Here have two chapters of smut, weirdness and dwarves twerking. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave me those reviews. Love and Peace

Twerking in Mirkwood

You watched his thumb trace your lifeline, the slight touch tickling you until you pulled your hand away. Rubbing your hand on your thigh to ease the itch he'd created, you giggled quietly and was graced with the beauty of his returning smile.

"I wish you'd smile more," you whispered as your hand came up, brushing his long hair back behind his ear with your fingertips, envying the softness. You carried on down over his braid reaching the silver bead. You brought it closer to your face, trying to see the design in the firelight and was about to ask what it meant when you felt soft lips and prickly whiskers graze your forehead.

You froze, only able to breathe as you absorbed this tender moment. This was the dwarf no one, except perhaps his family, saw. Thorin was confident, commanding, compassionate, and everyone who knew him had witnessed that side to him, especially on this quest. This side, though, this warm, caring, cuddly, and funny as hell side of him was kept so carefully away from the others.

Fingers traced down your cheek, coming to rest on your chin. He nudged a little and you raised your head to him. Letting him catch your lips in a soft kiss.

You loved his kisses. He would start slow, the gentlest of motions with his soft lips. Now he singled out your bottom lip, capturing it between his as he traced his tongue over it. He kissed the moistness away and moved to your top lip beginning all over again. When he'd had enough of tasting your lips, he nipped at your bottom lip his silent command for you to let him in. His mouth slanted over yours and his tongue leisurely mapped your mouth. Flicking at your tongue, curving up to the roof of your mouth. It was bliss.

Now came the frustrating part, because when he kissed you like this you wanted to touch him, tried to, but he was always quicker. Being stronger than you Thorin made easy work of capturing your hands, locking his fingers with yours and pulling your hands above your head. It would force you, whether you wanted it or not, to your back and the dwarf always ended up pressing you beneath him, you unable to do anything but lay there and let him have his way.

The heavy petting make-out session was getting hotter, and you thought maybe tonight with the soft sound of the campfire crackling, the stars above in a clear moonless sky, the rest of the company sleeping nearer to Beorn's ponies, and further away from you, that this could be the right time.

"Please," you drawled out as his lips drifted lazily against your throat. "Thorin, please," this time you begged. Arching up against him, trying to rub your body against his.

You couldn't take more teasing, you wanted this, him.

Thorin merely hushed you with soothing sounds and took your mouth gently once more. Finally, he pulled away, resting on his arms to look down at you. "Why can't we?"

Releasing your hands he pulled away and sat up beside you. You watched the dwarf scan the camp and the forest with that economic movement he'd perfected through his life.

You waited, watching his throat move with each swallow. You'd studied him enough over these nights together to know this tell was him readying himself to say something serious.

"You should give your body to the one who would be your husband." He didn't look at you as he spoke. His gaze locked onto something you couldn't see from your vantage point on the soft ground.

You mulled over his words. Okay, life here in middle earth was different to your world. True, in your world there were those who chose to wait until marriage before having sex, and you respected people who made that decision. You weren't one of them, though, and you'd certainly been given the impression that Thorin wasn't either. No way was the Dwarf King a virgin. No man, dwarf, or elf could kiss like that and not have followed through.

"I don't get it?" you had to know, after all, you'd thought this was something serious. Despite your initial reaction in not taking this adventure seriously, you'd pretty much fallen hard for Thorin a few days into the quest.

It had been in Bree when you'd watched every dwarf be treated with disdain and suspicion and yet Thorin had kept his temper in check and only snapped at a one-eyed man who made a lecherous grasp at you. Thorin had easily swept you out of arm's reach, putting his body between you and the smelly drunk. His words were to the point; his sword freed from its sheath doubling his point.

Who wouldn't have fallen for the handsome, perfect-haired, honourable dwarf? Despite his snapping at you nearly every day after Bree. You just fell harder, blaming that damn Pavlov again.

"It is not you," he spoke again.

Wait, what? "No." You couldn't help snapping at him. "Please don't give me that 'it's not you, it's me' shit." You pulled yourself up, pushing your legs under you to stand up. Wiping off the grass and dust from your coat and trousers. You were going to cut this shit off before it started. "I've had that speech before, again from someone I loved or thought I did. It felt nothing like what I feel for you. But I will not put myself out there again to be treated so insignificantly."

Thorin stood as you grabbed your blanket and pack, ready to take off to the other side of the camp and sleep with the smelly ponies. You would not debase yourself begging him, and it was evident from his words what you meant to him.

His hand caught your arm, trying to turn you, but you braced your legs and body. Channelling Maggie Thatcher, you were not a lady for turning.

"Allow me to explain."

Oh. Hell. No!

You whipped around, Thorin's eyes wide with surprise at the speed of your movements. Your finger came up, pointing directly at his face. "Don't you dare? I've been here before, used as a bit of fun and when I want something serious, I get that stupid speech. Well no, this time, I'm the one who's walking away. I'll get over you. It'll take time I know, but I will. My mother always said people like you would never deserve my love." You stumbled away, turning back to shoot at him, "And you know what, she was right."

"You cannot love me."

Oh, sweet Jesus, this dwarf was asking for it. You threw all your worldly possessions to the floor, stomped back to him, stood there in front of him. If the dwarf knew you better, the moment you braced your hands on your hips, he should have started running.

"You arrogant prick." Bracing your weight on one leg, you sneered at him, "How dare you tell me what to think or feel?"

His hands came up as though surrendering and he called your name in that oh so soothing tone. No, that was not going to work this time. "I love you and I am in love with you. But I'll get over you. Why? Because I'm a good person who doesn't treat others like shit."

He stepped into your personal space one hand reaching out to you. You speared back from him, "You so much as touch me and I swear I'll break your fucking arm off and beat you with it."

You shocked yourself into silence with those words. A smirk upturned one side of his lips and you didn't care how sexy it was, or how damn wet it made you. The damn dwarf was not getting away with this. "You're cute when you're angry."

What the fuck!

Oh, yeah, you had the strength. You were bringing forth your inner Hulk. You visualised it in your mind. You'd step forward, grab his right arm, twist and pull at the same time. The limb would detach and you'd raise it high and bring it down on his hard head, several frickin' times.

It wasn't you that moved.

And you hated how fast the braided twerp could move. But now, he had hold of you, his face was practically splitting open from the size of his smirk, he dropped his head to get into your face. "You love me."

"No, I don't. Not anymore, I got over you."

He tilted his head, and you stared at those bright blue eyes that you were sure reflected every star in the sky. "You love me."

Your eyes blurred, "No, I hate you." Oh God, your voice was cracking.

He lowered his mouth to yours, not quite touching, "You love me."

You couldn't answer, your tongue was too busy tangling with his. Your hands grabbed at his hair, his braids, and those lovely ears of his. His hands were equally busy surrounding you, pulling you tighter against him, running up your shoulders, down to your bottom.

You felt his knees flex just as his hands moved low and you were up. Circling your legs around his hips as he held you tight. You broke the kiss to stare down at him, his heavenly wet mouth so close to yours.

"Why?" You shook your head wanting to ask more of that question, but you weren't very articulate right now.

He smiled that dreamy smile that was reserved only for you. "Because I was afraid the love I have for you, was not returned."

You laughed and kissed him at the same time, relief rivered through you, easing every muscle and nerve in your body.

"Stupid arse Dwarf." He nodded, you couldn't help chuckling.

"You do know that I am a king. Insulting me," and here he lowered his eyebrows taking on a mock-threatening tone, "as well as threatening bodily harm, is a grave offence."

You wiggled forcing him to put you down, "Well, your majesty, perhaps I deserve a good spanking." At that, you swivelled around and bent over. Your years of aerobics came in handy as you bent near double and looked at him through your legs, "I await the royal hand."

"How in Mahal do you do that?"

Well, you hadn't expected that, so you stood tall, pulled off your jacket, untucked your shirt so you'd have more manoeuvrability and stretched backwards into a back crab. Jokingly, you added, "Do what?"

Oh, you could see the dwarf thinking about all the possibilities. You winked at him, braced your arms and followed up, by going up. Your legs went up, straight, your arms holding all your weight. You were loving this moment until your shirt fell over your face. Instinct kicked in and you immediately lifted a hand to pull your clothes back on your body, ensuring gravity had its revenge on you.

Before you could topple Thorin had your legs with one hand and your shirt with the other. "It was going well, until then," he deadpanned.

If he'd been looking, you would have scowled at him. Instead, you screamed as he let go of your legs, grabbed your body and turned your sideways descent into a cartwheel. Wow, he was really strong! And really, really fast. But you knew that from him saving your life gazillion times.

You stepped forward, still caught in the headiness of confessing feelings to each other. You grabbed a braid in each fist and tugged him closer, mimicking his smirk, resting your forehead against his, you whispered, "You love me."

You were angling for another toe-curling kiss.

Instead, his face smoothed, making him look so much younger. "Aye, My Lady. I have been caught in your web, and find myself never wanting to be freed."

"You know, saying I'm a spider isn't very romantic. Black Widows eat their mates."

"Well," Thorin began in that serious voice, "You've already eaten me and I survived."

The heat shot up your face and hindsight screamed you should learn to keep your mouth shut, only for hindsight to kick itself at those words.

Thorin just laughed, loudly, at your reaction before bundling you up against him and moving you back to his bedroll.

It seemed it had taken years to get to Beorn's house in the woods, and when the friendly Man-Bear, as you called him, had lent the company ponies you'd thought it would take a while to get to Mirkwood.

You discovered that the platitude about time flying when you were having lots of fun was true. Mirkwood approached one misty morning before you were ready to meet it. And with the dank wood ahead of you, with its gnarled trees and elven built gateway covered in thick moss, every bit of happiness seemed sucked out of you.

You were at the back of the company, with Bofur and Bifur, but wanting very much to be with Thorin, in his arms. You didn't move towards him because that would mean getting closer to the trees invaded with sickness.

Not only that, there was something else, something in the trees that screamed into your head. High-pitched like a boiling kettle and you couldn't help staggering backwards. Flight kicked in and you just kept walking backwards, your hands came to your head, covering your ears, hoping to block the screeching.

Everyone was looking at you, you could see their mouths moving, words that couldn't make it into your brain. Some had their hands out to you, others just stared frozen at your actions.

He was there. Moving towards you, talking, like one of those silent movie actors. Still the shrieking continued and you shook your head unable to stop yourself from screaming, doubling over, clenching your eyes shut, trying to block sight and sound.

You were bodily pulled up, your face pressed hard into Thorin's shoulder. His arms surrounding your head. The shrieking died away as the warmth of his love pulsed through you. Being engulfed by this dwarf king was nothing short of magical and now he proved it.

"Tell me?" he whispered.

"It's screaming at me." You couldn't explain more.

"What does it mean?" How the hell were you supposed to answer that?

"It does not bode well." Oh, he was talking to Gandalf. The screaming tried to break through again, you buried your head into Thorin's shoulder and he tightened his hold once more. All you could hear was the muffled sound of talking as Gandalf seemed to be briefing Thorin on something.

Thorin loosened his hold. "Are you sure it will help her?"

"It will not harm her."

What!

What the hell were they talking about?

You didn't get a chance to ask as Thorin pushed you away, holding you at arm's length. The screaming returned with a swift, crippling vengeance you weren't prepared for. Your legs buckled and Thorin's strength held you up and you dangled in his arms, you suspected you were doing a great impression of an epileptic octopus.

A cool hand came to your forehead stopping your shaking and something trickled over you. You looked down at yourself, you weren't wet, even though it seemed someone had poured ice water over you. You were cold, starting to shiver, but the screaming was gone. In its place was a voice, a shrill, wicked voice, which threatened you with violence and a slow painful death from the fangs of her many children.

You could handle it, the threats to yourself. When it turned to what she was going to do to Thorin, you panicked. Gandalf was in your personal space now, towering over you, forcing you to look into his eyes and repeat everything being said. The wizard clearly knew what was happening to you.

When you repeated her vile words, haltingly, caught between sheer terror and righteous rage the wizard listened, paying no attention to Thorin rubbing your back soothingly. All he did was command that his horse not be released yet, and informed all the company that he had to leave.

Before riding away, Gandalf spoke quietly to Thorin, and whatever he said had you completely perplexed. You couldn't hear them as Gandalf had moved Thorin over to his horse. The grey wizard had bent down and whispered in the dwarf's ear. Whatever it was had Thorin snapping a look at you before flushing bright red and shifting uncomfortably. When the wizard moved away he was just as red-faced.

Well whatever it was, you could try to wheedle it out of Thorin later. Casting an evil look at the forest behind you, you swallowed hoping there would be a later.

Being a woman who was born to a modern world, who spent a little bit of time browsing literature and surfing news channels that showed images of how your world was being plundered of its natural resources, and one who had given a little money aiding those charities that liked greenery on the planet.

You now wanted a full refund, plus compensation. Oh, and a few hundred lumberjacks would go down well right now, thank you very much. You were now a full advocate of deforestation!

Also being a woman from a modern world, it meant you'd watched scary vampire movies of people trapped in arctic places that had no sun for like six months of the year. Just darkness, and shadows, and more frickin' darkness. Where anything could jump out on you.

Hence your impression of a barnacle.

The others in the company thought it was funny. Thorin, obviously, thought it annoying, though he did his best not to show it too much. You, well you were ignoring his sighing and their laughing. You'd attached yourself to Thorin's arm and you were not letting go. At all!

Thorin, you think, had realised earlier that if he wanted to detach you, he'd need to cut off his arm. As that was not about to happen, you were pretty safe, right now.

The path you had to follow seemed well laid out, to begin with. The uneven yellow slabs, with moss creeping around their edges, shone out in the gloominess. The further in you went, the more cracked and missing the path became. It was like some evil funhouse and you knew there were spectators in the trees watching, snickering at all your efforts.

The vicious harpy that had invaded your head was silent. Though not in a good way. It was perhaps the most disturbing feeling in the universe, to be able to experience another's emotions. Especially when those emotions were expectation and glee. This female, whoever or whatever she was, waited for your mistake.

It was getting harder to ignore, you could feel her salivating at the thought that soon you'd be hers. All of the company would suffer, and the brief flashes of your torture that kept shooting through your abominable link was fraying your nerves.

Thorin stopped and glanced down at your white fingers, likely stopping his circulation. You loved the way he would just raise a hand and the others would know what that signal meant. You did too. It was break time!

You took a moment to look around the camp. The joviality from earlier was gone. Even Bilbo, with his constant cheerfulness, like some motivational speaker, was weary, confused. All heads were lowered and each dwarf looked lethargic.

"Come with me."

You nodded allowing Thorin to pull you away a little to a huge tree, its trunk the widest you'd ever seen. It reminded you of that picture of those trees in America, Redwoods, you thought they were called.

Thorin settled his back against the tree and pulled you into his arms. "There is a sickness on this forest." Thorin whispered, his breath tickling your ear, you couldn't help pushing closer, craving that sensation.

"Gandalf told me of a way, to push back the evil." Oh, his words were so soft, so silky. Almost purred into your ear.

"You would help us, yes?"

"Yes, yes." Meg Ryan popped into your head, that scene from When Harry Met Sally, you giggled, throwing your head back. You would've fallen all the way down if not for those impressively strong arms around you.

"That's my good girl."

That…should've been creepy. But hearing Thorin say it, just like that, spurred you on to please him.

You were whirled around your back against the tree, Thorin pressing into your front, and then his hands. Oh holy hell, his hands went straight under your shirt as his mouth attacked yours. His cool palms rubbing over your breasts had your nipples plucking up, begging for more. And he gave it. Trapping a nipple between finger and thumb, he tugged hard. Pain shot through you and down to your mound where it became an absolute pleasure.

You tried to beg for more, but it came out muffled, lost in Thorin's mouth. He seemed to know as he twisted, pulled, pinched and palmed.

You rubbed yourself against him, like some rabid dog on heat. You didn't care. When he shoved his thigh between your legs, pushing up hard it gave you the leverage you needed. Getting off was all you were thinking about. Thorin ripped his mouth away, pulled up your shirt, and with hands on your hips lifted you higher, his thigh staying ground into your centre.

His mouth inhaled one breast, tongue mapping out every part of your nipple, teeth catching you in sharp little nips. His hands on your hips set up a delicious rhythm as you ground yourself down on him. It was fast and frenetic and building hard inside of you. He moved to your other breast, creating that delicious soreness in your nipple. You tried to speak, but only hard gasps came out, you had no voice. Finally, it crashed over you. That much-needed climax.

Thorin pulled away, lowering you down and quickly pushed you out from behind the tree.

You were woozy, wondering if your trembling legs could hold you, but didn't stop Thorin as he led you to the company. Something wasn't right, but you couldn't find the will to argue. As the company seemed to sense you and gravitate towards you the strangest effect overcame you.

Euphoria!

All the company were suddenly smiling, happy, laughing. Even the eternal gloominess seemed to lift. You were happy, so happy, yet so not yourself. It's like your emotions caused a tsunami of sensation all around you. It was reflected off of everyone and pushed back to you ten-fold, only for you to throw it back out, stronger.

You couldn't help swinging away from Thorin, giggling as you did a lazy pirouette that morphed into you spinning around, stopping only when Filí crashed into you.

"I have a brilliant idea," he squealed in your face. Calling to his brother the three of you stood in a line as Filí commanded you to teach them to dance.

What were you going to teach them? Hmm, so many dance moves. Enlightenment hit when Thorin, smiling like a child with candy leant against a tree. He looked so relaxed and damn yummy.

"Okay," you clapped your hands, "Here we go. Princes of Durin get ready to Twerk!"

You started off with getting them to bend their knees. Not too low, no arses on the ground, and then got them putting their hands on their hips. They looked hilarious. When Bofur, Bifur and Nori waltzed up, assuming the positions you couldn't stop giggling for about five minutes. You did offer, with a little nod at the line of Dwarves, for Thorin to join. He refused with a barely-there shake of his head. You didn't push, after all, he was responsible for the glowy feeling thrumming through your body.

"Okay, hands on your hips, thumbs on your arses." When they copied your movements, you made sure they all had their feet sticking out. "Now, we're going to move forwards first, so using your thumbs push those hips forward."

It was like being at the weirdest audition for The Rocky Horror Show.

Next you focused on them jerking those hips back, once they had that going you got them to move their hands down to their thighs and getting them to jerk freely. Oh, those pelvic thrusts were looking damn fine. Finally, they were ready, with your arms outstretched you ordered them to follow your pace. Starting slow, twerking, bending lower to emphasise those thrusts, speeding up. Hearing them huffing and puffing trying to keep up. You cheered them on, turning into the Twerking Goddess of Mirkwood, backed up by the Durin Dancers.

You threw your head back, hair lashing down your lower back you lost yourself to a tune only you could hear.

You took a glance at the leader of the company, staring intently from beside his tree. You twirled in happiness, back to staring at Thorin, who was taking a sip out of his flask. You laughed loud and proud, whipping up your shirt and flashing the dwarf, giggling as he choked on his drink.