A/N: As promised, here is the second half of kkolmakov's guest chapter. Stop by and check out the really awesome hobbit fiction she has going on. Don't forget, I'll have a new Broom chappie up Thursday!

Written by kkolmakov

And then a couple voices came from behind it, and he found himself with the healer as much as wrapped around him. He opened his mouth to ask what in Mahal's name she was doing, but she pressed her hand across his mouth. What was the woman thinking? They needed to call for help instead of keeping quiet. The Hobbit probably pushed a chair under the door handle or something of the sort. It would be easy to let them out, and he honestly didn't want to thank Lord Elrond for his hospitality by breaking door and furniture in his house.

And then he fully realised the position their bodies were in. She had one of her hands wrapped around his wrist, another palm was pressed to his lips, and her nose was as much as brushing to his. He saw the dilated pupils, her strange fire opal coloured eyes in front of him, and with their eyes locked they stood for a few instants.

One of them surely should have moved, they probably looked rather ridiculous at that moment. She didn't have to cover his mouth, he was hardly capable of pronouncing anything, not with the roaring of blood in his ears. And she could have released his wrist as well. Opening that door was the last of the things he would prefer to do with his hands at the moment.

The fingers twitched on his cheek, and she was slowly moving the hand away. The tips of the fingers brushed his beard, and he felt some sort of shiver run down his spine.

He had two choices now. He could let her move away. One last sane thought was thrashing in his mind that it would be an appropriate thing to do. His head felt hazed, but something about propriety, and manners, and honour was there, but he had just felt her palm on his lips, and these strange thoughts about her hands were visiting him even in his dreams, and he would not ever be able to even think back at those dreams. Beryl Baggins might have been right, whatever he thought of himself, the reflexes and instincts were none of an old man.

The second choice was easier and seemed significantly more pleasant. Wrap his arm around the healer's miniscule waist, pull her to him, and finally rid himself of these obsessive images. He was certain the reality would be so much more satisfying than his fantasies.

"Oh Maiar," the healer breathed out, "And I thought the ears were bad..."

Thorin did not get a chance to question this vague statement when the healer pressed both her palms to his cheek, quite obviously fondling his beard.

And then she blinked and her eyes lost the dazed expression. She clearly just realised what she was doing. The fingers that were previously curled into his whiskers twitched.

"Oh no..." Her voice was terrified, but the tantalising lips were rounded with a long exhale in the last sound, and that was the end of Thorin Oakenshield's restrain.

"Oh yes," he affirmed and pulled her into a kiss.

…..

If ever asked, he would not be able to tell how long it was until they finally slowed down. It started with a gasp from her, then they quite quickly understood the other one seemed just as hungry for more, and hands wandered, hair and clothes were pulled at, and then she twisted from under his greedy mouth and placed a row of small bites along his jaw. He heard his own loud growl, and he pushed her into the nearest wall. She made a happy little sound, the graceful arms went around his neck, and she attacked his lips with doubled fervour. And then he was the one pushed into the wall, and a glimpse of surprised galloped through his mind. She surely didn't look that strong, but maybe he was just very, very compliant…

She was the one to return to her senses first. The strong hands grabbed his ears, he couldn't say he minded, it reminded him of the post warg incident, but then she gently pulled his away. He snarled at her, he had not had his fill yet, but she was saying something, and he tried to concentrate.

"We should stop… We are in a closet..." He sincerely was trying to focus on anything but her swollen lips and brilliant eyes, but on the other hand, why would he?

"Perfect place for this..." He had his arms tightly wrapped around her, and suddenly she laughed loudly.

"We can be discovered any moment." He was starting to see that she was not playing coy, and he sighed. He surely wasn't done, and he also suddenly worried that it would be a single happenstance, and to test his theory he leaned in watching her face carefully from under his lids. The lashes fluttered, he felt the arms tighten around him, and she readily moved into a kiss. Perhaps, Beryl Baggins wasn't that wrong.

…...

Thorin's hands lay on the delicate jaw, his fingers under little ears, pink from the burning her had just felt under his lips, and he tenderly moved her away from his face and brushed his thumbs at the corners of her lips. She was panting and staring at him like at a diamond vein.

"Wren..." Something about saying her name scraped at his mind, something she had been distressed about before, but she seemed quite content with it now, and he enjoyed pronouncing it. He smiled to her. "I think there is a wedge under the door." She blinked several times, and something akin disappointment coloured her features. He quickly asked himself if she expected him to say something else. Apparently, since she started moving away from him, and the smile was gone.

"You should take it out," she mumbled, and the hands that were on his shoulders were sliding off as well now, and he grabbed her around her middle and jerked towards him.

Talking, the situation clearly required talking from him, but for the life of him, he knew not what he was supposed to say. Everything was clear to him. He loved her, she seemed equally enthused just a few moments ago. They had a quest before them, but if it were to end safely for both of them, she would be his, and he would be hers, and he surely didn't see anything complicated about it. But they clearly spoke different languages, and she had some strange ideas of her own, and he felt greedy to know what was going on in her head and irritated by her mind at the same time. He might not have been perceptive enough to even start understanding her, but he could see there was a lot to understand.

"Wren, we should talk..." He started, and honestly speaking, he had nothing to add to this, but thankfully that was enough. She was indeed a chatty one.

"We should!" She confirmed with a nod, but then the nose started twitching again. "But I do not want to… And I'm fearful… And kissing is so much easier..." She mumbled and suddenly rushed into his embrace and pressed her temple to his. "I don't want to know… And I do… But it is easier now until we discuss everything, and there are all those reasons why I am not good enough… And how you think it was a mistake... And Beryl was saying all those preposterous things… And the beard..." She seemingly got tangled into her own wordiness and quieted down, pressing into him. Her body was tense like a bow string, and he suddenly felt merry and at ease.

He stroked the back of her head in a comforting gesture. Silly woman, what had she been imagining in that giant head of hers? He felt thick silky curls under his palm, and then he slightly moved away and pressed his lips to her temple. She happily squinted like a cat.

"I think out of us all here Beryl Baggins might be the smartest," he jested and placed another kiss, this time closer to her ear.

"I was hiding here from her pestering me about you." The healer's voice was small and distressed, but she was not moving away, which seemed very promising to him. "I have told her of the warg fight… And apparently I have disclosed something when signing the contract, after ale..." That was interesting. Had she felt something for him then already? Thorin carefully moved her away from him and peered into her face. She had already realised she had spoken too much, and her eyes were shifting guiltily. "Maiar, help me, you affect me worse than brew..." She sounded sincerely upset, and he cupped her face.

"I am no less affected, Wren," he spoke tenderly.

"You are a Dwarf! Your race can outdrink anybody!" She gave him a disbelieving look, and he guffawed.

"I am in love, you nonsensical woman." She gaped at him, and he just let her gather her thoughts. After all, direct path was the shortest. Two blinks and a strange squeak somewhere in her throat later, she smiled to him widely and grabbed his ears. Apparently, that was now a common practice. He didn't mind at all.

"And I am with you," she announced gleefully, and he decided that was very much enough talking.

…..

They were released out of their prison half an hour later by a courtier who opened a door upon hearing yet another broom being toppled over to the floor. They fell out into the passage, in a tanglement of limbs, since they had not even heard the door being open, and he had been leaning on it, while the healer was nibbling on his ear, and his hands were splayed on her perky backside. The Elf gaped at them, with his mouth half open ungracefully, and then with a hurried bow he disappeared in a side passage.

"Hm, I am not even embarrassed," his healer made an observation, and he laughed and pulled her to him. "I am too happy for it." She added, smiling to him blissfully. He pecked her lips and pressed his forehead to hers. So, he had been right, it was that simple.

"One thing though," she said after tearing her lips from his. He saw her frown and cocked a brow. "The Hobbit has to pay." There was some dangerous light in the healer's eyes, and Thorin felt even more enamoured. What a woman! Their eyes met, and he smirked to her.

"Fili?" He asked, giving her a meaningful look.

"Oh yeah. And no cozy closets for them. A barrel perhaps?"