A/N - This chapter (and the entire relationship between Thorin and Aisa for that matter) were inspired greatly by two songs: Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia and Timeless by The Airborne Toxic Event. Both are awesome, and invoke a sentiment that anyone can relate to. Check them out, if you're so inclined. You won't be disappointed.
Disclaimer - I, in no way whatsoever, own any of the canon characters, places, or things found in this story. All belong to Tolkien, and I make no profit.
His vision swam with stars, both the literal and figurative, as he listened to the rhythmic, synchronous breathing of two content souls. The pre-dawn sky was beautiful, but from this vantage point, his eyes could see something even more breathtaking—a crown of blond, messy hair sitting in his periphery. Mahal help him, he would never know how he, of all of his ilk, would be blessed enough to find himself hidden amongst the tall grass of the Long Lake, tangled in the limbs of the one and only Mage of Evendim.
Aisa rested in silence, recovering from their night together, her head pressed against his chest and her left calf hitched upon his knee. Funny, he had never really considered their near-equal heights before now; she had always seemed larger than life to him, and therefore much taller. But here, as equals and lovers lying on the lake shore, it struck him as wonderfully convenient that she bested him by only an inch or two.
The thought led to a tease as he murmured, "You are short for a human."
Her face popped into view, hovering and majestic. "You're just realizing this now? How very observant of you."
"I realized it long ago, I just had no idea how much I would come to appreciate it."
She chuckled and he kissed her, the cadence of her laughter resonating through their physical connection. He could already feel his unending, aching need for her stirring, never totally sated, and his hands skimmed lower down her bare back. Breaking away, she spoke the words against his cheek, "You have such a singular mind..."
"How can I think of anything else? When an opportunity presents itself, I take it. You're still lying here naked, so I must get another go."
Her playful smack landed against his shoulder as she sassed him, "Such a smooth-talker...how did I manage to resist you all this time?"
The smart-ass needed a lesson, so he flipped them over, switching positions to gain more control, and his tongue sought and found the smooth, flat planes of her stomach. Her breath hitched, catching his attention, and he discovered her face amongst a halo of silken blonde, cheeks red with mouth open wantonly. Her body beckoned to be explored further, as patches of goosebumps blossomed across her skin from his touch, and he couldn't resist the surge of possession that ran through him. Aisa was his, now, and all else be damned.
A kiss to her sternum, and her back arched in delightful response, perching her breasts amongst the night air. She chided him, voice breathless, "You should really still be resting. You will undoubtedly need your strength in a few hours."
No, he didn't want to think about that at all. Pulling her closer, he kissed the words into her neck and shoulder, "Rest? I'd much rather use this time to make you mine again...to see you trembling and lust-ridden, with my name upon your lips."
She shuddered, and he gently rocked his hips against her, her responsive gasp like music to his ears. Her hands found their way around his neck as she murmured, "The sunrise will come soon. Would you make seeing it even harder?"
Tiny, the imperfection in her tone, but there, and it gave him pause, his fingers guiding her turned cheek toward his gaze. Earthen orbs, the warmest brown—he would know them anywhere, but the unspilled tears found there were what took him aback. He would do anything to make them disappear, and so every base but beautiful thought he had left his mind in an instant. "No…"
"Then just hold me...until the dawn comes."
A desperate plea, so he caged her in his arms, and she clung to him as Middle-earth began to slowly awaken around them. Time flew too fast as he listened to the birds welcoming the day, and the faint splashes of some creature's morning swim. When the sun's first rays filtered through the trees to reach their toes, she somehow managed to slither out of his embrace, and he openly admired her bare silhouette in the early light, committing it to the deepest depths of his memory. It was a sight he would cherish, and a century from now, he would only cherish it more. She sat up, moving next to him—distance enough, he realized, to give him a serious staredown. The shift, he could sense it in her tone and body language, and he pushed himself upright, matching her position.
"You must return to the Master's house, before your companions worry after you. You all have a lengthy climb ahead, and not much time."
Her careful choice of words caught his notice, and he asked without thinking. "Will you not be joining us?"
Condescending, her laugh grated on his nerves, "No…why would I?"
He had no response that did not sound pathetic and weak. Clearly, he had put more value, more meaning, into the act than she had. He could only hope that she would let the subject go. She leveled a stare at him, the gaze piercing him, soaking into his bones. She sighed, "Nothing has changed, Thorin. You still have a home to fight for, and I have played my part in that. We enjoyed what little we could, but neither of us can entertain the luxury of anything more..."
He realized an opportunity to both save face and put the infuriating creature in her place. "You speak as though I asked for your hand. I simply thought that you may accompany us up the mountain."
"Well, then I misjudged your intention."
She had not, but pride would not allow him to admit it. Was it so far-fetched to think that his ally-turned-lover would want to be at his side, especially when she thought he may not return? Was this even the same woman who had claimed to care for him, to be concerned for his life? It was true that whatever could be between them would be nothing normal or commonplace, but their dealings had never been, so why start now? Before he could speak, his tongue slowed by despair, she continued, "So, to be clear and certain that we are of like mind: we had one night, and now, that night is over."
His heart screamed no, its beats a frantic staccato of denial; but his traitorous head nodded in assent. He disagreed with almost everything she had said that morning, but he would voice little of that, in light of the circumstances. A wiser man would accept her logical, stoic approach, probably even welcome it, but Thorin had never been mistaken for a scholar. Reality and duty had always managed to find him, to force his life down a path that he had to begrudgingly accept. But this time, they attempted to chase away a fantasy that he would not give up on.
"I'm glad you agree. Now, before you go, we still must settle our bargain..."
He didn't bother to hide the incredulity in his voice, "Seriously, Aisa? After everything…"
She cut him off, "We made a deal, Thorin, and I still intend to collect, regardless of our little tryst. If you wished to prostitute yourself, then you should have made that known beforehand. I might have considered it…"
Long gone was his companion, the passionate and needy creature that he had pleasured on the stoney sands of the lake, replaced with the more familiar, colder version—the mage with a mission. Her comment stung, the implied unimportance annoying him, and he barked, "Fine. What do you want?"
She locked eyes with him, "Turn the halfling's contract over to me."
For months, he had agonized over this moment, imagining and analyzing a number of scenarios with demands that she might make of him. But, this was completely unexpected. "What?!"
"You owe me, and Bilbo is what I require in payment. He is in your service, so you will inform him of his new assignment and order him to stay behind."
"What do you want with him?"
"It's not your concern," she snipped, "but I can promise that no harm will come to the hobbit."
He shook his head, "Even if I go along with this absurdity, Bilbo will not. He intends to see us retake the mountain, and he knows how important he is to our cause. He will not willingly bow out now, when we are so close to the end."
"That is not my problem. But, I would suggest that you convince your halfling friend, since you are more than well aware of the repercussions. If need be, you can sign his contract over to me right in front of his face."
Agitated, he felt his stomach turning at the thought of facing Smaug without the halfling. It hit him, and he knew, even without Gandalf's words echoing in his mind, they would not succeed if Bilbo stayed behind. He tried to reason with her, "Aisa, you can't be serious. You know that I can't agree…"
"This isn't up for debate, Thorin. I have made my demand, and you will either fulfill it or not."
"Why would you do this now? After everything that we have been through to get here? You said that you would help me…"
"I have my reasons, dwarf. None of which need to be explained to you."
Ice, she had become cold, distant, and he felt the spreading chill run through every fiber of his being as all the gears clicked into place. She had him trapped, and it terrified him, but the saddest part was that he could not even really hate her for it. He had done this to himself, by agreeing to a blind boon and swearing to it with a gold-oath. Wooden and stunned, he moved by reflex, wary of the predator nearby, as he gathered his clothes and dressed. He could feel her eyes upon him, but she said nothing more, seemingly waiting for him.
"So be it," he grimly stated.
"Then, it is agreed. Return to Lake-town and find your friends. I will come for the hobbit once you all have left for Erebor."
Again, he didn't bother to voice his disagreement, or to argue her assumption that he would comply. Truth be told, he had only a vague idea of what he might do, and it made no sense to tip his hand at this point. Either way, whatever his choice, a high price was to be paid, and he only hoped he could find a way to deal with the consequences.
"Is there something else?" her voice reached him and brought him out of his thoughts. She looked impatient, her fingers tapping silently against the earth.
"Yes."
He shifted on his feet, rooted and unmoving, a small act of defiance, as he would not be dismissed or controlled like a puppet. Rising to her feet, the air was electric, humming and alive with her magic, and it reminded him of the road to Bree, the sensation the same one he had felt so many months ago when she had become the swarm of wasps. He had been both terrified and in awe of her then, and that had not changed. But now, he wanted to run to her, instead of from her.
"What, Thorin? You must go before…"
He charged her, the distance gone, and he kissed her hard, hands grabbing her bare ass, pulling her in. Pliant, supple lips gave into his bruising push, and when he broke away, his ears barely registered the sound of her soft whimper. It was all the confirmation that he needed, and all that he would get from the stubborn mage.
"Now, I'll go…" he murmured, his voice full of gravel, "And when I return, we will see if this was truly for one night."