Saving Durin {Hobbit/Thorin}

Chapter 49: Thorin goes to time-out

Chapter 49:

Thorin goes to time-out

I awake the next morning to my favorite sight, Thorin's chest. There I lay, hand and head resting on his torso, feet tangled with his own, and his arms wrapped around my waist. His large body practically cradles mine in the light of the new morning, my eyes fluttering open to wince at the light. As I pull away, my eyelashes brush against Thorin's chest, alerting his awakened state of my own consciousness. He pulls me tighter against him, causing me to look up at his shining blue eyes and glowing skin. We exchange a smile that radiates love and relief, though sorrow still pulls at my heart.

"Goodmorning, my love," Thorin greets me, leaning down to press a small kiss to my awaiting lips. As we pull away, I rest my forehead on Thorin's so as to get a better view of the eyes I love so much. A deep blue, almost black, ring surrounds his pupil, the blue color fading as it moves farther from the center. Specks of gold and white litter his eyes, making the blue all the more radiant.

"Goodmorning, Thorin," I respond with a smile. He looks at me with such adoration at these words. As he has told me in the past, the dwarf king loves when I address him by his name, for it "sounds perfect" coming from my lips. Then again, I could be cursing him out, and Thorin would still say that I sound beautiful.

"You need a haircut," I add in at the end of my address, now looking over his mangled locks of blood and dirt. Neither Thorin nor any of the company has had their hair trimmed since the origination of the journey, causing them to look like bearded elves with frayed ends.

"I would agree, unless I want to continue looking like Thranduil," Thorin remarks sending me into laughter. I tilt my head upon his chest, chin resting below his collarbone, to look directly at the king as I continue to laugh. As usual, the dwarf king looks entranced in love by the ringing of my laughter, like how I am captivated by his rare smile.

"How did I ever get lucky enough to have you?" Thorin asks with such sincerity that it shocks me. I gape at him, mouth open a bit and no longer laughing, to look upon his serious face. His black hair rests along his cheekbones, blue eyes peaking out and skin glowing gold. If I was more ignorant, I would think him to be the Valar reincarnate.

"How did I ever get lucky enough to have you? You're a king, for Durin's sake!" I respond with my eyes still lingering on his perfect features. His blue eyes search my gray ones with a lack of ferocity and an overflow of questions.

"You're a queen," he easily responds with the loss of curiosity within his eyes. Thorin now looks to hold a deep respect as he looks at me, though love still permeates his looks with the shining of his eyes and upturn of his lips.

"Only in title, Master Thorin," I answer with the formality that he hates. The previously lifted lips of his fall at his title, as he has made it very clear to me that I am never to refer to him as "Master." Of course, that means I use it whenever I can, just to make him squirm.

"Either way, you will soon be my queen, whether or not I deserve you. You are mine, and mine alone," Thorin mumbles with his typical overprotectiveness, which I must admit, I have grown to love. Though the dwarf king is short in stature when compared to other kings, his territorial instincts have scared off a number of fiends in the past year. But then again, it might just be his stubbornness that scares them off.

"The question is whether I deserve you," I reply. His hand, once bound around my waist, comes to brushing my collarbones. Thorin's fingers trace the pale skin overlying the bones, brushing them in a way that sends tingles up my spine. Thorin has no idea what he does to me in times like these, but nonetheless, I don't stop his swooping hand.