Author's Notes: I decided not to write a lemon chapter. Why? Because one of my brothers is also reading
this fanfiction and that would just be too.. awkward :/ So I decided to give you guys some snippets to feed your imagination! Sorry! Don't hit me! It's such crap I'm gonna cry! ;_;

::I wish I could post some GIF/links here. Darn you FFnet!::

Stay tuned! Next chapter is going to arrive around Tuesday/Wednesday because I have no idea what to write next!

Chapter 26: Dawn

The very next day you woke up with the dim light of the upcoming sun shining through the narrow opening of your curtains and a pleasant satisfied feeling settled in your gut. Steady but slowly, your senses started to return to your hazed mind and so did your memories of the night before. The faint smell of oak and sweat drifted into your nostrils and when you turned to your other side, your eyes grazed the features a familiar prince who was fast asleep.

Thorin was laying on his back, his black manes ruffled and surrounding his head like a dark halo. With your twisting and turning, his arm around your waist had fallen off, but he had not woken because of that. Gently you sat up, allowing the sheets to slid of the naked skin of your shoulders and pool at your hips.

A fluster dusted your cheeks when one of your hands reached out and the tips of your fingers ghosted over the skin of his chest that was covered in thin black fur and coated his muscles in a light layer. Thorin had the muscles of a seasoned warrior, with the occasional scar here and there, that bulged slightly with each intake of breath he took. It were the same muscles that your breasts had been squished against just mere hours ago.

Your remembered how his strong back and thigh muscles propelled you to new heights that you had never experienced before, again, and again. How his voice whispered things in your ear that made you feel so incredibly hot that it made you even fluster now, thinking back at it. You shuddered at those delicious memories and lied back down again, letting your eyes drink in the sleeping Thorin next to you whilst one of your hands gently weaved itself in his thick black hair.

The moment he had embraced you that night, you had felt that something was wrong. He never told you what when his hands had roamed over your body, wrinkling and sliding under your night attire and setting your skin alight. The passion had been unbelievable that night, but it was also coated by a thin sheen of desperation. As if he solely wanted to focus his attention upon you –or at least something else- whilst horrible demons wanted to claim his thoughts. Did he have sex with you just to think of something else or to release some stress? You hoped it was neither, but had enjoyed it nonetheless.

You gnawed at your bottom lip at this troublesome thought. After a while you stood up, letting the blankets glide of your body when you stood up and your bare feet guided you to the window. You peered outside through the small opening of the curtains and watched how the streets below your window started to wake up as the sky coloured from blueish purple to a yellowy orange.

People started to roam the streets in no time, setting up their stalls to sell their goods to those who passed them by. Children giggled, laughed and played between the stalls, earning the occasional shout when they almost knocked something over, but they ignored it and kept chasing each other and eventually ran out of view.

"Ayne."

The rumbling of a deep voice behind, almost startled you. You turned, letting the curtains slip out of your fingers and fall back in place. Thorin's grey eyes immediately captured yours when you dared to look at him; they were incredibly intense, but mysterious, once again. Making questions appear on the back of your tongue that you dared not to ask and were swallowed down for the thousandth time.

Thorin motioned for you to come, so you did. You stepped back in the bed at the spot that you had left mere moments ago and snuggled against the dwarrow prince. His large calloused hands ran through your short blond locks in a rhythmic fashion when you laid with your cheek on his chest and the tips of your fingers played with the outlines of his muscles. You felt that he wanted to say something, but couldn't. So you waited, and waited, until the sun was now fully up and shining in your bedroom.

You decided to take the matter in your own hands.

"Thorin, I love you. You know that right?" You dared to whisper to him, breaking the silence that had been looming over the two of you. For a moment, you swore that his breathing had stopped for a mere second as you said it, but then resumed itself micro-second later. His fingers kept coursing through the locks of your hair as Thorin's baritone voice uttered a small "Yes.".

"I know that something is troubling you, I feel it," you immediately said for you knew Thorin well enough that he would deny it. "You don't have to tell me, but I want you to know that I am here for you if you ever need me. Alright?"

You turned and looked up at the prince from the position of his chest, with your legs strangled with each other. You reached up and cupped the sides of his face, your fingers trailing the scar over his nose and the one above his brow that had healed actually quite nasty, but didn't deform his gorgeous face. The tips of your digits slowly slid down over his straight nose and eventually touched his lips. Thorin nodded and you smiled, letting your hands slide down his face and rest on his collarbones.

Instantly he pulled your closer -savouring the smell of flowers that you seem to always wear no matter how battered or sweaty you were- and pressed his lips hard and needy against your own. You faintly recalled the bedroom door being opened and quickly closed with something like "Ayn- Oh, never mind.". It did not disturb you two in the least.

A few hours later you were refreshed, well-fed, clean, dressed and waiting outside for Bilbo with the rest of the dwarves. Bifur was grunting, pointing at the sun and cursing in Khuzdul that the hobbit was late and he was right. The sun was already starting to reach its highest peak and they were starting to gain attention from the local villagers; the sight of fourteen dwarves was one they weren't accustomed to. Finally the door of the tavern opened and Bilbo came stumbling outside, his bulging pack weighing heavy on his tiny shoulders.

"I still don't see why I had to pay for everything!" The hobbit grumbled when the company crossed the bridge of Laketown –you tipped an invisible hat to the guards with a grin- Bofur shrugged at his answer.

"Because you were the one with most of the gold? We haven't reclaimed Erebor yet, so we are a poor as a church mouse," the dwarf said with a shrug of his shoulders. And thus the company resumed their journey. All were eager and aching to get it over with and that showed in the way they animatedly talked with each other with their eyes twinkling with mirth. But there was something brewing underneath the surface, Bilbo could feel it and see it in yours and Thorin's eyes.

It made him worry what was going to come.

The following days proved to be quite uneventful, but the spirits of the dwarves slowly dispersed into a thin hum. There was no song or tale told those days as you, Bilbo and the company strode on. Three days after they had left Laketown, they met a caravan who gave them supplies and pony's, but dared not to follow them towards the mountains under the pretext of that 'they dared not to dwell near until the songs turned into truth'.

Fall had passed them in a blink of an eye and the sudden biting cold announced the arrival of winter. It made the mood of the company even more depressed, as the realization that they journey was coming to an end downed upon them. The luscious forest-like landscape slowly made way for naked and dead trees and dead plains stretching out as far as the eye could see. Here and there ruins of settlements stuck out of the ground, eaten away by time and making our Bilbo shudder at the eeriness that it portrayed.

"The fury of Smaug," Balin explained to the ones that bore that silent question on their tongues, but did not ask. "The city of dale is of no better shape." The old dwarf jumped off his pony as the company took refuge in one of these ruins in the hope to escape the sharp wind and biting cold that rushed across the plains. You were grateful that the weather spirits hadn't decided to let it snow, for the fire that Gloin had made was quite welcome.

A nice and hot meal did something good to the spirits of the dwarves and Bofur even dared to strike a tune with his flute that was quite merry and even made Dwalin pull out his violin, causing Bilbo to raise an eyebrow for he had not expected that of the tattooed dwarf.

The hobbit was seated next to you, his back against one of the ruin walls and spooning the warm stew in his mouth, careful not to burn himself. Your eyes were silently watching Thorin, Fili and Kili converse as the prince told his nephews of how the city of Dale has formed and of the heroes it had spawned. They absorbed every word of him like a sponge absorbed water.

"So, I have heard that you and Thorin.." Bilbo awkwardly began and fiddled with the steaming bowl of his hands. He wasn't sure what to do.

You looked at him and smiled briefly, making the hobbit fluster a little bit at your honesty. "Yes, we are. If that answers your question. Do you also want to know of what position we are fond off? It must be that one where you bend backwards and entangle yourself with-"

Bilbo's cheeks turned from a soft pink into a bright red as he almost choked on his own saliva when he hastily held up one hand and gasped "N-no! For god's sake! I- NO!"

You laughed. It was joyful and incredibly intoxicating for some of the dwarves who's ears had picked up your talking. Bilbo felt the redness spread over his cheeks, down his neck and even coating his slightly pointed ears. Nonetheless the corners of his mouth tucked upwards just a bit when you nudged him slightly and your hands ruffled his hair.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Mr. Baggings, I am merely jesting." The words that rolled over your soft lips reassured the hobbit a bit. It was of no secret now that Thorin and you were quite romantically involved –especially after that night- and though it was awkward, it was accepted. None teased the two of you about it and some claimed that they had even seen it coming. You decided it was just a twist of fate and events that brought the two of you closer together.

You watched that night how Thorin's eyes grew distant each time he looked ahead in that vast darkness of the night; the Lonely Mountain, far in the distance, being partly lit by the moon only to grow dark again when clouds decided to hide the orb of silver from view. He grew more and more distant from the group and said nothing when you embraced him, but merely returned the gestures.

The next day, the plains seemed to become less flat and boulders stuck out of the ground like giant grey teeth as the mountain seemed to venture closer and closer. You could see with each passing day that the dwarves grew more anxious and more on edge at night. Finally the company reached the remaining ruins of the city of Dale and reached the foot of the mountain.

Thorin motioned for everyone to stop and Bilbo couldn't even fathom what he was seeing. They had reached the very foot of the mountain, that loomed over them with snow adorning its kilometres high peak like a crown. You felt pride swell in your heart and thanked Durin with fleeting whispers coming from your lips. Balin stopped next to you, his eyes twinkling and a smile grown on his lips when he spoke.

"Erebor. We've made it."

"Smaug," Thorin seethed, his grey eyes focused upon the mountain with hate. "Your days are numbered."

"Aye!"