Sophia: I'm glad that you liked how he owned up to his mistake - because I did it in the hopes that it would show this Thorin is different from the one she knows. And I have a plan for Azanulbizar - which I actually thought about because you brought it up, so thank you for that - and it will probably be very touching and yet horribly sad at the same time; but that's all I'll say. Also about the name, I quite like that, quite a lot - you'll have to tell me when you make a page :)
Nora woke to the feel of a hand upon her face, warm fingers timidly tracing the planes of her cheek; she did not move, she had thought it was a dream at first, but she lay completely still straining her lungs as she kept even breaths. She did not know what he was thinking, before she would have known he was wondering why he felt as he did, wondering why she was evoking feelings he had not had in over a century – that she was beautiful, that he wished to kiss her; she knew all of this for she had seen it in his eyes. But she did not know the thoughts of this Thorin, he was entirely new to her, and she found herself worried over what he thought of her – her stomach twisting in knots as he continued staring down at her silently before leaving for breakfast.
She released a breath when the door closed, holding a hand to her chest as she breathed normally, her face now flushed as she continued to feel the remnants of his touch. In truth she did not know why she was so flustered, because of his nearness or his obvious curiosity of her, or because her skin knew his touch and craved for things he was nowhere near ready to give. And so she sat burning and agitated willing thoughts of him out of her mind, already hearing his footsteps as he returned with breakfast for her. "Morning," she greeted after he'd closed the door, feeling her stomach clench in hunger at the sight and smell of food.
"Good morning," he said handing her the plate, not considering for a moment she was aware he'd spent several minutes staring down at her; startling when he realized his hand was upon her cheek and leaving in a rush. "I am afraid I have much to plan this day but I will return after supper. I have arranged for lunch to be brought as well as a tub so that you may bathe before I return," he said stoically, keeping his eyes on hers and forcing them not to wander.
She looked up at surprised at the thoughtfulness, food already in her mouth before she nodded. "Thanks," she told him though quite unhappy at the thought of spending the entire day alone in a very empty room.
With furrowed brows he nodded, not understanding her strange manner of speaking – having no idea of where she might hail from – before leaving her. He knew there was little for her to do in the room, knew she would be unbearably bored but he could give her nothing that day – he would need to learn of the things she liked to partake in to see about giving her something to occupy her time; and it was entirely lost on him that he was already thinking of ways to keep her happy so that she would stay.
He was very right, she found herself so bored she nearly pulled her hair out for something to do; and she nearly jumped up at the sound of someone coming to the door hoping it would be Thorin so she could ask him for something – anything at all – to do. But it wasn't, it was a short man with brown hair and strikingly familiar facial features. "Hello," she said when he came in the room, seeing him pause as he stared at her in surprise – obviously startled that there truly was a woman in his prince's room.
He nodded a greeting before placing the tray of food on the table beside her, stealing glances of her to see she was no dwarf and was very young. But Thorin had decided it best if he did not speak to her and so he'd been told to be very brief in anything he said and not to question what she was doing in the room. "Is there anything else I could get you, milady?" he asked her, that being all he knew Thorin wished for him to say; and he wondered how exactly she knew his prince, and in what way for it was appalling that they were sharing the room.
She thought a moment before sitting up. "Do you have any paper and," she paused before she said pen, "something to write with?"
He nodded confused by her words. "I can find you a parchment to make use of," he told her before making for the door, turning back when he remembered to bow before leaving to fetch what she'd asked for. As quickly as he'd come he left her for good, leaving her sitting at Thorin's small desk with the parchment and quill her lunch forgotten, and him quite in need of his brother so that he could tell him the strangeness of what he had just been apart of.
In her excitement to get something to do she had forgotten to consider what she would do with the paper and ink; she'd never been good at drawing and she wouldn't waste the paper – which she'd marveled at the thickness and texture tempted to ask how it was made. And so, as any aspiring anthropologist would do, she listed out the different races she knew and their appearances and strengths and personalities; she spent most of the day thinking of all she could to go with each one, planning and structuring how she would write it all because it was the only paper she had, and so she'd only gotten through the dwarves before night had fallen.
Thorin found her a little while later, his closest friend beside him holding a tray for dinner for both the prince and the woman – Thorin having excused himself on the basis of finishing plans for driving out the creatures that were trying to take the coomb, though in truth he simply wished to speak to Nora; such a strange name it was, though somehow it seemed to suit her. But the sight he was met with when he opened the door was not one he had accounted on finding, and the moment he saw her bare back as she sat in the tub completely unconcerned he closed the door and stood outside of the room.
"Who is she, if I may ask?"
Thorin turned to the dwarf at his side shaking his head. "I don't believe you may," he said sounding very uncertain, hoping she was getting dressed. "It would be best if no one were to know she was here," he said waiting for him nod before taking the tray.
"So she is staying with you then?"
"Yes Balin," Thorin said exasperated, "as soon as I understand it I will explain it to you," he said before entering the room. The tray nearly fell from his hands at the sight of her in a make shift towel standing near the door, her body barely hidden from his eyes and his chest flushed as he turned away from the clearly visible swell of her breasts.
She'd just barely caught sight of the dwarf who'd brought her lunch, his face familiar in a way she couldn't put her finger on – though in all honesty she should have figured it out. "That was Balin?" she asked looking to Thorin wide eyed and amazed.
He kept his eyes trained away from her as he set the tray on the desk, seeing her strange handwriting on the parchment. "Yes it was."
How she wanted to open the door and call him back, though she forced herself to remember he didn't know her any more than Thorin did. "His hair isn't as dark as Dwalin's," she said finding it strange to see him so young when he'd been so white and aged when she'd known him. And he still looked nothing like his brother.
"No it isn't," he said wishing she would dress for his mind was straying to shocking thoughts and he could not think such things of her if they were to be living in such close quarters; and especially not if she still stood behind him half naked. Though his mind finally caught up to what she had said and he turned to her shocked. "You know Balin and Dwalin?"
She realized she probably should have kept that to herself, it would do nothing more than bring about more questions she couldn't answer. "No," she tried very unconvincingly, seeing him give her a look and knowing he hadn't bought it.
"Who else did you know?" he asked wondering how deep in life she had been to have known his two closest friends – the two dwarves he called brother.
That question left her with the same feeling of words being trapped in her throat only she knew he would not stop until he had an answer for other than her knowing him and bearing the sign they were betrothed she had said nothing that gave undeniable proof of her truly having known him in a different time; until now, for she very clearly knew both dwarves without an explanation as to how. And so the only answer was what she had been alluding to all along – that she had in fact come back to an earlier year.
So what was she to say when she couldn't say anything about either of them; a thought came to her, a rather mean one but it was all she could think of. So she opened her mouth to speak, resting her weight on one leg, and allowing the towel to slip as though she lost hold of it – not caring if he saw her breasts, which he very much did before she pulled the cloth back to her chest as though it were entirely by accident. And as she hoped he turned around abruptly, the image of her body now etched behind his eyes, setting every desire in him aflame as he fought to catch his breath. "Dress, now," he ordered feigning calmness. But he was anything but calm; he had never seen an unclothed woman, hadn't kissed a woman before she'd kissed him – she was entirely impossible, reckless and immodest, yet he was so very drawn to her. Be it her having come to him as though stepping from a dream desperate and in love, or her pretty face, or her obviously attractive physique for he had noticed her breasts before this moment, or simply because she was so different from any other woman he had ever met be it dwarf or man. Either way he was completely enchanted. And so when her soft voice said alright he turned to her, surprised at how quickly she'd dressed, to find her in a thin undergown he could see through. "That is not dressed," he said turning once more so his back was to her, hearing her sigh irritably.
"Its close enough," she told him sharply wishing he would just get over it, forgetting that it was entirely indecent for him to be sharing a room with her let alone for her to be half clothed in front of him – and completely naked moments before.
"Where are you from that that is close enough?" he demanded turning to her, catching sight of her skin beneath the fabric before looking away once more.
With a roll of her eyes she stepped into the crimson dress and pulled it up over her hips. "Obviously not from here," she retorted thoughtlessly. It wasn't until her arms were through the sleeves and she was left unable to retie it leaving her to turn to him that she realized what she'd said, for he was staring at her in deep thought hardly caring that the dress was barely hanging on her shoulders.
She'd given away more than she realized, for he had been wondering many times throughout the day and the one before where she came from for she did not behave in any form as though she were from this world – but that had been too unbelievable for him, yet it was now staring him in the face how right had been. "You are not from here," he said softly as he stared hard at her face, as the answers lay beneath her skin.
With an uncomfortable clearing of her throat she shook her head before turning her back to him. "Could you?" she asked motioning to her back before standing still as he tied her dress – feeling his hand on her hip as though he were assuring himself she was real. "I woke up here," she told him, holding her hair off her shoulders as he tied the laces; nearly shivering at the feel of his callous fingers as they brushed against her skin. "Well not here exactly, not," the words left her before she could finish, before she could say not this time for that was apparently too much.
But he understood nonetheless. "And I found you and took you in," he said, seeing in her eyes when she looked at him over her shoulder that it was true. "How did you get here?"
Even if she could speak of the hall there wasn't much she could say. "I don't know," she answered honestly, knowing her next words would change everything – the way he responded to her, the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her. His knowing the circumstance that brought her to his world would tell him why she'd come, and as it had with the Thorin she'd known it would soften him toward her. "I died and woke up in this land," she said, all she had been able to say when the dwarves had asked her when they'd found her – everything important that gave away the truth had been gone from her mind at that time and so she could say anything she pleased. And even now in a different time that bit of information was still speakable.
It left him nearly speechless as he stood at her back, her laces tied but his feet immobile. He turned her to him, staring hard at her face, lifting her chin and forcing her eyes on his. "You were not honest when you said didn't know, I could hear it in your voice," he said softly, his eyes roaming her face as he realized the truth. "You came here for me, everything you have done has been for me." It was so obvious how true that was from the look on her face, from why she had come to him literally from thin air – she had known him years from now and she had come back to know him again; the amount of love she bore him, devotion, loyalty. This was a woman he could imagine loving, of loving enough he did not care she was no dwarf, she was not made to be queen; but she was made to be his wife. "Perhaps we should eat," he said seeing she was quite uncomfortably with the turn of conversation, and seeing her relief at knowing they would not continue it for the time being.
Which left them sitting side by side eating as he asked her a great many questions, most she could not answer though some she could. "What was your world like?" he asked before taking a bite.
She thought of how to answer so he would understand, knowing there were very limited ways of explaining so that he would. "You know the past how things are old and forgotten and very different, and your current time you develop new things that are more advanced?"
"I know history," he told her blandly.
With a nod she continued; "my world was like that. This," she said motioning around them, "was history, and where I lived was many years later. At least I think," she finished with a shrug.
It was something he could accept, not quite understand and not quite wrap his head around, but it made enough sense that his mind could fill in the blanks. "You never answered my question," he said suddenly, having drawn to mind their first meeting four years before. "How often did we," the words fled him when he turned to her, the sight of her brown eyes as the torch flickered in them and on her smooth skin left him speechless.
And it left her mind filling in the blanks – and her mind was much more modern and much more lax than his. A dull ching sounded as she tapped her fork against the plate, unable to speak and give him a direct answer of a time that had not yet come to pass – but she could respond well enough.
His eyes widened in understanding. "I was a fool then," he said unable to believe it. "To have only kissed you once."
"Oh you meant kissing," she said offhandedly, for to her it was very casual – you kissed everyone, your parents and siblings if you had them, your friends; it was when she kissed Thorin she'd felt a fire in it, it was the only one that had ever mattered. And she looked at him to see his shocked face and she realized her mistake.
His jaw had slackened in his surprise at her words, at what they meant. "I laid with you?" he asked, seeing the answer as she turned away and unable to believe it. He stood and began pacing as he thought of what that meant: they had not been wed of that he was sure, and so he would not have taken her unless he truly had not been in his right mind. "What are you to me?" he asked stilling his feet and turning to her, wondering if perhaps they had been married in secret, or if he had been under a spell, or anything else for it did not make sense.
She'd moved to sit on the edge of the bed as she waited for what he would ask, though that was not exactly what she'd expected. "I was many things I suppose," she answered.
But that wasn't enough, that wasn't what he wanted. "Now," he clarified, "what are you to me now? You had been with me, we had been betrothed and obviously in love and yet you're here. You came back, why what happened? Did I die, is that it?" he asked for that was only thing he could think of for why she was now here instead of with him when he knew her.
"No," she said without thinking – though even when she thought about it she still wanted to say no, she didn't want him to know he died, she didn't want him to ever know that. "I," but even that she could not say for she was faced with her absolute failure in saving him. "What am I to you?" she repeated making to answer. Though she opened her mouth to tell him she was a girl stuck in a time she wasn't supposed to be in, and she had trapped herself in his life so that she couldn't leave him even if it was the right thing to do; but that said too much, and so she could not speak it. "To you I haven't been born yet. To you I am," her voice failed her before the word fell from her tongue; her eyes swelling and burning as she stared at his wondering face. "I am dead," she finished watching understanding spread in his eyes. "I am a ghost. To you, I am a ghost." She turned away from him unable to hold his eyes, not wanting him to see her cry because she knew he thought tears were weak; unable to look at him knowing that in a hundred years he would know her and she would ruin him completely by dying in his place – and then she would go back and watch him die. She had failed him so horribly, and she could not bear the memory of it – of him trying to tell her loved her, of his mouth opening to speak the words and only terrible gasps as he drowned in his blood coming out.
At the feel of his hand on her own she looked up at him and he wiped the tears from her cheeks seeing everything she'd ever done truly had been for him. "I have you now," he said, a hand holding hers and the other on her cheek. "You are not a ghost."
I'm sorry for ending it there because it was a little abrupt, but my heart kind of swooned and I couldn't write anymore. And for all you Whovians who caught the bit of dialogue that was heavily inspired by a scene from the show - go you! And for those of you who don't watch the show - if you like cheesy Syfy then it's the show for you. Also, Doctor Who aside, I'm now getting to the point where Thorin will start allowing more romantic(ish) thoughts of her; because finding out she came to Middle Earth for him has kind of always been the tipping point for him - cause I mean that's really when he started to soften toward her during the quest. So I'm quite excited for that.