He frowned at Kili who barely made eye contact with him.

"I do not care what in Mahals name you do with that elf. My wife has foolishly convinced me that you somehow need time because of Fili. But you need to step up for everyone tomorrow." Thorin growled at him angrily. "Your mother will be here in two days by noon. And you are to be waiting for her with me by the great gates."

Kili was already glancing towards the door of his study, ready to run off again, he imagined.

"What in Mahals name is wrong with you?" Thorin spat again. "You cannot be balls deep in that strumpet, such that you have forgotten your duties to us altogether...? You are a son of Durin!"

"Yes Uncle." His reply was bathed in apathy, and the young Durin all but sighed.

"Do not take that tone with me." Thorins growl was low and menacing. It was a warning.

Kili simply turned and began to make his way to the door.

"Kili!" Thorin called out, but the young dwarf had already left, and he was still not sufficiently agile enough to follow and catch up to his nephew as he once could. His injured foot still ached, and he knee often hurt too. It meant he used a cane to help him mobilise. "Kili!"

He cursed under his breath, and then as his anger bubbled over, his thoughts instantly focussed on her.

It was an inevitable urge. To feel her hands on him. A feral need to plunder her body and take what he wanted.

It had taken him some time to recover after the battle, but then she had begun to make herself more scarce.

She was often too busy during the day, falling asleep early sometimes, on their chaise even. To add insult to injury, he was no longer able to carry her to bed with his injuries. And she had always risen with the sun.

It had all meant that he hadn't had her for sometime. And it had left a strange hunger in him that niggled away with each passing day.

Of course there had been times when he had not lain with a female for many weeks. But he had not felt himself so starved before. Not like this.

Once again his renewed anger and frustration focussed on her!

Had he never experienced her tempting little body, then he would not have found himself craving her so. Of course Gandalf and Dwalin was also partially to blame. But punishing her for it was so much more delicious.

He knew that she hated it when he treated her so roughly. But it helped him clear his mind.

And he wanted her right now.

He needed her right now.

Straightening himself up, and testing his bad leg a bit, he began to walk out of his study.

He didn't like his cane, even if Bifur had carved it very ornately indeed.

It was fit for a great King: An old King.

She, on the other hand, was not made for an old King. No. Rather, she was fit for a young, virile King.

It would not matter. She belonged to him and was clever enough to know that she could not escape.

The thought of claiming her again made him straighten up a little more as he carried on down the corridor.

...

She carefully combed Fili's golden hair. It was soft and wavy. Perhaps not as soft as Thorins, but just as wavy.

Finally, she carefully braided his hair as it was before and placed the beads on the end.

It had been three weeks since the battle, and he still had not woken up. His wounds had healed well. But he remained unconscious.

Each day she returned to help Dori and Ori attend to him. His wounds were healed, only the scabs had not fallen. So each day after they had helped to wash and dress him, she would clean and apply an ointment to the scabs.

Twice a week though, she would wash, dry, comb and braid his hair.

Gandalf had visited the Prince on several occasions, renewing his healing enchantments and supplying her with ointments. But he hadn't returned for a week now.

The door burst open, as she began to braid his beard, it made her drop the silver bead she held in her hand.

Muttering a curse in her own tongue, she fell to her knees searching for the bead, when a pair of boots came to stand in front of her.

"I do not need you defending my actions, Princess!"

Bumping her head on the end of the bed where she had reached for the small precious item, she stood up to come face to face with the younger Durin brother.

"What are you doing?!" Kili glowered at her. And then impatient at her silence, he snapped again. "Did you hear me?"

"My Prince..."

"He doesn't care if his hair is messy-"

"Every day we bathe and dress him," she spoke quietly. She had never seen Kili angry before, and had frankly considered him softer in nature. "And I wash his hair a couple of times each week..."

"Why...?" He glanced at her surprised. It should have been his task to do. He was Fili's brother. And now he felt guilty. Guilty over not doing what he should have and guilty for being angry at her.

"Because someone has to," she looked at the bead in her hand. "The others won't do it, because they believe it wrong to touch his hair, when they are not his flesh and blood."

"Nor are you..." Kili stared at her, a mixture of anger and resentment. "And you can get in trouble if my Uncle sees you..."

"That is why the others do not stay while I do it," she held out the small carved bead in her hand. "But I cannot watch him decay slowly..."

Kili blinked away a few tears reaching out to collect the shining bead from her palm and place it back on Fili's braid which she had completed.

"I did not need you to make excuses for me!" Kili ground out between gritted teeth, his anger at seeing his brother renewed again.

"I did not make any excuses for you, Kili." She replied quietly before gathering up the comb and the scented hair oil she had used. "I merely told your Uncle that you need time to deal with the pain of your brother's injuries in your own way..."

"Well let me tell you that I am not running away! I was never meant for these responsibilities. They were always for Fili!" Kili turned on her again, the anger in his heart bubbling over once more, because it was easier to accept than the guilt. The guilt that he had survived, while his brother lay here like a ghost of his former self. "I can't just wash him, and dress him, and comb his hair like I am his handmaid! He would neither want not care for this!"

He watched her walk away from him and place the oils and comb she had used, carefully on a dresser by the window.

"Did you hear me, my lady?!" He shouted at her. "What do I tell my mother, when she arrives - do you think she will look upon you kindly for touching his hair? Simply because you tended to his wounds?! You...are a woman!"

She remained silent, turning slowly to meet his chocolate eyes filled with sorrow and rage. The darkness in his voice was palpable.

"No! She will see you as an outsider! Your only purpose is to bear my uncle a son. That's all! No one cares about anything else with regards to you! You mean nothing else but that - a vessel for his seed! Even if you died after that giving birth, as many women of your kind do - no one would shed a year over you and you will be soon forgotten!"

He spat angrily again. "So stop interfering with MY family. And MY life!"

She bit down on her own tears threatening to flow again. She had been so alone since Arvind had left for Rhun again. Throwing herself into anything she could muster had kept her body busy, even when her mind could no longer be distracted.

Once some time ago, she had considered Kili honourable, kind and gentle. But she could see that he too possessed the cruel streak that ran through the Durin lineage, even if he did have a valid reason for it.

"You asked me why I do this? Because no one else will, and because Prince Fili needs it. And because I do not know of what else to do to help him... At least I am doing something." She swallowed the lump in her throat walking past Kili to the door. She needed to get out of there before she could cry. And she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her reduced to tears.

"He will punish you for touching another male's hair when he hears of this!" Kili called after her as she reached the door.

"I understand that you feel terrible - that perhaps you could not be there to help. And perhaps you feel anger too. But remember when your mother arrives, that she has perhaps in part, lost a son already. She will arrive here on Friday looking for you; she does not need to lose another son too." Shobha offered her words gently. "If you are able, for I am not - perhaps you might ask one of King Thranduils healers to come and check on Prince Fili? Gandalf has not returned in over a week."

Kili stood there watching her, angry and unable to shout back at her words, which had been nothing but the painful truth.

"It is fine. I understand that I have broken your customs. I was aware fully of what transgressions I was making when I first washed and braided his hair. So you can tell the King anything you wish." She opened the door and took one last look at Kili. Even if Thorin banned her from attending to Fili now, she no longer minded. He had healed well, and his mother would be here to carry on as she had in two days. "I have little left that can be taken from me now, my Prince... I do not fear any punishment that you or my husband should declare upon me..."

And with that she left, shutting the door behind her.

She hurried down the corridor back to her room, tears now spilling from her eyes. The image of the young prince falling from the ledge of Raven Hill, still etched clearly into her mind. It could have just as easily been her own brother laying there now.

Quickly wiping her face with the back of her hand, she held her breath as she carried on until she reached the safety of her room.

Shutting the door behind her, she moved to the chaise, where she fell onto the soft cushions, sobbing silently.

The tears had slowly died away after a few minutes. There was no escape from this mess. She was a prisoner.

The only way she could survive for now, was to accept her fate.

The sound of Thorins heavy steps and cane, as they neared their room, made her sit up.

Not knowing what to do, and not wishing to be spotted crying, she quickly picked up a book she had been reading, that she had left under the cushions of the chaise and opened it at the page she had placed a small parchment in.

She must have reread the first paragraph three times, her heart thundering in her chest, when he let himself into their room.

Pretending not to hear him she carried on reading and hoped that he would simply be returning for a rest, as he did on occasion.

He had been up and about, but she knew that his injured leg still gave him a lot of pain.

But hope as she might, he came to stand before her, and cleared his throat.

She looked up and watched as he stood there looming above where she sat with his broad shoulders and stern expression.

"Forgive me, my Lord, I was lost in my book..."

Thorin grunted as she stood up slowly.

"You are a poor liar, my wife..." He liked that she had already given him a reason to punish her. "And you shall have to learn to greet me properly with a courtesy when we are next in court before my subjects."

"Forgive me, my King." She replied rising to her feet, before lowering herself gracefully into a curtsey.

He circled around her to look at her hoping that he could correct her, but she appeared to have learnt this well, from Dori and Balin, he imagined.

Finally he came to stand in front of her, satisfied at last that she was bowed, allowing him to stand taller for once. Slowly he reached down and tilted her face up, silently giving her permission to stand.

She wore a deep wine coloured dress in a thicker velvet. The bodice was embroidered which gave it a richer look, while leaving the remaining dress plain, such that it was practical enough for daily wear. It was clearly the sort of tasteful but fancy sort of clothing Dori would have picked out for her.

He moved around to admire her, but did not actually compliment her.

And then a familiar scent reached his nostrils. He had always wondered who had taken care of Fili's hair, for whenever he visited his nephew, he did not look as injured as much as he did sleeping.

"It is you! You have been caring for my nephew's hair?!" He came to stand in front of her.

She remained silent, feeling a little betrayed, as she imagined by Kili. She had imagined his threats were out of anger rather than true, so had not expected him to carry them out.

"Well? Speak up woman!" Thorin grunted.

But what could she say to that? She was a bad liar as he had revealed before, so there was no sense in denying it. And yet she wouldn't give him the outright satisfaction of her confession either.

So she merely held his icy gaze with her own.

"Very well. Then remain silent." He stepped closer to scrutinize her. "It brings you some sort of comfort...doesn't it...?"

He stared at those big brown eyes, that were like deep pools, leading into the very soul. It was that which he wished to posses completely now, and his urge was growing with each moment.

"Hmmmm..." Lifting a hand to cup her chin, he ran his thumb over her lips. "I recall you stroked my hair on several occasions when I lay injured... But of course Fili is neither your husband nor brother..."

He began walking her back towards their large bed with a well placed hand on her abdomen.

"Perhaps I should show you, precisely who IS your husband...?" He pushed her further until the backs of her legs touched the bed. "So that you might never forget..."

"No - wait -" she began as he made to lift up her skirts hurriedly having cast his cane to the side.

But he only grew more determined to have her for her hesitation. After all she was his bride. And he was King under the Mountain.

He batted her hands away, straddling her legs so that she was trapped and couldn't pull away.

Nobody would refuse him!

"Please...I am bleeding." She grabbed at his hands, her voice desperate. And to her surprise, he stilled.

Having focussed solely on gaining access to her, beneath the many layers of material she wore, he halted at her plea.

Her skirts were partially lifted, her face flushed and she was panting, when he released his grip.

Slowly, he looked up to meet her eyes. Those big deep, pools into her very soul. And to his surprise, he was sure, that he saw sorrow in them.

It was unexpected, since he had imagined that she wanted to prevent such a conception.

He had, after all, seen her hiding the small vials in one of the drawers of her dresser. So while she had taken a bath, he had smelled the contents, concluding it to be garlic flower.

It had initially angered him, but then he upon discovery that it was not a very strong prevention, unlike many of the other herbal concoctions his rage had abated.

And so, he had taken it upon himself as a challenge: it would mean he would have to enjoy her delicious body even more! For if he filled her with enough of his seed, the garlic flower would be of little help to her.

He stepped back and leant against the bed, as the ache in his right knee and foot began to return.

"You sound regretful...?" He asked quietly, adjusting his clothing to cover his arousal.

But she remained silent, until he picked her chin up in his hand and gently turned her face to meet his.

"Shobha...?"

She was taken aback, as his tone was unexpectedly gentle. Perhaps even loving!

"My lord...in truth... I have found myself a little confused...of late..." She answered quietly. It appeared that she was just as surprised by her own feelings.

He perched gingerly against the bed, beside her, clearly attempting to keep the weight off his aching leg.

"I think we know each other well enough now, that in private you may call me Thorin," he reached out and brushed several strands of hair from her face and behind her ear.

"Why would you be kind to me when I have just told you that I haven't conceived yet...?" She examined his face carefully, with some degree suspicion.

"You may hate me for doing my duty - but I am not the monster you believe me to be," he glanced at her, as he came to perch on the bed beside her.

She was now looking down at her hands, smoothing out her skirts, attempting to hide the tears that were threatening to fall once more.

"I thought you had no desire to conceive...?" His frustration seemed somewhat quenched by her tears.

"I...how would you know of this...?" A look of surprise and worry crossed her features. She even seemed to recoil from him ever so slightly, as she clearly feared his response.

"I have known for some time now. I have seen the concoction that you drink before," he replied continuing a little quietly, since he had no intention of appearing insensitive towards her, when she seemed to be growing a desire to carry his child. "I have had other women before..."

"And you... are not...angry...with me...?"

He handed her a handkerchief from his pocket to mop the tears that fell onto her soft brown cheeks.

"I can be forgiving...the effects of the potion you drink is readily reversible." He smirked at her. "If I should have you more...fill you with my seed more...then I can overcome its effects. And if not for recovering from my injuries, then I would have indeed had you more - and with child by now."

She seemed to shiver at his words, understandably given how roughly he had treated her.

"Do not think it is your bleeding that stops me now," he continued. "But rather your despair. For in truth, I rather enjoy your supple body...perhaps more than I have enjoyed any other. So I too have no qualms with the challenge that your potion presents me. For I will have you plenty in time...and perhaps you too will come to welcome me into our bed with wantonness and open legs."

He gently swept a lock of hair from her face and pressed his lips to hers. It was not gentle, but it was also not as possessive as she had come to expect.

"Perhaps I am a monster...but I am your monster...and know that I do not intend to cause you undue pain..."

...

Dear all

Sorry it's been so long! (And perhaps a little shorter this time) will try to post again sooner.

Hope you enjoy this xx