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Chapter 19: Just Breathe

"So nearly one are love and hate, the two most powerful and devastating emotions that control man, nations, life.

—Edgar Rice Burroughs

Somehow, the elves knew exactly where they were going, finding paths in the forest that were unseen to the ordinary eye. Needless to say, Gemma and the rest of the Company stumbled along. Thorin was just behind Gemma, at the back of the procession, kept under watch by the blonde elf. Kili was ahead of Gemma, and seemed to be rubbing his arm as if in pain. Gemma leaned forward and asked, "Alright there, Kili?"

"Hmm?" the dwarf said, revived from his daydreaming. "Oh, yes Gemma, I'm fine. Just bashed my arm up a bit is all." He seemed very distracted, staring off ahead of them. Gemma followed his line of sight and nearly burst out laughing when she discovered what, or rather who, was on the receiving end.

"I knew you had a thing for elves, but I never thought it was for the female kind," Gemma teased, referring to Kili's rather embarrassing mishap in Rivendell, which seemed like it happened so long ago. Kili shot her a glare, but the twinkle of mirth in his eye ruined the effect. He couldn't glare like Thorin could. "Hey, we're on a quest to kill a dragon. If you can pick up a lady on the way, well, that's a nice bonus," Gemma winked. "Just remember that we're technically her captives. So don't get too friendly. Or do; maybe you can charm your way out." They chuckled.

Kili began to say something, but then the blonde elf yelled, "No talking, dwarves." He said dwarves in the same way someone might say "dung beetles" or "worms" or "red dye number four"; with absolute disgust.

Gemma moved back from Kili, but said threw her shoulder, "Do I look like a dwarf?"

She had to admit that the blonde elf was rather good looking, but more in a pretty way than a handsome way. Not that it mattered, because he was seriously getting on her nerves. In fact, the whole elf versus dwarf thing was getting on her nerves.

They walked a little farther in silence before Thorin suddenly tripped and stumbled into her. "Have you seen Bilbo?" he whispered quickly in her ear before backing away smoothly. It was a smart move, faking the trip to talk to her; Gemma was impressed. Without turning around, she gave a slight shake of her head. She had not seen the hobbit since he freed her from the spiders. Perhaps he had slipped away and could come to their rescue. She hoped so. Good old Bilbo.

The procession crossed a narrow bridge, and Gemma was thankful that the delirious effects of the forest had worn off, otherwise she was sure that she would have fallen. They entered through a tall gate which was promptly shut behind them, sealing them all inside the kingdom of the woodland elves.

The place was huge and made entirely of trees and natural wood, as if the whole palace had just sprouted from the earth. The Company was led over several other bridges, over which they could see the kingdom stretching down several levels.

They were led towards a spiral staircase, but were stopped by another elf at the top. The elf spoke softly to the blonde elf and the ginger one, so softly that Gemma couldn't hear a word, but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was only furthered when the three elves all turn to look at Thorin. "The king will meet with you," the newest elf said to Thorin, and turned to lead the dwarf king away from the others. Thorin locked his jaw and scowled at this, and the horrible feeling in Gemma's gut boiled over.

Gemma knew who the king of Mirkwood was and how he had abandoned and betrayed Thorin's people. She knew that Thorin's resentment and detestation of the king knew no bounds. She also knew that their only chance to get out of this place would be to strike up a deal with this King, and she knew that Thorin would never do that. But if he ever wanted to reach the Mountain in time, he would have to swallow his pride and do it.

"Thorin, listen to me," she said to him, locking eyes to let him know how deadly serious she was. The blonde elf tried to pull Thorin away, but Gemma sent him a scathing glare. "Back off Blondie. Thorin, please, do what he asks. Make a deal. Get us out of here."

Thorin looked at her is half disbelief. "Gemma, this king, Thranduil..." he began, but she cut him off as the elves began to drag them apart.

"I know what he did. You told me. But Thorin, if you want to reach the Mountain, listen to me. You've got to suck it up and make a deal. Promise me." She had to raise her voice as they were dragged further away from each other, despite their struggle. She saw Thorin, look back at her, stubbornness still evident in his eyes. Now Gemma was screaming at him, because, goddamnit, she needed to make him see sense. "You make a deal, you hear me? You get us out of here! Promise me!" Thorin looked away, and then he was out of sight as she was pulled down the stairs to the prison cells below.

That feeling of dread was still there, mixing with a tingling of fear at the thought of being a prisoner again. Damn Thorin, the stubborn, vengeful bastard. He hadn't promised.

Gemma was thrown into the cell at the end of the row. The elf that locked her up whispered something nasty under his breath as he did so. She wasn't sure what he said, but could tell it was nasty just by his tone. This was probably because she had elbowed him in the face during the struggle upstairs. Gemma wasn't entirely sure that it had been an accident either; try as she might to remain unprejudiced, elves were beginning to get on her nerves. It seemed like everything was getting on her nerves at the moment, though that was probably due to lack of sleep. How long had they been in that forest anyway? She had thought only a day or two, but now she felt like it must have been longer.

With nothing else to do, Gemma decided to attempt to get some rest. The elves had confiscated her bag so all she had left was her jacket. Thankfully, it was warm in the brig so Gemma took her jacket off and rolled it into a makeshift pillow. She quickly fell into a deep sleep, curled in the corner in her tank top and jeans, overcome by exhaustion and stress.

Gemma was woken less than an hour later when the door of her cell was opened. From her place tucked against the wall, she watched as Thorin was pushed inside her cell by some rather angry looking elves. He was inside her cell. Clearly the elves had been too busy or careless to look inside and see her in there, although that didn't seem likely, after all they were elves. Perhaps they had put them together on purpose; if they wanted her to torture Thorin, Gemma was happy to oblige.

"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin called to Thorin from a few cells over.

"He did," Thorin replied with a smirk. "I told him he could go ishkh khakfe andu null. Him and all his kin!"

"Well," Balin sighed. "That's that, then. The deal was our only hope."

She waited for the elves to go before she softly said, "I suppose you did not follow my advice?"

Thorin jumped in surprise, as if he had not seen her in the cell either. Honestly, it wasn't like she was invisible or anything, just napping. "I could not negotiate with that vile elf," he rumbled.

"And now you will never get to the Lonely Mountain in time. I would think a blow to your goddamn pride would be a necessary sacrifice in order to reclaim your homeland and birthright, but apparently not," Gemma said a bit louder, getting to her feet and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"He left my people to be slain by the dragon! He turned us away when we were homeless wanderers, starving! And now he had the gall, the audacity, to ask for payment for our release, jewels from the treasure of my people! I refuse to ever owe that honourless coward anything, even if it should mean we will spend the rest of our days locked away! I will not stoop so low." Thorin voice held a deadly seriousness to it, as if challenging her to dare to question him. Gemma wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and her temper was just as bad as Thorin's. She stepped forward, using her superior height to tower over him.

"And that is why you are unfit to be a king!"

"You dare…"

"Damn right I do. I said it. You are a brave fighter, a smart leader, but you are no ruler. If you were, you would be able to make the tough decisions to benefit your people, regardless of pride or self. You would be willing to make a deal with the devil if it were necessary."

"Do not speak to me of sacrifice! I spent years working as a lowly blacksmith among Men, all for the betterment of my people."

"And all for nothing if you do not reclaim your home. Are you so greedy that you would not part with a few jewels from the sea of treasure that you say Erebor holds? Don't be so damn stubborn; just agree to bring Thranduil whatever he wants!"

"Stubborn! You should not speak to me of stubbornness! Who are you to question me? I am the King of Durin's Folk and the leader of this Company! You are just some lost little woman, who would well be dead by now if we had not allowed you to come with us." The two of them were nearly nose to nose now, or would have been if Gemma didn't rise a good eight inches above him. Though, for a dwarf, Thorin was quite tall.

"Oh I'm sorry, little?! You're a goddamn dwarf, and you're calling me little? And, by my count, I've saved your ass quite a few times as well, so don't give me any of that crap about being grateful, you sonuvabitch!" She prodded his chest with her finger, livid at this insufferable man (dwarf, her mind corrected, and that just made her angrier).

"I will not stand for this! You will not address me this way! I did not ask for your help. I did not need it."

"Have you forgotten that you did, in fact, ask me to join you, back in Rivendell?" Gemma fired back. "I'll talk to you however I please. You're not my king!" She'd said it to him once before, back in Mirkwood by the river, but this time her words held a biting malice.

"And you are no longer welcome here!" Thorin shouted.

"I've got news for you, asshole. We're in a motherfucking prison. I'm not going anywhere!" Gemma was breathing hard. She tried to calm down, but was unsuccessful. Anger pumped through her veins, red hot. "Actually no, you know, I could," she said lowly. "I could've left back at Beorn's. I could have been in my cozy little apartment, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother and eating potato chips in my pyjamas, but no, I stayed." She pulled the moonstone out from where she had tucked it beneath her shirt to hide it from the elves. The stone glowed entirely blue, ready to be used. "All I'd have to do is hold this to my heart, squeeze it tight, and ask it to take me home, like Dorothy from the goddamn Wizard of Oz. But I haven't. Do you know why?" Gemma leaned down, got right in Thorin face, and looked him straight in the eye, the smarmy fuck. "I stayed for you, dammit! I don't abandon my friends. I stayed for you!" She yelled.

Gemma didn't know who made the first move, but suddenly their lips were crashing together. The kiss was somewhat sloppy and rushed, their noses and foreheads bumping somewhat painfully, but it was full of passion. And good God was he a good kisser! His beard tickled her cheeks, rough but somehow stimulating. His lips, too, were rough and tasted like tobacco and sweat, but she didn't care. Couldn't care. Couldn't stop.

Gemma's eyes had snapped shut of their own accord, but they flew open when her back connected with a cell wall. They broke apart and Gemma gasped for air, blood rushing in her ears. Thorin braced his hands against the wall on either side of her and kissed her cheek, then moved to the underside of her face, then to her neck, and then followed along a sizable burn scar that snaked out from the beneath the strap of her tank top. Her skin tingled where he trailed his kisses, and she couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped her lips. Pretty soon she couldn't stand it any longer, and so Gemma wove her hands through Thorin's coarse hair and forced him back up to her lips. She tilted her head and pushed his lips open, slipping her tongue in teasingly. His arms snaked around her to rest on her back while hers roamed everywhere, frantically exploring his broad shoulders and toned arms and chest.

Their height difference, of course, was a problem. Gemma's knees were bent and kept knocking against his legs, so the small part of her brain that could still function thought screw it, and she pulled him down to sit on the floor, lips never parting. She pulled him closer and began to pull at his fur coat. After all, she was far less dressed than he was, and one of her tank straps had already somehow slipped off her shoulder. Thorin growled, a deep rumbling in his throat, as his jacket was removed, and Gemma tightened her grip on him, pulling him closer, though that seemed impossible.

They were shocked apart when an elven guard who was walking by rattled the bars of their cell door. "Fuck off America's next top model!" she yelled after the guard without taking her eyes off Thorin, who smirked at her quip. They remained close, and Gemma realized that she was basically sitting in Thorin's lap. She wondered why the guard hadn't barged in when he realized there were two people in the cell, but she was glad he hadn't. She just wanted to stay like this, eyes glued to Thorin's ice blues, gulping in air as though she had just been drowning.

You're not my king!" Thorin was absolutely furious with this woman. The nerve of her!

"And you are no longer welcome here!" he shouted back, not caring that the rest of the Company could probably hear him from their cells, as well as whatever elves were close by.

"I've got news for you, asshole. We're in a motherfucking prison. I'm not going anywhere! Actually no, you know, I could. I could've left back at Beorn's. I could have been in my cozy little apartment, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother and eating potato chips in my pyjamas, but no, I stayed." Thorin hated when she said things he didn't understand. Just another thing to add to the list of what he hated about her. Gemma pulled the moonstone out from beneath her shirt, the entire stone glowing blue. "All I'd have to do is hold this to my heart, squeeze it tight, and ask it to take me home, like Dorothy from the goddamn Wizard of Oz." He really did hate it. The woman made him lose his mind. "But I haven't. Do you know why?" Thorin could feel her breath on his face, she was so close. He could probably count the dark eyelashes that framed those deep green eyes. "I stayed for you, dammit! I don't abandon my friends. I stayed for you!" She yelled.

Thorin didn't know who made the first move, but without warning their lips joined, moving across each other at a desperate pace. Mahal, she was beautiful. Incredible. Unearthly. Her lips tasted like mint, and were still fairly smooth despite the lack of water they'd all suffered in the forest. She smelt like forest, cinnamon, and Gemma. Their bodies bumped and got in the way, but their lips moved like seasoned dance partners.

He backed her up until she hit the wall, pulling away with a gasp, cheeks burning a brilliant pink. Determined to continue, Thorin traced along her face, neck and shoulder with his lips, pushing aside the strap of her tiny shirt. He soon found an angry red burn scar that curled up from under her shirt and travelled along her exposed shoulder in a ragged line. Thorin's mind bounced back to when she had first told him about her scars, and then when he had glimpsed them. He hated that she thought they were something that ruined her. He kissed along the scar, wanting to show her how beautiful she was, scars and all. Gemma blew out a moan, and the sound made Thorin's gut tighten painfully.

Soon she was pulling his lips back to hers, and Thorin was happy to oblige. Her hand left trails of warmth as they moved all over him, and Thorin didn't ever want her to stop, even though they were both clumsy in their movements. Gemma took control as she pulled them both to the floor, and began to tug at his coat. He had never known a woman quite like her, so headstrong and passionate. If anyone had asked him mere minutes ago, he would have said that he found it infuriating and disrespectful, but a large part of him, which had previously been repressed and ignored, could no longer deny that he found it extremely attractive. Tragically ironic though it was, the only word Thorin could think of that accurately described Gemma LaRoche was fiery. She burned with passion and life, when she spoke, when they argued, when she fought, and most definitely when she kissed.

If he had not been trapped in a cell and unwilling to detach himself from the beautiful woman currently wrapped around him, Thorin would have strangled the guard who rattled their bars. "Fuck off America's next top model!" Gemma yelled after the elf, and Thorin chuckled even though he didn't quite understand the insult.

They pulled apart but he did not let go, and she didn't move away. "So," he said softly, leaning back and turning her so that she rested against his chest, "does this do anything to change your previous travel plans?"

Gemma laughed, a throaty sound that made Thorin's cheeks warm. "It might," she smirked. "I think I'll stick around a little longer. At least until I get tired of prison food." Thorin laughed too, and Gemma nestled into him. "This is pretty funny, eh? Who would've thought we'd end up here, after all the ups and downs we've had over the past… what, month and a half? How long we're we wandering in that forest anyway? Well, it doesn't matter." She looked up at him and smiled slightly, her lips tugging up on one side. "I know this'll sound like some cliché from a sappy romance movie, not that you have those here so whatever, but I think… I've wanted to do that for a long time. I just didn't know it until now."

Thorin thought about it, and then nodded in agreement. "I believe I have as well. You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful. Not in the way of the dwarves, but in an unearthly, strange way, which is understandable now. The way you moved, the way you were dressed, your hair," he said, running his fingers through it, "I was enchanted."

"Well, don't stop, I'm enjoying this," Gemma joked, wiggling her eyebrows. "What else?"

"Well, then you took me captive and I learned how absolutely mad you truly are," Thorin teased right back. Gemma punched his arm and laughed.

They talked some more, and exchanged little kissed here and there, and Thorin wondered how he could ever have not realized how much he'd wanted her. Now that he knew, he wanted her even more; wanted to know her, to see every part of her, to be with her. One thought troubled him, though. "How long will you stay?" he asked, and he made sure to let her know that it was a serious question.

"I…don't know. I miss home, I'm sure you understand. But… I don't know what's waiting for me back home, or what's left for me. I can't… I won't make any promises that I can't keep, but I intend to see this quest through to the end at least. I'm not going anywhere for a while." She leaned up and pecked his cheek.

"That is… very good to hear. I cannot ask you to stay, for it would be a cruel request when I myself know the misery of being cast unwillingly from one's home, but I had hoped we could see where this new path might lead us. I apologize for saying you had no place amongst us. Twice now I have said this, and to neither person did it apply."

Gemma hummed and closed her eyes, "I love to listen to you speak, especially like that. All deep and eloquent. I'm sorry too. When we reclaim your kingdom, you will be a wonderful king."

"I fear you were right in some way, though," Thorin said, leaning his head on top of hers. "If I had made the deal, we would still be travelling to Erebor. Pride and greed indeed. I told you of my grandfather's sickness; a sickness of the mind which they called the gold sickness. His pride and greed overwhelmed him, controlled him, and ultimately led to Smaug's attack. If he had not hoarded so much treasure, the dragon might never have come." Thorin held her tighter to him. "Some believe that the sickness runs in the family, that I am destined to follow his path. It… makes me very afraid," he whispered.

Gemma twisted and embraced Thorin, locking him in a brief but intoxicating kiss. "All the more reason for me to stay. I'll be there to keep you in line." They kissed again, and then sat in silence, together.

A while later, Thorin and Gemma were surprised when a small voice hissed their names. "Thorin. Gemma."

"Bilbo?" Gemma whispered back, and the hobbit in question popped his head around the corner. He blushed when he saw them, still nestled together against the wall.

"Er… not interrupting am I?"

"No," Gemma said.

"Yes," Thorin said at the same time. He was happy to see the hobbit, but Bilbo was interrupting. Gemma raised her eyebrow at him, and then turned back to Bilbo.

"How did you get away? Nevermind, you can tell us later, for now just worry about getting us out of here!"

"I'm working on it," Bilbo replied with a grin. "I've got a plan, or… most of one. Just hang in there, I'll have you out soon."

"You're amazing Bilbo, thank God," Gemma said, hugging the hobbit through the bars. Thorin was somewhat inclined to join in. Thank Mahal. That's twice the hobbit had saved them in one day.

Footsteps were heard approaching, and with a quick hiss of "I'll be back soon," Bilbo was gone.

The footsteps turned into elves, three guards coming to stop in front of their cell. "You," one said. "Woman. The king has requested an audience."

"Really? He's requested one, has he? I doubt that. If he'd requested an audience I would be allowed to refuse, but I assume that is out of the question. If he'd requested an audience he wouldn't have sent all three fucking Charlie's Angels after me, would he?" Thorin wanted to laugh as Gemma called the elves on their bullshit. Yes, she was a catch.

The elves entered the cell and grabbed her roughly, pulling her to her feet despite both their protests. Just like before, Gemma struggled against them, pulling Thorin close to whisper in his ear, "If Bilbo returns before I'm back, promise you'll leave without me." She kissed his cheek and then the guards pulled her back and out of the cell. She struggled, and yelled to him, "You'd better promise this time, Thorin! I mean it!"

Thorin didn't want to promise anything. Leave her behind, when they had just discovered their feelings for each other? He felt sick at the thought, and he knew then that what he felt for her was greater than want. But he could not deny her this, because despite his feelings, if the time came it would be the right move. She knew it, and she wanted him to take it, and suddenly he couldn't say no to her. "You have my word Gemma."

She nodded to him, and then she was pulled out of his sight, off to meet with the honourless King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. The thought of Gemma talking to, or even being in the same room with, that elf worried him to no end. Thorin rushed to the cell door, trying to glimpse her retreating form, but he could not.

AN:

Sooo… a lot of stuff just happened and I'm anxious to hear what you guys thought. Was it too cliché? Did it make you laugh? Did you shout "Finally!" when they kissed?

This is probably one of my favourite chapters because it combines all the best things in this story: Gemma and Thorin fighting, Gemma's nicknames, romance between Gemma and Thorin, and also swearing. Actually, there was a LOT more swearing in this chapter, but I ended up cutting some out. I just watched this absolutely hilarious British comedy called In The Loop, and the swearing sort of carried over into my writing. But so did the inspiration for insulting nicknames, so I hope you enjoyed those.

Thank you to everyone reviewed last time, and a special thanks to those who left suggestions for my camp counsellor interview/ tryout thing. I think it went well, but there were tons of other applicants, so I'm just keeping my fingers crossed!

I'm on March Break now, so I'm going to try to write a bunch of chapters, and maybe post some early. Also, this chapter's title is from the Pearl Jam song.

Please review, I'm especially excited to hear what you thought of this chapter!