A/N: Wow, new chapter - and you didn't have to wait six months!

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and for welcoming me back. I love reading your comments and I'm so pleased that so many of you are fond of this story. I'm ripping along at the moment and I'm already halfway through the next chapter, so I'm taking advantage before I get bogged down in real life again.

As usual, I own nothing but if I did, I'd be enjoying life in Erebor as his queen, as he should be!

Chapter 25

Thorin's wooing of Bella began in earnest after the dinner at Bag End.

The flowers continued arriving each morning, much to Bella's secret delight, and each one seemed to carry a more ardent meaning than the last. They all proclaimed Thorin's hope, devotion, and steadfast love.

Somehow, he always seemed to appear at the market when she was there and would carry her basket around the stalls. He would buy little treats that Primula had told him Bella liked and most times found them sitting at one of the benches outside the Green Dragon eating and enjoying a refreshing drink.

Once, after Bella had returned home, she had emptied her basket and found a dozen ribbons, in various colours, wrapped around a yellow rose bud, which signified affection. When had he put that in there? The smile he gave her when he saw her wearing one in her hair the next day had sent a rush of longing through her.

As yet, Thorin had made no attempt to touch her other than kissing her hand and almost always after seeking her consent. A number of times, he had moved as if to take her hand or touch her before he would remember himself, and pull back.

His restraint and obvious desire to respect her boundaries, despite the yearning he could not hide, made Bella both grateful and extremely frustrated and she hated herself for it.

She wanted nothing more than to drag him into Bag End, divest both of their clothing and make love with him for hours, days or even weeks and yet, she couldn't let go of the lingering fear of the gold-sickness returning, and with it the possibility of violence, despite his certainty that he would never let it affect him again.

Here, in Hobbiton, there was no gold to test his resolve but what if she did return with him to Erebor? Could she take that risk? That question led her mind to the option of staying here, with him, but then would she feel the guilt of making him give up his birthright?

Bella felt like she was going around in circles with no resolution within her grasp.

Spring had taken a strong grip on the Shire, and with it came the planning and preparation for the annual party to celebrate the end of the cold winter and to ask Yavanna for her blessings for a good harvest this year. It was held down by the party tree and hobbits from all the surrounding villages came to enjoy the food, wine and revelry of the occasion. There was usually dancing until all hours of the night and many a hobbit had woken up to find themselves amongst the flowers and shrubs of someone's garden.

With a month to go before the party, Bella got a visit from Lily Cotton, who led the Committee which organised the party and was asked to donate a number of dishes for the feast. This was the usual practice as every household contributed in some way; whether it be by cooking, preparing drinks, setting up and decorating or helping on the night.

Bella had missed last year's celebration so readily volunteered to bake a number of treats. As she made a list of what she would need, her mind wandered to Thorin.

Would he attend the party? She had no doubt the other dwarves would have a grand time – after all, hobbits did know how to party – but would he join in? Would he dance? Would she dance with him? If she didn't, would he dance with others? How would she feel about that?

She shook the thought away. It was too far away to worry about yet. Instead, she decided to make some fruit tarts to give to the dwarves. Thorin had devoured the pear tart she had made when they had dinner at Bag End, his eyes closing in rapture as he took the first bite.

Bella had felt her temperature rise at the look on his face. He had a similar expression whenever he would first take her as they made love and she had had to hurriedly excuse herself on the pretext of needing to get something from the kitchen. There, she had agitatedly fanned herself with a tea towel before walking back to the dining room where a chorus of compliments had washed over her.

The dinner had been so much fun and Bella hadn't realised how long it had been since she'd had such a good time. The first dinner didn't count as she'd been too stressed over having her home invaded by strange dwarves to enjoy any of it. Much of the journey had been spent desperately trying to stay alive to consider it fun. There had been good moments, especially in Laketown, but none of it had been the rollicking, laughter-filled, joyous occasion of that night.

At first, Bella had been puzzled at the somewhat stilted and wooden behaviour of the dwarves, particularly the young ones. She had been expecting them to dive into the food in the manner she had become used to but instead, they had been so unnaturally polite that she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake. When Dwalin had picked up his cutlery and had asked Bifur to pass the potatoes, Bella couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"What is the matter with you all?" she had asked, her brow furrowed in bafflement.

"What do you mean?" replied Thorin, his eyes scanning the table to see what misdemeanour his company had committed.

"This!" She waved to the dwarves holding knives and forks as delicately as they could. "What is with the 'pleases' and 'thank-yous'? Since when do you have table manners? I'm beginning to think I'm dining with elves. It's…it's…unnatural!"

As one, all the dwarves looked at Thorin, who looked down at his plate in abashment.

"Uncle said we were to be on our best behaviour," spoke Kili, looking at Thorin reproachfully.

"Why ever for?" asked Bella.

"I wanted to show you that dwarves are as capable of having manners as any race," he admitted. "And I didn't want a repeat of what happened last time."

Bella just stared at him in bemusement for a moment. "I spent nearly a year in your company. There's really not much that can shock me about dwarven behaviour anymore. For goodness' sake, just be yourselves! I want you all to enjoy our time tonight. Yes," she looked at Fili when she spoke. "I would prefer that you didn't walk all over my table covered with food – and I can do without a food fight – but, please, can we have some fun?"

A loud 'whoop' from the dwarves signalled a return to their customary behaviour and from then on there was a lot of rowdy talk and laughter. But no food fights. Bella watched Thorin smirk and shake his head at some of the bawdy jokes told by Bofur and the high-spirited antics of his nephews. This time, when they cleaned up, she sat back and watched in amusement. In the parlour, Bofur took out his fiddle and it wasn't long before Bag End was filled with singing, both dwarven and hobbit songs.

Bella was smiling, remembering that night, as she packed the four tarts she had spent the morning baking into a basket in order to take them to the forge. She had included two strawberry tarts for the younger dwarves, and, if she had especially laboured over the pear tarts, well, no one need know.

And if she were wearing a pretty dress and had threaded one of the ribbons Thorin had given her into her hair, well, it didn't signify anything, either.

Making her way down the myriad pathways of Hobbiton, greeting her neighbours as they passed, Bella turned her face up to enjoy the sun's rays. For spring, it was quite warm, but it served to bathe the village in a golden glow that made the colours of the flowers seem that much more vibrant.

It was the first time Bella had visited the forge since the dwarves moved in. She was a little nervous as all her interactions with Thorin had been either in the open or with others. Even when he carried her groceries, he usually just put the basket in her pantry and left. Now, she was going to enter his domain and she didn't know if he would be alone or not.

Come on, Bella, she admonished herself. You've faced down giant spiders, orcs and goblins. This is only Thorin. He won't hurt you. You know he wouldn't hurt you.

The old forge was built differently to the usual hobbit-holes found in Hobbiton. Due to the nature of its purpose, it was a free-standing building, similar to the Green Dragon but on a smaller scale. One side of the building had double doors that opened out from the forge itself while the opposite had a normal door that led directly to the living areas. It allowed the occupants to come and go without having to go through the forge itself.

Bella could see smoke coming from the chimney over the forge indicating that one of the dwarves was working. Logic told her that it was most likely Thorin. There didn't seem to be any sign of the other dwarves around, so she squared her shoulders and walked towards the open double doors…

…And had the wind completely knocked out of her by the sight she was confronted with.

Thorin was standing at the large anvil, his back slightly towards her. Even from the doorway, she could feel the heat in the room and so it seemed, could he, as he had taken off his shirt and wore only his black breeches and a leather blacksmith's apron that covered much of his chest.

The muscles in his back rippled enticingly as he bent forward slightly, the smooth ridge of his spine covered in a fine layer of sweat. He had tied his hair back with a strip of leather but one of his temple braids had escaped and was swinging against his muscular, lightly furred chest with each movement.

Oh Aule! The heat from the furnace was nothing to the heat that raced through her body at the sight of Thorin. She had seen him in various guises, from the weary traveller in borrowed clothes to the monarch wearing the richly appointed trappings of a king, but she had never seen this.

Thorin, the blacksmith.

The rush of lust struck her like a bolt of thunder and she actually felt her knees weaken. When he raised one arm in order to hammer the metal lying on the anvil, the bulge of muscles brought back the memories of those same arms lifting her up as he carried her to bed and she unthinkingly took a step to the side, feeling as if her legs were going to give way.

She accidently brushed against a garden implement that was propped up by the wall, sending it crashing down, the noise startling both of them, causing Thorin to strike metal incorrectly and bend it out of shape.

To her horror, he released a loud curse in Khuzdul. "I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF THE FORGE TODAY! WHEN WILL YOU EVER LISTEN!" He took a step in her direction as he yelled, the hammer still in his hand.

All desire fled as terror invaded her senses, releasing a whimper as she dropped the basket and sank down into herself.

She didn't see Thorin turn his head, the realisation of who had actually startled him striking him as that he let out another curse, all colour leaching from his face.

The day had not started well.

It had been months since Thorin had had one of his headaches, but this morning, he awoke to the thumping inside his head. He lay still for a while, disappointed he couldn't leave any flowers on Bella's doorstep and hoping it would subside on its own, but, in the end, he had to reach for a packet of Oin's herbs to make the medicinal tea that he had taken to ease his pain when he was recovering from his injuries.

The chatter from the dwarves as they arose and had breakfast only exacerbated the throbbing and he had yelled at them to be quiet while he waited for the tea to kick in.

Finally, after what seemed an age, the headache subsided until there was only the lingering sensitivity that came afterwards. He wanted to see Bella today but first he had to finish an order that was going to be a betrothal gift and was required the next morning. Wishing it was he who was giving Bella a betrothal gift didn't improve his mood.

He was preparing to go into the forge to get started, his nephew's voices in the background, when there was a pre-emptory knock on the door to the living areas. Most hobbits who engaged his services came directly to the forge, so he was puzzled as to whom the caller was.

On the doorstep was an older hobbit, his curly hair greying with age and his portly body evidence of his love of good food.

"Yes?" barked Thorin. The hobbit quaked a little at the dwarf's tone but squared his shoulders as if to prepare for battle.

"Y…your majesty," he began. "I have come on a serious matter that involves one of your fellow dwarves." He bravely withstood Thorin's piercing stare.

"What matter? And which dwarf?" snapped Thorin.

"The matter of one of your dwarves acting inappropriately with my daughter!" came the reply.

"What! What do you mean?"

"That young dwarf, Kili, I believe his name is, was seen kissing my daughter behind some hedgerows near the paddock you are using for 'training'," the hobbit replied indignantly. "Now, I don't know what you consider proper in your home, but I object to having my daughter become the object of gossip due to the lack of propriety shown by one of your company!"

Thorin could feel the headache starting to make inroads again, making holding on to his temper harder and harder.

"KILI!"

"Yes, uncle?" came the puzzled reply. Kili appeared next to the open door and peered out at their visitor.

"Master…?"

"Bolger, sir. Bodo Bolger," answered the hobbit.

"Master Bolger here has levelled a charge against you. He is accusing you of acting inappropriately with this daughter," snapped Thorin, his head starting to pound again. "Is this true?"

Kili's face flushed as he looked down and nervously shuffled his feet.

"Well?"

"Ah…um…well…the thing is," stammered Kili, more afraid of his uncle's temper than the angry father at the door. "I'm…I'm not entirely…sure…who your daughter…is."

There was indignation on the hobbit's face but that was nothing to the thunderous expression on Thorin's face.

"Just how many lasses have you been gallivanting with that you don't know which one is Master Bolger's daughter?" growled Thorin.

"My daughter is Dora Bolger, you…you…," spluttered the furious father.

Kili's face lit in recognition at the name. "Oh! Oh yes, Dora."

"Yes, Dora," spat Master Bolger. "I want you to stay away from her. She is not even of age yet. How dare you place her in a compromising position!"

"But...but…she wanted me to kiss her!" argued Kili, wincing when he felt Thorin's hand come down hard on his shoulder. The hobbit seethed and if tempers hadn't been so high, his red face would have been comical.

"Be that as it may," interrupted Thorin. "You should know better than to dally with young lasses." His glare was murderous. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the father. "Master Bolger, I apologise for my nephew's behaviour towards your daughter. It won't happen again. Will it, Kili?" he snarled.

"N…no, uncle," came the uneasy reply.

"I want you to apologise to Master Bolger and in recompense, you will carry out whatever chores he requires you to complete for him for the next week. Will that suffice, Master Bolger?"

The hobbit had clearly not been anticipating that for he took a step back in surprise. "Um…well…yes…I suppose so."

"Good. Kili will report to your home tomorrow morning and he will behave properly towards your daughter from now on."

Kili opened his mouth to protest at his punishment but Thorin's hand squeezed his shoulder in warning so he just stared sullenly at the ground.

After the hobbit bowed and hurriedly left, Thorin slammed the door shut and pushed Kili down into a chair. Fili, who had been watching the proceedings, gave his brother a sympathetic smile.

"Really? Behind hedgerows as if you were tumbling a bar wench?" roared Thorin, glaring at his nephew.

"It was just kissing," argued Kili sullenly in his defence.

"And how many young hobbit lasses have you been indiscriminately kissing that you did not know who Master Bolger was referring to?"

Kili looked at his brother, who hastily wiped the grin off his face when Thorin turned to glare at Fili. "Um…a…few?" he admitted cagily. "But uncle, the girls practically throw themselves at us. Sometimes, they get me off guard."

"I don't care if they strip naked in front of you! While we are in Bella's home, you will behave with decorum. Many of those lasses are related to her and I will not have her upset by your behaviour!" he yelled.

"You must have kissed other females before you met Bella!" countered Kili.

"Ki…" warned Fili.

Thorin whirled around and thrust his face into his nephew's. "That is none of your business! And if I did, I, at least, showed some discretion and did not get caught and berated by angry fathers!"

"Thorin…" interjected Fili carefully. "He had never been kissed before we got here and it went to his head…a little."

Thorin backed off a little, moving to fill a glass with water. The liquid cooled his temper slightly but the headache was still there.

"We will talk about this later," he declared, his voice more even. "I understand you are very young, Kili, and interactions with females are an exciting, new thing for you, but you cannot behave in a manner that will besmirch their reputation and leave you open to criticism or worse." At Kili's small nod, he turned towards the forge. "Go now. I have work to do. Do not come near the forge today, Kili, as I am still angry at the embarrassment this has caused me and I fear I will lose it completely before I have had the chance to calm down."

At the reprieve, both the dwarves hastily exited the house, not daring to argue.

Thorin's temper was still simmering as he worked on the betrothal gift, a new metal garden bench. He was more angry at the embarrassment of being caught off guard by the hobbit. He was so wrapped up in wooing Bella, that he hadn't been taking note of his nephew's behaviour.

In truth, he couldn't place all blame on Kili. He had seen the virtual harem of young hobbit lasses that followed the boys around. And Kili, being a normal, healthy, young male, would naturally want to avail himself of what was on offer. It was just that he needed to learn discretion and what was and was not acceptable in his dealings with the opposite sex. Before things went further than just kissing.

It would be hypocritical of him to expect Fili or Kili to remain chaste until they found their One, but they needed to learn just where to get that experience, and it wasn't with innocent young hobbit lasses that had protective fathers. Or were related in some way to Bella. This kind of talk would normally have fallen to the boys' father, but, as the closest thing to a father they had, unfortunately it fell to him.

Attempting to put it out of his mind for the time being, he concentrated on the complicated filigree work he was struggling to get right, his headache finally subsiding to a manageable level. He had taken off his shirt as he was not working near the fire, where embers could burn his skin, trying to unsuccessfully cool down and was about to strike the metal when the sound of falling objects startled him and the hammer stuck the wrong part, bending it in the wrong direction.

"RUKHSUL MENU!" he swore loudly. "I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF THE FORGE TODAY! WHEN WILL YOU EVER LISTEN!"

He turned around to tear strips off his nephew, the thought that it wasn't Kili not even occurring to him and the sight that met him made him drop the hammer and his heart to plummet.

Oh Mahal!

Bella was crouched down by the wall, curled tightly into herself as if to ward off an attack, surrounded by the downed garden implements and a basket that was tipped on its side. She was whimpering in fear.

Curse my temper, thought Thorin as he knelt down in front of her, longing to scoop her up into his arms and comfort her. Of course, he was the one that did this, even if only inadvertently, and he had to fix it.

"Bella?" he spoke softly, as if speaking to a frightened animal. "Bella, it's alright. Forgive my temper. I won't hurt you, ever." He reached out hesitantly and brushed his hand gently over her curls, not wanting to startle her. "I didn't know it was you. I thought it was Kili. Please Bella, you are safe." His voice cracked a little on the final word.

Safe. She still didn't feel safe around him and it hurt to his very core. He had been making so much progress, they had become friends again and though he ached to hold her, he never touched her without permission and now this. Dwalin had said his temper would be his downfall one day.

As she didn't move when he stroked her hair, he kept up the soothing motion while continuing to murmur softly until, finally, she raised her face, tear tracks marring the smooth skin.

Thorin smiled tenderly at her and slowly moved his hand to her shoulder, lightly rubbing it through the material of her shirt. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't realise it was you."

Bella took a shuddering breath. "I know," she whispered.

She looked so sad that Thorin couldn't help himself. He raised his other hand and with the utmost care, lest she pull away sharply, he drew her towards him and enfolded her in his arms, needing to comfort her. He forgot that he was only wearing his leather apron, was sweaty and probably smelled like an orc's breakfast. He just needed her in his arms.

Stiffening slightly in response to his actions, nevertheless, Bella allowed herself to be held in his strong arms, breathing a little sigh of pleasure when she was rested fully against his chest, the leather warm against her cheek.

Thorin closed his eyes and laid his cheek on her hair, inhaling her precious scent. It felt beyond wonderful to hold her again, even if he regretted the circumstances that led them here. He was careful not to hold her too tightly, just enough to be able to feel her against him.

For a long while they remained like that, kneeling on the floor of the forge, heedless of everything around them.

Finally, to Thorin's regret, Bella pulled away. His arms dropped away hastily, already missing the feel of her. She sat back on her haunches as she rubbed her face dry of any remaining tears.

Realising that sitting on the floor was probably not the most comfortable thing to do, Thorin made to stand up and spotted the contents of the basket half tipped out. He moved to put it back in when Bella's hands reached it first.

"My pies! I hope they're not all ruined," she sighed. "I made them for you all."

Thorin smiled and righted the basket. "It matters not if they are. I'm certain they will still taste wonderful and I can assure you that a little bit of dirt will not put us off eating them." Luckily, the top two pies were only cracked and would be fine to eat, Thorin noted as he helped her place them back in the basket.

"Come, let us go into the kitchen, away from this heat," he urged, taking her hand to help her up and picking up the basket with the other. "Just let me put the guard on the fire first." He took the opportunity to put his tunic back on as well.

Bella still looked a little wary, so he spoke softly as he led her through to the living areas. "It's not large, but it serves its purpose," remarked Thorin as he placed the basket on the table and pulled out a chair for her.

"It's a far cry from Erebor's kitchens, I assume," she replied, shaking her head to his offer of a drink.

"Certainly, but I know where I'd rather be," came the reply.

There was a long awkward silence after that, until Thorin took it upon himself to initiate the discussion about what had happened in the forge.

"Bella, I'm so sorry I frightened you again," he began. "I truly did think it was Kili and as I had told him not to come into the forge, my temper got the better of me."

Bella nodded. "I know, Thorin. I do know this and I'm sorry I over-reacted like that."

"No," disagreed Thorin. "You only reacted that way due to my actions in the past. I put that fear into you and it grieves me deeply that you don't feel safe with me. I had hoped that I had come some way to proving that you have no need to fear me, but it seems that hope was misplaced," he said sadly.

Without thought, Bella reached out and placed her hand on his, squeezing lightly. "I know you have, Thorin. And my head tells me that I know you won't hurt me again but I reacted instinctively when you shouted at me. It put me to mind of that day…"

Thorin rubbed his forehead with his free hand, not willing to lose Bella's touch for anything. "I know," he sighed. "I wish there was some way to prove to you that it will never happen again, that it was an aberration and that you can trust me."

"So do I," replied Bella. "Your temper frightened me."

Turning his hand over, and taking hold of hers, he looked earnestly into her eyes. "Bella, I know I have a nasty temper at times. In the past my rage and anger at all the sorrows and injustices my people and I suffered at the hands of others fuelled my temper. There were times when I regretted what I had said and done after I had calmed down but I can swear on the lives of my nephews, that never once did I show violence towards my family or any female due to that anger. A number of items have been broken as well as some of the bones in my hand, but never through hurting a woman."

"Except me," pointed out Bella.

Dropping his head in shame, Thorin agreed. "Except you." Neither spoke for a moment. "Bella, I still have a temper. Dwalin pointed out the damage it could cause and I have striven to control it and only direct it where deserved. The anger and rage I had has gone but I am not perfect. I am trying the best I can, but I will still lose it at times, like today, and will make mistakes in future. I can promise, that though I may yell or curse, never again will I raise my hands in anger towards you"

"Unless the gold sickness strikes again," she pointed out.

"That won't happen ever again," he swore earnestly. "It will never take me again. I know this."

Bella sighed. "I wish I was as certain."

"Then I will stay in Hobbiton, with you, if you cannot ever trust me around Erebor's gold again. If that will ease your fears, then I am willing to do it. You know I am," he stated gravely, his eyes imploring her to believe him.

There was silence as Bella mulled over his words before speaking. "I need to go."

Thorin's heart plummeted at her words. Once again, he had ruined their fragile relationship, even if it was unintentional. If only there was a way to show her that she had no need to fear him but how? Trust could not be forced, it had to develop naturally and right now, Bella didn't trust him. And why would she? He deserved nothing less.

About to sink into despair at the realisation that all his efforts now seemed in vain, he almost missed her next words.

"Will you walk me home?"

His head shot up. She still wanted his company? "Ah…yes…yes, of course!" He stood up with such alacrity that his chair tipped over, the loud clang startling him and inducing a giggle from his beloved hobbit. "Just…just give me moment to clean up?" He pointed to his arms that still sported soot from the forge and he didn't miss the look of hunger that flashed through her eyes as she took in their strength.

Maybe all hope was not yet lost.

Washing as quickly as he could, he donned a clean tunic and brushed his hair before returning to the kitchen. Bella was placing the tarts on the bench and he looked at her properly for the first time today.

She took his breath away. Her rose-tinted dress showed off her figure perfectly and displayed a little more décolletage than normal. He felt his mouth water as he remembered feasting on her luscious breasts. He became aware of the tightening in his breeches and was glad his tunic hid the evidence of his arousal, though if he continued in this vein, even the tunic would be useless.

Dragging his eyes from her chest, he took in her beloved face. His hand itched to touch the smooth skin of her rosy cheeks. And a taste of her plump lips would be like water to a dying man. In deference to the heat, Bella had plaited her hair into one single braid down her back, threading one of his ribbons through it, he noted with pleasure. How he longed to braid her hair and return his silver hair bead to its rightful owner!

As he mused on this delightful thought, his eyes caught sight of two small scars at the back of her neck, visible now with her hair out of the way. With horror, the realisation of how those marks got there struck him.

Oh Mahal! He had put those there. When his nails had dug into the delicate skin in his rage.

Unable to stand, he sunk into the nearest chair, covering his face with trembling hands. The sound alerted Bella to his presence and she rushed to his side, concern lining her face.

"Thorin? Are you well? What's wrong?"

The alarm in her voice gave him no comfort. He didn't deserve her concern, the monster that had marked her like he had. He felt her hand brush soothingly over his hair and shoulder. He was too distressed to note the reversal of roles from a short time ago.

"Thorin, please!" The worry in her voice roused him from the morass of guilt and sorrow that coursed through him and he lifted his face, his eyes tellingly moist. "What is the matter?"

Taking in a deep breath in order to regain his composure, Thorin tried to speak past the lump in his throat. "I…I…noticed…I…Oh, Bella! I'm so sorry!"

"What? I know you didn't mean to scare me…" was the confused reply.

"No, not that." With care not to startle her, he raised his hand and reached up to tenderly stroke the small scars on her neck.

"Oh!" she realised, stepping back from his hand and touching the scars nervously.

"I…I didn't realise. No wonder you fear me, with a permanent reminder of what…I did," he ground out hoarsely. He dropped his face into his hands again and was unable to control the shudder of agony that raced through him.

Then he felt her hand soothe him again and he raised his head to gaze into her eyes, wanting to convey his utter remorse. "It's over now, Thorin. They've healed."

"Have they? Have they really?" he replied.

Bella shrugged and gave him a sad smile.

Standing up, Thorin took hold of her shoulders and gently turned her around so he was behind her. "Forgive me," he whispered as leant down, and tenderly kissed the scars in a display of penitence and regret. "Forgive me for the hurt I've caused you," he murmured against her skin. "Never again."

He felt Bella's swift intake of breath as he touched her skin, the beads in his beard brushing against it and closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against her hair, his whole body alive to the nearness of hers.

The room was fraught with the myriad of emotions of the two occupants and there was naught but silence. Then, as if the moment was too important to ruin with harsh sounds, came the barely audible words.

"I forgive you."

** Rukhsul menu! - You offspring of an orc!

A/N: There had to a slight hiccup along the way, I think. And yes, I had to get my Thorin in a forge fantasy in here somewhere :). Mmmm...a hot, sweaty Thorin... sorry, don't mind me!

Thank you to lizajay12 for proofreading and picking out my mistakes!