DAIN AND THE QUESTION OF HEART
Middle Earth, original Wren and Thorin, Timeline #1
Mirkwood, Dain is 43 years old
Meltoriel is lying splayed on her lover's back, her head propped on her fist, the second hand running through his silken red hair. The long slender fingers twirl a heavy thick strand, and the Dwarf underneath her chuckles.
"Did you know that it was your older sister who gave me the moniker Aras Erebor, the Stag of Erebor, while I was still in my mother's womb?" His Sindarin is impeccable. The Elven maiden laughs.
"Did you know that she harboured unrequited passion for you for years until finally accepting that you prefer me?" Dain turns sharply and swiftly moves her on his chest.
"Dulindil had an eye for me?" Meltoriel wrinkles her perfect nose.
"Will that inflate your enormous ego even more, Dain, son of Thorin?"
"My ego is not enormous, my mother brought me up well."
"And your Dwarven father, have you not inherited his arrogance?" She lifts a brow, and he laughs.
"My mother prefered the word 'cantankerousness.' And no, the men from the line of Durin know their worth and behave accordingly, and no more conceitedly than it is adequate." He feigns haughtiness.
Meltoriel suddenly slides down his body, and her lips are pressed on his stomach beneath the navel. He barks a short guffaw. Her lips are moving on his skin, he feels a caress of warm skillful tongue. He takes a deep breath in, his member stirring to life again. And then she stops and lifts her face to him look at him.
"Why are you here, Aras Erebor?" He lifts his brows in an unconscious imitation of his father's gesture.
"Because you invited me to stay, kurdu." The raspy consonants of his native language sound strange in the sleeping chambers of a maiden of Woodland Realm.
"What does this word mean?"
"My heart." His voice is calm and deep, and she recognizes the peculiar serenity that he carries in him.
"Is that how Dwarves call their lovers?"
"That is how my kin call their beloved." He sees her eyes widen.
"Am I your beloved?"
"Is it not why you decided to invite me to your bed?" She presses her cheek to his abdomen.
"I cannot say that was a mindful decision." He picks her up under her arms and pulls her to align their gaze.
"And which part of my glorious Elven lover was making this decision if not her mind?" His voice is lower, and a thick smooth brow cocks up. She lowers her lips to his ear.
"My kurdu." Her Khuzdul is mediocre but he decides the lesson in pronunciation can wait.