Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. This chapter will essentially be recounting the events of the first chapter from Thorin's point of view, with a little more background and context thrown in. I hope this gives a glimpse into how I imagine Thorin to be as a character, and why he's acting the way he has. This is only my interpretation of him, and I recognize it may not be exactly canonical or keeping with how he's been portrayed in the book (though certainly, I can see Richard Armitage's Thorin feeling/acting this way). I have an idea of where this story will be going, but I really appreciate any comments and critiques. It is always nice to know that someone other than yourself is enjoying your story!

Chapter 2

Thorin watched the girl walk away from his forge, her maid hurrying to catch up. She had inclined her head and given him a small smile when he'd said his name, as if they had reached some sort of truce. She was a terrible fool.

Once she was out of eyesight, Thorin slammed the forge door shut and barred it closed. Her unexpected visit would teach him to leave his door unlocked so late at night. Angry townsmen, he could more than handle, but petite, doe-eyed women with a moral streak were another matter entirely. He could not believe her audacity; the lass had to be touched in the head, or incredibly willful and ignorant of the ways of the world. Given her response to Bessie's preferences, he had to assume it was the latter.

Lady Elana had marched right into his forge, determined to alert him of his kinsmen's danger, yet heedless of the danger she put herself in in the process. He supposed he should be moved that she found him so trustworthy; however, his behavior tonight would ensure that she'd not be so naïve again.

Thorin sighed. He was not proud of how he'd acted. He was dwarf, aye, and only male to boot, and hearing her prim account of his nephew's unnatural behavior set his blood to boiling. He was not sure what bothered him more; whether it was the news that once again, a town of men had reason to hate his kind, or whether it was her obvious distaste for Bessie's choice in sexual partners. He had to admit, if only to himself, the latter irritated him more than it should.

Thorin knew he was attracted to Lady Elena. There was no point in denying that fact. The morning she had walked into his forge, he had smelt her before she'd even crossed the threshold. She had a delicious scent, fresh and clean, like rosemary and lemon and sunshine. It had flooded his senses, and her effect on him only intensified when he got a look at her.

She was a tiny woman by human standards, standing no more than five feet, with a slight chest and shapely hips She'd been bundled into a tidy velvet morning dress trimmed in ermine, with a single pearl winking at her throat from a delicate golden chain. Her red gold hair was a sleekly pinned into a simple bun, and her large green eyes were clear and bright. She was a definitively human beauty, possessing neither the generous figure and trademark beard of dwarvish woman, nor the cool, willowy elegance of the eleven race.

He had not appreciated his physical reaction to her. Thorin was no stranger to the occasional covert tryst with a tavern wench, but he considered those encounters borne out of physical necessity rather than actual desire. As a prince of his race, he was loathe to admit he actively found human women appealing, when his people were dying out due to a lack of dwarven unions. Female dwarves were rare, it was true, but the lack of children stemmed from more than just their scarcity. Like their male counterparts, female dwarves were jealous by nature and did not easily forgive. Many female dwarves could not stand the idea that their partners might have been with human women, no matter how long ago, and thus many chose to remain alone and abstinent rather than align themselves with a dwarf whom they could not call their own in every way.

It was a problem that had no easy solution, especially now that the line of Durin was wandering the wide world. With human women readily available, and often eager to explore "the other side," the younger dwarves of his line had little reason to control their lust. They were a race driven by passions, physical and emotional, and Thorin was hard-pressed to reign in his own desires, let alone those of his brethren. The best he could do was set a good example, and hope his men would follow him in that as they did in everything else.

Which was why, of course, he found it extremely inconvenient that Lady Elena had such a visceral effect on him. The second she had walked into his forge, he had wished with all his might that she would immediately walk out again once she got a look at him. Surely, a high-born lady would not seek the custom of a dwarvish blacksmith. Where once his race had been revered for their skill at the forge, Thorin found himself doing only the lowliest work in the human towns far west of Erebor. Men coveted Elvish work in this part of the world.

Certainly, it had seemed like Lady Elena would bolt when she first laid eyes on him. Her jaw had dropped a little, and she could not disguise the look of shock on her face, though she certainly gave it a valiant effort. But Thorin was monitoring her closely, and he soon recognized her reaction for what it really was. She desired him. She likely did not care to realize it herself, but he could smell her body's reaction to him. It was subtle, just the barest shift of hormones and heart-rate, but it was enough to make his own blood rush downwards. He had clearly been too long without a woman.

Hoping civility would prove an antidote to his lust, he'd politely greeted her and asked how he might help. Lady Elena had quickly wiped the shock of her face, and answered him with equal courtesy. She was looking to surprise her father with a present, a sword of dwarvish make. Apparently her lord father was something of a collector, and had several different swords made by notable smiths among men and elves.

"But he hasn't a dwarvish sword, so I thought you might assist me with completing his collection. I have heard some dwarves are quite skilled at crafting beautiful weaponry." She had locked eyes with him then, and Thorin had felt another bolt of lust stab through him. Mahal, but his body's reactions were ridiculous. He'd quickly assured her that he could make something suitable for her father, and had even given her an extremely low price so she would not be tempted to haggle with him. He needed her to leave as soon as possible, before she saw through his manners and read the hunger in eyes.

The second she left, he'd thrown himself into hammering out the axles for a new cart, desperate to lose himself in physical activity. He'd succeeded in exhausting himself, but the lust had not abated. Her scent seemed to have permeated his forge, and he'd spent a restless night before finally giving in and granting himself some release. Thorin despised his own weakness, but soon reconciled himself with facts. He had not been around a woman who was not a blood relative in quite some time, and he was in the prime of his life by dwarven standards. It was only natural that he would react to a young, fertile female. And he could easily avoid seeing Lady Elana again if he wished. In fact, when she came back to pick up her commission, he could have Balin watch the forge so he would not be present. He would not have to deal with the unwanted lust a second time.

But of course, as was the tenor of his life, Thorin had not been so lucky.

Three days had passed since their first encounter, and he had not thought of Lady Elena since that brief moment of pleasure he'd allowed himself in bed. He was consumed by his work in the forge, and by his daily trek to the dwarvish settlement outside the town's walls. Running a forge required he live in town, but he made sure to break bread with his own people every day. They needed their leader's presence as much as he needed theirs.

Tonight, he had returned from the settlement later than usual; his sister, Dis, had been in a rare good humor and had joined him for supper. Seeing his sister out and about had made his heart feel light; too often, she kept herself secluded from everyone save her sons. Thorin had been reluctant to leave her when she was in the mood for company, but he had a set of axes to complete before the morning. He'd been so distracted by thoughts of his sister that he had left the forge door wide open as he'd hurriedly slung a leather apron about his neck and set to work. He had just begun to temper the metal for a blade when the waft of lemon and rosemary had invaded his senses.

Thorin rested his forehead against the stone wall of the forge as the encounter replayed again in his mind. He could not believe she'd come to him so late at night, whatever the danger might have been to his kin. Had she truly thought nothing of her own reputation, of her own safety? Thorin prided himself on his ability to mask his emotions, but surely the girl was not so blind to his desire for her. Or, if he had succeeded in hiding his lust, she still must know better than to visit a man alone after dark. Anyone who saw her would think she was sneaking out to see a lover.

At first, Thorin had thought that was the purpose of her visit. He'd had woman seek him out before; generally they were wives of local men, bored and looking for the thrill of the unknown. Thorin had always turned them away. He was a prince of Durin, and would not lower himself to be some farmwife's adventure for an evening. At least with a barmaid, sex was a simple monetary transaction, coin paid for services rendered. He liked simple.

Yet Lady Elana was anything but simple. When he realized she'd not come for a tryst and instead to give him news, Thorin had been relieved. He was not sure he'd have been able to turn her down, had she propositioned him. But the relief had been short-lived as she launched into the situation with his nephews.

Aye, but he would wring both of their necks. Fili and Kili were good lads, but they had a wild streak and were ever egging the other on. They were still very young and had spent their entire lives in exile, where the only dwarven woman were their mother's age or older. Include the fact that the boys were both tall and strikingly handsome for dwarves, and it was inevitable they would have more than their fair share of "attention" from human woman. And where Thorin did not often indulge himself, the brothers more than made up for his restraint.

In fact, Thorin's people had been forced to leave their last settlement in the Breelands because Fili had been caught tupping a merchant's wife in the back of a shop. Fili swore she had come on to him, but when caught in the act, the woman claimed he had raped her and the entire dwarven company was driven out of town. It later came out that woman had confessed she'd been with several other men in the town and had cleared Fili's name, but by then it was too late. The dwarves had been uprooted, and Dis had endured the shame of her son's actions.

That was Thorin's sticking point. He could handle most anything, but he could not bear to see his sister or his people suffer anymore than they already had. But if what Lady Elana had told him was true, then once again, his people were in harm's way. And for what? Because his nephews could not control their desires? They were not bad men; were they to be condemned for enjoying pleasure that was freely offered? Thorin had little doubt that Bessie had made her interest in them apparent; she'd done the same to him when he'd gone to the tavern for an ale. Yet for all that Bessie was willing, the townsmen said she had to be under some spell in order to desire a dwarf.

And by the way Lady Elana had spoken, she agreed with them. The second the word 'unnatural' had crossed her lips, Thorin had seen red. Driven by anger and a selfish need to prove that he was not alone in the attraction that flared between them, he'd purposefully cornered her, forcing her to feel his body heat and meet his gaze so he could gauge her reaction to his nearness. He knew he'd unsettled her, but he was intoxicated by her smell and the feel of her delicate face in his hands and he could not bring himself to care. It was only when she'd pleaded with him to let her go that he'd detected the acrid hint of fear in her scent. It had burned in his nostrils, making him instantly disgusted with himself. What had he done?

He'd made what apologies he could and all but pushed her out the door, but strangely, once he'd let her go, she seemed to be un-phased by his behaviour. When she'd asked his name, Thorin could only assume she meant to report him to the townsmen for assaulting her, but something had made him reconsider. For all that he was attracted to her, he also had to acknowledge a grudging respect for her moral fortitude and courage. She'd risked herself to warn him of danger, and he'd repaid her by pawing at her like some savage orc. The least he could do was give her name, to do with as she would.

Thorin surveyed his now empty forge. Lady Elana's scent continued to linger, which made him thankful that he had the axes to finish before the morning. With any luck, he'd be up all night completing the project and would avoid any temptation to slack his lust as he had before.

Now, more than ever, he could not be distracted by his attraction to this human woman. Thorin had his peoples' well being to think of. They were prospering in this settlement, and could ill afford to seek yet another home. Somehow, he had to diffuse this situation at the tavern, and find a way to keep his nephews safe.