I meant to keep you waiting another week for this one, but, since it's my birthday and Bilbo's birthday and Frodo's birthday, I thought I would treat you all to a story.

Well, it's taken me more than 50 stories to get around to mentioning Thorin's tattoos. How very remiss of me! Time to make up for things and tell you where he has them and what they signify, I think.

.o00o.

All About Thorin….and Everyone Else

Thorin and the Tattoos

Pt I

"They're yours for life," grumbled Tauriel about her children, as she lay in bed early one morning in the crook of Thorin's arm. "Why can't we just give them away?"

"What's happened now, my love?" laughed Thorin, giving his wife a comforting squeeze.

"I've had a row with Arion," she grimaced, turning in the dwarf's powerful arm and snuggling up to him.

"Oh dear," commiserated Thorin, trying to sound interested but finding Tauriel's body, all warm and soft against his own, rather distracting. "What about?"

The elf placed a finger on the elaborate tattoo that rippled artistically across his shoulder and then plunged in a fascinating way down towards his biceps, doing a sinuous dance as he moved. It covered both shoulders and disappeared behind his neck to wind its way across his back.

"Tattoos," she sighed.

Thorin's eyes brightened. "He wants a tattoo, does he?" he said, looking pleased. They were a feature of masculine, dwarven culture and he was delighted that his son wanted to join the club. "So, what's the problem?"

"Oh, I knew it would be no use talking to you," she grumbled, sitting up and reaching for her robe.

"Hey!" he grunted, pulling her back down upon the pillow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," she mumbled against his chest, "you dwarves obviously stick together: what we elves might call self-mutilation, you dwarves call artistic expression. But, my son's not a dwarf – he's half-elven."

"And half-dwarven too!" snapped Thorin, beginning to feel a bit annoyed. "Tattoos are part of what he is and if he wants one, who are you to say he can't have one? He's a married man, after all."

"I'm his mother," said Tauriel rather tetchily, "and I shall always be his mother. Why can't I voice an opinion when it comes to something as important as this?"

"But, what's so important?!" exclaimed her husband. "It's only a tattoo we're talking about, for goodness' sake. He's not exactly suggesting that he cut off a hand!"

Tauriel pulled herself away and sat up in bed. "You just don't understand, do you? It's associative. Dwarves wear tattoos and elves don't. Dwarves wear earrings - and elves don't. I was quite upset when he persuaded Mary Sue to pierce his ear with a darning-needle so that he could wear one of your gold earrings. But, at least an earring can be removed. A tattoo can't."

Thorin lay on his pillow looking up at her with his mouth open. "Are you saying, after all these years, that you find my tattoos repugnant?"

Tauriel wrinkled her nose and thought about it. "Well, umm, no," she finally said. "I suppose I find them quite sexy." And she bent to kiss the one shaped like a bracelet just above his elbow and ran her finger slowly along the line of dwarven script that arced in a curve below his navel.

Thorin twitched and then said angrily: "So, you enjoy them but you'd deprive Mary Sue of the same pleasure. By Mahal, why?!"

"It's the principal of the thing," she pondered, still tracing the patterns. "Elves find the concept repugnant - even if I've come to accept them as far as you're concerned. They suit you because you're a dwarf and so they look right – and you've always had them. But, I must admit that I was a little shocked when I first saw you naked. However, Arion doesn't look like a dwarf and so it just seems totally wrong to me. And, what if, after he has had it done, he changes his mind? It's too late then."

"There are many things one does that one may regret later," muttered Thorin. "It's called 'living'. And this is such a small thing – scarcely worth arguing about. And nothing will happen, anyway, until Arion writes a story about it."

"So, let's get our foot in the door first," said Tauriel. "You write a story, Thorin. But you'd better make sure that it's one I shall be happy with."

With a sigh, the dwarf pulled himself from the bed and stomped to the dining-room. There he opened the laptop and typed:

Thorin and the Tattoos

When Arion told Mary Sue about his idea, she was a bit taken aback and thought for a long time before replying: "Well, it's not quite the same as wanting an earring and even that was bad enough."

She remembered how Arion had shown her a beautifully crafted gold earring some months after her arrival in the Undying Lands. "Where's the other one?" she had asked, hoping it was a present for her.

He had laughed. "There isn't another one. It's a dwarven earring, given me by my father, and I want to wear it."

"So, wear it," she had said. But, the problem was, he had no piercing.

"I could ask my father to do it, I suppose," he continued, "but then my mother would find out and she would oppose the idea."

"Why on earth would she do that?" she had asked in surprise. A number of her male friends back in her own world wore single earrings and it was no big deal.

"Well, it's very associative with dwarven culture and the elves see it as barbaric."

Mary Sue was all for shocking stuffy people. "You don't have to wear it in your ear where everyone can see it and disapprove of it," she giggled. "You could wear it through a nipple or perhaps your navel – and then you could repulse everyone when you took off your clothes to go swimming."

They both had a good laugh at the thought of that and spent an amusing hour discussing where the ring could go for maximum shock effect.

"How about through the tongue?" she suggested at one point. "That's quite common in my world."

But, although dwarves pierced most parts of their bodies, this was a step too far for even Arion and he raised his eyebrows in horror.

Then they spent another hour discussing how best to go about it, if they were to do the piercing quietly between themselves. In the end, it was decided that a thick darning needle would do the job most efficiently.

So, where to place this ring? Arion winced at the thought of being pierced anywhere except through the ear, much to Mary Sue's disappointment, and so a cork was also found which could be placed behind the ear and give support as the needle went through.

Arion wasn't too sure how much he trusted Mary Sue to do the job safely and efficiently and it took a couple of days for him to gear himself up to what would most likely be a bit of an endurance test. "Baby," she teased him gently. "And when I think of all you went through as a soldier up at the outpost, fighting off those orcs."

"Well," muttered Arion in his own defence, "you're really pumped up when you fight and you don't feel anything when you're wounded. This requires me to sit down and willingly let myself be hurt."

But, in the end, he marched into the kitchen and announced: "Right! I'm ready for it!" And the deed was done.

When it came to it, the piercing lasted only a quick, almost pain-free second with only the smallest drop of blood being shed. And Arion was soon wearing his earring proudly. Mostly, it was hidden by his long, dark hair and it took Tauriel a few days before she noticed the glint of gold. Thorin whooped but Tauriel was annoyed. "Do you have to go out of your way to remind the locals how different you are from them?" she snapped.

"But father wears several rings and cuffs in his ears," protested Arion, "and none of the elves seem to mind."

"Well," his mother snorted, "that's because he's, you know, just….Thorin!" And that was all the explanation she could offer.

But, the fuss soon died down. Arion continued to wear his earring and no-one commented on it unless to ask him for a look out of curiosity.

.o00o.

Pt II

"You want WHAT?!" Mary Sue had exclaimed.

"A tattoo," muttered Arion rather sulkily at his wife's reaction.

Mary Sue stared and then started to laugh. "Your mother will never speak to you again."

"I've already broached it with her and she was none too pleased at the idea. But, I'm a grown man," he continued, grumpily kicking the table leg. "I can do what I like with my own body."

"Well," asked his wife, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him, "what if I found it repulsive and couldn't bear for you to touch me again?"

Arion looked startled. "DO you find tattoos repulsive?" he asked. "You were all for me having a piercing you-know-where, and if that's not repulsive then I don't know what is. Tattoos are works of art in comparison."

"I think it all depends on the sort of tattoo you want and where you want it," she said slowly.

"W-e-e-l-l…." He hesitated because he knew that what he wanted might be a lot to ask. "Would you mind one on my back?"

"Probably not," she said. "At least I couldn't normally see it there. Describe it to me."

Arion's eyes lit up and he began to wax lyrical. "Well, you remember how I told you how I fought off those three orcs when a whole band of them attacked the outpost – I think I'd like it commemorated."

"You mean, like in a sentence written in Khuzdul inside a decorative plaque or something? I could live with that."

"Umm, no. I'd like a pictorial representation." And he looked vaguely embarrassed. "It would cover my whole back."

"No!" gasped Mary Sue. "You mean, like a picture of you fighting the three orcs? How awful – and a bit arrogant too. And who would you get to do such a complicated thing anyway? The elves wouldn't do it and that leaves only Thorin and Gimli. I just wouldn't trust them."

"Well – er – I thought you could do it. You're so artistic and everything." This was true. Mary Sue was often to be found in Thorin's forge, working alongside him and finding an outlet for her creativity.

"But, if it took you two days before you allowed me to stick one needle through your ear, how do you think you'll cope with a million stabbings in your back?" And she rolled her eyes in disbelief.

But Arion did notice that she didn't reject the idea outright or deny her artistry. He even saw a little interested gleam appear. He would persuade her yet.

"I need ideas," she continued. "A picture covering your whole back is just not on as far as I'm concerned, but tell me what else you could have done."

He grinned. "I won't tell you, I'll show you – if he's willing. My father has a number of tattoos done in traditional dwarven patterns. He's never shown me properly but, perhaps if we ask nicely, he'll let us have a look."

"Why have you never seen them?" asked Mary Sue curiously. "Anyone would think he'd be proud of them and would be showing them off all the time."

"I think that ever since he married my mother," said Arion with a note of sadness in his voice, "and started mixing with elves, he has become a bit ashamed of them. They're usually covered up by his shirt and, when he works in the forge with a short-sleeved singlet on, he disguises the bracelet-style tattoos just above his elbows with real arm-rings."

"What a pity," exclaimed Mary Sue. "But does that mean that he will be too embarrassed to show us?"

"I don't think so," Arion replied. "I think he just may be rather pleased to show off a bit of dwarven design to someone who's interested."

.o00o.

Pt III

"Hello, you two," grinned Thorin as Mary Sue and Arion came into his home. "What do you want?"

"Why is it that you always suspect us of wanting something from you whenever we turn up?" asked Arion.

"Because it's usually true," said Tauriel as she came into the room with a pot of tea and a plate of cakes.

"Well, this time," sniffed Arion, "we've come to see father. In fact we want to see more of father than we normally see." And Mary Sue laughed.

"And what does that mean?" asked Tauriel suspiciously.

Arion gritted his teeth. After the row they had had together a few days earlier, he wished that his mother were off somewhere else so that he and Mary Sue could just have a few quiet words with Thorin on their own.

When he hesitated to answer her, the penny suddenly dropped. "You're here to talk with your father about tattoos, aren't you?" she asked sourly.

"Er, yes," answered her son, but since his father was looking very pleased, he had the courage to press on.

"If I decide to have a tattoo, father," he said, turning towards him, "Mary Sue might be willing to do it and she would like to see your tattoos so that she has some idea about what she has agreed to take on. And I would be interested to see them, too, because you always keep them covered up." And then he turned to Tauriel. "I don't know if you realise it, mother, but he's ashamed of them – and surely that's not right?"

Tauriel looked startled. "You're not really ashamed of them, are you, Thorin? I thought you took a great pride in your tattoos." And she reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

Thorin looked down and shuffled his feet a bit. "Well, if truth be told, I'm proud and ashamed in equal measure. In a purely dwarven culture, I'd be flaunting them all the time. I'd be marching around with my shirt off, even in winter." And he laughed. "But, living here amongst the elves, I've had some pretty strange looks when the odd elf has glimpsed my tattoos and it makes me want to keep them covered up."

Tauriel blinked. "I honestly didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, I don't mind with some people. The hobbits and Gandalf are fine with them and Legolas has seen them but he has no problem because of Gimli, who's got a great selection of tattoos of his own. When I was digging Bilbo's hobbit hole the other day, for instance, and was stripped to the waist because it was so hot, Legolas turned up and didn't flinch, of course, but then Thranduil and Gimli came in search of him. Thranduil gave me such a look of disgust and even Gimli was disapproving because I was exposing my tattoos to elves. I was so annoyed that I kept my shirt off much longer than necessary, just to irritate them and make a point."

Tauriel looked upset and gave Thorin a hug. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was such a big issue for you. But, surely, if they have made your life uncomfortable here, you wouldn't want to wish the same thing on your son?"

"Isn't that up to me to decide?" asked Arion quietly. "Perhaps it's about time that father and I made a stand. If I have one done, I'm certainly not going to hide it away. And, the more that our elven friends and neighbours see them, the more they will find them acceptable. And who cares about Thranduil, anyway?" And they all laughed.

Then Mary Sue told them both about Arion's original idea and even Thorin looked appalled. "And, that's why we need to see Thorin's tattoos so that he knows what a real one looks like and so that we can get some ideas," she said.

Rather reluctantly, Thorin undid his buttons and removed his shirt. Mary Sue sighed. "You have a beautiful body, Thorin," she said. "What a magnificent canvas it makes. But, that's not to say," she added, hastily turning to Arion, "that yours isn't beautiful too. Like father, like son."

"I've got four of them," muttered Thorin rather shyly. "The elaborate one that runs from shoulder to shoulder; the two 'bracelets' on my arms and one you can't see properly at the moment because most of that one's below my navel." And he turned a bit pink.

"What lovely patterns!" exclaimed Mary Sue, as she examined the angular, dwarven style.

"They're not just patterns," said Thorin, pleased at her appreciation. "Some of it is Khuzdul and they all mean something. That's why we have them done – not just to create a pretty pattern but because they reflect something significant in our lives."

"I didn't know that either," said Tauriel and she was beginning to feel a bit ashamed that she had never asked Thorin to explain them before. And then she led them all to the sofas and made them sit down. "I think it's about time, Thorin, that you told us all about them."

.o00o.

The three family members sat around him, eyeing his tattoos with interest and Thorin suddenly felt very bashful.

"Well, my first one was the one across my shoulders. I had it done when I was quite a young dwarf, just reaching maturity."

"Wow!" said Mary Sue, studying the intricate and involved pattern that wound its way across his back, from shoulder to shoulder. "It's so elaborate. I can't believe you had it done first. It must have been very painful."

Thorin grimaced. "Yes, it was, but that was the whole point. We youngsters saw it as a rite of passage – an endurance test – and we were inordinately proud of the most elaborate ones that had caused us the most pain. However, although it's finished now, it wasn't at the time. I gave up after only the outline had been done."

Arion's eyes were wide. If his father hadn't managed to cope with the pain but had abandoned the idea before completion, then perhaps he wouldn't be able to cope either. "Did it hurt THAT much?" he asked.

Thorin gave a snort of laughter and then looked uncomfortable as he thought of that time, so long ago, and the memories came flooding back. "It wasn't because of the pain – it was because of my brother, Frerin." And his blue eyes darkened as he thought of that brother who was no more and he recalled the incident with the tattoo. Tauriel took his hand.

.o00o.

Pt IV

"No, it wasn't the pain," said Thorin again. "I expect you all know by now about my infatuation with the dwarf woman, Kagris. I was obsessed with her. However, she had no time for me but favoured Frerin, much to my brother's glee. There was a lot of rivalry between us and he loved getting one over me.

"Anyway, he found me being tattooed by an elderly dwarf – one of our experts – and he picked up the pattern that I had helped to design before I could stop him. He roared with laughter, screwed it up and threw it on the floor. 'You little fool,' he said. And then he walked, still laughing, from the room."

"Why was he laughing?" whispered Tauriel gently, still holding Thorin's hand.

Thorin sighed: the memory was very painful in more ways than one. "He was laughing because the design wasn't just a pattern but involved Kagris' Khuzdul name."

Tauriel dropped Thorin's hand and said indignantly: "So, are you telling me that I've been sleeping with Kagris around your neck all these years?" It seemed like an insult.

Thorin smiled wanly. "Of course you haven't. It was Frerin's scorn that stopped me before it was finished. It was completed some time later – I'll tell you all about it when we get there."

Mary Sue touched one of the bracelets. "Were these done next?"

"Yes," said Thorin. "That one on my right arm was done after the dragon came and we survivors became refugees. We stayed with Dain in the Iron Hills first but became tired of living off the generosity of our kin; that's when we set out for Ered Luin. But, I had that done as a reminder whilst we lived in the Iron Hills."

"A reminder of what?" asked Arion. "Of the dragon?"

"In part."

"And what does it signify?" asked Mary Sue, looking closely at the detail. "Are those Khuzdul words I can see?"

"Very perceptive," smiled Thorin. "Yes, it says: 'Never forgive. Never forget.'"

"I wouldn't have thought you needed a tattoo to remind you about Smaug," she said, frowning.

"Right again," the dwarf murmured. "But I was speaking about the elves. As we stumbled out of Erebor with the dragon at our backs, we had no food, no proper clothing, few weapons, no tools. All we had were the things we were wearing or carrying the moment the dragon came. And we were in a state of shock. We desperately needed help but the elves shut themselves away in Mirkwood and ignored us so that we were left to wander in the wilderness until we reached the Iron Hills. Perhaps they were afraid of Smaug but I think it might even have been a deliberate ploy to get rid of us forever from the area. We nearly died and they didn't care."

His audience sat in silence for a long time, Arion and Tauriel feeling ashamed of their elven blood. Then Tauriel reached out and held his hand again. "You may not have forgotten, Thorin, but you have forgiven. This is why tattoos are such a bad idea. You have them done for the wrong reasons and then regret them because you change."

"I shall never regret having that one done," said Thorin. "It reminds me that people and their attitudes are not set in stone. It's a message of hope."

"That's a nice way of looking at things," said Mary Sue. "And what about the other bracelet. Is that a message of hope too?"

"I suppose it's all according how you look at it," sighed Thorin. "It says: 'Beyond the Count of Grief'. It's how Balin summed up our losses at the Battle of Azanulbizar which was fought before the Gates of Moria against the orcs. I lost my brother and my grandfather; then my father went mad and disappeared. It seemed like the end of all things to me that day. And yet…here I am, years later, happy and contented. The dead are no longer beyond the count of grief because I can grieve for them all now…... and I often do."

They sat in silence again. So many dreadful things had happened in Thorin's life, far worse than had ever happened in their own. And yet he never whinged on about his suffering but just got on with things. Arion felt proud that Thorin was his father; Mary Sue felt uplifted that she had married into his family; and Tauriel hastily wiped away a surreptitious tear.

Mary Sue tried to drive away the sadness that had descended. "Come on, then, Thorin," she laughed. "Are you going to show us the one below your navel?" And she dug him in the ribs.

Thorin looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, it doesn't seem quite right to pull down my breeches in front of a young girl like you."

"But, it might help if you knew," she said, grinning, "that I have seen plenty of my male friends in Speedos back in my own world."

"Speedos?" he asked.

She laughed again. "Tight, skimpy bits of cloth fashioned into underpants that young men wear when they go swimming. They just about cover the genitals. And so I can't imagine that you merely lowering your breeches slightly will be more daring than that."

Reluctantly, Thorin undid his belt and then edged down his breeches so that they hung low on his hips, exposing the semi-circle of Khazdul script. They all studied it carefully but, since none of them knew Khuzdul, the words were meaningless.

"Is there another bitter story attached to that?" Arion asked carefully.

"No," replied his father. "That one makes me smile because it reminds me of my friends."

"So, what does it say?" asked Tauriel?

"'Loyalty, Honour and a Willing Heart'," said Thorin quietly. "When I called, they came, even when Dain of the Iron Hills would not. They were my companions and my brothers and they went bravely with me into the jaws of hell."

They all sat in silent contemplation once more and Tauriel and Arion remembered that rowdy, courageous, exceptional group of dwarves who had accompanied Thorin on his quest into the unknown.

Then: "That just leaves the 'Kagris' one on your shoulders, Thorin," Tauriel said tartly. "How was it eventually finished off?"

"With a woman's name, of course," he grinned.

Tauriel glared. "So, who is this mystery woman I know nothing about and who you've been carrying around with you all these years?"

"It's 'Tauriel', my love," he smiled. "Who else would it be?" And, as she stood open-mouthed, he took her in his arms and kissed her whilst the other two laughed and clapped.

"I had it done when you went off to Rivendell and I thought I would never see you again. Your name was the only thing I had left of you."

"Ohh….Thorin!" she cried, thumping him on the chest. "You stupid dwarf!" And she hugged him fiercely, then stood back and said: "Now, for goodness' sake, pull up those breeches and put on your shirt!" She dabbed her eyes a little as he did so, thought quietly for a moment and then said: "All right. If Arion wants a tattoo, I shan't oppose the idea." And there were cheers and hugs all round.

.o00o.

A week later, if anyone had walked past Arion's home, they would have heard a series of yelps, groans and exclamations. Mary Sue had taken lessons in the principles of tattooing from Thorin and then she had practised on a side of pork that was hanging in the pantry. "Are you sure about this?" she had asked Arion before she stuck the first needle in. He had nodded grimly…..and then the yelping began.

Mary Sue had sketched out some pretty simple designs and so, when all was agreed, they didn't take long to do.

.o00o.

"Are you ready for the revelation?" Mary Sue asked giggling as she stuck her head around Thorin's front door.

Tauriel pulled a face. "I hope I won't regret that I agreed to this," she said. But then she pushed Thorin to a seat and they both sat down, ready for the show. Mary Sue did a drum roll on the wooden table and then Arion entered with a dramatic swirl of his cloak.

"Well, I don't think you'll be upset by the first one, mother. It's very small."

"The first one?" groaned Tauriel. "There are more than one? Please help me through this, Thorin," she said and she closed her eyes.

"No, look, mother, look! You won't mind this, I promise!" And she opened her eyes to see his cloak on the floor and the buttons of his shirt being speedily undone. He turned around and pulled down the shirt from one shoulder and Tauriel half expected to see something elaborate and dramatic like Thorin's. Instead, she had to get to her feet and peer closely before she could see what it was. On Arion's shoulder blade was a tiny heart shape and, inside, in flowing elven script, were the letters 'MS'.

"It's for 'Mary Sue'!" crowed Mary Sue and gave the tattoo a smacking kiss. And the two of them collapsed into giggles.

"Very sweet, dear," said Tauriel, relieved that it was nothing worse. She could live with that. And the elven script was a nice touch.

"But, how about this one?" Arion added, stripping off his shirt completely.

Tauriel's heart sank. He had one of those very dwarven bracelets just above the elbow. She peered closely again. This time, the sentiment was in Khuzdul once more. "What does it say?" she asked. "I suppose it's some bloodthirsty war cry to remind you of your battles with the orcs – something like 'Khazâd ai-mênu! - The dwarves are upon you!' This was the only dwarvish phrase she knew – although she wasn't going to let her son know that she had learned it from Thorin when he had once thrown her playfully upon the bed and had then pounced laughingly on top of her.

"No, no!" chuckled Arion. "It's something more terrifying than that!" And his wife collapsed giggling again.

Then he took her hands tenderly in his own: "It says….." – and his voice was very gentle – "….it says 'Mother'." And he bent down gravely and kissed her on the forehead.

Tauriel stared wide-eyed for a moment and then she burst into tears. Thorin pulled her into his arms and they all had a group hug. The elf finally dried her eyes and said: "Now, at last, I understand the power of the tattoo. Thank you. I'm glad you had them done."

.o00o.

That night in bed, Tauriel was studying Thorin's tattoos more closely than she had ever done before. "I suppose they are quite beautiful – in a way," she said.

"And, of course," he grinned, "very, very sexy."

"Yes, we mustn't forget that aspect," she added, smiling seductively. And she began to kiss them one by one, just to show him how very, very sexy they indeed were.

"Ahh," sighed Thorin, as her lips trailed across his body, "what would a dwarf be without his tattoos?"

"A lot less satisfied, I should think," purred Tauriel as she turned off the light.

.o00o.

Next Story: Thorin and the Painting. The elves ask Thorin if he will pose for a large painting which they want to hang on the wall of the Moot Hall. That'll make his day, LOL! Or will it? Especially when he finds out exactly what scene in his life they want to commemorate.