I know it seemed like I abandoned this story and to be honest, for a while I did. But I'm back with every intention of completing it…someday…

Thanks for your patience!

The days turned into weeks, turned into months and Thorin found a routine in his life in the Misty Mountains. Each morning he awoke and had breakfast alone, finding that his husband had already risen and started his day. After breakfast, Thorin spent the morning in the training hall, occasionally sparring with other dwarves but more often than not, practicing with the wooden dummy. The hours spent training paid off, Thorin could wield any weapon with ease, ax, sword, Warhammer, even the bow and arrow; he had vastly improved on his form with every weapon and considered himself quite formidable.

After a lonely afternoon meal, he split his time between the library and the forge. Moria's library was not quite as large as Erebor's, but it still held countless volumes on every subject imaginable and the young prince found it to be an excellent way to pass the time. He read fairytales that he had loved as a child, volumes on craftsman techniques, and occasionally books of dwarvish history; but only if he couldn't find anything else interesting enough to read.

On the days he went to the forge, Thorin spent hours honing his skills by crafting beautiful creations for his family. Mithril hair clasps, beads and jewelry for his sister, steel daggers for his father and brother, a heavy silver belt engraved with ancient runes for Balin and even a thick gold cuff for his grandfather; although, the cuff was sent to Thror for lack of anyone else to give it to.

The other constant in his life were the letters from Dis. Each month, when the messenger arrived from the east he would deliver a large package filled with a thick stack of letters from Erebor. Dis kept her brother informed of all the gossip and goings on in Erebor; Thorin, you won't believe it! Grandfather had arranged for Frerin to marry one of Dain Ironfoot's daughters! Our dear brother is fit to be tied, as you know all Dain's daughters look like toads!

Father is insisting a thousand sapphires be sewn onto my wedding dress! It will be so heavy I won't be able to walk down the aisle!

I hope you have found happiness in Moria and wish that you would write more often. I miss you so.

For the first month or so, Thorin still expected Balin to visit his bedchamber and claim his nightly rights; any kind of contact with someone who was supposed to love him would have been welcome. His servants were kind and offered casual conversation, and the dwarves in the training hall and forge were pleasant company, but Thorin felt no real connection with anyone in Moria; he was lonely, very lonely.

Thorin began to think that perhaps Balin stayed away at night because their first experience together had not been pleasant. Perhaps he thought Thorin was not interested in physical intimacy. Maybe he was waiting for a sign from the prince. But what kind of sign? Thorin was far too inexperienced, not to mention shy, to come right out and say it, so he headed straight for the library. Surely Moria's library had to contain a book similar to the one he and Dis had found in Erebor!

It didn't take long for the young prince to find not just a book, but a whole case of books on the subject! There were books with tales of seduction, tomes filled with pictures of more erotic acts than Thorin could have imagined, and veritable guides on perfecting every sexual act known to dwarrow!

Gathering up as many books as he could easily conceal within his clothing, Thorin raced back to his room that day and forgot to come out for dinner. It wasn't until his servants brought him a dinner tray that he realized he had been reading in his room all day. But now that he had found this treasure trove of forbidden knowledge, Thorin found it difficult to pull himself away from it. He read late into the night and after lunch the following day, headed straight for his room to continue.

A Guide to Dwarven Sexuality kept the young prince's attention for several days, as he learned exactly how to pleasure himself. For hours he secluded himself inside his chambers, touching all the places on his body he never dared explore before. Stroking his own member to hardness and then completion. Touching his entrance, soft and tentatively at first, then bolder, slipping his fingers inside as The Witnesses had done on his wedding night. Thorin emerged from his room on the third day feeling chafed, desensitized, and wanting more.

It was close to dinner time on the fourth day when Thorin opened a book on the art of seduction. The small book explained how to make a lover burn with desire and want; how to fill nights with unbridled passion simply using the eyes and suggestive language to enflame even the most reluctant of lovers. Thorin read the book in its entirety twice before deciding to use the tricks taught within its pages to seduce his own husband.

He planned it out to perfection. Balin usually had dinner with Thorin, then retired to his study; Thorin would come to Balin and in the solitude of his study, enflame his husband's passion, just as the book said!

Dinnertime came and Thorin could barely contain his nerves, he was excited and fearful all at once. What if it hurt like before? But the pictures in the books made it look so nice! He hardly touched his food and couldn't seem to stop his nervous sweating.

"Thorin, you look flushed, are you alright, lad?" Balin asked as the servants cleared away the dishes. He leaned forward and placed the back of his hand on Thorin's forehead. "You feel a little warm, should I send for the healer?"

"Hmm…no, I am fine, thank you," Thorin replied quietly. "I think I will retire early, if that is agreeable with you, husband."

"Yes, of course, get some rest, I daresay you need it," Balin smiled and waved him away easily.

All but racing back to his rooms, Thorin found a hot bath waiting as he had requested before dinner. He took his time bathing, washing his hair and beard with sweet smelling oil and even scrubbing his under fingernails.

Once finished bathing, Thorin dressed in his nicest pair of pajamas, a white silk sleep shirt and matching, loose fitting pants. He brushed the tangles free from his long hair and carefully rebraided it, securing each braid with a mithril bead.

By the time he was finished, Thorin knew Balin would be in his study by now and he peaked his head out the door to make sure there was no one in the hallway. Finding the passage deserted, Thorin slipped out of his room and padded quickly down to his husband's door. He paused outside Balin's room, unsure what to do next. Should he knock, should he go in unannounced? Preferring to err on the side of politeness, Thorin knocked and was answered soon after when Balin called out from within to enter.

Stepping inside, the young prince realized he'd never been inside his husband's study before. He quickly took in the room; it was not opulent and ostentatious like his grandfather's study, the furnishings were well made but of simple design, bookshelves lined the walls and a fire burned in the hearth. There was a thick rug covering the stone floor, and two armchairs by the hearth, the entire room felt cozy and inviting.

"Thorin, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be in bed by now," Balin smiled and motioned for the prince to come further inside.

Now that he was here, actually here, Thorin felt as if he might lose his nerve. He'd gone over in his head, a hundred times, exactly what he was going to do, and now, he suddenly couldn't remember any of it. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of Balin's desk and cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say. Much like their first meeting, all his carefully rehearsed words had dissolved on his tongue.

"Um, I couldn't sleep. Would you mind if I sat with you for a while?" It was all he could come up with but it seemed to be enough for Balin.

"Well, if you are looking for something to induce sleep, you've certainly come to the right place!" Balin chuckled as he moved to sit back down at his desk. "I'm just reviewing trade agreements with the dwarves of the Blue Mountains, not very exciting, I'm afraid."

"My sister is marrying a dwarf from the Blue Mountains in the spring, maybe I can be of help with the trade agreements," Thorin said hopefully, his original purpose for visiting Balin's study momentarily forgotten.

"That's very kind of you to offer, lad, but I'm afraid it's a fairly standard agreement. Not much here needs negotiating," Balin glanced up with a warm smile before returning his focus to the parchment on his desk.

Thorin was quiet for a moment as he decided how to proceed. Balin was mildly distracted, now was the perfect time to put his plan into action. With butterflies in his stomach, he rose and slowly walked around to the side of the desk. Perching himself on the edge, he leaned forward in what he hoped was a seductive gesture. His hair fell forward over his shoulders, creating a dark curtain around his face. Balin looked up with a confused expression and Thorin scooted forward.

"Might I take a look, husband?" Thorin purred, leaning forward. He reached his hand out to take Balin's, knocking over an open pot of ink and spilling the black liquid over the trade agreements.

"Watch out, Thorin, the ink!" His husband cried, moving quickly to salvage what he could of the parchment and stop the flow of the ebony fluid.

His loud voice and quick movements frightened the young prince, bringing to mind images of his father's angry shouting and flying fists. Thorin slid off the desk and sunk to the floor, covering his head with his arms and waiting for the blows to start. If he had done this to Thrain's parchment surely there would have been a beating to follow; Thorin assumed his husband would be no different than his father in that aspect.

Balin stopped fussing with the mess when he noticed his young husband cowering on the floor beside his desk. He dropped the parchment and crouched on the floor next to Thorin.

"Don't be frightened, sweet lad, I'm not angry with you. I know it was an accident," he reached out to pull Thorin's arms down, the young dwarf flinched when Balin touched him but lowered his arms, looking up with fearful eyes. "There now, it's alright, it's just some spilled ink. Come on, let's get up off this floor."

The older dwarf pulled Thorin up and led him to one of the armchairs by the fire. He poured them both a glass of wine before sitting in the chair opposite Thorin. The wine was strong and a little too sour for Thorin's liking but he drank it anyway to calm his nerves and embarrassment. Not only had he not managed to seduce his husband, he had made a mess of Balin's desk and cowered like a child afterward. He felt like an idiot and couldn't understand why Balin wasn't cross with him.

"Tell me, Thorin," Balin said after a few moments. "What's the reason for all this?" When Thorin kept his eyes down and didn't respond, the older dwarf continued. "You come to my study in your nightclothes, you crawl across my desk like a lynx, and then you act as if I would strike you for spilling a bit of ink. Please, tell me what you're thinking."

Sighing heavily, Thorin raised his eyes to look at his husband. He expected anger, frustration, disappointment, but all he saw in Balin's eyes was concern; it made Thorin feel a little better and he knew he should come clean.

"I was trying to…enflame your passion," he murmured, dropping his eyes again as he felt color rising in his cheeks.

"Enflame my what?" Balin nearly choked on his sip of wine and Thorin downed the rest of his own glass before continuing.

"You never come to my bed…to…claim your nightly rights. I though, perhaps, the fault lay with me. Maybe you were waiting for me to initiate it, so I found a book in the library that told me how to…how to m-make you want me," His face burned and Thorin knew it had to be crimson by this point. "I thought…if I were to show you that I-that I wanted you too…then you might…" He trailed off, unsure what words to use for such a delicate and embarrassing subject.

"But Thorin, why would you want to lay with me again? You did not enjoy the first time, surely," Balin's voice was soft, kind, there was no judgment or harshness in it.

"No, it's true, I didn't enjoy the first time. But the books I found, they tell of ways to make it pleasurable, to make both parties enjoy it. I thought maybe, if we tried something from one of the books…"

Balin sighed and Thorin looked up, there was a sadness in his husband's eyes that Thorin did not understand. Was he disappointed in Thorin for asking? Had the young dwarf said something wrong?

"Oh, my sweet lad," Balin sighed again, rising to refill both their wine glasses. "Surely you must know there is a number dwarves who never marry, not because of a lack of available partners, but because they feel no inclination toward it." Thorin nodded. "I am one of those dwarves. I do not feel desire for romance or physical intimacy, I never have. In truth, I never would have married had both our mountains did not needed this alliance so desperately." He returned with two full glasses, handing one to Thorin. "I had to take herbs the night of our wedding to enable me to perform as needed. I am sorry if I have misled you, Thorin, but I can never give you what you desire."

The young prince tried to process what he was hearing; was Balin telling him that for the rest of his life he wouldn't know physical intimacy? He would never be held and cuddled, never fondled and stroked to completion by his husband, he would never be kissed as he so desperately craved. It was disheartening and disappointing in a way he had never felt before, to know he would live out the rest of his life in Moria without the comfort of another. He thought back to his life in Erebor, the pure sisterly touches of Dis, tugging his braids, squeezing his shoulder, cuddling him through a nightmare. Knowing that he would never again experience that simple support, made Thorin feel like curling up and sobbing like a dwarfling.

His husband could sense Thorin's sadness and knelt down in front of the young dwarf. He reached out and cupped Thorin's face gently. "This doesn't mean you can't find happiness in the arms of another, my boy."

Gasping in shock, Thorin looked at Balin as if he'd lost his mind. "Another? Balin, what you speak of is treason!" If the King's Consort had an affair in Erebor, that dwarf would have been banished if the King felt merciful, and beheaded if the King was wrathful.

"You're forgetting, Thorin, you are the only royalty here in Moria. It would not be treason; it would hardly be more than a mild scandal," Balin smiled, a small twinkle in his eyes. "You have my blessing to find comfort and passion where you may, all I ask is that you are discreet,"

Another dwarf in his situation would have leapt at the chance, given free reign and permission to have as many affairs as he pleased. But to Thorin, it felt hurtful, like he mattered so little to his husband, his affections and attentions were neither needed nor desired. It proved, without a doubt, that their marriage was little more than political alliance; it made Thorin feel worthless.

He suddenly wanted to be alone. Rising from the armchair, he managed to give Balin a weak smile, "I'm going back to my room now. Thank you for…explaining the situation to me."

Balin rose with him, pulling Thorin's head down and kissing him on the forehead as he had done many nights before. After their conversation tonight, it felt even more like being treated as a child. Thorin sighed and left the room, not bothering to check if there was anyone in the hall this time, and sullenly walked back to his own room.

Curling up under the furs on his bed, Thorin blew out the bedside candle and stared into the darkness. No tears came, he felt empty, numb, as if even tears no longer had meaning. He lay there for hours, staring blankly into the black of the night, thinking of spilled ink soaking into parchment, sour wine that wasn't strong enough to dull his pain, and a stack of books beside the bed he wanted to burn.

I read a description of Tolkien's once that said there were a large number of dwarves who had no desire to get married and preferred a single life dedicated to their craft, mining, smithing, etc. This has always stuck in my head and was partly the inspiration for this story. A what-if about a political marriage where one of the dwarves fit this description. What about the dwarf who didn't?

I know the end of this chapter is a bummer but the next gets…well, interesting. Enter Dwalin…finally!