Thorin returned to his chamber and heavily sat on the bed. He pushed his boots off with a grunt, and then, just to give himself a small respite, he fell backwards and stretched on the bed. He could hear Nyr scuttling, banging, and clanking in the bathchamber, probably packing Thorin's bag with oils and soaps. They'd both been preoccupied all day, preparing for Thorin's journey. The old manservant had even volunteered to join him, but Thorin of course had refused him. They both knew it was no casual stroll. As much safer as the lands to the East were these days, due to the efforts of the Dwarves, the Elves, and the men of the Skinchanger, there were still dangers aplenty. There were bands of Orcs scattered between Mirkwood and the Mountains, and the crossing of the Great River could be perilous. The journey also had to be swift - Erebor couldn't be left without a King for long.
"Nyr!" Thorin called without lifting his head. "Send for my supper, would you?"
There was no answer, not even a pause in the noises from the other room, but Thorin knew the Dwarf had heard him, since the bell rang somewhere in the passages leading away from Thorin's bedchamber.
Thorin stretched and groaned. His back was stiff. He'd spent too many hours bent over his desk, preparing parchments and letters with Balin. Everything seemed to be taken care of, though. Thorin had even managed a short visit to the infirmary to see Dis. He cringed at the memory of her embarrassed mumbling and shifty eyes. Dwalin hadn't been present, meanwhile Dis' bed had been surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, all misty-eyed and... elated. Thorin had congratulated her, making sure to give her a long pointed look to make her squirm, and had promised her that Balin would take care of all the necessary contracts and papers. By the time Thorin were to return from his little excursion, the most dangerous time of the pregnancy would be over, and the loremasters could be invited. Thorin had explained little about the trip to Dis, he'd just claimed important state business that needed to be addressed. She'd hardly listened. She'd looked ill and tired, so he'd wished her the best of health and peaceful upcoming moons, and left.
"Nyr! Did you send for Master Eorwyn?" Thorin shouted again, still unwilling to move.
He'd done quite a lot of running around as well: the company of warriors needed to be assembled for the trip. It was fortunate they'd have Lord Ein with them, the man counted as five fighters. Thorin himself had recovered most of his previous strength and agility. He knew that the needlemaster was proficient with her sword, but his little bookkeeper had little skill. If attacked, he'd be free to fight if he knew she was protected. He'd chosen four Dwarves from the Erebor Guard, familiar to him, who'd, he knew, trained under Dwalin.
He heard the knock, as he assumed, into the door of his anteroom. Nyr opened, there was a short conversation, and then some clanking. It must have been a courtier with his tray. Thorin rose grudgingly and walked to the parlour, pulling off his doublet on the way.
"Nyr!" he called the servant, sitting down at the table. "Where are you, you old—"
A door banged somewhere in the back of his halls, and he grumbled. How hard was it to arrange his evening properly? He needed to eat, and he needed his bookkeeper. Why wasn't she at the table? They needed to repose early. They were leaving at dawn.
He lifted the lid off the tureen and threw the stew inside a wistful look. He'd eaten his midday meal as much as standing and talking. Where was his hen? Starting without her would be improper - but he was starving!
The door slowly opened, and Nyr shuffled into the room. He then slowly walked by Thorin, with a stack of his tunics in his hands, his face expressionless.
"Well?" Thorin barked and broke a piece of bread off. "Where's she?"
"Who, my lord?" Nyr's tone was as if distracted - and he had the nerve to head to Thorin's bedroom.
Thorin was certain that the Dwarf's nonchalance was purposeful and utterly fraudulent!
"Nyr..." he growled, and the manservant stopped at the bedroom door, his hand on the handle.
"Master Eorwyn sent a note earlier. She will join you, my lord, and your travel companions in the morning." Nyr sighed. "I took the liberty to send a response with detailed instructions where the company would be gathering and what Master Eorwyn should pack."
"You what?" Thorin barked and whipped his head to glare at the Dwarf. "Why didn't you go help her pack? And why isn't she coming now?"
Thorin bit into his bread with irritation. She didn't have to stay in her room! It was bare, and cold, and he needed her in his bed! They wouldn't have to hide their association after this trip. Everything would come to light, and they would finally announce their betrothal. He'd even hinted to Balin that while they were away, perhaps a marriage contract needed to be prepared. Surely, they wouldn't need to wait the traditional six moons of courtship. By then she could be with a child! They'd come back, sign the Indenture, and start wedding feasts, as quickly as it was barely proper.
"I simply report to my lord," Nyr answered bleakly. "The note is by your tray, my lord."
Before Thorin could say anything else, the Dwarf disappeared in the bedroom. Thorin threw the bread on his plate and picked up the little parchment roll.
My lord,
I assume you're quite preoccupied with the urgent matters that we had discussed earlier. I shall join you in the morning as decided.
With respect,
E.
That was it?! Thorin's eyebrows jumped up in irked surprise. He dropped the note onto the table, sat down, and jerked his tray towards him. It unpleasantly scraped at the table. He plated his supper and started chewing, grinding his teeth in vexation. He wasn't even sure what irritated him, but his mood was dark.
He then took a bath and venomously reminded Nyr to wake him up early. The manservant gave him a lowly bow accompanied by a barely concealed sarcastic glance. Thorin scoffed, climbed in his bed, and pulled the covers over himself. He simply couldn't understand why she'd stayed away. She'd be cold! She probably had no food in her room! And what if she slept late the next day? It would make so much sense to sleep together and then to go to the courtyard where their ponies would wait for them - again, together.
Sleep didn't come. The last few weeks he'd slept better than ever before in his life. He'd been suffering from insomnia and headaches that came with it since he was a youngling. After carnal pleasures, and in her company - he slept like a tot.
He turned and tossed, cursing under his breath, kicking off covers, and then pulling them over himself again. He told himself he was currently aggravated because it was simply unreasonable for her to stay away tonight. And now it was too late to send for her. Nyr had gone to bed already.
After another hour his temper rose even more, and he sat up, threw his legs off the bed, and stomped to a basin table in the corner of his bedchamber. He poured himself water from a pitcher and drank it greedily.
And then he saw the second door to his bedroom open slowly, just a crack. His first impulse was to grab the letter opener from the vanity bench, but the chances of the visitor being an assailant were quite low.
His little bookkeeper edged inside, her curly head appearing first, and then her whole small body slid into his room.
"Thorin?" she whispered, peering intently at his bed.
A mischievous idea to emit a 'boo!' and make her jump up like a startled cat came, but then he decided to spare her. She looked endlessly tense and uncomfortable already.
She took a cautious step in and tip-toed towards the bed. There was no light or fire in the room, so she couldn't see him standing by the wall to her left.
"Thorin?" she repeated. Surely, if he had been asleep, this tiny squeak wouldn't have woken him.
She approached the bed, climbed on it, picking up the hem of her cloak and something white and soft under it, and she crawled towards his bunched up covers and furs. Thorin pressed his lips stifling a laugh. She carefully touched the heap of quilts, and it gave in under her hand. She jerked the hand back and pressed it to her chest.
"Looking for something?" he asked quietly, and she emitted a loud shriek.
She floundered on the bed, and he guffawed.
"Thorin!" she shouted in indignation. "Why are you lurking in the dark?!"
"I am lurking?" he said, still laughing.
He stepped to the bed and looked her over in amusement. She was dishevelled, looked peeved - and he stood by his words from all those many moons ago - he simply adored the pout!
"You could have let me know you were awake!" She huffed an irritated exhale.
"And to miss the opportunity to watch you creep into my bed like a fox sneaking into a chicken coop?" He sat on the edge of the bed, stretching the anticipation of grabbing her and dragging her under his covers. "So, what brought this change of heart? I distinctly remember your note informing me we'd see each other in the morning."
She chewed her bottom lip and then sighed loudly.
"Well, I didn't come because I was upset, and I didn't want to… gripe," she said in a disgruntled voice. "Because you'd say it was all nonsense, and I'd feel that—" She shook her head. "No matter. But then I tried to sleep… and I couldn't. And Nyr said in his note that he'd leave the door unlocked for me."
Thorin mentally took all his grievances with the manservant back.
"So… You're upset, but your assumption is that my Dwarven skull is too thick to comprehend your ache, but you're here nonetheless," he summarised, chuckling.
She opened her mouth, no doubt, to protest and to reassure - but he was so happy to see her, and suddenly he felt sharply tired and he knew he'd sleep now, so he yawned with gusto, grabbed her ankle, and pulled her towards him. She made a croak like noise, and her palms pressed into his shoulders.
"Here's what we're going to do, my little hen," he murmured and kissed the tip of her nose.
She squinted and then leaned into him and pressed her forehead to his shoulder. She smelled so sweet, and he could feel her relax into him - and he felt almost dizzy from the delicious anticipation of slumber.
"We're going to sleep now, and you'll gripe tomorrow morning," he ordered and yawned again. "And I'll obviously understand nothing, and you can be stroppy about it… but for now, off with your cloak and dress, and in the bed you go."
She snorted into his shoulder, straightened up, and shook the cloak off her shoulders. There was no dress, just a long white nightgown.
"I'm not wearing a dress," she said, and he shook his head and laughed.
"You're lucky I'm so taxed, my sweet hen," he said. "Otherwise, I'd be quite irritated by this display on a day when I don't get to enjoy taking all this lace off you." He quickly pecked her lips. "C'mon, in you go."
She giggled and scampered - and he slid under the covers and wrapped around her and buried his nose into her fresh smelling golden mane.
"Remind me about—" He yawned again, and his lids were heavy. He nuzzled her behind her ear. "Remind me about braids and your hair— in the— morning."
She seemed to be asking 'what about my hair?' but he was already drifting away.
