Nothing truly extraordinary happened during the years that followed the settlement of the Dwarves in the Blue Mountains ; slowly and quietly, the months went by, then the years. A warm and sunny autumn was followed by a very harsh winter, then an early spring that brought life back into the mountains. The community prospered thanks to the mines, that were the heart of their civilization. Money started flowing again, and the pitiful hovels they had found when they had arrived were soon replaced by more majestic homes, built by strong dwarven hands. It was still far from the glory of Erebor, but it was better than anything they had known during their years of wandering ; it was a home, a true home, a place that belonged to no one but themselves.
A year or so after their arrival, Thorin went to sit next to Laurelin, one evening. It was high summer again, and even if night had fallen the air was still hot and stifling ; the young woman had bound her hair in a bun to keep it from falling down her sticky back, and she had rolled up her sleeves. She smiled at Thorin when he sat down on the sheepskin next to her. He was all sweaty, too. His long black hair was hanging in limp strands around his face.
He sighed, then he asked her if she wanted to visit the mines with him, the next morning.
« Most of the steel I am working with in the forge is made of iron from these mines. » he told her. « We don't need to buy our raw material from the humans anymore, now, as we did before we reached these mountains. And I'd like you to come with me, tomorrow. I'd like you to listen while I talk to the foreman. He's a greedy man, and he'll try to wring as much gold out of us as possible, but we still need what he has to offer – so have to negotiate. So far I've been doing it myself, but maybe one day you'll be able to do this for me, giving me more time for actual work in the forge. »
Laurelin was quite startled – Thorin visited the mines regularly, but never before had he asked her to come with him. She felt a shiver of excitement run down her back. No one was allowed into the mines, except the people who worked there it was a rule made to prevent the accidents that were bound to happen when unwelcome people with no experience of underground work intruded into the mines. Neither Laurelin nor any of the Dwarves living in the village had ever seen them with their own eyes, even if they had heard rumors about their grandeur. Being allowed to go in there would be a real privilege.
She didn't sleep well that nigh, her impatience growing with every hour. When morning came at last, she jumped out of her bed and dressed quicker than ever before.
Yet when they reached the mines, after a short walk through the village, one of the miners – a gruff Dwarf with a grizzled beard and bushy eyebrows – told them that the foreman was currently unavailable. They would have to wait, maybe for several hours. Laurelin expected a dready wait in some dark hall, or maybe they would go home and come back later, but Thorin surprised her when he offered her a beaming smile. She wondered what he was thinking.
« I'm actually glad we have some time. » he said. « There's something I want to show you. It's a very special place, that not many people have seen. I'm sure you will like it. »
Laurelin was even more startled, now. She followed him without a word. At some point, they walked past a sign saying No trespassing.
Laurelin hesitated.
« Can we truly go there ? » she asked worriedly.
« Why not ? » Thorin replied. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood. « I am the King, am I not ? I can go wherever I want. It's not a piece of wood that will tell me what I can or can't do. » Then he chuckled softly,
« Of course. » she whispered, feeling a bit dumb for asking such a stupid question.
A few more stpes, and the sign was behind them, out of sight. They reached the entrance of a cave : a very narrow tunnel plunged in complete darkness. Laurelin saw nothing at all. Thorin grabbed one of the torches hanging on a wall nearby the wavering flames made shadows and light dance on the man's proud face.
« Close your eyes. » he told her, and she obeyed. She was more and more puzzled by
his attitude.
For a moment, Thorin wanted to take her hand, but then he realized it might not be appropriate to do so even if Thorin saw much more in her than just a maid, he was not sure whether the opposite was true as well. Maybe Laurelin saw no more in him than just a master. She might feel embarrassed by this contact, particularly if some miner happened to come by and see them holding hands. So he just grabbed her by the elbow, very softly, but firmly enough to reassure her. It felt strange – in a pleasant way – to see her so vulnerable in his hands. He felt flattered to see how much she trusted him. She didn't hesitate as he led her forwards, very slowly and carefully. Once or twice she stumbled upon the uneven ground, but Thorin's hand steadied her and kept her from falling.
Laurelin just followed him without a word. Even if she saw nothing, she was sure no harm would come her way as long as she was in Thorin's hands.
Soon, they reached their destination. Thorin made her stop, and the young woman could feel a cold draft of wind on her face.
« Open your eyes, now. » Thorin told her, and by his tone Laurelin guessed he was smiling.
In truth, Thorin had wanted to show her this place for a long time, but there had never been a true opportunity before. And now he was impatient to see how she would react when she would discover the marvels of this hidden cave.
Laurelin opened her eyes, very slowly, not knowing what to expect. Then she gaped at the beauty of the cave. She had always imagined underground caves to be damp, dark places full of threatening shadows, but what she was now contemplating was something completely different. She had never seen something like that before. It was a subterranean forest of glittering stalactites and stalagmites in every direction, as far as the eye could see, pink and orange pillars shaped by centuries of dripping water linked the ground to the ceiling. Some of them were soft and smooth, almost graceful, while others were crooked and rough and oddly shaped one of the stalagmites looked like an old man, with legs and arms and even a grumpy wrinkled face.
« This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. » Laurelin said in a weak voice, her heart beating fast with emotion. « It's like stepping into another world. » She was staring wide-eyed
at the surreal landscape around her. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. « So much beauty hidden in the darkness... »
Her last words had been barely audible. She was far too awed to do more than whispering. She could feel how old everything was – it must have taken hundreds, if not thousands of years to grow stalactites like these. She felt small and humble, but she smiled as her fingers brushed a damp white stone shaped like a cauliflower.
« And you've seen nothing yet. » Thorin added, pleased to see that Laurelin was enjoying the visit. A broad smiled adorned her pretty face, and her eyes kept going from one rock formation to the next, as if she was trying to burn every little detail in her memory. Thorin led her along a narrow path, then over a small underground river, till they reached a second cave.
It was much smaller, but its beauty was just as breathtaking. A dozen of small rivulets joined her to form a lake its surface was smooth as a mirror, its water black and bottomless. Laurelin stepped closer, and watched her reflection on the calm water.
« I've heard rumors about this place, when I visited the towns of men in the valley. » Thorin explained, kneeling on the shore to touch the water with the tip of his fingers. « The human miners that worked here long ago believed there was magic in this water. They say you have to throw a coin in the water, and then make a wish – and the spitrits of the water that dwell here will make it come true. » He chuckled once more. « Men are such superstitious poeple. » he added, bet he still seized a tiny copper coin from his pocket and tossed it into the dark water.
Laurelin smiled as she watched him.
« What did you wish for ? » she asked softly.
Thorin shrugged, and his only answer was an enigmatic smile.
Laurelin knelt next to Thorin, in silence. She had a few worthless coppers in her pocket, too. She picked one, then she threw it into the water her eyes were fixed on the graceful ripples it created on the surface of the water. Then she looked at Thorin, with a soft smile on her face.
« What did you wish for ? » he asked, smiling as well. Even though he was truly curious about her wish, he had only asked this question to tease her, because she had asked the same earlier. He knew she would probably not answer such a personal question.
« My mother always told me that if you speak a wish aloud, it can't come true. » she said, wondering if the spirits of this lake would really grant her what she so desperately desired. She closed her eyes for a few moments, savoring the silence and the stillness of this world of stone.
A few moments later, they heard steps behind them, and soon the old foreman who was in charge of the mines joined them. He was short and sturdy, with streaks of white in his huge red beard. His head was almost bald, and his hands were twice as big as Laurelin's.
« I have time for you, now. » he said humbly to Thorin, bowing deeply.
They walked away from the cave – Laurelin shot one last glance at the lake, wondering whether she would ever see it again – then she followed both man in silence. They didn't take the same path they had taken to come here, but a small meandering road that led them to the habitable parts of the mines, where the miners lived when they were not at work. Living rooms and bedchambers and kitchens had been carved directly into the stone, and no light from the outside ever shone here. Laurelin knew that sometimes they could spend a fortnight – or even months – underground without coming out of the mountain, and she wondered how they survived without seeing the light of the sun for such a long period.
They reached the foreman's office, a small chamber with rough walls carved into the rocks, too. Maps and charts and rolled-up parchments were cluttering the heavy oaken desk, but the Dwarf just shoved everything aside, and invited Thorin and Laurelin to sit down. The chair was not particularly comfortable, but Laurelin didn't say a word.
Thorin and the old foreman talked about the cave-in that happened a few days ago, and about plans to dig new tunnels in the eastern section of the mines they talked about the purity of copper and iron ore, and about how thze safety of the workers could be improved by reinforcing some of the most dangerous tunnels with wooden pillars. The discussed the productivity of the mines, and the wealth it would bring them in the years to come. Laurelin listened to them with rapt attention, trying to remembere everything, for an hour or so. And then it came to negotiation. At first, the foreman asked for an exorbitant price, leaving Laurelin speechless – was Thorin not the King ? The one who had led them all here ? Did he not deserve to get some special treatment ? Was that Dwarf really so greedy ? But soon, she saw that Thorin was not ready to let himself be walked over by the other one. Laurelin admired him as he negotiated in a voice both firm and persuasive, till in the end he obtained what he wanted : a faire price for what he needed. Then they signed a contract in black ink, and shook hands.
« I will see it delivered to your forge. » the foreman said with a repsectful nod.
« Thank you. » Thorin replied.
Once everything was settled, Thorin took Laurelin with him to visit the mines. Soon, the young woman got lost in the contemplation of this underworld. Hundreds of tunnels opened in each wall – some of them lit with torches and full of miners at work, other pitch dark and silent as a tomb. Suspended bridges of rope and planks allowed the workers to go from one place to the other, and at some point the found a hole in the ground that looked like the mouth of some giant monster – dark and foreboding. Laurelin shivered, and hurried past the opening without looking at it.
Miners were bustling like ants all around them, looking small and unsignifiant compared to the vastness of this place.
« Time to leave. » Thorin decided, once they had done a quick tour of the upper levels. « There's much more to see, but I have work wiating for me at the forge, and I cannot lose any more time. And I cannot allow you to stay here alone, either. It's far too dangerous. If you're interested in seeing more we maycome backanother day, but for now I have an axe to finish. »
Laurelin nodded, and a few moments later they emerged into the sunlight again. It was so blinding, after the darkness of the mines, that Laurelin had to blink for a few seconds. Then they walked home together.
« So. » Thorin started, once they were inside, sheltered from the sweltering heat outside. « What did you think of the mines ? »
« It's a very impressive place, » she admitted. « Yet what I liked best was not the mines. It was the small acve with the stalactites, and the black lake. It was so... so unreal... Almost too beautiful to be true... » The pictures of the cave came back to her mind, all these shades of orange and pink and brown, and the flickering light of the flames making it all look almost alive.
When Thorin saw her dreamy eyes, he realized how much she had truly appreciated. He couldn't help but smile. She was so easy to please most women expected jewels and treasures and outrageously expensive dresses, but Laurelin was happy with almost nothing. It was a quality he appreciated. She was easy to live with, and not once – since she had moved into the forge – had he felt the slightest regret about this decision.
« I always imagined caves to be dreadful places, but today I changed my mind about them, » she admitted. « Thank you for showing me, my King. »
« My pleasure, Laurelin, » he replied curteously.
She looked him into the eyes, and they shared a smile of complicity.
When the heat of the summer receded, replaced by a warm glowing autmun that turned the forests into flaming landscapes, there was another event that Laurelin remembered quite clearly. She had left the forge in company of Thorin, but soon the King of the Dwarves left her alone to talk with an old friend of his. Laurelin decided to go for a walk on the northern border of town there, she gathered bramble leaves to dry – she would use them this winter, in her tea, to cure cough and sore throats – and gather some late flowers for her grand-mother's tomb. When her basket was full, she decided it was time to walk home. She enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face.
And then, as she walked past the seamstress' shop, and her heart suddenly missed a beat when she saw all the gorgeous dresses spread in the morning light. They were dressed made for ladies, for sure – rich fabrics of silk and velvet and lace, and tight bodices embroidered with golden thread, and long ornate sleeves that flowed gracefully around the wrist... The colors were like a feast for the eye : emerald and blood red, deep blue and turquoise, shimmering black and creamy white with iridescent glints...
The woman who will wear those will feel like princesses, she reflected.
Laurelin stepped closer, and suddenly she remembered all the pretty ladies of Erebor, as she had known them before Smaug's attack. They were so gorgeous, so elegant... So refined in their adorned dresses, with braids and beads in their hair... Laurelin lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly very sad. That's how a true woman is supposed to look, she realized. That's what I should look like, too, if I want to catch the eye of a decent man. Very briefly, Thorin's picture flickered in her mind, before disappearing again when Laurelin's fingers brushed the rich, flowing velvet of a silvery dress.
She sighed, then she walked home in silence, so distracted that she didn't even recognize the neighbor woman when she walked past her.
Once she was inside the house, she climbed the stairs an spread the bramble leaves on the small worktable she had retrived from one of the empty bedrooms the sun was shining on it through the window, so they would dry well. Then, as she was about to walk out, she suddenly grabbed her small cracked mirror and watched her own reflection. She didn't like what she saw – her unappealing slender silhouette lacked the opulent shapes of a true Dwarf-woman... Her face was weathered from spending too much time outside, tending the garden or washing the clothes at the river... Her hands were rough and callused from work... Her hair looked better than it had during their exile, yet it was still flat and dull... Her dress was old and worn and shapeless, making her look like a scarecrow... Of course, most other women of the village worked hard and looked like this, too – she was no exception – yet Laurelin couldn't help but compare herself to the highborn ladies she had seen during her childhood in Erebor. And the Lady Dis, too, that she saw at least twice a week.
I am no more than a dull and pathetic semblance of a woman. She realized. Her eyes listened, then filled with tears. How could any decent man ever see her as a woman worthy of interest ? There was nothing remarkable about her.
At this moment, she heard the door open as Thorin came home. She pictured him in her head, so tall and strong and handsome. He was not for her, and he would never be. A single tear ran down her peachy cheeks, then she rubbed it awya with her sleeve, put a forced smile on her face, and climbed down the stairs to start cooking the midday meal.
That's all I will ever have. She reflected bitterly. My work, and my chores.
After the autimn came the winter. A harsh winter, as usual for the poeple who lived at high altitude. Snow started falling in october, thick and heavy. Cold winds blew between the white peaks of the Blue Mountains, and every morning the windows of the forge were covered in a thick layer of frost. It's during this winter that Laurelin met Vilmar.
Thorin knew that Dwarf well. He was a hunter, one of those Dwarves who had settled in the steep alpine forests, on the western slope of the mountain, instead of living with the others in the village. Usually they kept to themselves, and showed little to no interest in things like gold or jewels. They survived in the woods thanks to the game they hunted, and they got what little money they needed by selling trophies or horns or furs or leather. The most valued trophy was mouflon horns, because these animals lived so high in the mountains and could climb so agilely that killing them was extremely difficult. These hunters only visited the village when they needed to by the rare things nature didn't provide for them, and that's how Vilmar ended up in Thorin's forge one morning – to order a set of new arrowheads.
The first time he came, Thorin was not there so it was up to Laurelin to welcome him. He talked with her for a while, with a charming smile on his face, then he said he would come back later. The second time he came, a few hours later, Thorin was there but Vilmar still insisted to share some words with Laurelin after he was finished talking with the King.
And after that, he came almost every day, on the pretense of giving Thorin explanations about what he wanted his arrowheads to look like – but it was obvious to everybody that the real reason behind his visits was Laurelin.
At first, Thorin didn't like this intrusion. He knew most of the hunters were humble and decent folk, and this one in particular had never given him any reason to doubt his honesty, yet whenever Thorin saw him talking to Laurelin he felt a pang of dislike. He had not forgotten what had happened to her all those years ago, and he didn't want soemthing similar to happen once more. She had endured anough pain and hardship. She really didn't need to suffer yet another blow. Sometimes, it made him so uneasy to see her with this man that it haunted his nights he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find sleep or to forget Laurelin's smile as she looked at Vilmar. And what about that one time she had laughed at one of Vilmar's jests ? This feeling of uneasiness was burning in him day and night, like red-hot iron, and filled even the happiest moments of his live with gloom.
Sometimes he questioned himself, wondering why he was feeling such things, and at first he thought he had found the answer – because he cared for her. He wanted her to be safe and protected. Yet after a few days, he realized it was more than just that. He didn't have a name for what he was feeling – because it was something he had never felt before, for anybody – but it made him want to kick the intruder out of his forge at once.
As for Laurelin, Thorin couldn't really tell whether she appreciated him or not. She was always polite and smiling, of course, but she always kept a safe distance between them, too – did she do so because she was too shy to relax in his presence ? Or because she wasn't enjoying his presence ? Did she want Thorin to help her drive him away ? Did she want a few hour's leave to spend more time with the Dwarf ? She was, after all, old enough to be courted now. She may be looking for a husband to found a family. She may like this Dwarf. Or she may not.
Thorin was so confused about it - and since he didn't like to be confused – he decided to talk to her one evening.
Let's clear it up, so at least I will know how to react next time he shows up.
Laurelin had just left her usual spot in front of the fire, and was about to go upstairs, when Thorin called her back.
« Laurelin ? » he called softly. « Can I have an honest talk with you ? »
« Of course, my King. » she said, a bit surprised and worried. Did she do something wrong, perhaps ?
« I have seen you talking to Vilmar this morning. » he started very gently, to make sure she didn't take it as a rebuke or something like that. « He's coming here very often, these day, and we both know it's not my swords or my arrowheads that interest him. »
« I... yes. » she said, but she didn't know how to continue. Talking about that made her horribly uncomfortable. « He's been here almost every day. He never said it plainly, but he... he made it clear he has some interest in me. »
Thorin felt a flash of anger as he heard those words, but he refrained himself from showing it. In truth, he didn't have reason at all to be angry, did he Vilmar was just a man being nice to a woman he liked. There was nothing wrong with this. And besides, he didn't want to upset Laurelin by acting rashly in front of her, or by letting her believe she had done anything to annoy him.
Laurelin blushed. Somehow – and even though she felt no attraction to Vilmar – she was flattered. It was the first time a man was showing some interest towards her. She could still remember the man's lingering gazes, the way he smiled kindly at her, the pleasant words he told her... Once, he had even brought her a tiny cat carved into the horn of a chamois. Anybody would have guessed his feelings towards Laurelin. Even the neighbours had noticed, and had congratulated Laurelin about catching the interest of such a handsome Dwarf.
« And may I ask you how you feel about this ? » Thorin said, with a worried frown on his face. « I don't want to intrude into your private life, Laurelin. You owe me no explanations, no justifications. And you are free to do as it pleases you, of course. I just wanted to make sure he isn't bothering you. »
« No, he isn't. » Laurelin told him honestly. « I am not interested by him, as a... potential partner. But he is kind, and curteous, and talking with him is pleasant enough. He's never given me any reason to be wary. »
« Then I have no reason to worry ? »
« No reason to worry, my King. » she assured him with a smile. She was pleased to see him so protective towards her. It made her feel safe.
« If anything changes, though, I would love you to come and tell me. » Thorin said, unable to stop worrying. « If he starts being too insistant, or bothersome, or even threatening... If he does anything unpleasant, I want you to come straight to me, and he will never come close to you again. »
« I will, my King. » she said.
« Good. » He paused, then he sighed. « I'm glad we talked about it, Laurelin. At least everything is clear, now. »
Laurelin nodded approvingly, then they exchanged one last look before the young woman went to bed upstairs.
Thorin felt a strange kind of relief as she left. The idea that she may like this other Dwarf, and leave the forge to live with him in the forest, had been been gnawing at him for days. He couldn't imagine his life here without Laurelin, and he could even less imagine her in the arms of another Dwarf. He was greatly relieved to hear that none of this would happen, and for the first time in days he knew he would be able to sleep soundly.
Vilmar came once more on the following day, then the day after, and then slowly he realized it was hopeless. He came less and less frequently, till one day he stopped visiting Laurelin completely. The young woman woman felt a bit sad about it, because she liked talking to him, but she was also relieved. She knew her feelings towards him would never change, so she was glad he stopped wasting his time on somebody who would never be able to give him what he was looking for.
Now he is free to find himself another woman, she thought, and she wished him all the good luck in the world.
A few weeks later, as winter reached its height, something happened that marked a true change in the relationship between Thorin and Laurelin. They day had been awful snow and icy cold winds, and the grounds frozen as hard as stone. It was warm enough in the forge and in the adjoining house, but Thorin had been outside all day long, to help the loggers in their negotiations with the humans. He came home frozen to the bone his lips were chapped, his fingers stiff with cold and his feet so frozen they had become numb. He was not frail man, yet he was shivering from head to toe. Even before food, he asked for a hot bath. Laurelin hurried to prepare it for him there was warm water on the hearth already, but she still needed to haul bucket after bucket upstairs, to Thorin's bedroom. She poured it into the tub, and soon the room was filled with hot steam.
When she was finished, she found Thorin and told him the bath was ready.
« Thank you. » he said with a weak smile. He started climbing the stairs, very slowly. When he reached the middle of the staircase, he turned around. « Laurelin... Would you mind helping me to remove my boots ? My fingers are so cold and stiff. I won't be able to open all the buckles by myself. »
« Of course, my King. » she said.
She entered into Thorin's bedroom with him, and when he sat on his bed she quickly opened the buckles of his boots, as he had asked her. She could feel how cold his skin was, underneath the wool of his thick socks.
When she was done, she walked out again, but just before she reached the door she remembered the old times, in Erebor – and how the servants used to help their masters in the bath. She just felt like Thorin could need some extra care, today. He looked so weary, so exhausted. First she hesitated – could she realy ask something like that ? How would he react ? Would he see this as an intrusion in his private life ? She feared he would take this as some sort of depravity towards him, even though it was not her intent at all.
Then she decided to take her courage in both hands.
« My King... You look so tired tonight. » she started shyly. « You need to rest, and to relax. Maybe... » She cleared her throat, and continued. « Do you wish me to wash your back, and help you wash your hair ? I know that's what the servants used to do, in Erebor. » He looked at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Laurelin blushed. « I don't want to force my company on you after such a long hard day. I just want to help you feel better. » she added hastily. Then she lowered her eyes, and cursed herself for making this suggestion. She shouldn't have talked so impudently.
Thorin sighed, and didn't answer immediatly. He gave himself time to think about it. He wondered why she asked this now, after so many years ; did she pity him ? Did she feel pressured into doing this ? Did she think she had no other choice, since she had seen other servants do this years
ago in Erebor ?
« I know you are kind, and I know you want to help, but I don't want you to do something you are uncomfortable with. » He paused. « It's your choice, and I won't blame you if you don't feel up to doing what other servants did in Erebor. To be honest, I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and I would gladly accept yout offer – but only if you think you can do it without feeling ill at ease, or anything. There is no pressure on you, no duty whatsoever »
« I will gladly do anything that helps you feel better. » she said with genuine kindness. Thenshe added in a timid voice : « And well... You're no stranger to me, my King. I have no reasons to be uncomfortable in your presence. »
Thorin smiled.
« No, we're definitely not strangers. » he agreed amiably. He was pleased to see that the young woman was truly relaxed and comfortable. Playing the stern and commanding master who frightened his serving people, like some other Dwarf-lords liked to do, had never appealed to him he wanted the people who work for him to trust him, and appreciate his company. And obviously, judging by Laurelin's behavior, he had succeeded. She was calm and smiling, and being around her felt like true friends being in each other's company. It was a pleasant feeling. Very pleasant. He smiled, and removed the boots she had opened for him. His fingers were starting to warm up. The pain was awful, but he knew it would get better soon.
Before Thorin even said a word to her, Laurelin walked out of the bedroom to give him privacy while he undressed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. She prepared the table for Thorin's dinner, after the bath, and when she was done she knocked at his door.
« Can I enter, my King ? » she asked softly.
When Thorin answered yes, she opened the door and entered. He was sitting in his tub, and only the upper half of his body was visible the rest was hidden underneath the surface of the hot water. Yet it was enough to make her feel slightly giddy she hadn't seen him like that since the day she had cared for her wounds, after the battle of the Moria. She could see his skin, and his muscles, and his battle scars. For a brief moment, she froze and didn't know what to do, then suddenly she remembered her duties – but she carefully avoided to let her gaze linger on the man's bare chest. She was too respectful and well-mannered to act in a way that could be interpreted as inappropriate.
She grabbed the soap and the washing cloth, and sat on a small stool behind him.
« Is the water warm enough ? » she asked.
« It's perfect. » he replied in deep, weary voice.
« I'm going to wash your back, now. » she informed him, then she started washing him.
She started by removing Thorin's hair from his shoulders, then her soft and warm hands made contact with his cold skin. Laurelin felt a brief but violent shiver run across her whole body. She started rubbing his back, but her touch was so soft and delicate that it felt more like a caress than a tre scrubbing. She could feel how stiff his muscles were under his skin, then she felt him relax slightly as she kept frictioning his back. The scent of the perfumed soap was helping, too, as well as the warmth of the water.
At first, Thorin barely felt her light touch, but then slowly her hands grew firmer, stronger, and he closed his eyes to savor the moment. It was nice to be sitting here in the hot water, with the smells of soap floating in the air, and nothing to do but to let his mind drift off. It was a real privilege, he realized. Something he had lost with the fall of Erebor, and that he was glad to have again, now. And the fact that it was Laurelin, and not just a mere servant, made it even better – he would have felt uneasy if some stranger had intruded into his intimacy and touched him in such a way, which would have taken away some of the pleasure. But from Laurelin he could accept it without the situation being awkward. Her hands moved as if she knew exactly what he needed, almost as if she could read in his mind. It was the most pleasant feeling in the world. He wanted it to last forever.
When she was done, she put back the washing clothes and grabbed a small wooden cup. She filled it with water, then she poured it onto Thorin's head, that he had docilely leaned back. His hair was long and thick, as black as a crow's wings. Laurelin applied a thick coat of soap on them, then she rubbed it thoroughly for a few minutes. Thorin didn't speak his eyes were closed, and Laurelin guessed he was already half-asleep. She didn't want to disturb him with her chattering, so she kept silent as well, enjoying this new task more than she should have. She also took the time to rub his scalp, very softly, with infinite delicacy, from his forehead to his neck.
She finished by washing the soap off his hair, very carefully, making sure the warm water didn't run down his face, before running water down his chest and back, to warm him up. She was pleased to hear him sigh in contentment.
« I am finished, my King. » she said gently, a few minutes later.
« Thank you. » Thorin said in a sleepy voice, barely more than a whisper. « It was very kind of you. »
She was smiling, happy that Thorin had appreciated her ministrations.
« I will prepare the dinner now. » she said. « Everything will be ready by the time you are finished. I've prepared you a set of warm, comfortable clothes. They're on your bed, right there. »
« Thank you. » he repeated, and this time a tiny smile turned up the corners of his lips.
She walked to the door, then she turned around one last time. She didn't look at him directly – it would have been rude to stare at him while he was undressed – but she pointed at the towel that hung over the back of a chair, where Thorin could reach it when he would get out of the bath.
« I warmed it next to the fire. »
Thorin heaved a deep sigh of contentment.
« I don't know what I would do without you, Laurelin. » he said, and he truly meant it. She was ever so helpful. His life would have been a good deal harder if she had not been standing at his side, ready to satisfy his every needs.
Then she left his bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Once the door was closed, Thorin opened his eyes again, and watched longingly at the place where Laurelin had been standing moments before. Her presence had been soothing and relaxing, and the room suddenly felt very cold now that she was gone. Very lonely, too. He took a deep breath, and in spite of his exhaustion he hurried to finish his bath, so he would be able to join her in the kitchen as soon as possible.
On the other side of the door, Laurelin sighed as she descended the stairs to go into the kitchen. She could still feel his skin under her fingers, at first so cold, then warm and pleasantly soft... And his muscles, too... Years and years of sword practice had left their mark on him, shaping his body to something that was close to perfection. Being so close to him had been pleasant... Not only close like two friends, like they had been before – but physically close... She had enjoyed this new taks, and she hoped she had been good at it, good enough for Thorin to ask it from her again, in the future.
The only dark cloud that marred her happiness, that night, was the amount of scars she had seen on Thorin's body. Sword scars gathered during the battles. Some of them she had bandaged herself, so many years ago, after the battle of Azanulbizar... Others were even older, and some were still quite fresh... There had been a small skirmish with a group of human smugglers, a few months ago...
He deserves some peace and quiet in his life, now, Laurelin reflected as she stirred the pot of stew. He's had enough of battles and violence.