Skinny love: when people display all the symptoms of being in love and yet refuse to acknowledge or admit it.
Lizzy was thoroughly enjoying herself on her tour of the fortress. After having visited the forge Amma took her down to the mines, where she had eagerly observed from one of the walkways how the Dwarves had dangled down on ropes, wearing small helmets with flickering candles to illuminate the rock in front of them. Her welcome there had been slightly less hospitable than the one she had received from Davlin in the forge, the head of the mining operation huffing and puffing that he was trying to run an excavation and not a tourist attraction. However, timid Amma had risen to his challenge and pointedly told the Dwarf that her father wished for Thorin's companions to be afforded every courtesy. At that the Dwarf had hesitated, glanced at Lizzy, and then reluctantly showed them down into the mine.
"Bravo," Lizzy said quietly as they descended. Amma gave her a questioning look and so she elaborated. "You seemed very nervous earlier, but that was brilliant," she whispered so as not to be overheard.
"I … it is only around new people that I truly get nervous, my lady – I mean Elizabeth. I find that I am more confident with people that I know," Amma replied, actually favouring her with a small smile, the first she had seen from the Dwarf-girl. After their time in the forge she seemed to have realised that Lizzy wasn't going to bite her and had relaxed in her presence.
They spent some time down in the mine, with Lizzy being shown some of the raw materials that had been mined and the process of chipping away the rock to reveal the hard lumps of gemstone beneath, which were then fashioned into marvellous pieces. Her awe had been so evident that the glowering head of the mine had stopped scowling and actually answered her questions, as opposed to his previous tactic of pretending she didn't exist while they had been touring the mines. By the time they left he nodded politely at her, grumpily adding that he would see them at the feast later.
Lizzy blinked as they emerged back into the brightly lit tunnels of the main fortress, her eyes having previously adjusted to the dimmer light of the mines. Amma glanced around them, deciding where to go next. "We shall avoid the kitchen and main hall for now since they will be busy preparing the feast for later," she said decisively and Lizzy was happy to agree, knowing she would see the hall that evening.
As they were walking, approaching an intersection in the corridors, Lizzy heard two female voices ahead of them and instinctively slowed down to listen. "Have you seen him yet?" one of them asked.
"No!" the other replied, sounding distinctly disgruntled by this, their voices getting louder as they approached. "Have you?"
"I caught a glimpse of him walking with the youngest prince," the first voice said smugly, followed by a deep sigh. "He is so handsome."
"Would you think he was so handsome if he was just a miner as opposed to the king?" the second voice asked, clearly dismissive of this account. Her words made Lizzy realise just who, exactly, they were speaking of as the girls crossed the intersecting corridors in front of them without noticing their presence, both of them carrying armfuls of linen.
"They're talking about Thorin!" she whispered, pulling Amma to a halt.
"You didn't see his eyes," the first girl insisted in answer to the other girls question – Lizzy had to allow this observation to be true, she had noticed on several occasions that Thorin's eyes were a strange mixture of icy grey and bright blue. "And he is so tall. I'd heard that the Longbeards were a tall clan, but he must be over five feet!"
"You shouldn't eavesdrop!" Amma said agitatedly to Lizzy, wringing her hands; apparently she did not approve of her amusement and blatant attempts to continue listening to their conversation.
"Shh!" Lizzy hissed back, grinning over their swooning over Thorin.
"I've heard he seems a bit … cold," the second Dwarf-girl said.
The first one, the one who had seen him walking with Kili, snickered. "I'm sure the right woman could warm him up," she said with brash confidence, their voices fading as they walked.
"Well, that position might already have been taken," the other girl was replying, with Lizzy still straining her ears to hear. "Have you heard ..."
"My lady?" Amma interrupted, looking mildly concerned at the way Lizzy was poking her head around the corner in a vain attempt to hear more.
She straightened up and flashed Amma another smile. "Poor girls, they will have their work cut out for them if they want to seduce Thorin," she said, somewhat more cattily than she had intended it to come out. "They'd probably have better luck trying to flirt with an orc."
Amma spluttered at her. "My la – Elizabeth, you should not say such things," she said, glancing around once more.
"Lizzy, I told you," she corrected – somehow her full name sounded strange now, only Thorin really called her Elizabeth. She shook her head and decided to change the subject slightly. "How about you, Amma? Got your eye on any Dwarves here?"
The girl instantly blushed and looked down at the floor, the red of her face clashing with her auburn hair. "No, not really," she said as they started walking again.
"Your blush says otherwise," Lizzy teased playfully, coaxing another small smile from her.
"I … I do have one or two Dwarves attempting to court me," she admitted softly, shyly pursing her lips. Lizzy grinned at this: she hadn't realised how much she had missed casual gossip about men and dates between women, something she hadn't indulged in since arriving in Middle-earth.
"What does courting involve?" she asked curiously, intrigued at this part of Dwarvish customs.
"Gifts mostly," Amma replied, her face falling into a small, pretty frown. "Requests to walk or eat together."
"You don't sound too happy about that," Lizzy observed carefully, noticing the way her tone and expression had changed.
Amma was quiet for a moment and Lizzy wondered if she was going to reply at all, then she started speaking slowly. "I … I do not really like the attention from some of them. A lot are quick to realise that I have no interest, but others are more unobservant." She pulled a face. "Like Fain for instance."
"Ugh," Lizzy said instantly without thinking, remembering how unpleasant the captain of the guard had been; she had no idea what he had called her to prompt Kili into hitting him, but it certainly hadn't been complimentary. Not a good impression, especially after not having opened the doors to them in the fight. Amma was giving her a curious look and she was forced to elaborate on her opinion. "I've met him, he seems like a dickhead."
"A what?" Amma replied, her eyes going very wide indeed.
"A dickhead, an asshat, a douchebag … not a very nice person," she finished lamely when it became clear that the Dwarf-girl was unfamiliar with the words she was using and not taking her meaning at all.
"What a … colourful vernacular you have," she said mildly, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.
Lizzy smirked at this and diverted the conversation away from herself once more. "So Fain is trying to court you, but hasn't got the message that you're not interested," she surmised.
"Yes," Amma said, returning to their original topic. "I try to be as unencouraging as I can without being rude, but he is annoyingly persistent."
"You clearly hate him," she observed, pleased that her new friend shared her opinion of the captain.
Amma tilted her head ever so slightly to one side. "Hate is a strong word," she said unconvincingly, trying to be diplomatic in her assessment of him.
Lizzy nodded and there was silence for a brief moment. "But if he was on fire and you had water you would probably just drink it, right?" she asked for clarification.
Amma burst into giggles, her demure façade shattering. It took her several attempts to compose herself, whereupon she grinned at Lizzy. "You are a most amusing person, Eliza-"
"Uh, what did we talk about?" she said, holding up a hand to forestall her as she heard the start of her full name. "I had to drill this into Thorin too, if we are going to be friends you have to call me by name."
Her smile softened, but the Dwarf-girl's eyes remained bright with humour. "Lizzy. You are a most amusing person, Lizzy," she said with quiet, sincere pleasure, maintaining eye-contact as she spoke.
They both smiled at each other and then continued walking. It was so nice to be talking with another woman as opposed to bawdy conversations around a camp-fire – aside from Galadriel, who didn't really count, Lizzy had barely spoken to another woman for months.
That said, she had never been much of a girly girl. She only had brothers growing up and, while she had several girl-friends, the majority of her friends at university had been men. She wasn't a tomboy by any means, enjoying dressing up and shopping as much as any other girls, but she had practically been considered one of the guys back at home, joining them in pubs for drinking and pool sessions. Really, it wasn't any wonder she had taken to the male dominated company of bawdy Dwarves so quickly upon arriving in Middle-earth.
"I was going to ask earlier when you mentioned him bursting in on you in the bath ..." Amma started slowly, seeming hesitant about her words and interrupting her thought process. "Are … are you and King Thorin courting?"
Lizzy stopped in her tracks.
"I did not mean any offence in asking," she added hastily, misreading her shocked face. "Only … well, I thought women spoke of these things when they were friends and -"
"Courting?" Lizzy interrupted, finding her tongue. "What on earth gave you that idea?"
"Well …" Amma said cautiously, clearly unsure of her reaction to that unexpected question. "You two are very … comfortable around each other," she explained. "Mother thinks the idea is ridiculous, but Lothi is convinced that you two are betrothed."
"What?" she spluttered, her mind whirring – both Beorn and the Goblin-king had made that assumption too, what was it about her interactions with Thorin that convinced people they were together?
"He said you were wearing the royal sigil when you arrived," Amma said.
"Yeah, I was wearing his cloak, but that doesn't mean … I mean, yes he is – you know – handsome, I suppose, but we aren't – we're not … oh shut up," she finished, pulling an embarrassed face when she noticed Amma's raised eye-brows, feeling rather uncomfortable about her inability to properly answer her questions.
"I told you about my love life, or lack thereof," she said with guileless innocence. "It is only fair that you do the same. I believe that is what friends do, after all."
Lizzy narrowed her eyes at this ingenuous attempt at a guilt-trip. "There is nothing going on between me and Thorin," she said firmly. However she did not sound as convincing as she has intended with the memory from that morning of him wrapping her in his leather coat and using the fur collar to pull her closer popping into her head.
There was no denying that her friendship with him was different to others. She didn't have the same close, familial relationship with him that she shared with Fili, Kili and the Brothers Ur. Nor did she have the candid and easy friendship that she had with people like Ori and Bilbo. Her interactions with Thorin were just … different. They had been tense and charged from the start: they had shouted at each other and they sometimes hadn't spoken for days on end, but when they had decided that they would be better off as friends than simply allies or acquaintances they had eventually worked themselves into somewhat harmonious and pleasant conversations, to the point where she genuinely enjoyed being in his company.
If she had to put a word to it she would have to reluctantly call it chemistry – but on no account would it be anything more than that. This wasn't some crappy fanfiction in which the heroine swooningly fell in love with whichever hero happened to flex his muscles in her direction, this was real life and she would be returning to her world when this was done. That alone would be hard enough with the amazing friendship and family she had formed here, there was no sense in adding a messy relationship to that mix.
Besides, Thorin would never look at her that way, she thought, forcefully squashing down something that felt suspiciously like a pang.
"Lizzy?" Amma said tentatively and she realised that she had been musing in silence for some time.
"Hmm?" she replied, shaking off her uncomfortable train of thought.
"Would … would you like to see my room?" the other girl offered shyly. "I could do your hair for this evening, if you like."
Lizzy smiled at this, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind. "Sure, I'd like that," she said honestly, linking arms with a pleased Amma as she led the way through the corridors.
With boats and provisions for their departure all organised, Thorin located various members of the company to inform them that they were leaving on the morrow. Reactions to this news were varied, with most grumbling that they were leaving the luxuries the fortress provided too soon. However, Dwalin simply nodded and grunted his agreement and Balin wanted to be back on the road again as soon as possible. Surprisingly, Bilbo shared the old Dwarf's sentiment; when questioned about this he revealed to Thorin that after his thorough tour of the fortress at the hands of Bofur and Balin he felt like an outcast within their society. Thorin had paused at this, thinking of how Elizabeth was in the same position Bilbo was and had made every effort to immerse herself in their culture to the extent that she was mostly welcomed here.
Having checked on the well-being of all of his company he started back towards to his room once more, intending to take the bath that he had not had time for earlier. He was walking down a corridor when he heard female voices in front of him and paused to listen.
"... that position might already have been taken, have you heard that the human woman was wearing the royal sigal when she arrived?" one of the voices asked the other, the two laundry maids passing in the intersecting corridor ahead of the one he was in.
"No!" the other voice replied in surprise and he was disconcerted to hear them talking of Elizabeth. "Do you think she is betrothed to the king?"
"I don't know, but I heard it from one of the sentries who escorted the company over the Stair," the first girl said, then their voices were lost as they continued down the corridor and he could hear no more.
Thorin rubbed one hand over his beard, thinking hard. The subject of the girls conversation was clearly Elizabeth and himself, he knew people were speaking of their arrival and the presence of a human in his company, though he hadn't realised until now that he personally had become a subject of such salacious gossip. It appeared from this brief snippet of conversation that he had overheard that people were speculating on the nature of his relationship with Elizabeth, even believing them to be betrothed.
He shook his head and continued walking. While he may have acknowledged her to be somewhat attractive, coupled with her other virtues of bravery, goodness and a quick wit, it did not make the idea of a human as his queen any less ludicrous - especially since Elizabeth was returning to her home once this quest was over.
Yet somehow that thought disconcerted him far more that it had a few weeks ago.
Amma had ushered her into a seat in front of a large mirror and was brushing out her hair, which was slightly tangled since she hadn't brushed it after leaping from the bath and then hastily dressing for her tour. As such, Lizzy was able to sit and study her reflection, not having seen herself in the mirror since leaving Rivendell. The changes were alarming: not only was her face tanned and visibly freckled after riding for weeks in the sunshine, it was also thinner than she remembered it being, her cheeks slightly hollow and and her jawline more defined. She had noticed similar such changes in her body over the past weeks as well, her fraying cargo trousers hanging slightly off her hips. The weeks of travel had shed some of the baby fat still clinging to her body, leaving her more toned and her muscles stronger. Her hair had also grown a lot, now hanging nearly to the middle of her back, the gold now more prominent than the brown, having been lightened by the sun.
Amma's fingers found the hair bead and she paused, examining it for a moment. "So it is true," she said softly. "You were made an offer to join the clan."
Lizzy nodded cautiously, relieved that Amma didn't seem affronted by having found the bead. "I think that a lot of people here are not going to like it," she said, pulling a slight face as she remembered the company's adverse reactions.
"Then they are blind," Amma said, dropping the bead and continuing with her hair, dividing sections up to braid them. "You saved my brothers life and you are now my friend, I would be pleased to call you a clan-member." Amma was plaiting her hair at the front, pulling it back from her hairline to form a French-plait like a crown on top of her head. "I hope father sanctifies you." she paused and rested her hands on the back of her chair, making eye contact with Lizzy in the mirror. "I shall put in a good word for you, if you like," she offered with a smile.
Lizzy smiled back at her. "I think Thorin has already done that," she said, thinking of the way he had described her in their meeting with Lord Lothar when explaining her presence in the company and defending her adoption. It had been nice to know that Thorin now had such a high opinion of her, certainly contrasting to his initial evaluation of her being a liability.
Amma continued with her hair; she had finished the large braid at the front and was now plaiting the long sections and pulling them back into a nest at the nape of her neck, her fingers working deftly. "You're hair is such a pretty colour," she observed as she worked. "Most Dwarves have dark or red hair, but yours is dark gold … just like Prince Fili's," she added softly, almost too quiet to hear.
Lizzy's eyebrows were high on her head at those words. "I didn't know you had met Fili," she said interestedly, watching the girl's reaction.
"I haven't," Amma said quickly, looking alarmed. "I … I just saw him eating in the hall."
She nodded carefully, her lips pursed together. "Want me to introduce you?" she asked, a slow smile creeping up her face.
"Introduce me?" Amma repeated, startled. Her eyes were wide and her hands motionless in her hair.
"To Fili," she clarified.
"No!" Amma said quickly, shaking her head vigorously and continuing working on her hair, ducking her head to avoid making eye-contact with her in the mirror.
"Why not?" Lizzy asked plaintively, irked that the matchmaking plans that had sprung into her head were being halted in their tracks. "He is a really lovely guy and, unlike Thorin, he isn't scary."
Amma's lips quirked at this, though she still shook her head adamantly. "Thank you for the offer, but he is the future king of our people and, like I said earlier, I am barely nobility," she said, giving her a slightly forced smile to go with her overly breezy tone. "I am happy to admire from a distance."
"Right ..." Lizzy said, temporarily dropping her introduction plans. She would allow Amma her way in this and not push any further, but if at the feast later the opportunity for a little nudge arose she would probably take it.
There was a brief silence and them Amma spoke once more. "I am actually looking forward to tonight," she said cheerily. "Normally I don't like social gatherings very much, but I think we will have fun."
"I hope so," she said, giving her a slightly forced smile in turn. The style Amma had worked her hair into left the braid containing the Firebeard bead conspicuously over her shoulder, meaning news of her adoption was bound to come out and she knew that not everyone would be as pleased as her new friend was by this. That, coupled with the fact that it was her first foray into Dwarven society and she still knew little of their customs, she was more than a little nervous.
One thing was certain, tonight was going to be interesting.
After his bath Thorin donned the clothes that had been thoughtfully left out on the bed, feeling fresher than he had done in months. He eschewed his travel stained shirt and armour for a red tunic embroidered with gold thread at the collar and cuffs, coupled with soft, black suede trousers and his study boots. Using a metal clasp he had found in the room, he pulled his damp hair into a tail, leaving his warriors braids hanging free at the front. He was gathering his weapons to leave and head down to the main hall when he heard a loud banging of a door in the adjoining room and the distinctive clattering of footsteps.
He crossed to the door and knocked sharply. "Are you ready?" he asked through the wood, thinking that he should escort her down to the feast.
"One second, just getting changed!" he heard Elizabeth hollar back, followed by more clattering noises. A few seconds later the door was flung open wide and she beamed at him. "Yes, I'm ready."
He was distracted by her appearance. Her hair had been plaited and swept up into a distinctly Dwarvish style, leaving her braid conspicuous at the front with small wisps prettily escaping to frame her face. She was wearing the blue dress she had favoured in Rivendell and at Beorn's house, though it was adorned by several deep creases, no doubt a consequence of being scrunched at the bottom of her bag.
The result was an unsettling mix of the familiar and alien, the Dwarvish hair-style meeting the strange clothing from her world.
He sighed deeply. "Elizabeth, that is hardly suitable attire."
She looked down at her dress. "And just what is wrong with my clothing?" she demanded, looking back up at him and folding her arms.
"It is rather short," said by way of explanation. True as this was, the dress was also flattering on her, tightly hugging the curves of her waist and hips and displaying her collarbones without the neckline being too indecent.
"So?" she said, clearly affronted. "I'll have you know that this is actually considered quite modest in my world."
"Well here it would be considered little more than undergarments or night-wear," he told her bluntly.
She blinked at him – once, twice, three times. "Are you telling me that when I wore this in Rivendell and at Beorn's I was basically prancing around in front of the entire company in my underwear?" she spluttered, her voice rising to a shriek at the end.
"Essentially, yes," he said, taking slight amusement in the way her cheeks had coloured.
"And you didn't think to tell me?" she demanded, still visibly discomposed by this revelation.
"While the company is used to your strange behaviour and customs, the people here are not," he said, neglecting to answer her question. "Did they give you nothing else to wear?"
She was silent, looking at the floor with a furrowed brow.
"Elizabeth?" he prompted when she still hadn't replied.
"One second," she said, raising a single finger at him to forestall any further interruptions and still gazing at the ground. "My feminist principals about what I wear on my body being no-one's business but my own are coming into conflict with my desire to make a good impression," she said.
Thorin folded his arms, watching her interestedly. She was clearly thinking hard and was displeased judging by the way the crease in her brow deepened. She abruptly sighed. "Dammit," she muttered and the door was suddenly slammed in his face, almost hitting him on the nose.
Deciding it would be best to leave her to it, he returned to the bed and continued strapping his sword around his waist and hiding his knives, one in his boot and one up his sleeve. He glanced at the door and found himself wondering what her current state of dress was before realising the inappropriateness of his thoughts. He cleared his throat irritably and shook his head to clear it. The gossips he had overheard earlier had clearly got to him, it would not do to think of her in such a way.
She abruptly flung the door wide once more and he raised a casual brow at this outburst as she hovered awkwardly in the entryway. She was now wearing a cream coloured dress made of light silk, with an ivory and gold embroidered bodice and panel at the front of the full skirt. She was ever so slightly too tall for it, the skirt falling to just above her ankles and showing her lace-up slippers. The style was unmistakably Dwarvish, making her look like nobility with the gold offsetting the colour of her up-swept hair.
He opened his mouth to comment on her appearance but was forestalled by a rush of words tumbling from her mouth. "Ineedyoutodoupmydress," she muttered, her words blurring inaudibly together. She was keeping her eyes on the floor, refusing to look at him.
"I beg your pardon?" he repeated, staring at her – he wasn't sure he liked the change in her clothing, she looked almost too Dwarvish as opposed to her human self.
She sighed and forced her eyes upwards. "I – need – you – to – do – up – my – dress," she said awkwardly, purposefully enunciating each word.
Thorin simply stared at her, his mouth ever so slightly open.
She half turned, staring pointedly over her shoulder at him as she bared the gaping back of her dress. He could see why she'd had trouble, the intricate, undone laces looked daunting, with the loose back of the dress baring her skin. He noticed that the dark black bruises on her sides from pinching Goblin claws had faded to an unhealthy looking yellow and the cuts from the whip appeared to be healing well.
He swallowed hard and cleared his throat once more. "I see," he said, his voice somewhat deeper than usual. He approached slowly, trying to figure out the best way to do this.
Taking the bottom laces in hand, he felt her twitch as the backs of his fingers accidentally brushed against her skin. He couldn't help but notice the line of her small, dark green undergarments surrounding her hips, adorned with a tiny bow that sat in the small of her back whose sole purpose appeared to be to draw a man's eye downwards.
He abruptly pulled the first lace taunt, causing her to almost fall back against him with an audible peep of surprise followed by an indignant "hey!" Ignoring her, he repeated the action and, while her balance was better this time, she still jerked awkwardly.
"Stand still," he ordered, threading the laces through the next set of eyelets, his knuckles brushing her skin once more.
"I'm trying," she snapped back over her shoulder.
He pulled the next set of laces and was once again rewarded with a squeak. While the dress was too short for her, it was slightly too big in the bodice meaning that the laces had to be pulled tightly, which was difficult with her threatening to topple at every tug he gave at the fastenings. He sighed and glanced around the room. "Hold onto the bedpost," he commanded brusquely.
Elizabeth was staring over her shoulder at him from where she was half braced against the door-frame. "Come again?" she demanded incredulously, her brows high on her forehead.
"The laces need to be pulled tight and it would be easier if you braced yourself against something so that you do not fall," he explained, doing his best to ignore the impropriety of the situation. He frowned at her when she showed no signs of moving, her mouth hanging partially open. "The bedpost, now," he repeated imperiously.
She sighed and shuffled awkwardly over towards his bed, tentatively grasping the post at the foot. He followed her and gathered the laces once more, pulling them tight. She gasped, but remained still.
"I feel like Scarlett bloody O'hara," she said nonsensically after a few tugs, her breath catching.
Thorin paused, trying unsuccessfully to puzzle out her meaning for a few seconds before resuming with his work. "Are you aware that I sometimes understand very little of what you say?" he asked, threading the next set of laces.
"Are you aware that I sometimes do it on purpose?" she retorted with a smirk over her shoulder, throwing back her head with another gasp as he abruptly tightened the dress once more in response to her words.
"Face forward," he told her impatiently; she sighed and did as she was told.
He worked in silence for the next few sets of fastenings, growing steadily more infuriated by the breathy gasps she emitted with each tug of his hands. He eventually reached the top of her dress and his attention was once again captured by the scars between her shoulder-blades. He hadn't seen them since properly since they were fresh and bleeding, but now there were nine narrow, raised red lines of various length marring the skin of her back. She visibly shivered as he traced the tip of a finger over one of them, examining how the healing process was going.
"These are healing well," he observed, dropping his hands and taking a step backwards away from her.
"That's … good to know," she said, still facing away from him and gripping the bedpost, her knuckles white.
Thorin took a deep breath, remembering how he had never properly acknowledged her actions in Goblin-town, having been too preoccupied with the key to Erebor at the time. "You should not have had to endure what you did," he said softly, his voice gravelly. She turned to look at him, leaning back against the bedpost with her head tilted inquisitively to one side. He noticed that the tightened bodice now pushed her bosom up against the material in a distracting fashion. "I never thanked you for not revealing our quest, even under duress. I respect you for that," he added sincerely, forcing himself to meet her eyes.
"There is no need to thank me," she said, showing no hesitation in acquitting him of guilt.
"Yes, there is," he said deeply. "I believe I also owe you an apology."
She looked at him questioningly.
"You will have no doubt realised by now that I have a temper and I was angry that day," he explained, trying to justify his actions. "I apologise for the manner in which I spoke to you when we left Goblin-town."
Elizabeth's lips were pressed together in a wide, amused smile, her eyes dancing. "A thank you and and apology all in one day, being clean does wonders for your personality," she quipped, making him smile ever so slightly in turn.
They stood half smiling at each other for a long moment, then Elizabeth dropped her eyes and her hand crept up, going over her shoulder to touch the scars on her back. She pulled a face at him. "People will be able to see them," she said quietly, her self-consciousness evident in her voice.
"Aye," Thorin agreed. "As I told you several days ago, scars are considered badges of honour within our culture. Someone will be bold enough to enquire how you got them and then you will have an impressive story to tell, then the tale will quickly spread around them room."
Her smile had returned, though it was still somewhat wan. "How crafty of you," she said, rallying after her momentarily lack in confidence. She took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the bedpost. Then, standing before him, she slowly twirled. The material of the dress was light silk, suitable for dancing, and so the bottom of her dress fanned out as she turned. "What do you think?" she asked with coy playfulness.
"It is … very becoming on you," he said honestly, thinking that while the dress was lovely on her he found her preferred her in her strange black trousers and cotton shirts.
She beamed at him. "You don't scrub up too badly yourself," she replied, reaching up to bring one of his braids forward so it hung over his shoulder, her hand lingering a second too long on his tunic before she dropped it back to her side and smiled almost shyly up at him.
Once again, he found himself simply staring at her for another long moment. She pursed her lips and half gestured towards the main door to his suite. "We should …"
"Indeed," he agreed, going to the door and holding it open for her. "Come," he said, instinctively offering his arm.
She took it with a smile and they exited his room into the corridor. "I get the royal escort, hey?" she said cheekily as they walked.
Thorin hid a smirk, knowing that their arrival together would send a strong message to those who opposed her adoption. It was strange, when Bifur had first made her the offer he had been unsettled by it, not believing it to be wise, yet the more he heard people contest her the more he rose to her defence, to the extent that he now believed that she would be an asset to any clan.
As they walked she spoke of her day, cheerfully telling him about having seen the forge and the mines during her tour with Lady Amma, the excitement evident in her voice. However, as they approached the hall her words trailed off and her free hand crept up once more, reaching over her shoulder to touch the scars on her back. He grabbed her wrist, pushing it back down to her side. "Badges of honour, Elizabeth," he reminded her softly as they approached the doors to the main hall and the hub of people within. "Not flaws."
"Right," she said, giving him another wan smile and putting on a brave face.
He watched her take a deep breath and then they entered the hall. Because he was already looking in her direction he was able to observe the transition of her features from nervousness to sheer awe. Her gaze lifted to the cavernous ceiling supported by great pillars with flickering lights wound between them to illuminate the long, heavily laden tables below. Her grey eyes were wide with almost child-like wonder as she gazed at the amazing architecture around them, her rapture so consuming that she hadn't even noticed the entire hall falling silent upon their arrival.
Hello from sunny Western Australia! I landed in Perth nearly a week ago and have been doing boring things like sorting out medicards, bank accounts and phone sims, but am now currently in a place called Margaret River, looking for work and surfing lessons! :)
Sorry you guys had to wait so long for the chapter and also sorry for not replying to reviews – free wifi spots are few and far between, so I didn't really have time to reply as I have been doing. However each review was loved and appreciated, I am so glad you guys are enjoying the story and thank you to those of you who wished me well on my travels!
As always, reviews are welcome and you can follow any updates, sneak peeks and ask questions (and enjoy Richard Armitage spam and travel news) on my tumblr ~kindle-the-stars.
Also, I posted a pic of how I imagine Lizzy's hair to look on there too, if you were curious. Dress wise, I was basically imagining the coronation dress from Princess Diaries, only made of much lighter material and not quite as long.
Question time! Starting my travelling has got me curious – if you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
Love to you all!
