A.N. Forgoing my normal apology, can I just ask how many other people have been thoroughly bitch-slapped by 2022? The series of unfortunate events that has happened for my family is a bit beyond belief, and I was only able to finally write this chapter this week. I wish I could confidently say that the rest of the year would be better, but I have my doubts. Hoping some of you are doing better. If anyone has been personally affected by the war in Ukraine, I am so sorry, and my prayers are with you. We live in insane times, but it is nice to see so many people from so many different nations banding together. There is only one humankind.
Now, for the chapter, I must warn you that there will be lots of angst coming. It's been hard to write, but there will be silver linings, I promise. Thank you so much for your continued reading and support!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and plot points.
Thorin had heard the ticking of the clock for a while. There were two hands; one for him, and one for Danica. When the ticking had been particularly loud, he'd tried to deny his feelings for her. After that was no long an option, he attempted to block the sound out. Sometimes this worked, but when he held her at night, the clock was at its loudest. He wasn't sure whose hand would reach 12 first, but an end was coming.
His chest was tight all the time now, but he did his best to hide it, and continue his duties. To say this was difficult during the war council would be a grave understatement. Most of the time, he had his jaw clenched against any remark that could be deemed offensive. He had given Thranduil the jewels as quickly as possible, fighting to remain civil. To his credit, however little of it there was, Thranduil acted grateful, with no arrogant or biting words. It was a miracle. Bard was genuine in his thanks after Thorin showed him the amount his people would receive. Remaining subtle, Danica beamed at him with pride. It was a small consolation prize, but warmed him nonetheless.
The atmosphere changed the instant a map of the region was opened on the large table between them all. Danica sat next to him, but now stood, and leaned over the map, using designated battle models to give them all an idea of how the battle went as far as she knew. Unfortunately, she didn't know how many troops there would be.
"All I can say, is that even with the combined forces of elves, men, and dwarves, the battle rages all day, and the losses are significant," she had said, conspicuously refusing to look at Thorin, Fili, and Kili.
"In the battle you described, we were taken by surprise," Thranduil pointed out. "Now, we can better utilize our forces to prepare for the multiple battle lines,"
Danica nodded. "Radagast will bring Beorn, and a force of the Free Folk, as well as the Eagles. They should be the ones to handle Bolg's forces from the north,"
"My men and I will set what traps we can in Dale, since the orcs will be expecting the city to be filled with refugees," Bard declared.
"I will send some of mine to help you," Thranduil added. "The rest of the elves and I will remain in the valley with the dwarves from the Iron Hills,"
A solid plan, and they put contingencies in place for things that may go wrong. Dain, Fili, and Kili were confident leaving the council, and though Thorin knew they would win this fight, death's icy breath chilled his neck. Thranduil asked Danica to speak with him, so Thorin walked with Dain, his nephews, and Dwalin.
"If all goes well," Dain began, "our people will owe yer wife a great debt,"
"We already do," Thorin replied somberly. "It is because of her that we are all here, united,"
Dain studied him, then held a hand to slow him. Fili and Kili looked back with curiosity, but after Dwalin called to them, continued walking.
"What has ye so concerned, Cousin?"
Thorin moved to one of the few, narrow windows in this hallway. A very light dusting of snow covered the valley between Erebor and Dale. From this angle, he couldn't see Ravenhill, but felt its looming presence.
"I will not survive this battle," the words were a quiet admission, and once out, the weight of denial lifted from him. "It was to be my fate before Danica got here, and despite her influence, I know it to still be true,"
Breathing a curse, Dain leaned his back against the wall. "Are ye sure? Ye knew we would all give our lives to prevent that,"
"I know. Which is also why I believe Fili and Kili will fall as well,"
That was what hurt the most. His sister's songs, whom he cared for as if they were his own. They were his pride, and his sister's joy. After this battle, she would be alone with a grief no one should have to bear. She had trusted him with her sons, and he would end up failing her. Failing her, and failing Danica. His One. His confidant, and the love of his life. One husband had already been taken from her, and he hated to bring about that pain again.
"You will be heir when we are gone," Thorin continued, his voice rough and near breaking. "I have already written down my wishes and instructions. I trust you to follow them,"
He handed Dain an envelope, unsurprised by his cousin's hesitation, not the eventual acquiescence.
"Ye know my loyalty for ye, but I cannot accept all of this. Not yet. I'll keep yer instructions, but refuse to open it unless all ye've said has come to pass," he pocketed the envelope, which was enough for Thorin. "What of yer wife?"
Pain throbbed in Thorin's chest. "She will likely be returning to her own time. Her presence will be far too tempting for the dark forces of the world, and her mission of saving this quest has been fulfilled,"
"She would just leave?" Dain asked angrily.
Thorin turned hard eyes on the red-haired dwarf. "Never. And I do not appreciate the assumption, as it dishonors her," only when Dain gave a small nod of apology did Thorin continue. "My best guess is that whatever power brought her here will send her back before the battle,"
Dain shook his head. "Does she know any of this?"
"If she does, she has been working hard to deny it," but, every now and then, he could see the fear in her eyes.
"All of this work and suffering, and for what?"
The bitterness in Dain's tone mirrored Thorin's own, but he pushed past it. "We took back the home of our fathers, and will never lose it again. No matter what, Durin's folk will once more rule under the mountain,"
Their conversation came to an abrupt end as Thranduil walked out, acknowledged them, then continued toward the entrance of the mountain. Danica was nowhere to be seen. Figuring she had stayed in the council chambers, Thorin parted ways with Dain, and went to meet her.
A storm had been brewing for a long time, and she had truly thought she could outrun it. She had immersed herself so fully in denial that she had been oblivious to how dark the skies above her had become. Her dream the night before had been a warning. John's voice spoke to her through the dark, telling her that she'd done all she could, and more than anyone could ask. She'd cried, protesting vehemently, while vowing to save them all. For the first time, she'd felt hopelessness in her words. Then came Estellia's words. Words she'd heard before.
'There is something you must remember, little one: You were not meant to change their fate, but to bring the world back to its destined course,"
Time was running out.
"I know why you are fighting so hard," Thranduil had said once everyone had left the room. "Rumors of how this battle ends have circulated farther than I believe was intended,"
Danica sighed, unable to look at the elven king. "I would have fought no matter what," she replied. "He is my husband, and they are all my family,"
"Something I have seen as well. The devotion you all have for each other is admirable. Do you believe that is enough to cheat fate?"
Just a few days ago, she would have said yes without hesitation. John and Estellia's words echoed through her mind, causing her to pause.
"I had hoped so," she cursed the break in her voice, and cleared her throat before continuing. "Now, I am not so sure. I would give anything for them,"
A hand rested on her shoulder. Surprised, she looked up, and saw Thranduil looking at her with empathy and sadness.
"Take it from someone who knows; they would want you to live, rather than risk your life. With you alive, their memory and legacy continue,"
She swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat. "That's going to have to be good enough, isn't it?"
Thranduil nodded. "I am afraid so,"
Her mouth opened to ask how he'd survived it, the pain of losing the one you love most, but she already knew the answer. His son. As for her, she'd have nothing. Nothing but memories, and pain in her heart. Tongue suddenly thick and useless, she was rendered speechless. All she could do was stare into oblivion, fighting despair.
"The only real advice I can give you is to grieve, and then stand up, and live how he would have wanted you to. Remember that you are not alone,"
"Thank you," it was all she could manage, and still came out as a croak.
Not one to push boundaries, Thranduil took his leave. Danica remained frozen, trying to push back the wave that threatened to crash over her. The sound of the door creaking open echoed throughout the room, but she couldn't turn. Thorin's footsteps crossed to her, but he didn't touch her.
"What did Thranduil have to say?" he asked, voice soft and raw.
"Nothing I didn't already know," her throat was sore from the constant strain against her emotions, so all that came out was a pathetic whisper.
"I imagine it is nothing I do not know either,"
The words and tone had her finally turning to look at him. There was a heaviness in his eyes; the same that weight on her own heart. She broke. With a suddenness that caught her off guard, a sob ripped from her throat, and the tears escaped down her cheeks. They moved toward each other, arms wrapping tightly. She clung to him, never wanting to let him go. Soon, she began saying as much, over and over again.
"I know, Ibîne," he replied, his own voice thick with tears.
Long minutes passed as they cried together, sinking to the floor. Thorin kissed her forehead and cheeks, then just held her until she couldn't cry anymore. Night fell, and they didn't move. The sconces on the wall were still burning, so there was enough light, but it was starting to get cold. Already numb, Danica just continued to hold on to Thorin. Even when he stood, and led her back to their bedroom, she kept a grip on him. Her skin must have been chilled, for he insisted on her taking a bath. When she got teary at the thought, he agreed to join her.
Later, when they were warm and dry, sitting in front of the fire, she found the courage to speak.
"How much time do you think we have left?" she murmured, running her fingers across the hand she held.
His fingers moved, caressing hers as well. "Not long. Likely before the battle,"
Which wasn't that far away.
"You knew," she said, looking up at his face. "You knew from the beginning. Is that why you kept distant for so long?"
He sighed. "Part of it. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were meant for me, but that I wouldn't be able to keep you. For a short while after we confessed to each other, I let myself hope. It was so easy to just love you, and bask in that glow. So easy to imagine the life I had never thought to want for myself,"
It had been easy, and she wished she'd spent more time focusing on each moment.
"I don't want to go," the words were broken, and had more tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Thorin shifted, kissing her brow.
"The time we have had will be the most precious memories of my entire life. You have been a gift I still don't feel I deserve, but am grateful for nonetheless. I can face the battle with no regrets having known you, loved you, and been loved by you,"
Tilting her head, she caught his lips with hers, and kissed him fiercely. A couple of times, he tried to say something, but she just cut him off with another kiss. Much to her relief, he ceased in trying to stop her, and gave in. It started in desperation, but slowed as they realized that this could be the last time. The last time to be alone, and share this intimacy. They took their time undressing each other, kissing and touching gently. Danica drank in the sight of him, knowing he was doing the same to her.
Her hands slid across his chest, feeling each strand of hair, and ripple of muscle. Following that trail, her lips pressed to each scar and tattoo that always remained hidden beneath his clothes. There was one in particular she had come to love. "Remember," in Khuzdul. Mahizli. It had been inked above his heard after the loss of his brother and grandfather. As she kissed it, she knew she would get the same tattoo after she returned to her time. A sudden thought came to her, and she lifted her head.
"How are we going to tell the others?"
Thorin framed her face with his hands. "That is a problem for later,"
They let the issue go, and moved to the bed. Neither of them was in any hurry, and savored the sensation of being as close as possible, their skin sharing all the warmth possible. Sometimes, they would pause in their kissing, and just hold each other, hands skimming over arms and legs. Then their lips would meet again, kisses soft, but deep. Danica tried to memorize every part of him; the satisfying roughness of his calloused fingertips on her soft skin. The way his legs rubbed against hers. How silky his hair felt between her fingers. His warmth, scent, and the perfect way his mouth moved with hers.
When they felt ready, she hooked a leg around his waist, and he slowly eased into her. They remained face to face, eyes locked, and arms tangled. Each movement was slow and deliberate, drawing out each wonderful sensation. No words were said. Bittersweet pleasure had Danica's eyes growing heavy, but she refused to take her eyes off him for even a moment. However, when her climax rose up to claim her, she couldn't fight the effect it had. Her head fell back, and her eyes shut while she gave a low groan. Thorin's orgasm was similar, and they hung on to each heavenly second, never wanting it to end.
But end it did. As there was no real mess, they remained where they were, even after he pulled out from her. Gazes once more locked, they traced each other's faces, or stroked strands of hair. Thorin gently touched the braid in front of her ear. His braid.
"No matter what may separate us, Danica MacKay, I am yours, and you are mine. After all, we first met through a crack in time. From the very beginning, not even the known laws of nature could keep us apart. As death is one of those laws, it, too, can be conquered," his let go of her hair, and cupped her cheek, eyes bright. "I vow that I will not enter the halls of my fathers unless you are by my side,"
More bittersweetness, for she would want him to go into whatever afterlife he most deserved, not wait in purgatory for her. But the fierceness in his eyes, and aching in her heart had her nodding. "Even in my own time, I will be wholly yours, and no one else's. My heart will not know this love again until we are reunited. I am yours, and you are mine. I love you Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. The warrior who wore an oaken shield, and beat all the odds to take his people's home back from a dragon. A great king, and the dwarf who will forever hold my heart,"
Unlike before, the kiss they gave now held not sadness, but promises. Promises that went beyond time and space, and seared their mark into the hearts of those who had spoken them. Outside, above the mountain, their avian guardian felt the shift, and nearly faltered in her gliding. Power had awoken in their words, and had been noticed. Had Estellia been in another form, she would have smiled. A silver lining peeked through the darkness, shining through a familiar crack in time.