A/N: Seems as though you all like jealous!Thorin ;)

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I dream of your first kiss

And then I feel upon my lips again

A taste of honey

Tasting much sweeter than wine

-The Beatles


Sona nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Thorin's thumb lightly caress her knuckles, moving hotly back and forth across them as he led her toward the massive dining table. Her eyes fixed on their joined hands, but his fingers (and thumb), though pleasantly warm against her skin, lay still in her grasp.

Great. As if the hyper realistic fantasy dreams aren't bad enough, now my stupid crush on Thorin has me imagining things.

He led her to the long bench on the other side of the table, and sat her on the end allowing her ease of movement to and from the table. Though, as Thorin sat next to her, she realized it also meant that no one else could sit beside her either.

Maybe… no. No. Friends. He was very clear on that.

"Can I help with anything?" Sona asked while the other dwarves settled around the table.

"No, Honey, I have many helping paws." Beorn paused near her, now wearing a rough, homespun, sleeveless tunic. He was bearing a pitcher of fresh milk and filled the tankard before Sona with the creamy white liquid. "And you are my guest."

The emphasis on the word you was not lost on Sona, nor was the fact that Beorn seemed to have no qualms about allowing Bombur to cook, and Ori and Dori to serve out their food.

Sona remained quiet for most of breakfast while Beorn regaled them all with sad stories of how he knew who Azog the Defiler was… and Sona learned one of the many reasons why the pale orc was called the Defiler.

Though he did not go into detail of the torture wrought by the orc, the scars on Beorn's body and the fact that he was the last of his kind was enough for Sona.

She pushed her barely touch plate of fresh bread and honey away, appetite gone.

Seeing the movement, Thorin shot her a quick glance, concern in his eyes, but Sona only shook her head and then angled it back to Beorn, who was once again speaking.

"Honey tells me you are escorting her home. I assume you need to be there—wherever that may be—before the last days of autumn, and the weather turns too foul for travel."

Gandalf answered quickly, "Before Durin's Day, yes."

"You are running out of time." Beorn paused near Sona and eyed her untouched plate curiously. She was saved from answering by a familiar whine at her feet.

As she peeked under the table to discover pudgy little Peanut the Pug pawing at her legs, the group discussed the merits of taking the path through Mirkwood and the dangers that lay there—in particular, the elves themselves. According to Beorn they were not like their kin: less wise and more dangerous.

How sad, Sona thought. I was so looking forward to meeting Legolas. But, it's probably for the best. I've screwed things up in Arda enough already.

She pulled Peanut onto her lap, allowing him to settle in comfortably while she rubbed his silky soft ears. He gave a contented grunt of approval, as Beorn continued speaking.

"These lands are crawling with Orcs, their numbers are growing and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive."

Sona's hands stilled. She was horrified that she'd brought down Azog's wrath on this man. He then fixed his contemptuous gaze on Thorin, and Sona felt her ire prick.

"I don't like dwarves, they're greedy and blind." Beorn reached down to pick up a little white mouse that Dwalin had just shoved away from his plate. "Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own."

Sona's jaw tightened and she forced her hands to remain soft and gentle on Peanut. It was not the pug's fault Beorn was being a racist ass at the moment.

The skinchanger looked at Sona and his fierce face gentled as he gave her an unrestrained smile. Sona forced herself not to let her ire with Beorn show. Not yet, at least.

"But Orcs I hate more." He set the mouse down on the chess set Sona had admired before and then gave Sona his full attention, blatantly ignoring Thorin. "What do you need, Honey?"

Sona blinked in surprise… Thorin was leader of the company, not her. He should be answering. She shot him a panicked look, but all Thorin did was widen his eyes marginally and then flick his glance back toward the bear-man, his message clear: Answer him.

"Well, if it's not too much trouble—"

"It is not." Beorn made his way back around the table toward her, refilling empty tankards of milk that Sona belated realized the dwarves were all quietly draining while their eyes remained fixed on the interplay between her, Thorin, and Beorn.

This is not the kind of audience I like to have, Sona thought grumpily.

"—then I think we should stay here for at least a week, if not more, while injuries heal." She could sense Thorin stiffen beside her, and nearly groaned at his damnable pride.

Fine, I don't mind taking the fall here.

"I'm still not a hundred percent… I could use the rest, even if you are all ready to move."

Thorin turned slightly toward her at this, eyes quickly glancing her over, as if looking for some new or hidden injury she had not revealed to him.

"Plus," she continued, "by cutting through Mirkwood we'll save time—so long as we avoid any douchey elves." She could see this last bit brought the barest hint of a smile to Thorin's lips. "And for that we'll need ponies and fresh supplies."

Beorn was beside her now and Sona resumed rubbing Peanut's soft ears as the little pug snuggled even closer to her.

"Besides…" She looked up at Beorn and gave him a brilliant, full smile. "I can't leave Peanut yet. I'm only just getting to know him."

"It will be as you say." Beorn's smile spread broadly across his whiskered cheeks. He reached down to pat the pug's head and his massive hand easily encompassed Sona's in the process. "I will never deny you anything that is in my power to give."


Well, that happened.

Sona had no idea what she'd done to engender such generosity and solicitude from Beorn, but he was certainly earnest in his friendship.

A little too earnest for Sona's liking.

Later that day when Sona headed down to go bathe in the area Beorn had designated by the river for such things, he'd offered to take her down personally. When multiple protests on her part and explaining that she could find it quite easily on her own thankyouverymuch, did not work, she finally had to flat out say she needed some "alone time" for him to acquiesce.

"But I will not be far, should you need me," he'd added.

Which is totally not creepy at all.

Thankfully Sasha accompanied her, along with Smells the Flowers and Peanut, ensuring there was no way anyone would be able to sneak up on her while she bathed. Not that she thought Beorn would purposely do that, or any of the others… but accidents did sometimes happen.

Though, Sona found that now that she was alone, she did not want to be. Her thoughts and feelings were too crowded and jumbled for her mind, causing her head to ache.

While she did enjoy having the attentions of a man bestowed upon her, they were most certainly coming from the wrong one.

And why do I feel like there is only ONE right one at this point?

Sona frowned as she scrubbed at her hair in the chilly water. Her crush on Thorin was ridiculous—worse than any schoolgirl crush, and certainly not at all how things had gone with David (he'd chased her quite eagerly, much to her delight) or anyone else she'd dated for that matter. They'd always given her some indication of their attraction first, and if she was interested, she signaled back. She'd never had to chase anyone before.

But with Thorin…

She'd certainly allowed her physical attraction to him to grow into something more—and boy was there some serious attraction there… the things she would like to do to him…

She bit her lower lip, her hands stilling in her hair, as images flashed through her mind… images of Thorin hot and sweaty, like he was after a sparring session with Dwalin, only he was poised over her like he had been in the moment he'd pushed her out of the way of the warg…

Stop it! She was letting herself get carried away again. This… this is why this stupid crush is consuming you, pulling at you. Because you're letting it.

The worst part was it was going beyond simple lust and physical desires at this point.

Sona genuinely liked him.

Like… liked him liked him.

As if the way he always looked after his Company, ensuring their needs were met before ever attending to his own wasn't enough, the playful banter with Fíli and Kíli nearly killed her whenever she caught a glimpse of it. His smile came full and readily then, and he always had a laugh for Kíli, even when what the younger dwarf said was not all that funny.

Thorin was serious and attentive to Ori's chronicles of their journey, and always quick to compliment Bombur's cooking. The way he remained open to both Dwalin and Balin's advice and counsel, even when he truly did not want to hear it… well, not many, especially in his position, would surround themselves with people who wouldn't hesitate to tell them "No" when the need arose.

He was wise; he was generous; and he was kind.

"And definitely not interested in me." Sona muttered as she got out of the water and dried off, remembering his words on friendship from the night before. "At least, not like that."

The retrievers took this as their cue to jump in the water and play, while Peanut happily trotted along behind Sona once she was dressed in clean clothes. She hung her newly washed kurta over a bush to dry and was about to make her way back to the house and grab something to eat (her stomach had woken back up it seemed) when she heard faint strains of music.

Heedless of her actions, Sona walked toward it, through the low brush and sharp smelling aspens that lined the way. The tune became clearer and though it had been several months since she'd heard it, she quickly recognized it as the song the dwarves had sung at BagEnd, what seemed like ages ago.

The song that woke me up.

Thorin's rich baritone, accompanied by what she now realized was his harp, broke into her thoughts.

"Farewell we call to hearth and hall…"

There… she could see him now, just through the trees, only a few feet away, in profile, as he strummed his harp, twining a lovely harmony to the melody he sang.

"Though wind may blow and rain may fall…"

Sona just stared at the picturesque image of Thorin; eyes closed, singing and playing in solitude, and realized she could not disturb him. Not for anything would she ruin this one moment of peace he had claimed for himself.

Just as she turned to leave, his eyes opened and he snared her with his brilliant blue gaze.

"We must away ere break of day…"

Sona swallowed hard, feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. And yet… he had not stopped his song like he'd done back in Rivendell. Taking that as invitation enough, she made her way forward into the small clearing and settled herself on the grass, with Peanut immediately claiming her lap. She was a few feet away from Thorin while he remained perched atop a stump.

"Far over the wood and mountain tall…"

Sona closed her eyes and let the sound of his soothing baritone roll over her, until he sang no more, though he continued to play his harp.

"That's my first happy memory of Middle Earth," Sona murmured, eyes still closed, hands automatically petting Peanut's soft fur.

"This moment?" Thorin sounded surprised… and confused.

Sona's mouth quirked up into a soft smile. "No, back at the Shire… I fainted when I'd figured out where I was and who exactly was in the house before me." Peanut gave a contented snore as Sona patted his belly. "I was pulled to wakefulness by this song… by you—all of you—singing it."

Thorin did not immediately answer, so Sona cracked one eye open to sneak a peek at him.

He was backlit by the sun, still playing his beautifully carved travel harp, fingers dancing across it, head bent regally and soft hair framing his face. A thoughtful expression rested there, but Sona could also see lines of concern marring his brow, and once again felt as though she were intruding. Just as she needed alone time to think, and reflect, and play her guitar—

destroyed. But no, don't think about that now

—Thorin likely needed the same, and she'd invaded his solitude.

She got slowly to her feet, Peanut bundled in her arms. "Do you need to calm your mind?"

"Hmmm," Thorin rumbled neutrally, but continued to play. "Sometimes I play for the simple pleasure of it." He gave her a soft smile as he looked up at her, but it did not reach his eyes.

"You didn't answer my question."

"No." He looked back down at his harp. "I did not."

"Do you want me to leave?" No. Please say no. I don't want to leave. I want—

"No."

Sona blinked. Surprised and delighted… yet also perturbed by how that made her heart race as she settled back down near his booted feet.

He wants me to stay! Well… no, he didn't exactly say that. He just said he didn't want me to leave. It's not the same, but I'll take it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Thorin gave her a questioning sidelong look.

"You know… whatever it is that's bothering you." Sona looked away toward the river below as her fingers traced her way through the snoring pug's soft fur. "I can see it in your face. You're worried about… something."

"The quest weighs heavily on me."

"Oh, don't give me that." Sona waved a hand at him. "The quest always weighs heavily on you. You worry about a lot of things." She tapped her lips with one forefinger and then pointed at him. "This is something new. You're a bigger grump-muffin than usual. Have you been sleeping? Maybe I should see if I can find you more lavender—"

"I sleep." His response was short and crisp, clearly ending the conversation.

"I'm sorry I pushed." Sona looked down at Peanut as the pug shifted to get more comfortable in her lap. "I just want to help."

He didn't respond and just continued to play.

Sona resolved to save this moment—to keep it from becoming more awkward. He was trying to relax, and she would not make him think about things he clearly didn't want to worry about right now.

Smiling, she looked back up. "How did sparring with Dwalin go?" She cocked one eyebrow as she noticed his newly bruised cheek. "Were you distracted? He usually can't land a hit like that."

Thorin grumbled something under his breath and Sona pressed her lips together, trying to force her broadening smile away.

"Which reminds me… why did you and Dwalin both have black eyes while everyone was fine when I rejoined the Company after I fell?" Sona cocked her head to the side. "Did you guys run into some trouble?" She vaguely remembered something about goblins from the book, but couldn't be certain.

Then her jaw nearly dropped in surprise as a faint blush crept up Thorin's neck and his fingers momentarily stilled on the harp strings.

"No. No trouble."

When he didn't say anything else and merely resumed strumming his harp, Sona decided to leave off trying to force a conversation and just enjoy being with Thorin and the music he was creating.

She stretched out on her side, facing him, and pillowed her head in her arm as her hair fanned out behind her, drying in the warm sunlight. Peanut twirled around three times before snuggling in against her belly, and Sona gave a sigh of contentment.

Birds chirped merrily, Thorin continued to play, and she hummed along wordlessly with his melody.

Sona could get used to this.