Chapter 29

"Beginnings are such delicate times." - Frank Herbert

Saturday evening came much too quickly for either of them. The soft voice of Dís let them know through the bedroom door that the bath was ready. She would see them tomorrow for breakfast. Good night.

The bath room (because it was in fact a room specifically for bathing and only bathing) was on the bottom floor of the house, at the end of the west wing. Thorin led her down around the ninth evening bell, after they'd eaten dinner and made love once more. The house felt quiet aside from the soft pad of their feet on the polished hardwood and their whispering.

Erdene stayed close to him, hugging his arm, "it's cold."

Thorin took her small hand, finding her fingers a little blue at the nail bed. He rubbed her hands in his. "The bath is hot. Come."

He was right, it was an almost hot, humid room. The room, as big as two lavatories put back to back, held a small charcoal fired cast iron stove bright and cheery with a fire inside. The copper bathtub at the center steamed pleasantly with a fairly herbal scent. There were fluffy looking blue-gray towels set on a counter to the left, and plain looking terracotta jars with faded black writing on paper labels.

Thorin let go of her hand after a small squeeze to gather a sponge and check the jars. He picked two of them and brought them back. "Tell me which you prefer." He opened both, holding them out for her to smell.

The first wasn't her thing. Peony and something else much too sweet and candy like. She wrinkled her freckled nose at him, shaking her head. He held out the other. Apples and citrus. He smiled when she nodded.

"I thought so." Thorin returned one jar and brought back a second.

The lights were low, and, despite Thorin's repeated praise of her body and how much he did like what he saw, Erdene was still nervous as she pulled his black and silver tunic over her head. He was already shoving his trousers down. He was unintentionally sexy in the way he moved, and that semi he was sporting told her they might need to christen the bathroom too.

I get to make love to him for the rest of my life.

He laughed low and deep, the sound rumbled in his chest. "If you watch me so ibinê, I will have you again."

Blushing, ducking her head, Erdene bit her lower lip. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Thorin chased her across the room, Erdene teasing him, before he caught her with both hands, her back to the wall, her eyes a fire of topaz and blue.

She giggled, clinging to him, sweaty and well fucked. "And people say it gets better the longer you're married. How the hell are we supposed to get better? Mind-blowing sex has been achieved."

He nuzzled her cheek, kissing her there. "You say that now, ekûnê, but what will you say in ten years?"

Erdene turned her head to kiss his lips. "I'll probably say, pull out this time, we have enough kids."

Mahal. He chuckled and did indeed pull out. His seed and her orgasm a steady trickle down her legs. Thorin took a small hand towel from the cabinet on the wall, dipped it into the water and cleaned her calves and thighs, gently wiping her clean. A soft hiss escaped her lips. His gaze rose.

"Just a little sore." She offered him a shy, somewhat guilty smile. "It felt really good at the time though. Have I mentioned I love how strong you are and that you can throw me around like I weigh nothing, because that's a huge turn on."

Her assurances stroked his pride, though he frowned at her still. "You will tell me if I ever do hurt you."

"You'll know. My moans will be more, ow, ow, get off me." Her fingers tapped on his shoulders. "Now can we get in the bath and get clean so we can get dirty again?"

Thorin rose, pecking her lips gently. "Insatiable. Aye, come."

They were seated in the tub just the way they had in his dreams. His back against the copper and her between his thighs. "Tilt your head back," he urged and she did. He took the pitcher on the small table with the sponge and gathered water to pour over her hair.

It loosened the knot he placed in her braid immediately. He put the pitcher to the side, taking the courting braid and gently opening the simple knot.

Her hands stopped him. "Thorin," her tone was much too worried for his liking.

He kissed her worried brow. "Your hair needs to be washed, ekûnê. I will braid it again once we are done."

Her fingers remained on his forearm as he took apart the braid and teased out her hair. Then he took up the container and a scoop of pale orange and pink soap for her hair. Apples and citrus and something warm like caramel.

Thorin began to learn her sighs and moans were all a little different. There were sexual ones, the ones that had him painfully stiff even though he was the one torturing himself by soaping her breasts and stomach and thighs. It did not help that very much like his dream of a future not too far from their present, Erdene was impatient to have him inside her again.

He pulled her back against his chest, whispered harshly in her ear before biting her earlobe, "Are you not too sore?"

Her answer was to turn in his lap, place her water slick hands against his chest and kiss him, her tongue dueling his for dominance. This bare faced, headstrong, stubborn young creature is his One. She matches him breath for breath, her body complimenting his. Her strength, inner and outer built to match his own. She dug her fingers into his wet hair as his mouth traveled south, sucking, biting and licking at her pulse.

Mahal. Thank you.

Thorin carried her the whole way back, thoroughly enjoying his view of her body in a thin muslin shift, a Durin's blue robe, and new gray woolen stockings. She refused the panties, eyeing him knowingly. She took all of the offered clothes including a robe.

"I'm not bothering with those. I'll get bent over the bed or the chair or taken up against the wall again. No point."

Erdene wasn't wrong. The moment they were back in his rooms he had her on the chair. Though this time he pulled out, spilling his come on her bare tummy. She pouted at him for it.

"Wasteful. That could have been our twins." Her eyes grew large a breath after the words were past her lips. Both of her hands covered her mouth. "Sorry! I'm sorry. I know we're not supposed to talk about it."

Thorin kissed her forehead, "all is well amrâlimê, things are bound to slip."

That did not seem to help her discomfort. "But we already broke the rules about me always being under guard. Are you sure?"

"As long as we do not divulge repeatedly." He kissed her wrinkled, worried brow once more as he cleaned them both off. "I know it is considered bad luck. It is discouraged to prevent foreknowledge of events that have not passed from being kept from happening. The future to come is not always set in stone. What we see may not alway come to pass."

What was meant to ease her discomfort only served to make her withdraw more, shrinking in on herself. When she bit her lower lip it was not with the wanton need of topaz in her gaze but amber and gray. "I…need to use the lavatory."

Poor Thorin looked so confused when she all but ran away to hide. Erdene managed to keep her hands from shaking until the door was closed behind her. He was trying to reassure her, she knew that. On some level it did sort of help but on another. It made her anxious enough that her pulse jumped and her mind sped and her hands shook.

Because his death was the thing set in stone. J.R.R. Tolkien killed Thorin Oakenshield in The Hobbit. His death was supposed to be this symbolic death or pride and it always seemed so damn pointless. Then the animated movie killed him again. Her mama never understood why Erdene cried so hard. Or why Erdene said (though Ery does not remember saying it because she was four) they didn't draw him right. Then Peter Jackson's vision of The Hobbit (in which Thorin was finally depicted the way he should have been, his actor coming close to how he should have looked) killed Thorin again. When Hollywood eventually remade those movies in sixty to seventy years, he would die again. Every time someone read The Hobbit for the first time, Thorin died. Over. And over. And over.

Here she was, Thorin's soulmate. His eventual wife. The future mother of his children. With their lives, their future hanging in a precarious balance based on whether she could change a single moment in time or not.

Erdene forced her shaking hands flat against the wall holding up the single mirror in the washroom. She made herself breathe. Count backwards from 100 by seven. By fifty-one her fingers were white and bloodless but her breathing was under control. She swiped at her face, dipping her fingers in the water basin and flicking her face with water a few times.

Then she used the bathroom and cleaned herself up enough to return to Thorin. Who was reading shirtless in bed. His long, somewhat damp black and silver hair falling around him, tucked behind one dwarven ear. Erdene climbed into the bed next to him, snuggling up to his right side. He obligingly raised his arm to tuck her closer, against his shoulder and chest.

Her small cool fingers touched his stomach muscles, tracing them. "What are you reading?"

He closed the book. "The letters of Vier The Merchant to his wife, Una." Thorin tipped her chin up, searching her face. "I cannot ask what that was about, can I?"

She broke eye contact, pressing harder against his side, her face against his neck as she whispered. "Not yet." Erdene kissed his steady pulse. He was alive and real and in her arms. Right now, there wasn't more she could ask for. "Read to me?"

Read to- "Erdene you could finish this book in a few moments."

"I know, but I love the sound of your voice."

Thorin didn't argue. Not with the tremor of tears edging her words. Mahal. Please. Whatever it is, may it never come to pass. He read until the first morning bell, until her breathing had long since evened out and her hold on him loosed in sleep. He set the book aside, pinching out the candle flame and pulled the blankets over them both.

The dreams are supposed to end when you bind your One to you. Yet here is a future version of himself walking with a tall, blonde haired woman that looked much like the drawing of a young girl he once saw. She looks older, there is a little gray at her temples and small lines at the corners of her eyes.

She smiles at him, patting his shoulder. "Don't worry so much Thorin. You have enough on your plate."

"Beatrice," he says as they slow outside a door he knows well. His grandfather and grandmother once lived in the apartments behind this door. "I do appreciate your help."

"Anything for my second favorite cousin-in-law."

"Second." He says.

Beatrice, much like Erdene does, shrugs at him. It is such a familial expression, his future self half expects it. "Listen, Dís will always be my favorite. Don't be jelly."

He did know his sister. He does not understand what being 'jelly' is. His future self does, however and laughs. "Aye, I shall endeavor to not be jealous of my younger sister. I still hold second place, and that is well enough for me."

He opened the door to his wife chasing two young children, a boy and girl, across the small dining area and under the table. "You can't hide from the tickle monster!"

The blonde boy, his hair is toward the darker end of blonde but there is no mistaking how it catches the sunlight, who Thorin knows is not his child squeals upon Beatrice entering the room and shouts, "mama! Aunt Ery is the tickle monster! Hide!"

The girl, however, is quite obviously his daughter. She has long black curls and hazel eyes laughs, ducking away as Erdene straightens. The girl runs straight toward Thorin who catches her and lifts her.

She giggles, pecking his cheeks, her small hands on either side of his face. "Adad, say Gran and Aunt Betty can stay the night, please!"

The boy scowls. "Grantham. She's such a baby."

Beside him Beatrice sighs. "Be kind to your cousin, Grant. She's five. You're seven."

"Dale is not far, bunnel," Thorin assured his daughter. "Aunt Beatrice has agreed to come and teach you."

His daughter frowned. "Is it because the words and letters jump around on the page?"

"Beats, seriously, thanks." Erdene said softly, joining him and their daughter. She gently tucked large curls behind their daughter's decidedly dwarrow ears. "Remember what amad told you, Rose, it is called dyslexia and is not bad."

"Right, I have it too kiddo. So I'm going to teach you how to work with it." Beatrice tapped Rose's small nose. "You'll be reading your school books just fine. I promise."

Rose scrunched her nose at her aunt. "Really?" She wiggled in Thorin's arms. "Really really?"

Grantham groaned in annoyance. "Mama! No! She's a baby!"

Then Rose did the most surprising thing. She turned and laughed at Grant, sticking her tongue out at him. Which only makes the boy grumble and huff.

Thorin woke Sunday morning with Erdene's head on his chest. Her breathing still even as her eyelids fluttered in sleep. Watery gray light filtered through the curtains. Much too early to be awake. He stroked dark hair from her sleeping eyes. He smiled to himself, resting his head back against the pillows, drawing Erdene a little closer with a gentle nudge. She clung to him in sleep, one leg thrown over his.

Whatever it was she saw, they would get through it and past it.

"Do we have to?" She pouted, sad pale green eyes met his in the mirror. Erdene ran the comb he gave her through the ends of her curls. "Can't we just stay in here for the rest of our lives having fantastic sex and food delivered twice a day?"

Chuckling, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing the top of her head. "Naked and pleasuring one another?"

She waved her comb at him. "Yes!"

He took it. Mahal how he loved her hair. Would all of their children have curls? He himself had waves. His mother's hair was a cross between waves and loose ringlets while his father's had been nearly straight. "If we could, amrâlimê, I would have no objections. I would happily spend the rest of my days worshiping you and your body." In the mirror she blushed, he watched it color her nose, ears, neck, breasts. "May I braid your hair?"

"A loose braid, please. My hair isn't as dense as yours, I'll lose my curls if it's too tight."

He nodded, weaving a loose half up, half down braid to bare her neck and shoulders. To bare the marks he put on her neck and body. He stroked the mark on her pulse when he was done. "If we could stay here for the rest of our days, Erdene, I would happily."

Pouting, she took his hands in hers. "Can I still sleep in here tonight?"

"Of course."

She nodded, rising from her spot, turning to touch his collar, straightening it. They had three and a half days of a mini-honeymoon. They made love so many times. So many. That she was pregnant after the last four days seemed surreal. "I don't want to leave our happy little bubble."

He kissed her forehead, "nor I."

Tugging him by his belt, "Back to bed then."

"I must begin your betrothal gift, Erdene, if we are to marry sooner rather than later. For that, I will need to be in the forge. And your lessons in history, Khuzdûl, and court etiquette will not begin without your presence."

Okay. Okay. Didn't mean she wasn't going to pout. "Fine. I suppose. Let's go be responsible adults."

Thorin stroked her lower lip with one of his thumbs. "Your tone and temperament tempt me to put you over my knee."

She bit the tip of his thumb, half smiling, half pouting. "Oh no," Erdene stepped into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. "Please don't." Her tone said the exact opposite, almost begging him to carry through.

Mahal's breath. "And you call me insatiable."

Erdene sighed, taking a step back. "Your self control is both incredibly sexy and ridiculously frustrating."

"Tonight, ekûnê." Thorin promised before opening the door to his rooms and ushering her out.

Aside from good-natured ribbing, mostly directed toward Thorin, Sunday morning's family breakfast was a quiet affair. Erdene found herself placed at Thorin's right, while Fíli sat to his left, Kíli sat next to Erdene, Balin across from him next to Fíli and Dís taking the other chair at the end of the table opposite Thorin.

She hesitated sitting down, frowning as she did so. "I'm not taking anyone's seat am I?"

"No irak'amad," Kíli said, helping himself to three sausages, "that is your seat."

It felt odd. Sitting with them as they began to talk about family things. The servants were beginning to pack up and cover the furniture in the unused rooms. Dís informed Thorin of the progress on putting together a small caravan for the trip to Thorin's Hall and Ered Luin. The ponies would arrive the day before they left, which would be Friday November third. The last of the groceries would arrive Thursday November second to allow for packing. They would leave and shutter the estate Saturday November fourth, by mid-morning.

"There are a few families who have reached out to request traveling with us. Ríel and the branch house of Keh." Dís said, touching her notes. "Should we hire on a guard?"

To which both Fíli and Kíli groaned. "amad!" Kíli said at the same time Fíli turned to Thorin with a pleading gaze, and began speaking in rapid Khuzdûl. Which, had a sort of rhythm to the words, a repetition of syllables and accents here and there.

"Westron," Thorin admonished with such a fatherly look it made her ovaries sit up and purr hello, "Erdene does not speak Khuzdûl yet."

Fíli, looking quite apologetic, said, "forgive me, aunt Erdene."

Which was so weird to hear from someone she knew was fifty years older than her. "I promise, I'm trying to learn as quickly as possible."

Kíli, ever the troublemaker, dropped his protests for, "trying, auntie? Balin and amad haven't begun your lessons yet."

Oh, he wanted to be a smart ass, huh? Tauriel better be prepared for that shit. Despite her faint blush she echoed exactly what Fíli said to Thorin, and finished by biting her toast. "Yes, trying."

His cocky smirk faded around the edges. "That is uncanny."

Erdene shrugged. She took the small plate of baked, cubed potatoes dusted in salt and pepper, adding them to her plate. "It's the way my brain works. Most of the time it's a useless party trick. Sometimes it's useful. Like when I'm going to need to learn a new language." Or she had to figure out what two nasty little vipers said to her soon to be husband.

Gah. She's actually going to marry Thorin. They're courting. They spent the last three and a half days on a mini-honeymoon. Erdene grinned into her next sip of tea.

"A small retainer, Dís," Thorin said, "If you please. No more than four. You and your brother are capable, Fíli, Kíli, however there will be others who are not."

Finally the eggs came her way, fried sunny side down with fleck of pepper decorating the top. She took three. And two sausages with a couple of slices of toast. And there were more oranges!

She looked down at her plate. I'm going to gain fifty pounds. Though the voice sounded like her grandmama. Maybe don't eat the carbs. No. Carbs were favorite part. Especially potatoes. But she didn't need-

You need to eat. Your body needs fuel to maintain your muscles, your hair, skin, nails, eyes and teeth. Your organs require fuel to keep you alive and healthy. If you want to keep having sex with Thorin, you need food to keep up with him.

Besides. Their sex was a whole body workout in and of itself.

She blinked, breathed and despite the pit of apprehension in her stomach, Erdene grabbed a slice of toast and put an egg on it and took a bite. Then another. And another until she finished the slice and egg. No one else seemed to even care what she was eating.

Thorin and Fíli were deep in discussion about Fíli wanting to be a scout for their trip. Balin and Kíli were exchanging light hearted banter about Kíli not being crown prince and therefore not required to know as much about trading contracts. Balin was insistent Kíli should be present during Erdene's tutorials. Dís was reviewing her list of things to be accomplished.

"Can I help with anything?" Erdene asked.

Dís began nodding quickly. "Nan'ith, if you are up to it, we should order your new wardrobe from Valis sooner rather than later." Dís said, moving on with her notes.

Erdene blinked at her, then at Thorin. "New wardrobe?"

Dís, glowering at her brother, sighed, "Mahal, while I appreciate that you two were trying hard to bring a bairn into this world," both Fíli and Kíli choked on their respective food stuffs. Balin covered his choking with a polite cough. "I would appreciate if you spoke a little more about the important things!"

Thorin took Erdene's closest hand in his, kissing the back of her knuckles. "You have two dresses, ekûnê. You will need more for our return to Ered Luin."

"Oh…okay. I have a few gold-"

Next to her Kíli snorted. Erdene, tired of his shit, smacked the back of his head in response, which, much to his surprise, he actually felt. It didn't hurt, but he felt it enough for his head to move forward. He rubbed the spot, brow furrowed. Mayhap she wasn't as much man as she was dwarrow.

"You will not pay." Thorin told her quite firmly.

Oh. Hell. No. She dropped her fork with a clack. "Thorin."

"Erdene." He replied in a similar tone.

She set her napkin on the table next to her plate. "May I see you in the informal living room, please?"

"A new wardrobe? Seriously?" She said the moment they were far enough away.

"You are my intended. It is expected you look the part."

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I can pay for my own clothes."

"You will not."

"I am submissive in bed, Thorin, not anywhere else. You don't order me around. Equals don't do that. If I'm going to be your wife, your queen, the mother of your children, you need to ask me." Her eyes remained a steady amber, not a hint of violet to be seen. Her voice hadn't risen, nor had she thrown an accusation.

He found, just as he had Wednesday, his anger abating. Mahal. This is how all of their future disagreements will be. Calm clear resolve to temper his anger. "I do not understand your opposition. They are simply dresses, Erdene. A half dozen at most."

Of course he didn't understand. If she had been any other woman, they would have been overjoyed he wanted to buy her a new wardrobe. These were her scars not his.

Erdene had to focus on not letting her voice tremble when she said, "The one that can give you everything on a silver platter can also take it all away." Her breath caught in her throat. "I trust you, I do. I don't think you'll just start stripping me of anything you want to give me, but you need to remember I have lost things I held precious and dear just because of the whims of my own family. Please don't make me anxious about something as simple as the clothes on my back."

The rage he held toward her family simmered under his skin. He breathed out through his nose, shaking his head. "Never will I take from you anything you are not willing to give me." Thorin approached her, kissed her forehead, nose, trembling lips. "Erdene…your family. They cannot attend our wedding."

"They won't. Even if, believe it or not, you're exactly who I was expected marry. Handsome, and rich."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Being royalty too would just make my grandparents fall all over you."

"Royalty in exile."

"They're superficial. The caveat wouldn't deter the fawning."

"Come. Let us finish eating before your stomach begins to protest."

"Haha, very funny."

They returned to the dining area and the air felt tense. Thorin kissed her hand, she pushed up to kiss his cheek and the tension seemed to ease. Fíli shot his brother a look that once more said see, I told you to which Kíli shot back a silent but how? Their uncle was moments from his temper coming into play. Then Erdene had done something. She must have. Uncle was smiling after they were so close to having an argument.

Dís nodded at Balin who nodded back. Her brother's temper was as notorious as his strength of will. Erdene's mettle was holding up as only Thorin's One could.

"Dís, could we go see Valis tomorrow? Next week won't leave enough time." Erdene asked,

Dís glanced at her brother who was already engaged in talking to Fíli in low tones. "If you wish nan'ith."

Thorin wiped his mouth, kissed Erdene's hand once more. "I will be in the forge should anyone require my attention. I will see you tonight, amrâlimê."

Erdene, blushing from scalp to chest, "tonight. Have a good day love."

Is she allowed to fan girl her own relationship? That's not weird is it? That she and Thorin are this happy? That they communicate this well? She's grinning like an absolute idiot when she went back to finishing her meal.

And her soon to be nephews were staring at her. "What?"

"Wrapped around your tiny little fingers. How did you manage it?" Kíli asked.

Oh. He wanted to go there. Fine. They could go there. Mountain climbers feel no shame. "Multiple orgasms and sex tend to make most males manageable." Erdene punctuated her statement by chewing her sausage (which tasted quite nice, pork with rosemary).

Kíli and Fíli spit out their food.

Khuzdûl was not a written language. Fantastic. Balin grimaced as she loosed a series of curses in both German and Spanish.

"Sorry," she huffed in frustration, "I usually use a primer to get me started. The alphabet, numbers, idioms and expressions, holidays, colors, and pronouns." She waved her hand around. "You know, that kind of stuff."

Balin did know. It is typically how they began with dwarflings. His sons learned colors first, then numbers. "We can cover those first if you prefer?"

Her smile was soft, "actually, and I am sorry in advance, but, could you tell me how to say good morning sleepy head?"

It is almost automatic from his end. "Beard. Typically an intended will say 'good morning sleepy beard' to their spouse or betrothed. It goes both ways. Male and female."

She may not have meant to, but Erdene touched her jawline by her right ear. "Am I ugly to you?"

"To me? No, my lady, you're quite comely for a dam without a beard. It surprised me. Your dwarrow ancestor passed quite a heritage to you." Which was the polite way of Balin saying, 'If I were eighty-odd years younger and not married, I'd look twice'. He was, however, married quite happily. Miredi, Balin believed, would like Erdene. "You and my wife share a commonality. She is half."

Dís warned him that Erdene's eyes shifted colors. Magic of the eyes, mayhap. Every dwarf had a little magic. One had to be close to see it. The quick snap and shift of amber to blue and gray. "You're married?

"Aye, these last sixty-three years. My One is named Miredi, she claims no house." Not that he would accept those that were her house. Not around her and most certainly not around his three boys.

Thorin implied to him in so many words that he now understood why Balin disliked Miredi's mannish kin enough to bar them from Ered Luin entirely. He would not elaborate beyond, It is good Erdene's family lives so far from here. I never wish to meet them. Pray they never wish to meet me.

The lass smiled so brightly, "that's wonderful! I can't wait to meet her."

Balin blushed to the tips of his ears. "Thank you my lady. I am certain she will like you very much. Shall we begin with colors, or numbers?"

"Colors please, then numbers, and then if we have time before etiquette, common expressions." She, like any dutiful student would, readied her quill over a piece of parchment and waited for him to begin.

Miredi, as a teacher, would adore her. Though his sons would be quite a bit older than those born of Thorin and Erdene's union. His eldest would turn fifty-nine in a few months.

"Colors, let us begin with the colors of the House of Durin, khagal, blue, danakh, green, zigil, silver, ziriz, golden, and narag, black. Ered Luin has it's own shade of blue called, uslunkhagal."

Erdene was nodding as he spoke, mouthing the words quietly to herself. "Balin, what about sky blue? How would I say that?"

"Khalath. Might I ask why?"

She smiled brightly at him, then bit her lower lip with a light blush. "Thorin's eyes are sky blue."

There were twenty-three different variations on a curtsy in dwarven politics. Every single one of them was reserved for the variety of dwarrow that belonged to the court. There was one specifically for each of the seven royal houses, one for those who were some variety of noble, one for those of the merchant class, those of the tradesman unions, and on and on. Ones for greeting and excusing one's self, both depended on whom they were greeting and whom they were leaving. A few for meeting human royalty/nobles.

Thankfully that lesson led into history. Which was almost entirely oral history. Passed down from dwarrow to dwarrow since the fall of Moria. Of course Balin began at the beginning with Aulë and the making of the dwarrow.

The seven houses, the seven kingdoms of the dwarves, and Durin the Deathless.

Then law. She rubbed her temples. They started with the basics, those things that were against the law. Theft and the differences of petty larceny versus grand theft. Murder. Which was so rare the last one occurred during the crossing and had been committed against a woman who attempted to take off with a small dwarfling. The woman had been killed trying to escape their encampment with the screaming baby. Treason was unheard of, but there were a good many laws in regard to it.

By the time dinner came around Erdene's head was buzzing with a lot of things she would have to sort through later. Most of it matched up to what she knew about dwarves from reading Tolkien's works. Some of it didn't. But then she never read the Silmarillion.

Tolkien was lovely and he could tell a story but sometimes he was long winded as hell. It was on her reading list right behind the 1000 other books she had on her reading app. Like Iron Flame which she bought in advance and now would never get to read. And Assistant To The Villain, also paid for in advance. At least she had everything else she downloaded.

Erdene went to her room before dinner and began working on putting her handful of things away. She put her old gym bag at the bottom of a chest that slid under her bed, with her purse. She made a few notes about her last three trackable periods before turning her phone off and putting it away. She had just locked the lid when Kíli was at her door, knocking politely.

"Dinner is ready, irak'amad." He took a cursory glance around her room before, "I was wondering where you would stay. Amad told us irak'adad asked that you have your own space should you want it."

Seriously. Could she fan girl her own relationship? "Thank you Kíli. Has Thorin come back in yet?" It was weird not seeing him all day after the last few spent exclusively with him and only him.

His brow creased as she frowned a little. "No, he'll likely be most of the night in the forge."

But…then, no sex and snuggling? Don't. Pout. He's making a sword. For you. To tell all of dwarrow society he wants to marry you. Do not pout. "Thank you Kíli. I'll be down in a moment or two."

He nodded, still frowning a little and left.

Valis told her dwarves had their craft and often they dedicated themselves to their craft entirely. It shouldn't have been a surprise for Erdene to find out her blacksmith boyfriend probably wouldn't leave the forge for a while. Not if he was working on a gift for her.

He said she could sleep in his room tonight. It sounded like he planned on joining her. Maybe he just planned to work late into the evening?

Either way, her stomach rumbled and Erdene resigned herself to dinner with the in-laws.

Thorin returned late, just after the eleventh bell. He washed in the bath room and made his way up the stairs to his room holding his plate and a small dessert platter of butter cookies. He found his door cracked open, the air much too cool inside, with Erdene curled under the blankets, the quilt from her room pulled up as well.

He put his meal and the cookies down to begin a fire. There were faintly warm embers from the last fire, possibly lit when Erdene went to bed. Once it was crackling again, and the room began to warm, he went back to the bed and lit a low candle by the bed. Erdene had a book on her side of the bed, the same one he read the previous evening to her. The corners of his lips curled upward as he moved three thick curls from across her brow.

Dark eyes blinked open, smiling sleepily at him. "What time is it?"

"Late. Sleep. I'll join you soon."

"Mmm, no, how was your day?"

Thorin chuckled, "I was forging your gift. It went well. And yours?"

"My brain is swimming with how to curtsy for the right people and colors and numbers and history and laws." She yawned, burying her face in the pillows. "I missed you. Are you coming to bed love?"

Mahal. He would never grow tired of this.

Next chapter is going to be something a little different. Then a quick time skip to keep this story moving.