"She refuses to see anyone...why would you tell her such a lie?" Arvind was angry. But it was not an aggressive or uncontrolled anger. It was careful and weighed and clinical, which worried Thorin more. "She pines for both her father and I can imagine she expects her mother is also dead -"

"She mourns, but I promise you that I ensure she eats something for each meal..."

"The guards say she barely leaves bed, and that she does not dress..."

"I encourage her to rest, but I bathe her each day myself and tend to her hair also," Thorin tried to reassure the young statesman. The truth was that she had indeed fallen into a deep melancholy and barely ate, and could not dress herself. Consequently he had taken it upon himself to feed her lunch and dinner himself. After all it was his lie that had caused all this. And in a similar fashion he would take her to his bath every evening, and washed her hair twice a week. He quickly cleared his throat as the mere thought of her naked body in his arms, glistening and wet, began to make him hard. "You know she attempted to smuggle herself out - it was both foolish and dangerous. I simply had to say it was so. I have told her that you knew nothing about this. That I intercepted a letter. Then she can blame me - or be angry at me. It is better than for her to be disappointed in you."

Arvind fell silent at his last comment. It was strangely thoughtful, even though the Dwarf King had been mostly cruel in his treatment towards her.

"Then I hope you can convince her to see me by the end of the week. She has never declined to see me before," Arvind thought of the many times when she had got herself into trouble in her father's court or amongst the many important women of the palace on the whole - she had been punished by not being allowed to leave her room. But she had never declined a visit from him even then! "I am her brother, and the reason I accepted to lead this army here in part was in order to ensure my sister was looked after. You once gave me your word that you would not dishonour the House of Durin by neglecting your wife - I shall hold you to that."

The young prince of Rhun was tall, and looked very much the regal statesman in his silk and velvet robes and jacket. And very much in the same manner as his carefully constructed appearance, came his words. They were not overtly a threat, but there was a clear warning all the same.

Arvind bowed his head to take leave, but Thorin stood up from behind his desk where he sat. The only give away of the kings anger was the slight tension he held in his jaw.

"I shall indeed be sure to request that my wife makes time to see you tomorrow. These are after all MY Halls of Stone," Thorin tilted his head in return walking behind the tall prince from Rhun to the door. "But perhaps you might also take that chance to remind your sister of her duties to her new kingdom and husband, and the dangers of running away - particularly to any unborn child of mine that she may be carrying..."

Thorin's words seemed to halt Arvind. Thoughtfully, he turned to look at the dwarf. From where he stood, with a closer view he could see the dwarf looked older now, his brow furrowed with worries of running a kingdom.

"Do you know why we came to be known as the 'House of Silk', my Lord?" Arvind paused to explain, his warm brown eyes carefully assessing the dwarf King. "Because we look soft, and concerned only of the lavish things - in a similar way to how we welcome others amongst us. But little do they know, as they accept our favour, that silk is stronger than steel. And given enough of it, much like spider silk, you will find yourself wrapped and hung to your demise. For you see, stone may be hard, but, silk can subdue even the hardest stone..."

And with that he bowed his head once more to Thorin, leaving him deep in thought.

...

He sighed as he added more logs to the fireplace, before glancing back at her again. She remained huddled in her blankets shivering, but otherwise silent, in the way she always seemed to be these days.

He didn't like her so subdued, but had rather enjoyed the fire that lay beneath the hot embers of her temperament. All it usually took was a stir here or there and she would flame up. He had enjoyed taking advantage of that particularly in his bed. But now she seemed half empty and half broken.

"Why do you not wish to see your brother?" He asked gently, as he walked over to her. These days all she did was sleep, and she would also (as her guards had revealed to him) cry, during the day.

"What is there to say? He should have been honest with me..." She replied.

He normally enjoyed strutting about his large room naked, after they had bathed together. It was freeing to be rid of the chain-vest he often wore. But also he knew that she would often watch him, with clear interest and curiosity when she thought he was not watching. And of course he was sure that she considered himself a fine specimen of a dwarf, even if he was indeed a little older.

"You cannot remain here and mourn for the rest of your days. What of the babe that lays within you? It is now six weeks since you last bled..."

"I may bleed yet. There is no certainty and your sister made me urinate on her magic wheat again yesterday, with no effect."

He turned and hid a chuckle as he imagined her displeasure at having to empty her royal bladder in accordance with his bossy sibling.

Pulling on a soft pair of trousers, he turned to watch her, but much to his disappointment she had not even snuck a glance at him. Instead she sat there very lost, staring at the blankets, deep in thought. Suddenly it was hard not to ignore the guilt within him that had begun as the smallest seedling and was now steadily growing into a monstrous plant.

HE had broken her - with his half truths. And he wasn't sure he could take it back!

"Shobha..." He began uncertain of what to say anymore, or whether he even should say it! "About your father..."

He paused feeling nervous. He NEVER felt nervous!

So he moved consciously to the drawers he had cleared for her things and took out a shift and a nightgown.

"I am sorry you could not return to visit..." He began quietly, handing her the soft items while trying to hold his tongue about how he would not have required the use of such harsh tactics had she too not attempted to smuggle her way out with such reckless abandon!

Suddenly those big brown eyes of hers looked up at him, blinking in surprise. It made him halt his train of thought and his composure.

"But I think you would feel better if you spoke with your brother." He concluded, no longer feeling capable of revealing his betrayal to her.

"What is there to speak of...?" Her initial comment was apathetic, until she glanced up at him again as he looked away again in a hurry. She was sure something about his demeanour was not quite right...in fact the more she watched him, the more she convinced herself that he appeared...nervous?

"He worries about you..." He winced as the words left his mouth, since she sat bolt upright clearly suspicious now. He sounded foolish and in no way himself.

"What IS there to talk about my Lord?" She slid off the bed, now allowing her blanket to fall at her feet briefly while she pulled on her shift and then her nightgown, before his wondering eyes could roam her nude form as he truly desired.

He turned away, pretending to arrange their tea cups, but his heart beat rapidly now.

"Thorin?"

He could feel her standing close behind him now. And he didn't want to talk or to admit his lies. He simply wanted to lay with her. To hold her.

"Please?" Her plea had an edge to it. It was an ache that he remembered all too well when his own father disappeared. "What is it that you are not telling me?"

He turned away from her, but she was too quick and light-footed, coming to stand before him with those big brown eyes. She kept enough distance so as not to clutch at him, but she was still close enough.

He stood silent for what felt like an eon before finally answering.

"You must understand that all this is to protect you." He looked pained as he spoke the words, only to take an evasive step away from her and towards the bed.

But she too continued to move each time, mirroring his changes to stand in his way, until he finally placed his hands firmly on her hips.

"What does that mean? ...Imprisoning me? ...Or is my father alive?" She finally clutched at his chest in desperation. His skin was warm, covered in scars and tattoos, with a run of soft dark hair that trailed into a narrow v that dipped below the waistband of his trousers. His form usually mesmerized her. But not today. "Please, I beg or you to tell me what you know - for the sanity of my own head. Or neither drowning me, nor your army will be able to stop me from running away!"

Now he felt his own anger stirring, as the guilt and pity he had for her slowly washed away. He did not respond well to threats. He was, after all the King under the Mountain, and he feared nothing and no-one. Particularly not this slip of a woman.

He stepped forward now, she was tall, but he was much broader.

"Your father was on his deathbed some months ago. It was his decision not to tell you the truth, for your step-brother who took the throne has little intent on honouring my agreement with your father. If you should return, he was to hold your hostage for ransom of gold, or better yet to sell you for service of another masters bed." His words were cold and harsh, with little room to misinterpret. "And you must know by now, that there are those who would pay handsomely indeed to have you as a concubine. And the moment it becomes apparent that you carry my heir, the price you would fetch in service would rise still."

He stared into her big brown eyes carefully, to make sure his words registered with her.

"Your brother barely escaped himself. And should you resist, I am sure, a worse fate would lay before you." He held her firmly by her hips. "And your foolishness actions would cause a pain in the backside for us all!"

The nightdress she wore was one of her usual, but he had never seen her in one before. After all, as soon as he found her in his bed, he had rid her of any clothing she wore in mere moments.

The soft white material was loose and had many decorative ruffles, but it was also somewhat thin. And the material gave teasing glimpses of her body in places. Her nipples pressed through the material, and even her breasts looked fuller now.

"So you lied to me?!" Her words dripped with betrayal and pain. It would have hurt him in the past, but today he simply felt she was behaving like a brat. After all he had done to make her life in Erebor as comfortable as possible, she had nothing to complain of as far as he was concerned.

"Yes. Particularly when I realised you were simple-minded enough to attempt running away!" Between the anger she was causing him and that damned nightgown she wore, he now sported a painful erection to add insult to injury. Ever since she had fallen into mourning, he had not had her. And now all he wanted was to fuck her in that nightgown. "You would do well to remember that if you do not start acting as my consort, I shall have to treat you as my whore."

"You treat me badly anyway. So much for your promises of never neglecting your wife." She spoke stepping away from him, only to have him grasp her wrist and pull her into him.

"I have been bathing you, feeding you and comforting you for these weeks while you mourned, have I not?" He pulled her tighter against him.

"Out of guilt." She corrected watching his cold blue eyes darken. "For the pain you caused."

"It is not far from the truth. Your father was not long from death. And your mother was left with several of Arvinds men to smuggle her out of the city. Whether they manage this remains to be seen." His words were cold although his hands pulled her tighter in an attempt to comfort her. "Your brother, the new Maharajah has demanded the remaining payment for your hand in marriage and the army. And he has demanded Arvind must return -"

"But you will not send him away, will you?" Her voice was shaky as she feared the loss of her only family.

"No. He is free to decide his own fate."

"He is surely not considering return?"

Thorin knew Arvind had no intention of returning, but perhaps his impulsive bride could be coaxed to speak with her brother using this.

"Speak with your brother." He urged again gently.

She nodded slowly.

"Tomorrow." He commanded softly, unable to help himself. To him she was a nothing but a lost little girl, with lofty ideas and a soft heart, who should never have been married off so rashly, although he was secretly glad her father had agreed to her marriage.

Again she nodded slowly, there was a depth to the pain in her eyes he had not seen before.

"Come now, " he scooped her up into his arms feeling yet another wave of guilt and worry over her mourning. Apart from when he had insisted upon her eating, while he sat with her, he was certain she had not eaten. And she certain felt lighter for it in his arms. "Let us retire now. And I think tomorrow, perhaps you might also visit Rajah - your beast misses you...he only accepts food from me as he is hungry..."

He set her down in his bed and clambered in himself beside her, while he was desperate to have her, he had decided he would have to accept that she needed more time for now. And while she turned away from him, pulling the warm blankets over her, tiniest smile appeared on her lips at the thought of him taking the time to feed her leopard.

The next day, she had eventually forced herself to dress, after being summoned by the king. She still had no desire to see anyone yet. But she remembered Thorins warning about her brother, and imagined she was being summoned to meet him.

Stepping out into the corridor felt alien after so many days of having felt a terrible numbness at the thought of having lost both her parents suddenly. She still didn't know what to think.

Her mind wondering in and out of its own thoughts she wondered the corridors before finally she arrived at the door leading up to the high ramparts, where she knew Thorin often stood, brooding and watching the valley below.

Slowly she made her way up the dark stairway to emerge into the daylight.

She normally craved daylight, like she craved air. But today, she felt nothing. Just emptiness.

His broad frame stood watching out over Dale as she looked around the balcony, which offered no signs of her brothers presence.

"You took your time, my lady..." He sounded irate at first, but seemed to soften as he turned to face her. "Are you well, my lady?"

She looked tired and pale, although she was dressed in one of her deep blue velvet dresses.

"You called for me, my Lord?" Her reply was quiet, as she was clearly still a little lost in her own thoughts.

"You have still not spoken with your brother..." He moved closer to her, but his face now much softer, for he truly felt pity for her.

"No, my Lord, but I shall find him right away after speaking with you -"

He had planned to inform her that he had also summoned Arvind here to meet her, but the sound of footfall up the steps interrupted them both.

The footsteps along the stone stairwell were accompanied by the familiar clanking of armour, promoting Thorin to move closer to the emerging doorway, coming to stand in front of her even.

The guard emerging onto the large stone balcony however, was not one from Erebor, but rather a guard from Dale. He seemed to carry a parchment.

Expecting it to be a message of some sort, Thorin stepped closer, but the guard halted.

At first he seemed to pause in order to catch his breath, but then hesitated.

"You bear a message from Dale then?" Thorin snapped holding his hand out and moving closer still.

She watched the guard closely as he nodded quietly, first glancing nervously at Thorin and then over to her.

It was strange to her, having not seen anyone for the last few weeks since she fell into despair. And the quiet of his replies meant that she could now hear the sounds of the people and dwarves down below as they bustled about.

She glanced over the ramparts briefly, before turning back to her husband who was now reading the letter when she noticed the nervousness of the guard.

Then slowly as if from a strange awakening her thoughts drifted back to her own kingdom. It was rare to allow guards of any variety other than the kings own within such close quarters, such that she could only imagine this was urgent.

She watched the guard again as he moved his hand onto his belt again nervously.

And then without warning, the man lunged forward, a large blade flashing in the morning sun.

She felt helpless in her own reaction, seemingly incapable of controlling her own self, as his own reaction was delayed by his attention to the letter.

"Thorin!" She gasped pushing him.

The large knife sliced through Thorins arm as she pushed him away, everything moving at an oddly slow pace. But the blade became lodged in the palm of her own hand, the guard still holding on to the handle.

The man appeared genuinely distressed at the turn of events, with no clear intention to harm her apparently.

Her own heart beat wildly, and despite the initial pain, her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the large dagger that now emerged from the back of her hand.

And to her utter shock she barely felt the pain.

"Let go!" The man yelled at her still holding the dagger. But his struggle only pushed the blade through further.

"Argh! You let go!" She cried watching the blade emerge further. And then instinctively she attempted to push him away as he looked on at the unexpected turn of events.

Their tussle ongoing, she seemed to lunge at him in order to get away only to land against him awkwardly, her hand nudging into the only weak spot of his armour at his neck where the leather of his tunic parted above his armour.

His pale grey eyes widened at the sudden pain, and he opened his mouth to scream, but no words came out.

Instead there was a splutter from his throat and a gurgle, as blood began to spurt out.

The bloodied knife now dislodged from her own hand and fell to the floor, as she stepped back in horror.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, and familiar blue eyes came into view as Thorin stood in front of her now. He seemed to speak several times before she finally heard what he said.

"Let me see your hand." He barked at her, grabbing her hand to inspect her properly, before pulling out his handkerchief and wrapping it around her bloody palm. "Here. Press hard."

He applied firm pressure, making her wince as a sharp bolt of pain shot through her palm.

"I...didn't mean to..." She stuttered seeing the man as he lay gurgling on the floor clutching at his neck.

Then Thorin picked up the dagger quickly and immediately knelt over him pressing the blade firmly into his chest. The dagger was clearly sharp as it easily slid through his armour and the man finally lay there limp, blood pooling around him in a large puddle.

"Why?! Perhaps Oin might have saved him?!"

She cried out in shock.

"It is the kindest thing to do. Had he survived, he would have suffered losing so much blood." Thorin stood back in front of her pressing on her wound again.

"But why would he do this?! I don't understand..." She looked down at the man where he lay, his eyes still open and staring up at the sky now.

"Look at me now." Thorin barked at her again. "Do not worry for him now. Your hand is hurt and you are losing blood. We need to get you to the infirmary fast."

He seemed to pause briefly as another set of footsteps sounded up the stairwell. Quick to turn he stood broadly in front of her unsheathing his sword, when Arvind arrived.

"Some guards dressed as men from Dale have entered Erebor. I hear they had succeeded in injuring the guards at the gate. Thorin we must act fast, the school rooms remain poorly guarded..." And then Arvind himself paused noticing the man on the floor and cuts on Thorin and her own hand. "Shobha?"

"This man attacked me after handing me a so called message from Dale. It even bears the seal...or at least a perfect likeness, but it matters not. Your sister is hurt and we must get her to Oin fast." Thorin quickly informed Arvind, who had walked over to Shobha now.

She stood there looking at the man now, her face and dress covered in blood.

"Where else are you hurt, Shobha?" He gently touched her cheek to gain her attention, but she seemed to only look up at Arvind for a moment before shaking her head.

"Only her hand. Much of the blood covering her does not belong to her."

"You are hurt also. I can escort you both to Oin-"

"I will take her. You must check on the school." Thorin took her uninjured hand and began to lead her down the stairs as Arvind followed.

It had all happened fast, Oin had picked up his healing supplies and followed them back to his room where he had treat her instead.

And after stitching her hand carefully and doing a quicker job on Thorin he had left.

"Come now, get out of your clothes." Thorin had begun to draw a bath and returned to her where she still sat on a chair. "We will need to clean you without getting your hand wet."

He stood in front of her waiting for a moment, before gently grasping her chin and lifting her eyes up to meet his.

"He would have killed you too, had he succeeded." His words were neither soothing nor harsh. It was simply the truth. "So do not feel pity for him."

She looked up at him, but still had nothing to say.

"It is not easy to take a life is it?" He admitted picking up her hands in his gently. "With your own hands...whether in battle or to save your loved ones..."

She watched him for a moment still a little lost, before spotting the bleeding from his arm.

"You are hurt..." She reached out to inspect his jacket, only to have him pull away.

"We will need to have your clothes laundered immediately. No one can know that you or I were attacked." He pulled her to stand in front of him, and held her face in his hands so that he was sure of her looking at him. "If anyone even imagined we were so vulnerable to attack, that would lead to repeated attempts on our lives. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her big brown eyes fixed on his cold blue orbs. But this time something about him had changed.

A slight guilt had crept into his heart. He had been born into this world. He was always anointed to be King under the Mountain one day. And so he had expected such attacks from as young as he could recall.

She was not so. Although she had grown up in her father's royal court, her place was considered of little importance to have incurred such attempts upon her life. And so she had grown up in relative freedom.

He was gentler now, as he undid the numerous ties and laces on her dress, before it eventually slid down her body, to pool at her feet.

She shivered, as the cool air hit her naked skin, watching his eyes drift down her body, while she stood there in only her bloomers.

He had not expected her to be without the half corset she often wore. The blood stains were smudged over her face, neck, chest and breasts, that only made her look more vulnerable as she stood there in front of him.

It made him desperate to fuck her. But he felt sorry for her. And even his steadily aching cock was not enough to convince him to cause her any more pain today.

He kicked her dress away before moving her to the bathroom, here is used several small linens to dip carefully in the bath water and wipe her clean.

She watched him carefully, as he did this with surprising gentleness. Until finally he came to wiping her breasts.

His hands were gentler still now, brushing away the blood smears that had soaked through her clothing. And the warm, damp linen left her skin prickling with goosebumps as the air felt cooler against her breasts. His hands and the linen were careful, and light in their movements, working in a circular manner over her breasts, until at last he looked up into her eyes as he finally brushed over her nipples and then carefully down to her umbilicus.

But this time before he could place the linen back in the water, she took his hand in her uninjured hand.

"You too are covered in blood..." She ran her hand over the buttons of his coat, before slipping under and pushing the heavy garment over his board shoulders. It made a scraping sound as it hit the floor heavily, in stark contrast with her clothing. "And your wound is still undressed..."

He winced as she pulled his tunic up with her uninjured hand, before yeilding to her wishes and removing it altogether.

"That is a nasty wound, Thorin..." She frowned, inspecting his arm. "Why did you not stay for Oin to look at you -"

"There was little need. It will heal." He grunted watching her with as much curiosity as he did with desire.

Carefully she inspected his wounds, apparently having lost all awareness of her own semi-nudity.

"You will need stitches for this." She frowned again. "I could call on Oin -"

"There is no need." He moved towards the top drawer of his dresser, where he pulled out a small, soft, leather roll. "Here..."

He held it out to her.

"If you can't then I will simply bandage it-"

"No. I can..." She replied quietly. It was something she had never admitted to, all this time, but she had learnt to stitch up wounds when they had to face the sandworms. So many young lives lost of injured. "Come..."

She sat him down on the edge of grand bed before looking around for her dressing gown, when he stopped her again, grabbing her wrist.

"There is no need to get dressed. We will not be interrupted." He commanded roughly, before inwardly admonishing himself. Of course he wanted her, but he would not touch her unless she wanted it. She had been mourning her father, and now she had killed a man, without ever wishing it. But what made this worse was that she had been protecting him in the process.

"Very well." Her response was quiet, as she picked up a cloth and bowl from the bathroom and returned to where he sat.

His cold blue eyes watched her every move calmly. But inside he burned. For her.

Even with one hand, she was efficient. Clearly well practised. And she cleaned the wound gently before pausing as she threaded the needle with her injured hand.

"Would you not wish for a strong drink before I...?" She trailed off moving around to find his eyes trawling up her body to meet hers.

"There is no need." His reply was quick. The pain would help remind him, that her semi-naked body was not to be touched today. He was only torturing himself by having her on display.

"Very well then." Her response was followed immediately by the sharp sting of her needle.

When Oin had stitched him up, he had always felt the thread. A long dragging sensation. And the old healers hands were always harsh and prodding. It made him wonder what he had been like when he examined his bride after their first night here in Erebor. Another sharp sting brought his thoughts back to her.

She straddled him on the bed, her brown skin was close enough for him to smell the fragrance of flowers and sandalwood that lingered. It reminded him of that warm summer night he had met her properly for the first time by that fountain in her fathers palace.

Another sharp sting made him draw a deeper breath still, inhaling her scent. He could help his eyes as they found their way to watch her small proud breasts rise and fall with each breath she took, her brown nipples peaked. It made him wonder how she could focus, with his lips so tantalisingly close enough to grasp those brown tipped peaks. But for him watching her was the perfect distraction and relief from the intermittent sharp pain.

"It's done." She suddenly announced quietly, wiping his wound with a damp cloth again. "But I will need help bandaging you..."

He grunted an acknowledgment, but was completely taken aback by how fast she had finished. It had even seemed less painful.

As she got down from the bed, to fetch the bandages, he glanced over at his arm. Her stitches were neat and the large gaping cut on his arm was closed and clean!

"Can you hold this over here please?" She gently placed a folded bandage end over the wound, and once he held it in place with his fingers, she began to wrap it around. "The Sandworm attacks were so bad at one point that even the healers in our city were unable to cope with so many of the injured. So my father opened the palace halls and courtyards to be used with canopies for those who needed stitches and dressings. But then they did not have enough healers, so my mother among others who have lived outside the palace and travelled were able to help. My mother knew to stitch wounds closed so she taught me..."

"And apparently you have learned well." He concluded as she finished bandaging his arm.

But to his surprise, when she finished, she did not move away from him. Instead, she came to settle straddling her legs either side of his lap.

He resisted the urge to press her down onto his now throbbing arousal. But she was so close.

It began to dawn on him, then that she might be just as aroused as he was.

Watching her breathing speed up, he grasped her thighs with his hands, before sliding one hand up to find the wetness between her legs, making him groan.

"My delicious queen...tease me all you like, but I shall not touch you, unless you are clear about what it is that you wish for."

She moved her hips to meet the entry of his fingers, pleasuring herself on his hand, as he slipped two fingers inside and began to stroke her sensitive bud with his thumb.

He let her rock and grind herself on him, pressing his thick digits deeper as she held on to one shoulder of his with her uninjured hand.

And he watched greedily, trailing down from her face, along her arched body to between her legs where his fingers entered her.

It was apparent she was close as he could feel her clenching around his fingers.

And then she stopped, opening her eyes to look into his.

"I need you to...fuck me..." She reached down to release his painful erection, and slid her dripping wetness onto him, moaning at the fullness.

"This is what you want?" He managed to rasp the words, having trouble holding himself back at this point. So he pinched her nipples in his hands hoping to get her attention, but it only seemed to heighten her stimulation more now.

"Ah...more you could possibly ever know..." She shuddered pressing herself right down to his balls.

The deliciously wet sound it made drove him wild. Lifting her injured hand up, he flipped her over so that she lay beneath him. Then he lifted one of her shapely legs over his shoulder and pulled her down to bury himself deeper inside her with a cereal grunt.

Soon he would be pounding deep inside her with wild abandon, letting the world fall away around him, and forgetting all the fear and worry.

In that moment, where their breathing fell in alignment, and , there was only him. And her.

...

Dear All

thank you for waiting so patiently - please accept my apologies for the delay in posting.