit to be married, according to their decrees. I'd then come here to work at this small inn on the Green Way, saddened and hopeless. I was certain I was going to die as a lone maiden.

But now- "How are we soulmates? It could never work," I whisper, now that the shock of discovering my Soulmate had lifted, " surely it was a mistake. Dwarves and Men weren't meant for each other."

"It can't be a mistake. It shouldn't be." He is serious, realizing that he hadn't expected his One to be a daughter of Men. It hurts to see his disappointment- before he skillfully masks it behind those beautiful eyes. "But, maybe it is."

A loud shout from a patron ends our talk. I am all too glad to go, heart aching at the thought that I'd finally found my soulmate, but we couldn't have each other.

The bed is comfortable and warm, but Thorin can't sleep at all. Images of the girl and her glowing Heart's Mark keep passing through his mind insistently as he shifts around in the bed that was made for Men and not a Dwarf; pleasant images of her soft thick hair, her healthy curves, her eyes, and the glowing raven mark that somehow marked her as his One. Even now in the darkness, he can see his Heart's Mark glowing on the inside of his muscular arm.

It's a grave mistake that happened; she was born with the wrong Mark, he tells himself firmly. She should have a Man as her mate, not a Dwarf. Certainly not him especially; he has an uncertain future ahead, namely the quest into the East, the many dangers, and the Worm himself.

"What if it wasn't a mistake? Mahal doesn't make mistakes when he forges his children; surely the Father of Men doesn't either. You know that, Thorin son of Thrain," the soft voice in his soul whispers, "you're well versed in the lore of your people. Go to her, tell her, and don't leave until she's wearing your beads."

Thorin snorts in the velvety darkness; that last bit sounded like Dis; she'd been telling him he needed a son of his own to succeed him, despite his protests that he had Fili. With a sigh, he gets up, pulls on his tunic and boots, and is reluctantly approaching the door when a shy knock resounds upon it.

I couldn't lie there in bed anymore; the thoughts of this Dwarf being my soulmate kept coming back. It wasn't and shouldn't be possible; we were each of a different race. And yet I couldn't stop my thinking of him; his long black wavy hair with its silver strands, his broad, strong figure, his silvery blue eyes, and that voice- I cut my thoughts short.

He's a Dwarf, he's different, and somehow it's a mistake that we're soulmates, I tell myself firmly. It was probably a freak occurrence that we have matching marks.

"For shame! Eru doesn't make mistakes, you foolish, foolish Liv," my common sense scolds me, "there's no Man out there with a raven and Dwarven runes on his arm. Go to the Dwarf at once."

Quickly, before I change my mind, I rise, slip on my dress and shoes, and slip down the darkened hall. A blush covers my cheeks when I recall how I watched when the Dwarf left for his room. No one else was in this part of the inn tonight. I find the room quickly enough; I tap on the door, then stand there blushing furiously. I wouldn't blame him if he was annoyed or angry at being awakened.

The door opens slowly; to my surprise, he is up and clothed. He is equally surprised, or rather he hides it better, but his eyes soften when he sees me. My surprise increases when he says, softly:

"I was coming to you, my One."

Those few words are all it takes. He sees her maidenly blush, but her eyes show her happiness. She knows. Within a moment, the girl has entered the room. Thorin closes the door between them and the world outside, then he turns to her again. "I don't believe we've asked each other our names. I am Thorin Oakenshield."

"I am Liv Wilfrid's daughter," Liv says softly, "I was from the Blue Mountains. I came here after the elders of my village sent me away, because I didn't find my soulmate when I'd reached wedding age." Her voice trembles a little.

Naturally Thorin is angered, for his One's sake. She is too precious to deserve such ill treatment. "They had no right to treat you like that; my people treat their women with far more respect than that, and wouldn't dare cast one out!" His voice is dark with anger.

"It's in the past now, Thorin. I probably would never had met you if I had stayed, nor would they have allowed our wedding; they weren't fond of Dwarves. Please do not think of avenging me; I'm not worth that." She is trying to calm him, and apparently it works, for he feels the anger slowly departing from him. Liv has a soothing voice, comforting and soft, he thinks.

"You're worth more than what you've said of yourself, Amrâlimê," he says, "my beloved One."

Liv doesn't understand Khuzdul, the secret language of his people, but she must've understood from the the way he said it that it was an endearment, for a shy smile blossoms on her face as she approaches him. Taking her hands ( and marveling at how soft and tiny they are in his large, calloused ones), he draws her closer, then they melt together into their first embrace.

I am lost in bliss as I wrap my arms around Thorin's neck and broad shoulders; this is a dream, it should be, and I dread waking up from it. Yet my Soulmate, my One, is here and real; his heat penetrates my clothing, and his strong arms are wrapped around my waist while he pillows his head against my breast. I bury my fingers in his hair; it is thick but silky soft. He starts, then hums a little when I begin stroking it; evidently he loves it, for he relaxes against me. We just stand there, lost in the blissful feeling of having found each other.

Then Thorin raises his face to look into mine; there's a question and an awakened dark desire in his blue gaze. "Liv..." he whispers, his voice a sensuous growl. It awakens something in me, and I understand without words what he wants.

Bending down further ( thank Eru I was born shorter than most women), I place myself within reach. He cups my face in his hands, then his warm breath caresses my lips, sending quivers through me, then- his lips are moving against mine.

I moan softly, then I am kissing him in return, enjoying the rough silkiness of his beard against my hands and cheeks, his calloused fingers on my jaw, his own very masculine scent that wafts around us, and that sensuously heated kiss that swiftly enkindles a flame deep within me. When he finally parts my lips and captures my tongue in a wet, hot, open mouthed kiss, I forget myself and moan loudly.

"Hush, Amrâlimê, I want no one to hear us." Thorin pulls back enough to warn Liv. He wants no one by to witness as he claims his One; this moment is theirs and theirs alone. Indeed, the thought of this moment being ruined by some rude intruder stirs a fierce jealousy within Thorin.

"Sorry." Liv has the loveliest blush. Unable to resist, Thorin takes her lips again, relishing how soft and smooth Liv's skin is. He takes his time tasting her mouth, as she moans and kisses him back with equal desire. Her hands thread through his hair, making him quiver at her touch. Mahal, she is difficult to resist. He wants her so badly, to make her his, and plait his beads into her hair, to make her his Queen.

Presently they part, breathing hard from roused passion and want of air. Thorin rests his forehead against Liv's forehead gently while his hands reach for and clasp her waist gently. She's breathing hard, her hair is tousled, and her lips are puffy from their kiss. But she's beautiful with her glowing cheeks and eyes. Thorin feels a strong jolt of desire just looking at her. But as strongly as he would like to lay her down in that bed and make her his, he restrains himself.

"My One," he whispers, content to just hold her, "for many years, I thought I would never find you. I'd met many Dwarrowdams; none bore the raven and my name. I was resigned to being alone, like so many of my people. I didn't know that you were here and waiting, just as you didn't know I was out there."

"It was a long, lonely time, Thorin," I whisper, resting my hands on his broad shoulders, "I thought I wouldn't ever meet my soulmate- my One. My Maker thought otherwise, and I thank him."

"As do I." Thorin's broad hands take mine and he leads me to the bed. My stomach flutters, even as my lower belly warms with desire. "I will not dishonor you, Liv; while you are my One, this isn't the time nor place to be as one with you." He sighs gravely as he sits upon the bed. I sit down too, facing him and still holding his hands. While a part of me longed to be with Thorin, the rest of me was grateful that he respected my virtue. "First, I would wed you before we become one in the truest sense of the word. But not tonight, or for a time; I have serious business to undertake."

He then tells me of meeting a Wizard called Tharkûn back in the village of Bree and of a quest to retake his and his people's homeland from a dragon. My heart sinks as I listen. "But- what if you don't ever return? What would become of me? Thorin, let me come with you!"

"The Wild is no place for a woman; this will be a dangerous quest even with an army of Dwarves. I have no desire to lose you, Liv."

"I have no desire to lose you, Thorin!" I don't care if others hear my sobs and tears. I can't lose my Soulmate, now that I've found him. "If you are killed, I may die, if not, be alone again. Please don't go!"

Thorin is unmoved at first, then seeing that my tears won't stop, he pulls me close, murmuring soft words in his mysterious language. I bury my face in his tunic and cry softly. It doesn't help that his scent and heat surround me, reminding me that he will be gone, maybe to never return, on that quest of which he'd spoken of. Life was so cruel; it finally let me find my Soulmate, and now it would take him from me.

At last, I raise my head. Thorin looks so serious, but there's a deep sadness there. "Liv," he whispers, "I wouldn't go if I didn't have to. But it's my people's homeland and mine too, and it will be your home too. I must regain it back. I must."

"Will-will you come back?" I whisper tearfully.

"I cannot promise that. But if I do reach Erebor, I promise to send for you swiftly; I will send one of the ravens with a message when the Mountain is retaken. I'm sure not all of them perished when that thrice accursed Smaug came."

Thorin fingers some of Liv's tresses gently as he speaks. Her hair is beautiful; long with golden highlights amid the brown. How beautiful it would look with gems, golden chains, and mithril beads plaited into it. He acts upon it. "Amrâlimê, it is traditional for Durin's Folk to braid their One's hair with the betrothal braids and beads. Since we are, by virtue of our Heart's Marks, betrothed, allow me to braid your hair."

Despite her obvious sadness, Liv's eyes glow. "Oh yes, Thorin, please do! Do I do anything with your hair to show that you're mine?"

Thorin admires her interest in his culture; he vows to teach her the sacred Khuzdul language when she comes to his reclaimed home. "You may braid mine as well. Do not be afraid to touch it; lovers may touch each other's hair. It's very intimate; you have no idea how affected I was when you touched my hair." The memory of Liv's fingers combing through his scalp and hair sends a strong surge of warmth through Thorin. He whispers a prayer to Mahal that the quest may succeed- and that he be preserved from the madness that affected Thror.

He braids her hair then; an intricately stranded plait behind her ear that he finishes off with the courtship bead- a pretty little thing of silver set with tiny white gems. He'd made it long ago in his youthful days when he'd thought he'd find his One among his people. Now it gleams in the hair of a daughter of Men. Nonetheless, she is his One, and when Liv admires the braid, a strong swelling love for her rushes through Thorin.

Then Liv does his braid- a simpler one, though she finishes it with the rune engraved silver bead Thorin gives her. The gentle caress of her soft hands sends heat flowing through him, inflaming his desire for her more strongly than before.

I've finished the betrothal braid, admiring it as it lies alongside his temple braid, but I can't let Thorin go, not just yet. After touching his hair, my hands wander across his shoulders and arms to slide back up to clasp his face. By Eru, his beard is like rough silk under my palms; the sensation sends pleasant sparks thrilling through me. His eyes flutter shut and he nestles into my palms with a contented sigh as his hands reach for and clasp my waist.

The timeless words are there, but I am afraid to say them, fearing to seem unmaidenly. Yet a part of me wishes to say them before tomorrow comes, and we must part. I nestle closer to him, sliding my arms down around his shoulders, and am rewarded when Thorin, wrapping his arm around my waist, cradles my head in his hand and draws it down to rest his brow against mine. "I could sit with you like this all night, Amrâlimê," he murmurs, "but there is tomorrow, and my return home."

"Yes," I whisper, trying to be brave, "but take care of yourself, and send for me as quickly as possible after you reclaim your mountain."

"My impatient, precious Liv," he nuzzles my nose fondly nevertheless, "I'll send for you quickly so we can begin our life together." The rest is lost in what are apparently endearments in Thorin's own language as he pulls me against his hard chest.

It was now nor never. "Thorin, I- I must tell you something. Something important before you're- gone tomorrow."

"What is it, Liv?" His blue eyes are keen with interest and curiosity. I feel much braver now, emboldened. Pushing back his raven and silver strands from his brow, I whisper softly, only for our ears:

"I love you, Thorin Oakenshield."

He is silent for a moment, which sends my heart plummeting down into my boots. What if it is contrary to Dwarven tradition to say such a thing? Did I manage to offend him? I hitch back slowly, giving him his space.

Then suddenly Thorin is drawing my face back; his heated mouth is on mine, and before he seizes my lips in a passionate kiss, he growls sensually "I love you too, Liv Wilfrid's daughter. My Amrâlimê..."

The rest is lost as we kiss passionately, gripping each other tightly, not worrying about the morrow.

At last, Thorin and Liv part reluctantly, breathing hard and nerves vibrating from the kisses and touching. But they still can't stop touching each other; even as Thorin speaks, he still strokes Liv's sides. "Stay with me, my One, for the night. I promise you that your virtue is safe with me," seeing how she looks a little apprehensive, "I prefer to wait until after Erebor is retaken before you become mine; I wouldn't have you be called dishonorable, even though you are my One."

"I will stay, Thorin." Liv's smile is so bright, bright as fire lit gold, as she nestles closely now; her hands keep wandering across his shoulders and chest as if she can't get enough of touching her One.

She is so soft and warm, all curled around him as he drifts off to sleep; Liv is taller, but somehow she seems tinier in his massive arms, Thorin thinks. She is soft and almost delicate, not like a sturdy Dwarrowdam. But when he glances down at their arms all entwined within each other and sees the Heart's Marks glowing softly, he feels a sense of completion. She is his One, his Amrâlimê, his future Queen.

"Mahal, make me worthy of her."

Tagging list: @fizzyxcustard, @lathalea, @sotwk, @glassgulls @heilith @court-jobi

If you wish to be removed/ wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Want for Nothing

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x modern!OC, Tessa DeVon

Words: 6,404

Rating: Teen+ (inuendos, testing the waters--mmm) (18+ for spicy themes to be safe)

Warnings: no-angst confession, pining, LOTS of touching, kisses and grinding, lovely dirty talk, sweet, sweet romantic tension

A/N: a bit of fluff, bit of pining, and no small amount of delicious chemistry for these beloved characters who are FINALLY acting on their feelings... Much love to @fizzyxcustard in celebration of her recent trip around the sun... belated, but very much deserved! This one's for you, m'love 💞

Summary:

Take away the robes, the sword, the crown, and the weight of responsibility; these things leave Thorin as just a dwarf. A dwarf with pride, passion, and loyal to a fault-- and yet also easily the most honest and endearing man Tessa DeVon has met in this or any other realm- most notably, hers.

And does she ever crave him. The dance with death they faced on their Quest is over, and Tessa ever so wants to settle into a gentle ending with her Dwarf King.

The busier the two get, she'd do nearly anything for a moment alone, and when she happens on just such an occasion, she's thrilled-- only to doubt reading into the situation with one sided intentions. But what if these feelings were not so one-sided? How might she be rewarded when she brings her heart to the surface…

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There's a learning curve or two, for Tessa to learn in Erebor. Or three. It’s hard to keep count; it feels like there is a new one every day…

The Mountain is both familiar and not. The stories she’s heard on their cross country trek to the Erebor has painted a clear picture in her mind– and now, she’s seen it in the flesh and has the chance to have a hand in helping rebuild it. Her reinstated King has his mind set to restore the parts that should be redeemed back to their former glory, and to also sort out the plans for the things he wants to change. As the second of his royal namesake, Thorin II has the rare opportunity to make this kingdom as he sees fit– one to truly bring all the dwarf kingdoms into the fold and see Erebor and her people reach higher highs than his forefathers ever conceived.

And that’s a hell of an undertaking.

Not that he wished to micromanage, but Thorin has spent days slaving over each department’s planners and ledgers to get a solid master plan in place, with those he trusts at the top– because if his Company worked this hard to come home, too, he's going to see that they thrive in their new roles. There's bound to be missteps -trial and error- but the kindly voices of hardy dwarves around him will help him tackle the learning curve.

There is also the matter of his conscience– another, new learning curve of his own. Thorin must wrangle and settle the guilt of his failings… and thank Aule that Tessa promised to be here to see it through. 

He’s told her any time she’d listen that he relies on her for that blessing– the mercy that passes his understanding.

Tessa is so proud of the whole operation, of all of them– if a little at a loss of what to do, herself. Through recovery, she was able to be of help during a most stressful time; but the first night the entire Company sat together again for a reunion meal now that they’ve all healed, the questions came to how they would divide the shares, their stations, etc. Each member, to the last dwarf,  volunteered to aid Thorin however he deemed. 

The journey brought them together so closely, and none could go long without seeing each other now that they’ve been through Hell and Back Again. 

In the very beginning however, Tessa could not have felt more like an outsider. 

Welcomed as she was and tested through trial after trial living amongst them with linked arms, living in the Lonely Mountain was a new experience entirely. She might have been given nickname after nickname by the men in her life: from playful to annoying, to something called Sanâzyun… but she was and could never forget, in every way, a stranger to this land: to the Race of Men, Elves, to the dwarven kind.

… to the very World of Middle Earth. 

So while she rested her head each night under the assurance that she had a secure place here and plenty of friends who cared for her, Tessa made no mistake to try and assume she knew it all from a few stories and some history lessons around a fire. 

Out of respect, she nearly excused herself in the early meetings when they talked over all this– but Thorin stopped her in her tracks each time she made to stand. In perfect grace, he’d extended an offering to her, 'naturally'. He swears she'll want for nothing if she chooses to stay, 

'Celebrate your wins, yes. But please, share in this– our joys and our revelry as well– this home we've won together. This Mountain is yours to call home if you wish it so. You bled for this just as we all have. I cannot imagine a soul here would not want for you to stay, Tessa.'

So she agrees to stay… like she was going to choose anywhere else. Everyone cheered when she gave the news.

So they each set to work. 'Rome wasn't built in a day', and neither will Erebor. Tessa decided to shadow Balin and find the nooks and crannies that can be preserved. Royal Quality Control– similar enough to her old job, she reasoned. She learns the Mountain home best this way... though in doing this, she also caught a bout of 'smog sickness' from the lower mines at first– the third learning curve. She had to learn the power of hydration in the hot forges and the importance of a good, well-fitting facescarf.

But as with all new things, these stumbling blocks were all teaching lessons: Tessa’s to find her place in this world,  and Thorin’s to not sweat the small stuff and to try and rest himself.

–and maybe learn to come to terms with his heart’s feelings too. Tessa’s a bit ahead of him on that front… 

It's been weeks since their last talk on the subject;  of their undeniable chemistry. Rather than put a name to their draw to one another, the dwarf King and his odd, other-worldly Darling with her funny flat twang of an accent have remained in a dance of sorts, ever since… and Tessa -poor thing- has never quite forgotten what's all been pushed to the side and gotten in the way.

Perhaps, she wonders as she slips on her long sweater atop the layers of embroidered dress, I can snag him aside for a little chat tonight. God knows he needs a break. Maybe I'll pay Dwalin for a good distraction, some whiskey– yeah, that'll do it.

So, with a smirk, Tessa slipped a bottle of her personal stash from her makeshift bedside table, wrapped it in a leather skein, and set out into the Hall at Fili's call for her. 

Here Tessa found herself surrounded by the brashest blend of personalities in what was beginning to be actually a very relaxing moment... At dinner, the Company had all been merrymaking and having a blast of it. There's been builds, a hog tying, and something called a 'Stumpfest': which for those out along the mountainskirts, that was a success called for a celebration. Tessa will take any excuse to open this whiskey again. 

Then as the evening dwindled on, the stories began; clusters of family and friends telling their tales of old, and thankfully, making an attempt to include Tessa as much as possible. It often felt like a personal storytime to her, whenever her boys took the helm of a conversation. 

'Ye won't believe this next one lass, just wait till ya hear-'

Good thing Tessa brought the whiskey for the occasion- she'd need it for herself after all these gory war stories…

Across the room where Heads of House have gathered for a meal, Thorin was actively blurring the lines between work and play as they speak. His sidebars, from what Tessa could vaguely tell were ones of nostalgia which segued into his current happenings quite well. Still, she'd listen to him all day if she could. 

Everyone at the table, and truly everyone in Erebor, sees their king as infallible, immovable and without any chinks in the armor– never knowing that his biggest enemy is himself. After all, his fatal flaw is never turning that brilliant mind of his off. Funny, Tessa thinks to herself, that he'd be a prime candidate for Redbull or Five Hour Energy advertisements for as much as he complains about not having the energy to get through the day. Though in the warm din of the evening fires blazing across the fire stones, he'd gained a second wind through a pint or two of his favorite ale.

Tessa snuck a glance from where she sat among a circle of master storytellers; namely her dear Bofur and Nori. Even with hilarious sources of distraction right next to her, she’s unable to part her sights from Thorin for long. He’s just– captivating. Even here - at the end of the day with his hair down and tunic untethered to the low point of the neckline. He’s irresistible. And not helping Tessa’s endless pining of him…

As the hour dragged on, she was pleased to see Thorin laugh and ease himself of those hard lines of focus he wore– and was hit with even more delight when he met her eyes with rapture and ultimate fondness, even from across the room. It was electrifying, every time, to have his focus all on her. (What she wouldn't give to have a way to speak mind to mind, because she cursed the distance between them whenever he looked at her like that.)

Sure enough though, the pull to be by his side was too strong– and he, too, beat her to the same draw. 

Thorin came to her circle of conversation, where Bofur was regaling another far-fetched story Tessa assumed was toeing the line of fantasy. While he didn't react to the outbreak of laughter that ensued, Thorin spoke above them on the downbeat, begging the group to allow him to borrow Tessa– effectively excusing the pair 'for a quick review while she has the time'. 

Tessa assumed this was a lovely excuse to take a walk, as they left the hall and into one of the upper corridors.

–but it wasn't. No, he's actually picking her brain and trying to find the right bit of parchment in the Mapmakers Study to show her something, and swept her away to help him look. 

For a moment, Tessa did find this adorable: Thorin, flitting about mumbling a decade's worth of history as if she can hear him properly, explaining what he's doing. But it's just his way of trying to catch her up to speed, so she took their outing as a dear expression of that. 

Inside this room, Tessa found a little perch beside the table she happened upon. It's ancient and caked with rubble, dust, and stacks of books. Oh, and of course, Dwarven scabbards; because who in their right mind in Erebor would find themselves without their steel at their side, even one abandoned generation ago? The mess was a funny sight. Careful of nicks and splinters, Tessa minded where she sifted through, all while Thorin dug around like he owned the place speaking only in fragments- sorting his thoughts as he did the hidden treasures laid out before him.

A comfortable quiet passed between them, leaving Tessa to a host of thoughts in her inner dialogue. When Tessa recalled the memories and stolen moments they shared like this– the ones they typically came so close to talking about, but were always interrupted for one reason or another– the flair of impatience reared up.

Thorin's promise, especially.

So, Tessa broke her waiting silence,

"You said once, 'I wouldn't want for anything'. Not while I lived here, right?"

Thorin only barely cocked his head, still on the hunt for whatever he was searching for. 

"Mm, that's right," he offered blindly. "Why do you ask."

A knife's hilt caught her attention. To admire the goat's-leather handle, Tessa picked it up and leveled it on a finger– and kept her gaze from him, as aloof as she can manage, 

"Well I gotta say…" she lightly sighed, "If the taste of what I had in Laketown is any indication, I'd say I'm pretty neglected."

Polite quiet was thrown out of the room– by Thorin’s hand on the table rolling something off it by accident. 

The sound turned Tessa towards the clatter, and then to her lovely companion. Completely puzzled, Thorin looked up to her newly alerted. Concern coated that expression.

Tessa made a concerted effort to keep her face as neutral as possible. Really sell the blasé look to him;

"On the back porch?..." Tessa threw the memory into the open. 

Tomorrow would be the blessed day that’s been over a year in the making: the day that would see the dwarves reach Erebor, and the buzz about Bard's small home couldn't be more lively. With the exception of Kili's room where he fought with sleep and the aches, the Company had trouble getting a good night's rest when the journey would be reaching its end in a matter of hours– when they'd take the boats from Laketown and see their home again. Yes, this was the night before they take on their last stretch of road, so Tessa joined Thorin on the balcony for their nightly chat– presumably their last peaceful one for a while.

He's wearing red tonight. It's a borrowed shirt and decidedly too long in the arms– and yet he pulls it off with a rugged finish. He could don any color and he'd look amazing… even though the Durin blue is the natural choice. Surely it will return after a wash day gives it new life.  

Threading his arm, relaxed, Tessa keens in the cool of the night and said she'd decided to come outside to simply enjoy the view while she has it. –but as he noticed she's looking right at him when she said the words, Thorin settles into the moment's respite with her, comforted as never before- and squeezes the hand laid atop his. 

Didn’t last long, this stretch of magic and attraction. When picking up the sound of Bilbo and Balin wandering out the door on the far side of the dock to talk with him, Tessa took her leave; well, not before she snuck a kiss on Thorin’s cheek before he can turn and say otherwise. But words never came in his surprise: only action.

It’s so fast– Thorin catches her wrist back, pulls the palm over where his heart beat, and gives Tessa a real kiss for the very first time: warm and firm due to how close she was. 

The pair didn't notice since Tessa bluffed so well, passing them and the Company with that stolen moment with the King all to herself. Secret kept, she simply beamed in what looked like pride to the outside, after slipping inside and losing herself to drink and a buzz that had nothing to do with the wine. 

A tense parting would come the next morning… As Kili's health waned, Fili stubbornly set standing by his brother’s side, the Company received an earful of even more warnings about the Mountain's curse, and poor Bilbo fluttered about more nervous than he'd ever been. Before they set out from the city, when Thorin asks Tessa to stay in Bard’s home and care, she agrees because it's obvious: she'd protect his family without question and understands Thorin to-a-tee. He worries for them both, his sister-sons, but in turn, Tessa makes him swear to be careful until they can rejoin him. He gives his word as best as possible- as the Uncle, the Leader, and something more... 

Under the little half canopy, some wooden chimes blew their way in the breeze as a send-off song of their own. Nothing more to promise as she knew nothing truly was, Tessa offered Thorin as confident a smile and 'go get em' as she could manage. 

But as she heads inside, Thorin catches her elbow again to make her stop. She's thrilled her brave show of affection wasn't a dream, when the dwarf cups her head and kisses her goodbye again in private where no one can see them: under tarps, caring touch, and broken bits of light above them… shedding what hope they could offer this tired, wooden corner of the world .

–And it all fell into place; each line of Thorin's confusion dissipates as he realizes just what Tessa means. 

What's more is his response, interest seeping in: 

"Is that what you want?"

Tessa cocks her head. All too demurely, mind you– sliding a hand back through her hair's part, the flirty act deliciously fluffed it up. She's feigning innocence, but even the smallest of moves all but scream how she's presenting herself from the chest, out. 

True, Tessa wants his kiss again.. But she wanted something even deeper, felt herself wanting for more than just that one brief connection on the surface. 

She yearned for every bit of Thorin: those moments of pride she’d observed in public, as well as these intimate ones here. She wanted his heart, his mind, his kindness, his righteous  rage… she wanted to taste every story he’d gift her, and wrap herself up in that voice for the rest of forever. 

So in short? Yes; she wanted him. 

But this behavior… this is a wager. A huge limb she's leapt onto. 

Whatever Thorin was looking around the desk for her to see went forgotten. Instead, he chose to close their gap. 

With steady steps, he saunters close to his fairer company– dangerously eyeing her face, to her neck, to the slope of her chest, and to her eyes again. The move forced Tessa into a lean back onto the desk, pinned. Under such dazzling eyes, she just holds back Thorin's stare with a saucy, hidden smile.

"The lady wants for a bit of attention, does she?" 

Thorin soothed the woman in reach as he framed her perfectly, hands bridged on the desk on either side of her. 

"Just a bit, maybe," Tessa slides her hands along his lapels- not so cautiously anymore. "Not to be an inconvenience, Your Majestic-ness…"

With a careful eye, Thorin outlined her features as he looked her over, ignoring her jab and seeking the intention underneath. He's no simple-minded man- he sees everything in a word: what she says and what she means, even in her jests. Something akin to doubt crossed his face as he spoke his mind, 

"I'd not been certain… Forgive me if I cast the wrong impression your way," Thorin sought her forgiveness through a tender touch of her arm, "Tessa, I've only ever– I've tried my utmost to carve away time to you, as you rightly deserve. Though I’ve not presumed or demanded so…"

A lovely flip bashed against Tessa's chest, her desire: spurring her nod of the head to placate his worry. 

Thorin asked further, meekly,

"Am I to believe you– might feel as I do? Regarding that night, and… the morning that followed, and the– Mahal, what you said in the infirmary…" Thorin winced at the shared memory; indeed, reading into things too late. 

Tessa bopped her head again, a subtle way to show her heart lies with him without a doubt in her mind. That it wasn't too late…not when she'd given her reason for staying, why she'd stay in Thorin's corner, and the reason she'd keep coming 'round: 

'Love– present tense.' 

"Feels like ages ago, but– yeah." Tessa confessed. "Kinda hoped it wouldn't be a one-time thing," A small, enticing smile tinged the side of her mouth. 

"I feel a fool all the more, then," Thorin chuckled as he swept Tessa into his arms more comfortably, "I truly have been distracted, haven't I."

"I don't think a single person here would blame you, Thorin. You're more than busy– you're booked three or four times over, hon," Tessa laughed herself, sinking into his arms. "Your people's King comes first, and I know that; and I can behave myself well enough on my own between my sightings of the guy."

Thorin's look softened upon her. He clearly wasn't content with this status quo.

"And it's not like I feel ignored, not in the slightest! M'only–" Tessa trailed off, turning coy again and fixating on all these details up close; the stiching and braidwork she'd come to associate with this more illustrious form of 'Thorin', "--just finding myself craving a certain someone's attention sometimes. Just from one, particularly regal source, busy as he is…"

With his palms swept up her corseted sides, the dwarf before her teased her right back. To her delight– Thorin likes to play, too.

"And whose attention is that?” he asked lightly, “There are several dwarf lords here tonight, all from noble blood. Whose attention have you sought after, so patiently?..."

Breathless as she locks in on his lips and gives a playful little smirk, Tessa hug hims loose around the shoulders.

He's got her: snug in tight, in perfect space to nuzzle noses, close to speaking into her partially open mouth,

"Tell me, Tessa~"

His Darling swallowed. Won't take much, she'll be caving any moment now. Broken and breathy, Tessa stood stock still beside herself. Her chest heaved with the words,

"-'d like yours."

Thorin rumbled, "Louder."

"Yours." Tessa's shudder.

A happy, low moan came from Thorin in response, his forehead dropping to hers for a nuzzle. What she'd been reduced to by this man's voice…breaking eye contact from that gorgeous face to study his neck.

"Shyness, from you. Wherever did this come from, pretty thing?"

Forget shyness and patience. Tessa whines, tipping her head up for a kiss.

"Thorin, please."

The dwarves' King quiets her with a devilish hush of his lips before collecting her hair back and capturing hers in one fell swoop. But one right after another, Thorin easily lost himself in the sensation.

 Just as guilty and greedy for so much more. 

Breaking for labored breaths and a too-long glance, a delighted smile lit up Tessa's face, and one in equal measure to his. 

Giving him attention back, Tessa's hands cupped his strong neck and jawline, fingers teasing deliciously down to his beard before seeking a path through his hair like he'd done to her. This earned a straight growl and a deliberate step forward to pin her to the table-- to the point where Tessa felt Thorin's 'presence' in every sense of the word.

She sighed his name, like she could breathe it until the end of time to sustain her. For Tessa, it was easy, and right off the tongue, to react like this at the lack of room, distracted by his press to notice him straying to lap at her neck now. 

Paws cradling her to him, Tessa's stance spread to let her leg give out and lift on instinct. 

Reading her moves by touch, Thorin yanked behind her knee to prop her up against the surface to fit himself to her. She was pretty sure a knife hilt and some empty scabbards laid flush against her bottom, but she barely cared.

"Thorin--" Tessa lightly sighed and swallowed for control. Her head buzzed from within, and echoed by his moans answering hers, "some--ah.. Don'-- nnng d-door?"

"I don't care." Thorin growled in a deep place in his chest. "Let them come. I've waited for you long enough."

Tessa gawked: has he??

She could chuckle now, she's that relieved– but gasped at the sensual kiss and light suck to her ear. Thorin teases the stud between his teeth. Nuzzling her back to center, he mumbled something delicious in his native language before his mouth was yanked back to meet hers again by way of slightly trembling hands.

There's no hope now; Tessa's addicted. Now locked in, she bit along Thorin's bottom lip to claim him– wordlessly crying out 'mine' to his lips.

The game of back and forth wound up with Tessa being hoisted fully onto the table, Thorin's hands petting just about any curve he could reach. Fingers long since tugged her collar down so he could worship her jewel-adorned chest, one palm braced above her as she has him locked between her legs by the waist, making out with him half atop her. 

As her sights stayed fixed on every bit of his regal features, Tessa's exploration of Thorin's chest and arms' reach had him heaving heavy, excited breaths when they broke away-- each huff exerting intense restraint to not bowl her over and lose himself in her entirely. The sight thrilled her.

While she held onto his pillar of a bicep, Tessa gave Thorin's neck an extra dose of care and took advantage of the angle to whisper all sorts of nothings up to him– anything to break his damn restraint and give her some sort of pressure between her hips.

"God you're gorgeous…”  Tessa sighed, the praises coming naturally. “Watching you run this place like you were always meant to... teasing with those baby blues of yours, and all I can do is watch you-- so fucking unfair."

Thorin shuddered under her tongue.

"How the hell am I supposed to focus all those days last week… stuck in that throne room, wishing I could just walk right up to that dais, n'sit on your lap... That's my spot, after all; you promised you’d keep it for me~"

"Mahal, Tessa..."

Tessa smirked, 

"Part of you wouldn't even care if I did, would you? I could wear that blue dress you like on me so much. Won't be any mistaking whose I belong to then, huh~" She whispered up to his ear. "Maybe one of these days I just..might..do that."

Thorin rattled a low growly noise, something fierce and turned on. 

He caught her neck in a light hold, tearing her from her niche under his curtain of hair,

"Nnng, must you say things like that..."

Tessa upped the ante on the sweetness, despite the lustful glare he gave.

"Would you rather I lie and say less, my darling Highness?" 

"Lies don't become you," Thorin grit out, tugging her up flush against him, "But if you're to be so lavish and colorful in your descriptions of what you'd like me to do to you, I'd prefer it to be in a warm, lit room with a good, sturdy bed– and not in the same hour I have to turn tail and face my innermost council with my 'sword drawn'."

A chortle burst from her with a lovely giggle-- the audacity, she could imagine the faces now. 

Thorin fixed a look at her laugh, straightening his waistband as subtle as possible.

"You are set on becoming the death of me, aren't you."

"I doubt you really wann’a make a deal with Death now after all this time, do you? Thought you had work to do."

"Work that you do not seem remotely interested in partaking in right now, little minx."

"I am interested, I've always been interested," Tessa sang up to the object of her affections, "Just thought maybe you deserved a break–" Tessa eyes him back with a glance... and a super slow uptick of the leg,  "Just a nice, little distraction."

Thorin pressed in at that front leg advancing. He groused into her shoulder, inlaying a kiss between his thoughts. 

"What was that?"

"A desperate dwarf's plea, my darling dove." Thorin moaned at the base where her neck and shoulder met. "'Have mercy on this stubborn soul.'"

"Hey~ m'not trying to embarrass you," Tessa smooths his hair back and directs him by the bearded chin to face her, "Just want you to feel the same as I do. Just as good, just as special."

"My special one, you are." 

Thorin mouthed at her cheek after a sweet kiss, continuing, 

"--and how I'd enjoy showing my special one just how special she is–”

Tessa sank into his arms tightening around her waist, giving in to his support.

“For Mahal as my witness,” Thorin all but sang into her ear low and clear, “I'd not show my beloved my efforts in this musty place. I'll not have her on a desk that's not been touched in who-knows-how-long when I commit every blessed inch of her to memory…”

Good God.

Thorin rakes through her hair before the poor thing could speak, could think- 

“No; I shall have her on the finest bed in these Halls. Nothing in earshot but a fire raging: crackling the air around us, accompanied by that perfect sound of every sweet noise I drive out of her- filling the Mountain itself. Every last beg and moan and sigh and cry. I take my time. I do not rush, and I will not allow her to hold a drop of her sweetness back from me. And believe me, Sanâzyun, I will know."

Tessa... stopped working. 

Then he promised again, 

"You will want for nothing… whilst you are under my care and my house. Not now, nor until my last breath." Thorin pulled back to hold her gaze to him again, "Does that please you, my sweet, neglected One?"

The tiniest noise escaped Tessa-- not unlike steam from a teapot-- but was silenced as Thorin sealed his filthy promises with a lavish kiss to her jaw. 

The rest of Tessa's neck bowed, compliant; leaving Thorin with the room and to he time he willed to carry on with adoring attention to her nape, all while massaging up her leg through her dress.

… –at least until an oaken door flung open in a crash against the wall. 

Tessa flung into panic mode- what she must look like, a wanton thing; Thorin forced them both to duck, quick now, under the desk. 

Once landed on her ass and tucked in by Thorin's massive, immovable arm, Tessa choked on her laugh– heaven knows why they're doing this... But Thorin simply held her: back flush against him with the unspoken swear to not move a muscle.

"Will Mahal in His Grace please give me a reason not to whack this oaf, please! I need a sound voice of reason for once, THORIN!! 

"I'll show ya REASON, you ancient pair a' donkey's buttocks!!" 

Tessa looks at said King over her shoulder to catch sight of it; Thorin simply rolls his eyes and firms up his mouth. 

Tessa mouths, 'donkeys buttocks?' It took everything to keep her from giggling– this scene is ridiculous. Thorin however, while keeping a sharp ear on where the others were in the room, met her silent question with a cheeky wink. They listened on– praying to every spirit that their surprise company would just leave. The wandering hand cupping Tessa's waist spoke volumes as much….

Which worried her– because she could hear steps all around the backside of the table.

She can't really believe this: two grown adults were hiding from from their dearest, closest comrades and kin. 'Like randy bairns', Dori would say… Of course, he's presently debating with Gloin something fierce. 

"Well surely you gotta give him the context, Dori!!"  Fili chimed in to lay down the law. Tessa could imagine the hand motions he's giving to seem his most princely. "Be fair, now! Tell him who's really got the grievance." 

"The lords over the Guild are making a right mess of the armory- we got one chance to do this right, and it's all gone to straight horseshit. It doesn't even take a novice to know what a mess it is- ye can't even walk straight down the Hall, there's rubbish everywhere!" 

"I TAKE OFFENSE TA THAT!" Gloin fired up again, "I've given a GENEROUS allotment to see to the– bah, just as- Not asking ya to come see fer yourself like a nanny," grace reentered the Redbeard's tone, "but- Thorin, you in 'ere?"

A hand petted along Tessa's ribcage. Not a word. 

"You sure he's in here, lad?"

"Saw 'em come in here myself…" Fili mused low in his chest.

Tessa bit her cheek against the pang of nerves for distracting Thorin in the first place. Then, a silent nip to the soft spot on her still-exposed shoulder changed her feelings; she became confident she needn't worry if he wasn't.

"Don't exactly got the best track record of watching where folks are going tho, are ya boy."

"That was one. time." Fili groused, never living down the 'Ponies Incident of the Spring'. "Fine. Let's go your way, Dori."

The two bickered on with an exhausted Fili following suit. But by Grace, Favour and Luck, at the sound of his nephew's grunt to close the oaken door again, Thorin let his head fall back on one of the table supports. 

The sigh that left him was tired and worn. 

Tessa slunk back to recline against him- more across his lap so that she could see him fully, 

"Popular mister you are, huh?"

Thorin bristled at even his closest blood relative who left the room. "Only ever at the peak times I wish not to be."

Tessa chuckled at Thorin's interrupted expense, but snuggled up to him all the same. Naturally he welcomed the cuddle, and coincidentally helped her heart slow down a bit at both their rush of passion and the scare. With a shadowed curtain over them, the pair out of the low lamplight, this hiding spot did wonders for the senses and made everything feel more cozy between them– yes, even criss-crossed on the cold floor. Thank goodness for the linens over the table.

Reminded Tessa of those tarps that gave them shade in Laketown. How similar this all felt, a nighttime deja vu rather than the day... 

"Suppose I might be the selfish one, after all–" Tessa stomached her guilt. "This is just this sort of thing I was trying to avoid..."

"What do you mean?"

Tessa truly felt juvenile now, cooped up and hiding from prying eyes. 

"This." she sassed, "Crawling around like children, trying and almost failing to keep a secret thing going?"

Thorin gave a naughty laugh at this, one that betrayed his years, too.

"Now that you mention, who's to say this need be a secret, really..." 

"You, apparently," Tessa wrenches back to look Thorin dead in the eye, "You're the one who hid us under a flippin' table!"

"Because you were nearly about to faint at my next words– and I'm not letting my nephew see either of us in this state!" Thorin laughed, incredulous. "Imagine what you'd might have cried out for the whole neighboring quarters to hear, had I carried on just so-"

And she did indeed start a poor try to smother her giggles at the sheer embarrassment. Thorin tickled the daylights out of her sides until she scooted into his lap further to gain the high ground. 

While Tessa revealed in this soft spot she’d found in her dearest and most unexpected crush, the thought sunk in how quickly he did, in fact, hide away. He had said he was trying to avoid the look of losing himself, and Tessa couldn't forget that appearances - though vain- were important to him.

As much as she loved the man underneath the regalia, Thorin was the King- he and the crown were inseparable. 

"Don't tease, Thorin." Tessa heaved, breathless. It was easy to disguise her pause as mirth for a moment. 

But Thorin pored over the way her face must have changed with a careful regard,

"I am not teasing you."

He cupped her cheek then, keeping her close with a gentle hold, Thorin leaned in to brush their foreheads together. 

"What of you, my Heart," he rumbled softly, "Would you sacrifice your happiness as I have… and wait along for a mere moment's peace with the one you seek for the rest of your days when you may have it all, freely?"

Tessa's brought to tenderness by his words.

"Well.." she managed with a Southern smile, shifting to mesh her fingers with his off her face, "When it's you, I think any chance is worth it, even if it's small. Even if…."

She glanced up, to the plans laid out on the table above them,

"... this is the only chance I get to really work up the guts to tell you just how much I would want that with you."

While she couldn't read his mind, she was no fool: Tessa saw how her words affected Thorin, as maybe he never got to hear them.

Those lovely, heavy-set brows tilted and softened. 

"I'll take ya however I can getcha, yknow." Tessa tried to lighten her meaning, "I'm really not out to keep you from those who need you, hon. That list is getting longer by the day."

"And if.. I said I needed you?"

Oh how she tried not to set her hopes too high for that. And yet, she was gifted with its blessing:

" 'My people', our friends, will manage well enough on their own." Thorin brushed Tessa's bangs away lovingly, "And I for one agree with your point of view; you are right. I believe I should spare my time when I can. Indulge in that ‘self-care’ you speak of.”

The term sounded funny coming from him, and caused a smile to flicker into your lips.

“Just for a spell of rest and company every now and then can't hurt…” Thorin decided, “-if you say it really matters."

Music to Tessa's ears. 

Taking that height of heart, Thorin scooped Tessa into his lap the rest of the way. Damn the cramped space, but she made herself fit anyway.

"Maralmizi, Sanâzyun." Thorin said, as solemn as a promise that would be given by a King. 

But that light in his eyes- the one that shot into the soul when you looked at it… Tessa couldn't turn away if she tried. In fact, she melted into it, wrapping Thorin up in her arms. 

That's the look of a lover…

…Did he just say he loves me?

"Something tells me," Tessa whispered down to him, "that I think I know that one. You just spun three words, with eight very sweet letters around in Khuzdul… M'I right?"

"A fair observation, yes," Thorin chuffed in a smile, he spiraled a lock of hair around a finger, entranced by its ombre fade of color. "Clever thing."

Tessa beamed in full joy, and nuzzled into him again. 

"I may crave this sight of you all I like," he confessed, "--yet I would also see you by my side as well, Tessa. And proudly keep you there, if you wish," he gave a crooked smile, "If that will satisfy your wanting for the time being, I will make the effort to ensure you do not feel this way again."

Entranced by that smile and adoring words that came from it, 

"Not just for work?"

"You'll have it all. Merely say the word, and you’ll have the world by my hand."

Tessa rested in this comfort. She didn't want the world… just him, really. 

"...I'd like that."

And so, Thorin kissed his Tessa again with ultimate softness- and dare she say, love. 

Perhaps they’d tell the party when they came back into the room, perhaps not just yet. Perhaps they’d keep this between them for now…

Taglist: @lathalea @sotwk @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @absentmindeduniverse

^^If I've neglected any tags, please let me know, friends!

For the Fic File Ask Game: I would like to hear more about "The Touch Barrier", please! XD Sounds intriguing!

Ahhh the lovely @sotwk, thanks for playing!!

I started running with the idea of "breaking the touch barrier" and what that might look like for characters like the Mandalorian, whose whole faith and religion is centered around anonymity and secrecy... Putting his heart on his sleeve and (gasp) yes -even showing skin- in any way would be a huge step in telling who he really is through touch. So I made a 4+1 style story that showed a timeline into his budding journey into vulnerability- feelings galore in that one for my space cowboy!!

BUT

I, indeed, ran with it... And turned to some of my other loves of mine in Middle Earth earlier this last winter for something abit more romantic in nature, but no less intimate...

The Touch Barrier centers around the lovely Thorin Oakenshield and my modern-day darling OC, Tessa, who coincidentally keep falling asleep around each other--

--not on the quest back to Erebor.. but within it. Namely, Thorin's old family library. 4 times they didn't mean to, and 1 time they did~

I wanted to try and piece these story beats together through my longfic that's also in the works, but I found these moments more impactful when I put them all as a one-shot. I hope y'all enjoy the progression as much as I do, and fall a little more in love with Tessa along with me 🥰🥰🥰

//and not to worry, I plan to rename my other Mandoverse tale, as it will surely take on a new life when I finish editing the durn thing...//

Wild Strawberries

Moodboard by @linasofia 😍

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x f!OC Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal Rating: E (18+)

Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it. A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈

You can find this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures

Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed. 

Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.

Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.

And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.

That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.

Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.

Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.

After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.

“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.

“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.

“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”

Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.

He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.

He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.

“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.

“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”

“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.

“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.

“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.

“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”

“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.

He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.

“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”

“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”

A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.

“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.

“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.

“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.

“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.

“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.

“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.

“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.

“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”

“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.

This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?

Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.

“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.

“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.

Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”

“What?” she gasped.

He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.

“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”

“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.

“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.

“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.

“Aye.”

“And he agreed?”

“Aye.”

“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”

“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.

“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.

“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.

“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”

Thorin shook his head.

Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.

“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”

Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.

Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this. 

He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.

“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”

She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.

“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”

“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”

“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.

“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”

His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.

Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any. 

“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”

Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…

“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”

“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.

“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.

“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.

When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”

“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.

“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.

“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen. 

He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket. 

Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.

“Is my queen pleased?”

“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”

“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.

Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.

Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.

“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.

“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.

His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.

“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”

Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.

“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. 

As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.

As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.

“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”

“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”

With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.

“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”

“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.

And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.

Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.

***

“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.

They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while. 

“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.

“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.

“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.

“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.

She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”

“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.

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General taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry  @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512  @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @elliepie1226 @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff  @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls @evenstaredits @sotwk @theblackdeath87 @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the list. If your name is crossed out, it means that Tumblr doesn't allow me to tag you any longer.

✨ send this to ten bloggers you think are wonderful. keep the game going ! hope you're having a beautiful day darling, sending lots of love your way✨

@evenstaredits you are just the best 🥰🥰🥰🥰

As a life update, I have not abandoned writing!! Between fun summer travel and then two back to back surgeries for my poor puppy (15 month old, but he's still Baby), it's been a wild and unexpected few months. Work's also gearing up with changes all around, so while it's exciting, it's been zapping my time and brainpower-- and coffee writing hours 😭

Here's my current slate of WIPs for any and all interested:

LotR: Thorin WIP (sequel to Want for Nothing by request!)

LotR: Thorin WIP // some lovely storm comfort with our King~

LotR: Fili one-shot // my first for him that I'd love to make a full one shot!

Star Wars: Boba Fett // one shot that I might make a lil series? Techy Reader and delicious Daimyo!BoBF era Boba ❤️‍🔥

Star Wars: Paz Viszla (sequel to Just be Gentle by request; perhaps taking relationship to next level-- goobs of sweetness) + maybe it's sequel?...

Star Wars: (2) Din Djarin stories that are mostly complete! Just gotta format, land the plane, and make pretty for Tumblr 🤩

LoZ: one shots, bc Tears of the Kingdom got me in my Hyrule Brainrot Era... So many thots, so little time~~

My Star Wars content tends to do the best here and on Ao3... But I have loads of ideas so that there's something for everyone!! I hope to share more fandom goodness with y'all soon... Major kudos to my Discord family (y'all mean the world to me) for being so supportive -here, and on the interwebs- and for loving me through this unintended hiatus! I have so much reading, replying and reblogging to do...

Perhaps if I take a pure PTO day, I can catch up on everything!

Pic of my sweet puppy for good vibes-

Illustration of: “Imagine cuddling in bed with Thorin and playing with his earlobe; he chuckles heartily, and when you ask what amuses him he says that it tickles”

From: Imaginexhobbit

;)

THIS IS SO SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL. I WILL SIMPLY PASS AWAY NOW.

🫣

so uh. this is elowen lenbereth – called teladriel (or abithir, if you want khuzdul) by mr. oakenshield here from lothlórien but ventures to mirkwood to try her hand at healing the greenwood even just a little; she’s a romantic and a very soft optimist that has very idealized notions of adventure and sets out to see more of middle earth and maybe fall in love–aaaaand then meets a very handsome dwarf prince and things get a little crazy

my tolkien friends have inducted me into the fandom recently and been very eagerly explaining….literally everything to me. elowen’s got her own lore now so if ur curious let me know !! 😳💦

Participation (Ch.5)

~

Concubine

Thorin x OC (smut!!)

(part one, part two, part three, part four, part six)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, our final dwarf, Mr Oakenshield <3

MINORS DNI !!! they shag, duh...

AN; There's like no build up at the start we're jumping right in where we left off! NSFW shit right from the get-go under the cut ;)

Translations for any Khuzdul will be at the end! <3

~ <3 ~

Kaia and Dwalin stayed together on that rock for a while… long enough for Dwalin to make Kaia finish three more times. He was relentless, insatiable, turning Kaia into a sweaty, writhing wreck with his words, fingers, mouth and cock.

After Mahal knows how long, Kaia was sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around her and dragging his hand through her hair. Kaia could do nothing but lie against his firm body, humming in appreciation for his gentle caresses.

“This feels right.” She murmurs, nuzzling into his neck.

“Aye, it does, doesn’t it?” Dwalin says, his voice rumbling like thunder all around her. “Our sweet girl.” Kaia smiles against his chest, pressing a kiss to his peck before extracting her head. Giving him a dazed smile, he helps her stand up.

After being thoroughly fucked by four different dwarves, her body was certainly feeling it. Her legs were shaky and unstable, not to mention her hips ached and she was sure she was covered in bruises and hickeys across every inch of her skin.

But she had never felt so complete.

Dwalin rested a hand on her waist, his other coming to hold onto her hand. He kisses the crown of her head, and Kaia was taken back by how gentle he was in this moment. She had seen the grizzled warrior slaughter orcs by the dozen, wielding his axes as if they were an extension of himself, barely breaking a sweat in the process.

Mere minutes ago he had been holding her against him, bouncing her up and down his cock with the strength and fervour of a wild animal, his blue eyes on fire as he held her head in place to keep their eye contact.

But here he was, holding her upright as if she were a precious jewel, delicate and priceless. Kaia smiled up at him, and was rewarded with seeing his smile in return.

-

As the two approached camp, they could hear a loud conversation. Unmistakably the voices of Nori, Dori, Bofur and Bilbo, the latter sounding horrified.

Entering the small clearing, the conversation became clearer, and Kaia could clearly hear from Nori and Bofur that they were explaining Dwarvish customs in great detail to the hobbit, who was bright red and holding his hands over his ears. Dori was also red faced, telling Nori and Bofur to be quiet.

“You see, Bilbo, when a dwarrow cannot satisfy his One, it is custom for her to bring in another to satisfy her, sometimes her husband will even watch-” Bofur rambled.

“Please stop.” Bilbo says, deadpanned as he stared at the dirt below.

“Aw, give Bilbo some peace, Bofur.” Kaia calls, patting Bilbo’s shoulder as she passes.

The group turns to look at the new arrivals. Bofur’s face lights up at seeing her, whilst Nori’s eyebrows sky rocket into his hairline. Taking in Kaia’s dishevelled appearance, and the relaxed way Dwalin holds her, the group begins hollering.

“I cannot believe it!” Nori says, shaking his head. “She’s got to have broken a record for the amount of lovers taken in one night!”

“Watch your tongue, Nori.” Dwalin warns, walking Kaia over to sit next to Balin. Kaia gives the older dwarf a careful smile, anxious about his reaction to this new information.

But Balin beams, giving her a small hug, “Welcome to the family, lass!”

“Aye, welcome to the family, Dwalin!” Bofur says, wrapping one of his arms around the formidable body of the warrior in a half-hug, who rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath.

“How did the conversation with Thorin go?” Kaia asks, trying to keep her nerves at bay.

“Oh, I imagine it’s going fine.” Balin says, patting Kaia’s shoulder beside her.

“They’re still talking?” Kaia looks over at Bofur, “Why are you back?”

“Well the conversation got a bit heated and Fili basically shoved me out of it... I imagine our king did not appreciate my jokes all too much.” Bofur chuckles, walking over to Kaia to sit on the ground in front of her, his back to her. She opened her knees and he reclined back, sighing contentedly as she played with one of his pigtails.

“They’re arguing? About… well, all of us?”

“Can’t imagine it’ll be better when he finds out about Dwalin, too.” Nori shrugs, and Dori smacks him around the back of the head.

“I wouldn’t worry, dear. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”

“Dwalin!” Thorin’s voice booms across the camp, and all heads spin to see the King Under the Mountain standing at the edge of the clearing. His eyes are fiery, narrowing them at everyone present. Both of his nephews are behind him, Fili rolling his eyes and Kili looking nervous.

When his eyes fall on Kaia, his expression is tense yet unreadable, he looks away from her quickly, giving Dwalin a pointed look, before turning on his heel.

With a quiet sigh, Dwalin stands, walking over to where the king is stalking away. Fili follows after his uncle, and Kili stays put to catch Kaia’s eye. When he does, he gives her a sweet smile, looking like he wants to say something, before Dwalin grabs him around the scruff of the neck and drags him to follow the others.

“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Kaia sighs, wrapping her arms around Bofur’s neck. His large, calloused hands wrap around her forearms, pressing delicate kisses along her skin.

“I’m sure it’s fine, lass.” Balin says, but his eyebrows are knitted together.

“Why’s he mad at Dwalin?” Ori asks, scribbling away into his notebook, his eyes flickering to Kaia and Bofur every so often.

“I imagine he heard him and Kaia going at it like rabbits.” Nori says, nudging his brother.

“What?!” Kaia asks, eyes wide and heart thumping, “Did you guys hear us?!”

“No, lass-” Balin starts.

“Luckily for us.” Bilbo cuts in, his head in his hands.

“-but Thorin, Fili and Kili were talking in the cave… it’s not too far from where you and Dwalin were… well, you know.” Balin’s voice is comforting, but Kaia can feel her stomach in knots.

“They heard it?!” Kaia says, feeling her face flush red.

“I heard it.” Bofur says softly, nipping her thumb with his teeth, a clear smile on his lips.

“Oh for the love of-”

“Kaia!” Another booming yell from Thorin, and Kaia jumped in her seat. “A word.”

Looking at Thorin, she could not figure out what he was thinking. He looked tense, his body maintaining his usual kingly posture but his hands were balled up by his side. Sighing, Kaia rose from her seat, crouching to whisper in Bofur’s ear.

“If I don’t return, he’s thrown me off the cliff.” Kaia says, kissing Bofur’s temple.

“See you down there then, lass.” Bofur jokes, giving her knuckles a kiss as she leaves.

Walking over to where Thorin stands, Fili, Kili and Dwalin pass her on their way back to the group. Fili kisses her cheek, giving her a hand a squeeze. Kili rests a hand on her cheek, nuzzling her nose.

“It’ll be fine, Amrâlimê.” He murmurs, kissing her gently before he follows after his brother. She watches them go, and feels a pair of lips against her temple, as Dwalin passes.

“Don’t let him scare you, lass.” Dwalin murmurs, before grabbing her ass, “You’re ours.”

Kaia blushes as he walks away, before turning back to look at the King Under the Mountain. He inclines his head behind him, and storms away. Sighing again, she follows him.

-

The pair end up at the mouth of a cave, Kaia following after Thorin as he stomped along the edge of the cliff. They were silent for a moment as Thorin looked out at the trees around them, and Kaia bit her fingernail as nerves crept up her spine.

Neither of them had had a conversation longer than a few seconds. He would throw out commands and thinly veiled insults about her being a human, and she would offer back her own, even less conspicuous complaints about him. After a while of this, Balin and Gandalf had told them to cease their childish behaviour, and the two had left it alone. Whatever they said to one another was a short question and a one worded answer.

But now, Kaia was courting his younger nephew, fucking his older one and heir, as well as his head of guard and closest friend, and the very eager, musical miner who just so happens to be a part of his Company.

Kaia worried if he thought this was some kind of power play. Seducing three of the most important people in his lives to get to his head. Perhaps he just thought she was a whorish human who had no right to be in any kind of relationship with the heirs of Durin. Mahal knows, but Kaia had a bad feeling.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Thorin sighed. He turned from the trees to look at her, his face blank but his eyes held a fire in them. Kaia gulped, readying herself for the verbal ass-kicking she is sure to get. Hopefully it’s just verbal…

“I hear you and Kili are courting?” Thorin asks, his voice gruff.

“Uh… yeah, he braided my hair this evening.”

“I’ve been told there is more information than that.” Thorin scoffs, walking over to the cave wall to lean against it, arms folded, “Why don’t you tell me, from your point of view, what has transpired this evening.”

Kaia’s mouth hangs open, finding herself lost for words for a moment. Thorin raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to start speaking.

“How much… do you want to know?” Kaia asks, avoiding his eyes.

“Do not leave out any details.”

“Surely the others have told you enough-”

“I said,” Thorin cuts in, his voice loud and commanding, “Do not leave out any details.”

Kaia swallows thickly, feeling her heart hammering. A small part of her was a little turned on by this side of Thorin, the kingly side of him. But, she really did not need to be distracted by those thoughts when he was clearly enraged by her.

“Alright.” Kaia murmurs, clearing her throat.

“Speak up.”

“Okay!” She exclaims, feeling her cheeks go red. “The others explained dwarvish courting rituals earlier, and made me and Bilbo aware of the concept of ‘lovers’. After, I, uh, went to bathe in the river. Kili came to talk to me, and… well…”

“Well…?” Thorin urged, growing impatient.

“He told me he cared about me. Then we… well, you know.”

“Assume I do not.”

“We… made love.” Kaia mumbles, and feels herself flush harder at Thorin’s condescending laugh.

“You ‘made love’?” He laughs, and Kaia feels herself grow angry.

“We fucked.” She says, her voice louder and stabler. “He told me he wanted me, then we kissed and I pushed him against a tree and took him into my mouth. Then he fucked me against the ground.”

Thorin has gone still, his eyebrows slightly raised to indicate his surprise, but the rest of him dares not move. His breath leaves him in a short huff, and he clears his throat.

“Go on.” He says, his voice slightly raspier.

“I didn’t cum.” Kaia shrugs, “Kili was very eager and I focused on making him feel good. Fili discovered us, and was outraged to find that Kili didn’t make me cum.

“Aye, that is disrespectful, and unbecoming from a son of Durin.” Thorin muses, shifting slightly. “What then?”

“Then Fili fucked me.” She continues, feeling emboldened for some reason. Perhaps it was because she could see a slight blush across the kings cheeks, and his breath was coming out more shallowed. “He used his mouth on me, made me cum with his tongue and his fingers. Then he also fucked me.”

“How many times did you cum?” Thorin asks, his eyes dark under his thick eyebrows.

“Three times.”

“Good.” The king states, resting his head back against the wall, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her. “Continue.”

“After, Kili asked me, formally, if I would wear his courting bead. I agreed, then I went to bathe, finally. Your nephews are very distracting.” A teasing lilt to her voice made Thorin sneer slightly at her, but she could tell he was trying to keep his kingly composure.

“I do now want to hear your snide comments, girl. What happened once you went to bathe?”

“Bofur found me. I had been gone a long time and he thought that the river would be free. It was not. I was in there… wet, naked…”

Kaia lifted her hand up, dragging her finger along her dress collar, a small gesture which could be seen as nothing, but she did it with intent.

Thorin’s breath quickened slightly, but he kept himself still, his eyes trying and failing to remain on her face.

“Bofur was sweet. He was unsure about joining me at first, he did not want to make me uncomfortable. But I wanted him, and he wanted me. We fucked on the bank.”

“How?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How did you fuck? What position?” Thorin’s voice is strained, his jaw ticking as one of his hands twitched beside him, wanting nothing more than to relieve some of the pressure his trousers are applying to his stiffening cock. He had to remain stoic, but Mahal he wanted to know… he wanted to hear it from her lips…

“I rode him.” Kaia states, her hand drifting down her torso, down the valley between her breasts to settle atop her stomach, the tips of her fingers playing with the buttons.

Thorin keeps his eyes on her face, his own stony. His hands remain by his side, his head tilted back as he watches her. But he refuses to let her win this game they have started.

“Did he make you finish?” He asks, voice even.

“Yes.” Kaia smile slightly, “Twice. He let me use his cock as I rode him, and I made him cum by pulling his hair… it seems your dwarvish obsession with your hair translates to the bedroom, huh?”

Thorin scoffs, shifting his shoulders to move his hair back. It cascades over his shoulders in dark, silver tinted waves. Kaia wonders what it feels like against her fingers, if he will cum feeling her tug on it the way Bofur did…

“You seem to be unable to be fully satisfied, Kaia. You had both of my nephews and Bofur, then decided you needed Dwalin as well?”

“Four talented and handsome dwarves offered themselves to me and you think I would refuse?” Kaia scoffs, rolling her eyes, whilst Thorin’s own narrow. “I have needs, Thorin… ones which have been thoroughly seen to.”

“I am glad, because they will not be being seen to again. Not by any member of my Company.”

Kaia’s face falls, she feels her heart stop in her chest at his words. He stares at her with indifference, and Kaia feels rage bubble up inside her.

“Is that so?”

“it is.”

“And how will you go about keeping that rule in place?” Kaia asks, taking a step towards him, “Will you keep an eye on all four of them to make sure none of them sneak away? To make sure none of them lay a hand on me?”

“I will take you back to your farm if I have to.” Thorin sneers, his voice clipped, “I will not have you jeopardising this quest with your feverish desires.”

“They are not just my desires, are they Thorin?” Kaia bites, crossing her arms over her chest, “They all wanted me as much as I wanted them-”

“You are a distraction-”

“I know. You’re distracted now, aren’t you?” Kaia cannot stop the words from tumbling out, but she feels greatly rewarded by the shock on the King’s face. His mouth hangs open slightly, his eyes wide. “Is that it?”

Thorin’s jaw tightens, and he narrows his eyes at her as she walks closer to him, standing right in front of the King Under the Mountain.

“Maybe you are just upset that you didn’t get to have me first… that your cock was not the one I was fucking myself on this evening-”

“Watch your tongue!”

“Why should I need to, you can watch it for me?” She darts her tongue out and drags it over his neck, expecting Thorin to shove her away. But he gasps, his head leaning back further to give her better access. Kaia hums, licking along his jaw and pressing a kiss to his beard.

“If you wanted me too, you could have just said.” She smiles against his skin, and she can feel him swallow hard.

“I’m their king, their leader. I cannot find myself distracted by urges like this, by desires you have put into my head.”

“Have you been distracted, my king?” Kaia murmurs, feeling hm shiver against her at the formal term, “How long have you wanted me?”

“Since the morning after the storm.” Thorin responds, far too driven by his lust to care about the repercussions of his honesty. “You have bewitched me.”

“Have I?” Kaia chuckles, leaning her head back. “I am no witch, Thorin Oakenshield, whatever you feel for me is caused by no spell.”

“It might as well be.”

Kaia pouts, taking a step from him. His hands move to pull her back, but he stops himself, cursing his immediate desire to keep her close.

“If you do not want me, my king, then all you have to do is say.” Kaia says, shrugging. Thorin glares at her, his jaw tense as he looks into her eyes.

“I am a King. I am not going to be some humans lover, least of all the woman bound to my nephew.”

“Ah, see, I knew it was your pride getting in the way.” Kaia laughs humourlessly, shrugging, “If that is the case, then I shall go. If you wish it, I will return home-”

Kaia turns to leave, but as she turns her back, she feels Thorin grab her wrist. He tugs her back, pressing her against his chest.

“No. No, you will not go.” He murmurs, his mouth close to her ear. “I do not want you to.”

“I thought you said you would not become a humans lover?”

“And you were right, it is my pride speaking…” He says, his tone quieter and gentler than it had been mere seconds ago, “I… I do want you… I care for you. But… it is not easy. I feel as though the weight of the world is on my shoulders, Kaia. I do not want to do anything that would put our mission at risk. I do not want to find myself falling for you and being unable to focus on the task at hand…”

The honesty takes Kaia back, and she lets out a shuddered breath, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“I know, Thorin. You have so many responsibilities, but that can make you feel alone.” Kaia murmurs, turning herself around in his arms. Thorin’s head is bent slightly, his hair like a curtain around his head. “You do not have to be ashamed about having desires, about caring about me. And you do not have to be ashamed to admit that you cannot do this all alone. Let me be here, for you. Please.”

He rests his forehead against her own, his eyes screwing shut.

“And if I become yours, Kaia, what then? I have lost so much in this life, what if I lose you too. What if we all do? Kili loves you, as does Fili, I can tell. I have only ever seen Bofur be serious when he talks about you, and I know Dwalin would never take a lover unless she was special. You are special, Kaia. I could not bear to give my heart and body to you just to lose you as well.”

“You won’t.”

“You do not know that.”

“Neither of us do.” Kaia shrugs, tucking his hair behind his ear, “If we lived our lives in fear of what could be, we would never feel any joy. You deserve joy, Thorin. Please, let me be the one who gives it to you.”

Thorin looks up at her, his eyes soft beneath his knitted eyebrows.

“Even if we did survive this quest, and we take back Erebor… I would be king. I would be your lover, but I would also be your king. Your One’s uncle-”

“Yes and I have already bedded his brother in front of him” Kaia laughs, kissing Thorin’s nose gently. “Stop looking for reasons why this cannot be, my king. Whatever problems and issues we come across, we face them. I know that I love Kili, I know that I adore Fili and Dwalin and Bofur, and I want you to be a part of us.”

Thorin stares down at her, his eyes soft as a small smile appears across his face, “You’re going to have to ask me formally.”

“Oh, do I?” Kaia smirks.

“I’m a king, little human. I’m not a miner who you can just fuck on the side of a river, you must ask me properly.”

Kaia sighs, rolling her eyes good naturedly. Taking a step away from him, confusion flashes across his face. Before he can assume she has rejected him, Kaia gets down on her knee.

She assumes the best imitation of bowing in front of a king as she can, bending her head down as she extends one hand to him, with the other on his chest.

“Oh, noble King Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king Under the Mountain and uncle to my One. Would you do me the honour of becoming my lover? Would you fuck me hard, make me scream, drive me to the point of insanity on your cock, fuck me in every corridor of Erebor when we get there, and-”

She is cut off by Thorin taking her hand and pulling her up, right into his arms as he laughs against her hair.

“That’s good enough, ghivashel. Not very formal, mind you.” He chuckles.

“Hey, I used all of your official titles!” Kaia laughs, and Thorin wraps his hands around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

“When we reclaim Erebor, I will do you the honour of fucking you on my throne.” Thorin’s voice rumbles against her neck, and she moans as his hands travel over her body.  

“How about we start off with you fucking me in this cave, your majesty?”

Thorin pulls back, raising his eyebrow at her, “You fucked four different dwarrows tonight, and you want to go again?”

“I haven’t had a king…” She murmurs, dancing her lips against his own. He groans, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

Kaia wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as he glides his hands over her waist and hips, groping at her ass with an appreciative hum, before he grabs her thighs and lifts her up.

She squeaks as he lifts her, wrapping her legs around Thorin’s waist as he walks her back to press her against the cave wall. His lips never leave hers, biting her lower lip and causing her to yelp, giving his tongue access to her mouth.

Every moan she finds escaping her is swallowed by Thorin, who digs his fingers into her thighs as he grinds himself against her.

“Fucking a lady against a cave wall, is very unbecoming of a king.” He murmurs, dragging his teeth over her pulse point.

“Well we can save the ‘love-making’ on satin sheets for when you have your kingdom back, your grace. Right now, I need you to just be Thorin.”

“Thorin would definitely fuck a lady against a cave wall.” He chuckles, securing her weight against the stone as one of his hands lifts up to pull down her sleeve, kissing her shoulder.

“Then get to it, Oakenshield.” Kaia moans, tugging on his hair.

“As you wish, Halwûna.” Thorin groans, reaching his hands up to tug on her dress. It falls away easily, the back of it having already been destroyed by Dwalin’s hands. Thorin shifts her higher up, giving him easy access to her tits.

One of his hands remains on her thigh, the other glides over her torso, the callouses on his palms delivering delicious friction against her skin, causing her to bite her lip and drop her head back.

Kaia can feel his beard drag along her chest, his lips pressing kisses along her collarbone before delving deeper, pressing kisses to her nipples. They pebbled against the cold air, and he groaned against them. His tongue darted out, licking a long strip along her right breast.

The hand in his hair clenched, and he growled against her tit, latching onto it with his teeth.

“Fuck! Thorin!” She cries, the pain and the pleasure sending a shiver through her body.

“Quiet, girl. You don’t want the rest of them hearing us, do you?” He murmurs, before looking up into her eyes, “Do you?”

“I think this Company is far past secrets.” Kaia chuckles, breathing harshly as he continues to suck on her tit, dragging his teeth over them to illicit more noise from her.

She threads her fingers through his hair, tugging harshly every time his teeth bit down onto her, and he rewards her with a groan every time.

“It seems Fili got his love for teasing from you.” Kaia breathes out, and Thorin chuckles against her skin.

“Does it turn you on to bring up my nephews while I’m sucking your tits, ghivashel?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his rumbling voice.

“Perhaps.” Kaia says, grinding her lower body against his strong stomach, “Does that bother you?”

“No. In fact, I have half a mind to call them here to watch as I ravage you.” Thorin says, kissing her breast once more before lifting his head up to give her an evil smirk. Kaia can only groan as he pulls her down the wall, readjusting her thighs until they are wrapped around his hips.

Thorin presses a kiss to her jaw, growling slightly, “No. I think I’ll wait for another time to share you. Right now, you are mine.”

With quick, rough hands, he lifts her dress up to bunch around her waist, pressing his hips against hers to keep her upright.

“I want to see you.” Kaia murmurs, dragging her hands over his clothed torso. Thorin raises an eyebrow, seemingly unwilling to take off his tunic.

“It’s cold.” He says.

“Yeah, I realised. If you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing my dress as a belt right now.” Kaia laughs, playfully punching Thorin’s shoulder. His face breaks out into a small smile, looking over her body with loving eyes.

“That is fair, sweet girl.” Thorin says, keeping his hips pressed to hers to keep her up, whilst his hands grab at the hem of his tunic, tugging it over his head.

Kaia feels a blush creep up her neck at the sight of him. He’s covered in thick muscle underneath tanned skin, decorated with dark and silver hair, tattoos and scars. His muscles ripple as he tosses his shirt away, and she cannot resist the urge to touch him.

She drags her fingers over his chest, admiring the dark hair and the roughness of his skin. Thorin watches her as she looks him over, his expression guarded as he begins to feel self-conscious. Kaia was beautiful, soft skin and delicate imperfections which made her so real. The King Under the Mountain was riddled with memories of war, he was old and withered. What if she was disgusted by him?

“You’re beautiful.” Kaia says, softly.

Thorin blinks at her, taken aback by her compliment. But he sees only honesty in her eyes, her pupils dilated as her fingers draw circles down his stomach, gently caressing the scars littered along it. Overwhelmed by the affection displayed by the human in front of him, he kisses her gently. She sighs against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her.

“No-one’s ever called me beautiful, Gêdel.” Thorin murmurs against her lips.

“Well get used to it.” Kaia smiles, leaning back to look into his sad, blue eyes. “I’ll spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are, if you let me.”

“Only if I can repay the favour.”

They share a smile, before resuming their kiss. Their lips start gently, dancing together in an unspoken confession of adoration, getting to know each other more and more with every breath they shared.

Over time, they grew impatient. Kaia felt his hands rubbing against her hips and thighs, causing goose bumps to erupt over every inch of skin he caressed. She moaned against his mouth, demanding for more. Thorin kissed her harder, his tongue seeking her own out as their hands wandered.

“Are you sure about this, sweet one?” Thorin asks.

“Yes, I am.” Kaia whispers, biting at his jaw, “My king.”

Thorin groans, kissing her shoulder and her neck as one of his hands leaves her. Kaia can hear his belt buckle being undone, and her body thrummed with anticipation. Thorin shoved his trousers down to his thighs, gasping as the cold night air hit his cock.

The heat from both of their bodies was both stifling and not enough, the winds of the forest caressing the pairs bare skin. Kaia wrapped her arms snug around the king before her, pressing her chest to his. He hummed against her skin, one hand holding her up whilst the other moved to play with her cunt.

Kaia gasped as she felt his finger drag along her inner thigh, before reaching between her legs. His index finger caressed along her folds, feeling how wet she was for him.

“Oh, mahal…” He murmurs, his cock throbbing at the feeling of how soft and wet she was.

Pressing his finger into her, Kaia moaned and bit her lip, feeling her body shudder with the intrusion of his thick digit. He pushed into her, deep until his thumb pressed against her clit.

“Thorin…” Kaia breathed, her head hitting the wall behind her as she shifted her body, begging for more.

He obliged. A second finger joined his first, and his thumb began dragging across her clit in rough, stable motions which made her gasp. Pumping his fingers, Thorin watched Kaia’s face as her jaw went slack.

“Does that feel good, ghivashel?” He asks, knowing the answer but demanding praise. He needed to hear her tell him he was good, I needed it like a drowning man needed air.

“Yes! Thorin you feel so good! Please, please don’t stop…” Kaia pleads, her hips bucking slightly to fuck herself on his fingers.

“Good girl, ride my hand. That’s it, you look so pretty coming undone.” Thorin praises, fucking her faster on his fingers as he feels himself grow even harder watching her expressions.

Her face twists beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as her chest heaved. Unable to resist, Thorin lowers his head, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She moans, grabbing onto his hair to keep him in place.

“I’m gonna…” Kaia murmurs, rocking her hips against Thorin’s hand.

“Are you going to cum, ‘arsûna?” Thorin asks, kissing along her breast as he flicks her clit harder, “Are you going to reward your king by cumming all over his hand?”

“Yes! Yes!” Kaia gasps out, feeling her peak nearing.

“Do you deserve to finish to soon?” Thorin chides, “Have you earned it?”

“Please, Thorin!” She begs, feeling her legs shake as she gets closer. But Thorin’s hand stops.

“Please, what?” He asks, his voice low as he talks against her skin, looking up at her with fierce eyes.

“Please, my king!” Kaia practically screams, her body thrumming on the precipice.

“Good girl.” He says, biting down onto her tit as three of his fingers enter her, fucking into her fast and hard, his thumb rubbing her clit with renewed ferocity.

Kaia chokes out a sob, her scream getting caught in her throat as she cums. Stars and flashes of lightning erupt in front of her eyes, and her body shakes against Thorin’s own. His fingers do not cease, coaxing her through her orgasm as Thorin groans against her.

The feeling of her cunt strangling his fingers has Thorin’s cock pulsing, begging for the warmth her cunt provides. He needed her, but he held back as he felt her slump against him.

“Are you alright, ‘Ibinê?” He asks, his voice raspy as he feels the blood pumping through his shaft.

“I am, sweet king.” Kaia murmurs above him, running her hands through his hair, causing him to sigh contentedly, “Are you going to fuck me or are you waiting for something?”

Kaia chuckles above him, and Thorin presses another kiss to her chest, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, his voice gentle.

“I’ve fucked four dwarrows and came a dozen times tonight, Thorin. Nê akhshum.” Kaia says, her voice soft. Thorin looks up at her, surprised by her use of Khuzdul. Kaia shrugs, “Balin has been teaching me, Bifur too.”

“Oh, why?” Thorin asks, kissing her jaw.

“He said there would be need for it, eventually.” Kaia smiles, “I don’t know if he meant this, though.”

“He knows more than the rest of us, Halw Kurdu.” Thorin chuckles, kissing her cheek, then her nose. “Are you ready for…” Thorin clears his throat, suddenly nervous.

“Your cock?” Kaia asks, smiling at Thorin swallows thickly, “Yes, I’m ready, my king.”

“If you keep calling me that, this will not last long.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Thorin, it appears dwarrow stamina is very impressive.”

Thorin grins at her, kssing her hard as he lifts her up slightly. Kaia gasps as she can feel his length pressed against her. He’s huge and thick, and throbbing. Thorin releases his own groan at the feel of her heat beneath him, and the two take a second to breathe before, Thorin pushes into her.

The tip of him is enough to make Kaia’s head spin. She bites her lip at the feeling of him stretching her, the all too familiar sensation of penetration a welcome sting after tonight.

Thorin, however, feels as though he is about to burst. Her tight heat envelopes him hot and wet and oh so tight. His mind blanks as he pushes forwards, the sound of his own heart, his lovers breathing and the wet noises of their coupling like music to his ears.

“Mahal… you feel… gods, Kaia…” Thorin can barely get out the words as he sinks deeper, his mouth hanging open as he stares into her eyes, loving the look inside of them as he slowly pushes all the way into her.

“Thorin… my king…” Kaia murmurs, her hands on his shoulders as he presses his hips to her, causing her eyes to roll back into her head. “So… big, fuck….”

“I need to… please, Kaia, can I move…?” Thorin begs, surprising himself with how breathy and eager he sounds. His mind is clouded, the only thing he can feel is the tight space between her legs and the softness of her skin underneath his fingers.

“Move, Thorin. Fuck me hard, please…” Kaia commands, her words disappearing into a high pitched whine as he quickly pulls back and thrusts back into her.

His pace is rough, hard and sloppy. Gone are his worries and his desire to remain kingly, now all he wants is to fuck her fast and hard, claiming her cunt. Every time he pulls his inches out, her cunt tries to pull him back, and he is more than happy to oblige, surging forward hard enough to cause them both to let out a strangled gasp.

Kaia keeps one hand on his shoulder as the other disappears between them, rubbing against her clit and feeling where his cock enters her. The feeling of her nails dragging along his length makes Thorin wince, but the slight pain just brings him closer.

Thorin fucks her wildly, his cock never leaving her for a second as he pumps himself in her, his balls slapping against her as his tip snaps against her cervix. Kaia feels as though she could die on his dick, the air leaving her every time his body shoves against hers. Her hips feel bruised, her tits rubbed raw against the hairs on his chest, and the beautiful sensation of his kingly cock fucking her hard enough to carve it’s shape into her cunt.

Another orgasm is fast approaching, and Kaia can only grip onto him with one arm as the other continues to rub her clit. Thorin shakes and shudders against her, panting as he uses all of his energy to pound into her. His forehead is covered in sweat, and he drops it against her shoulder as he gets lost in the feeling.

Thorin presses her thigh up higher, getting better access to her cunt. After a few more sharp thrusts, Kaia screams as her orgasm crashes over her. Her cunt strangles his cock, causing Thorin to gasp and murmur out Khuzdul, his eyes rolling back. His hips do not stop, desperately fucking her through her orgasm.

“Thorin! Please, let me go, I can’t-!” Kaia pleads, her orgasm subsiding and the brutal pace of his hips making her squirm with overstimulation.

It takes great effort, but Thorin releases her, and she slides out from him. Thorin feels as though he might die if he does not finish, but he would never keep going when she tells him to stop.

Kaia looks down at his cock, glistening and red, and drops to her knees. Thorin opens his mouth to tell her not to, but the second she wraps her lips around him, his protest dies in his throat.

She wastes no time in taking him into her mouth, pushing her head down as far as she can go. He’s so thick and long, and when he hits the back of her throat he’s barely halfway in. Kaia swallows around him, hearing him gasp and groan as one of his hands wraps around her hair. She removes her mouth for a second to drag her tongue along the underside of him, before wrapping her lips around him once more.

Her hands aid her efforts, pumping up and down the rest of his shaft in circular, up and down motions. That and the suction she applies to the top of him, has Thorin almost collapsing on top of her. Kaia looks up, watching as he leans over her, his forearm resting on the stone wall while the other grasps onto her skull.

Thorin’s eyes stare down at her, half-lidded and full of desire as she bobs her head along his shaft. The King Under the Mountain tries to keep himself from fucking her face, his hips stuttering and his hand flinching with the effort to not move her head the way he wants her to.

Kaia can see his internal battle, and she releases him from her mouth, pumping him with her hands as she looks into his eyes, “Fuck my face, my King.”

Thorin groans, spluttering slightly at her words, before the hand in her hair tightens and pushes her back to his shaft. Kaia eagerly opens her mouth, accepting his appendage when it glides through her lips.

All restraint is gone from Thorin now, he’s too close and too desperate to feel her mouth around him. He begins thrusting into her face, forcing his length further and further down her throat until she is gagging around him. Kaia does not protest, nor does she try to move. She keeps her throat as open as she can, taking deep breaths through her nose as the King vigorously fucks her.

It's so erotic, her eyes flitting up to watch the normally composed King under the Mountain as he becomes a writhing beast above her. One of her hands leaves his shaft, going south to her clit, and she begins grinding on it, the vibrations from Thorin fucking her face providing her with effortless friction that makes her body spasm with pleasure.

Thorin is a mess of sweat and groans above her, his eyes rolling back even though he tries his hardest to watch the scene below him. She is truly the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and watching as she takes almost all of him down her throat and pumps him with her hand makes his chest feel as though it will collapse.

His balls are tightening below him, and he can feel himself getting close. The arm pressed against the wall is the only thing anchoring him from falling into a void of ecstasy, and he presses his forehead against it to try to keep his breaths even,

Kaia can feel him getting close. The hand in her hair grips even harsher, providing an almost painful sensation. His thrusts are getting sloppier and harder, and Kaia feels herself gagging almost constantly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Thorin’s mouth is releasing a string of gibberish, moans and words of praise, she would find the gagging embarrassing, but the sensation of it is heaven for Thorin Oakenshield.

She rides her hand with more fervour, feeling herself getting closer as the dwarf above her begins stuttering out begs and pleadings.

“Oh, my sweet girl, make me cum, please… you feel so good, abnâmul, mahal maharuma, you’re going to make me cum… fuck!” He gasps out, on the edge of cumming down her throat.

Kaia wants to feel his spend in her mouth, needs it to finish herself, so she moves her hand from his cock, bringing it down to grab onto his balls.

Thorin bellows, thrusting his cock down her throat as far as it can go as he finishes. His cum comes out in hot spurts down her throat and across her tongue. The sensation of it and the sound of Thorin’s groans makes Kaia orgasm, her fingers pruning with the wetness of herself.

Thorin pulls himself out of her mouth, uttering a small apology for finishing in her mouth. But Kaia simply smiles at him, swallowing down what he gave her and wiping her mouth. He takes another breath, before pulling her up and wrapping his arms around her, his face in her neck.

They stay like that for a few moments, leaning against the wall for stability as they caress each other, soothing one another gently. Thorin murmurs against her skin, words she can barely hear and understand, but his tone makes her feel warm and safe. She kisses his jaw, nuzzling against the roughness of his beard.

“We should probably go back. They’ll be wondering where we got off to.” Kaia murmurs, and Thorin lifts his head to give her a dazed look.

“You’re right.” He says, reaching down to pull his trousers back up. The two begin pulling their clothes back into place. A rustling sound catches their attention, and Thorin sighs.

“Bofur get out of those fucking bushes!” Thorin bellows, and Kaia looks around as a hat pops out from one of the nearby shrubs.

Bofur looks over at them, wide eyed and red faced, clearing his throat.

“Apologies, Thorin! Was just wondering what was going on!” He calls.

“You were wondering ten minutes ago, you dolt!” Thorin sighs, buckling up his trousers.

“Enjoy the show, sweet dwarf?” Kaia asks, chuckling to herself.

“Very much, lass. I’m also very glad Thorin and you are on the same page!” Bofur laughs, trying to conspicuously fix his clothing.

“Were you touching yourself, Bofur?” Kaia tuts, and Bofur flushes red again.

“If I catch you watching us again, I’ll tie you up so you can only watch and not reach any kind of satisfaction. Understood?” Thorin says, his voice back to its commanding lilt.

“Heard loud and clear!” Bofur salutes, winking at Kaia as he runs off back to the camp. Kaia laughs, and Thorin gives her an exacerbated look. “You’re going to have to get used to that, darling. You’re sharing with four other dwarrows.”

“I’m well aware.” Thorin says, kissing Kaia on the forehead. “But we’re really going to have to have a conversation about boundaries.”

“Sure, my king.” Kaia teases, and Thorin growls before he dives in for another kiss.

-

Woo, final smut chapter done! There will be an epilogue chapter next, just to conclude it all!

BUT, because so many people enjoyed this fanfic on AO3, I'll be making a few one-shots continuing on with this story! So look out for those!

Translations <3

Gêdel – Joy of all joys

‘arsûna – hot one

‘Ibinê – my gem

Nê akhshum – Don’t Worry

Halw Kurdu – Sweet Heart

Participation (Ch.6)

~

Epilogue

Kili x OC, fili x OC, Bofur x OC, Dwalin x OC, Thorin x OC

(part one, part two, part three, part four, part five)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, here's the final part!! no smut in this one, fluff with suggestive themes though! There will be some one-shot spin offs coming soon <3

~ <3 ~

The sound of birds and soft conversation was what Kaia heard when she began to wake up.

After the events with Thorin last night, he and Kaia had walked back to the camp. Most of the Company was asleep, except Kili and Bofur, both of which had smiled as she returned, and given her a knowing look as Thorin pressed a kiss to her head before settling in for his watch.

She approached the pair, and Kili offered her his hand. Kaia took it, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“How are you, amrâlimê?” He asks, pulling her down gently to sit between him and Bofur. The hatted dwarf presses a kiss to her temple before he continues whittling away at a piece of wood.

“Better than I have ever been, my love.” Kaia murmurs, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Me too.” Kili says kissing her head.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she could remember closing her eyes as Kili and Bofur spoke quietly beside her.

Now, she could feel a soft blanket below her, and a warm arm around her stomach. She was warm, two bodies pressed to her sides.

Cracking open her eyes slightly, she looked up at the bright blue sky, soft rays of sun floating through the overhead leaves. A bird flew over her head, singing a sweet song that had her smiling sleepily.

Moving her head to the right, she came face to face with a sleeping Kili. His face was peaceful, mouth slightly open as he took shallow breaths. Kaia resisted the urge to kiss him, not wanting to wake him up.

She turned her head, and found Fili sleeping on her other side. He was snoring loudly, leg bent over her own, moustache braids out of whack. She lifted one hand up to play with one, and he sighed in his sleep.

Shuffling by her feet made her look away from the blonde prince, Bofur’s head popping into view.

He smiled, before dropping to his knees and army crawling over her. Kaia held back a laugh as he settled above her, giving her a dopey smile.

“Morning.” He greeted, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“Morning.” Kaia chuckled.

He leans forward to press a kiss to her lips, before flicking Fili on the nose, causing him to shake awake.

“Bofur, you fuck.” Fili sleepily groans, swatting him.

Kaia laughs, pushing Bofur away. He nips at her lower lip, before standing and offering her his hand. Kaia kisses Fili’s cheek before standing, letting Bofur guide her towards where the others are eating breakfast.

“Good morning, lass!” Balin greets, smiling brightly at her as she approaches.

“Hello Balin, lads.” She greets them all, and they all offer her nods and smiles. Bombur hands her a bowl of porridge, smiling fondly at her.

As she walks to sit amongst the feasting dwarves, she spots Dwalin. He sits sharpening his axe, but his eyes light up when he sees her. Kaia walks over to him, giving him a smile.

“Good morning, Dwalin.”

“Lass.” He responds, raising his head as she leans down to kiss him. He hums slightly against her lips, a small smile on his face when she pulls away, “I could get used to that.”

“So could I.” Kaia blushes, before taking her seat beside him.

Bofur sits on her other side, pulling out his pipe.  “Comfy?” He asks, looking her over.

“I could be comfier.”

“Come here.” Bofur puts his pipe between his lips, extending his arms for her to lie against his chest. As she reclines, Dwalin hooks his hand under her knee, bringing her leg over his own. He nods to himself, content.

Kaia sighs happily, snuggling against Bofur’s chest.

“Comfy?” He asks again.

“Comfiest.” Kaia giggles, and he presses a kiss to her hair.

Bilbo walks into the clearing, slightly damp and running a hand over his face.

“Where’ve you been?” Nori asks, looking over the hobbit.

“I went for a wash.” Bilbo says, accepting a bowl from Bombur.

“You’ve been gone for hours!” Nori chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows, “Get up to anything fun?”

Bilbo blanches, grabbing a twig and throwing it at him. “I will have you know, I had to walk further down the stream… trying to find a place that hasn’t been tarnished by some people’s activities!” The hobbit says, rolling his eyes.

“Ooh, someone’s grumpy this morning.” Bofur laughs, “It’s not like we shagged in the water, we have some decency!”

“Yeah it was against the bank!” Kaia giggles around her spoon. Bofur plays with her hair, smiling innocently at their friend.

“Well, I was worried you might have done things on the rocks around them, too.” Bilbo sighs, shaking his head.  “I had to find a boulder away from the camp to leave my clothes to dry.”

Kaia’s eyes widen, and she looks over at Dwalin, as a smile begins to form on the warriors face. “Um… Bilbo. Whereabouts was that rock?” Kaia asks.

“Oh, it’s over there somewhere.” Bilbo points… in the direction of the clearing where Kaia and Dwalin got intimate.

Dwalin laughs heartily, surprising the hobbit. The rest of the dwarves snicker, with Dori tutting and Ori going red. Bilbo eyes the dwarves, confused.

Then his face drops. “No…” He gasps.

“Yes.” Kaia chuckles.

“You didn’t…”

“We did.” Dwalin chuckles.

Bilbo stares at them, jaw dropped and face pale.

“For fucks sake!” Bilbo exclaims, rubbing his hands over his reddening face and pulling at his clothes as if they are tainted.

“Language, master Baggins.” Dori chastises.

“Is there a section of this forest you haven’t shagged in, Kaia?” Gloin chuckles.

“If there is, we’ll rectify that before we leave.” Fili’s voice calls as he enters the clearing. He winks at Kaia, who blushes at him.

“Is that a promise?” She asks, and he grins at her as he leans down to kiss her.

“Might even be a threat.” He growls, nipping at her nose.

The rest of the dwarves settle into a pleasant conversation, as Kaia lets the morning wash over her. She sits with Bofur and Dwalin for a bit, until Bofur leaves to help Bombur and Bifur with washing away their dishes, and Fili takes Bofur's spot beside her.

"Are the princess' catching up on their beauty sleep, or what?" Dwalin grumbles.

Kaia looks around the camp, her eyes searching for Kili and Thorin. No sign of them yet. 

"We need to get going soon!" Balin says, shaking off his bedroll as he gives Kaia a look. 

"You want me to go wake them?"

"Better you than us!" Gloin comments.

"Yeah, you're the one climbing in their trousers." Nori chuckles, and Fili flicks him around the ear, synchronised with Dori who smacks him around the head, "Alright, alright, no need to gang up on me!" 

"You're lucky I'm too far from you, Nori!" Bofur calls over, "Don't talk to our lass like that!"

Fili and Dwalin grunt in agreement, and Kaia kisses them both on the cheek before standing up.

"I'll go check on the remaining Durin's." Kaia sighs, stretching her arms, "Someone's got to keep them in line."

"Thank Mahal that's no longer my job!" Balin chuckles, patting her on the shoulder.

"There's three of them, you know." Dwalin says, earning a faux-hurt look from Fili.

"And I have all my faith in Kaia being the one to keep them in line." Balin says, sending her a wink.

She smiles back at him, before walking away from the clearing, in search of her One and her missing lover.

-

Kili remained asleep. More spread out now than he had been when she left, his legs splayed in an unnatural way and his arms wrapped around Kaia's blanket. 

She smiled at the sight, before biting back a laugh at a particularly loud and un-princely snore Kili emitted. 

Crouching by his side, Kaia reached down to tuck a strand of his wild hair behind his ear, his pretty face visible to her now. 

"Kili..." She murmurs, dragging her finger over his cheek, "Kili, darling, you need to wake up."

Kili groans, stretching his arms out but makes no move to get up. 

"Kili." Kaia chuckles, running her hand sthrough his hair, before lightly tugging on it. Kili gasps slightly, his eyes opening as he looks u at her.

"That was a dirty play."

"Yeah, well, got your attention, didn't it?" Kaia smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. 

His arms extend and warp around her waist, pulling her down to him. 

"Kili!" Kaia exclaims, as she is held tightly against his chest. The dwarf merely hums, nuzzling against her as he keeps his arms locked around her. "Kili, let me go." 

"No." He grumbles, voice raspy, "Mine."

Kaia giggles, kissing his nose, "We need to get up..." He doesn't move, "The others are getting ready to go..." He remains still, "...You're going to miss breakfast."

He opens his eyes, giving her a sly grin, "Okay, you've convinced me."

"Knew it."

Kili releases her, rising and offering her his hand as she climbs up also. "Such a gentleman." 

"Of course, I am a prince!" Kili says, giving her a dramatic bow. Kaia laughs, smiling at him warmly. As he stands up, he beams at her, taking her hands in his own, "And you're my princess."

"Oh, is that so?"

"It is. You've got my bead to prove it." He pecks her lips, before trailing kisses over her nose and cheeks. "Amralime."

"I love hearing you say that."

"Then I will say it to you every day for the rest of our lives."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Kaia drags her thumb over his hand, resting her forehead against his own as they stand in silence for a moment. 

"You should go grab breakfast now." Kaia whispers, bumping her nose with his, "Before Bilbo takes your share as his second breakfast."

"Over my dead body." Kili mumbles, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he dashes off.

She chuckles slightly, fingers fiddling with her braid. Kili's bead is rough, imperfect but beautiful, detailed and full of love... just like him.

Trying to keep her dopey smile at bay, she wanders off in search of their fearless leader.

-

Finding Thorin took more work. His bedroll was laid out near enough the rest of the group, but he was nowhere to be found. Kaia searched the bushes and the cave nearby, but no sign of him. 

After almost giving up, she heard some distant snores.

Thorin was sat beneath a tree, axe in his lap and a sharpening stone in his hand. His head was leaning against the tree, face peaceful as he slept. 

Kaia quirked her head at him, coming to the conclusion that he had drifted off during his watch.

Knowing what he was like when he first woke up, especially armed, she decided to grab a small stone and throw it at him. It landed squarley in his chest, and (as she expected), he sat bolt up right, holding his axe up as he looked around.

Seeing her, he lowered it, letting out a sigh.

Kaia points at him, "See I knew that was going to happen."

"What?"

"That you would be on guard the second something touched you." Kaia smiles, "I would like to keep all my limbs, Oakenshield."

Thorin hums, resting his axe back down on his thigh.

"You know... when we get to Erebor, you're going to have to let your guard down when you sleep. Especially if you're going to wake up next to me." 

Thorin gives her a small smile. Almost unnoticeable, but the gentle crinkle around his eyes told her it was genuine, "Aye. I imagine that would be the case."

Kaia crouches at his feet, resting her hands over his calves and drawing lazy circles over them. 

"I'm still a novice when it comes to dwarven customs." She starts, avoiding his eye as she caresses his leg, "If we get to Erebor-"

"When."

"Huh?" Kaia asks, looking up at him.

"When we get to Erebor." Thorin says. He looks more relaxed today than he had been yesterday morning... or any morning Kaia had seen him. It makes her glow, inside out.

"Haven't seen you so sure in a while."

"Perhaps I have a new reason to be optimistic."

Kaia blushes, looking away. She hears him moving, and feels his strong hands wrap around her, pulling her close to rest against his chest. His axe lays at his side, his hands laid gently upon her waist and arm, calloused fingers 

"You were asking me something." His voice rumbles.

"Oh, right." Kaia clears her throat, "When we get to Erebor... If all goes the way I hope, me and Kili will court, properly. And then, I imagine we'll marry. What does that mean for the rest of you? My lovers?"

"In what sense?"

"When will I see the rest of you? I imagine we won't all be sleeping in one massive, fuck off bed. Do I seek you out after the sun has fallen, like some night stalking hyena?" She jests, prodding his chest. He laughs, his chest vibrating and sending pleasant sensations along her body.

"No, sweet girl. Whenever you need us, we will be there."

"And what if I don't need you, but I want you? ...And miss you?"

"Missing me already?" Thorin asks, smirking slightly.

"Oh, yes, you're so far! At least the distance of a fly's wing." Kaia pouts, and he leans down to press a kiss to her lips.

"To answer your question; it is customary for a dwarrowdams' lovers to live either in her home, or near it. That way she can see them whenever she wants, and they her. From what I know and from what I have seen, even when her lovers do not live with her, they will spend most of their free time by her side."

"Like ducklings?"

"Yes, like ducklings."

"But you will be king. Fili, the heir. Dwalin, your guard. I could probably drag Bofur with me by his hat for the rest of my days-"

"I cannot imagine he would complain."

"-But what about you guys?" Kaia asks, feeling anxious now thinking about it.

It was all well and good them saying they would be her lovers, when they were out in the wilds, on a dangerous quest. But when they return to their kingdom, gods be good, they will have duties, Thorin will be king for crying out loud... and who is she? A farmer, an orphaned human with no titles, no family, nothing to offer...

"We will be wherever you wish us to be." Thorin says, voice quiet and earnest.

"You cannot promise that."

"I cannot promise anything, other than our love, and our devotion. Completely." He whispers, kissing her forehead, "We take lovers very seriously, ghivashel. You will be the king's consort, as well as his heirs lover and his prince's One. You will live with us in the royal chambers."

"And Dwalin and Bofur?" 

"I imagine Dwalin would not be opposed to living either with us or right by us. I cannot imagine he would want to stray to far from either of our sides. And Bofur... well I imagine he'll be like our cat, sleeping on the floor of our hallway."

"Thorin!" Kaia laughs, shaking her head. He laughs with her, playing with her fingers.

"Alright. We'll get him a bed." Thorin sighs heavily, rolling his eyes with a small smile on his face.

"I'm sure he wouldn't ask for a large one. Just one big enough for him and his hat."

They share a chuckle, staring down at their entwined hands.

"What I am trying to say, Kaia, is that we are bound together now. All six of us. When you need us, want us, miss us, we will be right beside you. Sure, you may occasionally have to pull me away from an important council meeting, or drag Dwalin away from training someone half to death, or pry Bofur away from hat-maintenance related tasks... but we will always be there, my heart. Always."

"Thank you, Thorin." Kaia murmurs, happy tears threatening to break. They remain in each-others arms, fingers dancing over one anothers, admiring each others callouses and scars from their own lives before each other, pressing kisses to any skin they wanted to as they enjoyed a peaceful moment.

"Alright, I'm getting sick of all this loved up, sappy shit, can we just have sex or something?" Kaia jokes, bumping Thorin's chin with her forehead.

"You really are insatiable, aren't you, ‘Ibinê?" Thorin chuckles, leaning his head down to nip along her jawline.

"Seeing as I will be tending to the needs of five dwarves for the rest of my days, I think that is a blessing." kaia says, enthusiastically receiving Thorin's heated kiss.

"You are a blessing, sweet girl."

-

After half an hour of... tenacious activities, Kaia and Thorin walked back to the clearing. His arm was settled around her waist, as she told him a story about her parents.

He seemed to enjoy listening to her as she talked, and she was more than willing to oblige him. 

As they neared the Company, a raised voice caught their attention. It sounded like Bilbo.

"Oh no." Kaia says, sighing.

"Do you wager it was my nephews, Bofur, or Nori who has enraged our burglar this time?"

"Can I say all of them?"

Approaching the group, Kaia's smile returned when she set her sights on a much taller individual.

"Gandalf!" She greets, and he turns around to offer her a large smile.

"Kaia, my dear girl!" The wizard says, accepting her hug and patting her on the head, "It's nice to see someone is happy to see me."

"You disappeared, Gandalf!" Bilbo exclaims, hands on his hips.

“I’ve been gone five minutes!” Gandalf chuckles.

“No you bloody haven’t!” Bilbo scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, “It’s been days!”

“Alright, alright, Bilbo.” Gandalf shakes his head, before giving Kaia a smile, “Congratulations, anyway, Kaia!”

Kaia raises her eyebrows at him, looking around at the others. They shrug, confused as well.

"Congratulations for what, Gandalf?"

"On your courting with Kili, of course!" He chuckles, before giving her a knowing look, "And joining in on dwarvish customs. Four lovers in one evening is certainly a record, my dear."

"Knew it!" Nori says, earning an elbow from Oin. Kaia just laughs, shrugging.

"Which one of them told you?" She asks, looking over the Company.

"None of them." The wizard shrugs, "I had a feeling."

This earns him a further confused look from the human lass, and Gandalf leans down to her, keeping his voice quiet.

"Why do you think I insisted on you joining us all those weeks ago?" Gandalf muses, giving her a conspiratory wink. She scoffs, shaking her head but unable to keep a smile from playing on her lips.

“Finished!” Ori calls from across the camp, blowing over the piece of paper he had been scribbling on.

“What have you got there, Ori?” Nori asks, looking over his brother’s shoulder. A smile breaks out on his face, and he ruffles his brothers hair.

“That’s marvellous, that is!” Dori says, beaming at his brother.

“What is?” Kaia asks.

Ori stands and walks over to her, crouching beside her as he shows her his drawing. Kaia gasps, sitting up as she looks in awe at the paper.

It’s a drawing of Kaia, and her five dwarrows. There are six individuals drawings, five smaller ones around the edges with a larger one in the middle. The five drawings include Kaia with each one of her lovers;

Kaia and Kili as he braids her hair, then Kaia with her head on Fili’s shoulder as he holds her hand.

In one, she’s leaning against Bofur’s chest while she laughs at what he says, and in another, Dwalin and Kaia are walking hand in hand back to camp.

In the last smaller one, Kaia and Thorin are sitting next to each other as Kaia tends to a wound he received a few weeks back.

In the centre, the larger picture shows Kaia with all five of them, surrounded by them all as they smile. She's wearing one intricate braid down one side of her head with smaller braids littered through her hair. 

It was truly beautiful, and she wraps her arms around Ori in a hug as he gives it to her. “Thank you, Ori.”

“You’re welcome, Kaia.” Ori says, smiling at her.

“Aw, my hat looks great!” Bofur beams, tipping his hat.

“I do not smile that like.” Dwalin grumbles, and Kaia smacks his chest.

"Amazing, Ori!" Fili says, with a wide smile on his face, "I hope you realise that when we get to the mountain, I'm going to be asking you to make me a dozen drawings of us all!"

“We’ll put that in our chambers when we get to Erebor.” Kili murmurs, kissing the spot below her ear.

Kaia beams, leaning into him as she traces her fingers over the charcoal faces of her dwarves.

-

Thank you for reading! <3