Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.

Okay I admit this is another filler chapter and that I kind of went a little fangirly in this part. I'm too over the tension myself and had to do something. Pleas don't smite me if you think I botched it it up, like I said I could handle it and had to write this.

Warning: Drunk hobbit Ahead.

The celebration of the dwarves was a grand but exclusive event within the Town House. Those who were honoured with an invite were those sat on council, tax men, traders, anyone with reason to bow and scrape to the Master. But the dwarves did not care for whom the Master saw fit to dine with them, they at least were content with drink overflowing their glasses and meat on their forks.

A welcome distraction to the potential battle with a dragon the next day. There was no real sitting arrangement, the food had been laid out on the comity tables and the men wandered to from each one.

Marie felt a bit out of place being the only woman present other than the serving girl who came out occasionally with three serving boys. She kept close to Dwalin when Bofur got to tipsy and insisted on finding a flute.

Marie too felt her sobriety failing her slowly. The wine was singing in her veins and making the room even warmer.

'Now I see why the elves were so merry.'

It had been a while since Marie had allowed herself to drink, Proper young ladies would favour tea over ale, but Marie's father would often let her steal quick sips when no one was looking. In his later years they would sit near the fire with some of his best mead, talking for hours.

As the third casket of wine was brought out, the Master stood up from the head of the top table, a glass in his hand to make a toast. "To the King Under the Mountain." He said with as much decorum as one could when they're drunk. The men and dwarves cheered, raising their own various drinks. Marie just clutched the wine glass tighter. "And to the bright and profitable future of our people." The Master looked directly across the floor at Thorin when he said this. The dwarf was standing in the centre surrounded by traders and raised his tankard in acknowledgment to the Master.

The large man prattled on about some nonsense about his 'hard work' to keep Lake Town afloat, but Marie wasn't listening.

Thorin glanced over to her little hiding spot by Dwalin's side and caught her gaze. His eyes held a glint that Marie interpreted as inquiring. She dipped her head to let him know she alright and the ghost of a smile played at the corner of his lip.

After they had called a truce, Thorin spent the whole day by Marie's side, talking, listening, and on the odd occasion laughing. She had managed two more smiles out of him when they had found common ground on the childhood interest of star gazing. They still disagreed on certain points, but there was no malice to it. More playful banter than harsh judgement. All in all, Marie had wished that afternoon had gone on a little longer.

But she still refuse to admit anything.

She took a long sip of her wine and let the strong brew burn her throat.

"You might want to go easy on that." Dwalin lent down so that she could hear him

"I've only had one."

"I counted two."

Marie frowned up at the burly dwarf. "I can hold my drink just fine thank you."

"It's not your drink that's to fear." Dwalin straightened himself and surveyed the room. "Meaning no disrespect but I doubt someone your size could cause much damage when drunk."

"I will take that as an obscure compliment and move on."

"Wise thinking there."

Marie's upper lip quirked as she raised the glass to her lips again. Dwalin may have been prone to violence, lacked subtly and was scary most of the time, but still Marie liked him.

Her mood turned sour when Alfred came over to her. She tried to take another sip but came to realise she had finished her wine. Alfred had changed his coat for the evening but that spicy smell lingered. "Ma'am, pardon the interruption but the Master wishes to meet you." He said.

"Meet me?"

"Yes ma'am, now just come this way," He reached out to touch her shoulder, but Dwalin stayed his hand with a single glare. Marie quickly placed her empty glass on a table and hurried along after the manservant before Dwalin did anything.

As she was lead towards the top table, she mentally readied herself for whatever the Master would ask her. She regretted leaving Sting back in bedroom.

The man sat in his chair leisurely and was idly fingering an old gold chain around his neck. He remaindered her of how she had first seen the Goblin King on his throne. The extra chin, clammy skin, even the layers of fat spilling over the armrest, the resemblance was uncanny. Marie covered her mouth and pretended to sneeze to hide a snort.

Alfred took her around the table and placed her right next to his chair. "Sire. As you requested."

'Requested? Oh for heaven's sake I'm not a ... No Marie remember yourself and play along.'

"Well now," The Master leaned further into the armrest and stared down at her, "So I finally meet Thorin's woman."

Marie took a second and nodded.

"Quite a pretty thing, though not a beauty."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance sir. My name is Marie Baggins, formally of the Shire." She said in a clear voice that masked her injured ego.

The Master made a noise of pleasant surprise that grated her ears, "Eloquent. Impressive." He brushed a finger over his wispy moustache. "Is that how you keep your lords attention, by charming him with dainty words of flattery?" He chuckled and wiggled about in his seat, pulling at his long robe to get comfortable. "Women have a way with words. Or are they just talented with their mouths in general?" He asked Alfred who sniggered.

Marie blinked back her disgust and calmly said. "I can hold my own with ... my lord when it comes to talking. A decent conversation can be worth just as much as a hefty sum of gold."

"True, true." The Master waved her statement aside with a fat hand. He pressed her for a few simple questions about her origins, how she met Thorin and so on, all of which she answered promptly, or for some lied about. But he caught her with his last question. "Tell me my dear, what do you get out of this?"

"I beg your pardon sir but you may have to be more specific."

"Well I do not see myself the merit of bringing a woman along such a quest, other than for warmth. And not to be disrespectful," Marie pursed her lips, 'Too late for that.' "But you are not from noble birth, are you?"

"... No."

"Right, then to my understanding Thorin Oakenshield could never take for his legal wife. Political business within the dwarven clans or something like that."

'Legal what? Take ... me?'

"So my question my dear is what to you gain from this? It may not be any of my business but it does make one curious."

"I ..." Marie struggled with the words, and it wasn't the drink that caused it. She cleared her throat and started again. "I simply wish for the dwarves of Erebor to reclaim the home they lost. Nothing would make me happier than that."

Alfred gave a patronizing sigh, "Such devotion, brings tears to the eye."

"Indeed. Alfred be a good man and fetch two brandies." The Master ordered.

"Right away Sire."

Marie protested, politely with a smile, but Alfred returned and handed her the glass with honey coloured liquid without listening to her. The Master took a swig of his and said, "Come now my dear. This is one of the finest brews in the East, absolute wonder it is."

There was really no choice for her. Marie held her breath and drank. Just as she had expected, the brandy scorched the inside of her mouth and festered in her belly, leaving behind the after taste of something ... sweet.

'Well that's a first.' She examined it then took a second sip, then a third. The Master was grinning like an idiot as he watched her, "Told you. My personal favourite." And with that he finished his bandy and barked at his manservant for another.

As Marie went to take a forth sip, her mind took a giant back flip and she had felt like her left side was heavier than the right.

'My word, what on ... oh' She felt herself swaying. Perhaps she should have pressed harder on her declining the brandy. Someone next to the Master said something funny. Or at least Marie thought it was funny since she felt her shoulders shake from laughter. If there was one thing Marie hated when she ever did drink, it was that she became a profound giggler. Marie excused herself, even if the man heard her or not, and walked. Or skipped some would say, between the tall men around her who didn't even know she was there. The burning in her belly spread and filled her limbs and head with joy, if that was at all possible.

She drank more brandy.

"Theeeeeerrrrrreeeee'ssss aaaaan!"

'Who? What? Whyuuhh?' The hobbit looked around to see where the noise was coming from, spinning herself in a full circle.

"Aaaannn inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn beneath an old grey hill!"

Bofur had gotten on a table and gave a repeat performance of what had happened at Rivendell, only a drunk version.

Or was Marie imagining it?

The men clapped along and the dwarves sang along, even Marie found herself tapping her hand on the one holding the brandy. She made her way over to lean of a wooden beam and watched Bofur sing away, even goading and lanky man with a scraggly beard into singing with him. It was so very very funny to Marie. Her eyes drooped and she rested her head on the wood, letting the noise around her flow over her like water.

She could have very well had gone to sleep right there and then. Perhaps she did. When she opened her eyes again, Bofur was off the table and had been replaced by three identically looked men shouting a shanty of sorts.

Marie pinched the bridge of her nose and looked again. Now the middle man had black hair and a lute in hand.

'I must be dreaming now.'

She raised the glass up but a hand appeared out of nowhere and covered it, preventing her from drinking it. She opened her mouth to protest but only a huff of air came out.

"How many of these have you had?"

She knew that voice, but where? Where, where, where? Oh yes.

"Hello Thorin." She grinned. He positioned himself in full view of her, darkening the room. Was he larger than normal or was Marie getting smaller?

"How many?" He yanked the glass from her and sniffed it.

"Just the one." Marie shrugged. "One of the best he said."

Thorin disposed of the remaining brandy. Marie blinked and it was gone. "Who?"

She leaned around the dwarf and pointed to the Master, "His Royal Highness over there."

Thorin glance over see who then back down at her. "He gave you the drink?" He sounded angry.

"Aye." Marie nodded. "Hail to the Prince of Goblins and his bloody rude weasel." Judging by the reaction Thorin gave her, she had utterly stumped him. She twisted herself around so that the pillar supported all her weight.

"Come." He murmured and pulled her along by the forearm. "I think the best remedy for you is sleep."

"Sleep? I'm already dreaming." Marie snorted, but let him lead her along.

No one questioned them leaving, not even the dwarves. Though none of them saw them slip away into the dark and thankfully quiet hall that lead to the stairs. Marie would have been happy to go on her own, but Thorin refused to let her go.

"I am fine Thorin." Marie blinked with every word. She felt more than fine, she felt absolutely giddy. "I can walk up a few stairs on my own." As she said this, her foot magically slipped and she stumbled.
"It's not the stairs that worry me." Thorin held her arm steady so that she could find her balance again.
"Well you worry too much. I have been taking care of myself for the last fourteen years without problem." Marie patted the hand coiled around her elbow. Thorin sighed and shook his head. "You are an impossible woman Marie Baggins."

"You're one to talk Thorin Oakenshield." She poked his shoulder, a little off her intended mark of his chest.

A thought came into her head and she voiced it before even thinking it through. "You know there is another thing you lot have in common." She was of course referring to her earlier remark that day.

Thorin stared at the finger she brandished at him, "And what is that?"

"You all love a good party. Like us hobbits." Marie aimed the finger at herself. "Nothing like good food, good drink and good company."

That made the dwarf chuckle, "True indeed."

"What a merry world it would be if that was all anyone needed." Marie mumbled. Thorin had a bittersweet look about him. Or did he? Marie couldn't exactly tell or see for the matter. They had gone so far from the festivities that the light failed to reach them.

"What a simple desire." He said.

"Are you calling me simple?"

"No Marie." He at last let go of her. "You are far from simple."

Though she could not see him clearly, Marie envisioned his handsome face with a gentle smile looking down at her. She wanted that.

"Go. Go enjoy your party." She told him with a drunken grin, her hand resting on his shoulder. She craned her neck and went to kiss his cheek. At this point a tiny voice somewhere would be yelling, nay screaming at her to stop before it was too late. But she heard nothing as her lips pressed against his hot skin. Once again she miscalculated her aim and had caught the corner of his lower lip instead.

She could have moved away then, let it be a simple thankful kiss, a sign of endearment.

But she didn't. This was her dream and she didn't wish to think about right and wrong or anything other than ... she wanted to do this.

She closed her eyes and adjusted her head, pressing another soft kissed his bottom lip. She savoured the chap texture of it.

Thorin's head tilted down, hooking their kiss together.

They were still, they sounds of the party far away from Marie's thoughts.

She never imagined just what it would be like to kiss Thorin, it was surreal and made her fingers and toes tingle when they parted.

'What a delightful dream.' She let her head drop, a shy smile about her face as her vision spun slowly. 'And what delightful branduurrwhaa...?' Her head was tilted back up by Thorin's hand and his mouth crashed into hers with such force it was almost brutish. Marie's head went from spinning to falling in seconds and she froze in shock. Any words or sounds she thought to make were robbed of her as Thorin continued to kiss her, harder and more urgently, sending her senses over the edge. Marie could taste the wine on his lips, each touch left a bitter sting on her skin and a fierce hunger for more.

His hand slid past her jaw and held the back of her head in place while the other sat perfectly on the small of her back. Marie gasped as she was pulled into him, her small frame flush against his. Her whole being trembled as the dwarf pressed his advantage. He was a raging inferno that could burn the flesh from her bone.

'It's not real. None of it.'

Marie didn't heed the echoey voice that lingered in the back of her thoughts, in fact it sounded too wayward and careless to be true. It may or may not be real true enough, but Marie didn't care.

She lifted a hand to his cheek and brushed her fingers across his beard. An odd sensation to Marie. It felt rough, but not so much to be considered harsh. Hobbits did not care for beards and always kept their face smooth, clean and presentable, except when eating and drinking. Marie decided, in her dazed state, that she liked this feeling better.

A noise rumbled in Thorin's throat, like a growl, and Marie felt herself being pushed back until her shoulders hit something solid. The wall? The impacted made Marie gasp, her mouth hovering under Thorin's as his ragged breaths came in heavy draws. She felt his lips move against her skin, whispering something with a wanton sigh. Marie intoxicated mind imagined it was her name that he was whispering with such reverence.

When he said it again, Marie heard it, her name on his lips as he pressed another opened mouth kiss onto hers.

Something ignited within Marie, setting her on fire with something she never experienced before. Unbridled passion, making her blood sing even louder. She had not the strength or the thought to resist it and succumbed in seconds, opening her mouth and allowing Thorin to slid his tongue across hers, coaxing and tempting her as he moved his hand to hold her hipbone. It sent a shiver of pleasure through the hobbit. She tried tentatively to return his kiss with as much vigour but Thorin easily overpowered her.

His grip on her hip tightened sending another shiver up her spine. A shaky moan escaped her and she clutched the folds of his tunic desperately. She grew dizzy from lack of air yet Thorin showed no signs of relenting. He grew fiercer with his touch, his lips hungry and possessive.

But as Thorin clenched his fist in her hair, he pulled her head back roughly, inflamed her slow healing injury. It was enough to bring Marie out of her lustful haze and gain some control over her body. Why, why did she feel pain in her dream? She pulled back, but the dwarf's hold on her tightened, his teeth grazing down her chin and down her neck, tasting her. A sharp twinge when down her shoulder as his canine dug into the skin.

Marie whimpered and push him way.

She ducked her head and her hands held her neck, protecting it as the pain overwhelmed her. They stood there, gasping for air and unmoving. Marie eyes were heavy and she tried to look back up at him, but she sagged against the wall, the world around her a dark blur.

The inferno that had engulfed her slowly withdrew and disappeared all together.

She pulled together the will power to look up but saw no sign of Thorin. She called for him meekly but nothing happen. The joy that had flooded her veins grew weak, leaving Marie feeling cold. He was gone. No ... he was never there.

'It was a dream. No dream could be that real. But it was.'

So began a very long steep climb up the stair, and an even longer debate with herself.

Ssssssssooooooooooooo yup ... that happened. What will happen next. The next chap will be focusing on Thorin's reaction to ... his actions. Please review and let me know how you think it went.