Thorin laughed at the sight of the heady blush spilling on her cheeks. She truly thought he couldn't see the desire in her eyes! He'd known her body thrice the night before, and he now knew the signs: her lips half-opened, and she'd lick the plump bottom one; her fingers clenched and unclenched; and there was a small sound she'd make in her throat, greeting his efforts. And he'd kiss her neck and nip the sweet skin; and when he moved away, he'd hear a displeased moan. Indeed, his little hen was hardly proficient in hiding her lust. And now she looked embarrassed that he apparently had guessed!
"So shall we, my heart?" he murmured, and her nose twitched in a charming nervous tick.
"What?" she muttered, blushing even more furiously.
"Go to my bedchamber," he answered nonchalantly and then tilted his head, aimed, and placed a quick kiss on her burning ear.
And then just because she was such a treat he caught the earlobe between his teeth. And there it was, that little throaty groan of hers! Thorin smirked pleased with himself.
"We can't," she whined. "It's day time, and–"
"And what? Can such pleasures only happen at night?" He was feeling more and more jolly with each minute. "Are you a bat and not a hen at all?"
"Thorin!" she squeaked.
He guffawed.
"Someone will know!" she said.
"Someone does know. Many someone's." This time he decided it was the tip of her little nose he would kiss. He simply adored the golden freckles. "Have you forgotten, my love? You've been seen. It's causing quite a commotion in Erebor: a woman leaving the King's chambers at dawn. Everyone says it's lady Turith by the way, and–"
He stopped when he saw her face drop. She'd grown suddenly wan, her eyes widened, flooded by the black pupils.
"They say– they say it's lady Turith who's spent the night with you and is now as much as your wife?" she repeated.
He could see she was afflicted but he couldn't tell whether she was upset or angry.
"It's nothing," he said. She remained still and silent, and he gritted his teeth. He knew nothing of the intricacies of emotions - and wanted to know even less. He just wanted her to be as merry and free as a second ago. He didn't enjoy her frozen features and rigid body in his arms. "That's why we need to announce our betrothal–"
"Now," she said sharply. She then blinked, and her gaze focused on him. Her brows were drawn, and he saw her flare her nostrils. "We will announce it now."
"Oh?" he asked still not sure he understood her expression.
He looked - and he saw he was right. She was furious. She glared at him.
"How is it done?" she asked in a business like tone. "I want everyone to know right now it was me. I was the one who spent the night with you, and it's me who's gone through abkân with you!"
"Oh?" he repeated, and then he grinned. His little hen was being proprietary!
"How is it done, Thorin?"
She sounded irritated and imperious! She was demanding an answer! What a delight! He paused trying to choose between stalling some more to tease more of this authoritative tone out of her and pushing her on the floor and getting some taste of her bright red lips, pressed in a tense line at the moment…
...when a knock came to his door.
"My lord, you have a visitor," Vara's voice came from behind the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt–"
His little bookkeeper was so quick that when he realised she'd moved off his lap she was already in the opposite corner of his study. Her hands ran her hair and her dress, smoothing the disarray he'd created.
Thorin smirked, rose, and pulled at the hem of his doublet.
"What is it?" he called, and the door opened.
Vara stuck her head inside.
"Good day, Master Eorwyn," she said and turned to him again. "My lord, Mistress Algun is here to see you. She says it's an urgent matter." The girl gave him a pointed look. "She seems distressed," she added in a whisper.
Thorin threw a look at his bookkeeper, and she nodded.
"Please, invite her," Thorin said to Vara.
The door stayed half-open, and Thorin watched his bookkeeper once again check her hair and her dress.
The needlemaster walked in, and he too could see she was distressed.
"Good day, Mistress Algun," the bookkeeper croaked, and Algun whipped her head and stared at her.
"Oh… Good day." She turned to Thorin. "I haven't realised you were busy, my lord. I came to– It's a sensitive matter, you see."
"I'll give you privacy," the bookkeeper rushed to say before he could open his mouth. "As for those… papers we spoke of, my lord, I'll just return to my rooms to… work, and when you're free, please send for me, so we can… finish working on those papers."
Thorin had to press his jaws to stifle a laugh. She was such an appalling liar! Thankfully, the needlemaster was too distracted to even listen.
"Of course, please, do go work on those papers, Master Eorwyn," he said, his voice shaking from the stifled frolics.
She gave him a glare, and he raised one eyebrow. Oh the pleasures he was preparing for her in his mind! This defiant look became her so!
She gave him a bow, nodded to the needlemaster, and left quickly. He invited Mistress Algun to sit in a chair across from his desk and sat down.
"My lord, I came to ask for a favour," the needlemaster said, and Thorin forced himself to stop daydreaming of his little ginger's perky bottom.
He hadn't seen Mistress Algun in weeks, to think of it. He'd ordered the cloak for his little hen moons ago, and when he'd come to pick it up, the needlemaster was away. Her assistant had given him the package.
"What can I help you with, my lady?" he asked.
"You see, my lord, I've heard… rumours. I think the whole Erebor heard the rumours by now," she said. He watched her clench her hands into tight fists on her lap. "And they say it was Lady Turith, who..." She trailed away.
Thorin lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. Her face twisted anxiously. Thorin said nothing. He simply thought there was nothing to be said here.
"But it wasn't her, was it?" Mistress Algun continued. "I saw you two at the revels last night. Whatever anyone said, you are not infatuated with her. You and I, we are… acquainted a bit better than others. I– I know you better than others. You have no feelings towards her."
"Is there a point to your rhetoric, my lady?" Thorin asked growing irked.
"She's been disproving the rumours all day. She kept arguing with everyone. There was the fete at the market this morning, and every chatty Dwarven maiden tried to congratulate her... 'discreetly,'" she said sarcastically, "But she protested every time. So I say I'm right, and it wasn't her. And..." She drew a sharp breath. "I would like to ask you to say it was me."
"Pardon?" Thorin exclaimed. He expected anything but this!
"To be precise, I'll ask you not to argue when a new rumour spreads, the rumour that it was me. You made no announcement this morning, and it is Nadram after all. The perfect day to announce such joyful news." The needlemaster gave him an intense look. "So I assume you aren't prepared to make your association with that woman known yet. So, if a rumour spreads that it was me, even an unconfirmed one… They say the woman leaving your chamber was blonde… But if, say, someone lets it slip it was me, people will doubt. They will start guessing, asking… And it isn't that impossible to imagine. You and I had been betrothed, we had– we cared for each other. You found me attractive," she kept talking with a stubborn crinkle between her brows. "Is it that improbable that after a night of dancing and ale–"
"Are you mad?" he interrupted her.
She jerked her chin up.
"It would be only temporary, until you make your union with that woman known… Or until I find the solution to my problem. Or–" She suddenly looked worried, as if some sudden realization shook her. "Wait, are you not going to… are you not intending to make the name of that woman known?! Was it… illicit?"
Thorin's mind worked quickly. Were it someone else rather than the needlemaster he wouldn't have spared the nonsense a thought. But she was right, they had sincerely cared for each other. And now he saw she was in trouble - and once he applied his mind, he guessed what trouble it was.
"My lady, I will not be your accomplice in covering up your tryst with a married man," he deadpanned.
She gasped and grew sharply pale. Thorin shook his head. He just couldn't understand why the women in his life tended to think he was unobservant. He could read people's hearts and minds - and in case of his little bookkeeper, other organs as well. He just simply didn't bother most of the time.