A/N: This chapter is penultimate. Then one more and an epilogue. Well, maybe two chapters and an epilogue. Depends on how the smut goes :) But the plot is almost complete, my darlings.
And then to the sequel "Life That Always Will Be"(and beyond)! :D
And those of you who asked will find the answer to the question "What's with Mira and Legolas?" ;)
A/N#2: Question: What should get updated next? "Ice, Ice Baby" or "Do You Have a Prescription for That?" Leave your vote in a review, my duckies :)
The King chokes on the piece of mince pie he was chewing and starts coughing frantically. There is a tray with lunch near him on the bed, and you feel rather ridiculous. If you walk to him now to pat his back, you will ruin the effect from your striking appearance. You also have exhausted all your courage on this act, and now you feel blush rising all over your body. You clench your fists and make a small step backwards. Still coughing, he catches your movement in the corner of his eye and dashes from the bed towards you.
"Oh no, you are not reneging now, Filegethiel!" He catches your hand and starts pulling you towards the bed, his eyes roaming your body. You stumble ahead, your heart painfully drumming in your throat, you are regretting your boldness with every fibre of your soul. Momentarily you wonder where this shyness comes from, you are much more experienced than him, you have been married, and you know him! You were the first and only woman he has bedded, and even more so you have done the deed five moons ago! You are a midwife, for the name of Yavanna, Giver of Fruit! He sits on the bed and pulls you on his lap. You think you can hear your teeth chattering.
"I feel like a virgin on her wedding night," you blurt out, and he guffaws. He then gently strokes your hair scattered on your shoulders and then cups your face with his hands.
"I would have asked you if you were certain, kurdu," your heart flutters from the low velvet of his voice wrapping around your old, familiar moniker, "Had you not come out of a bath in all your enticing bareness." He slightly tilts your head and places a feathery kiss under your ear of your neck. You loudly gulp.
"I am not enticing. I think I am thinner that I have ever been in my life, except for..." You trail away, looking down at your breasts, and he nuzzles your neck.
"Can I touch them? Will it hurt?"
"It will not, just be gentle..." You feel him nod, and one of his large palms cautiously cups your breast. It is an exquisite sensation, his skin hot and calloused, and you close your eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his temple. The tips of his fingers gently run around your rib cage, he presses you into him closer, and his lips graze your lobe. You remember that you were very fond of such caresses with him. You forgot so much! When you bedded him five moons ago you had no time to savour your loving, right now he is breathing deeply under your hands, and you feel athirst for every little detail. You tread your fingers into his hair and make him drop his head back so you can see his face. There is anticipation in his eyes, but no frenzy, the line of his lips soft, small smile dancing in the corners.
"I am certain, Thorin," you murmur softly, and he smiles wider. You lower your lips on his and lose yourself in his taste. After a few minutes of soft and slow caresses, he turns on the bed, jerks the covers off with one hand and places you on the sheets. He tears off his doublet and busily starts shakes off his boots. You are silently watching him, when he turns to you and his gaze runs from your face over your whole body to your toes. And then the tips of his fingers repeat the path, brushing your jaw, down your neck, to the collarbones, pausing for a split of a second in the hollow between them, and then they travel down between your breasts, to your stomach, making you gasp softly, and then down your right leg and finally he gently brushes them on your big toe. A low moan escapes your lips, and you inhale deeply. You are torn between bashfulness and desire for him to enjoy your body amply.
He smirks and takes off the lunch tray from the bed to the floor. You are still, your fingers twitching on the sheets, and he slowly places his right hand on the other side of your body. He is looming over you and smiles.
"You do seem rather high-strung for a mature woman such as yourself." His tone is mischievous, and you understand he is trying to distract you. There is no malice in his joke. You lift one brow. "You are after all a mother of two."
You hook your finger to the collar of his tunic and pull him down. "That would not require much experience, Thorin. As we now know one can bear a child of a prolific Dwarf after just one bout." He smirks and allows you to lead him to your mouth. He kisses you thoroughly and then nips at your bottom lip. Then his lips slide on your jaw, his teeth graze the skin there playfully, and you feel his mouth at your ear.
"Do not expect me to limit myself thusly with the next ones," he whispers and catches your lobe between his teeth. Your heart skips a beat, and your hands start shaking.
"That was a perfectly delivered line, my King, have you practiced it in your head?" You hide your exuberant elation behind sarcasm, but your voice betrays you and breaks in the middle of your remark. He lifts his head and looks into your face.
"Perhaps, once or twice," he is chuckling warm-heartedly, and then gives you an attentive look, "And something tells me you are not very surprised by such plans of mine." You hum noncommittally and wrap your arms around his shoulders pulling him down.
"One step at a time, Thorin, one step at a time." He smiles wider and finally covers your body with his. He carefully nests between your legs, and you hiss. The buckle on his trousers scratches your stomach. "There is unquestionably excessive layers of fabric between us, Thorin."
"I did not want you to feel pressured..." He is gently kissing your shoulder.
"I am bare head to toe! I am the one pressuring!" He snortles, rises on his knees and picks up the hem of his tunic.
You quickly sit up and press your hands over his, halting him. "Can I?.." That was always your favourite part, his heavy upper body, muscular chest and wide shoulders visiting you in your salacious dreams even many years after you left Erebor. You pick up the lower edge of the garment and slowly pull up. Your palms graze his sides, and he jerks. He is ticklish, you have forgotten that as well. You throw the tunic behind you and splay your hands on his pectoral muscles. One corner of his lips twitches, but he is still. You tread your fingers through the thick black chesthair, and your inner muscles clench. You have not expected this, but a hot wave of arousal runs through your body from this simple action. You curl your fingers and claw at him like cats do with their favourite pillows. There is a low rumble in his chest, and you lean in and press your ear to it.
"I forgot the sounds you make..." You murmur, and he pushes his hand in your hair at the back of your head. You look up, and he leans in for a kiss. This one is heated, but still slow, he opens your mouth with his tongue, and you moan. Your hands blindly find his buckle, and you unclasp it, pulling the belt out completely. There are buttons on his trousers, and you deftly open them. And then you halt, and looking down shyly you run the pulps of your fingers on his skin above the waist on his trousers. "We will have to be careful. I am not certain my body is completely ready..."
His lips gently press on the arch of your neck, and he brushes his nose to the skin there. It immediately covers in goosebumps. "We have nowhere to rush..." You chuckle and push your hand down the waist of his trousers, pressing your palm over his hipbone.
"We hardly have two hours before it is time to nurse your son again, Thorin. You might want to hurry up," you look at him from under your lashes, with a tentative flirtiness.
He pulls you in another kiss and chuckles as well, "I have not bedded a woman for five moons, I will not need much time."
You laugh and murmur, "The first time perhaps, but when did you stop after the first time?" And then you finally indulge in something you have craved for so long. Your mouth slides from his mouth, and you slightly bite into his beard covered jaw. The coarse black whiskers scrape on your teeth, and you moan. Your hands find his ears, and you firmly rub the helices in your fingers. He rumbles again and pushes you on the bed. You fall backwards into the pillows, and you eyes hungrily fall on the bulge on his trousers. You look up and meet his eyes. They are burning, and he cocks one brow.
"Tick tock, tick tock..." You sing-song, and he guffaws. And pushes his trousers down his hips. You choke on your laughter and gulp. Somehow this part was so easy when you two came together in the inn in Dale. You both craved it so much so you just leaped ahead without much consideration. At the moment the view of his member makes you very alarmed. Will it impale you and render incapable of walking properly for a few weeks?
He quickly shakes his trousers off and stretches on the bed near you on his stomach. His scorching palm lies on your middle, and he gently strokes. "What would you like to do now, my heart?" It is not bedroom talk, he is sincerely asking. You move closer and slightly roll him so you could press into him flush. His member presses onto your stomach, hot and smooth, and you suddenly do not feel anxious anymore. You just want him inside you. But then a thought comes.
"You could help me… Prepare me..." You stroke his beard, and he is looking at you attentively. "With your fingers..." He smiles slightly and nods. He rolls you on your back and places his hands on your knees. With your eyes locked, he spreads them and goes down on his elbows between them. And then his eyes fall on your curls. You squeeze your eyes shut, otherwise you will be staring at his face in ridiculous attempts to understand what it looks like for him and agonizing over what he could possibly be thinking at the moment.
And then you feel his warm lips pressed to your folds. You yelp and jump up. You are staring at him aghast, and he is chuckling. "But..." He has never performed such acts on you. As you had found out in a conversation with one of your Dwarven lady friends many years ago, Dwarven males do not indulge in oral pleasures of such sort, leaving such acts to women. And then a painfully jealous thought comes that he lied to you, and he had indeed taken a mistress in those years who taught him some new tricks.
"Is it not how it is done?" He is still chortling. "I am obviously basing my actions on intuition, but to be honest, I have always wanted to try..." His eyes are on your center again, and you scold yourself for absurd jealousy. He leans in again, and you close your eyes again.
First his warm lips, and then the tips of his fingers brush your folds, and you take short breaths in. He then covers your center with his mouth and you feel the tip of his tongue stroke your clit. You cry out, unable to control yourself, your hands clenching on the sheets. He hums and suddenly runs his tense tongue up and down your flesh. You emit a squeal and try to move away from him, panting loudly.
"That is not how… Oh Maiar, help me..." You open your eyes and meet his merry eyes. You momentarily think that the old Thorin would immediately look defensive and irritated. At the moment the Dwarf between your legs is just calmly waiting for you to elaborate. "It is too much… Too good… Could you proceed slower? Please?" He chuckles and nods. You return to the same spot on the sheets and feel the tips of his fingers gently start moving on your folds, studying them and spreading your juices on them. And then he tenderly and slowly licks firstly one side of your folds, and then another.
You moan and hear him whisper, "Ninging." Flower. You gasp from the tenderness and reverence you hear in his tone and feel his finger gently prod your entrance. You open up your knees widely, and his digit slides into you. You arch in pleasure, from the feeling of fullness and connectedness, surprisingly new and potent, and then you shortly feel nervous. You already feel so filled... He slowly moves his finger in and out of you and closes his lips over your clit. It is the lightest of caresses, and you moan again and again, from the sweetest pleasure and from the love that you feel in his every stroke. His lips and his tongue move on you, and he gently switches to circular movement of his digit, stretching you. Your release is close, and you breathe out, "Stop, you need to stop..." He halts and carefully removes his finger. You open your eyes and look in his blue eyes, loving and earnest, "I want you, Thorin… Could you, please, take me now?"