Saving Durin {Hobbit/Thorin}

Chapter 52: Knees high!

Part 4

Chapter 52:

Knees high!

The night is settled with the end of our game, and the promise of a wedding within the month. Though my heart flutters with fear in my chest, a smile reaches across my face as my hand lays within Thorin's palm. We leave the gathered company of sleepy dwarves, man, hobbit, wizard, and elves, Thorin pulling us back to our room near the center of Erebor's vast cavities. Our escape does not go unnoticed by the group, as Kili makes a plentitude of cheeky comments at our disappearing backs. It's all I can do to not break into laughter, as Kili's words are funny, none the mind, inappropriate.

Upon arriving at the well-known room of King Thorin, I change into my pajamas, consisting of a long tunic of warm fabric, before crawling into the large bed of pillows and blankets. As I have found, the caverns within the Mountain are cold with the weather outside, permeating the frozen soils and Marble inlays. And thus, blankets and coats are often needed, even during the day. Thorin soon joins my side in bead, pulling me into his chest where I rest my head. I can hear the heightened fluttering of his heart, and see the smile on his face in my peripheral vision.

"It's tradition in dwarven courting that the male and female are separated at night," Thorin mumbles with hesitancy. I am not surprised at this rule, for dwarves seem to have traditions governing all aspects of their life: you cannot use the restroom before midday, vegetables must be consumed in advance of meats, etc. Honestly, I would not be surprised if they had rules governing how to use silverware.

"That's not happening," I respond to Thorin with a flat voice, prompting him to sigh in what seems like relief. His previously accelerated heart rate calms beneath my ear, it's sound like a melody to my falling eyelids.

"Glad we're on the same page," Thorin remarks with a grin that I peek up to see. I smile at him, relieved at his agreement, as I have not slept alone since the night of our arrival in Rivendell, a whole year ago. My sleep has become reliant upon the dwarf king's arms wrapped about my waist and heart within my ear. A month without his presence at night would be a month without a blink of sleep.

"We'll need to begin planning tomorrow, sending out invites and hiring restoration crews. I think it best if we do the coronation in conjunction with the wedding," Thorin remarks. All I do is nod my head in agreement, feeling too tired to respond in words. The dwarf king senses this, pulling me closer into his chest and leaning down to leave a kiss on my forehead. "Goodnight, my queen."

I mumble something in response, sleep already taking hold of my consciousness with the power of deep exhaustion.

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The next morning is as busy as the previous, waking up in a conscious Thorin's arms before charging into preparation for the day. It is practically Thorin's first full day as King, having a list of "to do" items awaiting his opinion and Balin knocking incessantly at the door. The wedding is just one preparation in the long list of kingly duties, and in Thorin's mind, my duties as well.

So, within minutes of returning from my dreamless sleep, I am swept off my feet and into the day. An old tunic of Thorin's rests upon my chest, once again, and my ripped trousers find their way onto my legs. Hair having been unruly, it's braided into two long strands by Thorin. His hair is thrown back into a ponytail of sorts, a blue tunic of usual wear, clean upon his chest.