A Willing Heart

Twenty Five (The Hunt) Part 2

CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT

I brought my arm to cover my face and turned away, wishing that this was all a dream, that maybe Mahal hadn't chosen this moment to claim me just yet. But who was I to tell Mahal when to take me, or anyone for that matter? For weren't we all destined to some kind of death, I thought. If not the boar, then me.

The sound of an axe cutting through the boar's tough hide filled the air. It squealled for a brief moment and became silent. Thorin reached towards me and tried to pull me up but the twisted roots held me fast by the ankle. He cursed in anger, grabbing his axe to cut through the offending roots but Dwalin held him back, and brought down his own twin axes, Grasper and Keeper, to slice through the roots, setting me free.

Thorin held me close for a few seconds, then pushed me away angrily. "You could have gotten yourself killed," he raged. "What were you thinking? Did you really think you could put down a charging boar with a few arrows?"

I was too stunned to do anything at first. But anger filled me. Anger and shame for what I had just done, the foolish belief that I could take down the beast by myself. Was it only to show to him that I could stand on my own out here in the wildlands, that I could do things he could do? But my shame was too great, and with it, my defiance.

"What do you want me to say? Yes, I did think I could take it down with my arrows," I yelled back, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I pulled myself away him, limped towards my bow on the ground and picked it up. I saw Dwalin open his mouth to say something as he pulled out my arrows one by one from the boar's flank but he did not say what he wanted to say. There was enough rage in the air between the three of us. Rage and fear.

Thorin followed close behind me as I walked away. "Frigga!"

At the top of the hill, other dwarves appeared and Thorin stopped calling me. They'd heard Thorin's shouts and had come to his aid. Instead, as I kept walking back towards the camp, I heard the dwarves discussing the many ways they could cook the boar for that evening's meal. It would be a feast, they said. None of them would know that I had almost died in my foolishness.

"Stop, Frigga," Thorin ordered, his voice softening, but I kept walking. I was too ashamed to face him and maybe Thorin knew how I was feeling for he stopped following me though I could hear him behind me, the sounds of his foot steps fading as he slowed his pace. When the camp came into view, he stopped following me altogether.

I must have looked a fright when Arna, Lady Mani and the boys saw me approach. Twigs and dead leaves clung to my hair and my clothes, and I knew that smelled of boar - and blood. I fought hard to stop my hand from shaking as I lied about having tripped and fallen while practicing with my bow.

"Where are Prince Thorin and Dwalin?" Arna asked.

"They killed a boar," I said. "They must be taking it back to the camp."

Just then the dwarves that had come to the hill appeared in the distance, cheering as they dragged the boar's carcass behind them. Thorin and Dwalin were walking behind them. Arna ordered Lady Mani to take the boys back to the camp as she guided me into the tent Thorin and I shared. Two women who had tended to my mother before she died followed us, and Arna ordered them to fetch some heated water.

Once inside the tent, Arna began to undress me, her hands rough at first before her touch turned gentle. I was covered with small cuts and bruises, most from when I rolled down the slope.

"I can undress myself," I said, pulling away from her as she began to undo the laces of my tunic.

"You stink of wild boar and we need to wash all your clothes - and you," she said as she continued to undress me, and I let her for I was too numb to do anything else but stand there. "Frigga, just because you can do things does not mean you should. Remember your place."

"But he agreed to take me along -"

"You are the wife of a prince. Just because the man Jürgen taught you to wield swords and shoot arrows does not mean you can continue to do that in this company, not when there are dwarf men who can do it, and do it better."

"But -"

"Listen to me, Frigga," Arna said angrily. "When you lived your life as Aleanna, or whatever name they gave you in the town of men, you were free to do whatever you wanted. But when you chose to live amongst your people again, and to be Prince Thorin's wife, you need to live according to what is expected of you - what is expected of a princess."

What happened next became a blur as my body began to tremble from head to toe. I was in shock, the realization that I could have been killed finally hitting me. Outside, I heard Thorin's voice but after hearing Arna say that she was with me, his voice faded as he left us alone. In my haze, Arna and the two women bathed me the way they must have bathed my mother so many times, even washing my hair clean of the twigs and the dead leaves that had clung to it, and plaiting the braids when it was dry. It must have taken hours, I thought, but with the three of them taking care of me, time only felt like it had stopped. There was no end to the basins of water they brought in, heated over the fire.

"I need to go out there and help," I mumbled as the two women finally left Arna and I alone.

"You are in no state to go out there, child," she said. "Despite your foolishness, you try so hard to be brave, but I know you so well. You have your mother's eyes and whenever she was scared, she had the same look you have now."

I could smell the scent of pine in the air. Then I realized that it was me, from whatever Arna had placed in the water and the soap she had used on me. I was sitting on the pelts now, my feet bare and only wearing the thin chemise that Arna had slipped on me. The only other clothes I could wear was the forest green dress I had worn the night I married Thorin. But I was too exhausted to move.

"I thought I was going to die," I whispered. "The boar - it took a while to die."

"Promise me you not will do anything so foolish again."

"I promise," I said, nodding. "Is Thorin still angry with me?"

"Not for long. I think he suspects you were only trying to prove yourself to him," Arna replied. "Stay here and I will bring you some food."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you're not. But stay here anyway."

I lay down on the pelts, suddenly feeling so tired. Arna's ritual of bathing was hypnotic, and as I yawned, she stroked my hair before leaving the tent. Outside, as darkness settled across the Rhovannion, dwarves begun to play music and sing songs. They were probably gathered around the fire, I thought, listening to stories or singing their songs of old.

As I waited for Arna to return, I imagined Thorin standing among them, singing with them the songs of his forefathers, songs that told of the grandeur of the halls of Erebor and even of the Grey Mountains. And as I yawned again, I could see his face illuminated by the firelight, his blue eyes lulling me further into my dreams, till sleep finally claimed me.

And I slept like the sleep of the dead.

~~~

As he did every night, Thorin came into the tent and joined me on the pelts. But unlike every night, he greeted me with soft kisses on my lips, my neck and even between my breasts, his big hands bringing my chemise up and over my head to bare me before him. He smelled of fresh mountain spring and soap, as if he'd braved the cold stream to rid himself of the smell of the hunt.

It was like a dream though I knew it wasn't. Outside I could hear music playing, and dwarves still singing. When I asked him if he would rather be with his people instead of here with me, Thorin silenced me with a kiss so tender, it made me ache to hold him in my arms.

And as I did, I felt the broad muscles of his back tighten. Thorin felt so warm and so strong. His lips never left me as he made love to me. I could have thought of other things, like the health of his father and grandfather, but in the end such worries didn't matter as Thorin's lips and tongue savored every part of me, making me cry out for him as he suckled on my nipple, his other hand kneading my breast.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulder. "I didn't mean to do what I did."

Thorin lifted his head to look at me, the dim light of the fires outside casting shadows upon his face. "I am your prince, am I not?"

"You're my king. You're my world." I drew his head towards me but Thorin resisted, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at me.

"Will you not question my authority ever again after this?"

"Never again," I replied as he kissed my mouth again, capturing my lower lip between his teeth and sucking it passionately. For some time he is imply kissed me, tasting me just as I tasted him, sucking on his tongue as I felt him growl against me. When his mouth finally left my lips to kiss the space behind my neck, I gasped, his beard tickling me along my breast, his hands possessively gripping me by the waist.

"Someone will hear us," I whispered.

"Let them," he said as his lips traveled along my sides, sighs escaping my lips as he descended even lower towards my belly. "I want to make love to my wife any way I want to, the gods be damned."

When he kissed me in my most intimate of places, I moaned and writhed beneath his ministrations, his fingers interlaced with my own along my sides.  He held me captive as he took his time, till my body shook, my cries muffled against the pelts.  

When his mouth found my lips again, I realized that it had been too long.  How long had it been since he'd made love to me like this? Too long, oh Mahal, it had been too long.

Two weeks journeying down the Rhovannion, stopping at two towns where Thorin devoted days of working for hardly anything for the men were not willing to pay a dwarf fair wages. They knew he was a prince and wanted him to feel the lack of a kingdom. But it did not matter to Thorin then. He had to swallow his pride and take the work, returning to me each night with a look that told me more than he was willing to reveal in words. It was a look that told me not to ask questions, to hold him and let him hold me till sleep claimed him.

No, it had been too long for tenderness and passion such as this. I captured his tongue between my teeth and sucked on it, and this time it was Thorin's turn to moan, his hips grinding against mine in response.

"You are my king," I whispered in his ear.

I grabbed hold of his head with my hands, my fingers twining through his hair as my legs wrapped around his hips, my heels digging against the back of his thighs. I wanted Thorin to claim what was his as much as I wanted what was mine. 

"And you're mine," he whispered, his eyes studying me in the darkness, two emerald pinpricks in the light of the moon that reflected through our tent.

We made wild, mad love, not caring who heard us for it had been too long since we'd let go like this. Through it all, the feasting outside by the great big fire continued on, oblivious of our absence and ignorant of our bliss. Thorin pulled the rest of the pelts over us and drew me against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me like he always did each night, one arm under my neck and the other over me.

There was nothing more to prove to him for I loved him and needed him as much as he loved me. And I'd been too blind to see it. But not anymore.

In the wildlands, nothing was safe. Nothing was secure. Except this. For this - this moment in Thorin's arms, and my new life with him - was my haven.  For as long as I lived.