Shobha sat up on her bed back in her house, when loud banging rattled her door. She stood up, fearful it might be the beast outside her door. It had finally come back to claim her.

Before she could reach the door, it flung open, Thorin standing there, wearing only his trousers. This time she let her eyes wonder down his chest, taking in each of his strange tattoos, and scars, as well as the defined muscle and the dark hair that led her eyes down to the waistband of his trousers.

"Thorin…?"

"I've wanted you for so long, my love…" he moved towards her, eyes filled with yearning.

He was surrounding her small frame in his large arms within moments, running his hands through her hair and over the silk of her nightslip. His kisses were hot, and demanding as he pressed her body against his.

Quickly, he had stripped her of her clothing and moved her to the bed, as she fought to undo his trousers. Within no time he lay on top of her, as she spread her legs for him willingly, his hard hot erection teasing her entrance.

"Is this what you want?" He stared deep into her eyes.

She raised her hips up in a silent plea to meet him… and soon he lay over her, thrusting desperately holding himself up on his strong arms, a fine sheen of sweat in his brow, as she dug her fingers into his back.

Shutting her eyes briefly, she met each of his thrusts, her own breath falling in hot pants. He growled in reply to her moans. She could feel his hair falling on her skin, and the heat emanating from his body.

But when she opened her eyes, Thorin was no longer there. Instead above her lay a large black wolf, the same one she had seen in her dreams, and the very same that had pushed her onto the hood of her car on the road back from Dale. He pinned her to the bed, as she screamed.

"Shobha…? Shobha…?" She could hear Thorin's voice, his hands stroking her face.

"Thorin… the wolf!" She breathed, shivering. Her head spun in the darkness, fighting to open her eyes.

"Hush now… you're safe with me. It was just a bad dream…" his reply was soft, his hold strong.

She could feel him moving her in his arms, her head resting against his chest. But try as she might, keeping her eyes open was not possible, and it seemed somehow, that he could see that.

"Shhhh… don't struggle…"

"Thorin… please…" she whispered into his chest. Her entire body felt weak and cold.

"You're safe with me. I promise… now rest…" he soothed in a deep velvety voice, stroking her hair, as she lay against his chest. He rather liked the way his name sounded on her lips. "Sleep now…"

….

As light flooded the room, she opened her eyes, squinting first, to allow her eyes to adjust.

She lay on a make shift bed of soft blankets that had been laid out by the fire place, which still burned warmly, even if not with the roaring intensity it had been built to last night. One of Thorin's arms lay around her holding her tight against his chest, and they were both wrapped up in several blankets again. Turning around, she found herself against his bare chest, protected from the morning chill by his body heat and the warmth from the fireplace. She curled up, attempting to warm herself, but his arm instinctively pulled her in against him. His was sound asleep, softly snoring, his raven hair dishevelled, and his face at ease, free of his usual frown lines. It made him look younger.

Finding herself against his bare chest, her own robe having come very undone, so her breasts lay against his bare chest and his chest hair rough against her nipples. Apparently his towel had come undone overnight as well, but her own robe provided some form of barrier between them.

His arm wrapped around her waist shifted up as he stirred.

"Are you cold?" He whispered looking down at her, and following on seeing their bodies pressed together. Thorin had imagined he might get married once, when he was younger, but thought it would be to the daughter of one of the better connected lords of the Iron Hills. A dutiful marriage, to bring about greater power to Erebor, she would be well looked after, in need of nothing, and in return she would provide him with an heir to his estate. But all the same, he imagined their marriage bed would be cold, driven by a need for service rather than true passion. Even then, it was a long forgotten idea.

This little woman however, was everything contrary to what he had imagined; from her exotic appearance, the way she made his blood boil, her uncontrollable swearing and foolish pride, the softness that made her nothing like the high born women of their clan, to the way she lay there now with her breasts pressed to his chest, looking up at him with her big doe eyes, it roused something in him: An inner animal that wanted to take her right now. To devour her, without any regard for her, and purely to satisfy himself.

Immediately, he let her go, feeling his body responding to her little frame pressed against his, allowing her the chance to pull her robe together, and letting himself to catch a glimpse of her brown-tipped peaks. He groaned, rolling over.

Mahal! How he wanted to close his lips around her pert nipples! It felt perverse, craving her like this, when only hours ago she had been so vulnerable and delirious with a fever, and he hated himself for these unwelcome feelings he had towards her: he never lost control of his senses this way. Never. So above all, it angered him, driving him wild with rage.

He didn't need the complications of a woman, particularly one that brought about feelings in him that he could not control. One who seemed to have an unwelcome hold over him and an outsider. He knew of the love of southerners; they fell in and out of love at a whim and had no true understanding of faithfulness or loyalty. She was young, much younger than him; to her, he was most likely a folly – a fling. When she was done, his love would be cast aside carelessly. And he was determined not to end up like that – like her former betrothed.

Quickly gathering himself together, wrapping his towel back up, he stood and left the room.

She felt drained, physically and emotionally. This man, she wanted to hate; his arrogance, his moodiness, it irritated her. And yet, there was a part of her that seemed to notice how he hid behind all this, to hide his vulnerability, and all the pain and suffering he had experienced.

Yet, last night, she had tended to his wounds and undressed him, and apparently he had held her and chased away her nightmares. But last night was an anomaly; two people, wholly different, brought together through desperation. In the end, he was an arrogant man, and probably cared little for her feelings as she had seen before. She reminded herself of that again.

Slowly, she moved towards the fireplace, where the flames had died right down. Her clothes, which had been hung on a chair and moved to the edge of the radiating heat, had dried well.

Quickly she began to pull on her knickers and her trousers, followed by removing her robe altogether so she stood momentarily topless in front of the fire as she reached for her shirt. Just then, she heard the door open and his footsteps, as he walked in and so she suddenly stopped, straightening up, but apparently he stood there watching.

For a few seconds he couldn't tear his gaze away from her slender back, her deep brown skin, and her sloping shoulders, framed well with her soft ebony locks.

She knew he stood there but made no hurry to cover herself with anything other than her own arms, even though she faced away. Surely if she turned to pick her shirt up, he would see more.

He could only believe that she was tempting him, on purpose! It made him want to walk up to her, remove the last of her clothes once more, and have his way with her; it was too easy to imagine bending her over the chair, squeezing her breasts, kneading her hips and greedily burying himself inside her.

Angry at the temptation she offered, he turned and left the room, as she reached to pull on her shirt, buttoning it up, still facing away.

When she was done, she made her way slowly into the kitchen, where she found him making tea, dressed in his trousers and an old worn t shirt, which must have belonged to the gamekeeper.

"Here." He grunted, as he handed her a mug of tea and moved the small jar of honey towards her. Then moving his eyes coldly over her, he picked up a jumper and slid it across the kitchen table to her. "Better put that on."

"Thank you, but I'm not cold in here now…" she replied picking up the tea and focussing her eyes on the mug to avoid his chilling gaze. Outside, the rain had eased into a gentle fall.

"We will leave after this. The rain has eased off enough for a bit to get back to the Manor. It'll be chilly outside." He spoke matter-of-factly, as if none of last night had happened. "And your blouse is sheer – it leaves little to the imagination. We wouldn't want anyone making any more out of this than it was, when we get back."

In the cold light of day, everything was back to where it belonged. His tone stung and made her feel like a cheap, drunken shag, that he wanted nothing to do with the next day.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're hardly my age…" she replied coldly. It was easier this way: to forget any tenderness they had shared last night. "And no one would think I would do anything with you, other than take up a vow of complete and unreserved celibacy…"

As she looked down at herself, she noticed he wasn't wrong. Her brown nipples tented the pale, thin silk. And so reaching for the jumper, she pulled it on, continuing to stare out of the window as she felt his gaze continue to burn into her.

…..

They had trudged through the continuing rain back to the car in silence. He held an umbrella over them both, and had found her a pair of wellies, so she was not in her sandals, which she now carried in her hands.

How could they have got the weather so wrong for this picnic?!

When they finally reached the Manor, they found Dwalin, Balin, Fili and Kili gathered by the entrance, deep in discussion, almost to the point of arguing! It was only when they saw them trudging back from where they had parked the car that they seemed to stop and all of them except Balin returned inside.

"We were debating whether to send a search party or not laddie!" Balin explained, looking from Thorin to Shobha.

"The storm hit hard before we could drive all the way. We had to stop and take shelter." Thorin muttered looking at his grey haired cousin, suspiciously.

"You waited the storm out in the car?" Balin looked surprised.

"No. We left the car for the gamekeepers lodge, where we waited for the storm to clear."

"Oh dear, ye must have been soaked!" Balin, who was smaller made, and a bit more portly looked at Shobha this time.

"Oh thank Mahal! You're both safe!" Dis suddenly appeared followed by the rest of the group, from around the corner, rushing over to Shobha first and giving her a hug, before inspecting Thorin, who stood beside her, looking annoyed by the fuss. "We were so worried! What in Durin's name happened to your hand."

"I will explain soon enough, but I think we need to get Miss Seth out of her wet clothes, and rested. She had a fever last night. And we could both do with some food." He gestured.

"Of course, come with me my dear, you can stay in the guest room on our floor –"

"Oh! I thought I was going back to the house…" Shobha tried to keep a neutral look. She didn't want to appear ungrateful.

"Och no lass! It only stopped raining heavily a couple of hours ago. I don't think this will last long. Anyway the storm is expected to continue all weekend now." Dwalin had appeared next to her and Dis. "Nah – yer safer here lass."

"Come now, don't be bashful about making yourself at home here. We have a beautiful library – Kili tells me you enjoy reading. And I can get you some clothes from before I had the boys," she took a scrutinising look at Shobha before smiling. "Even then it might be a bit loose for your hot little teenage gymnast body!"

Dis winked and chuckled as Dwalin joined in.

"Och Aye! But it cannae be worse that spending a weekend with Thorin eh?" Dwalin laughed heartily at that, and Dis guffawed.

Shobha turned to catch Thorin watching her with silent interest, although Fili and Kili had flanked him now, and were chatting away enthusiastically. It seemed like he was more interested in her conversation than what his nephews were discussing.

"Oh I don't know; he wasn't that bad really… I guess… well, compared to a troll or a zombie… or a dead body…" she replied, as they continued to laugh louder and louder. She was sure she heard a grunt from behind, but didn't look this time, allowing Dis to lead her away.

She had been given a lavishly decorated room, with a grand bed in the centre. There was a large wardrobe to one side and a dressing table. The bed was enormous! Much too large for one person! And the room was decorated with several grand tapestries and paintings. Them en suite bathroom was equally grand, with a large tub and a range of scented oils and bath elixirs to select from.

There was no sense now in turning down their hospitality. She was stuck here overnight, and as long as this storm was set to go on. So she had helped herself to an extra long bath, with a concoction of heady scents. Then finally when she had returned to the bedroom, she found several outfits laid out for her, with her old clothes gone and her underwear had somehow been laundered and dried! It made her wonder how many staff actually worked here at the Manor that she didn't see. There was clearly some maid or housekeeper that had put her underwear through a fast wash and then the drier and returned them back!

Walking slowly around the room taking time to look at the various paintings and tapestries, she finally walked over to the enormous bed and collapsed on it. Even the covers were sumptuous and soft, her body sinking into them. Before she was aware, she had drifted into a deep sleep.

...