Edit 3/12/25: (False alarm. I already posted this chapter back in December, but because my other chapters I've tried to post after this won't appear for some readers, I decided to delete and repost my last three chapters. Fanfiction is going cray-cray)

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Sorry I disappeared for so long. I had an ER visit that kind of put me out of commission the whole holiday season. I was pretty blown away by everyone's response to the last chapter though! I've made it to 200 reviews! I laughed each time I got a review because it reminded me of why we're all REALLY here ;) Throw in a hot kiss with a certain King and suddenly everyone's commenting. A special shout out to Kaylani Kin who private messaged me, begging for an update. Your little push was what I needed to post this.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and enjoy the spice! (Chef's kiss)

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"When you kiss for the first time, it's like fire within your bones. Like your soul has returned to 'the water'. Like every part of you that came from a dead star is alive again." -Nikita Gill

~Chapter 32~

Liquid Fire

The initial contact is soft, tentative...a delicate whisper. Silky smooth lips that I've dreamed of kissing for months are gently pressed against mine. I marvel at the paradox of such a strong man having such soft lips. The sensation of his facial hair lightly brushing against my cheeks sends liquid fire coursing through my veins.

At first, Thorin tenses, his breath catching in surprise, perhaps disbelief and my heart flutters with a wave of sudden anxiety. Nothing has truly been resolved between us... no decisions made, no promises given... and yet, here I am, kissing him?! It was a reckless impulse, one that surged from deep within, defying my better judgment.

Just as I'm about to pull back, ready to plead for forgiveness or explain my impulsiveness, his arms rise to envelop me, his large hands cradling my back. A deep rumble vibrates from his throat, like the groan of tree roots finally finding water, and he pulls me even closer into him.

My fears and doubts, even the looming weight of fate hanging over us, all dissolve into the ether. The world fades away, as if we are the only two souls in the universe.

My hands reach up on their own accord to weave into the rough warmth of his beard, enjoying the subtle stutter of his breath against my mouth. Hair is an intimate thing for him, and as if guided by an invisible force, our kiss deepens, igniting within us a molten current of shared longing. Every glance, every conversation, every painful moment of yearning that burned within us...

It's all accumulated to this singular moment.

Thorin's initial surprise completely shifts into a wild abandon, his fingers exploring the curve of my waist, my back, my neck, leaving trails of fire everywhere his fingers touch. His behavior reminds me of one who fears he'll wake up from a dream, this moment vanishing and he'll lose his chance to map the uncharted territory of my body. There's a hint of desperation in his movements, a slight tremble in his hands. Hesitent yet eager.

Groans of contentment and blissful sighs escape out of my mouth and into his. His large hand gently finds it way past my hair to warmly grip the back of my neck, pulling my mouth firmly against his mouth as if he wishes to devour the sounds I make.

It ignites my blood like gasoline catching fire.

His taste is rich, a blend of sweet honey from breakfast this morning with a hint of something smokey. I can feel the heat radiating from him, warming my soul, and I eagerly press closer, reveling in the sensations pulsing through me. The sensations he evokes in me are overwhelming and intoxicating.

Much MUCH too soon, I finally have to pull back, dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His eyes open with wonder and he gazes at me as if I'm the most wondrous thing he's ever beheld. His familiar features transform into something almost tender, softened by the way his eyes crinkle with joy. His lips curve into an astonished smile, revealing a brief glimpse of his teeth. His expression is one I've never seen before. His joy ignites something similar within me, an explosion of wholeness and bliss. The only way to truly describe it is as a song. Like a melody that fills my soul with light I never knew existed, as if there's a sun where my heart should be. In this moment, sitting inches from the man I've come to love, I feel inexplicably complete.

And as we hover in this charged moment, everything else falls away, leaving just the two of us - lost, found, and irrevocably changed.

I want to hold on to this feeling forever.

"Peyton," his deep voice washes over me as his warm hand cups my cheek, blue eyes shining as his warm thumb gently caresses my skin with an almost reverent touch, "You are my One."

His tone sounds as if it's a long-kept secret that he's guarded within himself, revealed at last.

I smile, a light chuckle escaping me. It's not much of a surprise, honestly. "I know," I gently reassure him, reaching up to touch his face as well.

He seems surprised though. His brow furrows, "You... but, you said you didn't believe in a 'One'?" He gazes at me, seeking an answer. The affection I see brimming in his eyes sends a thrill through me and I lean in closer, not wanting to be away from him for even a moment longer.

"I didn't. Until I met you," I whisper against his face, my gaze locking onto his. Meeting him changed everything.

This time, he bridges the gap between us, pressing his lips to mine with renewed passion, more fervent than before. Our breaths mingle, warm and frantic, as our shared uncertainties melt away into an undeniable need. I feel a tremor run through me and I tilt my head to find a deeper angle. The kiss is becoming a tapestry of sensations, a sweet ache that pulls at the corners of my heart.

Breathless gasps and contented sighs escape my lungs. It's exquisite, as if time's taken a breath, holding us in the suspended magic of our entwined selves. I can feel the pulse of his heart beating in rhythm with mine, and with every shared breath, every gentle movement, the kiss becomes a declaration, an exploration, an embrace of everything we had never dared to say.

There's something else though. The way his mouth presses against mine, hesitant yet eager, brings a striking revelation! This is his first time kissing! I slow my frantic movements, surprised by the discovery. I should have anticipated it, obviously. Dwarves don't go around kissing casually like they do in my world. Yet, the fact that Thorin is earnestly trying to return my kiss fills me with an unexpected warmth. His inexperience is almost endearing, and for a moment, I'm grateful to have finally found something that the incredible, larger-than-life Thorin Oakenshild is not skilled at!

I refuse to hurt his pride by teasing him about his kissing abilities, so instead, I decide to show him. Gently, I shift my mouth against his, guiding him with the rhythm of my own kisses. It seems he likes it, judging by the slight intake of breath and tightening grip on my waist.

My hands resume their exploration of his form; the chest muscles through his shirt, his thick arms and shoulders, roaming greedily upward until they weave possessively into his thick dark hair. His grip on my waist tightens slightly at my daring behavior, and a low groan, almost a growl, escapes his throat. The sound vibrates through my mouth, rich and deep. I relish the sensation of the soft strands threading through my fingers as I open my mouth against his closed one, delicately pulling on his hair just to hear his quiet gasps and quickening heartbeat.

He responds in kind, his lips moving against mine, sloppy yet hungry. While he's not the most skilled kisser I've encountered, what he lacks in finesse he more than makes up for in passion. The need he evokes within me is unrivaled by anyone I've ever kissed before. His skin feels like fire against mine as I press eagerly against him.

I'm burning and I want more.

His hands venture to the small of my back, his fingers gripping near my hips, pausing just shy of the curve of my bottom. Part of me wishes he'd let his touch stray lower, craving more contact.

I impatiently shift my weight over him, bringing my leg up and around to straddle his hips, seeking the delicious warmth of contact as I push him back into the hay, wanting to close every last inch between us. I never break our kiss for a single moment.

The sudden switch in position catches him off guard though. He gasps, eyes wide, breaking the kiss at the coiled tension between us. His breathing is heavy and his deep voice, for once, sounds uncertain, "P-Peyton...wait."

I pause in my quest, confused at his request, and lean back an inch, suddenly aware of my own ragged breaths as I wait for him to clarify. His gaze is one of surprise, our breaths intermingling as we breathe each other's air. He swallows, not continuing with his line of thought, his dark eyes seeming to devour me while his strong hands grip my waist. Yet, he appears torn, unsure.

I let out a huff of breathless amusement, taking a deep breath to regain control over the electricity thrumming through my veins and the sluggish honey of my thoughts. Realizing what the issue is, I feel a new sense of giddiness. This is new for him. To go from almost a two hundred-year life of complete celibacy to such intense intimacy in one hour is not going to happen. I need to cool my jets. I might actually be overwhelming him with all these new emotions he's experiencing.

Slow. Take it slow, I inwardly remind myself, gently berating my eagerness.

I ponder this conundrum. Balin's explanation of how dwarves court feels woefully incomplete. Have we skipped a few steps? He mentioned something about a contract and a braid. Perhaps Thorin allowed me to kiss him because, as Balin suggested, he subconsciously already felt that he was courting me? Love overwhelms my heart again, filling it to the brim.

Alright. We'll take it slow.

I attempt to move back, to get off of him and give him space, but the strong hands resting on my hips gently squeeze, refusing to let me go, holding me captive against him. Not that escape is something I truly desire. His hold on me reassures me that he isn't quite ready to part, either.

"Sorry," I whisper, marveling at the sight of the fearless King of Dwarves reduced to his basest instincts underneath me. By me. "I couldn't help myself. I've wanted to do that for months," I admit softly, feeling flushed by all the bravery I've suddenly found.

He relaxes and gives breathless chuckle, his teeth flashing as if I've just both amazed and amused him. Reaching up, he tenderly runs his large hand through my hair for the first time, his eyes watching as it weaves through his fingers reverently. With a gentle touch, he pulls a piece of straw out, and when he meets my gaze again, his smile is both teasing and tender. "Took you long enough, Zundush," he says, the unfamiliar endearment warming my heart.

His playful demeanor eases the tension between us, and I find myself smiling back before huffing, the question of what 'Zundush' means on the tip of my tongue. Thorin's grin widens, his eyes flickering down to my mouth as if he can sense it there, and leans in for another kiss before I can ask. In playful retaliation, I draw a choked growl from him when I draw his bottom lip gently into my mouth and suck.

But then, like a thunderclap, reality crashes in. Footsteps echo outside the barn, accompanied by laughter as two dwarves banter jovially, approaching the doors.

Panic jolts through me, as I recognize their voices. Fili and Kili! The company!

Fear fills my heart, replacing the bliss and wholeness I'd just felt. What will his nephews think about me snogging their uncle?! What will the company think when they find me like this with their King?! I let out a startled gasp, eyes widening as I rip myself free from Thorin's hold, rising up and stumbling back as if he were electric. My mind races, desperately searching for a way to mask what just happened, but my mind draws a blank when I catch Thorin's shocked expression as he makes no move to hide.

Why isn't he reacting? Why is he just sitting there, staring at me?

I quickly turn away from Thorin just as Fili and Kili stroll into the barn with a burst of laughter as they recount something amusing that Bilbo has just done.

I avoid their gaze, my heart racing with fear, confused by Thorin's inaction. He's had the fastest reflexes I've ever seen throughout the entire quest (like his quick thinking when the hay fell down onto us). So why isn't he trying to hide this? Isn't he embarressed about his nephews seeing us?

I try to hobble casually to the far side of the barn, as if nothing had transpired and that was my intended direction, but Kili and Fili's sudden silence tells me they suspect something. The puffy lips and messed up hair of their uncle is probably a dead give away. Adrenaline rushes through me, making my movements feel awkward and unsteady.

I focus on the cluster of fluffy chicks that have scuttled into the corner after the hay fell down. Their tiny bodies are a welcome diversion, but every fiber of my being is tuned into the silence behind me. Despite my resolve to NOT look at them, my body betrays me after only two seconds and I involuntarily glance back.

"Hi, guys!" I call out, forcing cheer into my voice, only to flinch at the sight of the wide grins spread across their faces. Their astonished smirks flick between me and their uncle, who glares at them with such dark intensity that I'm grateful they're his nephews; otherwise, I'd have to save them from his wrath.

Thorin finally stands up, brushing the straw off his clothes with an air of composure and calm, before his gaze shifts back to me. I quickly turn my head back to face the chicks, my face burning as a flurry of memories floods my mind: his heat, the feel of his lips, his beard, his hands...the sensation of straddling him.

This can't get any worse.

Fili breaks the silence, his tone casual but laced with mischief behind me. "Uncle. Peyton. We... just wanted to let you know that Gandalf suggested we help Beorn with different tasks around the house, just like you did yesterday, Pey. That way, he'll be more willing to help with supplies." His words barely conceal the glee in his voice, but he holds back on his uncle's account.

"But we can always give the others your apologies and let 'em know you're busy…" Kili chimes in with laughter dancing in his tone, obviously not worried about his uncle's wrath in the slightest.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose. If only the ground would open up and swallow me whole. A sharp THWACK! echoes in the barn, followed by Kili's yelp. No need to look to know Fili just chastised his brother, saving Thorin the effort.

I was foolish to think I could deceive them. They may not always be the sharpest, but it's impossible not to notice the charged energy lingering in the air. I hope this doesn't give them any ideas about the riddle on my shirt...

I clear my throat, obviously needing to say something. "Uh, no, that's…that's not necessary guys." My eyes dart to a pitchfork leaning against the wall, clearly not Beorn's from its size. I grab it quickly, improvising, "I'm just going to finish forking up the hay real quick and, um… I'll meet the three of you back at the house to ask Beorn for assistance."

(Although, I really should get a break from all the work I did yesterday.)

"Thanks again for saving me from the avalanche of hay, Thorin," I offhandedly direct in his direction, not meeting his gaze as I pitifully continue my attempt to dissuade his nephews from whatever they're thinking happened. "See you guys later." I begin stabbing the pile of hay with vigor.

Do not push him away like you do with everyone else… Galadriel had told me. And I don't want to…but...what am I supposed to do?! Go back to snogging Thorin in front of his nephews? Uh, no. That's just...no.

"Peyton." Thorin speaks up after a few awkward moments of silence, his rumble deeper than usual. All the previous worries and doubts from before come back over me like an avalanche of straw and I keep my gaze locked on the yellow pieces I'm stabbing, stubbornly ignoring him.

"Peyton, please."

His tone startles me, dragging my eyes up to look up at him. There is an anguished look on his face. His expression silently saying a hundred things that I don't understand from a culture I haven't learned. But I do understand one of them: Pain. He thinks that I'm rejecting him.

I'm not!

Am I?

No! I just...

"It's ok, Thorin," I attempt to reassure him, a shaky smile breaking through as I glance nervously at his young nephews before focusing back on him. "I'll be done in a minute! And then...I'll...I'll meet you inside, and we can talk later. Ok?"

Kili steps forward, worry and regret in his eyes that replaces his earlier teasing. "We really didn't mean to inturrupt-"

"No, no! Don't even worry about it! It's fine!" I cut him off, waving away whatever they are suggesting happened like it hadn't happened at all.

Thorin's face seems to darken and an uncomfortable silence stretches between us, heavy and taut. I can't bear it, so I turn back to my work, stabbing at the hay fiercely. "I'll find you when I'm done. Promise." I say yet again, trying to quell the turmoil inside my stomach.

What am I doing?! I don't want to push him away!

Maybe I should just...hold my head up high and tell Fili and Kili to accept the fact that I made out with their uncle, and deal with it, consequences be damned. They're eighty-two and seventy-seven years old for crying out loud!

But it's a knee-jerk reaction, an automatic trigger to the embarrassment of being caught. Especially from their insessant teasing during this quest.

Thankfully, I hear all of the Durinsons' heavy footsteps as they leave through the Barn door. The last thing I hear is the murmur of Thorin's low voice, rumbling in angry Kuzdul to them, his tone biting. Soft, remorseful responses sound from Kili and Fili and then silence.

What was I thinking?! Kissing him like that?! Climbing onto Thorin and pushing him into hay...clearly, I've lost my mind. After a few moments lost in my head, I give up the illusion of being busy, and I stop my relentless pitchfork attacks on the innocent hay. With a sigh, I lean against the wooden wall. My legs tremble from exhaustion and the shoulder that Azog dislocated is now aching from the strain. I blink back tears, throat tight with regret.

I wasn't thinking, and that will always be a special ingredient for disasters. At least I asked for forgiveness BEFORE doing it (though that feels irrelevant now). I have made a complete fool of myself by tumbling in the hay with the King Under the Mountain and unveiling feelings to him I have tried so hard to deny. It's kind of a relief though? To be honest. It was a foolish thing to do but...I cant find it in me to completely regret it. The moment felt so right and I truly couldn't help myself. It was...flawless.

Everything is going to be so different now that 'the box' is blown wide open. What on Middle Earth am I going to do next?

A voice suddenly breaks through the chaos of my thoughts, rich and deep like the rumble of thunder, "Why do you hold back, little mouse?"

I gasp, heart leaping into my throat as I whirl around, clutching the pitchfork. Beorn stands back in a deeper portion of the barn, watching me.

"Beorn! Uh, hi!" I manage to stammer, taking in the sight of his giant form. Has he been standing there the whole time? My mind races...he's very quiet when he wants to be. I notice a side door behind him. "I...oh! Um, hold back on what?"

He tilts his head, no judgment in his eyes, merely curiosity, "Your feelings for the dwarf, Oakenshield. Why do you reject your feelings?"

I gape at him, a mix of panic and embarressement rising up to my cheeks. I don't know how much he saw but hopefully not much since Kili and Fili would have noticed him there, right? Then again, they didn't notice freaking Trolls stealing our ponies which you'd think would be hard to miss, so I can't really rely on their spatial awareness.

"I...I'm not sure what you mean," I lie.

"Even if I hadn't witnessed your kiss, the pheromones you two emit whenever you're in the room together speak for themselves," Beorn says, his voice firm yet devoid of judgment. "You cannot lie to me, little mouse. I recognize and understand animal instincts."

My mouth opens to protest, but one look into his peculiar eyes makes it clear that there's no outsmarting him. There is an unmistakable air of raw honesty with Beorn. After all, he is part animal. I feel like Gandalf, a bit foolish for trying to deceive him in the first place. He must have heard my panicked cries from when the avalanche of hay fell on us and came to investigate.

And I've been...emitting pheromones? I feel more embarrassed about that than anything else he's said. But it makes sense, I guess? The way my heart races and body reacts anytime I'm close to Thorin isn't exactly new. It's only gotten more intense over the past few months in his company, which resulted in our heated kiss.

I narrow my eyes, face flushed with embarrassment and a little anger. It isn't any if his business! "If you saw the kiss then that was literally me NOT denying my feelings and I…" My anger flushes out of me, and I'm suddenly afraid again. Afraid of what consequences will come of it, "Please, Beorn. Don't say anything to the dwarves. It's already super awkward, and...and..." The words tumble out of me clumsily, as I try to verbalize my fear and vulnerability.

Beorn chuckles softly, an amused glint in his eyes as he shakes his head. "There is nothing to be ashamed of." His voice is rich with understanding, his words meant to be soothing. "All living beings feel the push and pull of attraction. It is the way of life."

I glance down at my boots, face blazing at hearing him say it aloud in such simple, animalistic terms, "I mean, yeah, I know that, but... it's just... it's really complicated."

"What is complicated?" Beorn inquires, continuing without a pause. "You are in love with him; he is in love with you…what is keeping you apart?"

A warm thrill shoots through me as he speaks of love, but I push it aside, "Because...like I told you before, I'm not from Arda. It's always been part of the plan to go back to my world once this is all done."

The thought claws at my insides painfully, a fierce longing blending with trepidation. The plan to go home feels distant now, as if a door is beginning to close.

Beorn frowns at this, "If I may impart some counsel, little mouse…don't."

"Don't what?" I ask, eyes wide. "Don't go home?"

"Don't let love slip through your fingers." He replies simply. The weight of his words hangs between us with undeniable gravity.

The moment pulses with unspoken truths, and my heart races at the implications. Could I really let true love slip away? The closer I get to Thorin, the more undeniable our connection becomes. He draws me in like the sun draws a sunflower, and I feel myself gravitating toward him, aching for that warmth.

Galadriel's words echo in my mind, of how I always get in my own way of happiness and progression. Maybe Beorn is right? Maybe I shouldn't let true love slip away from me. I was supposed to be a true friend to him, and I did my best. Progressing from aquaintance, to friend, to love felt like a natural occurance.

But I can't help but worry about how my love for Thorin might affect the world around us.

Uh, that's the kind of thing you think about before kissing someone, don't you think Peyton!?

Unbidden, the memory of him tugging me close come back to my mind. The taste of his soft lips against mine, sends a rush of electricity racing through me. A flash of fire rushes through me at the wayward thought.

"Just the thought of him makes your scent stronger," Beorn chuckles before giving me a look. A knowing glimmer in his eyes. "Don't let love slip you by, Peyton Silva. It does not come often, perhaps only once in our lives, and when it does...it needs to be safeguarded, lest it be lost."

I feel a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over me as Beorn mentions yet again the 'smell' I'm putting off. But I'm distracted by the nostalgia that seems to permeate his tone. Is he speaking from experience? Did he's lose someone? There's so much about his past that I don't know.

"I...I'll keep it in mind." I murmur, looking down at my boots, feeling exactly as how he describes me: A scared little mouse, cowering in the presence of something monumental that could change everything

Beorn nods, then gestures behind him toward the door he came through, "Come. My friends have told me of your hard work and sacrifice to clean, and cook, and care for them. Now, you shall be rewarded for your service."

"Oh! Uh, o-ok?…" I set the pitchfork down, surprise fluttering within me, quickly shifting to excitement and gratitude, "I-I mean, you don't have to. I wasn't, you know, expecting any thanks for my work."

The disheartened feeling that had settled over me last night begins to dissipate, replaced with a spark of joy at this unexpected acknowledgment of my efforts.

"And that is precisely why you shall have it," Beorn says as he leads the way with large towering steps, "It is not often that I have visitors. And fewer still are those that come with helping hands."

My heart feels a pang of sympathy at his words. How draining it must feel to have travelers come to him for help, but none with the intent to help him. In an instant, my past efforts to serve feel like nothing at all. I'm really glad that I could contribute something to his home yesterday.

The memory of the hen and her chicks come to mind. Just the feeling of seeing another's happiness is reward enough for a good deed. My heart feels a warm pang of satisfaction shoot through it. Could that be the answer to getting more light?

I follow Beorn to a small wooden structure set a little way off from the main house. He opens the door, and my eyes widen in surprise at the sight of a staircase leading down underground. A cellar?

"Follow me," he beckons, stepping into the cool shadowy depths.

I hover at the threshold, hesitation gripping me at the sight of cobwebs draped in the corners above the stairs. "Uh, I… I don't think I can. There are spiders down there." A shiver dances across my skin, goosebumps rising on my arms as dread washes over me.

"They shall not harm you." I hear his voice rumble from down below.

My hands tremble as I grip my arms to hold myself. I take deep, steadying breaths, forcing my feet to move forward. I take one cautious step after another, warily scanning the dusty webs for any signs of life skittering. My skin crawls, but I persist.

The air gets cooler the farther I go down, and my skin prickles with relief as the sweat on the back of my neck and arms cool immediately. The cellar is enormous, practically a mini-bunker, but with someone as big as Beorn, it has to be larger than a human cellar.

There are wooden shelves down here, with crates and baskets storing an assortment of foods such as potatoes, onions, apples, and many types of grains. Dusty glass bottles and vials catch the dim light from the open door. He reminds me of one of those 'Doomsday Survivalists' for the Zombie apocalypse.

From this amount of storage, I wonder if Beorn hibernates for the winter?

The Shapeshifter returns from somewhere deeper in the back and I find him towering beside me once more, a warm smile spreading across his rugged face in the dim light. "You have served me, and now I will serve you…with this." He offers his hand and I see a small vial cradled delicately in his enormous palm.

"What's this?" I tilt my head, squinting as I reach for the glass vial. It's about the size of a small 5 hour energy drink from my world, a clearish liquid swirling inside.

"This, Peyton, is Havenmal. Or 'Liquid Fire', in the language of my people." He holds the vial up for my inspection, "It will give you the courage you need to conquer your fear."

My eyes flash up to his in surprise. He puts the vial in my hand and gently covers it with his enormous one, "Your task requires a great amount of courage, does it not? More courage than you have heretofore possessed. This will aid you."

"Havin-maal?" I sound the strange name out, turning the vial in my hands in wonder. I've never heard Tolkien mention it before. I study the clear liquid inside, noticing that there's a slight opaqueness to it when slightly shaken.

He nods, "It is a recipe passed down from a time my ancestors and elves joined forces against our common foes. It was created to give courage in battle." The tone of his voice catches my attention, carrying the weight of a long history unknown to me.

"So, it's like a Felix Felicis?" I glance up at him excitedly, grinning.

"I know not what that is," he replies simply. His deep brown eyes lock onto mine, "But my friends told me of your search for 'light.' Whatever darkness that pursues you must be very grave indeed, for you worked tirelessly yesterday."

I swallow and nod, my fingers tightening around the vial. Could this really help me complete the quest?I study the clear liquid once more. I have to resist the ring and go through Mirkwood. I will save the line of Durin.

"How do I use it?" My voice comes out firm, full of determination.

A flicker of approval shines in his eyes as he nods. "For one as small as yourself, take it in sips. I do not recommend consuming the entire bottle at once. The effects usually take hold within fifteen to thirty minutes."

I expel a gust of breath, nodding in understanding. "Thank you, Beorn. I really hope this helps me like you say it will."

He inclines his large head, and we make our way back up from the cellar. At the top, I'm surprised to see Gandalf waiting, his expression stern and serious.

"Is all well?" The Maiar-in-disguise asks, his sharp gaze fixed on Beorn as he emerges from the cellar behind me.

"Uh, yes. I'm going to be able to continue on the quest now!" I say, grimacing a smile. "Beorn gave me this." I hold up the vial for his inspection. "It should help me through Mirkwood."

Gandalf can't hide the relieved sigh he gives before he hides it behind his gruff old man persona once more and scowls at me, "Well good! I've been at my wits end with you and your fear of spiders! Maybe at last some sense will find it's way into that head of yours!"

His expression is serious and gruff, but I catch a glimpse of the hidden relief and fondness he feels for me in his gaze. Then, his eyes shift with curiosity as he examines the vial I hold. Taking a deep breath, I feel a surge of determination. Whatever evil awaits me in Mirkwood, I must face it.

"What do you need for your journey?" Beorn asks Gandalf, his expression serious.

We both look up at Beorn with surprise, unable to hide our relief. He's going to help us get through Mirkwood!

Gandalf immediatly bows his head, humbly, "Whatever you can spare, we would be most grateful."

Looking up at the giant Shape shifter, I explain, knowing that Gandalf needs to be more specific, "It will take us two weeks to travel through Mirkwood and we will all starve by the end of it. As much food and sleeping gear as you can spare for sixteen people. And we'll need horses to get past the orcs to get to there in one piece."

Beorn nods, "You shall have it." He then gives me a look, before glancing pointedly to the house behind me, "I believe you have a conversation to finish."

My stomach flips with nervousness as I think of my impending discussion with Thorin, while at the same time my blood warms with the thought of being close to him once more

I glance over at Gandalf, wondering if he somehow knows what transpired, but his expression is unreadable, watching me intently.

Taking a deep breath, I nod as I turn and make my way toward the main house, my heart pounding in my chest with every step. The lingering smell of hay and Thorin fills my senses, and I feel a mix of longing and anxiety wash over me. What will I say? How can I explain the whirlwind of emotions that resulted in our kiss? Do I even need to explain it?

As I approach the door, I catch sight of the dwarves milling about, preparing for our journey ahead. Kili and Fili are engrossed in conversation but stop abruptly at the sight of me. They study me silently, their speculation hanging in the air like an unspoken question.

"Ah, so you're back. Good." Nori says, calling attention to my arrival. The rest of the company looks up from their various tasks, their attention shifting to me. Nori releases a puff from his pipe, giving me a sly look, "We were beginning to think we'd have to send out a SECOND search party." His teasing friendly tone tries to mask the concern and curiosity in his eyes as he gauges my emotions.

I can't help but feel bad, realizing how the others must see the situation: I left, upset. Thorin went after me to make amends. Then Kili and Fili went after us. Only for all three of them to return with Thorin now upset and Kili and Fili now in bad spirits, which can only serve to worry them further. They don't seem to know what's happened yet, with Kili and Fili speaking to only themselves.

Thorin stands a little apart from the group as well, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression stoic and unreadable. The moment our eyes meet, a spark of electricity ignites between us, and I feel my resolve strengthen. I can't avoid him forever. I need to talk to him.

I try to smile at Nori, "Yeah, I just...I've decided to continue on with the quest! Had to find my courage, you know?" I hold up the small vial as if it's a trophy.

"Really? You're still coming?" Ori's sweet face lights up, and he comes over to where I stand.

The company all break out in relieved and happy smiles and nods, "Ah, See? What I'd tell ya!" "That a girl, Pey!" "Tough as nails, she is!" "Are all women this fickle?" "Aye, lad. They are, they are."

Ori's excitement shifts to curiosity when he notices the vial. "What's that?"

"Liquid courage," I reply with a playful grin. "It'll help me get through Mirkwood. Beorn gave it to me."

At the mention of Beorn the dwarves seem to lose their enthusiasm, glancing between me and the vial warily, some glancing at Thorin to guage his reaction to Beorn's unexpected gift.

I roll my eyes at their assumptions about me and Beorn and I ignore everyone, taking a deep breath before striding towards Thorin, determination fueling my steps. As I approach, he straightens, his gaze unwavering, filled with an intensity that makes my heart race. The others fall silent as they sense the moment unfolding between us.

"Thorin," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. "Can we talk?"

He nods, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes replaced by a determined resolve. Without a word, we head toward the door together. I resolutly do not look at ANY of the company's expressions as I pass through, too afraid to find out what they think about any of this.

The sun filters through the trees, casting soft, dappled shadows across the ground, adding to the weight of the moment pressing down on us. Thorin leads me away from the house, guiding us to a secluded corner of the yard, far from curious ears. Once there, he folds his arms and stands silently, waiting for me to begin.

"About what happened…" I start, but surprisingly Thorin cuts me off.

"You are ashamed of me," He states, his face a mask of calm. But I can tell he isn't calm based on the clenched fists he hides under his thick arms.

My stomach drops, as does my mouth in disbelief. Is that really what he thinks?

"No, Thorin!" I whisper, shocked, "I could never be ashamed of you!"

His eyes flash with a hint of anger and barely concealed hurt, "You could barely even look at me while my sister-sons were in the barn. How can you say you were not ashamed? And before you deny it further, I wish for you to know that I do not regret kissing you," he says, his voice firm, yet his eyes betray his vulnerability and he continues in a softer tone, "I do not regret any of it."

My heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. "I don't regret it either, Thorin. But I was embarrassed that your nephews almost caught us in a compromising situation! Weren't you embarressed?"

"No," He states, his eyes holding mine, "I was relieved. Happy that I would no longer have to hold back my affection for you. But you are afraid. Afraid of what it means, afraid of what will happen next. I can see it in your eyes."

My brow furrows. Is this a dwarf cultural thing that I'm not aware of? Is that why he didn't try to hide it when they came into the barn?

"Yes, I am afraid! Afraid my mission is impossible!" I throw my hands in the air, allowing my emotions to spill over. If he's going to be honest, well, then so am I! "Even you said that you thought me mad at first! How am I supposed to save you from AZOG?! He almost ripped my arm off!"

Thorin's eyes flash, and he reaches for me, hands at my arms as he gently grips the arm that had been dislocated, "Azog will never touch you again. We will find a way."

"It's more than that," I shake my head, voice trembling as I lay my fears bare. I need to be completely honest. "It's YOU who is ashamed of me! I heard what you said." At his furrowed brow I prompt, "To Gandalf? About your people not accepting me?" His eyes narrow in concentration before widening in understanding and I smile sadly at him, "I don't know how I can fit into your life, Thorin. And what's the point of staying if I can't be with you?"

His eyes warm at my admission before he shakes his head, his voice a rasp of regret, "That was not for your ears. Gandalf believed that I was not doing enough to encourage you and took me to task. I was angry with his meddling and spoke out of turn. I never once spoke from my own heart. My people may need time to understand, but that does not change how I feel about you." His eyes look back up at mine, burning with conviction, "And Gandalf was right. I did not want to force you to choose between me and your family, so I did my best to remain silent. And also there was the matter of you and Bilbo-"

Now its MY turn to inturrupt, and I step back from his hands on my arms, "Wait, wait, wait...what's the matter with me and Bilbo?"

Thorin watches my face for a moment before sighing and looking into the distance behind my shoulder as if embarressed, "The company and I mistakenly believed that you and he were...more than friends."

My mouth drops open. "Say what?!"

He shifts, folding his arms once more, "I said-"

"I know what you said! You thought that he and I...that we...were together together?" I burst into shocked laughter. "What made you think that?!"

Bilbo is amazing and yeah, we're close. But the idea of kissing Bilbo has always made me feel queasy, which signaled to me that it'd never work out between us. It'd be like kissing a brother. Bleh.

Thorin raises a stern eyebrow, "Do you share pillows with all your 'friends'?"

I chuckle, face flushing as I realize the implications, "Oh, come on! We didn't SHARE pillows! I just...swiped his pillow from his home and then traded with him once on the trip."

Thorin nods stiffly, his voice gruff, "He explained as much."

Bits and pieces of the company's attitude fall into place, due to Thorin's treatment of Bilbo and I roll my eyes as I realize the cause of it all. "Seriously? All of that over a pillow?!"

Thorin clears his throat, looking over my shoulder once more rather than meeting my eyes, "There were...other things."

"Like what?" I challenge, folding my arms, matching his stance with a raised eyebrow. If Dwalin were here he'd probably laugh at us again, mirroring each other's stances and bickering like an old married couple.

His dark eyes finally flick to mine, noticing the challenge in my stance and accepting it, "You went into his room the night before the quest."

I wave my hand, "That's nothing-"

"You lived alone with him for two months. You gained all your travel supplies from him. You chose to sleep next to him rather than me. You-"

"Okay, OKAY!...you made your point." I hold up my hands to stop the onslaught, my cheeks burning. I can clearly see now how our friendship had been horribly misconstrued, especially by such a conservative group of dwarves. Heck, even Hobbiton had thought there was something going on until Bilbo clarified that he was my brother-in-law twice removed. And while I tried to do the same with the company by treating them as if they were my brothers and family; there's always been a familiarity between Bilbo and I that came from living together and getting to know each other.

Sudden realization hits me that even Bilbo had tried to warn me off. Several times. But he's too dang polite to outright tell me 'no', especially when he knows I'm innocent and don't mean anything by it.

I'm SUCH an idiot!

I let out a sigh and step closer to Thorin, drawing his full attention to me as I place a hand gently on one of his folded arms. "I'm sorry that I caused you pain because of that. It was never my intention and I didn't see what it might look like from your side of things. I've always been attracted to you, from the very beginning."

Thorin's expression softens at my admission, the annoyance in his eyes flickering to something gentler, something hopeful as he smiles.

I then bring up probably the biggest reason of all, my voice dropping to a sad murmur, "But how can I stay when I have a family waiting for me back home?"

Thorin's smile drops as does his folded arms and he steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming as he searches my eyes. He slowly reaches for me, and I allow myself to be drawn into the comfort of his strong arms, our eyes locked together, close once more like in the barn.

"I have lost most of my kin. My mother and grandmother to the Wyrm, my brother and grandfather to battle, and my father to the wild," He murmurs gently. He lifts a hand and cups my face, his warm hand cradling my jaw, "None of those were by my own choice, which is why I cannot pretend to know the burden you carry," His voice drops to a whisper, his sad eyes intense, "But I do know this: I do not to wish to let you go. Not now that I have finally found you."

His words wrap around my heart, more than a hundred years of longing carried within them. I actually get a little teary eyed. "Thorin…"

"Stay with me, Peyton," he implores, his tone earnest, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hope. "Help us reclaim our homeland, and I shall make you a home and give you a family to call your own."

If my heart didn't just melt into a puddle of goo in my heart, then I don't know what just happened to it.

I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. The idea of a family with him, a laughing home full of children makes my heart feel so light, I'm surprised I'm not floating. The only reason I can account for why I'm NOT floating around in the clouds is because the weight of my past, of my responsibilities, looms large. Can humans even have children with dwarves?

"And what of your death?" I ask again, a sudden lump in my throat.

He smiles, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against mine in an intimate tender move. "The Valar sent you to fix that," He whispers.

I huff a bitter laugh and shake my head lightly against his forehead, "Where did all this confidence in me come from? You thought I was mad, remember?"

He dips his head slightly, so I have to look into his serious eyes, "I have seen things on this quest that has grown my confidence. When you saved Nori from the lightening, I realized that you can do more on this quest that simply 'look pretty'."

I flush at the compliment then roll my eyes, amused as I recall his words about Bilbo's and my abilities to faint and look pretty back in Baggend. So much has changed since then. There's still the threat of the ring and I still don't know what the 'Greatest Power' is or how to harness it. I bite my lip, worried.

"You came from another world, an impossible feat in and of itself, and yet how can you doubt after all we've accomplished?" he whispers, his voice raw and vulnerable as he sees doubt seep back into my mind. "The Valar have already foreseen this, which is why they've sent you. Let me show you what we can build, together."

In that moment, everything else fades away. The fears, the doubts, the looming uncertainty...all of it is eclipsed by the fierce longing in his gaze, the promise of something greater than I could ever find in my world. My heart swells with emotion, and I know that I can't let fear hold me back any longer. I came here for a reason after all. Me. Not Dwayne the Rock Johnson, or Jackie Chan, or John Cena. But me, a simple college student from Nevada, United States.

It's fate.

"I'll stay," I whisper, the words tumbling from my lips, my heart wide open, taking a chance. "I'll stay and I'll fight. For you and for our future."

Thorin's eyes shine with a mixture of disbelief and joy, and he releases a breath I didn't know he'd been holding. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. His blue eyes hold mine as he vows, "I shall not take this for granted."

He leans down, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss, somehow even sweeter than the one we experienced in the hay. Full of promise. The world fades once more as the warmth of his body and the strength of his presence envelops me like a shield against all my fears. In that moment, I make a silent vow to him and to myself: I will be brave, no matter the challenges that lie ahead.

End of Chapter

Reviews? Anyone? Anyone at all?... :)

I had everything set to post this before Thanksgiving and I didn't want to make you guys wait very long. But then I unexpectedly had to go to the emergency room due to severe abdominal pain. My dad always taught us kids to avoid the hospital unless we were on the brink of death, so I ended up waiting until I was literally experiencing internal bleeding to go in (talk about a lesson learned! ). Unfortunately, I suffered a miscarriage during Thanksgiving week, and since then, it's been hard to find the motivation to work on anything. I'm really sorry for neglecting the story during this difficult time, especially after receiving so many wonderful reviews on the last chapter. It's been a tough holiday season, but I'm trying to focus on the positives. On a brighter note, Christmas was nice!

With that said, I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year! And today is my birthday! Can I get a shout-out from all the December babies out there? :)

Now, for some music! I heard this song and immediately thought, "These lyrics describe Peyton perfectly in this chapter, haha!" (Bonus points if you can name it. It's a popular one!)

"I can't fight this feeling any longer, and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow. What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

… I tell myself that I can't hold out forever...I said there is no reason for my fear, 'cause I feel so secure when we're together. You give my life direction. You make everything so clear.

… And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

… And I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fighting for. It's time to bring this ship into the shore and throw away the oars, forever.

… 'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for. And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door...Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

… My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you. I've been running 'round in circles in my mind, and it always seems that I'm followin' you, boy, 'cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find.

… And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

… And I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for. It's time to bring this ship into the shore and throw away the oars, forever.