TA 2927 – One year later
He sat down wearily, his thighs aching from how long he rode his pony without rest. A raven haired woman offered him a mug of ale which he gratefully took and finished quickly. He did the same with the meal that was brought out for him, the same dark-haired woman serving him with the same appraising smile. "Would you like anything else?" she asked biting her bottom lip, obviously flirting.
"Yes I would," he said and her smile grew. "I would like a room, could you point me towards the innkeeper?" He watched as her smile fell at the realization he had no interest in her and she pointed towards the door that led to the main hall.
He nodded his thanks before walking in the direction he had been pointed and smiled at the person writing in the ledger. "I am disappointed to find tavern whores have been established here," he said coming to a stop at the table. Dark blue eyes filled with complete shock met his and his smile grew larger, happier.
"Thorin?"
Even after a year her voice still sent a thrill through him. "Lily," he said tasting her sweet name. He had hardly been able to breathe the past year without thinking of her, and though he pushed her memory aside it always returned. She was young, she had been innocent, she was naive, and he had taken advantage of her; he felt as though he had a responsibility to her, a duty in seeing her wellbeing.
"What brings you out this way?" she asked politely, as though they had not lain together.
He stared hard at her, noticing small differences in her appearance: she had grown taller, her breasts had grown larger though not too much, she was thinner, her eyes not as happy and her face not as sweet. "Perhaps I have come to see you," he said as though it were not the truth, only that it very much was.
"Why?" she whispered and he moved around the table to stand before her, to feel the heat from her body as he hadn't in a year.
"Perhaps I have missed you," he admitted, surprising himself with how much he had. He missed much about her: her kindness, her youth, her flesh, her mouth, her face. They would spend long hours talking after they had been together, for all her youth she had heard many stories on life and it reflected in her strange maturity. She had been sweet, she was sweet even in how she made love; she was not sweet now. She was sad.
He did not grab her wrist when she raised her hand, he did not stop her fingertips from finding his face; instead he reveled in the feel of her touch. "I had hoped you would return," she said softly, "when you first left. Much has happened since then."
He could hear the despair in her voice but he could not see it in her eyes; he could not see anything in them. "What has happened?" he asked greatly wanting to know.
"How long do you plan to stay?" she asked, him realizing there was much he did not know. He saw a warmth flood through her eyes when she saw the answer in his; in truth he had no plans of leaving soon. "Ask me tomorrow."
And so he did; he woke early the next morn and walked to the kitchen where she was already preparing his breakfast. He came to stand by her side and watched as she made his food, only touching her when he brushed the hair out of her face. "Who is the woman with the dark hair?"
"My cousin, Sage. I needed help and she came willingly. She works for free and stays in a room without charge, so long as she continues working," Lily answered as she handed him the plate.
"You needed help?" he asked remembering how much she did on her own a year ago.
"I own the inn, Thorin, I cannot do it alone." She retrieved a cup of water before leading him to a table and he grabbed her arm to keep her with him.
She sat opposite him and watched as he ate, looking up at her and seeing the sharp planes of her cheeks he made her eat half his plate. He knew for her to own the inn that her mother was dead and it explained the sadness in her eyes as well as how she distanced herself. "What will you do today?"
"I do not have time for your distractions," she said taking his plate back to the kitchen, hearing no mirth in her voice. He watched the furious way in which she scrubbed his plate clean and felt her stiffen when he came up behind her. He ran his hands along her sides until he found her chest, her back arching in his hold. She allowed her head to fall back when his mouth found her neck and he realized she may have missed him too. Her eyes were dark and hooded when he turned her to face him, the desire written clearly in them as they were in his. She cupped his face with her wet hands and pulled his mouth to hers, and he met her needy tongue with his own. It had been a long year.
