The world was pleasantly spinning, all glorious and warm and cheerful as Thorín marched, out-of-breath and giddy, back to the dam he knew was waiting for him and beamed at the thought of it. He wove his way between bystanders and drunkards, going the long way around the dancefloor before he finally rejoined his partner. Thriva was looking around nervously, peering at the dwarrow crowding the edge of the floor where he had left her.
He bowed, scaring an undignified yelp out of her when she suddenly discovered him there, and handed her one of the mugs he held, chuckling as she calmed herself, "Your drink, m'Lady."
"Och! Stop, you," Thriva chided at the title, taking the drink from his hand with narrowed eyes and smirking lips.
Thorin was unable to stop smiling. He tipped his glass toward her and drank after she had done the same, the both of them finishing their mugs with a healthy appetite.
For a moment, while he stared at her, it felt as though they were the only two dwarves there. She smiled, blushing despite her already flushed face, and looked shyly into her now empty vessel. He kept looking, examining the curves of her face, ears, shoulders, hair...everything his eyes had access to. He wanted to commit her to memory. He finally spoke what was on his mind, releasing her from his unflinching attention by gently handing both of their empty mugs to a passing servant.
"Thank you, Thriva, for dancing with me tonight."
She looked at him in shock, disbelief clear in her voice, "Thank me for dancing?"
She laughed, loudly, throwing her head back to let it out, and continued, "You ridiculous dwarf! You thanking me! HA!"
Thorin remained unfazed by her doubt, grinning fondly, content to wait until she accepted it. Her characteristic smirk graced her features and she glared playfully, "I believe it is I who should be thanking you."
"Aah. Well, then, you are welcome." Thorin quipped, enjoying her responding annoyance.
He took her hand before she could slap him for his insolence and admired her fingers for a moment, placing a kiss on her knuckles. He watched a flurry of emotions cross her face - amusement, confusion, contentment, worry - which spurred him to ask, "What troubles you?"
"If this had been any other night," she said with a sigh, "I would not have known who you were."
She had not taken her hand back so he continued to rub his thumb over the soft skin there as he spoke, "We were only recently introduced…"
"You are not yourself, my Prince!" She sounded exasperated, her free hand waving slightly as if the gesture would help him understand.
Thorin hummed in response, pulling her toward him, "Please, call me Thorin."
She withdrew her hand from his grip, flailing for a moment before brushing the curled cloud of hair from her brow, "No, no, stop. You annae listnin' to me."
"Thriva?" Thorin was utterly confused by her sudden outburst, concerned that he had done something to offend her.
She ignored him, swaying slightly when she waved her hand at him again. "I thought the Prince I met in Dis' chambers was the Thorin you would be tonight. But you are more the dwarf on the balcony. Perhaps because we've been drinkin', aye?" Nodding to herself, she added "Oh, aye."
"Are you saying…?" Thorin was unsure how to finish that question. He did not want her to confirm she was here because she was under the influence of alcohol. He would not be able to cope with the knowledge that she had danced with him, held him, smiled at him the way she had because she was not in control of herself. He refused to believe that "the dwarf on the balcony" was something he was not. He left off, hoping she would save him from voicing those particular fears, doing his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.
She shook her head as if to clear it, continuing as if he had not spoken. "I am no Lady, Thorin."
He thrilled at the sound of his name from her lips but she did not stop so he brought his attention back to what she was saying. "I am no noble, I am merely Thriva. Tonight, I have already heard whispers that I have drugged you, that you are under some spell to even be seen with me. I want to go back to the balcony and be away from all these voices and judgement. It is much to take in, the conviction of so many I do not know!"
She pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks and sighed again, deeply, before shaking her hands by her sides. "Mahal save me, I've never had so many people stare at me. This is a dream; it cannot be real."
Thorin was unable to tell if she was speaking to herself or to him but it did not stop him from looking around. She was correct, people were staring at the two of them and it was probable that they had been for quite a while. He realized, in a sudden instant, that he had spent the entire night dancing with this dam, a dam he had not taken his eyes off of since setting foot on the dance floor, a dam who had made him forget his place under this mountain.
The same dam who seemed to be on the verge of deserting him. The image in his mind of her leaving, a mask of fear and regret covering her lovely face, pulled something in his chest and it hurt. He remembered, too, what his sister had told him of her precarious social status and the possibility of her being considered a throne-beggar because she associated with him. He stepped toward her again, making sure there was a decent amount of space between them and held her hand in both of his.
Earnestly, he spoke, "Thriva, forgive me. I have been careless of you this evening."
She stopped shaking and waited. Thorin took it as his chance to continue. "I have only thought of my own enjoyment without regard to your status. I would never wish to cause you a scandal by staying at your side all night. It has been quite selfish of me, putting you in the center of all this attention with little thought to your wishes."
She would not look at him but pressed her lips together, focusing on her hand between his. "As ridiculous as that speech is, I thank you for it. It was my wish to have been here with you this night, my Prince. I only fear this has all been some lucid vision where you say and do everything I've ever wanted and, soon, I will wake and be myself once again."
"But you are yourself, Thriva." Thorin smiled down at her, unable to stop himself once he started. "If you were not, I would not be here."
She closed her eyes and shook her head again, as if she were denying his words. He thought back on what she had said, asking with a slow smile, "Is that how this night has gone for you? Like a dream?"
Her eyes remained closed but a dimple appeared in one cheek. She nodded and he tried to grasp the full meaning of that. He had done and said everything she had ever wanted. He wondered if she had thought about him before and, if so, had this been her idea of a perfect evening? He surmised it must be so or she would not feel this way. It filled him with heady pride that he did nothing to contain. It would not do to have her question the reality of this. He would have to show her it was no dream, that his words and actions were his own. How was he to do it, though?
The song that had been playing in the background came to an end and there was a brief lull in the din. The beginning strains of the next piece followed by the groans and whoops of excitement sparked an idea in his head that he felt bold enough to seize.
"I was hoping you would do something for me."
She turned her face up toward him, brown eyes finally looking into his, "What is that?"
He shrugged out of his overcoat, revealing the matched vest beneath and the pale cloth of his shirtsleeves. He folded it roughly and held it out to her, waiting to see her reaction.
Her eyebrows attempted to reach her hairline, her anxiety doused by her confusion. He stepped into her space where he had been all night, holding the coat between them.
"Hold this for me," he murmured into her ear, "until I return."
When Thorin stepped away, her mouth was open slightly and she grasped his overcoat in both hands. She stayed where she was on the edge of the dancefloor, agape at what unfolded before her.
As the dams had done at the beginning of the night, so too were the dwarrow expected to dance. Complicated steps combined with an ever increasing tempo made for quite the test, added to the fact that most dwarrow were overly intoxicated by this point. Instead of being a display of eligibility, however, each participant was required to prove himself in the skill of the dance and those who remained until the end of the song were considered highly desirable. This was exactly the reason Thorin did not dance - he was more than a piece of royal bait.
Tonight was different, though. Thriva was different. Tonight he danced for no one but her and that made every step worthwhile. If all eyes were on the two of them, he would ensure it was something that no one would forget.
Dwarves of every shape and age migrated to the floor, spacing themselves out in such a way that they would not trample one another. There was barely enough room to hold all the dwarrow wishing to dance and many had to step out even before it began. Thorin found himself in the front row between the last two dwarves he would have ever expected.
Tormund grinned at him, nodding to Dwalin on Thorin's other side, "Not the only one trying to impress someone, Princey."
Dwalin, looking nervous, nodded back stiffly, "Aye. Can't let ye hog all the glory."
Thorin laughed and rolled up his sleeves above his elbows, preparing himself for the beginning of the song. He did not have to wait long but something he should have realized much earlier in the evening struck him after only the first few steps were taken.
He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
The dance was a mixture of agile footwork and body movements which he had never completely forgotten. Because of his placement, he was always relatively close to the forefront and made certain never to lose sight of the dam in the red dress. There were several moments he was sure he had lost his footing but he managed to save himself at the last moment, remaining on the floor for several rounds of the song. He stomped and jumped along with the music, clapping where necessary and spinning when required, beaming all the while. He felt exhilarated from dancing, but nothing compared to the look on Thriva's face whenever he saw it.
Simply put, she glowed from the edge of the crowd. On several occasions, when he sought to find her, she was clapping around the bulk of his coat in time with the beat, her face split into a glorious grin. The most memorable part, though, was knowing that she only had eyes for him.
Dwarves left the floor in droves over the first few rounds, honor-bound to eliminate themselves when a mistake was made. It was all part of the dance - the more rounds that were successfully completed, the more accomplished the participant. Each round became faster, making the already difficult steps more problematic. It was not long before only twenty-or-so dancers remained. Thorin, Tormund and Dwalin were amongst them as well as Frerin, to Thorin's disappointment.
It was a grueling competition but, eventually, Thorin made a misstep and escorted himself off the floor. He was proud that he had outlasted Dwalin, at least, but Tormund and Frerin were still going strong and he rued his lack of practice for the first time in many years. He made his way back to Thriva's side, less disappointed in himself when he saw how her eyes shone for him.
She still held his overcoat to her chest, jumping with excitement as he neared to show her feelings of his performance. If her actions were not enough to make him smile, her words would have. "You should be so proud!"
"Should I?" He placed his hands at her waist without thinking, wanting to draw her closer to him. "I was far from finishing."
If his hands bothered her, she made no argument. Instead, she accepted it with oblivious ease, as if it were natural for him to do so. "You have not danced for years, my Prince. You should be proud you made it through the first round!"
Thorin laughed, unabashed, "I'm better than that, I should say!"
She beamed in response, her eyes holding him with wonder and he found he was proud. Not of his dancing, of course, but proud that he had such a beautiful dam looking at him with such adoration. That was something to be proud of.
Her eyes cut to the side suddenly and the look she had been giving him turned to one of red-faced shame. He turned his head to see what had changed her attitude and found a group of Ladies surrounding the Lady Bira, glaring in their direction. His scowl returned and he leveled a returning glare in their direction. Once it was noted, each of them seemed to remember whom they were glaring at and found somewhere else to point their pig noses.
"Would you like to take some air with me?" Thorin was still glaring at the gaggle of dams but when he spoke to Thriva, he spoke gently. She nodded, staring only at his chest.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, steering her out of the main hall and toward a more unoccupied corridor. They did not approach the main doors, opting instead for a small alcove not far from the celebrations. He bade her sit on one of the stone benches and she complied, her smile returned now that they were away from prying eyes.
He sat beside her, giving enough space between their legs to approach decorum but he found it difficult to stay so far away. While he was deciding if it would be acceptable to hold her hand, she shivered and he distracted himself by wrapping his overcoat around her instead.
She murmured her thanks, still not meeting his gaze. He tipped up her chin toward him with his finger so he could look at her while he said, "I am sorry for the attention this has brought you."
She smiled again, wider this time. "It is manageable when compared to yours."
He grinned and she realized what she had said, "No! I meant compared to the attention you are constantly under! Oh, by the stone."
She buried her face in her hands and he laughed. He pulled her hands away from her face and placed them on his chest, caressing them with his thumbs.
"You are impossibly endearing." He had not realized how close they had become until he spoke, sensing that her lips were near his. His heart began drumming in his chest and time seemed somehow to slow.
"Is that bad?" She was whispering, her eyes wide as they searched his face.
No. He may have spoken it or it may have been only in his mind because he was solely focused on how close he was to kissing her. His entire being hung on their mingled breath.
"Thriva?"
Swallowing that much desire was painful but Thorin managed it through sheer willpower. Thriva appeared just as displeased about the interruption if he were to judge by the annoyed look on her face and the curse she let out under her breath. Together, they turned toward the silhouette casting a shadow over them.
Frerin stood a few steps away from them, his expression unreadable in the darkness of the alcove. Thorin released Thriva's hands and a made more acceptable space between them. He cleared his throat and addressed him, "Frerin."
"Thorin." He could tell from his brother's tone he was not happy to see him there and Thorin felt the irritation he had almost forgotten come back to him in a wave. It was all he could do not to sneer.
Thriva ignored them both. "Frerin? Is everything alright?"
"Oh, aye. Everything is fine. I was only looking for you to talk." Frerin seemed torn between anger toward Thorin and cordial conversation with Thriva. The blonde Prince continued, trying to ease the uncomfortable situation. "Were you able to see the dance?"
"Yes, of course!" Thriva looked confused. "I left before the end in order to get some air but… did you finish?"
Frerin beamed, nodding enthusiastically. Thriva cheered, "Huzzah! Well done, Prince Frerin!"
Thorin wanted to congratulate his brother as well but found it did not win over the urge to strangle him. He remained silent.
In that silence, the mood became uncomfortably tense between the three of them. Frerin looked from one to the other before speaking again. "Thriva, would you allow me to escort you home?"
It was then that Thorin realized exactly what Frerin's motivations were. It was as if the clouds of ignorance had parted over his head and sudden understanding dawned on him - this was not some short lived conquest. Frerin intended to court her and Thorin was fouling it up each step of the way. He stood, linking his hands behind his back.
"It is your choice, my Lady." Thorin meant it, too. He would not vie against his brother in this, now that he knew. Frerin was looking at him with some suspicion.
Thriva was toneless in her reply, "I am no Lady."
Thorin had known what she would say and she was barely finished when he looked directly at her and said, "You are to me."
She scowled, glared at each of them and huffed, "The stone curse you both."
"Alright, fine." She stood and stepped in front of Frerin, her upward tilted face bathed in torchlight. She had slipped her arms into the sleeves of his overcoat and looked more like a child facing off against a giant than an adult standing before another adult. Thorin missed her already.
She looked the younger Price straight in the eye and lifted her chin. "I thank you for your offer, Prince Frerin, but I already have a escort home."
She took a step back and curtsied. Thorin stood agog and Frerin seethed.
No one spoke for a long minute. When he did, it was obvious that Frerin was unhappy. "As my brother said, it is your choice."
Frerin bowed and stalked away, his boots hitting the floor with the force of a forge hammer. Thorin did not watch him go.
"Thriva…" Thorin stopped, unsure how to continue. He stammered for the first time in years. "Is...what...are you sure?"
Thriva gave him a pitying look, "I have always been sure I do not want to go home with Frerin."
She wrapped her arms around herself walking past him into the hallway. He followed her, feeling literally and figuratively that he was a few steps behind.
"It is not that he's unkind or bothersome." She spoke to him over her shoulder until he walked beside her again. "Well, no. He is quite bothersome. However, he has a good heart and is never a bore."
Thorin agreed but did not know how to word it. Instead, Thriva continued, "He is just so young…"
He laughed, looking at her in disbelief. "Oh, aye! As if you are an old hag...
"What a thing to say to a Lady!" she scoffed.
She smirked at his unimpressed stare. "I care for the young Prince, that much is true but only as one would care for a brother."
"He is someone's brother." Thorin smiled a little, then stopped.
Thriva eyed him warily. "Do you think I am confused, Son of Durin? Caught between two handsome princes and my brain is become so addled I cannae see straight? Oh! What a story to tell!"
It was Thorin's turn to eye her warily, especially after she began to giggle like a maidling. After a moment of observation, he found he could not contain his own laughter.
"I am lucky you prefer the elder brother, aye?" Thorin continued to grin. Thriva developed a downright devious expression.
"Who is to say I prefer either of them?"
Thorin did laugh at this, knowing full well what the truth was after she sent Frerin away. She corrected herself with much chagrin, "Oh, fine! Alright, shut yer trap you bouldergob."
"It is not that I don't believe you," Thorin managed between guffaws, "despite that I do not believe you, but only that...I see a light in your eyes that I hope you hold for no other dwarf."
She shrugged, cheeks rosy from his amusement with her choice of words. "It may have been so once. I could not rightly say."
"Is it true you are already a widow?" Thorin blurted, perhaps a mite to loud. Her shock was nothing to his embarrassment.
He began apologizing before she could even speak. She stopped walking, turned to face him and crossed her arms. Her mouth was a thin line.
He waited with apprehension, poised for a wrath like Dis' to erupt from her but she only asked, "Who have you been listening to?"
"Tormund told me he knew you." Thorin could not stop the words.
Her face brightened, "Oh. Well, then."
When she started walking again, he followed her in surprise. She let him catch up before inquiring, "What did he say?"
Thorin shook his head. "Nothing much. He told me you and Dotri bonded as widows."
"Ah, he would." She nodded, a small smile on her face. "I believe he was trying to break that to you as easily as possible."
She returned the confused look he gave her. "What? It is uncommon for a dwarrow to choose a widow."
"Then it is good I am no commoner."
She smiled shyly at that, saying softly, "No. You are far from that."
Thorin fought a smile, taking that moment to view their surroundings. The corridor they followed was lined on both side with the doorways of homes carved directly into the mountain wall. The floor sloped gradually downward, leading to lower and lower levels of residence. He would soon know where she lived.
He turned to her again, keeping pace with her if not slightly ahead. "Would you wish not to speak of him with me?"
"Do you wish me to speak of him?" Her eyes narrowed in confusion.
Thorin considered that, having not previously done so. Did he truly want to know about her late husband? He knew enough, at the moment, to satisfy the majority of his curiosity. He knew he could carry on without it keeping him awake at night. However, there was a part of him that burned to know her and, so, he nodded. "I do."
She looked at him appraisingly so he added, "I feel I am at a great disadvantage for you know so much more of me than I of you." He paused. "I would wish to know more of your past. If you would share it."
She nodded, "Tis' fair enough."
They walked in silence while she gathered her thoughts, Thorin a bit apprehensive as to what she would say. He was sure he wanted to know if she still felt strongly about her husband. Perhaps, now, she only wished to pass the time with him? The thought did not quite fit with her behavior.
She seemed to both want to stand with him and yet also avoid the attention he brought her which did not seem like someone looking for a lark. He pondered other answers she might give and he considered his response to each, his mind flickering through possibilities with the speed of lightning between storm clouds.
She interrupted his thoughts gently, her voice resolute, "My husband...my late husband, that is, returned to the stone these twelve years past...he was a good dwarf."
Thorin waited, doubting that was all she could say now that she had started. She continued after a brief pause. "He was a quarry miner for the Guild. He was not on the council but my father held a seat and he was my father's right hand. My father, under the coercion of my blessed mother, was grooming him to take his seat when the time came for him to retire from the mines. I'm sure most of the council would have happily allowed him to remain, even after he ceased to work."
Thriva lifted her eyes from her feet, her mind in the past. "He wanae the smartest dwarf I'd ever met but he was kind and thoughtful. He wanted what was best for my family and always had. He was orphaned at a young age, his mother and father both killed in the same collapse when he was but a dwarfling. He and I grew up together and my mother doted on him as the son she ne'er had. It rankled me not at all, for I knew she hadnae wanted a daughter. It was nice to have the company of a playmate after being alone for so long."
"Did your mother have a profession?" Thorin asked, genuinely curious about her family.
She nodded. "She was also a weaver and something of a matchmaker. Many people hailed her advice like gold for she was a solid thinker. Someone once told me she could see the future when she looked at someone and could tell whom they should marry from one glance."
Thorin snorted, "A likely case. I'm sure all matchmakers say the same."
Thriva smiled, sadly. "Aye, and I cannot attest to the truth of it. I only know that she was well sought after and I was always meant to do the same. I was there for each meeting she had and she taught me signs to look for and what I should say when looking at their palms and teeth."
"Teeth?" Thorin was incredulous but Thriva only laughed.
"Aye! No one wants a toothless mate! Bad teeth are a sign of ill health and lower class, it is important to know who you match is of the same birth and class."
Thorin took pause to think of that, "Why should that matter so much?"
Thriva gave him a look that indicated he should know the answer, to which he defended his own thought. "Should matchmaking not be more about how two dwarrow feel for one another rather than birth and class?"
Thriva narrowed her eyes at him, but not in anger. It was compassion he saw there. "It is the way of marriages, my Prince. You may not understand this yourself, but marriages are matches made by the family far more often than couples blessed with a mutual desire."
Thorin blinked as he tried to understand the concept, "You mean an arranged marriage?"
"A match made based off of financial betterment for both families, yes. Arranged is a good word for it." Thriva nodded amiably.
"Is that how you would describe your marriage?" Thorin wanted to tread carefully but knew no other way to word his question. The way she had described things so far did not indicate that she had been particularly happy with it.
She didn't answer right away but eventually nodded, "I suppose you could call it that, though no one gained anything financially. My mother only wanted a son and my late husband was the one she chose. He and I agreed to it after much...contention. Neither of us wanted to be married and my father was against it but would say nothing to anger my mother. She won out, in the end."
Thorin twitched his nose in disgust, "That sounds awful."
Thriva laughed and Thorin apologized, "I did not mean that as it sounded...I am sorry it came off so rudely."
"Nay, Thorin, you are only being honest. I cannae take offence to honesty."
He decided then that he truly enjoyed hearing her say his name. It gave him strength. "Did you love him?"
He knew it was a bold question and waited to see if he had overstepped his bounds. When she did not answer after a moment, he started to take back his words and apologize again for his abruptness but she interrupted him, "I did."
Thorin stopped, his heart dropping into his stomach. Thriva stopped beside him, thinking without looking at him, her brow furrowed. She opened her mouth a few times in an attempt to say something but thought better of it or perhaps lost the words. Thorin waited, wanting something to come from her to elicit hope in him again for it was fast draining. If she still loved her husband, where would that leave him? Thorin did not wish to live in the shadow of a dead dwarrow.
Finally, she looked at him, "I loved him because he was my friend and my partner. He cared for me though he didnae desire the marriage either. Even now I could not tell you if he wanted me at all for I think his interest lay elsewhere. Our beds were separate and that was the only thing we had done for one another within our marriage. That was ours alone. My mother would have thrown a fit if she'd known and so she ne'er did. My father took him on as his prospect and my mother loved him. We mostly left each other alone and, for that, I loved him."
Thorin felt relief followed by a deep shame, knowing he should not be thankful she had such a loveless marriage. He felt it necessary to stop the conversation there before he really did cross a line. "I appreciate you telling me. I know much about you that I did not before and, for that, I am truly grateful."
She smiled, "You are welcome."
They continued walking, Thriva mentioning that they were close to her home and would be there soon. He nodded, not wishing for the night to end so quickly. She startled him by saying, "You act as though I know so much about you but what can one really know about a Prince?"
"How do you mean?" Thorin tried not to look confused.
"You have said that you are at a disadvantage for I know more of you than you know of me when this is not the case." She stopped at a broad beamed wooden door and he realized this was her home.
Instead of answering, he pointed toward it in question and she nodded without looking at it. He sighed when she continued to look at him in expectation. "I presumed you had spoken to Tormund as I had, I suppose."
She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips, "Nay, my Prince. I only know stories of you that anyone under the mountain would have heard."
Thorin's shoulders sagged slightly, "Oh, aye? And which would those be?"
She shrugged, "Your prowess on the field and your battles against the roving Orc packs that plague our mountain."
Thorin smirked, "I doubt the stories are accurate."
"Well, yer still alive. They must be partially true."
At that Thorin did smile. He wanted to kiss her, now that there had been time between their last attempt and it's foiling. He was completely unsure of himself in this, though, and knew not how to lead up to it, when it had happened so naturally before. He looked at his fingers, twisting a rogue thread he had pulled from his vest moments before.
"Thriva…"
"Thorin…"
The two of them laughed, having spoken at the same moment. Thorin conceded, gesturing for her to continue. When she shook her head, he bit his lip, examining her face. "About earlier…"
"Yes?"
Thorin wanted to say...something. He was completely at a loss for words. How was he going to broach the subject without appearing forward or wanton? He realized he already was a little of both.
"I only wanted..." He stopped. He knew not how to continue.
In a way that was utterly her own, she interrupted his thoughts once more by grabbing the beard under his chin and pulling him into kiss.
At first, he was so shocked he froze and remained that way until her lips moved against his. His heart doubled in speed at the small movement and he felt lightheaded in the most pleasant of ways. Abruptly, she pushed him away again, her eyes dark with the wideness of her pupils even in the low light.
"Well, goodnight."
And then she was gone, leaving Thorin to find his way back alone.