Chapter 55

Year of Firsts - Desire

000

Thorin exhaled sharply, sleep disrupted by a shift in weight next to him. As he woke from a deep slumber, keen senses picked up on warm breath tickling his neck and the slight tug on his tunic. Looking over, Éla's sleeping form was flush against him, a hand loosely fisted in his shirt. He rested an arm back around her waist, realizing it was still night and careful not to wake her. Slowly, he drifted back asleep by the lulling fire and rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.

Hours later he stirred awake again to the brim of sunrise peeking through the glass window. Their position hadn't changed. His body grew stiff from lack of movement during the night. He would soon need to get ready for the day and yet he found himself almost too comfortable in bed. As much as he didn't want to wake his wife, he needed to move her so he began tracing small circles on her lower back. As she stirred, her grip loosened and Thorin carefully rolled her onto her back, freeing his arm from beneath her.

Stealing one last loving glance, he got out of bed and stretched tired limbs. Moving about the room, he got dressed as quickly as one was able given the many layers he adorned. Sitting back on the edge of the bed, he fastened his boots only to feel the bed-frame dip and a hand brushing against his sleeve. He turned his head to the side, seeing his wife look at him with a drowsy smile before closing her eyes again.

"Come back to bed." Fingers continued to play at the edge of his sleeve, silently begging him closer and so he moved to kneel next to her.

"I would if the day's schedule was not so busy." He brushed a few misplaced strands of hair from her face, engraving that whimsical look of happiness to memory.

"And if I request it?" She reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging lightly, guiding him down so their faces were now inches apart.

"Later?"

His suggestion ignored, Éla pulled him closer as he planted a soft kiss to her lips. When they parted, she held onto the leather binding of his outer coat, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth before rising to meet him again with more hunger. He responded in kind, following her as she leaned back down into the mattress, her hands roaming to unfasten his layers as he pushed the blankets down while deft hands followed the curve of her body down to her waist.

She relaxed into his touch and his heart quickened as their kiss deepened. Finding the hem of her nightgown, he pushed the material up as he trailed up and inward on a thigh, exposing her skin to the chill of the room. She hummed into the next kiss and then Thorin stopped his pursuit, pulling the cotton fabric back down.

He kissed her deeply one final time before he removed himself. "Not now."

Éla's faced dropped in disappointment, sitting up only for him to lay her back down, his hands wandering around her hips and migrating up her sides while claiming her mouth again.

"I have business to tend to first but I will see you later this evening." He mumbled, leaving her breathless before parting, leaning off the bed. Uncertainty caught him off guard. He would not put his desires before her mending heart. Still, her sudden acts made him wonder about her more and where her sudden but welcome advances led.

"I will hold you to that, Thorin Oakenshield." There was a sultry tone to her threat as she watched him bid farewell with a satisfied look.

Temptation begged him to stay as he lingered a little too long before parting through the door. He would soon regret his actions.

000

The levels of disappointment upon looking out the barracks that morning were bone shattering for the young prince. Mouth slightly agape, bow slung over his shoulder and ready to trek out into the promising white wonderland had Kíli slunk forward in posture, for they would not be going on their expedition today.

His plan began as a scout before heading back inside to find his comrades. Light flurries of snowflakes continued to fall, though that was nothing compared to the impeded halt of a few dwarves shoveling their way through the thick white blanket covering the path leading into Dale. The waist-deep snow would take hours to clear and the sight had Kíli's heart twist with disappointment, opposite to the tranquil flakes steadily falling peacefully beyond the gates out amidst the winter wonder.

Kíli turned on his heel in pursuit of another venture, rattling his brain for a way to break such news to his friends unlike his saddening reality to see his very plans unfold.

"It'll be cleared by midday."

Kíli whipped his head around to the guard standing watch. "Sorry?"

"It's the same each day." The guard stated, remaining perfectly still and eyeing the prince through the slit in his helmet. "Give 'em time and the paths will be cleared shortly for you to go about your day."

Kíli nodded politely, still upset but now he had a promising outlook for later.

000

As Thorin retired for the evening, his thoughts remained jumbled as he scoured the long corridor in hopes of finding the very thing that usually brought him peace. Not a soul was in sight when he reached the door to his private chambers. A small part of him had hoped to even run into his nephews, yet they were nowhere to be found either as he glanced through their opened doors in passing.

Turning the handle he pushed his way through, boots dragging across the floor now that he no longer had to bear the weight of kingship behind a locked door.

He quickly noticed movement by the fire startling him to attention. Éla turned around in her seat, sprawled out on the lounge chair and seemingly relaxed as her hands weaved through her tresses to form a braid. Her face lit up upon noticing his presence as he lazily shrugged off the fur coat.

"How was your day?" She asked.

Her question had gone unanswered as she fastened the end of the braid with a piece of fabric. A grunt escaped him as he set aside the heavy cape on the back of a chair, looking up at her reflection through the mirror of the vanity, her focus still tending to her hair.

His day was long, too long.

One meeting after another, he'd never sat in one seat for so long before, not since he was bedridden after the war. While the dwarves made progress over the treaty, the document remained far from completion for signatures and drafts to be sent to other city-states involved in its mock-up. Their biggest question remained on food transports and security around their perimeters while winter raged on. One of the men who'd accompanied Bard dared to ask about the dead corpse of the dragon lying somewhere in or over Laketown. Quite frankly, Thorin had forgotten about that detail since Erebor was reclaimed and no one dared to return to Esgaroth since. There were still residents occupying the outer city on the lake, although no word came of the dragon's fate since his death. He'd rather not think of a bygone issue since most had moved into Dale already.

While a frown rested over his exhausted features he was glad to be back in his room with a pleasant sight by the fire which eased his tempered thoughts from hosting so many all day.

"How was yours?" He returned the question, pinching the bridge of his nose from exhaustion. The past week had been grueling with long days and little time for much else aside from sleep.

"I accompanied Kili and Dwalin to Ravenhill today." Éla began cheerfully. The happiness resounding in her voice calmed him from all the meetings he had to sit through. His sight couldn't evade her damp hair and his thoughts soon turned into a frenzy elsewhere as he began to speculate what lied beneath the thicker fabric of her cloak. For days, they danced around temptation and it was catching up to him.

"Some of the guard have been clearing out damage done to the watchtower where they can. It'll be weeks before it's back up and running properly again but it had Carc excited for the ravens' return to their original post atop the hill. Winter has halted any advances to the upper levels, but there's a select few clearing that out as well."

Thorin mindlessly paid attention as Éla rose from her spot, the band tearing from its place in the braid as she went in search of a new one. A gentle touch was placed on his back as she reached past him for a metal clasp instead and made way back to the chaise.

"Kili wants to turn the highest point into an archer's lookout." She continued, unaware of Thorin following in her stead. "He'll come to you by week's end once proper plans are laid out and the paths cleared -"

Éla jolted from his sudden touch, laughing to herself when he did not respond. Instead, Thorin pushed her hair further from her neck, leaning in and whispering incoherently in Khuzdul. She didn't catch what he said as her focus became clouded by his warmth, following every physical tell as his beard then caressed her neck, trickling down towards her collar like feathers as he inhaled deeply. He began to kiss her tenderly on exposed skin, slowly removing the outer layers of her night garment from its perch.

"Thorin?"

He's dazed and heat began to pool in his core as Éla questioned him without further words, his body now flushed against her back. She sighed into the wonderful sensation as a weighty hand dared to glide towards her front, slipping past her outer robe to rest around her abdomen.

She turned around in his embrace. He dropped his gaze from her sight, following the loose braid set in her hair as stray strands stuck to wet fabric where it curved her body from damp skin after her bath a little while earlier. Had it not been for the fur lining on her outer robe concealing most of her figure, Thorin might've succumbed to weakness right then and there when he'd entered the room.

She noticed his hesitation as a hand reached for physical contact, gently pushing the braid away from her neck, feeling soft skin and yet the dwarf king did not dare to venture any further south as hungry eyes followed the curve of her bosom hidden behind the annoying furs she wore.

Something troubled him and Éla knew what he hoped to seek. Seeing her like this must have haunted him every night, unable to fulfill a longing void. She cupped his face tenderly, stroking his cheek with affirmation for they had waited long enough.

"It's alright." She reassured barely above a whisper, his breath slow and heavy on her face as he leaned closer, still hovering from any further touch.

"I cannot do this, Éla." His hand glided from her neck, feeling cool skin under his touch as he dared a bit more, stopping at the damp hem of her nightgown while the other roamed the small of her waist again. Thorin inhaled her scent as she inched closer, a calming mix of lavender and oils he could not find words for. Her essence was intoxicating and it was driving him mad.

He did not know what he hoped to expect upon deciding to retire early that evening. Running a kingdom proved stressful as he slowly healed, and to see his wife in such an innocent state... Indecent thoughts flooded his mind and yet he still refused to touch her any more than this despite not moving away himself.

He needed a release, something to break him away from the duties of king, a place where time could stand still, peaceful in its wake; a moment where all worry would wash away like dirt under running water.

Éla noticed Thorin's hesitation, battling his mind over the next act. She knew what he desired, yet he restrained himself over a cause unbeknownst to her. If he worried over mending wounds, hers were no longer a concern. So she decided to show him instead.

With a tender touch, she gently guided his hand back down exposed skin, the garment threatening to expose her more in the process from the tug.

"I am yours, Thorin." She watched his lips part as he closed his eyes. A moment ticked by as he listened to the beat of his heart in sync with hers under his touch.

"I do not want to cause you pain." His brow furrowed as he fought to rid himself of his own desires, stepping back into the chill of the night as he distanced himself. "It would not be fair to you."

She hushed away his worries, following his retreat and leaned up to plant a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth before pulling away ever so slowly, lingering at the edge of desire. "Whatever troubles you, I am here."

She brought his face to meet hers, fingers gliding down his jaw. "To listen," a hand traced down the embroidered embellishments on his tunic, grazing over battle-hardened muscle beneath the fabric as she loosened the ties in the process, "to love."

Thorin remained breathless as she unfastened his shirt, brow now resting against hers. He allowed her to continue stripping him of outer-clothing, relief washing over as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders with each article shed. In doing so, he grew impatient by her close proximity. Permission was not required, that much he knew by her giving it anyway. A silent confirmation to proceed without regret. He exhaled, frustrated in his continued halt to do anything.

He was a king. He feared nothing.

And yet here he stood with a most welcome invitation that scared him from its sultry appeal. He could not rid himself of worry.

Dark thoughts vanished when warmth snaked around his neck, pressing against him fully as his arms dropped to his side. He opened his eyes as the cold dampness of Éla's gown pressed flush against his heated body. Éla trailed her free hand over his exposed chest, following his sturdy musculature frame, feeling the valleys down his torso, and the calm rise and fall of his lungs with each precious breath he took in. There was vulnerability in that moment as Thorin braced himself, shining blue eyes darkening under her touch.

"I know that look." She teased, entrapping Thorin against her so he would not turn away. He'd been patient these last few days and he needed to see that he could never hurt her. While a week was short-lived since their marriage made official, time drew on from busied schedules. Éla had hoped he would pick up on the small hints she'd laid out for him. Each passing day grew longer than the last and by some unexplained thought, she found herself longing for his touch, a growing desire to cave under wedded bliss. If only she could make him see her beyond their loss and act beyond teasing words.

Fingers stroked the back of his neck with intent to calm her husband in his hesitation. He should have no reason to worry about her. Still, he stood like stone, unmoving. Unwilling to progress. If words were meaningless, falling on deaf ears, she would have to show him it was alright. That they would be alright.

Éla removed herself from his warmth, watching his face twist between conflicting emotions - betrayal glinting across mesmerized sapphire eyes from her increased separation. Hands fisted in the fur lining of her outer robe as she pushed the garment off her shoulders, allowing it to fall in a heap at her feet. Thorin's gaze narrowed by the tantalizing sight. The damp cotton fabric hugged her body, curving and sticking in all the right places. A flash of warning almost pleaded her to stop this charade yet her invitation remained serene in the calmness she offered.

He was losing control, fast.

Without visual aid, Éla tugged his arm, beckoning her king to follow her towards their bed as she led them backwards in her slowed pace. He guided her by the waist instinctively, his body suddenly submitting to her every whim as he slowly found her mouth under the firelight, bowing to claim hers hesitantly and then increasing into a deep and passionate kiss with each stolen breath. An unrelenting show of his power against her smaller frame. They parted when the back of her legs met the edge of the bed.

"There's no need for worry." She assured soothingly, pulling him closer by the neck. "I will not break."

Her words encouraged him. It instilled fear in his heart for he did not want to hurt her again. His dragon-sickness, their desperate love in Esgaroth. It tired him and yet thin fabric was their only barrier that night.

"If we continue, I fear I won't be able to stop." His husky voice low as she freed him from the grounding weight of his belt. He did not notice her ministrations until the metal clang resounded in the room upon tumbling to the stone floor.

"Then don't."

Her response nothing more than a breathy whisper as delicate hands smoothly pushed his shirt from his shoulders, following the sturdy muscles of his arms downward in her attempts to set him free, gingerly tracing fingers down to his wrist and guiding him back to the ties of her nightgown. Thoughts clouded by her touch, he couldn't think straight.

Thorin's defenses unraveled, chest heaving for air as if it were knocked out of him by some spell, heartbeat quickening. Primal instinct took over as his mouth sought out hers so desperately once more, failing to keep away.

With one hand on her lower back for support, Thorin obliged in his wife's offerings, running the other down her neck, loosening the very thing he needed her rid of. Guiding her down onto the bed he broke away momentarily to kick off his boots before rejoining her, hovering over her warmth atop blankets and furs, a drowsy smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she idly outlined the edge of his bearded jaw with the back of her fingers. Thorin rested an arm next to her head, carefully leaning into her form, breathing ragged by what was to come.

"It's alright." Éla reconfirmed when a heavy hand then pushed the cotton fabric up her thigh, stopping near her core as he squeezed gently. His burning skin seeped through her gown, and she drew in a sharp breath when he moved ever so slightly over her, fabric grazing over sensitive flesh. Dark orbs lit up by the gesture as he memorized her every reaction caused by him.

He had to be sure.

"You may be king," she whispered, "but allow me to ease your troubles where I can."

She pushed back his hair, rising enough to meet him in another deep kiss before settling back down. Thorin shifted slightly, settling himself between her thighs, never looking away from her flushed face as a quiet moan escaped her when the rough fabric of his trousers brushed against her unclothed entrance.

The heat from her exposed flesh against his hardened him. Too long they've waited, too long their separation remained.

Thorin remained gentle in his actions. This was his wife, his queen. Barren or not, he would see her satisfied. That was a job only he could perform.

"Forgive me, Éla.'" Thorin spoke softly as he began to trail down her neck, kissing every inch of skin he could as his free hand released hold of her thigh, moving to the hem of her gown, grabbing the slit above her chest and tore the binds free from a single forced tug as the lining frayed with exertion against his might.

"Forgive what?"

Surprise coursed through her by the sudden act as he then cupped her now exposed breast, massaging the soft, plump skin. He noted the minor change since last they lied together. Since the war less than three months ago and slow recovery, she certainly was regaining lost flesh and it pleased him. Her breath hitched as he ground his pelvis into hers, his trousers straining against the delicate movements.

Thorin paused to meet questioning eyes. With a rare deviant smirk since his days of reign began, his aura encased her, sending an excited chill down her spine as he kissed her deeply with a burning desire not shown before. She melted beneath him, legs turning to jelly as he pushed himself onto her, yearning for physical intimacy. The dwarf king shoved the torn fabric aside as he glided his hand down Éla's bare body, satisfaction crossing his tired features while watching her anticipation unfold beneath calculated acts.

"We won't be getting much sleep tonight."

A/N:
...psst!
Lovely readers, thought it would end here? There's more already uploaded -
Enjoy ;)