A/N: Please read the following :)
My darlings, I have to warn you that this chapter is NUTTY (and not steamy as some of you assumed, that's why I'm shy :D) and not to be taken seriously! (As if any of them could be :D) It's being written on Halloween night, and as an unofficial ginger I have strange reaction to many substances. Chocolate makes me barmy, and my kid was very successful in looting our neighbours :) So, here we go!
A/N #2: Wynni, thank you for the prompt and reminding what a wonderful soundtrack Disney songs make :)
A/N #3: I do suggest having "Prince Ali" in your earphones when reading :P
That time Thorin was fending off unwanted advances, while Wren was seeing twenty shades of red n green.
He realised he was in trouble when they rolled the sixteenth barrel of ale into the town hall. Tables were loaded with roasted meat, pies, fried fish and crowded with mugs. The mob was laughing, talking loudly, food flying around, someone yelled, Bofur was once again throwing pieces of meat across the table, Bombur catching them with his mouth, Fili just walked by Thorin balancing five mugs, the Master was already sleeping on the table, his ferret like crony was nowhere to be seen, and a busty lass just slipped on Thorin's lap.
"Evening, my lord," she wrapped her arms around his neck, and his eyes fell on plump pink lips. She was tempting, he couldn't deny it, and he had a fair amount of ale in his blood. And though he had plans for tonight, he knew he'd be able to enjoy two women in one night and hardly get tired. There had been precedents. A stubborn thought to prove that he was no redhead's boy toy was thrashing in his mind, but he gently picked up the woman around her waist and moved her off his lap.
"Thank you, fair maiden, but perhaps you should find yourself another Dwarf." The woman laughed throatily.
"There are plenty of such here tonight, it seems," she leaned in and kissed his cheek, "If you change your mind, my name is Thea." She walked away, her round appetizing hips swinging tantalizingly, and Thorin took another large gulp of his ale and looked around. He saw Fili chatting with two women amicably, another one, plump and blonde, was giggling and twirling Bofur's moustache around her finger. All of them, even Ori had company, either drinking and laughing with men of the town, or enjoying a company of a lass or two. He felt irritated, his mood mightily affected by the amount of beer he had consumed, but still surely, he was being a massive idiot. She'd stand him up again, in the best case, or clobber or drug him again, and he'd deprive himself of all merriment such feast could provide for the sake of another disappointment.
Half an hour later he had a laughing maiden on each of his laps, and one of them, he seemed to recall her name to be Thea, was kissing his ear, while the other one stretched her hand and picked up the braid on the side of his face. He cringed, such honour was to be reserved for his wife or at least a constant mistress, but he disregarded it. He was not going to bed either of them, he had to admit, the thought of the redhead's promise never left his mind, but surely little fun never harmed anybody.
The one called Thea whispered into his ear, "Excuse me, my lord, I have to abandon you for a wee bit, but I'll be back." He looked at her, and she suddenly caught his mouth in a passionate kiss. She knew what she was doing, and he cupped the back of her head, his hand full of her heavy silky curls. She tore her mouth off his with a gasp and murmured, her eyes slightly glassy, "Maiar help me, no wonder she's so fussy..." She shook her head clearing her thoughts, and he was too relaxed and inebriated to question her words. "I will be back soon, my lord, and I'll come bearing gifts." She slid off his knee and left quickly. He had no time to lament her absence, since the second woman decided that since Thea had had some taste she was entitled as well. She was less experienced, but her lips were no less soft.
He dove out of the kiss when he heard a loud pointed cough above him. The thief was standing in front of him. At least he assumed it was her, since the lower half of her face was covered by a thick black veil, and he choked. She was dressed in a similarity of a Haradrim outfit, slightly bastardised, to be wearable in a city of Men, but there were wide trousers, a long scarlet tunic, heavy golden earrings and a choker on her neck. There was black paint around her eyes, and they were burning. That was how he recognised her right away, by the eyes, their slanted shape and the thick lashes, and the everchanging colour of the irises.
"Do you like the gift I brought for you, my lord?" He heard Thea's mocking voice, and momentarily he felt angered. The wench was the thief's spy, and he was played like a wet nosed tot!
"Oh how lovely, a Northern vagabond!" The Master half lifted his head from the table and slurred, "A song! A song!"
A couple men joined him, and soon all the hall was chanting demanding a song. She unclasped the veil from the golden chains weaved into her hair, and he saw a cold smile playing on her lips.
"Will she play tambourine? They always have tambourines!" An excited voice in Thorin's ear reminded him that there was a lass still sitting on his lap, and like the last half-witted adolescent caught in a compromising position he panicked and did the most foolish thing he could. He pushed her off his lap like a sack of flour. He should have kept his dignity and behaved as if nothing was wrong in his conduct. And by Durin's beard, there was nothing! Now he had one enraged woman who rose from a floor and punched his shoulder, while the other one, who honestly speaking was the one that mattered, was giving him a derisive smile.
The redhead stepped back from him, and indeed there was a tambourine in her hand. She sprinted across the room and jumped on a table right in front of Fili. He yelled in excitement clapping his hands, and she threw him a look over her shoulder, her perky buttocks right above him. Judging by his dazed look, her outfit was having a potent effect on him. Thorin couldn't argue. The wide silken belt wrapped around her miniscule waist, wide flowing trousers, her tiny feet in leather slippers, and the scarlet tunic, overall she looked like an exotic bird or a tongue of flame. She twisted her body in a seductive movement and gently banged the tambourine to her hip. Thorin was certain every man's eyes immediately fell on the said part of her anatomy. She started lightly shaking the instrument, her tiny foot tapping an obvious rhythm, and Thorin cursed the musicality of his race. All Dwarves immediately started stomping supporting her rhythm, spoons followed, mugs, kettles and bottlenecks, and soon she had a wonderful background for her song. She sharply turned, and her burning eyes met his. She bent is a slow low bow, her orange curls swished in the air, and her red lips twitched derisively.
"The song for the King, King Thorin!" Her voice was strong and confident, upper red lip curved stubbornly, and she started singing, her slender, limber body moving at the rhythm, steps measured and light, her feet sliding between dishes on the tables.
Hey! Clear the way in the old borough!
Hey you! Let us through! It's a bright new star!
Oh come! Be the first on your block to meet his eye!
Make way! Here he comes!
Ring bells! Bang the drums!
Are you gonna love this guy!
She pointed at him with her index finger and thrust her hips sideways.
King Thorin! Fabulous he!
Thorin Oakenshield!
Genuflect, show some respect,
Down on one knee!
Now, try your best to stay astute
Brush up your sunday salute,
Then come and meet his spectacular coterie!
She sang and danced, her body lithe, her arms drawing mesmerizing waves in the air, the amber eyes outlined by the black shining, and with each step she moved closer to his table. He felt hot under his collar. She was somehow terrifying and at the same time the most desirable woman he had ever seen in his life.
King Thorin! Mighty is he!
Thorin Oakenshield,
Strong as ten regular men, definitely!
He faced the galloping hordes,
A hundred bad guys with swords,
Who sent those Orcs to their lords?
Why, King Thori-i-in!
He's got twelve glorious Dwarves,
Lovely nephews, he's got even two!
When it comes to exotic-type serfs,
Has he got a hobbit?
I'm telling you, it's a world-class menagerie!
She ended in front of him, and continuing to sway her hips in the most enticing way she lowered herself in front of him, and her hands, the little fingers curled, raked his chest.
King Thorin! Handsome is he, Thorin Oakenshield,
That physique! How can I speak, weak at the knee-e-e?!
She jumped up, exaggeratedly pressed her hand to her forehead and swayed, feigning faintness, and then moved again.
Well, get on out in that square
Adjust your hats and prepare
To gawk and grovel and stare at King Thori-i-in!
While singing she made a circle around the hall, since the tables were standing in a line along all four walls of it, and she was beckoning other women. Several of towns women rushed to Thorin and hands started brushing his hair, ears and neck. Her cohort, Thea was especially industrious, her hands wandering his chest. She bend backwards and pointed at the women surrounding him with her tambourine,
He's got plenty of willing love monkeys
And his Dwarves had the nerve to join in,
He's got the monkeys, let's see the monkeys!
To which she smiled coldly and continued,
And to view them he charges no fee!
He's got slaves, he's got servants and flunkies
She snapped her fingers, and the Dwarves chimed in,
Proud to work for him!
She jumped off the table and bent backward, lifting her leg, which formed a straight line with the other one, and he took a spasmodic breath in. She placed her palms on the floor behind her, both legs suddenly pointed at the ceiling, in a perfect handstand, and then she slowly lowered them, completing a flip, and straightened up.
They bow to his whim, love serving him
They're just lousy with loyalty to Thorin!
King Thori-i-in!
Three wide strides, graceful like leaps of a mountain lion, and she was in front of his table. She dropped her torso on it, stretched her arms towards him. The tips of her fingers quickly ran his chest, she rolled on her back, and her angular face with the wide open eyes was right on front of him. As if without his will he lowered his face, but she gracefully slithered off the table, when his lips were just an inch away from her red mouth, he could almost taste that upside kiss on his lips she deprived him of, and she straightened up and twirled around the hall. The long ribbons of red and orange silk unwrapped from around her neck, and he watched her transfixed. She spun quicker and quicker, her voice gaining more and more strength.
Majestic he! Thorin Oakenshield!
Heard your mountain was a sight lovely to see,
And that, good people, is why
He got dolled up and dropped by
With thirteen Dwarves, beards galore,
With his hobbit and wizard,
An Elven blade and more,
With his stormy brows, his grouchy looks, his braids, and
His Dwarves that warble on key!
Make way for King Thori-i-in!
She dropped on the floor, her back arched, one arm in the air slightly shaking the tambourine, as if in the aftershocks of her song, and the town hall exploded with applause, cheering and whistles. She slowly rose and beckoned him with a finger. He decided that manners be damned, this invitation was enough. He jumped over his table, lunged to her and grabbed the stretched hand. She pulled him closer, breathed out into his burning face, "Your room, now!" and dragged him out of the town hall. He rushed after her, grabbing a jug with wine from the nearest table, congratulations and innuendos flying after him. She rushed across the street, her strong little hand in his, her mind-blowing outfit flashing in front of him in the darkness of the cold night, on the stairs of the inn she let go of him and sprinted. He picked up speed, and finally they were in his room. He slammed the door behind him, and she slowly turned around, her eyes burning, red lips stretched in a feral grin, cheeks flushed, and hair in a halo around her head.