Well, here's another of the new-style stories which hinge on the idea that the Oakenshields are now using their laptop to write their own chapters. My husband who reads a lot of SF and fantasy stories tut-tutted at this one. He enjoyed it but feels that I have not given the "rules" of this new concept, where two realities overlap, sufficient thought or explanation. I would agree but I didn't want to make the episode too laboured. So, I would like to ask you just to read and accept – and hopefully be amused by - what is going on without too much close analysis about how the whole thing "works". But, I'd really like to hear your opinion after you get to the end.

This one happens shortly after the arrival of our new character, Mary Sue. Lostwithiel has a secret, as we all know by now, and Poppy is determined to get to the bottom of it. How much grief will she bring to herself, to her husband and to Tauriel and Thorin by trying to resurrect things that might best be left alone?

.o00o.

ALL ABOUT THORIN…..AND EVERYONE ELSE

Thorin, Crime and Punishment

Pt I

Mary Sue and Arion had exchanged silver rings and had happily made up the double bed in Thorin's guest bedroom.

"We'll have to build our own house soon," said Poppy to her husband, as she brushed her golden curls in front of the bedroom mirror. They were in the gently swaying tree-house to which they had removed themselves in an act of generosity after Mary Sue's arrival.

"Mmm," said Lostwithiel the elf lord, not really listening. He was lying on top of the bed, propped up on one elbow and admiring his wife's delightful hair and the graceful movement of the brush.

"I'm like my father, really," continued Poppy. "I don't really like tree houses. I mean, the elves were very kind to let us have this one for the moment. And it's only just a short walk from the forge. But the constant swaying makes me feel a bit nauseous. Reminds me of the boat we took to Gondor."

"Mmm," said Lostwithiel again, wondering how much longer it would take his wife to stop chattering and come to bed.

"And speaking of Thorin…." She turned around with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

"We were?" asked the elf, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Don't think I'm going to let you wriggle out of things," she grinned, as she got up and crossed the room, waving the brush accusingly at him.

Lostwithiel blinked. "Wouldn't dream of it," he assured her. It seemed a safe thing to say when he hadn't the foggiest what she was going on about.

"Good," she said, "because it's about time you told me what went on between you and my mother that always makes my father look so angry with you." And she lay down beside him on the bed and dug him in the ribs with her brush.

The elf lord gulped. He had to admit that he was surprised that he had got away with this for so long. Admittedly, it had happened before she was born but his wife was amazingly alert to family gossip. She had been putting two and two together for years now and he only hoped she wasn't about to make four.

Poppy, meanwhile, was actually amused at the idea that her husband had, ages ago, had a crush on her mother and that her father had been annoyed and even jealous enough to beat up Lostwithiel because of it. Her sister, Rose, had told her about this incident but even Rose had only known a little about it because she and Arion had been staying with Aunt Dis at the time and weren't exactly witness to it. The two children had, however, seen the bruises that Thorin had turned up with, not all acquired during an orc attack they had discovered. But that's all that the children ever found out about the situation.

However, the topic had been raised yet again only a couple of days ago and her mother had snapped that it was none of her business. But, that made the whole affair even more intriguing. 'Thiel was easily manipulated and in the hiatus whilst they waited for someone to pick up the laptop and write their next story, Poppy felt she had plenty of time in which to worm the whole story out of her husband.

She ran a cool finger down his face, then down his neck to the top buttons of his shirt which she languidly began to undo. "Come on, 'Thiel. It must be hard keeping a secret for so long. You know I'll forgive you, whatever it was. Unburden yourself. Share it with me." She kissed him gently on the lips. "You know you want to," she whispered softly.

And, yes, he did want to. It had been a great burden to bear for such a long time. There was nothing that his wife didn't know about him – except this. And a confession trembled on his lips.

Poppy saw him wavering and grinned to herself. Her mother was such a beautiful woman that if someone had told Poppy that the whole of Middle-earth was in love with the elf woman, it wouldn't have surprised her. In fact, she was so proud of Tauriel that she would just have assumed that it was her mother's due. She wasn't jealous. Whatever feelings 'Thiel might once have had for her were obviously long past. He loved his wife now and she felt complete confidence in that love. But she just couldn't leave the subject of 'Thiel's secret alone.

"Shall we make love?" she whispered and she took his ear lobe between her sharp, white teeth and tugged gently.

Lostwithiel shivered. "Yes, please," he muttered back, his voice shaky with desire.

"Well, fair exchange," she murmured. "Just tell me a teensy bit about you and my mother. Were you in love with her?"

"A bit," he gasped as she ran her hand inside his shirt. "She was very beautiful you know." And he decided that there was no harm in telling her a small part of the story.

Poppy undid a few more of his buttons until his shirt was open to the waist, then bent her head so that her lips lightly brushed his chest. "When did it all start?" she pressed. "When you both lived at Thranduil's palace in Mirkwood?"

"N-no," he stuttered, feeling for the buttons on her bodice. "It happened a lot later – when she became my captain up at the outpost."

Poppy held his wrist firmly and stopped his progress. "That's interesting," she murmured. "So, what was the trigger?"

"Sh-she married your father." He tried again for the buttons but she still held his hand trapped in her own.

"How very curious," she said, her brow wrinkling. "Why on earth should that make a difference to the way you felt about her?"

Suddenly, Lostwithiel felt that he had crossed a line and given his wife too much information. If only her nearness wasn't so distracting and then perhaps he could concentrate better. "Umm, well, you know: elf and dwarf, dwarf and elf. It wasn't exactly on."

Poppy sat up, suddenly feeling quite disturbed at the direction of the conversation. "But why should my mother being married to a dwarf make her seem more attractive?"

Lostwithiel knew he had said too much and bit his lip anxiously. The silence grew between them and the elf lord sat up too, looking away from his wife's penetrating stare.

Her lip began to tremble. "You know," she said, "for years I've always been amused at the thought of you and my mother and imagined that it must have been a bit of silliness – that you had fallen in love with her and had mooned around, worshipping her from afar. And then my jealous father found out and beat you up. I always felt sorry for you….But there was something more, wasn't there?"

The silence stretched out.

"You WILL tell me, 'Thiel," said Poppy. "There should be truth and honesty between us, not lies and deceit. For the sake of our marriage, I need to know."

Lostwithiel sighed. Perhaps she was right. If he told her the truth then there was a chance that she would understand and forgive him, just as Tauriel and even Thorin had done. Now that he had started, there seemed to be no turning back. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the bed head.

"It happened so long ago. How can you possibly understand what things were like back then – how we all responded to – certain situations? This is going to be very difficult. I'm not quite sure that I can explain to you how it all came about."

"Try me," she said, and her voice had such a steely edge that he felt forced to carry on. He felt very tired and, in a toneless voice, began to tell his wife about the most shameful incident in his entire life. She had asked for honesty and he tried to give it to her, travelling back in his mind's eye with as accurate an account as possible of times past.

"I know that things are still a bit – edgy – between elves and dwarves but, before you were born, it was an awful lot worse and the relationship amounted to hatred," he started. "Thorin always said that there were some things he could never forgive and some that he never forgot; but that's the way that most elves felt about our common history too." He grinned wanly. "You should have been there that night in the Grey Havens at Thranduil's mansion when your mother and father turned up and announced their betrothal – the ripples of shock and disgust that ran through the room were palpable."

Poppy looked angry and on the defensive. "But, surely you didn't feel that way?" she asked. "You're my father's friend."

"Not then," he continued tiredly. "I hated dwarves as much as anyone and a group of us got together that evening and tried to break up the betrothal."

Poppy gasped and threw him a look of disbelief.

"It didn't work, of course, and a year later, after they got married and Arion was born, your mother was asked to set up the outpost and I was appointed her second in command. She was absolutely wonderful – I think all the men fell in love with her a bit then – but I was the only one who knew she was married to a dwarf. I finally told them all, of course, and the men turned against her and treated her very badly."

"I knew nothing of this," whispered Poppy. "All my lovely friends – Lithin, Borondin and the rest – I can hardly believe it. You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

"Of course we're ashamed – now. But we weren't then. It seems like another world and another time where hatred and disgust were appropriate emotions . That's why it's difficult to explain."

"Go on," she said quietly and she took hold of his hand. Her touch reassured him and Lostwithiel continued.

"We were all talking behind her back. The relationship between your mother and father just seemed so wrong and we began to make quite – repugnant – remarks about why she would have married a dwarf in the first place. Somehow my little crush was turned into something unpleasantly – sexual." Poppy's hand tightened on his and the elf returned the pressure, hoping that she was understanding his explanation, even if only in a small way. It gave him the courage to press on.

"Borondin and I were on guard duty one night. I found myself outside your mother's open window – and I climbed through."

Poppy's breath caught in her throat. "What happened?" she asked and was afraid to hear the answer.

Lostwithiel had never been honest about the next bit, not even to himself and he was silent for a few minutes, trying to find the courage to say what needed to be said. "I tried to rape her," he finally muttered. Poppy let out a forceful gasp as if someone had punched her in the stomach and she pulled her fingers from his grasp. He turned to look at her. "She was too strong for me. She broke my nose." And he absentmindedly touched the small bump on his nose that was the only blemish to his beauty.

Poppy backed away from him across the bed and then stood, her eyes wide. "I don't know you, Lostwithiel," she finally said and she swayed a little on the spot.

"No, I don't know me from that time either," her husband concurred and his eyes pleaded with her. "Your mother forgave me immediately. And your father came to forgive me too. I love them both."

Poppy continued to stare at him in shock. "But, I can't forgive you," she said. "I shall never forgive you."

He tried to reason with her: "We need to talk about it. I've tried to be honest and now we need to talk."

But, she put her hand to her eyes and shook her head. "No, you are not the man I thought I had married. There is nothing to talk about. And now I want you to leave because I cannot bear to be in the same room as you."

He heard her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. Perhaps she would listen tomorrow. And so he picked up his things and left. Poppy stood for long moments staring into space after the door had shut quietly behind him and then she threw herself on the bed and wept.

.o00o.

Pt II

Lostwithiel stood outside the tree house for some minutes wondering where to go. In the end, he headed up the hill to seek the advice of his two best friends, Tauriel and Thorin. It was late and, when he got to the forge, most of the house was in darkness. But after he had quietly opened the front door, he found Tauriel in the living-room holding two cups of tea.

"'Thiel!" she said, immediately concerned. "What's happened? Where's Poppy?"

The elf lord sat down at the table and sighed. "I'm glad you're here, Tauriel. She's kicked me out and now I don't know what to do."

Tauriel put down the cups and sat next to him, an encouraging hand placed over his whilst Lostwithiel explained what had happened. She gave his hand a pat. "She'll be more sensible in the morning. You know how pragmatic my daughter is. I'll go and have a word with her tomorrow." And he gave her a grateful smile.

"Where's Thorin?" he asked. "I hope he won't be mad with me."

"He's down in the harbour town for a couple of nights, explaining to everyone there about the laptop and how we shall be writing our own stories from now on."

Then she nodded to the fireplace. "Rosie has moved her stuff from the fireside out to the stable now that Arion has moved into the guest bedroom with Mary Sue and I shall be sleeping out there tonight with her because she said she was feeling a bit under the weather." And she gestured to the two cups of tea. "So, you might as well sleep in my room, at least until Thorin comes back. Let's hope by then that Poppy will have got over this business."

And so Tauriel found herself changing sheets yet again, this time with Lostwithiel's grateful help; and soon the lamp on the dining room table had been turned down and everyone had retired to their beds.

.o00o.

Poppy, meanwhile, was unable to get to sleep. She lay wide awake in her bed with a whole succession of horrifying images running through her head as she thought about what her husband had tried to do to her mother. No wonder her father had tried to kill him! What she was finding difficult to understand was how her parents had decided to forgive him because she knew that she never would.

She felt so angry and her anger grew and heated to such a degree that, in the end, she couldn't lie in bed any longer but got up and dressed and then set out for the forge. She had to talk to her mother and she had to do it now, even if it meant waking her up. She vaguely remembered her father saying that he was thinking of going down to the harbour for a couple of days which might be just as well. If this was so, she could corner her parents one at a time. She wondered where her husband had gone. Not the forge, she decided. He would be too embarrassed to admit to her mother that he had revealed his dreadful secret to her. No, he would have gone down to the harbour and sought refuge there, she decided. Or perhaps, if he wanted to avoid her father, he was camping out in the nearby woods.

At the moment, she hated 'Thiel and wanted some kind of vengeful punishment to be inflicted on him. A punch on the nose from Thorin all those years ago was definitely not enough to satisfy her. When she got to the forge, the only light was from a solitary lamp on the dining-room table. And then she knew what she would do. Rather than wake up her mother, she got out the lap-top from its cupboard and began to type. She would write a story about her husband. Yes, that would fix him. And she would call it Crime and Punishment. She set out her title and then she began…..

Crime and Punishment

….In the early hours of the morning, Thorin toiled up the hill from the harbour. He hadn't intended to return home until the following day, but he had had a good chat with everyone and had then tried to get comfortable in one of the tree houses. He had failed, however. Tree houses were just not his thing and, after tossing and turning for a few hours, he had finally got dressed and had set out for home beneath the calm and soothing silvery beams of a crescent moon.

He grinned to himself as he walked. Tauriel would be pleased to see him, he thought. Well, he would definitely be pleased to see her. He hated spending time apart from her and was glad that his business down in the harbour had concluded so swiftly, even if it had been nice to socialise with so many old friends.

No lights shone from the house as he approached which was only to be expected since it was the middle of the night, but when he opened the front door, he found a table lamp faintly glowing which meant that he didn't have to stumble around in the dark.

Quietly, he took off his boots and then his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on a chair. Then he opened the door of his bedroom. There were no windows in the cave section of the house and so he left the door slightly ajar so that he didn't trip over anything. His grin grew more lupine as he saw Tauriel's golden hair, spread out on the pillow and gleaming faintly in the soft shaft of light from the dining room.

Carefully, he lifted the coverlet and slid beneath the sheets. The bed was warm and cosy after the coolness of the night air. Tauriel lay with her back towards him and he edged slowly towards her, thinking how surprised she was going to be. He touched her hair gently and let a few strands slide through his fingers. She stirred slightly and sighed in her sleep. Then he wrapped himself around her and slipped his hand about her waist…..

…And then he froze.

Lostwithiel turned sleepily in Thorin's arms, having happy dreams that Poppy had forgiven him. Still not awake, he bent forward and kissed her. But his dreams became uneasy as he sensed that something wasn't quite right. He opened one eye….. And froze.

Thorin was the first to react. "Lostwithiel!" he hissed. And then he leaped out of the bed and stumbled to the door whilst the elf sat there looking dazed and horrified.

His mind racing, the dwarf found his boots and thrust his feet into them. Where was Tauriel? Just then, the kitchen door opened, and there stood his wife, clutching two hot drinks, looking very beautiful but dishevelled – and guilty, he decided – dressed in a lovely silken robe which was hanging half open.

Thorin gave her one, deeply wounded glance and then, stuffing his clothes under his arm and with his head held high, he marched out of the house and disappeared into the night.

Lostwithiel came stumbling stark naked out of the bedroom, looking wildly around for the dwarf. Tauriel rolled her eyes. She was surrounded by men without their clothes on and it was no longer funny. "Oh, for goodness' sake," she snapped at the elf lord. "Get dressed!" And she turned on her heel, went back into the kitchen and slapped down her two mugs in exasperation. Rosie, feeling rather unwell out in the stable, would certainly not be getting the comforting mug of camomile tea she had promised her any time soon.

By the time she came out of the kitchen, Lostwithiel had re-emerged from the bedroom. He had flung on some clothes and was hopping on one foot trying to get a boot on. He looked wild-eyed and despairing.

"He got into bed, Tauriel, and thought I was you!" he gasped. "And I was dreaming that he was Poppy and….and….I kissed him!" And he stared at her in horror. Tauriel stared back at him for a moment and then she burst into hysterical laughter.

"'Thiel," she choked, "if this wasn't all so horribly awful then it would be the funniest thing I've experienced all year. By Eru, I wish I could have seen his face!" And she broke into hysterics again and sat down on a chair. "And the way he marched out of here with just his boots on…" And her laughter continued until Lostwithiel became quite worried and sat next to her with an arm around her heaving shoulders.

"Tauriel," he said tentatively. "Are you all right?"

"No," she gulped and she lay her head on his shoulder and wept. "You should have seen the look he gave me," she said. "And I can only guess at what must be going on in that stupid dwarf's head."

.o00o.

Pt III

(Poppy paused in her typing for a moment and bit a fingernail. She wanted to punish her husband but she was also punishing Thorin and Tauriel in the process. She hesitated to go on and wondered whether or not to delete what she had written so far. But, in the end, she decided that she was angry enough with her parents to involve them in her plot. After all, they had known about Lostwithiel and yet they hadn't warned her. Her mother had been quite enthusiastic – even pushy - when she had fallen in love with him; and her father, although he wasn't so keen, had gone up to the outpost and had enabled their betrothal by suggesting to the elf ways in which he and Poppy could reach a compromise. And not a single word had either of her parents said about this horrible incident which would certainly have affected her decision if only she had known. If she had known, she might have married Roger instead. And now, rather than living in this dull place out in the sticks, she would be a rich widow, enjoying a life of luxury in the Grey Havens.

In the end, Poppy decided that they deserved to be punished too and she carried on typing…..)

Thorin strode blindly down the hill for a short distance, trying not to think. And then he veered off into a nearby wood and put his clothes on. He stood there wondering what to do next and, feeling overwhelmed by confusion, finally slumped to the ground with his back to a tree.

He closed his eyes. Don't think, don't think, he told himself! You always go barking up the wrong tree when you think! But he couldn't stop his thoughts from wildly whirling about in his head.

His wife and his friend had not expected him back that night. And, when he had arrived home – unexpectedly – in the middle of the night – there was Lostwithiel, naked, in Thorin's bed and there was Tauriel, half-dressed, standing in the kitchen doorway, a hot drink in each hand. The elf lord must have thought he was Tauriel, returning to the bed, and he had turned and kissed him. Thorin passed the back of his hand across his lips with remembered disgust.

So, the question was: how long had this been going on for? And the obvious answer was: it had been going on forever.

He reckoned it could be traced right back to that incident up at the outpost. Tauriel had forgiven Lostwithiel so quickly and had persuaded him that he was being silly to hold a grudge against him. They had had a big argument about it and she had made him feel dwarvish in his jealousies, mean and inadequate. And, by Mahal, how inadequate had he felt when he had made odious comparisons between himself and the handsome, quick-witted elf lord!? And he began to wonder again, for the first time in years, why Tauriel had chosen him and not one of her own kind.

It seemed to Thorin that the elf lord had always haunted his dreams, even before he had known about the attack upon his wife: none of the other elves had affected him in this way and he had to conclude that he must have sensed that Lostwithiel was his only true rival. Even when he had mistakenly believed that his wife had run off with Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood had never entered his nightmares in the same way that Lostwithiel had done down the years. Thorin had always wondered why: perhaps he should have listened more closely to what his subconscious was trying to tell him.

After he had found out about the "incident", the thing that had tormented him the most was the thought that Tauriel had been in bed with such a beautiful creature as Lostwithiel – and, even if she had subsequently broken his nose and kicked him out, surely Thorin must have been the object of comparison in her head? Even I would have found the elf more attractive, snorted Thorin to himself, and I'm a dwarf! And a bloke!

Then there were those years and years which she had spent up at the outpost with Lostwithiel whilst he – all trusting and unsuspecting – looked after the children down in the forge. What a fool he had been! She had given signs that she wasn't perfectly satisfied with her married life, like the time when he had found her kissing Thurstan, a rider from Rohan. She had brushed off his anger and had told him not to be silly. And then she had taken him in her arms and everything had been forgotten.

How she must have missed her lover in recent years since they had arrived in the Undying Lands! He remembered how, every day, she would scan the horizon for a ship from the Grey Havens and, every time a new one arrived, she had been first down to the dock. And when he had finally arrived on the last ship, she had thrown her arms around him and had held him tightly to her breast! Why had he not guessed then? Thorin conveniently forgot at this moment that he, too, had embraced the elf lord and had held him tightly in his arms, overwhelmed with emotion as he was reunited with his old friend once more.

So, what was he to do now? If he returned in the morning, they were bound to beg for his forgiveness and he would doubtless give it to them. Life would carry on as before and he would always suspect that their relationship was continuing behind his back.

Thorin fingered his sword. Or, he thought, he could put an end to things now as he should have done years ago. He could return to the forge and run the elf through. But, they were in the Undying Lands and he wasn't quite sure that this would work.

Or, perhaps best of all, he could make his son-in-law an object of odium, rejected by his community and cast out by his wife (where was Poppy, by the way?) Yes, for an immortal being, this would be an eternal sentence. And Thorin got to his feet deciding that this was what he would do.

("Poppy!" gasped Tauriel. And the startled Poppy looked up to find her mother staring over her shoulder. "What on earth is this cruel story you're writing!? What on earth has your father ever done that you would want to put him through so much misery?"

Poppy tried to shut the laptop but her mother stayed her hand. "I believe, Poppy, you've got some explaining to do, don't you think?" she said severely and Poppy felt like a naughty little girl again, being caught out in some mischief.

She looked sullen. "He deserved it," she muttered. "You all deserve it!"

Tauriel sat down next to her daughter and took her by the shoulders. "Tell me," she commanded.

And so Poppy told her all about Lostwithiel's confession and the pain she had felt and the anger that she was still feeling for her husband and how this anger extended to both her mother and her father because they had never told her and had even encouraged her to marry him. When she had finished, she glared defiantly at her mother, daring her to tell her off. But Tauriel opened her arms and pulled her down upon her shoulder and kissed her hair. Poppy began to cry softly. "I've made such a mess of things, mother," she said. "Make it better."

And so, after she had dried her daughter's eyes, Tauriel sat up to the laptop. "My turn," she said with a smile. But she knew that mopping up her daughter's mess might prove a bit tricky.)

.o00o.

Pt IV

Thorin strapped his sword to his back and, with a determined look on his face, he climbed the hill once more to his forge. When he got to the front door, he flung it open without hesitation and strode inside. Tauriel stood before the fireplace on her own, her arms folded and with a rather grim look on her face. She looked as though she were expecting him. That was the trouble with his wife. She knew him really well and that was probably why she found it so easy to deceive and betray him.

"Where's Lostwithiel?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"Back in bed," she replied curtly.

"Waiting for you?" he sneered. But it hurt him to say it.

"Well, if he's waiting for anyone, it's likely to be Poppy," she said with a raised eyebrow. "He was in such a state after that debacle that I made him a sleeping draught and sent him back to our room."

The thought of the elf asleep in their marital bed was a very disturbing one for Thorin and he couldn't believe that Tauriel was showing no shame.

"So," he said, trying to take control of the situation, "how long has this been going on for?"

Tauriel gave a sigh of irritation. "Nothing has been going on, Thorin. It's all in your vivid imagination."

He faced her angrily, standing only a few inches away. "I'm not a fool," he growled. "I come home unexpectedly to find that elf in our bed and you swanning around half-dressed. It's been going on for years, hasn't it?" His vivid blue eyes blackened as he stared into her own, trying to read the truth in her response. He was expecting a violent row involving a whole string of denials. And so, she caught him on the back foot when she gently reached out a hand and tenderly ran it down one of his braids.

"I love your plaits," she whispered.

He stiffened. That gentle touch made him want to reach out and touch her face in return. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her. But he refused to respond to her game. Instead, he batted her fingers away. She looked hurt and Thorin felt cruel.

"So, where's Poppy?" he snarled. "What does she think of all this?" And he pointed to their bedroom door.

"I have no idea," she replied. "She managed to worm out of 'Thiel the whole story of that incident up at the outpost. She kicked him out and he came here to ask us for advice."

"Ah, yes," said Thorin triumphantly, "but he knew I wouldn't be here."

"Are you sure?" asked Tauriel. "I overheard you mentioning it to Poppy as she left, but can you be certain that she told her husband?"

"Yes – no – of course she did," the dwarf harrumphed. "That's why he came here. He knew he'd get some "comfort" from you whilst I was out of the way."

"Do you know," Tauriel mused, "I really feel like stamping my foot in frustration at the moment. But I might just kiss you instead." And she leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on his lips. And Thorin was annoyed with himself when he didn't jerk away but responded.

But, when the kiss was over, he glared at her and said: "You're so manipulative, Tauriel, but it won't work this time. I'm going to tell the whole community about Lostwithiel's attack on you and about your affair. Poppy will cast him off and all our friends will be so shocked that they won't have anything more to do with him."

He had taken a step backwards, away from her, but now she took a step forwards and closed the distance between them. Her face was so close to his own that he felt her breath upon him. An amused smile played about her lips. "And what about me, Thorin? Are you going to cast me off too?"

He hadn't thought that far. If he did cast her off, she would go and live with Lostwithiel and he couldn't bear the thought.

"No," he said with a self-righteous lift of his chin. "I shall need a housekeeper. You can stay on and look after me. And perhaps you can make up for all your betrayal over the years."

Tauriel was trying not to laugh. "And where is this housekeeper going to sleep?" she asked with a slight twitch of her lips.

Thorin opened his mouth and then closed it. There was a long pause. Then: "In my bed," he finally growled. Tauriel let out a ripple of laughter and Thorin felt as though she had caught him out in some way. "It's your punishment, not mine," he added angrily. "I don't see why I should suffer."

Tauriel suddenly looked very serious. "Have you the smallest idea how hurt I am that you have chosen to believe the worst of me? That, after all my years of loving you, my reward is total distrust? Perhaps you should go out to the stable and ask your granddaughter where I was sleeping tonight and if I was in the kitchen fetching us both a tea because she wasn't feeling very well. I gave Lostwithiel our bed because he had nowhere to go after his row with Poppy and I planned to sort out their married life in the morning. But it looks as though I can't even sort out my own."

Slowly, Thorin was taking in what Tauriel was saying and every word pierced him like a knife. She saw his face contort and she swiftly drew him into her arms. "It's all right," she said softly. "It's all over. I love you, and only you, and I know you love me." He held her tightly and buried his face in her neck. A torrent of apologies were about to pour from his lips but she placed her finger on his mouth. "There's no need," she said.

He wanted to sweep her up into his arms and carry her into their bedroom but he reflected with irritation that a wretched elf by the name of Lostwithiel occupied their bed. At that moment, the front door opened again and Poppy stood on the threshold. "Is he here?" she asked.

"Yes" smiled Tauriel. "He's in our bed. He's very upset, you know. He loves you, we love him and you, I guess, love him too. So, there's no problem, is there?" And she gave her daughter a hug. "I've given him a sleeping draught, but why don't you go and get into bed with him for a cuddle? You can talk things through when he wakes up in the morning." It seemed like a good idea and Poppy trotted off to the bedroom with a smile on her face.

Thorin grimaced. "So where do we sleep?" he asked.

"Down in the tree house, of course," replied his wife, "at least for one night."

.o00o.

The wind had risen and Thorin was clutching the edge of his mattress. "I hate tree houses," he said. "I can see me being tossed out of bed in the middle of the night if the branches continue to sway like this."

"Well, there's one way to prevent that," said Tauriel.

"Tell me," said Thorin.

"Well, first of all, you let go of that mattress, slip your arm around my waist and hold on to me instead. And then I do this…" And she twisted her fists about his braids. "And I hold on tight to you as well."

"And then," she whispered, "we kiss. And thus entwined together, I promise you that you will definitely not be thrown out of bed."

"Sounds like a plan," murmured Thorin as he swept his wife into his arms.

.o00o.