The second-half of Ch16 has been edited. Lack of updates were due to being sick like a hobbit.
"Bilbo!"
He straightened himself upon hearing his name. Gaping eyes settled on the hobbit's drowsy form. His clothes sopping wet, dripping on the floor in a puddle around the stool he was perched on. Bilbo gave an almighty sneeze which nearly toppled him over. Élarinya draped another dry towel over his shoulders as Oin helped him on his feet and up the stairs to change into something dry. Dori came around with another set of towels and an empty bucket. The female's gown looked like it weighed about half a cow with all the water retention. At least that's what it felt like to Éla. Dori and Nori rang out what they could from the bottom hems so she wouldn't tumble over trying to get upstairs. Needlessly to say, most of the water ended up on the floor rather than in the bucket.
The female looked around for the one who followed her inside as she rang out the tips of her hair. Thorin wasn't anywhere to be seen, neither was Balin. Most were already in their rooms changing and retiring for the night. Dori pestered about with the last of the cleaning and patting dry his younger brothers. Ori fell victim to the eldest's ministrations since Nori was too quick and evaded most attempts.
Careful not to trip over the dress' folds, Éla retired to her bedroom in silence. Once inside, the door was bolted. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The cold, wet fabric stuck to her skin and began to chill her bones. Treading over to the wardrobe, Éla opened its wooden doors and dug for something dry and comfortable. No doubt she'd fall ill like Bilbo if she stayed in drenched clothes.
As fingers rummaged through for a familiar pair of breeches, a glance was casted into the mirror hanging on a hinge. Nothing unordinary was sought until the maiden looked up a second time, stunned. Something was out of place. After closer inspection, something was amiss. Éla stepped closer, barely reaching the left side of her face as a hand brushed against loose strands in front of her ear wide-eyed.
In a heartbeat she left her quarters, crossed the hall, and barged into Thorin's room without so much as a knock.
"What did you do?!" She demanded in a hushed voice, out of breath as if she ran a marathon.
Both dwarves remained fixed in place. Surprise faded as the female's non-threatening presence quickly registered in Thorin's mind. Éla held his gaze for a short time which followed down to his collar, to his unmoving hands, but then dropped once she realized her mistake and lack of courtesy. The body, and eyes, tended to have a mind of its own sometimes. Thorin had begun undressing himself prior to her sudden entry, ridding his body of damp clothes as he stood at the end of the bed in the center of the room. Outer layers were shed and tossed on the floor; his shirt clung to his body half unbuttoned, hands holding onto the next row.
Éla avoided looking at him with little luck, jaw locked and unable to speak no further. That was the best she could do without ogling at his exposed chest. Light from the lantern resting on the table flickered, shadows danced over every groove and crevice of his muscles. Dark orbs watched a single water drop release its hold from one of his braids, and followed the curved path over his skin before disappearing beneath his shirt. Her feet refused to budge, muscles solid as stone. Heart racing, wanting to calm, it wouldn't allow her to escape so easily.
She was embarrassed having walked in on the dwarf leader the way she did. Now Éla regretted setting eyes on the revealed form in front of her when there had been so little distance between them not that long ago. The feeling resembled the fluttering wings of a butterfly flying about in her stomach, and she fought to decide whether it was a feeling she should take pleasure in.
Heavy footsteps crossed the room in two wide strides. Thorin stayed back a safe distance, but was within arm's reach. Without a word he raised her hand, faced it palm up and dropped a small, silver bead. It was one that held a particular braid in place. Éla stared at it briefly, nearly forgetting the reason for breaching his privacy. Her focus switched from the bead to his face.
"When did you undo it?" She was speechless and didn't know what to say, yet knew what it entailed.
"I know what that braid signified." Thorin was now expressionless, closing her fingers around the object before pushing her hand back to her. His face was unreadable for the first time that night. "You gave permission."
"Thorin..." In no time, he backed her up next to the door. All he could see or focus on was her mouth, the shine from soaked hair trailing down to the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. Seeing Élarinya pinned helplessly against the wall stirred something deep inside, yet she did not show fear; she welcomed his submission. Thorin leaned forward, nearly claiming her mouth with his but stopped. An act without thought mostly led to bad things. He felt in control. No. He was in control.
Instead he brought a hand up to her neck, brushing away the silver strands from her skin. His movements had silenced her but that would not last. Her lips parted from his warm touch, sending a shiver coursing through her veins. The relinquished kiss from the damned cell seduced him the past week. The urge to feel her lips brush against his had been growing unbearable. The touch embedded deep within his mind, forming a sickness similar to one's love of gold. At first there was no emotion, yet he couldn't shake these newly developed sensations. Now that he tasted her, took in her scent for the first time, he had to push distance between them or he would lose control altogether. Thorin opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it and backed away. His gaze raked over her, temptation growing moderately higher by the minute.
"Get some rest. We'll discuss this in the morning." Any course of action carried out now would cause him to lose whatever strength of mind he had left, taking him completely out of his element. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take at such a vulnerable time. Éla let out the breath she hadn't realized she held in as she reached for the door, wondering what just happened. "Good night."
Darkness faded to black. Cold hands grasped immobile limbs, so much pain and death.
A terrifying screech pierced the cool air. A body lay wilted in the center: dark, red fluid merged into the blackened level, coating the surrounding perimeter with life's last breath. Shadows marched about, engulfing the figure, peeling away its layers until nothing remained but an empty shell.
Fire grazed over the base, infuriating anything and everything in its furious path.
Distant cries resonated and stirred panic as a lengthy cursor came into contact with the tallest shadow, sending it down into the pool before it. The cries faded in and out, the shadows vanishing into mist one by one as if being taken out so peace could settle within. Waiting, nothing changed. No light came. No breath or voice. Everything remained silent and blank. The fire extinguished leaving nothing but fallen ash.
Slowly, the blackness combined into darkness, remaining ever still.
A kettle of water was put over the hot fire. In a short moment it would begin to boil.
Éla woke earlier than usual. Too much was on her mind and with a sleeping company; she thought it best to start preparing for a late breakfast. The female dwarf pondered where to begin and dug through the pantry and cupboards - grabbing pots and knives, meat and eggs – anything she could find. The regular cooks and maids were dismissed for the tasks since Éla wanted something to do. The weather hadn't eased up overnight; rain pitter-pattered on the windows as she busied herself around the kitchen.
By chance, she came across some lavender and rosemary, and immediately thought of Bilbo. The herbs would help with his cold and possibly soothe his sinuses. Opening the jars, she crumpled some leaves into the kettle and let it simmer. The sweet aroma quickly filled the room, spreading throughout the rest of the house and warmed any chilled bones. It was both relaxing and comforting.
With the table partially prepped and most of the food prepared, Éla returned to chopping some vegetables to add to the array of meats and bread. The mixture of bubbling water and rain outdoors had her lost in her thoughts. The quiet sounds were welcoming, an everyday occurrence she missed dearly from being on the road for so long. Small, familiar noises kept her memory sharp but her hearing had received the lesser end of the bargain during such times. Éla turned to place the last dish on the long table, before returning her attention to the kettle upon hearing steps entering.
The herbal mixture was soothing and relaxed any tense muscles as she removed the lid to stir its contents.
"You made all this?" A deep voice broke through the silence. Éla looked over her shoulder, aware who it belonged to. Thorin took in the smells before examining the food spread out between them. The female dwarf rummaged through a small drawer and placed handfuls of forks and knives in two piles on the table.
"Do you mind placing these for me?" Éla hurried back to the kettle hanging over the burning flames, removing it entirely. She added a bit of honey, stirring the thick substance until it completely dissolved. A lemon was cut and the slices tossed in to soak with the lid resealed.
Once everything was ready Éla checked everything over in satisfaction, oblivious to the dwarf reaching for a slice of meat. He took a bite, his chewing bringing the female back to her senses. Éla batted his hands away from her hard work all while threatening to hit him with the wooden spoon held firmly in her hand.
"You can wait five minutes for the others."
Thorin eyed her debatably. As she turned her back, he wrapped an arm around her waist and confiscated the spoon. Leaning closer to her ear, he spoke quietly from behind. "I did as you asked. If you are so keen to defend your work, you should not be so easily distracted."
Her body tensed as Thorin placed the wooden ladle on the table and took a seat at the head of the table. On his way, he used the opportunity to nab another piece of meat, smirking while he chewed.
"Thorin Oakenshield: I will not allow you to distract – you cannot do as you please!" Éla huffed, spinning on her heel and placed hands on her hips like a scolding mother would to a child. Her cheeks slightly tinted under his successful claim. "It will not kill you to wait and I will certainly not condone being taken advantage of, even if it was for a slice of meat, king or not."
Éla quickly returned to the cooking fire in an attempt to hide her blush as the young heirs of Durin walked in with Balin. Thorin's features changed slightly after her poor attempt to scold him.
"It smells really good." Kili said, sniffing the food spread over the table.
"Don't even think about it."
The young dwarf stopped, hand hovering over a plate of freshly cooked meat. "How did you know?"
"I just can." Éla brought the kettle over and shot Kili a warning, who turned to Thorin for some form of consent. Neither brother pursued the hints to their uncle's successful meat-grabbing. "Now, you can sit here and drool while we wait for the rest to wake up, or you can go and do the waking."
"Already on it." Fili shoved his brother from his seat and both ran upstairs hollering at the sleeping members.
Balin caught Thorin's eye. His friend was in a rather good mood that morning and it wasn't hard to guess why. Dwalin was the first to come down before the boys rushed upstairs, nearly bum-rushing the broad dwarf off his stable footing.
"Do I have to throw this at you today?" Éla asked, tapping the spoon in her hand as Dwalin started to grab some meat for himself.
He matched the devious aura around the maiden with a humorous grin. "You sound like Lady Dis."
Éla became slightly confused. The name was never mentioned before, but for one odd reason or another it rang a bell.
"Thorin's sister." Balin expanded on his brother's vague depiction. "Mother of Fili and Kili."
"Oh." She considered the connections as the rest of the company joined them at the table. Bombur's gaze at food had become slightly disturbing so no one waited for further orders to dig in.
Another update will come by the end of the weekend!
Bonus points for anyone who can guess a reference to something Martin Freeman said in an interview. (Hint: Cinemax 60 Seconds with Richard Armitage)