A/N: Dear Guest A., and all of you as well, my lovelies,
Re: Thorin not getting it on with anyone else but When all through these years: Well, I think it just wouldn't work with this particular Thorin, in this universe Dwarves bond for life, and he made his choice. It's just our Wren/Alfirin has such severe abandonment issues from her horrible childhood that she constantly thinks that he would eventually dump her and find himself a lovely Dwarfette from a noble family :)
BUT! If you want a dark, experienced and lecherous Thorin (don't we all from time to time:) I refer you to RagdollPrincess and her magnificent fic "What The Future Brings." It is awesome! It is Kili-centered but there is plenty of Thorin and his majestic cock in there, and it is so gooood! :P The fic, not the cock, although… :P
PLUS! I am happy to announce that she was kind enough to like my Wren (and not pair her Thorin with anyone else, but I assure you the queue was endless:), and we are planning to cooperate on a sequel to her story. Her Thorin (oh my ovaries, he is delicious!) and slightly different from the original (but not as different as Alfirin) Wren!
Before the sequel I'll be posting an introductory fic, but honestly, you don't want to miss her story! Check it out, it's amazing! Our cooperation story will consist of two-shots, Kili + OC on her side, and hunky, sexy as fuck Thorin + smarty pants Wren on mine. Hopefully by then I'll be out of my depression corner because my babies in that story are to be nauseatingly happy together and legging it off like bunnies :)
It takes a few days to set back into your routine, you clean the house, restock the pantries, Amrod returns to his service. All through this time you are rigid, quiet, tense. You go see Enna, and she confirms your suspicions. She is shocked, both of you were certain it was never to happen again. She is also very concerned, considering the state your body was last time, there is no possibility for you to carry the child to term, and the longer it stays with you, the more severe the danger your own body is in. You have known Enna since the time you arrived to Ithilien, devastated and lethargic from the loss of your first child, she knows your attitude, the conversation about aborticide does not even arise, but you catch her worried eyes on you.
You are sitting in your kitchen, cutting carrots, and your mind wanders. Since there is no chance for this child to live, is there any point in telling Amrod of it? Or Thorin… The knife halts, and then you realize this is the first time the thought came to you. Before this very moment you have not even thought of who the father of your child is. All you could think is what is to happen to it, how to keep it alive, how to preserve him or her. And immediately certainty comes. It is a son. You drop the knife on the chopping board, and a never known before warmth spreads within you. Strange closeness to your unborn child floods your senses, and you feel awed.
Some little noise seems to stir in your mind, you even turn your head trying to find its source, and then you realize it is coming from within. You listen attentively, and you realize there is a rhythm to this sound. You halt all movement, you hold your breath, and then you hear it. The even, rapid beating of his heart. Your palms fly to your middle.
That is how Mira finds you, frozen in front of uncooked dinner, stunned and immobile, your hands pressed to your flat stomach. You lift your eyes at her and smile. She tilts her head and is studying your face. You pull her closer, embrace her, hide your face into her hair. Slender arms wrap around your neck, and then she strokes your back. "Are you alright, emel?" And you realize that you are, "Yes, my heart, I am happy."
Amrod is absent for four weeks on a scouting expedition, and it gives you time to think. Even when he is home, he hardly appears, sometimes he is missing for a few nights in a row. He spends time with Mira but you two have hardly exchanged more than a dozen words since you left Erebor. You are approaching four moon's mark in your pregnancy, and it is time to let him know.
You are thinking back at the last time the two of you made love. It was the night in Erebor, after you healed the King, in the darkness and silence of the guest chamber. He was tender and slow, it was more caresses and reassurance than passion, you reciprocated, but knew that your heart was not into it, and you two fell asleep in each other arms. You do not take any herbs, since you thought your body was incapable of conceiving a child. And the morning after you bedded the King. The chances are equal.
Every night you lie in your bed, and the never ending circle of thoughts races through your mind. If the child is Amrod's, you are to stay with him. Another child in the house, another child you have to take care of on your own... As attentive and loving as he is towards Mira, he is hardly ever around. Scouting expeditions, patrols, trainings keep him away more than often. It has always seemed favourable for you, you have your own life, your service, Mira… All your world is in your daughter, all your love poured into her, all your devotion given to her. She returns your loyalty and your affection, the two of you coexisting in a blissful harmony. She loves her father, but they are not close. When Amrod is around, he does not disrupt the balance in the house, but his absence is hardly a grievance for the two of you.
Such life has always seemed fitting for you, you would hate to be stranded by a constant presence of another person in your life, in your bed, you cannot imagine waking up every morning in a tight embrace of a man, it must be suffocating. Whenever Amrod was around in these years, you spent the loveliest of time together, reminiscent of the first days of your romance, a whirlpool of dancing, playing, endless small gifts brought for you and Mira, and after hours, passionate loving all over the house. He is very fond of spontaneous tumble in some inappropriate place, the kitchen table, or a window sill, and you often have to tend to purple bruises on your body after his stays. And then he would leave, and your life would go back to its flow, slow and safe.
And then you think back to the years you spent in Erebor, and how different your life was then, and fear clenches on your heart. You never allowed yourself reminisce of those four years, but now the memories flood your mind. Being with Thorin meant being enveloped in him, in his heat, in his passion, in his life. His troubles were yours, his moods affected your days, and every morning you woke up in his crushing arms, his nose buried in your hair, and then he would pull you even closer, and half asleep he would start kissing you, and soon enough clothes would be shed, and his heavy scorching body would cover yours. You were never alone, you were never without him. But you loved it, loved his presence, loved the fire and warmth that seeped through your skin and through your whole existence. You craved it, you could not sleep in the first weeks after you left Erebor. You ran when his presence was gone, your heart was weeping for it, your body yearning for him, and you remember crying in the empty bed, when he would stay in his study late in the evening, and occasionally, more and more often, spend a night in it. You were always cold those last nights before you left. And you felt you would never warm your fingers and feet again.
If the child is his, will he let you return to Erebor? Will he let you live in his city? How will you endure if he decides to place you in one of the rooms in Erebor and marry another woman and father her children, and what will happen to your son? And then you berate yourself, such thoughts are the reason for the calamity that is your life right now! Had you trusted him all those years ago, had you tried to talk to him instead of running, shared your doubts and fears, would you have been by his side still? You do not know, but then you think that you would not have Mira, and this thought does not allow you regret your past.
You think of your belongings preserved and unmoved in his chambers, and tears come. He loved you, had loved you through the years you were absent, and you broke him again. You betrayed him again, and you think of the vulnerable pained eyes he raised at you when you were bandaging his wound. Your fingers grazed his skin, and his body jolted. Will he be happy to find out your mistake bore a wonderful gift or you caused too much pain for him to have anything to do with you, even if there is a babe? You toss and turn, and finally fall asleep. Dreams come, and you get up in the morning, frustrated and even more confused.
Before Amrod's return you go see Enna again, and the visit brings surprising news. Your body seems to be striving, you are healthier and stronger than before, perhaps stronger than you have been in years. Unlike Mira, your second child seems to be large, but your body is coping. You confirm to her that you do indeed have remarkable appetite and do not have any unpleasant symptoms. You are lively, and despite all the emotional turmoil you feel elated. Enna can only shake her head in astoundment. The boy is faring very well and even seems to invigorate your body. You are aware that some women manage to overcome some of their illnesses and weaknesses during pregnancy, but neither of you has ever seen such drastic improvement.
Mira is asleep, it is past midnight, when Amrod opens the door to your small house. You are sitting at the kitchen table, your hands folded on your lap, waiting for him. He drops the backpack on the floor and silently goes to the basin. He washes the grime and dust off his face and turns to you. He gives you the hollow lifeless smirk that you are so used to seeing on his lips these days, and his voice is tired, "What other confession am I to expect now, Alfirin? Have you committed another adultery while I was away?"
You shake your head and look down at your hands again. He heavily sits on another chair and places his large palms on the table. He drops his head, and he sounds almost pleading, "Can we just get on with it, Alfirin? Have some decency to at least tell me everything upfront, there is surely no need to prolong this tension. I am rather tired."
"I am with child," his eyes fly to your face, and his lips half open. Myriads of emotions run through his features, and you see hope, and doubt, and suspicion, and anger. He has an expressive face, his eyes always candid when talking with you, and you remember how you used to appreciate his openness with you, after many years of deciphering slight changes in the stern face of the Dwarven King. You let him think, his mind swift and astute.
He governs his emotions and asks in a gruff voice, "Is it mine?" "I do not know." "Of course you do not..." He shakes his head. Surely he has thought over all the possible scenarios by now. "What are you planning to do, Alfirin?" You sigh, you have prepared for this question, "If the babe survives, I will wait till it is born and will let its father know." That about summarizes it, and he shakes his head again. "So cold, so reasonable… If it is mine, are you inclined to stay with me? I will obviously accept you and your child, since I have no pride left in me. If it is his, you will travel to Erebor and bestow the King with a child, perhaps even an heir..." Something stops you from telling him that you are certain it is a son.
He exhales, and there is an almost smirk on his lips. He leans back on his chair and shakes his head. "What happened to you, Alfirin? It is as if I do not even know the woman who lives with me…" You bite into your bottom lip. He is studying your face, "Or perhaps the woman I thought I lived with never existed." You frown in confusion and look at him questioningly. "I had some time to think about it, Alfirin, and I think of what I saw in you in the Dwarven kingdom. Your fire, your passion, your magic, this is the real you, Alfirin, this is you, not the ranger's wife, not the demure midwife in a simple linen dress..." He gestures at you. "When I met you, Alfirin, your braids reached your waist, the rings and velvet adorned you, and I thought, that is a bird in a cage, I will free her and she will join me in my flight. I was hoping to liberate you..."
"And you did!" You lean to him, but he moves away. "You did! You made me strong, and confident, and brave! I am not afraid to say what I want, to do what I want..." And then you realize what you are saying. He chuckles, "Indeed, Alfirin, that you are not. If anything, you did what you wanted. Answer one question for me, Alfirin, just one question. Do you regret it?"
You wait for your heart to beat twice and shake your head. "That is the answer I was hoping for, Alfirin. It is cruel, heartless, merciless, which means it is true. You destroyed my life, broke my heart, deprived me of my family, and you do not regret it. Because you are and have always been in love with the Dwarven King." You look at his stern cold face, and you have nothing to say.
"Whose child are you bearing, Filegethiel?" You jerk from hearing your old name, and suddenly he jumps on his feet, his hand picks up a kitchen knife from the table in a fluid swift movement, and he presses his palm in your neck, pinning your to the tall back of the chair. You gasp and the only thought thrashing in your mind is to protect your child.