So much romance! Can you stand the strain? I hope you aren't getting tired of it, but there is a change of scene coming. Clever reviewers dojoson41 and LeDbrite anticipated my plot twist, so welcome an old friend and please review!

Chapter 48

In the dusky glow of their room, he nuzzled her nose and laid his head next to hers after an afternoon nap, but it wasn't enough. A nuzzle turned into a soft touch of his lips on her waiting mouth. Still not enough. Holding her head with the back of his hand, he pulled her forward and kissed the hollow of her throat down to her chest. He was fully rested and eager to make the most of what time was left.

"Don't stop there," she said in a throaty whisper.

"I wasn't planning to," he murmured, his hands and mouth making her feel like the most loved women in the world.

"I love you, Thorin," she said a little out of breath. He smoothed her hair over her back and stroked the curve of her neck. "More than I ever thought I could, and I thought I loved you plenty when I dreamed about you as a little girl."

"Infatuation only," he said while stroking her thigh with two fingers. "Not that I am complaining, but I much prefer the love of a beautiful woman."

"And I prefer the real thing.

"What would have happened if I'd loved you back, I wonder?" Even in the lamplight, he could see her blush. "You can't feign embarrassment now, love, not when I know all of you."

Moving closer, she rolled on her hip and opened her mouth as if to kiss him him but pulled back at the last moment. His eagerness was replaced by frustration, and he grunted his displeasure. She leaned away and smiled with a flirtatious lift of her chin, and his pupils widened.

"You asked a question. Don't you want an answer?"

"Not at the moment."

"Thorin!" and she batted away his wandering hands. "Thorin, stop."

Falling back on his pillow he huffed and stared up at the patterns of light rippling along the ceiling. "Very well." She smiled and ran her finger along his thigh.

"Woman," he warned, "don't start what you don't plan to finish." She giggled and curled toward him and he toward her like children sharing secrets.

"Anyway, we'd swordfight with sticks and afterward play tea party. Frain never wanted to." She paused and frowned. "Then we'd eat biscuits and play house with my dolls. He never wanted to do that either, especially since I wanted him to put his hair in pigtails and wear a dress."

Throwing his head back, Thorin laughed a full body laugh and rolled on his back clutching his stomach. His eyes closed into crescents, and a flash of dimples was followed by a full view of white teeth. Leaning on her side, she propped her head on her hand and watched her husband laugh himself to tears. Even at her expense, she was pleased to see him so merry. No girlish dream had prepared her for what a wonderful lover, husband, and even friend he was.

That last was a surprise. Frain was the closest person to her in the world, but there was much she had hidden from him over the years. However, Thorin needed no protecting; indeed, she wondered if he'd ever needed protecting. Instead he made her feel safe in a way she never had before. In their chambers and in his arms, she found herself sharing things she'd never told anyone. So many hurts that never fully healed but only festered under the thinnest bandage of survival. His comfort was a salve, but she wondered at times if he might tire of listening. She needn't have worried.

It was also his intensity about their love-making that amazed her. In a light moment two days ago, she had teased him about his voracious appetite, saying that his enjoyment in making love came from the length of time he'd gone without. In a flash, his expression changed to serious and unsmiling. Taking her hand, he held it to his chest and pressed it over his heart that thumped against her fingers.

"No," he said, "no, because I had never made love before. There was no love to make before. As I said, it was physical gratification only. My heart and my mind were far away, and I was ashamed to have used a woman for that purpose. You are the only one I have ever and will ever make love to. Please do not make light about something so dear to both of us."

His devotion wasn't the only thing that took her breath away though. Late at night, after he had fallen asleep, she would stare at him and finger the tousled locks of hair that fell over his shoulders and along his cheeks. Her cool fingers would trace the muscles of his chest, and she'd stifle a giggle as he shivered in response. Slipping down in the sheets opposite him, she watched his face, so unguarded and carefree.

"I love you, Thorin," she would whisper in his ear. "I will always love you." Those moments were most precious because his face would relax and a soft smile appear. The love he showed both awake and asleep thrilled her, and to add to all his other virtues, he was simply, truly, and absolutely the most handsome dwarf who ever lived. Of that she was sure, and he was all hers. Bemma might well think the same of Frain, and Relianna wasn't blind to her brother's looks, but her friend was wrong. Dark hair, flashing blue eyes, deep dimples, a rakish smile, and a fervent love were enough to melt her knees.

She shook her head at her rememberings and watched his laughter turn to amused chuckles.

"Are you done, my love?" she asked after he had caught his breath.

"Not quite."

With an affectionate smile, she leaned back and waited, so she was unprepared when he lunged for her, uttering a throaty growl of satisfaction after he caught her in his arms.

"I believe you were going to seduce me a moment ago, and I intend to hold you to it," he said with that slow smile that matched the heat in his eyes. He held her chest to his with his other arm tight against her back. "I want all you have to offer, love. It's been too long since I've eaten, and I'm ravenous."

She waited a beat.

"Tea and biscuits then?"

He answered her cheek with well-placed tickles. After she was done gasping, she fell back on the pillows, and he pushed on top of her.

"One of the many things I love about you," he said after a quick kiss, "is that you make me laugh. I have never laughed so much in my life. Like I said before, even reclaiming Erebor wasn't as joyous. Now come here."

After a strenuous time together, he gathered her in his arms. She was limp and he was sated, and he coaxed her head on his shoulder. Idly playing with his chest and running her fingers through his mat of dark hair, she returned to their previous subject with a question of her own.

"So what would you have done if you had met me when you were young—assuming we were about the same age?"

"I'm glad you made that adjustment, love, or I would be locked away forever for having such passion for a mere babe." He pulled away and looked into her eager eyes. She obviously wanted a pleasing answer, and he wasn't sure he could give her an honest one. Many dwarf women had pursued him in obvious and not-so-obvious ways over the years, and he never gave them a moment's notice when they sashayed by. Would he have done the same to Relianna? Then again, she wouldn't have sought his attention in that way, and she never would have resorted to painting her face or wearing scandalous clothes, but what would he have thought about her being a mixed-blood? Before the quest and his bout of gold sickness, he was as bigoted as most others. That truth stung his heart.

"I was consumed with duty and obligations when I came of age," he said while watching her face. "I had little time to think of such things, yet if I had met you in one of my few moments of respite, I would have been …. His expression grew thoughtful. "I would have been …." He shook his head while she raised her brows. Her letters had intrigued him, but when he saw her in daylight, his response was visceral and immediate. "I expect I would have responded much as I did when I first met you, love." Suddenly he was sure. "I would have seen you as the answer to my loneliness, just as I do now, but I would have loved you for your own sake. Passionately and irrevocably."

"What about me being a mixed-blood?"

"If couldn't control myself when I first saw you," he said with lustful appreciation, "I can only think that as a younger dwarf I would have had to bite through my hand to keep myself from you. I can't explain it, but your beauty—both your shape and your face—inflamed me, and after knowing your heart, I would have done anything and offered you anything to win you, just as I would now."

She sighed and snuggled against him. He was relieved to know he could give her a pleasing answer after all.

"I understand your hesitation, Thorin," she said while stroking his face. "You didn't have a mother singing my praises."

"Thank Mahal for her," he said with reverence. "I miss her every day, but I cherish above all things the precious gift she prepared for me."

After spending a few more minutes entwined in each other's arms, Relianna yawned and stretched. It was time to get up and ready for Frain and Bemma's feast, only this time invited guests numbered about a hundred. Thorin had invited those of influence who were pragmatic enough to support Frain and Bemma.

"What do I do, Thorin?" she asked while she brushed out her hair. "This my first official function with your people."

"Our people," he corrected. He paused. Things had changed, and he heaved a great sigh. Their short time together had been magical, and he loathed the thought of subjecting her to the politics that were sure to come. Still, they couldn't rule from their chambers either, although the thought had crossed his mind.

"So Frain and Bemma took seven days?" she asked, well knowing the answer. "They're taking revenge for having to wait."

"I know," Thorin said with an amused twinkle in his eye. "What in Mahal's name are they doing in there?"

"Did Frain really say that?"

"Kili told me."

They laughed together and donned their finery. Walking into a hall set for a more relaxed dinner, the herald announced them at the door, and everyone bowed and curtsied. After acknowledging their respect, Thorin bade them be seated. Relianna took a deep breath, and Thorin took her hand as they headed for the main table. Lady Carba sat with a handsome, black-haired dwarf with gray at the temples. He had a serious, scholarly air, but he sat closer to her than was proper for a casual acquaintance, and his arm lay on the back of her chair. Leaning against him, she looked up to ask him a question. He bent down to answer her, and his lips brushed her ear to her pink-cheeked delight. Her notebook was nowhere to be seen.

"Who is that?" Relianna asked, craning her neck for a better look, but before Thorin could answer, Lord Kerba walked up with a wide smile. He was delighted with his daughter's choice. Erebor's head librarian possessed an astounding breadth and depth of knowledge, almost as great as the repository itself, and he anticipated many stimulating conversations.

"Are you prepared to lose Naldin?" he asked. "I'm afraid he's besotted and has asked for her hand."

Thorin gave a helpless shrug. "I can hardly refuse when he's found true love at last. Do you mind that he's older?"

"How can I when you've set the example?" Lord Kerba replied. "Though in truth I'm relieved. He will rule well with my Carba when the time comes. He's thoughtful, steady, and diplomatic. I couldn't have asked for better. I believe he sent you a formal letter asking to be released from service, but you were too busy to receive it."

"That I was, but I agree with all my heart," he said with a nod toward the couple. Naldin was a treasure, and he relied on him greatly, but he wouldn't stand in the way. Besides, Naldin had trained his assistants well. He chanced to see Nori with Plumma beyond at another table, and his brows hiked up his forehead. "Is that what I think it is?"

Relianna and Lord Kerba looked over.

"It looks that way," she said, "or at least it does from her side."

"Must be something in the water," Kerba said, looking over at the head table where Frain and Bemma fed each other fine cheeses and other tidbits. A little later servers once again brought out enough fare to satisfy the heartiest of appetites.

"Think you'll run out of food, Thorin?" Frain called out. "I don't know how Erebor keeps feeding everyone like this."

"No," Thorin replied, "but the kitchen staff deserves a bonus. See to it, Balin."

"Right away," replied his trusty new council member.

Meanwhile, Erebor's nobles took a closer look at their soon-to-be queen. She felt their eyes on her and fought the desire to look their way. Instead, she sat up straight and ate while keeping her eyes on her plate. Thorin noticed her unease and whispered in her ear.

"They're not criticizing, love," he said, "just curious."

Indeed, now that they could see her from a better vantage point, they watched her interactions and those of her brother and were surprised to find them mannerly and even gracious.

"She seems quite civilized and pleasant," one noble said. A few others in listening distance agreed.

"Not like other mixed-bloods we've heard about," another one said. "Quite lovely too, and the daughter of Dain. Can't beat that pedigree."

"I heard that Queen Relia had adopted her into the Longbeard clan,"

"No!"

"Well, that seals it. If the queen saw fit to offer such a thing, who are we to complain?" and with a collective shrug, they returned to their plates and ale.

The mood of the room was cordial and even comfortable. Fili and Kili were laughing and teasing maidens fair while Dain tossed back pint after pint until his nose turned pink. Time and again, he leaned against the table to watch Frain and Bemma and Relianna with Thorin. He was sure Mahal had finally taken pity on him, and the joy on his children's faces almost eclipsed his regrets. The barren emptiness of his life had been reseeded, and he smacked his lips at the thought of his grandchildren to come.

Pushing his chair back to make room for his stomach, Balin also watched with satisfaction. Thorin was happy, Relianna and Frain were safe, and Dain was thrilled. This was much more than he had hoped for at the beginning of Thorin's month of torment.

"So, brother, you have to admit everything turned out well."

"I stand by what I said before, brother," Dwalin said while gnawing on spicy pork ribs. "Clap hands and be done. No fuss, no muss."

"And trundle her away in a wheelbarrow, aye?"

Dwalin merely shrugged and started in on the other side of his plate.

"Hopeless," Balin decreed.

"So, Naldin," Thorin said down the table, "I believe you have a request of me." The other dwarf stood and bowed at once before throwing his beloved a hopeful smile.

"I wish to be released from service to wed Lady Carba, my king," he said calmly. "I've already received her father's permission." Relianna was impressed with him, and she leaned back behind Thorin with a gleeful grin for Lady Carba who returned it with excited pats of her hands under her lips.

"I see," Thorin said, looking from one to the other. "May I ask how this came about?"

"We fell in love over a discussion of smelting operations," she piped up from behind her betrothed. "It was most engaging." Naldin bobbed his head in agreement, and the two gazed into each other's coal-black eyes. Thorin turned to Kerba with an incredulous look, but he only shrugged.

"You know how she is, Thorin."

"Indeed." Thorin cleared his throat and nodded at Naldin who broke out into a wide smile. "You have served me well, Naldin, and I send with you our best wishes and your favorite books and scrolls from the repository—on the condition that you give me your wise counsel from time to time."

Naldin reached back, took Lady Carba's hand, and squeezed it hard.

"Of course, my lord, it would be my honor."

Balin watched from down the table and chortled with a few slaps of his full belly.

"Does a heart good, brother, doesn't it?" he said for a last try.

"Eh?"

The rest ate with contentment, and Frain and Bemma were toasted and feted until their cheeks ached from smiling. Desserts came out to general acclaim and more than a few groans for not saving room. They had no sooner been served when there was a tremendous ruckus in the hall outside. The herald peeked behind the door to hear loud voices then scurried up to Thorin.

"My lord," he said with nervous glances at the door, "he was told to wait to be announced, but …."

The doors flew open and on the threshold stood the wildest and most bizarrely attired dwarf imaginable. He wore dented armor that had sharp spikes on the shoulders, elbows, and around the knees, which would have made walking difficult if he didn't stand with his thick legs apart almost in a squat. He was a beefy dwarf shaped like a square, and his boulder-like head sat between his shoulder plates. His hair was all but shaven except a thick strip running up from the nape of his neck to just above his wiry brows. One eye was white and dead with a long scar running through it, and it appeared that part of his upper lip had been hacked off. His ears were pierced with rings all along the outer rims, and two rings pierced his nostrils and another the front of his nose. His long, black mustache and beard were braided with cuffs and what looked like teeth.

"Mahal above," Frain whispered. "Who in Arda is that?" No one could answer him.

The dwarf looked over the crowd with narrowed eyes and his massive fists on his hips. Suddenly, his one good eye opened wide, and he swaggered down the stairs without a by-your-leave and headed to the main table. Thorin waved the guards to intercept him and pulled his belt-knife, but before anyone could stop him, he strode up to Dwalin, hoisted him up under his armpits like one would a cat, and head-butted him so hard that his eyes rolled back. The dwarf cocked his head.

"Goodly tone that, aye," he rasped. The sound of something coming had all heads swivel toward the open doors, and Lady Fregma appeared pushing a wheelbarrow. "I approve yourn, daughter."

"That can't be …," Lord Kerba stuttered. "That can't be …." He turned to Thorin who looked equally flabbergasted. "Lord Freggin?"

Lady Fregma wore a shapeless green dress that made her look like a huge, moss-covered tree. With her wide, snaggled-toothed smile, she pushed the wheelbarrow up to her father, and together they loaded the unconscious Dwalin whose legs flopped over the sides. Taking each foot, she tucked him in gently and then took his left cheek in her fingers and tugged it repeatedly to make a sucking, popping noise. Father and daughter listened to his cheek smack against his teeth with great concentration.

"Fine choice, aye," Lord Fregin said after a moment, and then they turned to Thorin.

"By yer leave, me lord," he said while taking Thorin's measure. "Aye, Fregma, ye be right," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper that no one had trouble hearing. "He be a handsome pup, 'tis plain, a dainty lad, aye, but too slight for the likes of ye." With a short bow, he waved toward the wagon.

"Ye said ye be waitin' fer me approval, me lord," he said to Thorin with a proud thrust of his chest, "and that I gives ye. We be off with himself now."

Lady Fregma gave a curtsy that looked more like a crouch and lifted one handle of the wheelbarrow with her father taking the other. In complete silence they trundled Dwalin out, and the creaks of the wheels faded away down the hall.

"Oh my," Lord Kerba said into the silence.

"Poor Dwalin," Frain added. "Was that a woman?" He looked from side to side seeking clarification, but no one knew quite how to answer. "Handsome pup? Dainty lad? Thorin, was he talking about you?" A beat later and snigger from Balin turned into a howl between gasping snorts. The room lost no time following his example.

"How far are you going to let them take him?" Relianna asked Thorin with wide eyes. "You have to stop them!"

"As far as the Great Hall?" Frain asked with a puckish grin.

"No!" Relianna said. "Thorin, you must do something!"

"I was thinking as far as the main gate," Fili called from down the table.

"No!"

"I think Dale would do better, don't you?" Kili asked looking around. "Just far enough to make a point."

"You're assuming he'd wake up by then," Lord Kerba said, weighing in with a straight face. "That was a pretty hard knock there. He might not regain his senses until Lake Town."

"Thorin, you can't possibly!"

Balin looked up with tears running down his face and one hand flicking a handkerchief. He tried to talk but managed only a wet gurgle and waved the others on.

"It's a hard decision, indeed," Thorin said while stroking his beard, caught between chagrin at Lord Freggin's description of him and satisfaction at Dwalin's comeuppance. "I think Thranduil should handle this."

"Thorin!"

Hee, hee, hee. I wonder what Dwalin will think when he wakes up? Please review! I worked hard on this one!