Hi all!

Thank you again for all your follows and faves, I am overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter! This chapter is dedicated to my lovely reviewers dragynfyre18 and Tinymentbien :-) … hope you like it and can forgive me for my mean cliffhanger!

I took some inspiration from Jane Austin here, the chapter is short but incredibly significant to me

OK so after my Author note at the beginning of the last chapter I have been thinking long and hard about the sex = marriage thing in middle earth society… and … yeah... I simply can't bring myself to agree with it! So I am altering my stance slightly that I still think couples will enjoy each others company outside of marriage, but going all the way would be seriously frowned upon. So most people would attempt to stay celibate (but probably wouldn't manage it!). So in the world of my fic I have decided that it is accepted that it probably does go on some-times, but it would be deeply frowned upon and risky behaviour so it would be kept behind closed doors.

Anyway, onwards and upwards… enjoy this chapter!

~ G

Chapter 13: Wounded pride

She stood staring at the dwarf king for a few moments. He was leaning an arm against the door frame and she could see his just see a hint of rippling pectorals beneath the open neckline of his dark blue tunic. He would have looked nonchalant if not for his fingers tapping the door fame.

Thorin slowly looked up at her and took a breath as though steeling himself for something. Freya found herself momentarily getting lost in the heated gaze of those sapphire blue eyes. Regaining her composure as silence stretched on, she whispered to him feeling that anything other than a whisper may make him vanish like a mirage.

"Thorin?"

"Freya…" he whispered back, his voice husky sending shockwaves to Freya's very core and momentarily stealing her breath again. "May I come in?" He asked tentatively. She stood aside by way of an answer allowing him to walk in to her room and close the door.

She gulped steeling herself as he looked around the room his eyes falling on her long overcoat and corset now draped over a high backed chair. They had both been returned this afternoon, cleaned and fully repaired, the corset now sporting leather and light steel chain over her shoulders where she had been struck.

"You were not at dinner this evening." he commented as his eyes continued to roam the room, falling on the small bouquet of lavender Freya had cut that afternoon, his lips curling ever so slightly in the corners, so much so that Freya thought she had imagined it.

"I was not hungry." She relied quietly and lamely, he nodded in reply, still taking in her room.

He slowly turned to face her, his eyes flicking to the bed and lingering there a moment. He appeared to mentally shake himself before looking into her eyes swallowing hard.

"Freya,…" he begun then appeared to be at a loss for how to go on. "Freya." He repeated more firmly this time, but again appearing unsure how to proceed with what he obviously had to say. He turned away and paced letting out a soft curse in khuzdul. Freya went to a sideboard and finding the brandy that Lindir had brought to her room earlier she poured a generous measure into two of the waiting crystal goblets. She did not know where this conversation was going, but if Thorin was this nervous she was probably going to need it. She had not seen him nervous before, even in the face of his own imminent demise.

She walked over to where he stood handing him a glass tentatively, he took it gratefully and drank it in one, returning to the sideboard to refill it. Freya sipped hers but soon downed the rest when she watched him fill his goblet with his back to her. Her eyes drifted down the flowing hair on his shoulders and back travelling slowly further down before they reseted briefly on his sculpted bottom and thighs. She blushed looking quickly away, feeling like a naughty teenager. Now was not the time for lechery.

He walked over to the balcony and stood breathing in the fresh air while Freya refilled her own glass. She walked over to stand next to Thorin and turned to look at him as he turned to look at her. He put his glass down on a small trestle table and took hers from her placing it beside his, their fingers momentarily connecting and a warm sensation spreading in her stomach at the contact.

He took a deep breath as he begun to say what he had come to day. She steeled herself as a serious look returned to his eyes.

"Oh this will not do." He said as he looked away from her. "In vain I have struggled against this, and it simply will not do." He looked up at her expectantly, almost accusing. She met his gaze with a look of confusion. Getting no response other than that he continued.

"Do you wish me to beg? I have been struggling against this. I thought that avoiding you would work, but it has made things worse. Now I am undone and I can go on no longer. I have come to beg you… Lift this enchantment?… Please?"

The world appeared to be running in slow motion as she continued to stare completely nonplussed. As she opened her mouth to ask the question, Thorin answered for her before she could ask it.

"Since the moment we met, I have come to feel… a passionate attraction to you. I did not know what it was at first, but it has begun to consume me. You occupy my every thought to the point that I can no longer sleep for you occupy my dreams as well. I will not be weak and let this affect my quest for Erebor. So I have come to beg you, now that I know that you are a witch and this is an enchantment, to lift it. Please?"

The world felt like there was no gravity all of a sudden as Freya's knees buckled, she swayed and in an instant Thorin had caught her, wrapping his arms around her securely. He sat her on the nearest chair, at least there was fresh air here on the balcony he mused as he returned with her brandy. Freya looked into her lap, embarrassed that she had actually swooned in front of him. She mentally berated herself for being so pathetic; she was no helpless damsel in distress, so why swoon?

As he handed the brandy to her their fingers brushed each other again and Thorin was surprised to feel the shockwaves going through him, though he considered the enchantment may not lift instantaneously. He crouched before her looking her in the eyes as though he could read the secrets of her soul in a look. Freya too a shaky breath as she took a sip of brandy.

"You think that this is an enchantment?" She asked finding her voice and looking incredulously down at him crouched before her, her eyes bright with unshed tears that she battled to hold back.

"What else could it be?" Thorin replied. "I thought it might have been a genuine passion, but I do not think so. You are a witch, a sorceress, and fables tell that they are capable of ensnaring the minds of those they wish to." Thorin straightened and stood now looking down on her with obvious effort before he continued "I want to tell you that whatever it is that you want, I cannot give it to you." He appeared to genuinely believe it.

"Thorin." She began unsure as to what to say. The gravity had returned to the world and it was crushing her, she could not breathe. "Besides my being a witch I do not know what would make you think that this is the case. I have cast no such enchantment and if your feelings are unwelcome then I am sorry. But I have not the ability to create this, or any sort of emotion thought magical means." Thorin scoffed as he stood.

"And I am to believe this? That is exactly what Gandalf said, what are you two up to?" Thorin began, his eyes narrowing and starting to feel the anger that only she could stir in him. "I would ask why my earnest request has been turned aside with little or no thought, but I know why… You seek to control Erebor through me! Well I assure that will never happen!"

Her anger rose in an instant to match his and she stood and faced him, the air practically crackling between them as they were both growing so angry.

"You think the only reason I would show you friendship is for material reward? What do you think I am? A man?… Let us get one thing clear Thorin Oakenshield. I am not interested in taking the throne of Erebor, nor will I ever be! You think I have conjured these unwelcome feelings for you, but there is not a power in Middle Earth that could do such a thing!" Freya's eyes sparkled with unshed tears again, but she would not allow herself to cry, she was far too angry at him to allow herself to show any form of weakness.

"You lie!" He accused

"I do not, you may confirm what I say with Gandalf if you prefer, but it will not change anything… You. Are. Mistaken." She all but growled the last bit, her voice shaking with anger and the effort of holding in her tears but still managing to enunciate every syllable.

Thorin did not know whether to seize her and shake her, or kiss her and take her wrath. He had to admit that the more angry she got with him the greater the fire in his veins and pooling in his loins. This was lust, he recognised it well, though it had not been awoken in him in so long for he had buried it deep within him. He could not tell whether it was more than lust, he had never experienced love for those outside of his family, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss her breathless, throw her on the bed and rip that flimsy robe from her to see what lay beneath.

He let out a growl of frustration, again misinterpreting his growing desire as the result of some enchantment.

"Get out of my head, woman!" He growled at her. It was getting harder to not shout as his anger rose, but he did not want to wake everyone staying in the surrounding rooms. Freya smirked in response before drawing in a deep breath, it did nothing to cool his rising lust as his eyes fell onto her chest as it rose and fell. His eyes snapped up to hers as she spoke again.

"This is ridiculous. Think about it Thorin. Does anyone know you are here?" She asked in a valiant attempt to return to logic and making heroic efforts to control her own rising temper.

"No, I told no one, of course!" He replied incredulously not seeing where this was going.

"Then if I wanted to control you and the throne of Erebor as you appear to believe, do you not think that I would simply complete whatever spell or enchantment you think I am casting and seduce you now? Away from prying eyes where I could make you mine and control you secretly?" Thorin was nonplussed, he had not really thought about it that way.

Of course, he had thought about what might happen, alone in her room…. A part of him, one that was usually under tight control and buried deep within him almost wanted it to happen. But he had not really thought about it in these terms; that by going to her would give her the opportunity she had been waiting for. Allowing her to seduce him might be how the sorceress might control him. He backed away from her, thinking to get some distance between them, but stopped as she stepped forwards, her hips swaying slightly in a way that made the fire in his veins burn hotter. He swallowed hard.

"If I wanted to control your mind and your kingdom, Thorin Oakenshield, would I have waited this long with your room a mere two doors away? You would not stand a chance." She said dangerously getting closer to him and breathing heavily. "But I tell you again, the only thing that can control minds and emotions to that extent is the One Ring, and that is long lost. It alone was the only power in this world that can create an obsession and lust you speak of… You may want to deny what you felt, may not want to think about what you were about to do before we went to save Bilbo from those trolls. But I think about it. Often." She paused there a frown creeping onto her fine features "And I cannot believe I let such a stubborn and foolhardy dwarf who clearly has some sort of death wish and an inability to feel any emotion other than anger get so close to me." She concluded scornfully her anger growing again.

"I do not believe you." Thorin continued to deny as Freya huffed in frustration.

"Believe me, or don't believe me. I care not Thorin Oakenshield! But I cannot help you in this matter."

She turned away from him for emphasis heading back into her room and leaving him behind her near the open doors to the balcony. She did not feel the confidence and supreme disinterest that she feigned. In reality the crushing sensation like all the gravity in Arda was crushing her had turned into absolute pain. His words were like daggers in her heart and she did not know whether to give him another piece of her mind or slap him.

How could he be so insulting? To confess his feelings but tell her that this was against his will and better judgement? True she had had admirers before that she had rejected, but had never been on the receiving end of a rejection before and it was crushing. Suddenly she felt a pang of sympathy for Lindir and resolved that the following morning she would go and actually try to repair their friendship rather than childishly avoiding him.

She stopped short before she had gone more than a few steps as she felt Thorin's hand shoot out and grab her wrist, turning her to face him then holding her in place. As she turned Freya gave him a scornful look, he looked angry and she met his anger with her continued scorn.

They stared at each other for a few moments the distance between them so tiny that they could feel the heat and anger radiating off each other in waves. Their stares were intense, sapphire blue meeting stormy grey. Her pride may be wounded, but she would not allow the exiled dwarf king to intimidate her, she could not give him what he wanted and therefore there was no room for negotiation.

Besides which there was very little she could do to maintain what was left of her shattered pride except hold her ground. Thorin closed what little distance there was, breathing hard. She did not back away, something had stirred within her in her anger and she stood firm and resolute, her expression defiant as she met his gaze.

Suddenly his lips crushed against hers and her breath caught. She was still hurt and conflicted, but his lips were all she could think about and the anger was starting to melt away. His lips pressed against hers harder and she responded relaxing into the kiss and letting out a soft sigh. His tongue glided along her lip, begging entrance to her mouth and she hungrily obliged.

He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer to him with a hand against her lower back, pressing his hunger and growing need against her. His short beard tickled her face where it touched her, it was surprisingly soft and the sensation was pleasant. His lips too were surprisingly soft and his tongue tasted of the brandy that they had been drinking moments ago. Freya felt that the brandy was not only thing that had her so intoxicated. She simply could not get enough of him and judging by the way he hungrily returned her kiss she knew the feeling was mutual.

She broke the kiss reluctantly. Nobody had ever kissed her like that before. But she was not that type of woman, so why would they? As he pulled away from her, the lustful fog in her mind lifted and Freya's anger returned. Whether she was angrier at him for kissing her in the first place after such an offensive confession, or for stopping she did not know.

Freya snapped then in an instant, slapping the dwarf king in the face glaring at him. Her body was taught as a bow string while she attempted to browbeat her brain into working again so that she was ready to defended herself against any insult he might throw at her next.

She was taken by surprise when Thorin let out an almost feral growl and pressed himself against her again. He pushed her into the nearby wall and knocking the breath from her momentarily, pressing his lips against hers again in another passionate kiss. But the most surprising thing to Freya, that she would later not be able to understand was the way that she hungrily responded again despite her hurt and anger.

As their tongues danced together, Freya reached up, her fingers twining themselves in his silky hair. Thorin's hands found their way onto on her hips and he ground his own hips into her so that she could feel his need against her. Freya felt her knees go slightly weak at this, her mind going blank and all sensations leaving her except the feeling of their kiss and the hardness of Thorin's engorged member pressing into her thighs.

They broke apart again reluctantly when they heard a door closing in the corridor outside, it sounded as though it had come from Gandalf's room. They did not hear footsteps so Freya assumed that he had been returning to his room. She looked away from Thorin, feeling that if she did not stop now, she would not be able to.

Her mind started working now at a rapid pace and despite her body telling her to continue, that she needed this, her mind overruled it. Seducing Thorin now would only confirm all his fears about her intentions. More than that however, she was still angry. How dare he come and insult her, tell her that he felt something against his will and demand she remove some nonexistent spell and then have the gall to kiss her like that.

She was suddenly ashamed of the wantonness of her kiss. She may have been old, but she had never lain with a man before and had never wanted to. While she knew she felt something for Thorin she did not want her first time to be some angry fling that was more about getting the tension out of her system than it was a mutual physical expression of love. She was sure if anything happened now, it would only be that for Thorin, a release but meaning little else.

"Go." She said not looking at the exiled king before her. It was not a request, it was a command, and she put a little power behind it so that he would feel know her sincerity. He stared at her a moment still close to her. As he stepped away she felt cold and sad for the loss of his proximity, but in her head and her aching heart she knew this was right.

"Lord Elrond tells me that your arm is healed. We have some decisions we need to make as a company and I would be obliged if you could join us in the training ring tomorrow after breakfast." he said returning to his usual commanding and abrupt nature, though the way he had said obliged had been dripping with sarcasm. She nodded, still not looking him in the eye and breathing heavily. In her peripheral vision she could see him spinning on his heel stalking from the room, slamming the door behind him.

The slam of the door made Freya wince and had it not been for her logic returning she would have thrown the priceless and ancient crystal goblet at his retreating back but she refrained. Instead she settled for throwing a freezing spell at the door that smacked against it satisfyingly and froze it shut in case he should decide to return.

There would be no way Gandalf had not heard the door slam and the strange sound of her magic hitting the door, in fact she would be surprised if most of the rest of the company did not hear it. She took another breath steeling herself again as Gandalf's consciousness tentatively brushed against hers.

"Not now. Please my friend… I am sorry." She could not help the melancholy that seeped unwillingly into the communication. She felt his concern in return but he withdrew all the same, respecting her request.

Freya moved over to the bed and sunk down slowly, touching her lips with her fingers noting that they were still slightly swollen due to the passion and urgency of his kiss. His lips were all she could think about for a moment. She had been able to taste the brandy on his lips as they kissed, and had been awash with that smell that was uniquely him. The bereft feeling of his sculpted body no longer pressed against her left her feeling empty. She had never felt so alone since the day she had run away from her family. Freya's fragile ego was shattered by Thorin's confession, rejection and his later lustful advances. She should have been happy that her feelings were reciprocated, but given the nature of Thorin's confession and advances she felt only wounded pride and shame at her own actions.

She broke then and wept bitter tears, tears that she had been holding back since his first accusation now flowing at last down her cheeks as she sobbed alone in her room, the world no longer making sense and her future still hanging precariously in the balance.