A.N. Soooooooo….I once again wasn't happy with the direction this story was going, and began the second rewrite, starting with the end of chapter 11. I promise, that I am dedicated to finishing this story, I've just been struggling with the right path for it. Praying this will be the last rewrite. Thank you so much for your patience. I just want this story to be the best it can be.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters, and plot points.

The sun was just barely rising when Thorin, Danica, and Gandalf made their way out of the valley. Their farewell party consisted of Elrond and his family. There were tears in Danica's eyes as she hugged them. While Thorin felt relieved to be getting back on the road, it meant listening to the ticking clock on his and Danica's time together. The two of them remained as close as possible through the cold mountain pass. Once they reached the other side of the Misty Mountains, they took the road to the Old Ford, where their paths would diverge. With every step, Thorin felt his resolve slipping away, and had to find ways to strengthen it.

There were men who had made their living near The Old Ford by renting rooms, selling supplies, and offering boats to those traveling south during high season. The trio reached the group of establishments on a cool, rainy afternoon with the threat of a thunderstorm looming on the horizon. They went in search of shelter for all of them, and somewhere for Gandalf and Danica to buy some kind of transportation south.

"No boats going south now," a ferryman informed them. "The river has been too high and quick of late. No knowing when conditions will lighten. You'll have to go get some horses,"

It clearly wasn't the answer Gandalf wanted, but they made their way to the stables. After some haggling, Gandalf managed to get two fast horses that would get them to Rohan, where they could trade for two more until Minas Tirith. As for Thorin, a troupe of performers were heading up to Dale, and, upon meeting them, seemed genuinely pleased to allow him to join them. Everyone would be crossing the river, and then make their separate ways the next morning. With that weighing on them, dinner was a somber event. They gave a couple of toasts to safety, and successful journeys, but otherwise remained quiet.

Bedtime approached quickly, but as Thorin and Danica refused to be parted, they shared a room. Keeping the heavy silence from dinner, they helped each other prepare for bed, then climbed into each other's arms. The pain was palpable, no matter how hard either one tried to remain strong. Danica cracked first, tears soaking into Thorin's tunic.

"I'm sorry," she murmured when he cradled her closer. "I didn't want to cry,"

"You need not apologize," he soothed. "Would it help if I took you right now?"

He had meant it as a joke to slow the flow of tears, but there was real hope in her eyes when she looked at him.

"Please," the word was ragged, and before he could object, she pressed her lips to his. It was soft at first, but quickly turned desperate. "Please," she moaned again.

Who was he to deny this request when he wanted it just as badly? There was no knowing when they would see each other again, which left a physical ache in his chest. If something happened to pull her out of this time, or this world, he wouldn't be there. It all terrified him. So, he took comfort in the warmth of her lips, and weight of her body in his arms.

Just as had happened at Bilbo's party, their bodies knew exactly what to do. Instead of ravaging, they took each other slowly, savoring each touch kiss and caress. Using gentle, easy strokes with his fingers, he brought her to a breathless climax. When she was still limp and warm, he slipped into her. It took much of his will power to hold on past the first few thrusts. To his surprise, Danica rolled them over, leaning down to kiss him fiercely. Whatever control he thought he had, she easily stole. By whipping her hips, she mercilessly brought him to his own end. All he could do was grip her hips as hard as he could.

She lay on top of him for a few moments while they caught their breath. He lightly dragged a finger up and down her spine, causing her to arch her back like a cat.

"You have never known the power you hold," he murmured as she slid to the side. She just gave a contented sigh as response.

Even though he tried to just enjoy the moment, the coming dawn continued to haunt him. To distract himself, and try to lull her to sleep, he began humming the song that she had taught him so long ago. The song that was as much theirs as the rings on their fingers, or braids in their hair. She hummed with him for a little while, then fell silent as sleep took her. While he was able to find some rest of his own, most of the night was spent watching her sleep. When the sun began to rise, he was less ready to part than when they had gone to bed. He knew she was struggling just as much, and used every opportunity to touch her while they were dressing. There was barely enough time for them to break their fast, and then Gandalf was urging them to get moving. Danica kissed him deeply.

"Make sure you get some sleep, so that I can seek you out," she said.

"I now have more incentive than ever before in my life," he held her close, and knew that letting her go would break his heart. "Be safe, and join me in Erebor as soon as you are able,"

"I promise,"

One last kiss, and then she mounted her horse, and was gone.

"Are you coming, Master Dwarf?" one of the performers called, gaining his attention.

"Aye," he responded, looking south for one breath longer, then turning north, and joining the caravan.

It had all seemed so fast, and finding himself suddenly without her left him sullen and silent. For most of the day, the performers let him be, content to talk and sing amongst themselves. When they stopped to make camp for the night, their leader, a man named Nathir approached him.

"You are welcome at our fire, if you wish. No one will bother you. Everyone here recognizes and respects grief. Was it your wife you left this morning?"

All Thorin gave was a nod, but he did follow the man to where the campfire was being set up. While many smiled in welcome, they gave him space, and didn't force him into conversation. Not only did he respect that, he was also deeply grateful. As Nathir had observed, he was still grieving, and he worried for Danica's safety. However, there weren't too many people who could protect her better than Gandalf.

"Forgive me for saying so, but I do not know as I've ever heard of a dwarf marrying a daughter of man," Nathir commented casually. "With one notable exception of course,"

Which was a reference to the tales of himself and Danica, he was sure. However, there was something about Nathir's words that struck fear in his heart. He'd been careless when they had bidden each other farewell, and had, perhaps, cast some suspicion on their identities. He had given his false name, but had his actions rendered that useless? No matter his fears, he kept his face neutral, knowing that any other reaction could arise even more doubt.

"It is not common, but neither is it completely unheard of," Thorin responded as easily as he could. "In fact, she and I married in secret. I go to Erebor to explain what I can to my kin, and then I will join her, so we may make a life together,"

A few of the others had heard him, and he could tell they had a love for romance by the smiles on their faces.

"Congratulations to you, then," Nathir raised a glass in a toast, to which everyone joined.

"Did you ever meet King Thorin, or his wife, the Lady Danica?" one young woman asked eagerly.

"She was not just a lady, but a queen," Nathir's correction came just before Thorin's would. Color stained the girl's cheeks.

"I did not," Thorin replied. "Most of my life was spent in the Iron Hills. Only recently did I decide to do some trade in Ered Luin. As for Erebor, my family did not move there until after King Fili took the throne," the lies came easy, but were bitter on his tongue. He'd never enjoyed lying, even when it was necessary.

"Nathir, would you tell us their story?" another girl asked.

Nathir sent an amused, if not exasperated look to Thorin, but obliged. He was a masterful storyteller, and had everyone completely focused on his every word. It was like magic, but Thorin could still not ignore how odd the experience was. If he had thought bilbo's account was romantic, it was nothing compared to this. There were times he couldn't keep a brow from lifting at the shameless hyperbole. Then again, reality had also been something too magical to believe, if one hadn't lived it. One by one, as the weaving of Nathir's words continued, each member of the troupe drifted to sleep until only Nathir and Thorin remained awake.

"What do you think of the tale, Master Dwarf?" Nathir inquired when he had finished. "Is it like the tales your people tell?"

"A bit more fanciful, perhaps," Thorin replied with a wry smile. "I suppose that is to be expected given the nature of the source material,"

One corner of Nathir's mouth lifted. "Indeed. Perhaps you would be willing to share some tales of your own on this journey?"

"Maybe,"

The two smoked a pipe in amicable silence, but Thorin still felt a bit uneasy. After all, the man's brown eyes were keen, and seemed to miss nothing. In fact, there was much about him that seemed almost elf-like. He was tall and lean, with lithe limbs, and straight, almost perfect dark hair. Despite this, there was a quality about him which made it impossible to completely dislike him. Though he was shrouded in mystery, he was clearly honorable, and cared for those under his leadership.

"I should thank you, for letting me join you," Thorin said after a while. "The roads have been growing more dangerous by the year,"

"It is our pleasure. Part of the joy of being a traveling group is that you get the privilege of encountering people from nearly every race and culture. However, we have never had a dwarf travel with us before, so we were all excited about the opportunity. As for the road being dangerous," here his eyes darkened, their normal friendly light gone, "just last year, two of my girls were taken by orcs. Some of the men and I followed to try and rescue them, but by the time we reached them, their bodies had been used, cut, and discarded,"

It was sickening, but nothing new when it came to the conduct of orcs. "I am terribly sorry. No one should have to endure such horrors,"

Nathir shook his head. "To be honest, I take pleasure in killing any orcs I can get my hands on. They are a cancer in this world,"

Thorin couldn't agree more, but kept the reasons why to himself. The two shared a couple more anecdotes, and then Thorin elected to go to sleep. It had been a long day, and he was eager to see if he and Danica would find each other. As it only took him a few minutes to fall asleep, he didn't have to wait long, and there she was, a smile on her face with a coastal breeze stirring her hair.

"You're late," she admonished, but then jumped into his waiting arms.

P.S. Reviews and comments welcome!