Hi hi!
I have a treat (I hope!) for you in the second half of this chapter, which is heavily M. So yeah, a warning to those who may not want to read it.
As always, thank you so much for your continued interest in and support of this story. Many of you have been here since the beginning, so I'm especially happy for that. :)
Mariana Lestrange: Thank you! I hope this chapter is up to snuff, too. :)
Just4Me: Thorin really loses it now. You'll find Talaitha has also lost her cool. XD
Lady La-sara (MC): I'm thrilled that you think I have attention to detail, as that is by far the most difficult part of writing for me. I can't give away too much, but rest assured this will end differently than The Hobbit (book). Aww, well now you know how I feel every time I get a review! *hugs*
MugglebornPrincesa: I sort of took your suggestion. XD
kaia: I know, right (about the hair)? I wish I could braid like that. *wistful sigh* Actually, we need Thorin to braid our hair. XD
LianaDare8: As promised, dear. ;)
Sesshomaru's Babydoll: I cannibalize the trailers whenever I can. XD I'm sure my version of the BotFA would be better if we already had the trailer for it, lol. I actually do intend a few one-shots for Talarin once this story's finished; I have plans for them. :)
Disclaimer: Though I covet Thorin, I only own Talaitha. Sadly.
Enjoy! ;)
Chapter 36: A Remedy for Madness
One night while the Company was settling down to dinner, Kili, who had been outside gathering firewood, ran into the hall, looking alarmed.
"They're coming!" he exclaimed, clutching the branches.
"Who are, lad?" Balin asked calmly, nodding to Dwalin to take the firewood before Kili dropped it.
"The men of Lake Town. They're still far off, but from the number of torches they carry, their company is large."
"Dwalin, Glóin, barricade the door," Thorin barked. "The rest of you will remain inside until we know what their intentions are." He glanced pointedly at Talaitha, who had taken to stargazing, because, as she claimed, it was unnatural not to see the sky every day.
When the door had been sufficiently secured, they ate, though their usual banter had been replaced with a tense silence. If the people of Esgaroth wanted war, the Company knew they would fare poorly. But if they came for treasure, as Legolas had warned they would, Thorin's refusals to compromise might result in war anyway.
That night, the Company slept little and fitfully, listening for sounds of an attack. But they heard nothing, save for animals and Bombur's snores, the fat dwarf unsurprisingly being one of the few able to sleep. Talaitha tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position, and sighed in frustration. Knowing her attempts were futile, she stood, took a torch from the wall, and crept into the skeleton storage room. Unlike many people, Talaitha was unperturbed by bones and in fact felt a strange peace while with them. That was why she thought examining them would relax her and finally enable her to sleep.
But her solitude was interrupted when Thorin walked inside, tripping as he nearly stepped on a fibula.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered, turning her back to him as she crouched to get a closer look at a skull.
"I could ask you the same question," he replied, kneeling beside her. There was little room, so their shoulders and thighs touched.
"It bothers me that we don't know who these skeletons belonged to in life. They deserve better than unmarked graves."
Thorin smiled softly, pleased that she cared about his departed kin. It only reinforced his certainty that she would make a fine queen for his people, should it come to that.
"Aye, they do," he said. "But we will honor them no less, and they receive ample attention from a beautiful woman."
She finally looked at him, brow quirked in amusement. "I do not believe my attention matters to them either way."
"Perhaps not." Thorin took her hand and pressed a kiss upon her knuckles. "But it matters to me. Your compassion for others, for those who you have never known, refreshes me. I have lived so long only concerned about my own kin that I failed to see others."
"You had little choice," said Talaitha, leaning against him. "But you can change that now by being fair with Bard."
"I intend to be fair with him if he is fair with me."
She sighed softly and let the matter drop, knowing that he would only react negatively if she pushed him. He appeared to be free of the gold sickness for now, and that was more important than what would happen when the people of Lake Town arrived.
"Are you ready to sleep?" Thorin asked, feeling her breathing grow increasingly steadier.
Talaitha allowed him to help her stand. "I am."
"Come." He led her to an isolated section of the hall, where blankets were already spread out, and laid down beside her, smiling as she pillowed her head against his chest. With his arms around her, he fell asleep to the faint scent of lilacs and a sense of peace.
#
The morning dawned cold and dreary, a chill wind blowing from the north, as if heralding the disastrous encounter that everyone knew was a possibility. Thorin stood behind the wall with Fili, Kili, Balin, and Talaitha. He was unarmed, but he'd insisted both Kili and Talaitha bring their bows and arrows.
The group appeared in the valley, the men of Lake Town carrying a blue banner, while the fewer wood elves carried a green one. As the congregation neared, Thorin and his companions saw that Bard and Legolas led it, though Talaitha saw that the elf appeared less than pleased about it. She hoped he would be the voice of reason, for she knew neither Bard nor Thorin would be.
"You march upon the gates of Thorin son of Thráin, King under the Mountain, as if armed for war."
"We are not foes, Thorin, for even now, I am pleased to see the rumors of your death were false," said Bard. "But there is a matter we must discuss."
"I know this matter and will not discuss it. No man or elf has any claim to the treasure of my people. And your coming here outfitted for war turns you from friend to foe."
"Do not forget that my kindred aided you in your time of need, or that we slew the dragon." Bard's tone now had the same hard edge to it as Thorin's. "We are not robbers. We merely desire our due and agreed-upon recompense."
"I will not parley with armed men at my gate," said Thorin, his voice growing louder. "Nor at all with the elves you've brought along, who have even less claim to dwarvish gold!"
Legolas met Thorin's cold gaze and said calmly, "We come in support of the people of Esgaroth, as you well know. We do not desire your riches."
"Not so long ago, you and I respected one another, Thorin," said Bard. "Out of deference to that, we will give you time to reconsider."
"Your offer is futile," growled Thorin. "For I will not reconsider."
"Very well," said Bard, resigned. He nodded to a man beside him, who strode forward to address Thorin.
"We ask you a final time, Thorin son of Thráin, he who calls himself King under the Mountain. Deliver one-twelfth of Erebor's treasure unto Bard the Bowman, Girion's heir and the dragon-slayer, so that he may rebuild after Smaug's destruction. Do this, and you will remain a friend. Refuse, and you shall become a foe."
Thorin wrenched Kili's bow from his nephew's grasp and shot an arrow at the speaker with such force that it struck his shield and remained stuck there, quivering.
"My answer!"
Bard bowed his head. "Then I declare your mountain besieged. We will not raise arms against you and yours, but until you reconsider, no one leaves Erebor."
The rage in Thorin's eyes as he watched the elves and Lake men leave worried Talaitha, and she tried to coax the bow from his hands, in case he decided to fire more arrows. But Thorin merely thrust the weapon into her chest and stormed inside, leaving Bilbo and the dwarves on edge in his furious wake.
Talaitha immediately followed, but Dwalin rushed forward to take her elbow. "I wouldn't, lass."
"He cannot be left alone." She looked entreatingly at Balin, who nodded slowly.
"Aye, she's right, Brother," said the old dwarf. "Though I like it no more than you."
Bilbo ran over to her, taking her hand. "He's not himself," he said quietly, though Balin and Dwalin heard. "Be careful."
"I will be," she smiled.
#
Talaitha found Thorin sitting on a wooden chair with intricate designs carved into the legs and plush, burgundy velvet upholstery that nearly matched his tunic. He held a silver goblet of wine in his right hand and was staring unseeingly at the pile of gold before him. Though the room had been lit with candles, the area in which he sat was partly hidden in the shadows, giving Thorin's expression a dark, almost sinister appearance.
"You should not have come," he said tonelessly, not taking his gaze off the treasure.
"You knew I would."
"Aye, but you still should not have."
She moved in front of him, cutting off his view of the gold and exposing herself to his cold glare. "Have you forgotten that I now wear five of your hair beads? By your own words, that means you are mine, and although it's a bit too possessive for my taste, I suppose I'm not in Nemere, am I."
His gaze flicked from her hair to a glittering ruby at her feet. "Perhaps you should be."
"Yes, perhaps," Talaitha agreed with a sigh. She tried to quell the stab of pain in her heart that he'd dismissed her once again. "But I'm not. I'm here, spending the evening with a stubborn dwarf in a room I've grown to hate."
"I did not ask you to follow me."
"Of course you didn't," she replied, voice tinged with exasperation. "You're too proud, and that same pride has now earned you the enmity of your neighbors and condemned us to starvation."
"This gold belongs to the dwarves!" Thorin slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair. "My people are so scattered and splintered that without it, we are nothing."
"You hide behind your kin, using them to justify your obsession with the treasure and the Arkenstone," she shot back. "Your people need a leader, not a bit of shine!"
He regarded her calmly, but there was a hint of warning in his tone. "Tread with care, fairy. My fondness for you has its limits."
"Your loyalty to this Company, too, apparently, for you are willing to let us starve for the sake of wealth."
Even before she'd finished, she knew she'd overstepped her boundaries this time. Thorin stood and hurled his goblet across the room, where it crashed into the marble wall with a deafening clang and splattered its contents in a pool of red. He advanced on her, eyes blazing, expression so fierce that Talaitha took a step back. She expected him to grasp her arms, to shake her, hit her, or hurl her across the room, too.
But instead he kissed her, hard, nearly bruising her lips.
In her shock, she didn't react immediately, but once it registered that he was not hurting her, she kissed him back with equal roughness, taking his lower lip between her teeth and nipping it. His hands slid from her hips to grip her ass and pull her body flush against his, lifting her left leg to allow for closer, more intimate contact. Talaitha moaned into his mouth when her core rubbed against his growing erection, and his hands on her ass and thigh tightened at the sound.
His lips left hers to trail open-mouthed kisses, interspersed with light bites, down her neck until they reached the neckline of her blouse. Before she could unfasten her corset, his fingers were deftly working at the buckles and ties, and when the leather garment fell to the floor, Thorin lifted the mithril shirt over her head. Talaitha's hands rose to his mail, but he caught her wrists.
"Not tonight."
She glared at him and wrenched her wrists free, drawing forth an amused smirk on his lips. "You always were spirited."
"Yes, and look at where it's gotten me. I'm far from home, at the mercy of a once-exiled dwarf king with an unhealthy fondness for things that sparkle."
The smirk disappeared, and before she could react, he'd fisted his hands in the neckline of her blouse and ripped it down the middle. For a second, she was too stunned to do anything but stare at him wide-eyed and half-naked. But soon the chill touched her exposed skin, and she crossed her arms over her breasts, looking anywhere but at Thorin.
"It is not the gold that captivates me now," he said in a deep, silky voice that sent a shiver up her spine. "It is braids of copper and eyes like peridot." Thorin gently pulled her arms away from her chest and trailed a finger from the hollow of her throat to the top of her breeches. "It is skin like alabaster."
Whatever reply she'd formulated died in her throat when his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them and circling her nipples with his thumbs. Her breath hitched as he replaced a hand with his mouth, licking and suckling her breast, alternating between teeth, tongue, and lips to send a bolt of desire to her core.
Talaitha watched, transfixed, as he slowly knelt in front of her, leaving a trail of kisses from her breasts, over her belly, and along the skin above her breeches. Untying the laces, he pushed her pants and undergarment over her hips to pool at her feet and caressed her now-bare ass, his hands sliding slowly around to the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her, then, pale-blue irises eclipsed, while he stroked her vagina, smirking at the hitch in her breath and her sudden grip on his shoulders. His thumb found her clit, and as he parted her lips, his cock, straining against his breeches, twitched at the moisture already present there. When her heady scent became too enticing, his tongue darted out to taste her, eliciting a gasp and a tighter grip from Talaitha. His mouth closed over her to lick and suckle her clit, while he inserted first one finger, then two, until he sensed the change in her breathing that indicated her impending climax. He pulled away, receiving a sharp tug on his hair as punishment.
"You are no demure maiden, that I can already tell," he remarked with a snort.
"Did you expect me to be?" Though she was flushed and slightly breathless, she still managed to quirk a brow.
"No," he smirked. "Bend over with your hands on the chair."
"Wouldn't you rather fuck me on a pile of gold?" she quipped cheekily but nevertheless stepped out of her breeches and did as he instructed.
He unlaced his own breeches. "Don't tempt me."
Gripping her hip with one hand and his cock in the other, he repeatedly dragged the head along her slit. When it caught the edge of her opening, Talaitha instinctively pushed back her hips, but he moved away, teasing her. Finally, on the fourth stroke, he slipped inside her, pleased that he hadn't encountered her barrier, for taking a maiden would have required him to be more gentle than he cared to be at the moment.
It had been years since he'd had a woman, and as he bottomed out, he clenched his jaw, the sensations already intense enough that he risked spending himself prematurely. So he stilled for a moment, allowed them both to adjust. When she pushed back against him, he finally moved, pulling out until only the head remained and thrusting forcefully back in, drawing forth a cry from Talaitha and a groan from him. The way her smooth, hot, tight channel clenched around his cock dismissed whatever control he may have had, and, with one hand on her hip and the other fisted in her hair, he set a hard and fast pace.
Talaitha was in ecstasy every time his cockhead slid over that bundle of nerves within, and when his hand left her hair to rub her clit, she moaned and covered his hand with hers to press harder. He obliged and, if possible, fucked into her even harder and faster, until she came with a shuddering, gasping cry. A few more thrusts and Thorin followed, burying himself to the hilt with a feral groan. An arm encircled her hips to pull her tightly against him as he molded himself to her and rested his cheek on her back. Only once he was beginning to soften did Thorin pull out. Talaitha winced as she straightened and stretched her back; she would be feeling the consequences tomorrow, she knew.
Thorin watched her collect her clothes and dress, an affectionate gleam in his eyes. The sinister force that had possessed him was gone, though he knew it was only a matter of time before it returned. Yet he was grateful to Talaitha for drawing that poison from him once again. But how many more times would she be willing to do it? He frowned, considering the implications of both the gold sickness and her interventions. He had little control of himself while it consumed him-that fact was made unequivocally clear by tonight's events-, and as she smiled at him, he felt ashamed and nauseated by how animalistic their coupling had been.
Unsurprisingly, when Talaitha saw his dour expression, she accurately guessed his thoughts.
"It was the only way," she said, lifting a hand to his cheek. "You feel once more yourself, do you not?" Thorin nodded. "Then the sex served a dual purpose."
His chest tightened, and he placed a hand over hers. "I do not deserve you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You are surely a gift from Aulë, sent to save me."
"Or from Yavanna. She is our creator."
"And also the wife of our creator, Aulë," Thorin said, smiling softly. "It seems our meeting that night in Bag End was no mere coincidence."
Talaitha blushed, which he found endearing and puzzling, for only a few minutes ago, she'd been bent naked over a chair and hadn't batted an eyelash. But when he alluded, albeit vaguely, to a life together, she became the demure maiden they both knew she ordinarily wasn't.
"We should return to the others," she said finally, moving away.
But he pulled her back, enveloping her in a hug and resting his cheek on her head. "I am sorry for how I treated you earlier. It was abhorrent and uncalled for."
"I know you cannot help it," she said, relaxing against him.
"You are the only one who can abate this madness," he remarked. "Why is that?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's because of my healing gift." As she remembered Galadriel's parting words-thoughts?-, she understood their meaning at last; she had healed Thorin's body, and now she may also soothe his mind.
"Perhaps," he agreed. "Whatever the reason, I am grateful for it. And I am also thankful that you are here with me."
"Oh Thorin," she whispered, clutching his tunic. "There is nowhere I'd rather be."
And to her surprise, she realized it was the truth.