He was cold, tired, and every muscle ached. The ride to Dale had been long and wet, the ride back, worse. He'd only been gone six days, but it felt like a hundred years. It was nearing midnight when his ponies finally took the last few steps from the cliff path onto the grassy ridge. She was not expecting him home until tomorrow at the earliest, but the moon was just past full, and Mardie and Pepper knew the trail well. There was no light glowing in the house's windows, and Thorin wrinkled his brow, thinking it odd that Esja would have let the fire go out. He slid off Mardie and pushed open the stable doors, leading the ponies in. It was warmer in here, and he quickly lit a lantern, unsaddled the ponies, and stabled them. He brushed them both and fed and watered them. It took him another half hour to work the mud from the tired ponies' hooves and legs. When he was satisfied they would rest comfortably, he patted them, thanked them for their hard work, and headed for the house.
As he brushed his fingers across the trailing vines of Jessamine carved into the door, he came immediately to his guard. Pulling his sword from his scabbard as the door swung silently inward at his merest touch. Pushing back the instinct to call to her, he stepped into the house. The fire had gone cold and black and Esja's rocking chair laid on its side nearby. Thorin moved silently to his bedroom doorway and saw their bed, unmade and empty. Esja's chest was pulled from under the bed, and its treasures strewn about the room. Thorin swallowed and turned back, heading for the smaller bedroom. As he passed the kitchen, he noted broken crockery and dirty, abandoned dishes on the table. His hand slipped on his sword, and he tightened his grip as he pushed the door softly open. It caught on the edge of a rumpled rug, and Thorin cautiously pushed it further open. His eyes swept the room.
"Esja!" he whispered urgently.
She was on her knees, on the floor, her head and one arm resting on the edge of the small bed she knelt by—her hand resting on the back of his young daughter, a larger lump under her protective arm. A familiar fur blanket draped half over them. She made no move at his voice, and he lifted a suddenly shaking hand to her cheek. She was warm. He felt weak and dropped to sit beside her on the floor, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. A tiny sound brought his head back up, and he looked around. Reaching over, he realized the second lump on the bed was merely an empty pile of a blanket. Another soft gurgle came from behind the door.
"Fi?" he said softly.
The sound of desperate movement came from behind the door, and shortly a little face appeared around the edge of the door. A chubby hand dropped a wooden spoon with an excited squeak. Thorin barely had time to set aside his sword before the tiny dwarvish lass had tumbled into his lap, wrapped chubby fingers in his beard, chortling "Babababaabab." and covering his mouth and cheek in kisses. He pulled the little girl close, kissing her hair.
"Fi, what have you done to my wife? Hmm? She's fallen asleep on the floor in a house that looks like it's been ransacked by the goblin king himself," he whispered to his daughter.
The little girl listened to him with rapt attention, her blue eyes never leaving his.
"Mamammamm," she jabbered and pulled his leather glove from his belt to chew on.
He scooped the little girl close and rubbed his beard against her neck, making her squirm and giggle. He stood and looked around, not quite sure what to do. He walked back out to the front room, with Faelyn in the crook of his elbow. He hung up his sword and set her down as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it as well. He turned at a thump behind him and just barely grabbed the tiny girl before she pulled a tray of dirty dishes off the table.
"No you don't, little one!" he said, setting up the rocking chair and setting her in it. He went back to get her blanket from her room, and by the time he had returned, she was nowhere in sight.
"Fi?"
He heard a little squeal of glee and rushed out the front door, catching her before she stepped off the freezing flagstones. He picked her up and smacked her well-padded bottom lowering his eyebrows at her. She scrunched up her nose and eyes, copying him, and pulled his beard, laughing again as he carried her back into the house. He found a cracker for her to chew on while he started the fire, allowing her to hand him the next stick to go in. He gave her a drink, changed her nappy, wrapped her tightly in her favorite blanket, and sat down to rock her in front of the fire, humming quietly. She fussed until she heard him hum, then she snuggled her cheek to his chest and was asleep in moments.
He carried her back into her room and, moving Esja's hand, tucked her in next to her sister. He looked down at his wife. Her hair was tangled, her feet bare, and he thought for a moment that she was wearing the same dress as when he had left but then thought that surely could not be right. He bent down and picked her up, blanket and all, and carried her to their bed. He laid her down, covering her, and she didn't move a muscle. He kissed her lips softly, as much to reassure himself she was still living as it was because he had missed her.
He walked back to the girls' room, straightened the rug, and picked up the rag dolls off the floor. He kissed Kelylah's downy head and tucked her in more snugly. Walking back to the front room, he went over and looked at the front door. Esja had asked him to repair the loose latch before he left. He had forgotten. He walked back to the stable in the moonlight to get his tools.
***
Esja stretched and snuggled deeper into her blanket, listening for sounds from the girl's room. She sat up and looked around, making a mental list of everything she wanted to get done before Thorin got back from Dale today. She scratched at her scalp and pushed her lank hair away from her face.
"How about we put bath somewhere around the top of the list?" she suggested to herself. She felt surprisingly well-rested this morning and looked out the window, dark clouds were blowing in, and a storm was on the wind.
"Please hurry home," she whispered at the window.
Turning, she pulled off the dress she had worn for almost a week and wrapped a clean robe around herself, tying the strings at the waist. She stepped into the front room and was stopped dead in her tracks.
The house was spotless. Dishes washed and put away; floor swept, carpet brushed and straightened, a fresh jug of milk on the table, and the copper bathtub set out. Two large buckets of water sat near the fire, one already boiling. Esja clutched the neck of her robe and looked around, edging towards the girls' room.
"They aren't in there."
Esja whirled back at his voice.
"You're back early," she said, sounding a little breathless.
"I am."
"Did you..?"
"Don't ask. It's a long, long story, and we have till dinnertime."
"...have till dinnertime?"
"I've just dropped those two off with Nordren and Ellie. They're bringing them back for dinner. Possibly baked in a pie."
"Baked?"
"Come take your bath, Esja."
"It's not for you?"
"No, I've had two already today, the one I planned and the one I ended up sharing with the girls. If the ceiling starts growing stalagmites, it will be because of bath time."
"How long have you been here?"
He sighs, "I got in late last night. Come."
He holds his hand out to her, but she shakes her head a little, "I don't need help; you must be exhausted. Why didn't you just come to bed?"
"I fixed the door."
Esja sighed and looked at the securely latched door, "And cleaned the dishes, and started the fire, and swept the floor and bathed the girls and took them to town?" she noted, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. He takes a step toward her, surprised when she steps back.
"Esja?"
"I can at least bathe myself."
He does not drop his hand or move away, "I know you can," he says.
Esja starts to turn away from him, but he steps and catches her arm, wrapping her tightly against him.
"Thorin, don't. I need a bath."
She feels his hands at the ties of her robe and tries to push them away but quickly finds herself sitting naked in the tub as he pours warm water over her head. He quickly soaps and rinses her hair, then offers to help with more, from under half-lowered lashes. Ejsa washes quickly and as she steps out, reaching for a drying cloth. Thorin grabs it and dries her. He leads her back to the bedroom. Esja climbs under the fur and watches him undress. Surprised by how tired she suddenly feels, she lies still, wondering why she isn't even tempted. Thorin climbs wearily into bed and lays quietly. When Esja makes no move to come closer, he turns on his side and pulls her over beside him.
"You must be exhausted," she whispers, snuggling her face to his chest.
He kisses her forehead, his hand squeezing her waist, sliding across her soft skin.
"What happened while I was gone?"
Esja takes a shuddering breath and whispers, "Nothing."
He knows she is crying, but he doesn't know why. "Esja?" he says.
"It's t-true! Nothing happened! No goblin attack, no lurking evil, no dragon to defeat, no army to face! Nothing! It was just the girls and me, and I couldn't even keep the dishes washed."
He tightened his hold on her shaking shoulders, pressing his mouth to her damp hair as she cried. After a few minutes, she relaxed against him a little, her stream of tears turned to little gasping breaths, then she quieted, and he felt her lips move on his skin. She moved to sit up, but he tightened his arms around her.
"I'm alright now," she whispered into his beard, "let me look at you."
He loosened his hold and watched as his wife sat up. He wiped her tear-stained cheek with a careful hand.
"Stop," she said, climbing out of bed and washing her face with a soft towel and cold water. He shifted slowly to his back, stretching out his legs, sore and tired from the long ride. The mattress shifted as she climbed back into bed, kneeling next to him. He lifted a hand to the soft curve of her breast, but she caught his fingers and pushed his arm back down beside her.
"You must have ridden non-stop yesterday," she said as she uncorked a bottle of oil and poured it into her hands, warming it.
He smiled, "I missed my girls," he said.
Esja shook her head a little, and he just caught a glimpse of her smile as she pushed the blanket away and moved her oiled hands firmly over his right thigh, then his left. He closed his mouth to keep from groaning in relief as she worked the tight muscles, slowly moving down to his calves and finally his feet. She worked silently, enjoying touching him, having him back with her. She noted the way his body relaxed and his eyes closed, his breathing slowing.
"You shouldn't think it's nothing," he said, his voice causing her to jump a little.
"I thought you were asleep!"
He smiled and held out a hand to her, watching her rub the last bit of oil from her hands onto her own legs and then crawl up to him, pulling the blanket over both of them. She traces a sensual pattern on his stomach, and he lets her hand wander slowly over him, mapping old scars, comforting herself with his familiarity. "What shouldn't I think is nothing?" she finally asked.
"Everything you do."
"Thorin,"
"Faelyn and Kelylah are merciless. It's amazing to me you let them continue to breathe. Someday I'll tell them how lucky they are that their mother allowed them to grow to adulthood. I'll tell them about a young girl brought to a city to marry a boy she'd never met. I'll tell them how she traversed the Greenwood alone, and years later, ambushed an entire company of dwarves in an attempt to stop them from facing a dragon."
"Quit!" Esja demanded, laughing.
"I'll tell them she could have been the queen of the dwarves, but instead, she settled for me, a blacksmith. For a small house in a small village. For two small, but diabolical, daughters."
Esja laughed again and squeezed closer to him.
"Then I'll tell them how the responsibilities of even the greatest king of the dwarves pale in comparison to the work that a mother or father does every day of their life."
"Please stop!" Esja giggles, "The 'greatest king of the..."
Thorin cuts off the sentence with a hard kiss, "Now we battle every day, but with no armor to prevent our little opponents from injuring us, exhausted from the constant fight and without the grateful tears and thankfulness of more common people. I fed them breakfast, bathed them, and walked them to town, all by myself. And when I dropped them off with Ellie, it was the exact same feeling of tired exultation that I felt when I opened the secret door."
"Oh, for pity's sake....let go of me," Esja laughed, trying to free herself. He held her tighter, laughing a little himself.
"It isn't nothing, just because we do it every day." Esja stills and looks up, meeting his eyes, stretching to kiss his mouth. He smiles, and she snuggles back down against his shoulder, one hand reaching to tangle in his beard. It is less than a minute before she feels his hand go slack at her shoulder, and she wraps her arm across his chest. His breathing deepening.
"I love you, too," she whispers against his skin.