Chapter Three
Bitter Confession
While the rest of the washing dried in the cool breeze, Thorin held Nellie beneath the willow tree. They talked a fair deal about many things as they sat there, though mostly it was questions for one another to answer. It was as fine a way as any to get to know more than name, and Thorin readily shared his stories–to a point–with her. Nellie had learned that Thorin had a younger sister, Dís and a younger brother called Frerin, who had died a very long and lonely time ago. She had also learnt that he had no children, though his sister's sons were treated like his own, and that the entirety of his family lived in the Blue Mountains. It was only when Nellie grew curious of why he was so far from home that Thorin pushed the life story re-telling onto her. Unfortunately for Nellie, there hadn't been much to tell. At least that is, nothing so great as Thorin. She felt so green in comparison, so she had said so.
Thorin rested his chin on the top of her head and took her hand in his own, rubbing circles into her palm. "A simple life is nothing to be ashamed of Nellie. You are young, yes but the world is waiting for you. So many wondrous places, some not so. You'll never know if you never choose to."
Nellie groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head. Nothing in the world would have pleased her more than traveling to see Middle Earth…but the very notion was nothing more than an unattainable dream. She wanted to tell him she couldn't just up and leave–the number one reason being her vile troll of a husband. As you can imagine, Nellie did not bring that up. Instead, she opted to question Thorin on the places he'd been and the things he had seen.
Hearing more of her questions, Thorin threw his head back against the tree trunk frustrated at her diversions. "I've told you all there is to know about me–you've offered little to nothing in return. Will you not tell me?"
"Everything there is to know about you, Thorin son of Thrain?"
"...Nellie…"
She sat up then, cocking her head with an unbridled attitude in his direction. "Well?"
Thorin matched her, raising her childish behavior to one very stern look–the kind he often used on his nephews when they were being unreasonable. "I've given you what you need to know, which is more than can be said for you. I don't know if you have family–siblings, parents…Do you have a family name or are you simply Nellie? Why aren't you married–"
She flinched.
"Have I said something to warrant your unhappiness? Nellie, tell me so I may not do it again." The tone of his voice became gentle.
Thorin's expression was genuine, which took Nellie by surprise. No male had cared for her emotional well-being before. It was then she decided it wouldn't hurt to share a little with him, after all he had done so for her. Besides, the way he was looking at her made her into a puddle.
"I have no family name," Nell cleared her throat, "And I have no siblings. In fact I don't know much about where my family comes from. I like to think I recall being a bairn on my grandfather's knee."
She leaned back against Thorin's chest, eyeing him carefully in hopes she wasn't boring him terribly. He kissed her brow, while an arm slipped around her, gently caressing. "Go on, sweetling. There is nothing you could tell me that would bore me."
Nellie sighed with pleasure at his touch, "He would tell me stories… Stories I think of our lost home…ones that were told to him when he was small. I don't recall much of them if I'm honest and they were probably just children's tales. Tellings of a town that lay beneath a mountain, proud and strong. Dwarven toy makers would take their wares into the village and sell or trade their goods. Unfortunately, the city burned…"
Thorin tensed as Nell continued on. He wanted to believe they were all fantastical tales spun by an old man to his grandchild, but the familiar picture of desolation was still so vivid in his mind. Nellie was a descendant of the men of Dale and she didn't even know it.
"Thorin, what is it?"
He cleared his throat, trying his best to appear unfazed with the new information he had just received. How was he meant to tell her it wasn't a fairytale? Unfortunately for Nellie, Thorin was not known for his subtlety. "It's not a child's story. The city beneath the mountain was called Dale. The mountain? It was the dwarven kingdom of Erebor. And the fire… it was dragon's fire. It desolated the town to ruins. Smaug the Destroyer laid waste to everything."
Nellie had been focusing on the nearly dried clothes, trying her damnedest to comprehend what it was Thorin had just said. It still wasn't adding up for her. "How do you know that?"
"Because Nellie, I was there." Sighing woefully, Thorin rested his chin on her head again while pulling her closer. Her scent was calming to him. Craven and selfishly, he never wanted to let her go. "And now you know something about yourself and myself you hadn't known previously."
She blinked, sitting up. "I suppose you're right. I'm not sure how that affects me now, but it's good to know where I come from."
Observing her in the late afternoon sun, Oakenshield silently praised her as his infatuation grew. The details of her features were highlighted by the sun's rays, glowing in all radiance. He studied Nellie, noticing the small details of her face. There was a small pot scar on her right cheek, probably from some childhood illness. Her nose was sun touched, spotted here and there with the most tantalizing display of freckles he had ever seen. His body began to tense. He still had so much to explore of her–with her and yet there he was sitting in remembrance of her silken core, wrapped so tightly around him, her soft moans sending him to nirvana. There was no Erebor, no dragon, no quest when he was with her. It was only them.
"Nellie, come here."
Pulling her from her own thoughts, Nell pouted her lips. "Come where? I'm already next to you."
A gasp left her, followed by a fit of giggles as Thorin lifted her and placed her on his lap, straddling him.
"There, that is much more to my liking. Are you comfortable?" He questioned raising his fingers to her lips, trailing down her neck to her bosom, latching his thumb to the trim of her bodice between her breasts. Thorin noticed her breath growing heavy, her skin peppered with goosebumps. Those deliciously wonderful eyes, toying with him as heavy lids batted. "You've casted a spell upon me, woman and I shan't complain."
Nellie blushed, partly in flattery. The other half was in shame. It was wrong for flirtations and sexual acts to feel so wonderfully erotic and blissful, wasn't it? As she gazed into his admiringly lustful eyes, a sensation she'd not felt before by the hands of another shook her. A deeply loud moan roared from her chest as her eyes grew wide with Thorin's, who was immensely proud of the reaction he incited; his hands beneath her skirts, had found her sensitive button and he worked it until it grew towards him, instinctively causing Nellie to rock into him. Once he had her in a steady rhythm, he shifted his hand to his trousers and freed his aching member. Though he had assumed she would have been eager, a look of concern sprawled across her face.
"What is it, darling?" He asked.
"I–I've never… I don't want to disappoint you…" Her voice came out in the form of an embarrassed whisper.
Thorin only smirked wickedly. "You've never been on top of a man before?"
She nodded, blushing deeply.
"Put your hands on my shoulders," He instructed. "Now bring your knees up closer, yes that is it Nellie–good girl."
Nell felt wetness grow within her at Thorin's small praises. She wanted more of that. "What do I do now?"
Judging by the expression he adorned when she asked for instruction, Thorin was also pleased with it. Growling, he reached around for her bum, gripping it firmly with his able bodied hands. He lifted her to hover over his hardness.
"Sit." He commanded.
Nelly did as she was told, deliberate and slow. Her mouth fell open as his hardness filled her, her own walls closing tightly around the tip, gliding with perfection to take his entire length.
"Thorin," She moaned his name with bated breath.
His hands were gripped hard onto her thighs at her waist, pulling her closer to him. "I know…" He guided her up and then down, until she felt comfortable on her own. And when she was, her movements sent Thorin to the edge. She rode him without shame, claiming the dwarven king as her own. "Aulë's name," He threw his head back. "I've never felt so good–careful–Nellie stop…I cannot go much longer if you continue to–"
"I want this, Thorin." She whispered in his ear. "I want you to know I can do this for you."
Oh how he wanted to tell her no. How Thorin wish he'd had the strength to tell her he didn't want her to do this for him alone, but feeling the hot wetness convulse around him, her tight bum rocking into him, and the sheer scream of Nellie's orgasm falling upon Thorin's ears was the sweetest song he'd ever heard…there was no stopping it. He held his breath for as long as he could, before cries of breathless joy expelled from his lungs. He grabbed her face and kissed her hard, whimpering and twitching as his seed poured into her. She was his complete salvation.
"I've never known what pleasure was until now." Thorin's chest heaved. Their bodies were still pressed close together.
Nellie kissed his cheek and fell back on the grass next to him. Gazing up towards the sky, she knew their time together here was coming to an end. All the joy they'd spent the past few hours now closing in–reality waiting back at the Pig and Whistle. She sighed miserably.
"What is it?" Thorin's eyes were closed. His arms were tucked comfortably behind his head.
She didn't answer him and moments later Thorin was softly snoring. Nellie decided to leave him there to rest, draping a clean blanket over him. With that, she left down the path back to town, a smile spreading across her face as she fondly thought of the sleeping dwarf left under the tree. She didn't know how or why any of this happened, but she owed her new found happiness to Thorin.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Pickthorn shouted from the front of house into the kitchen when he saw Nellie from the street, turning down the back alley to enter the pub.
"I had washing that needed done."
Her husband mockingly looked around. "Well, where is it then?"
Nellie stood still in confusion. "Where's what?"
Pickthorn huffed in a heated rage with his large hands twitching on his hips. "Where's what," he mimicked her bullying. "The bloody washing you stupid cow."
He picked up a plate and hurled it at her feet, causing her to jump back in fear. Her heart began to race, terrified of angering him even more.
"I–I'm sorry husband. I must have forgotten it." Nellie was shrinking, cornered like a mouse by a cat. It was unavoidable what was going to ensue. She had wished she had remained silent.
The brute of a man lunged forth and back-handed Nellie in the face so viciously the poor woman stumbled backwards, catching herself on the edge of a table. She placed a hand to her cheek and cried bitterly. Her face was burning red.
"You will be sorry when I'm done here. Do you think you're free to come and go as you please?! Do you ever think at all in that empty space you call a head?"
She cried harder at his insults, shaking her head in pain and bewilderment.
He reached out and grasped ahold of her forearm, tossing her across the room and into another table. Nellie hit it hard, causing pots and pans to crash to the floor, a kitchen knife slicing her palm when she tried to stand.
"Clean this mess up and get to work!" He spat down at her, pushing past Violet who came running when she heard the commotion.
When he had gone, both women could hear him at the bar, greeting customers with a cheery voice.
"Oh heavens!" Violet stooped low and helped the younger woman to her feet, her face cast over in horror. "Nellie your hand!"
Nellie sniffed, her hands shaking as she took in the sight of her own blood. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a handkerchief and applied pressure to her wound. "Don't fret none over it. I'll be alright."
Violet tsked, pulling up a heavy stock pot and placing it on the stovetop. She glanced over at the broken dinner plate, pained to know exactly how far Pickthorn could go in a fit of rage. "What was it this time?"
Nell didn't answer at first, continuing to pick up the mess then diving straight into putting potatoes on the boil. Her mind was elsewhere than in the moment, but honing on reality she began to chuckle through a new found flood of tears. "Laundry. I forgot to bring home the laundry."
She knew how ridiculous that sounded; how could someone forget to bring back the washing they'd spent all afternoon cleaning? It was a wicked web she'd spun, unable to tell even her closest friend in the world what she had really been doing.
"How–"
A knock on the back door frame took hold of both their attentions. Nellie's heart sank into the pit of her stomach. It was Thorin. He had a basket of clean linens at his feet.
At first no one spoke, each of them reading the energy of the room. Violet stood between Thorin and Nellie, her expression unreadable. The cogs in her head were turning until something clicked. She spun around quickly, giving Nell a horrified glare. The younger woman dropped her head in shame, too embarrassed to say a word in her own defense–which was bitterly lacking.
"I brought these back from the river," Thorin explained, motioning down the street. "Nellie had forgotten them and I thought–"
"Thank you!" Vi snapped, albeit more harshly than it needed to be. She herself was in disbelief and shock. Trying to collect herself, she went over and received the bundle from him. "Supper will be ready shortly, master dwarf. If you would like to go 'round front–"
Thorin raised his hand to silence Violet, his concerned visage taking in the sight of Nellie, who was too afraid to look up from the floor. "Nellie, are you alright? What has happened to you?"
Smiling sadly, she slowly lifted her head. At first her eyes pleaded with Violet, who was utterly disappointed in her–it was easy to see. Meeting Thorin's was another story. It took every fiber of strength Nellie could muster to meet him and when she did, no answer to his inquiries were given. Instead she offered him this. "I'm fine. Violet is right, you should head inside and make yourself ready for supper."
Oakenshield was not so quick to leave the issue lying. "You will tell me–later then? I wish to know what has happened that has put you so out of sorts."
"Aye, alright… later then. After closing."
Violet scoffed loudly, shaking her head in disgust. Laying the clean clothes beside the staircase leading to the rooms, she made herself busy with the dinner rolls, humming to avoid hearing anymore of the scandal.
"If you do not come find me, I will come to you." His voice was stern, laced entirely with concern for her.
Nellie nodded. "Don't worry, it won't come to that."
He nodded solemnly before bowing his head to Violet and the same to Nell. When he had left around the corner to make his way to the front of the tavern, Violet stared at Nellie with daggers.
"Forgot the washing, was it?"
Nellie grabbed a tray and began to fill pints from a keg. She didn't answer Violet, who pulled the mug out of her hands.
"You're not going out there looking the way you are. Go freshen up and finish dinner. I'll make the rounds tonight."
Tears started flowing from Nell's eyes again. Her lip quivered. "Oh Violet… don't tell Mr. Pickthorn, please!"
The older woman had half a mind to bring the 'I told you so' speech into play, but the complete devastation and misery plastered all over Nellie was enough to stay Violet's tongue. Instead, the only compassion she could muster is what was this. "If he doesn't know, he won't hear it from me. Promise me you'll put an end to whatever it is you've been up to–tonight, for heaven's sake!"
Nellie sobbed, thankfulness raining down her face in streams.
"Stop all that," Violet chided. "Now go. Go clean up before Mr. Pickthorn comes back and lays into you again."
Nellie did as she was told.
The rest of the evening had continued on quite uneventfully. Not that Nellie complained about that. It was an unexpected yet very welcome turnout to the night. She had stayed in the kitchens for all of it, serving up and washing plates with Thorin ever present on her mind.
It was foolish, she knew it to be true. Foolish to be so enthralled with him–so content and dare she say… happy. And though she dared to dream of being with him the way they had been down by the river forever, reality was a far crueler mistress. Nellie had made her decision. She was to tell Thorin for the remainder of his time spent at the tavern, he may not speak or spend time with her again. It would be better that way, for everyone. After all, she had unintentionally involved Violet in the mess and although Mr. Pickthorn had never laid a hand on her before, Nellie couldn't guarantee it would stay that way if ever this scandal got out. Nell wouldn't take that chance. Not after Violet had agreed to keep quiet about it.
You can do this Nellie, she told herself.
Deep into the night Violet and Nellie sat at a table in the kitchen, sipping tea and playing cards. Mr. Pickthorn had left for bed, content at least knowing the women were in each other's company and not anyone else's. Only when quiet fell had Nellie mentioned with a heavy heart that she should go and find Thorin.
"No need for that," Violet whispered, sipping at her drink and laying down a crumbled card. "I had instructed him to wait until the hour was late, then to meet you at the kitchen door."
No words could be found for the gratitude she held for her friend's aid. Violet shooed her with her hand and in motioning to their game, bade Nellie to play her own while they waited. To which, she had. After an hour or so a storm had arrived and it was from the rain that the looming figure of Thorin appeared on the threshold of the Kitchen's doorstep. Nellie excused herself from Violet's company.
As she approached her lover, a painful awareness hit her like a ton of bricks. He did not look pleased.
"What in Durin's name is going on?" He spoke rather loudly, causing Violet to look up from the new game she had started.
Nellie, on the other hand, closed her eyes. She attempted to settle her ever shaking nerves. "Please, not here."
Thorin peered over at Violet and then back at Nell. He nodded silently in agreement. His forearm was grasped by Nellie, who navigated him out the door. Nearby there was a small A-frame awning, jutting out from an old filled in well. This is where they stopped. The silence that passed between them was maddening.
"I'll not ask again, Nellie. What has happened?" Thorin sounded pained this time, his eyes searching desperately for an answer to his question.
On the opposite end, Nell's own teary disposition only fed his worries. When she spoke, her heart began to break into a thousand pieces. "It was all a mistake," She lied to them both. "I wish for you to leave me be. Please… do not try to change my mind, as I have made it up. For everyone, it's best you leave this place as soon as possible."
Incredulously Thorin suppressed a bewildered chuckle. "Everyone? Nellie there is only you and I–"
"You don't understand Thorin. I don't want this anymore…whatever this might have been. It's over."
Oakenshield's expression faded from confused amusement to an earnest one. "Whatever this might have been? It's barely begun. You wound me, Nellie…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair while attempting to remain calm. For inside himself, a greater storm raged than the one around them. His heart ached. "Though if that is your wish and you can look me in the eye while saying it, I will leave you be–for good."
Oh how hard she tried to tell him she wanted that. She had opened her mouth willing the words to come forth, but nothing happened. Nellie laughed quietly as tears spilled over the sides of her face, both unable to break the gazes they shared.
"I thought as much," Thorin stepped closer towards Nellie, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Don't cry… it's all right."
"It's not all right," Her head leaned into his hand by her cheek, comforted by his touch. "Nothing about this is. I cannot help myself, though. I'd die without your touch."
Chuckling, Thorin pulled her close and kissed her neck, making his way to her ear where he stopped and whispered. "Then come to my room tonight."
Nellie pushed him away. "I cannot. Not tonight."
"Then I'll come to you–"
"No!" She panicked. "No, you cannot. Not tonight, Thorin."
He sighed, growing impatient. "When then?"
Nellie groaned to match him. "I don't know… tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Aye, tomorrow… I'll slip away. Meet me here?"
Thorin rubbed his brow, his other hand resting on his hip. "The sneaking…I don't understand it Nellie. I'm not afraid to be seen with you… are you ashamed to be seen with me?"
Nellie appeared mortified. "Of course not! Things are just… they are complicated."
"Complicated?!" Oakenshield hissed. "Nellie, I will not sneak about as though I've done something wrong. You will tell me what is going on or I'll have no choice but to leave. It's the principle of the matter."
"Please Thorin…" She cried hard, her shoulders slumped.
"NOW Nellie. I will not ask again."
His shouting made her jump, a cry of her own bursting from her heaving chest. "I'm married!" Her sobs wracked her body. "Mr. Pickthorn is my husband… I am married."
His face grew dark; eyes wide with horror. His frame was rigid in discomfort. Nellie had attempted to reach out for his hand, which he pulled away from her angrily. Her cries that begged him to look at her–to forgive her, fell on deaf ears. He couldn't think properly, nor bring himself to look upon Nellie.
Thorin's heart twisted in pain. He couldn't stand there next to her any longer. Pushing past Nellie, he ignored her pleas for him to stay. He left her standing in the rain.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading everyone. And a special thanks for the review! :) Don't forget to follow/favourite and if you feel compelled, leave a review. As always I hope you enjoyed!