The fire before you burns bright and hot upon your face. Built to last most of the night, it should warm you through to the bone. But it does not. You are always cold. So very cold. How much longer would it take for him to realize you are gone? Minutes? Hours?
By the Valar you hope it will not take hours. You are honestly not sure you have it in you to wait that long. A small, deeply buried part of you worries that, in the time waiting for him to appear, your doubts will manifest again and force you to retreat to the safety of your own rooms.
No, you tell yourself firmly. It would all be worth it for one night. Just one night with him. You would risk anything, do anything for the chance to feast your eyes upon his perfect form, all sharp edges and strong muscles. A physique truly earned by long and exhausting hours spent working tirelessly before the forge. Your King has body of a blacksmith. And a warrior. A body so mountain-like, it is almost as if he were truly carved from stone. Your dwarf King. Your Thorin.
Just thinking his name sends a delicious and heady shiver down your spine. What would it be like to finally, finally have his hands upon your body? To finally caress his in turn? To finally discover all his most sensitive places? To finally be able to see your King without any restraints or limitations? This night would be yours. And his. Tonight, he will belong to you and you alone.
But, you think to yourself, that's not quite true is it? You do not wish to lay claim to him. Your deepest longing is for him to possess you. To desire you, and only you. Please, you murmur with a sudden burst of uncertainty, please let me please him. Not a moment after the last whisper of your prayer has faded to silence, you hear the door at the other end of the room creak open.
Almost hesitant now to face the object of your desires, you force yourself to stand and face him regardless. Your eyes catch his and hold. For a long drawn out moment, you can see nothing but the deep, cool blue of his eyes. Eyes that, tonight, almost seem able to set you ignite with an odd flame burning deep within.
Suddenly feeling the need to avert your eyes from his, you move to take in the rest of his figure. In the flickering firelight, he looks even more magnificent, if such a thing is possible. The light reflects off the silver in his wild mane of hair, causing it to almost shimmer. His sharp features are softened, and it briefly crosses your mind that he looks ages younger on this night.
Then, he is walking towards you, and your heart starts to pump furiously in your chest. He is still watching you with those eyes. Those beloved eyes are normally like a slow moving river on a sunny day, bright blue and steady. Now, they are darkened with desire, their color more like that of the sky at the very beginning of night. Deep and almost violent in their wanting of you.
You start as you suddenly feel his strong arms snake around your waist, confident in their goal. At one time, you might have felt them to be caging you in, trapping you in his embrace. But now, now is not that time. At this moment, where you are is where you long to be. At last. An unfamiliar warmth spreads through your veins. Yes. This is what you've been needing. This is what you've longed for. His warmth. His touch.
He slowly pulls your front to his, and your breath hitches. He feels so very good against you. So very right. Without realizing it, your hands move up to rest against the planes of his chest. By the Valar, you wonder, could he truly be cut from stone? How could such a strong and solid warrior ever be defeated? Surely that will never happen. His warm breath ghosts across your forehead, and you slowly but purposefully raise your gaze to meet his.
There is no going back now, you realize. And truthfully, you cannot find it within yourself to care. You will not regret this for as long as you live. You will carry this memory all the nights of your existence, and it will warm you. You will never be cold again. A large, calloused hand brushes against your cheek and lightly holds your head in place. Then, he is leaning towards you. You can do nothing but stare into those eyes that seem to have ensnared you. So close. So very close.
Hesitating at the last moment, he rests his forehead against yours and exhales a shaky breath. This is it, you realize with a start. And with that realization, comes the return of cold. This is the moment when he tells you that he can't, that he's changed his mind, that he no longer wants you, and leaves. Leaves you alone and so very cold, and takes what was left of your dignity with him.
Are you... are you certain? For a moment, you do not comprehend his meaning. Once you do, you give a short, relieved laugh. Suddenly, the cold is gone once more, and in its place is an almost stifling heat. Afraid you will be unable to form words, you simply nod your head and hesitantly run your hands up to his wide, proud shoulders.
Taking this as the silent invitation it is, he sighs happily and returns to his original purpose. Surprisingly soft, he slants his mouth over yours. And finally, finally, you know what it is to be warm.
