A/N: My darlings, please consider supporting me on . You can donate as little as $1 a week, and I could pick up a couple fewer shifts in my bakery. I do my writing at night these days, and today I almost fell asleep near the bread oven. Seriously, it was so warm and cozy :)
Becoming a Patron gives you the access to some exclusive content. This week it's a teaser to a new version of Wren and John/Thorin, which I'm very excited about. You can see the cover on my Facebook page. It's called Thea Martin's Patented 5 Step Method to Seduce the Man of Your Dreams. It'll be fun :D
Wren screamed, some mental fire filled the room, and the smell of singed hair hit Thorin's nose.
"No, Benny, not her!" Clarisse's shrieky scream left him fucking half deaf, since the sicko was hanging on his neck, as if he was giving her a bloody piggy ride. He twirled, trying to shake her off, and to see what was going with Wren at the same time.
"Protego!" Thorin heard Wren shout, and Benny the Lizard flew back from her and thumped his back into a slimy wall. Thorin couldn't lie, that was a satisfying sound.
He himself had another lizard to take care of, but thankfully, the blonde psycho was about Wren's size, so titchy, and he pushed his arm behind himself, and grabbed her, twisted his torso, and propelled the mega bitch across the room. The semi-dragon, and seriously, fucking creepy, lunged again, and he was running in some sort of zigzags probably trying to avoid Wren's spells, but the funny thing was that Wren's ace proficiency in Charms wasn't Benny Boy's major problem.
His psycho twin was. She jumped at him, and hissed, and scratched and soon they were tangled on the floor. The scaly tail added to the mix made the whole picture fucking sick!
Thorin dashed to Wren who was standing by the wall, pointing Clarisse's wand at the two lizards wrestling on the floor. Now Thorin sussed out the smell. Half of Wren's barmy orange mop was gone, curls only covering her ear on the right side of her head.
At that moment Benny finally wrestled his sis into submission, meaning she slid along the dirty floor somewhere into the dark corner, and he jumped up, and boggled his mental yellow eyes, and hissed at Thorin, who instinctively shifted, shielding Wren.
"Benny, think about it!" Wren cried out. "It's an attempted murder! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You are seventeen, and it's not worth it!" The psycho hissed and the eyes shifted on Wren. "The Ministry knows we are here! Stop it right now!"
"Did you think I did not know this day would come? That a pack of canting mudbloods would come crawling back to the castle. I will burn you all and escape! I will roam the country, I will bring death and fire, I will..."
"Slugulus Eructo!" Wren suddenly screamed, and Benny the Lizard choked and spat the first little troop of slugs. And then some more.
"Wren! What?.." Thorin turned to his girlfriend, her cute nose, covered in dirt and grime, twitched in indignation, and he pointed at the bloke who was currently making sad croaking noises and spitting out new slugs. "You were supposed to incapacitate him. What's with the slugs?!"
"He singed my hair!" Wren shrieked in return, as if it explained anything. Probably some chick thing. "It was the only pretty thing about me! And it won't grow back! Not after dragon fire!"
"Are you mental?" he barked and walked up to her. "We are in mortal danger, and you care about your hair!"
"We are not in mortal danger! Look at this..." Wren pointed at Benny as well, searching for a good word.
"Slug?" Thorin supplied, and she snorted.
"My teeth are… glurp..." Benny bestowed the world with a new flock of slugs. "Razors. My wings… glurp… are hurricane… Glurp..."
"Oh do shut up!" Thorin threw over his shoulder, coming closer to Wren. "Are you alright, love?"
"I'm not! He singed my hair!" Wren suddenly sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Yeah, basically from a Valkyrie to an upset bairn in three seconds.
"Wren, I'm talking about bloody wounds and shite! Your hair is fine!" Thorin was losing patience. "Are you hurt?!"
"No..." she mumbled, and he pulled her in, turning both of them so he could keep an eye on the Slug.
Which was fortunate because it allowed him to see Clarisse's attempt to lunge at them. Which tragically failed once she slipped on one of her brother's creations and stretched on the floor with a pained yelp. Thorin was patting the back of his ginger, feeling almost disappointed. So much for heroic acts.
"Wren..." the blonde wailed from the floor, and Wren looked at her from around Thorin. "Please..."
"Oh common, Clarisse, I think we all know it's over."
Benny seemed to agree. He was sitting on the floor, another herd of slugs had just fallen out, and he nodded, glurping mournfully. Wren threw him a sympathetic look, clearly feeling sorry for the sod. But clearly not enough to cancel the curse. Thorin guessed the hair thing was a big bloody deal.
"We could have been so happy..." Clarisse announced in a tragic holler, and Wren rolled her eyes.
"I'm sure a nice therapist will explain to you why we couldn't have, Clarisse. And now, the candles, please." The tone was bloody haughty. Seriously, only Wren Leary could look like a bloody queen with goo and some other suspicious slime smeared all over her clock.
Clarisse dropped her head and muttered, "Accio candles!"
Nothing happened. Sod it, she didn't have a wand. Wren seemed to have arrived to the same conclusion. But giving the wand back to the psycho was out of the bloody question. Wren twitched her nose and then stretched her hand to Thorin.
"Give me the two way mirror, please. I sent Thea with the second one to your Da."
Thorin guffawed.
"Smart girl." He was so loved up with her, it was embarrassing! He decided one little kiss never harmed anyone, and grabbed the back of her head, and pulled her into a quick but fierce snog. Yep, still got it. Leary looked so dazed that she was almost cross-eyed and tried to lean back into a snog when he moved away.
"Wren..." he called softly, and she jerked away, and blushed. What a kitten.
She quickly scribbled a note into the mirror, and after that, they just sort of... stood there, waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Clarisse was pathetically sobbing on the floor, Benny was glurping, and Wren was trying to see her hair in the two way mirror.
"Enough fretting, Leary. Yeah, it's shorter, but it's not the end of the world," Thorin tried to reassure her, and she glared at him. He felt the glare more than actually seeing it. He was still watching the psychos. They might look like Flobberworms now, but these were the two people who released a fucking giant spider to roam the paintings, to say nothing of the lacerations of Mirkwood's body. Seriously, what did the blonde wimp do to them? Actually, he might as well ask.
"Hey, Clarisse! Hey!" He snapped his fingers trying to attract the blonde's attention, since she was glassy-eyed and... sluggish. All puns intended. "Clarisse, why did your brother mess up Mirkwood? Was that just to set me up, with the fake duel, or something personal as well?"
Clarisse finally managed to pick up her scattered marbles, and threw Thorin a hateful look. Seriously, totally off her trolley.
"He's Benny's ex, didn't you know?" Clarisse spat out. "I didn't have to even ask twice."
"Glurp..." Benny chimed in, with indignified choked noise, and Thorin shook his head. What a pair of sickos.
The cavalry arrived. His Dad, several Ministry workers, including Dwalin's older brother, Balin, all pressing cloths to their mouths, marched into the room and froze in the doors. Thorin didn't blame them. Quite a picture it probably was!
"Miss Leary, are you quite alright?" Thrain Durinson rushed to Wren. Way to sort out your priorities, Dad, Thorin thought, but secretly he was more than chuffed. He still would get grotty shivers from the memories of the convo with his Father. Given he wasn't actually "an imbecile who didn't see the chance to grow up into a decent man side by side with an excellent woman," and he'd just pretended to "ruin the relationship that could have become the sole most beneficial association in his life," and still he properly hated the expression his Dad had worn that day.
"I'm alright, thank you, sir." Wren smiled shyly, and her ickle hand found Thorin's. "All thanks to your son."
Seriously, that's why she was the fucking acest girlfriend in the world! He hadn't said anything but she of course knew how upset he was after the conversation with his Dad. And again, this whole 'damsel in distress' thing was twice as hard for her, with her feminist values and stuff. And still, look at her, she was as much as leaning on him weakly. Her theatrics were almost too much.
"Is it so?" Thrain Durinson asked, and Wren pressed into Thorin's side.
"He lured Clarisse here, and saved us." The lashes fluttered, and the breathy weak tone was so ace, that if Thorin himself hadn't seen the badarse alpha bitch mode she'd been in before, he'd believe she was trembling in gratitude towards her knight in shining fucking armour. "And I apologise for what had happened in the Great Hall. It was certainly rather inappropriate, and put your family into the spotlight, but we had to create the illusion that our relationship had been affected by the Smaug twins' intrigues."
And Merlin's your uncle. Blimey, she was good. Thrain Durinson added two and two in his head, and turned to his son.
"Congratulations, son." Would you look at that? Outstretched hand and a warm look. As if Thorin wasn't "the perfect example of how disappointing seventeen year old boys could be." "And I apologise for misjudging you. I should have trusted you."
Thorin shook the hand, pressing Wren into himself with another arm.
"Thank you, sir. And apology accepted."
"I don't think it is quite my area of expertise," the voice of Balin Fundinson came from the wall, his words interrupted with another sad glurp. "I'm, as you know, a dragonologist. Here, I think, we need a healer."
"Glurp..."
Thorin saw Wren wrinkle her nose. The Smaugs were escorted out of the room, Clarisse still trying to catch Wren's eyes, Benny sadly pressing a bucket for his slugs to his chest, the corridor outside clean of poisonous smoke now, and Thorin followed them, still with Wren by his side. They were let go back to the dorms to take shower, and after that they were to meet in the Headmaster's office to give their evidences. Thorin would prefer to be done with that as fast as possible. He had a round mattress to visit and a ginger to shag until all she could do was weakly mewl out his name.
Which he only got a chance to do after hours. First, there was a lot of telling and retelling what had happened, then they were fed dinner in the Headmaster's office, since they missed the school dinner. The view of freshly washed Leary, her cheeks rosy, fluffy hair pinned up, the aroma of lilacs in the air, and her merry vigorous noshing, were driving him bonkers. He had to very industriously think about slugs and scaly semi-dragons to rein his raging wood, and seriously, worked only that well. The soft hoodie and PJ bottoms she was wearing weren't helping fuck.
Then they were leaving the office, and he was making faces to her, clearly stating where she was to take her delicious bum as soon as no one could see her, because he was dying here, for fuck sake! But Martin suddenly appeared from around the corner and threw herself on Wren's neck with a deafening squee. By the way, it turned out that Wren'd spoken to her right after the big show in the Great Hall, and Martin was in the know about the whole thing, because according to Wren, "she had to apologise to Thea for putting her in this position," and they kept distance, but apparently Martin had really helped Wren through the Amortentia poisoning. Which Thorin was very grateful for, so he didn't even grumble much when Martin decided to steal his ginger. Well, maybe a bit. OK, he might have been glaring at them, but Wren made sad eyes at him, and he never could say 'no' to her anyroad. So the chicks left together, towards the Ravenclaw tower, and Thorin sent a message to Wren's mirror that if she didn't come in the next hour, he'd come and bonk her in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room, no matter who'd be watching. She sent him a picture of a slug sticking its tongue out with a very sarcastic facial expression. Damn her artistic talent.
He'd been pacing the prefect bathroom for half an hour already, when the door opened, just a crack, and she finally slid in.
Well, hello! Thorin's cock joined the greeting, waving happily. Seriously, that couldn't be called a twitch even, it was bloody trying to crawl out of his bottoms. She was smiling to him, lips red, eyes shiny, and he was barmy about her wide mouth, and he rushed to her.
"I wasn't sure you'd get here. I still have your ring..." she started saying, but he seriously didn't care. Three weeks without Leary supplement?! He was bloody dying!
She jumped away from him, with a throaty laugh, and apparently someone was in the mood just like him. Her eyes were dark, and she licked her lips. The robe fell on the floor, and hell yeah, the yellow PJs of shag! Bless her!
"Thorin, we need to talk..."
He growled and grabbed her. Whooooosh, precision acquired in Quidditch, and his Golden Snitch was in the middle of the mattress. Laughing and dangling her feet in the air. Ace!
He lunged at her, and she roared with laughter, and rolled away, and he smacked into empty space. Oh no, you didn't!.. One fast leap, and she was under him.
"Leary, I'm in pain..." he whined, already pushing his bottoms down. Common, common, really needed his ginger now! "Can your talk wait?"
"It's a small thing," she smiled, while wiggling under him - so fucking stimulating! - liberating her perky backside of her own bottoms. Oh yes, please! He was so fucking grateful for this!
He jerked the tee off and threw it behind him. Hers followed in a jiffy.
"Last chance to talk, Leary," he gritted through his teeth, and she bit her bottom lip flirtily. OK, that was the last drop!
Snog!
"Mhm… Thorin… talk..."
Seriously?! They were bleeding naked, on their mattress, all spells in place, and hello, that's not a wand poking her the thigh!
"What?!" he snarled at her, pushing her knees apart.
"Can you please talk to Bofur tomorrow, and explain to him that Thea was working with us, and that she hasn't done anything wrong, and..."
"Yes! Fucking yes to anything right now!" he roared, and she laughed, and pushed his pelvis down digging her adorbs heels into his buttocks.
"Then you may proceed." Seriously?!
"Oh don't mind if I do," he growled. "I'll proceed until you can't remember your name."
And he did.
That's all, folks!
Well, not really :) There will be an epilogue, and Part 3!
Thorin, Wren, and Co. are going to Egypt for hols after exams and entrance tests to their respectful programs in Auror and Healer training. The mini-Durinsons, Bofur and Thea, and maybe a mummy will make their appearance, and the main question asked will be how high will Thorin's heart rate jump when presented with the view of a bikini-clad Leary? :)
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My book on Amazon!
CONVINCE ME THE WINTER IS OVER
{my first novel
inspired by the story initially written here}
Available on Amazon in Kindle and Paper!
Summary:
Renee Miller is a reclusive web designer who, after several hours of delirium from flu, wakes up to find a stranger in boxer briefs standing in her bathroom.
John is an archaeologist who finds himself stuck in a stranger's flat in a snowstorm.
Frozen in her neat and clean world of highly functional anxieties and her history of childhood trauma, Renee is perhaps the worst possible host for her flatmate's boyfriend's colleague. Yet, while the fervent gush of life that is John Greaves disrupts her carefully guarded existence, Renee finds herself gradually yearning for more.
Is John the first breath of Spring in her frigid world?
