I own nothing. Merry Christmas!

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Thorin grabbed his jacket and rushed to the door, but not without kissing Tauriel goodbye. He would be late for Dwalin's and Ori's wedding, but he just had to kiss her. He and Tauriel shared a wonderful and cozy three room flat in London and he was happy. Everything was going fine. He worked on his book and could be at home all day. He could be with her.

Tauriel was also invited to the wedding, but she had caught a cold and felt miserable. She wanted to stay in bed, drink tea and rest. So Thorin went alone.

It was a wonderful wedding and Dwalin and Ori had looked so happy. Thorin's nephews had organised a surprise band after the wedding ceremony and everything was just perfect for this special day. Thorin did not stay too long though, he missed Tauriel and wanted to get home. During the wedding he had imagined him and Tauriel standing up there, in front of their family and friends and exchanging rings. Maybe one day, it would be them.

Humming a christmas carol, Thorin walked back home. He would sneak into bed with Tauriel and cuddle her warm. Thorin sneaked back into his flat and silently closed the door behind him, to not wake her up in case she already slept. But on his way to the bedroom, he ran into his brother Frerin, who looked back at him in shock.

‚Brother!' Frerin nearly chocked on his breath. ‚What are you doing here so early?'

‚The wedding was nice, it was sweet and pink and all...but I wanted to spend the day with Tauriel. Did she let you in?' Thorin chatted along. ‚What a nice surprise! If you would have told me that you were coming I would have asked Dwalin and Ori if you could come to the wedding as well!'

‚Well, I...' Frerin paled as Tauriel's voice called out from the bedroom.

‚Come back here, Durin! I want at least another shag before Thorin returns!'

Frerin was a cold hearted bastard for sleeping with his brother's girl, but the shocked look on Thorins face would hunt him forever.

#

Christmas was a month to go as Thorin stepped out of the plane. He had flown to south France – away from London, away from her. He needed peace and quiet and on the internet he had found a nice little cottage in France, where he could continue to write his book. He had neglected his work to spend more time with Tauriel, but that had obviously been in vain.

The add in the internet promised him a cottage in the middle of nowhere, with a lake in front of the cottage and even a maid, who would run the household so that the guests could relax and think about nothing else but their vacation. It was perfect.

Thorin had just arrived at the cottage as the owner drove up to the house and wanted to introduce him to the maid. Thorin only hoped that the maid would leave him in peace and would not try to engage him in any conversations. As the woman walked up to him, Thorin quickly looked her over. She was a tiny little woman with an average look. She had blond hair, green eyes and a stub nose with freckles on it. Her clothes were a little old fashioned, but clean and fit her style. She was wearing a brown skirt, a white blouse and a red waistcoat. Shyly, she looked up at Thorin, who quickly looked away and adressed the owner of the house. He was an old man with a long grey beard and a grey coat.

‚Mister Durin, such a pleasure to greet you here, again!' the man smiled at him and pointed at the maid. ‚This is Belle Sacquet, she will be your maid. She is from Bordeaux. But she only speaks French. Do you speak French?'

Thorin shook his head and looked down at Billa. He politely shook her hand and tried for a smile. ‚Uhm...enchanté miss uhmmm madameselle...Soket?'

‚Sacquet, mister Durin.' the old man corrected him. ‚Sac means bag in French. And its ma-de-moi-selle.'

‚Oh, I see.' Thorin had no idea how this information could help him, he would never be able to speak this language properly without spitting. ‚Yes, uhmm well, please, come in – uhmm entré...France, yeah, great place, great people! Like Michel Platini!'

‚I think she might be too young to remember a soccer player called Platini, mister Durin.' the old man stated amused.

Thorin blushed and grumbled into his beard, while Bella looked at him with a shy smile.

‚Yes, well, I will leave now. Please drive Belle home in the evenings, she does not own a car. If there is anything you need – tell Belle.' the old man grinned and quickly walked back to his car to drive away.

‚Bloody funny.' Thorin growled, but quickly tried to sport a nicer expression as he saw Belle's frightened face. He knew that he could seem pretty intimidating when he was angry and Belle could not even understand why he was angry. Maybe she would think that she had caused it and Thorin did not want to scare her.

‚Ah, tutto a posto(alles in ordnung ital.), el bien (alles gut, spanisch)...bene, bonus, bonum...you know...' Thorin waved his hand in the air and growled one last time as the owner drove by and grinned at him.

‚She also does not speak Italian, Spanish or Latin! Have a great stay, mister Durin!'

#

Belle was a perfect maid. She cleaned, cooked and backed, while Thorin was writing all day. Thorin's worry that the maid might try to speak with him was completely in vain, for she only adressed him when she brought him someting to eat or to drink, and if she did, she spoke French.

"Here is your tea and a croissant, mister Durin." Belle brought Thorin is breakfast and put the cup and the plate on the table where Thorin was writing. After a few days they had established a sort of routine. They would just speak their native tongue and hoped that the other one understood what had been said by the gestures and mimics only. Thorin was under the impression that it went very well.

‚Thank you, Belle.' Thorin shyly smiled at the maid.

"You should not eat so much croissants, mister Durin." Belle told him and looked him up and down. "Or one day you will look as round as my uncle Bingon Sacquet. You have already gained a little bit of weight."

‚I love these croissants.' Thorin told her. ‚I am lucky, I can eat as much as I want and never gain weight.'

Belle only smiled at him and took his old tea cup away to clean it. At the door, she turned around and looked at Thorin for a while longer. The attractive englishman had bound his long black hair into a ponytail and his frown was one of concentration and not of anger, like the first time they had met. She had to admit that the frown looked quite fetching on him. She wondered what had made him leave England in such a hurry only weeks before christmas.

#

Three weeks before christmas, Thorin had sat down by the lake and wrote in the warm and soothing sunlight of southern France. It was so warm that he could sit outside with only a sweater. His book was going well, he had already written most of it. Now, all he needed was to work on the end.

Thorin smiled as Belle brought him his tea, her blonde curls flying freely in the soft breeze. For the first time he thought that she looked actually quite beautiful. As Belle took his old cup, which Thorin had used as a weight on top of his already written pages, the breeze developped to a wind and blew the pages out onto the lake. Belle gasped on horror and Thorin only wanted to die.

‚Oh my God, its half the book!' he sighed, but then his eyes widened as Belle ran down to the lake, undressing quickly to jump after the pages drifting on the water.

‚Don't it's not worth it, just leave it! Oh...' Thorin blushed brightly red below his beard as he looked upon Belle, who undressed down to her underwear. Pretty baby blue underwear with a few laces and ribbons – caressing her soft and female curves. And pretty big feet. A splash jerked Thorin out of his ogling. ‚Oh God, she's in.'

"My Goodness, it's freezing!" Belle cursed and spluttered.

Thorin hurried to follow her in, undressing as he ran down to the lake.

‚Great, now she must think that I am a total jerk if I do not jump in as well.' Thorin cursed. Seriously, the book was not worth it. As he tried to get out of his shoes while running, Thorin tripped and fell into the water with a very loud – and not very graceful – splash.

‚Fuck, it's cold! Fuck!' Thorin yelled and realised that he still had to swim quite a distance to get to Belle. The maid was already pulling the pages of his book out of the water.

"This better be worth it." Belle grumbled while swimming to the next floating pages.

‚It's not worth it, it's not bloody Shakespeare.' Thorin told her, spitting out some water which had floated into his mouth.

"What kind of moron does not make copies?" Belle asked and grinned as Thorin joined her in the deeper water.

‚Why didn't I idiot make any copies?' Thorin groaned.

"You better not disturb the eels." Belle told him and swam to the next pages.

‚If there are eels in here, I am going to freak.' Thorin tried to look to the bottom of the lake, but the water was dark and muddy. As something brushed his feet her nearly jumped out of the water. ‚Good God! What was that!'

Belle chuckled as the tall englishman quickly collected all the pages in a hurry and with a panicked look in his eyes. She still smiled as Thorin pulled her out of the water and wrapped his dry sweater around her shoulders.

#

Back in the cottage, Thorin made them some tea. He tried not to focus on the woman in her wet underwear and his sweater sitting by his desk.

‚Thank you.' Thorin smiled shyly. ‚You know, I might name one of the characters after you.'

"You could name one of the characters after me. Or give me 50 percent of the profit." Belle grinned and sipped her tea. Thorin had chosen her favorite tea without knowing.

‚Or I could give you 5 percent of the profit.' Thorin mused. He hated tea, but he had never told Belle. He had drunk about a gizillion teas in the past days, but it was the only way to see Belle come into his study.

"What kind of genre is it?" Belle asked and caught Thorin's attention. "The book?"

Thorin did not understand and Belle tried to mimic what she meant. She shed fake tears, then laughed and then pressed her hands against her heart to mime a romance.

‚Ah...' Thorin was captured by her creative way of communicating, but he understood. ‚Ah, no, it's more like...' he grabbed a pen and made stabbing gestures with it, then he gestured to strangle Belle.

‚Ah bon, crime?' Belle asked and Thorin nodded. For once, there was a word that was the same in French as in English. Belle mimicked to be frightened to death and Thorin nodded again.

‚Yes, it's frightening, especially the bad writing is frightening.' Thorin smiled cheepishly.

They sat in silence for a moment before Belle sighed and stood up.

"I should really get back to work." Belle told him. It was nearly dinner time and Belle had to make some biscuits. "Will you drive me home after dinner?"

Thorin understood what she was asking, since Belle acted to drive a car. ‚I will drive you home after dinner. It is my happiest time of the day, driving you.'

"It is the sadde st part of my day, leaving you." Billa whispered and looked up into Thorins' handsome face before she turned away.

After dinner, in Thorin's small car, Belle took a quick sideglance at Thorin, but looked away before Thorin could make eye contact. She did not see Thorin taking a sideglance at her as well. As their eyes met by accident as both turned to watch the other, they quickly looked into the opposite direction, blushing.

#

The end of Thorin's holiday came much too quickly, as well as the last drive. Thorin noticed Belle's sad expression and he tried to cheer her up, but in his own sadness he screwed up majestically.

‚Bello...bella...montagna...' Thorin pointed out of the window and tried to make conversation, but failed miserably. A song in the radion caught his attention. ‚Ah, „Silence is Golden" by the Tremeloes...nice soon...very fitting...'

Belle looked at him questioningly and Thorin decided to sing the song. In his nervousness, his first tones were way too high and Belle had to turn away to hide her laughter.

‚Oh, shut up, Durin.' Thorin scolded himself, while Belle laughed against her window.

They reached Belle's home too quickly for Thorin's taste. He accompanied Belle to the door and took her hand, shaking it softly.

‚It was wonderful meeting you, Belle.' he told her quietly. ‚But I have to return to my family. Christmas is near and I...they are waiting for me. Or say, their presents.'

Belle only looked back up at him, trying to memorise his face. This past week had meant alot to her and she still could not believe how much she felt connected to the man from England who did not even speak her language. With a sad smile, she pulled her hand back and tried to relish in the warmth that Thorin's hand had left on her skin.

‚Au revoir, Thorin.' she said softly and turned away before he could see her tears.

‚Goodbye, Belle.' Thorin whispered as the door closed behind her.

#

The three weeks until christmas passed in the blink of an eye. Thorin threw himself into work; his book was finished and he started taking French classes, not fully knowing why. But he learned fast and disciplined, for two and a half weeks straight. At christmas eve, he visited his family. He greeted his parents and grandparents, hugged Fili and Kili and ignored Frerin, who had the nerve to show up with Tauriel. All of a sudden, Thorin could look at Tauriel and would not understand why the woman had meant so much to him. She stirred no emotion in him, only annoyance and irritation.

The family was on their way into the dining room when Thorin froze, suddenly knowing what to do. This was not the place where he wanted to be at the moment. These were not the people he wanted to be with right now.

‚Uncle?' Kili turned around to him and looked at him with huge brown eyes. ‚What is it?'

‚He is leaving.' Fili smiled and patted Thorin's shoulder. ‚No idea where your heart lies, uncle, but it is definetly not here.'

Thorin blinked and wondered when Fili had become such a grown man. He smiled at his nephews and hugged them tight.

‚Merry Christmas.'

#

It was cold and windy as Thorin stepped out of the plane in Bordeaux. He rushed to the exit of the airport and reached out for the only cab standing there, until he realised that an old woman stood beside him and stared at him with a sour expression. Thorin's mother had raised a gentleman and with a deep sigh, Thorin let the woman have the cab. He did stomp his feet as the cab was gone, though.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Thorin stood in front of Belle's house. He took a deep breath and knocked. The man who opened the door looked up at Thorin with a distrusting expression.

‚Good evening.' Thorin stuttered. ‚I...I am here...to see Belle. Is she here? Belle?'

‚Ah, mister Durin, how wonderful to see you!' the old man, the owner of the cottage Thorin had been staying at rushed to the door. ‚Bungo, this is mister Durin. Mister Durin, this is Bungo Sacquet, Belle's father.'

Thorin nodded and awkwardly smiled at Belle's father. Before he could ask where she was, a sour looking woman passed the door.

"Who disturbes our peace at christmas eve?" she asked and looked Thorin up and down. After two weeks of intensive French classes, Thorin understood her words, although her expression told him all he needed to know. She was no nice woman.

‚I am here to...' Thorin bit his lip. He decided to ignore the woman and adressed Belle's father. ‚I am here to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.'

Belle's father seemed to understand the word marriage, since he huffed in surprise. After an icy glare at Thorin, he turned around and grabbed something behind the door. Thorin stiffened, for he feared that the man would grab a sort of weapon, maybe an umbrella, and smack him back to England. But Belle's father had only grabbed a jacket and spoke to the old man, who smiled at Thorin.

‚Belle is at work. Bungo will take you there.'

The next few minutes, Thorin followed Bungo through the streets of Bordeaux. The insufferable woman, Lobelia was her name, followed them as well and even gathered all their neighbours, telling them that the englishman was there to buy Belle from her father.

Many miles later, they arrived at a small and cozy restaurant. Bungo walked straight in, followed by Thorin and a group of neighbours, all curious to see what would happen.

Thorin looked around in the tiny restaurant, but he could not see Belle anywhere. The head waiter of the place pointed up to a small balcony with three tables and finally, Thorin laid eyes on the woman he loved.

Belle worked as a waitress in this restaurant and was just bringing soup to a pair at the left table as she looked down and saw Thorin. And her father, Lobelia and all her neighbours.

Surprised, but with a faint smile on her lips, Belle walked to the edge of the balcony and her gaze locked with Thorin's. It took Thorin a while until he could speak.

"My Belle." Thorin's voice was deep and hoarse at first, but he soon managed to speak clearly. He had practised this in the plane, with the help of google translator and his notes from class. "I have come here to with a view to asking you to marriage me. I know I seems an insane person because I hardly know you, but sometimes things are so transparency, they do not need evidential proof. And I will inhabit here, or you will inhabit with me in England."

"Go to England with him!" Lobelia rudely interrupted him and called out to Belle. "In England you might meet Richard Armitage and marry him instead!"

"Of course, I do not expect you to be foolish like me and I prediction you say no. But it is christmas and I just wanted to...check." Thorin smiled cheepishly and looked up at Belle with a hopeful expression.

Belle was standing up there, stepping from one foot onto the other, looking if she might faint. After a moment that seemed endless to Thorin, she answered.

‚Thank you.' Belle answered in broken english that made Thorin's heart miss a beat. ‚That will be nice. Yes, is being my answer. Easy question.'

Belle smiled widely and Thorin's world stopped turning. She had said yes and he was the happiest man on earth.

"What did you say?" Bungo asked and Belle answered him an „Bien sur, Oui!".

The small restaurant errupted in cheers and applaude and Belle walked down the balcony to greet her husband to be. Thorin noticed just know, how much this conversation must had seemed like Romeo and Juliet. But he did not care, for she had said yes.

As Belle stood in front of him and looked up into his eyes, Thorin was pulled back to reality.

‚You learned english.' He stated the obvious.

‚Just in cases. ‚ Belle grinned.

Thorin cupped her face with his huge hands and gently tilted her head to meet her in a sweet kiss. Neither of them was aware of the whole restaurant celebrating for them and clapping each others shoulders happily. Thorin's breath hitched against Belle's lips as he felt her tiny hands grab his coat and pull him down to deepen the kiss.

They did not hear the owner of the restaurant exclaim that he would not let her go, for she was his best waitress. The old grey man, Gandalf, only gave the man a stern look until he silenced and then turned back to the happy couple, rubbing his hands. That had went well.