Chapter 43:
Infatuation with underpants?
Sleeping in Thorin's arms for the first time in days awakens my sense of inner peace, previously lost to the dragon sickness. The worry festering in my heart wains at the hope of our future together. My bones fail to ache, as of the previous days, when Thorin's arms are wrapped about my tiny ribs in a loving embrace. The rise and fall of his chest plays a melody to the beat of my awakened heart. These are the moments that I live for.
And from that gentle sleep, I fall with the pressure of a wooden staff upon the small of my back. Mind me, it is not so much a gentle pressure on my skin, but a harsh smacking against my bones. A groan of pain and awakeness escapes my mouth, at the insistence of Gandalf's walking stick.
"Will you stop that?!" I shout at the wizard, rolling over in Thorin's arms to look up at the wizard. He smirks at me, like revenge, but continues to poke me. I growl at him, rolling from Thorin's arms and the furry bedding to stand upon my small feet. Gandalf continues to stare down upon me, though stops his pesky hitting.
"Do you have a death wish?" I ask him, as he knows that I am hostile in the first minutes of the morning. Don't get me wrong, I am very much a morning person, but the not-so-gentle waking up often sends me into a bad mood. Let's hope that changes with Thorin's consciousness.
"Not today. I thought I might inform you that the elves and Lakemen are here. You ought to get up," Gandalf replies. I nod my head, smile arising on my features, as my plan falls into place. I knew I could trust Bard with the request, and I expect that the elf king was all too happy to oblige.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," I respond. My hand gesturing to wake Thorin, Gandalf goes about whacking the dwarf king with his staff. I am surprised Thorin slept through my rude awakening, but his lack of sleep over the last few days explains it. Just as I did, Thorin groans and growls at the staff's meeting of his chest.
"You seem to have an infatuation with my undergarments," Gandalf remarks, for this is the second time I have mentioned them on this journey. I smirk at the idea and memories, while Thorin rolls to his feet at my side.
"No, she has an infatuation with mystery," Thorin casually responds, knowing me better than I know myself. I acknowledge the truth with a nod, as I have never come to that conclusion before. Nonetheless, it is beyond true.
"When did you get here?" Thorin asks the wizard, suddenly realizing his appearance. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as Gandalf chuckles, smile lines evident at the corners of his beard.
"Sundown of two days ago," Gandalf responds, taking heed to not tell Thorin of how he got here. It was decided by Gandalf and myself that I would save the truth of my journey until the council, and the fate of the Arkenstone till after the war. I'd rather have Thorin infuriated with me later, rather than during our final fight with the Pale Orc.
Thorin nods his head, knowing it's better to not question the wizard with formalities. The dwarf king turns to peer at me, pulling my chest into his in a morning greeting. His clear blue eyes shine with happiness and love as they meet my own stormy gray ones. A rare smile paints his features, and I can't help but press my lips to his own in a warming kiss. He kisses back with passion, though it is slow and full of love. Our lips meet one another in smiles, our hands locked around each other's bodies. Pulling away at the remembrance of the other armies outside these walls, I recognize Gandalf's absence and the awoken company. With their groans of pain, I realize that the wizard hit them with his staff as well, so I chuckle with glee. Thorin just looks upon my happiness with utter adoration.
"I must go change. I will meet you at the gate," Thorin replies to my sharing of the news and plans for a council of the races. It seems as though the sickness left a great dwarf in its wake, as Thorin seems more willing to help others and make peace. And despite its painful effects on this company, I thank the gold for giving me this new Thorin.
"Thank the Valar!" I shout to the grumpy dwarf company. A few of them laugh at my outburst, but the rest of them growl in annoyance. They are not morning people, as I have seen time and time again.
"What? You don't like these robes?" Thorin asks sarcastically, though I sense confusion in his tone. Looking over him, I grimace at the old, ornate sewing as well as the bulky jewels lying on his chest. With all this, it is easy to overlook the person wearing the apparel, and thus, I dislike its existence.
"Of course, I don't! They smell like your grandfather and, sorry to tell you, that's not a turn on," I reply with a grimace. Thorin laughs at my words, pulling me ever closer to his broad chest.
"So my old clothing is?" Thorin naturally questions once returning to a calmed state. I smile at the king with love in my eyes, as he has returned to his previously playful state that I adore.
"Yes! I clung to that furry jacket of yours for a reason," I respond with a cheeky smile. Another chuckle erupts in his chest before I press my lips to his in a chaste and loving kiss. It is short, but sweet, as we pull away and return to our preparations in opposite directions. As he changes from Thror's robes, I grab my dwarven weapons from the bedside and follow the company to the gate.
An astounding sight meets my eyes as I fall from the dark tunnels of Erebor and into the early morning light. Rows upon rows of elves stand at the ready, Thranduil leading them from his mighty moose. The elf king claims it's an elk, but we all know it's a moose. Elves are liars.
To the side of the vast reaching elvish ranks lies the remainder of the human males, readied for battle with their homemade weapons. It's a humbling picture, and I welcome their presence over that of the elves. My body returns to Gandalf's side near the right of the company as my siblings follow my lead. We look to be ready for war, but it is a formality when expressing our peaceful intentions.
My head is drawn from the shining rows of elks to the tunnel at my behind. Thick footsteps radiate from within the tunnel as Thorin finally appears in his old travel clothes. His blue tunic, black trousers, and thick boots remind me of our times in Rivendell. It is his jacket, however, that sends my heart fluttering, as it is the furry coat I alluded to minutes ago. I send him a wink at the clothing choice while he just smiles cheekily and grabs my hand. Falling to his side as we move to the head of the company, near the edge of the balcony, I feel comforted by his presence that scared me just a day before.
From where I stand, Bard looks upon me with confusion as we seem prepared for war, and yet, Thorin looks to be his previous self. Thranduil, on the other hand, just looks ready to launch himself into battle. Thorin smiles at the army's presence, though I know he questions their existence here. It is part of the plan that I have yet to reveal.
"Welcome," Thorin bellows across the valley, "King of the Elves and Lord of Men, to the mighty Kingdom of Erebor!" Bard visibly relaxes at the welcome, knowing Thorin will heed to their demands. Thranduil now bares the look of confusion, as he expected Thorin to still be crazy. The dwarf king turns to me, as it is my plan after all.
"From both Thorin and myself, we welcome you to our halls. Your people and your soldiers are welcome to reside within Erebor, as it will protect them in the following days. As for the leaders, we must council in the coming hours, as a greater threat lurks over our heads," I yell across the armies, sending all races into shock at my words. However, I do not know if this response derives from our welcoming of them to Erebor or the threats of war. Either way, they are all unsettled.
Thorin turns his head from looking over the ordered ranks to gazing upon me with evident confusion. I told him we need a council, yes, but gave him no reason as to why.
"Mind me, my lady, but I am confused. As of yesterday, Oakenshield was quick to rush into war, and yet, now you welcome us all into your vast halls. Why is that?" Bard shouts up to our balcony. This man is quickly growing on me, as he is both straight-forward and logical. We will be great friends once this is over.
"I was ill," Thorin cuts in to my motion to respond, "being eaten away by the dragon sickness. It would still fester in my heart, as of now, if Erudian had not driven it from me. She is to thank for the return of my sanity, and the motion I make for peace. I will not hurt you, and I wish for you to do the same." I gaze at Thorin with a newfound awe, as he seems more down-to-earth than ever before. Bard seems shocked at the response, but nods his head along the way, sending me a thankful look. Thranduil, however, looks uneasy at the idea.
"Come now, and feast within--" I begin before pausing at the rumbling of the earth far beneath our feet. Gazing around, everyone seems lost in confusion, excluding Thorin who just sighs. What did he do now?
Just as I go to ask the dwarf king this exact question, I notice the arrival of a dwarf army upon a nearby ridge. At its center, glittering in jewels and the nicest armor, sits Dain Ironfoot on a rather large pig. I groan at the arrival of my least-favorite person. And yes, I prefer Thranduil over Dain.
"Ironfoot," Gandalf sighs from my side. Evidently, we have the same opinion on the other dwarf lord. Let's just hope that Dain is in a good mood today, for we will not survive if he isn't.
Neither the Lakemen nor the elves make a move to face this new, incompetent threat, as both races seem ready to make peace with Erebor. Dain leads his troops farther down the ridge side, coming to a close near Thranduil and Bard who move to greet him.
"Who is that? He doesn't look very happy," Bilbo asks from my other side, grabbing my hand for comfort. I smile down at him as he looks scared upon the war-pigs and large dwarf leader.
"It is Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills--Thorin's cousin," Gandalf replies warily at how this will turn out. Thorin cringes at the name of his cousin, and supposed successor, gripping my hand with clenched fingers.
"Thorin, you are an idiot sometimes," I remark to him. He doesn't look my way, but nods in agreement. It would be a shocking moment, but it is obvious that inviting Dain was the dumbest thing Thorin's ever done.
"Are they alike?" Bilbo questions further. The dwarf king whips his head around in shock and horror at the mere idea of being like his cousin. Despite the timing, I laugh at Thorin's expression and Bilbo's sorry glance.
"I always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two," Gandalf remarks, which sets Thorin back into ease. I scoff at the wizard, laughing a bit under my breath.
"That's saying something," I add in, causing Thorin to elbow me in the ribs. I smile cheekily at him, before kissing his bearded cheek. A look of love crosses his face, replacing that of offense.
Dain, coming to rest near the elf and human armies, rides his hog onto a rocky outcropping with the intent to make himself look tall. I desperately yearn to tell him that it's a failing attempt, but keep my mouth shut for the sake of peace.
"Good morning! How are we all? I have a wee proposition if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider just sodding off!" Dain yells at the gathered leaders of man and elf. Despite the direct address, we all gape at the other dwarf king, and his tenacity to say such a thing. At the same time, I cringe away at where this is headed.
"All of you--right now!" he furthers with the waving of his hand.
"Dain!" Thorin yells from my side, attempting to gain his cousin's attention. Whether due to the thick head of the dwarf or the distance between us, Dain catches none of Thorin's words. Gandalf takes it upon himself to get Dain's attention.
"Come now, Lord Dain!" he yells across the plains lying to our south. Luckily, this time the dwarf hears us and turns to look upon the remainder of our company on the balcony. He ignores Thorin and my own pleading looks, to gaze upon the gray wizard.
"Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!" Dain replies characteristically. I think everyone cringes at those words, for none of us desire to have bloodshed unless necessary. That is, except Lord Dain.
"There is to be no war between dwarves, men, and elves. Stand your army down!" Gandalf commands. I nod my head rapidly in agreement with the wizard. Not going to lie, I have become desperate to keep this war from occurring.
"I will not stand down before any elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite," Dain haughtily replies, gesturing to the enraged Thranduil. I may have a deep dislike of the dwarf and unease toward the situation, but I cannot help laughing at his words. I must remember that nickname for the elf king.
"He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then," Ironfoot adds in. I have to appreciate his sense of loyalty towards his race, but the threats chill my blood. The suspense is killing me as I wait for either peace or war.
The dwarves about me shout for Dain's attention while Thranduil smiles vengefully. I can't help but join them as the dwarf and elf have a stare down upon the battlefield. Though it does little, as neither one notices our company.
"He's clearly mad, like his cousin!" Thranduil remarks, which freezes Thorin from his shouting. He glares at the elf-king with his usual hatred.
"I have recovered!" Thorin reminds him, though Thranduil heeds none of his words.
"You hear that lads?!" Dain asks, turning to his army. My heartbeat skyrockets at the growing tension and steps towards battle, so I can't help but hold a vice grip on Thorin's hand. He doesn't yell in pain, but grips my hand with equal pressure.
"Come on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!" Dain riles up his army. And just as I go to make my final plea for peace, Thorin releases my hand to stand upon the balcony.
"Dain!" he bellows across the valley, waving his arms frantically. Thankfully, the dwarf lord sees him this time, relaxing a bit from his fighting stance. Yet, I know this isn't over.
"Oh! Hello cousin!" Dain yells back with his bloodthirsty smile. Thorin just looks warily upon his inlaw, planning on how to calm Dain down.
"We have made peace with the elves and men. Now, come, we are meeting for council within the Mountain," Thorin yells back, trying to ease everyone away from violence. Dain looks surprised upon his sane cousin.
"But you said to prepare for battle! I even brought the hogs!" Dain yells back childishly. He acts as if he is a mere infant, whining for candy.
"We have greater enemies to face within the day! Quickly now, we must strategize," Thorin shouts back. Dain look reluctant to relent to such arrangements, but nods in agreement, nonetheless. I am suddenly very grateful for the small bit of sense present within each dwarf.
Thorin climbs down from his stony perch, grabbing my hand and moving to leave. But he stops suddenly as a thought crosses his mind. I instinctively know that he questions how to let the armies in when the gate is blocked by tons of stone, so I move from his grasp to meet my siblings.
The three of us jump over the railed side of the Mountain before shifting in our Phoenixes. I hear exclamations of awe and wonder at our change, but pay little mind as we go about burning the gate. Now, I am not an idiot, as I know you cannot burn down stone. However, fire weakens the cement bonds, making it easier to punch through.
And that's exactly what Beorn does, suddenly appearing from a nearby forest in his animal form. His body rams into the heated stone of Erebor, which cracks and breaks away under the single, powerful lunge. All four of us move away as the gate crumbles and dwarves scatter above. And just as soon as it crumbled, it stops, leaving the armies in silence as our quartet pants in physical exhaustion.
Shifting back to my dwarf form, I look to the awestruck elves, men, and dwarves. Moving silently and quickly over the rubble, I notice the lack of movement behind me. Turning back, thousands of eyes meet my own, causing me to blush scarlet.
"Aren't you coming?" I ask them, shouting a bit so they can hear me. After a lot of shrugs and nodding, the men, elves, and dwarves follow behind me as I enter into the cavities of Erebor. Everyone looks about in shock at the Mountain's grand features, as the leaders and company approach my side.
"Balin," I say as he looks towards me, "will you deal with sleeping arrangements?" He nods at me, whispering directions to Dwalin and Bofur in the process. Balin leads the elves to east wing while his brother leads the dwarves to the west wing. Bofur gestures for the men to follow him north, and farther into the Mountain. As the masses of soldiers leave and Alfrid returns to move the humans from Dale, silence falls over the fourier of Erebor.
"We will council in one hour, within the meeting room. Make yourselves comfortable and help your people as need be. Let me know if you need anything, and I'll be sure to help," I address the leaders with a smile. They all look at me, surprised at my hospitality in the given time. Nevertheless, they follow after their armies, leaving me and Thorin alone.
He pulls me, by my hand, into a deep kiss of potent love. One of my hands weaves into his newly braided hair as the other clings to the fur of his jacket. He smiles into the embrace, pulling me closer with his hand on my lower back while the other tugs at my blonde locks. Thorin's teeth bite my lower lip, giving his tongue access to my mouth as I tighten my hold, hand knotted in his midnight hair. Before it can go too far, and knowing we only have one hour to prepare, I relinquish my hold on my lips in exchange for a hug. Thorin is slow to relent, but relaxes into my embrace after a moment's time.
The sounds of the multiple races echo off the walls in the threshold of our returned kingdom. The united voices of men, elves, and dwarves, set my heart at ease as a hope for a greater family festers in my chest. I know this is the first step towards a greater time of peace, and I cannot help but relish the moment with the mixed sounds of the races, here within Thorin's arms. Love can do amazing things, and this is proof.
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Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the changed Thorin!
Last night, I was channel flipping when I came across a show with Aiden Turner in it...my dad was freaking out because he loves The Hobbit as much as I do. Anyway, I changed the channel quickly since the acting was horrendous (not Turner's, mind you).
Please vote and comment! Love you all!
xo
Patagonian
Thorin's smile in this gif>