Listen, I know I suck at five sentence fics, we’ve already established that, right? I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me and my pathetic five-sentence attempts until the end of this month. Here, have another one.
Today’s fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info) focuses on Thorin and Dwalin. I’ve always wanted to explore this relationship in various ways and this is a very quick study that involves one of my ideas.
Today’s prompt: setting: genderbend world
Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: fem!Thorin x fem!Dwalin Rating:M Warnings: Guess what. Angst. Surpriiiise!
Listen, I know I suck at five sentence fics, we’ve already established that, right? I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me and my pathetic five-sentence attempts until the end of this month. Here, have another one.
Today’s fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info) focuses on Thorin and Dwalin. I’ve always wanted to explore this relationship in various ways and this is a very quick study that involves one of my ideas.
Today’s prompt: setting: genderbend world
Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: fem!Thorin x fem!Dwalin Rating:M Warnings: Guess what. Angst. Surpriiiise!
As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.
* * *
Always Together
Always together they were, Thorna and Dwala, inseparable childhood friends, sisters in arms, confidantes; where one went, the other one followed: through happiness and hardships; through the loss of their homeland, wandering through wilderness, through sickness and peril; through the horrors of the war with Orcs, through the bitter victory; through the deaths of Thorna’s sister, young Frera, her grandmother, Queen Thora, Dwala’s mother Fundina and many others at the battle of Azanulbizar.
Always together they were, and together they found their way to each other on the night after that battle, when none of them wanted to wet their pillows with their tears in the lonely darkness of their tents; Thorna welcomed Dwala into her arms, and Dwala welcomed Thorna’s braid in her hair; no words were needed that night, there were only tender kisses, sweet like forest berries, sighs soft like spring wind at dawn, gentle caresses falling on their skin like rose petals as they soared together on the wings of love and passion.
Always together they were, but it was forbidden for a Dwarf-woman to lay with another Dwarf-woman, their duties being excellence in their craft or bearing children to their husbands; and so they never spoke about that one night again, that night when great despair intermingled with great happiness, never exchanging another kiss nor tender cares, even if their hearts always beat in unison.
Always together they were, as they worked hand in hand, building a new home for their people when Thorna became the Queen of Longbeards, and Dwala - the captain of her Guard, and none of them ever took a husband; together they set off to reclaim Erebor; together they fought, and together, at last, they entered their Mountain.
Hello, my wonderful readers! Remember me? I’m (sort of) back! I’ve been trying to fight a writer’s block and since the Valentine’s Day is coming soon, let me treat you to a love story straight from the Middle Earth.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Rating: T (E later on) Author’s notes: This is the story of Thorin Oakenshield’s quest to find the White Raven, a mysterious creature of legends only few were fortunate enough to see. This is the story of love stronger than time, destiny, and laws of gods and mortals alike.
You can find this fic on AO3.
Special thanks to@legolasbadass for all your help and discussions and @linasofia for your unwavering support. Love you guys! (Feel free to check their stories here and on AO3, these two are really talented, you won’t regret it!)
Khuzdul: Kaminzabdûna - Yavanna Kheled-zâram - the lake of Mirrormere
“Uncle?” A chubby dwarfling crawled up on Thorin’s lap, joining his little brother.
“What is it, Fili?” Thorin ruffled the boy’s wheat-colored hair, careful not to wake up Kili who snored quietly against his tunic.
“Is the White Raven only a legend?”
This innocent question made the king in exile freeze for a heartbeat.
“Why are you asking?” He made his voice sound casual. Lighthearted.
Fili looked around and whispered, “I saw a white raven today when I went out with Amad.”
“Have you?” Thorin lowered his voice. Perhaps it simply was a child’s imagination. Fili was an inventive lad after all.
“It sat on a branch on that big oak on the way to the market, but when I went to see it up close, it just flew off!” The boy gesticulated lively. “Are you certain that it was a raven?”
“I’m not a little pebble like Kili, Uncle! I know a raven when I see one!” Fili protested. “It just looked weird, because it had white feathers.” His little brother sighed in his sleep and shifted, making Thorin wrap his arm around him tighter as he pondered Fili’s words. Was it truly possible after so many years?
“You were lucky then,” Thorin spoke carefully, “There are many stories about the White Raven and all of them say that it shows itself only to a few.”
“Stories? Please, Uncle, I want to hear all about the White Raven!” Fili pulled on his sleeve.
“White Waven!” Exclaimed Kili, suddenly awake.
“Very well,” Thorin said, unable to stifle a smile at their enthusiasm. This was the topic he himself had been passionate about and researched through the years. Even though his findings had not brought him any closer to the truth he craved, there was an urge inside him to speak of it, as if this simple act could make it more substantial. More real.
Thorin’s gaze travelled towards the flames dancing in the hearth as he chose his words with care.
Forest Gold is a story prompted by @tacosockos’s ask. Thank you very much! I hope you’ll like the story as much as I did when I was writing it!
Relationships:Thorin x Reader
Rating:T
Warnings:none
* * *
Forest Gold
The warm sun shone through the canopy of tall pine trees, its rays illuminating the path before you. It was a summer morning, just after dawn, and you were walking through the forest at the foot of the Lonely Mountain. Looking around, you admired its natural ancient beauty, the softness of the moss beneath your feet, and enjoyed every breath of the cool, fresh air. Since you arrived in Middle Earth on a stormy night several months ago in mysterious circumstances, you still marveled at how unspoiled the nature in Rhovanion was. No pollution, no empty beer cans in the forests, no cigarette butts, no engine noises. Instead, there were crystal-clear rivers and lakes, plenty of animals everywhere you looked and the lush greenery. Never before have you seen so many shades of green. The newly sprouted blades of grass, the majestic ferns by a creek in the backwoods or the reeds growing by the Long Lake near the city of Esgaroth that was being slowly rebuilt.
Your path led you to a bank of a forest stream. You smiled widely, seeing a glimpse of gold among the grass. There they were! You looked around. Yes, this was a perfect spot for what you had in mind. You rested your travelling gear against the trunk of a nearby tree and approached the patch of wildflowers growing in the watery ground at the edge of the stream, their yellow, almost golden petals seemingly shining with the light of their own. The people of Dale called them “kingcups” and used this plant for medicinal purposes. That is why you came here, at least partially. You promised a local healer to bring her some of these plants. But you had also another idea on your mind.
It took you a while to gather enough flowers to fill your basket. Your boots were a bit soaked, but it was worth it. Your eyes quickly found a patch of grass and your hands started picking out the flower heads and arranging them in a spiral shape on the ground. This was something you used to do with your grandmother in her garden. She’d often say these flower mandalas would draw fairies to them, and if you ever were to meet one, this magical creature would fulfill your wish. You have grown out from believing in fairies years ago, but your habit stayed with you, fueling your creativity. Back home, you’d sometimes make a picture of the finished mandala and upload it to your Instagram, sharing your art with the wide world. You didn’t need much to create art. Nature provided everything you needed.
Humming a half-forgotten song from your childhood as you finished arranging the flowers, you suddenly heard a sound of a snapping branch. Someone was coming. As quickly as you could, you gathered your things and hid in the nearby bushes. The local people warned you against strangers in these parts. After the great Battle of Five Armies that happened over a year ago, a constant stream of travelers flowed into Rhovanion. Those newcomers were searching for better life, but there were brigands among them, too.
Someone entered the clearing in a few long strides. He wasn’t tall, but his posture emanated power and strength. Dark, wavy mane of hair cascaded down his wide shoulders. His bearded face was focused on the surroundings. Judging from the clothes and the bow he held in his hands, he had to be a hunter. And… a dwarf. This was the first dwarf you saw from such a close distance. You heard much about these proud people and their great kingdom of Erebor that was currently being rebuilt, but you had never even talked with one before.
The dwarven hunter took a few steps towards your hideout. A pair of deep-set eyes scanned the area. You held your breath and crouched lower among the bushes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you. As he turned to his left, his gaze fell on your golden flower mandala. After approaching it, he studied it carefully and then took one of the flowers, bringing it to his nose. As he did so, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You blinked in disbelief. Weren’t the dwarves supposed to be underground folk, loving only stone, metals and precious gems? The last thing you expected today was to see a dwarf enjoying the smell of a delicate forest flower. A flower you arranged yourself.
“Hey! Leave my flowers alone!” you heard your own voice.
In a blink of an eye, he turned to you, his bow aimed at you. Or rather, at your hideout. You muttered a curse. Brilliant, just brilliant.
“Reveal yourself!” You heard his deep voice. So that was how a dwarf sounded like. You had to admit to yourself that hearing him speak made you think of molten dark chocolate, rich and full-flavoured.
You decided not to make a move. The last thing you wanted to do was to be shot by his arrow. It looked kinda… sharp. And something told you that this hunter had a good aim. A sigh escaped your lips. You just had to stay still. Maybe he’d leave you in peace. Maybe. Yeah, right.
“I mean you no harm. You can come out now. I have already put my bow away,” his words reached you. The way he spoke made you think of a horse whisperer trying to calm down a startled steed.
Feeling the taste of defeat in your mouth, you reluctantly came out from your hideout.
“I thought you were a bandit, Master Dwarf,” you admitted. Now, when you had the chance to take a better look at him, you could clearly see that he didn’t look like a brigand at all. His weapons and clothes were of good quality, and he wore several rings on his strong hands. Those rings definitely weren’t trinkets bought at a village fair. The dwarf looked more like a proud, ancient warrior than anything else.
“There are no bandits in the forests of the Lonely Mountain, my lady,” he shook his head. You heard the jingling of the silver beads in his hair, sunrays dancing among them. A peculiar thought appeared in your mind. What would be like to run your hand through this rich mane of hair? It looked so soft… Would he let you make a braid? Just like the ones that hung from his temples, falling all the way to his chest. You felt your cheeks burning up. What on earth made you think of such things about an unknown dwarf you’ve just met?
“I’m not a lady,” you stated. You’ve never been called a lady before, and especially not by a courteous dwarf.
“Who are you then?” his brilliant blue eyes set on your face. “A forest fairy protecting her magic circle?”
The dwarf pointed at your flower mandala.
You chuckled, “There’s nothing magical about my flower art. It’s meant to be looked at and enjoyed.”
“Are you sure?” he tilted his head and took a step towards you. Your eyes moved upwards, sliding along the intricate embroideries on his tunic hugging against the deep contours of his chest. The garment revealed a small patch of tanned skin at his throat, emphasizing his muscular neck. His strongly defined jaw was covered with a lush beard that hid a surprisingly soft line of his lips. The patrician nose set above it made you think of the gigantic dwarven sculptures that guarded the entrance to the kingdom of Erebor. And then there were his eyes, those twin mysterious cerulean pools that kept on searching your face. “There is an old legend among my people about the forests of the Lonely Mountain. They say that you can sometimes find a flower fairy ring here. If the time is right, its magic will take you wherever your heart longs to go.”
“It is a beautiful legend, but that’s all there is to it. An old tale,” you replied. Even a baby knew that there was no such thing as magic. And no, the way you arrived to this new, wonderous world had nothing to do with magic whatsoever. You were sure that science could explain it well. Perhaps a lightning struck too close to you that night, and there was a shift in the magnetic fields, and this was simply a parallel universe or…
A chuckle brought you back to reality.
“As you wish, my lady. Forgive me my manners, this unexpected meeting made me forget them completely,” he made a courteous bow. “My name is Thorin. May I ask how I should address you?”
You gulped. Your name was too unusual and too modern for this place. If the dwarf heard it, it would happen just like it did in Esgaroth and several other places. The locals weren’t fond of weird strangers. There would be strange looks, prying questions and tons of suspicion. Somehow, you didn’t want the majestic dwarf in front of you to look at you the way they did. You had to think of something.
“My name… Wait, did you say Thorin? As in Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain?!” even you, a newcomer to Middle Earth, heard about the dwarven king who led a bold charge against the Orc and Warg armies and defeated them, taking the life of their leader, Azog.
“These are just titles. Here, today, in the forest, I’m just Thorin, my lady without a name,” he smiled, but you could see a shadow passing his eyes, fleeting and deep.
Your mind barely registered his gaze, busy processing the current situation. You, a girl from far, far away, were standing in the presence of a real king! And a dwarf! What were you supposed to do? Bow? Curtsy? Call him “your majesty”? Or was it “your highness”? No, he said he was “just Thorin”. Pheew. But were you allowed to sit down in his presence? Or speak without being asked to? Oh, wait, he asked you a question and you haven’t answered it yet!
“I come from a faraway land. My name may sound alien to you and… and difficult to pronounce!” you blurted out.
“Would you allow me to call you Kingcup, my lady? Like these golden flowers?” his eyes traveled to the mandala you created on the ground.
“Kingcup…” you whispered to yourself, looking at the flower petals glistening in the sun.
“These flowers… We call them ‘forest gold’. Small and delicate, but sturdy. They run through the woods like veins of gold through the stone. And their reflections in water make forest streams look like molten gold,” his voice washed over you like smoothest silk.
“I think I can live with a name like that,” you smiled shyly at him.
“You do me a great honor, lady Kingcup,” his voice deepened, rumbling in his chest.
“I told you, king Thorin, I’m not a lady.”
“If you are not a lady then I am not a king,” he stated, responding to your smile with an amused glint in his eye.
“Sounds fair to me… Thorin,” you whispered his name, barely able to look into his eyes, hoping he would not mind your casual way of speaking to the king of the famous dwarven kingdom. He nodded in return.
“Since we are properly introduced now, may I invite you for breakfast? I must admit I haven’t eaten today yet and my friend Bombur, a brilliant cook, prepared some delicious scones with cheese for the road. I will gladly share them with you.”
The thought of a meal made your stomach rumble and you agreed almost instantly. The breakfast turned into a brunch when you discovered that you both were well equipped with delicious food. While you ate, you talked about everything and nothing; you were curious about Erebor, and Thorin asked about your recent travels through Rhovanion. You even shared a few amusing anecdotes from your lives and you quickly forgot you were spending time in the company of a king. To be honest, it felt as if you’d known each other for ages, sharing several interests, including the love of nature, both above and below ground.
“So you say that the dwarves think gold is the most precious metal?” you swallowed the last bite of smoked cheese.
“A metal worthy of kings,” Thorin nodded, taking a sip from his water bag.
“What about forest gold?” you gestured towards the flowers in your basket, the ones that you gathered in the morning.
“It is the most precious part of the forest… Kingcup…” his glittering blue eyes traveled to your face and you had to look away. Did he mean the flowers…. Or…?
“Close your eyes, please,” you said suddenly, a new and crazy idea popping in your head.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you close your eyes, I’ll show you the treasure of the forest,” you grinned mischievously. “It will just take a moment. Please?”
Apparently Thorin couldn’t say no to the pleading look on your face and capitulated. You reached towards the basket and soon your hands were working swiftly, binding the flowers together.
“Can I look now?” he asked, his back resting against the tree behind him.
“Patience,” you giggled. Your new “work of art” was ready. You moved towards Thorin and placed the golden flower crown on his temple. Your hand brushed against his hair. It was pleasantly soft under your touch. As you took a breath, a smell of pine needles, bonfire smoke and leather surrounded you. You expected a mighty king to smell like precious oils and heavy, exotic flower essences. Instead, his scent was simple, raw, and manly, and quickly went to your head. Looking at his calm features, all the worries gone from his handsome face, you almost missed the moment when he opened his eyes. You were kneeling next to him, your hands resting at his temples along with the flower crown. His face was surprisingly close to yours. You felt the warmth of his body and could almost brush your nose against his. Uh-oh. You swallowed. He blinked.
“What do we have here?” he cast a half-lidded glance at you and moved his hands to his head.
“Something worthy of a king. The golden crown of the forest,” you chuckled, recalling your idea, and desperately trying to forget the way his skin brushed against yours as he reached for the flower crown, and the pleasant sensation you felt. “No, no, don’t take it off! Come with me!”
You got up and quickly marched to the edge of the stream. Thorin joined you after a few moments.
“You are not going to drown me, are you?” he raised one of his dark eyebrows suspiciously, a smile dancing on his lips. It suited him well.
“It depends on how you are going to react to my gift!” you giggled. “Now, look into the water and tell me what you think!”
“It is truly a golden crown,” the dwarven king stared into his reflection in the stream and chuckled. “Who would have thought that the forest was full of such riches? I thank you kindly for this generous gift, Kingcup.”
“You like it? What a relief! I don’t have to drown you, then. All is well!” you grinned and then both of you burst out in laughter. Somehow, it felt good laughing beside him. It felt right.
“And to think such a treasure came from under your skilled fingers! I have been lucky to have met you here today. You are magical indeed, just like your fairy ring,” he winked at you, looking more like a playful young dwarf than a king.
“I tell you, this is just a flower arrangement, not a magical place!” you protested.
“There is only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he smirked and reached out his hand to you.
“Very well,” you agreed with a sigh and placed your hand in his. He squeezed it gently but reassuringly, smiling at you, as you both stepped inside your golden flower mandala.
There was a splash of emotion in his eyes when he said, “Let us see where your magic takes us.”
You barely managed to close your eyes when a warm breath of wind caressed your face and suddenly you felt dizzy. A sensation of falling flooded your senses. A few heartbeats later everything stopped. In the surrounding silence, you could only hear your and Thorin quickened breaths. You still felt how warm his skin was, his fingers wrapped around your palms.
“Is it done?” you asked, not daring to open your eyes yet.
“It is. Your magic is truly astonishing,” Thorin replied, and you recognized notes of admiration in his voice.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his face. He was smiling, and there was something new in his expression; something that you couldn’t decipher.
And then you looked around.
“But we’re still in the same place!” you exclaimed. “It was just as I told you, there is no magic here.”
“Ah but there is. Your magic,” he looked at you expectantly, his features softening.
“My… magic?” you frowned. What did he mean by that? And why did he close the distance between you? Oh, and why did he raise your hand to his lips, kissing it reverently? By the way, his lips turned out to be even softer than you imagined, and even warmer, almost scorching.
“Your magic worked perfectly well,” he murmured huskily, his breath fanning the delicate skin on the back of your hand. “It brought me to the place my heart longed to be, sweet Kingcup.”
“And where is that?” you whispered back, trying to find the answer in the bottomless depths of his cerulean eyes. And then you heard his voice.
“By the side of my forest queen.”
* * *
Don’t forget to let me know what you think about this story!
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
I love the dynamics between Thorin, Dis, and Frerin. They are adorable together; it’s so nice to see them enjoying themselves and acting like kids without any danger ahead.
And the dream!! I’m so intrigued! I especially loved this line: “It seems like a wondrous place to live at,” she confessed, bringing a delicate white flower to her nose and smelling it with her eyes closed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He wanted to smell it together with her. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. And he forgot that he was supposed to dislike flowers.” Thorin, you cutie!!
I’m always looking forward your comments @legolasbadass, thank you so much for reading and reblogging
And yes, young prince Thorin is still idealistic and meeting this mysterious maiden hit him hard ☺️ Let’s hope he doesn’t lose his head completely!
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
Honey… You know that it would catch our interest! Everything you write does, tbh!
I love this so much! Thorin, Frerin and Dis’ dynamic was amazing! How Dis has her older brothers (and Dwalin) wrapped around her little finger through her genius shenanigans is absolute perfection!
Their encounter through the dream left me wanting for more. When would they meet? How? Who is she, after all? Because we have only her name and looks.
I can’t wait for another chapter!
Ahhh now I’m blushing and don’t know to say!
Thank you so much @justfollowtheroad for your wonderful words of encouragement, I’ll definitely keep in mind what you like and think of it when planning to fill the next chapter :) It may contain more info about Saga from the elven realm.
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
This was….amazing, wonderful, sweet and beyond my expectations!! I love how you captured the connections between Thorin, Dis and Frerin. And I would love to hear the talk Thorin is planning to have with Dwalin. Poor Dwalin, he better be honest! And the dream!!! I will keep the warm feeling in my heart for a long time. You picked the perfect name for her ”Saga”. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this. Please continue the story, we all need a Midsummer Night’s Dream! ❤️❤️
As always, your reblogs leave me speechless and I’m melting inside You’re encouraging me to write more in such a wonderful way! Thank you so much
I’m happy you liked her name, it’s so telling. And those two definitely have a story to tell…
P.S. I’m already thinking about the next chapter :)
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
Did this little story interest me? Do you really need to ask? Please write a sequel (imagine me sitting on my knees, looking up to you with my sweetest puppy eyes)
I loved their sibling dynamic, there isn’t much young Thorin, Frerin and Dis content around. Also, Dís and Dwalin? Yes please!
Great work as always
You’re not only super sweet, but you’re making me blush! I’m glad to hear you enjoyed the trio and their shenanigans. What a shame the happiness will soon end…
Author’s note: request for angst + thorin by @anjhope1 I hope you enjoy and sorry for the long wait!
Warnings: a short angst with a sad ending
You were a wreck. A running whirlwind of a mess, heart pounding and fear at its highest. You knew in your bones, you could feel the loss. The loss of too many friends and loved ones. But there was no way, no way in all of Valar that Thorin had-
No! He was surely fine, he was surely victorious at the top of that icy cliff, catching his breath and looking down at his comrades with pride. Surely..?
In any case, he was too stubborn to leave, too stubborn to not rule over his rightfully owned kingdom under the mountain that he had justtaken back. He outwitted the fire breathing dragon Smaug. Such a worm in the words of the King himself. He had escaped from the Woodland Elves prison, escaped from the King of Goblins lair, fought trolls and traveled miles and miles to get here. He had so much to do as a King and so much to celebrate.
But when you reached the top of the pale orc’s fort-hold the blood drained from your face. This had to be an illusion. Where was Azog?! How could he have possibly defeated Thorin, no there was no way. You refused to accept what was in front of you. Thorin’s body was crumpled to the ground, his sword not too far away from him. Blood was everywhere and from what you could see of his body, it was most likely his. You hurled yourself over Thorin’s body, “Thorin where is he, I’ll kill him I’ll-“
His breathing was labored as he shook his head, “Shh,” Thorin could hardly whisper, “His defiling days are over.” He was smiling now that you were before him, as if he wasn’t in agony from his body being battered. The light in his eyes was bright, the lightest of blue. “I defeated him.” He said proudly but you couldn’t smile just yet. You dropped your sword that had been frozen in your grip, ready to swing at any orc. Your hands swept over his body, not needing to look hard for the gaping wound that was causing Thorin so much pain. He reached for your hands as they had started to tremble with uncertainty for his life. “Please Thorin,” You held in a sob as his fingers interlaced with yours, “don’t leave me.” “I will always be by your side amrâlime,” It was hard for him to say much more, and there was so much unsaid. You were trying to blink the tears away but that just made them spill down your cheeks. “My King,” you choked as you leaned over to kiss him for the first and last time.
“I love you,” The words were a soft caress for him as his final breath left his lungs. His eyes were forever locked with yours as he graced you with his lips lifted in a smile. One that had always made you feel special and had your heart racing. It now broke you into two pieces as you couldn’t feel the beat of his pulse and his body grew colder and colder.
You had screamed at the world “NO!” Until your throat felt like it was on fire and you had no more tears left to cry. It wasn’t fair! How could life be so cruel as to take someone who fought for the good, fought for his people, fought for his home! Yet he wouldn’t be able to live in it. It was too cruel for you to bare as you curled up beside him, body shaking with grief.
You couldn’t move as Bilbo and Dwalin came to grieve with you. They tried comforting you as best they could but it was Balin who finally wrapped you into a hug, turning you away from the King who would’ve been ruling under the mountain. The King who had your heart and hadn’t known it until the end. He took it with him, it was his to rule and his alone.
Happy Midsummer weekend to all who are celebrating!
You know how on Midsummer you are supposed to gather seven different flowers or herbs and put them under your pillow to dream about the person you are going to spend your life with?
I’ve been talking with @linasofia about how Midsummer would look in Erebor. I got a little bit inspired, and this is how this fic came to be. Thank you for the inspo and for your support
Let me know how you like it. If this little story catches your interest, I may write more, so let me know if I should continue!
Rating:G
* * *
Thistle. A Midsummer Night’s Dream
“Thorin, let’s go! Frerin is waiting for us! He has already left!” Dis tugged at Thorin’s sleeve.
“Patience, let us wait for a better moment,” he leaned towards her and whispered.
They were sitting at a large table in the Main Hall of Erebor, surrounded by song, dance, festive music, delicious food, and happy Dwarves. The whole Erebor was celebrating Midsummer. Everyone was there, even their Grandfather. King Thror had been lately avoiding the crowds and spending more and more time in the treasure chamber, which worried Thorin immensely. Now however, his long, elegantly coiffed silver beard glistened with beads and precious gems, and he seemed as cheerful as he used to when Thorin and his siblings were tiny pebbles sitting on his lap and playing with his crown. It warmed Thorin’s heart to see his Grandfather smiling once again, without that ominous dark frown on his face.
The King stood up and proposed a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom. Cheers and merriment followed, and in the commotion, Thorin and Dis managed to sneak out, leaving the sounds of the feast behind them.
“Do you think Frerin asked Dvala to join us?” Dis wondered as they were walking along one of the corridors leading out of the Mountain. Thorin frowned, “I thought we agreed on keeping this silly idea a secret.”
“Oh, come on, Brother, do not be so gloomy!” she nudged him with her elbow. “You can survive one evening of fun in a good company. Dvala is a sweet girl, I am quite fond of her!”
“Frerin should focus on his mining apprenticeship, not on girls.”
“Just like you are focusing on your dwarven law studies by training with Dwalin instead?”
They took a turn and walked down the staircase that led to the gates of Erebor. Frerin was supposed to meet them nearby. Thorin grunted, “Grandfather says he expects his heirs to be well-versed in many different…”
“You’re such a bore, Thorin! There’s more to life than duties and studying,” his sister insisted, making him groan inwardly. “You will see, one day you are going to meet a lovely girl who will steal your heart and show you that there are more things to life than musty old tomes and swords.”
“I doubt it. I do not wish to complicate my life with affairs of the heart. I am expected to wed someone chosen by Mother and Grandmother. My marriage has to benefit our kingdom. Now, we need strong allies more than ever,” a shadow passed Thorin’s face at the thought of the recent serious disagreement their grandfather had with his brother Gror, the lord of the Iron Hills, ceasing diplomatic relations between both dwarven strongholds. And then, there was that catastrophe of an audience when King Thror suddenly refused to hand over the necklace made of the Gems of Lasgalen to King Thranduil. As it turned out, the ruler of the Woodland Realm hadn’t planned to pay for the work of dwarven master jewelers in the first place, but Thorin had seen King Thror solving more delicate issues without any problems before. Now, whenever he looked into the eyes of his Grandfather, he saw only darkness and greed. But not tonight. Tonight they sparkled with joy, and that was a blessing from Mahal.
“Stop talking about politics, Brother!” Dis scolded him once again. “It’s Midsummer today, have you forgotten? We are going to sneak out of the Mountain, gather seven different flowers, make wreaths out of them, and then…”
“Only if you’re going to make the wreaths for us, Dis!” Frerin exclaimed, jumping from behind one of the green marble columns.
“Do you want everyone to hear us, you clot?!” she hissed, making Thorin smirk. Dis wasn’t of battle age yet, but she already started resembling their mother more and more, growing just as fearless and fierce. She rested her fists on her hips, stomped her foot, and declared, “You are going to make your midsummer wreaths yourselves! That’s what the tradition says!” “Remind me, brother, why are we doing this?” Frerin rolled his eyes and looked at Thorin helplessly.
“Dis bribed you shamelessly, and I… may have lost a bet,” Thorin admitted reluctantly. Indeed, he made a bet with his sweet, little, supposedly innocent sister. A simple bet, and a very stupid one. He still couldn’t believe he let himself be tricked so easily. Dis was supposed to challenge Dwalin to an arm-wrestling match. If she were to win, Thorin would fulfill her wish. Just one simple wish. But if she were to lose, she would write a two-scroll essay on the history of settlement in the Blue Mountains for him, a week’s worth of work. He hated history, but his tutor was very exigent. Besides, since Dwalin was a formidable arm-wrestler, Thorin was sure his best friend would win. To his dismay, Dwalin didn’t, and Thorin still had trouble wrapping his mind around that fact. Dis. Won an arm-wrestling match. With Dwalin, one of the strongest Dwarves he knew. He still remembered how Dwalin grinned at him in triumph, pushing her arm down slowly, but then Dis gasped quietly. Dwalin looked at her as she said, or rather purred, “Oh, my, you are really strong!”, and then she batted her eyelashes. This was enough for the mighty Dwalin: distracted, he loosened his grip – and that was exactly what Dis was waiting for: she slammed his arm down in a blink of an eye.
And now Thorin had to fulfill his little sister’s wish and follow her out of the Mountain instead of drinking ale with Dwalin and discussing his latest axe design. Who would have thought that younger sisters were such a menace?
“You are doing this because you are my beloved brothers and care for me greatly,” Dis grinned and added with a wink. “We can’t win with her, Thorin, can we?” Frerin looked at him pleadingly.
“A warrior knows when a battle is lost. We must wait for a better opportunity to counterattack,” he offered, making an imitation of Lord Fundin and his lectures on war strategy, causing his brother to chuckle.
When all three of them finally found themselves on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain, the summer evening surrounded them with warmth. Scents of nature wafted into Thorin’s nose. It was long after sunset, but the surroundings were bathed in the silvery light of the moon. In the clear air, Thorin could see the silver ribbon of the River Running below and the distant lights of Dale. “Granny says it’s the perfect time for picking the midsummer flowers!” Dis announced behind him. Frerin groaned in despair and followed her, but Thorin didn’t move. Perhaps if he pretended he hadn’t heard her she would let him be, he thought. “Thorin! You lost the bet, remember?” his sister addressed him pointedly and he had to capitulate.
“I do. Something tells me that you will never let me forget about it for as long as we live,” Thorin offered, disheartened. It turned out that picking flowers was much easier than he thought. Besides, he wanted to be done with that silly flower business as soon as possible and return back to the Mountain.
“So, Frerin, why haven’t you invited Dvala tonight?” Dis asked in a light-hearted tone after they wreaked sufficient havoc on the meadow. She was busy weaving her wreath that consisted of lots of red, yellow, and blue flowers. Thorin hadn’t the slightest idea what each of them was called nor did he care. After a pause, Frerin responded, sticking his tongue out as he tried to copy her movements, working on a bunch of pink flowers, “I did, but her aunt wouldn’t let her go.” “Oh, bother, that aunt of hers. Oh, I know!” Dis smiled mischievously, “I will talk with Mother, and she will invite them both for a picnic, so you and Dvala can…” Thorin’s sister’s voice drifted off into the air as he shook his head, focusing on his own cursed wreath. After having his fingers assaulted with thorns, he came to the conclusion that neither thistle nor blackthorn twigs were the best choices for this pointless task. “Great! Now, put your wreaths on your heads and show me how you look!” Dis ordered. Thorin raised an eyebrow, “Is this really necessary?” “Dwalin says that if you give me any problems, he will stop training with you!” she crossed her arms across her chest. “Traitor,” Thorin muttered. He expected many things but not his best friend taking his sister’s side.
“Are you surprised, Thorin?” Frerin chuckled, putting his pink wreath on his head and making a funny face. “You should have seen them both in the northern passage! Oh, Dwalin, those flowers are so pretty! – Not as pretty as ye are!” He imitated Dis’ and Dwalin’s voices and then proceeded to make kissing noises.
“Be quiet, Frerin, or I’ll tell Mother that I’ve found Principles of Love and Lust under your bed!” Dis furrowed her brow. It was interesting, Thorin observed, to see how Frerin’s face turned from pale to strawberry red. And as for Dis and the kissing noises, he decided to procure a cask of ale and visit Dwalin to assess the intentions that he might have towards his little sister. They will either drink the ale together or he would smash the wooden cask on his best friend’s stupid head. That thought put him in a somewhat better mood.
“Tell me, sister, how do I look?” Thorin put that misery of a wreath on his head. The things he has to endure for his siblings.
“Thorin!” she clasped her hands and beamed. Thorin tried to ignore Frerin’s chuckling from behind. “You look stunning! Like the Forest King in his flower crown!” “Are you telling me I look like the ruler of Mirkwood? Like an elf?” he huffed. “Not at all, silly! More like one of those fairy tale creatures, with horns, furry legs, and hooves. Like a grumpy satyr!” giggling, she closed the distance between them, stood on her tiptoes, and placed a wet, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.
“How long are we supposed to wear those wreaths?” Frerin said before Thorin could say anything.
“Until you go to bed tonight. Make sure to put them under your pillows and then each of you is going to dream about the love of your life. At least that is what Granny says!” Dis explained, putting her own wreath on her head.
“That means Thorin is going to dream of Deathless and his anvil!” Frerin sniggered.
***
Thorin hadn’t given much thought to his sister’s last words until he returned to his chambers. Getting ready to retire for the night, he removed the prickly wreath from his head with a grunt as it turned out to be entangled in his braids. It took him a while to separate his hair from the stems, twigs, and flowers and Thorin solemnly promised himself to comb and wash his hair properly first thing in the morning. Falling on his bed in exhaustion, he managed to put the mutilated plants under his pillow, just like he promised his sister. And in the morning, he would have a serious talk with Dwalin.
Sleep came to him quickly, mere moments after he closed his eyes.
He stood at the edge of a forest clearing, breathless. She was there, sitting with her back towards him, in the middle of a runestone circle. He could make out the shapes and Khuzdul runes carved into them, but he paid them no heed, his eyes drawn to her bright silhouette. Bathed in sunlight, she seemed like a glowing, luminous being and not a… dwarf maiden. Clad in a long white gown, with a flower wreath and a couple of simple braids adorning her flowing hair that made him think of pale marble with gold veins, she seemed like a benevolent spectre from another world, like a glittering pearl found at the bottom of the sea.
And then he realized she was singing. A soothing, soulful melody reached both his ears and his heart, and it was as if the day became even brighter, the air even clearer, and he felt a sweet taste in his mouth as if he had been drinking the sweetest mead.
Wanting to hear her voice better, Thorin took a step forward, but the song suddenly stopped.
“Who are you?” she turned towards him and asked in a gentle voice, a curious smile dancing on her lips.
“Thorin, son of Thrain, my lady,” he made a customary bow and approached the circle.
“A dwarf… here?” she tilted her head.
“You seem surprised, my lady,” he replied, trying not to think of how bright her eyes were and how pink and full her lips were against her sun-kissed cheeks. “Indeed I am. No one ever comes here, only me,” she said absentmindedly. “Then I am honored to be your first guest,” he added quickly. “Welcome to my meadow, Thorin, son of Thrain,” after a hesitant pause, the maiden stood up and curtsied elegantly, as if she was in Erebor’s throne room and not in the middle of an ancient forest.
She gestured at him to enter the stone circle and asked him to sit down beside her, just before she lowered herself gracefully on the grass. His heart was beating fast, but he moved slowly, carefully, not wanting to startle her, as if he was on a hunt and she was a prized doe.
“Tell me where you come from, Thorin, son of Thrain. Tell me of your homeland,” she whispered, and he noticed a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. It was at that moment that he realized that her eyes were green as priceless emeralds, like the soft grass beneath them, and he drowned in the boundless sea of her gaze completely.
He spoke of the kingdom of Erebor, of its beauty and wealth, of the skilled miners, jewelers, and stonemasons. He spoke of the wonders hidden deep inside of the Mountain and of the breathtaking view from its top. And she listened and listened like no one ever before has listened to him, and she asked insightful questions, and wanted to know more and more. “It seems like a wondrous place to live at,” she confessed, bringing a delicate white flower to her nose and smelling it with her eyes closed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He wanted to smell it together with her. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. And he forgot that he was supposed to dislike flowers. “If you ever happen to travel to Rhovanion, it will be my pleasure to show you the beauty of Erebor,” he offered with an encouraging smile. The thought of walking beside her through the endless passages of the Mountain and having her smile back at him just the way she was smiling now was making him almost dizzy with inexplicable joy. This is what he wanted more than anything else.
She nodded in reply, and the blush on her lovely cheeks deepened, and his heart skipped a beat.
“May I ask you something, Master Thorin?” her sweet voice reached his ears. Hearing her speak his name, as she wrapped her shapely mouth around it, made his breath hitch. He didn’t even notice that she hadn’t called him ‘my lord’, as it was customary since he was a prince. He didn’t care. She simply glanced at him shyly from under her eyelids and it was everything he needed, and more. “Do all the dwarves of Erebor have as unruly hair as you do?” her question rang in the air, her eyes glittering with mischief. Trying to mask his surprise, he ran his hand through his hair, realizing that he had his wreath on his head only when his fingers bumped against its prickly surface. His hair underneath seemed indeed tousled and unkempt. Thorin grunted, feeling warmth spilling on his cheeks. That was not the first impression he was hoping for.
“Forgive me, my lady, I must look like a wild beast to you.” “You are too well-mannered to be a beast, Master Thorin,” she giggled. “But wild, yes, I have to agree with you.” That will teach me not to pick thistle for my midsummer wreath. A truly useless plant,” he shook his head and chuckled.
“I was rather happy to see your head adorned with these flowers. As you can see,” she pointed at her own wreath,” I too chose thistle. My hosts say that it is prickly and unpleasant to touch, but it symbolizes bravery, strength, and determination. A thistle wreath becomes you.” Thorin had to stop himself from puffing up his chest proudly, trying to convince himself it was simply courteous flattery, nothing more. “I thank you for your kind words, my lady. May I ask who your hosts are? Does this forest,” he gestured around them, “not belong to you?” “Not at all, Master Thorin,” she shook her head, pale golden locks spilling down her shoulders, making him want to run his fingers through the soft sea of her hair. “We are in an elven realm called… In Khuzdul, we would say ‘The Flower of Dreams’. We are dreaming, so it sounds very fitting, do you not think?” “Yes… it does. We are indeed dreaming, are we not?” he spoke slowly as the realization washed over him. This was indeed a dream, he remembered clearly the moment when he fell asleep in his bed in Erebor. What was surprising, this dream felt more coherent, more vivid than any other dream he had before. He smelled the sweet scent of flowers in the air, he touched the soft grass, he heard the birds chirping, and he saw a lovely maiden’s face in front of him, so real that he had to ignore the sudden urge to kiss her soft lips. Yes, this dream was different. “It is the Midsummer Night, the night of wonders and magic,” she nodded. “You said this place lies in an elven realm. Is it elven magic that brought me here?” Thorin frowned. He knew the history of his people, he read of the great friendship between the great artisan of Durin’s folk, Narvi, and the elven prince Celebrimor, of the creation of the Doors of Durin. His Grandfather’s dealings with the king of the Woodland Realm, however, taught him to be suspicious of elven intentions. Silvery laughter rang in the air. “Neither of us has pointy ears, Master Thorin. I have never heard of dwarves dabbling in elven magic. Or are you an elven wizard in disguise?” Thorin chuckled, “Not that I know of.” “Then it very well may be dwarven magic, the magic of Mahal and Kaminzabdûna bequeathed upon us on this very night. Or perhaps it is just an exceptionally vivid dream, nothing more,” she offered, looking away, her small hands resting in her lap idly, the flower forgotten between them. “No, my lady, you are not a dream, you cannot be merely a figment of my imagination!” he protested vehemently and, on the spur of the moment, he took her hand into his. Her skin was cool under his touch, but as soon as their fingers met, a tingling sensation rushed through his body.
She gasped, “Have you felt it too…?” Thorin looked into her widened eyes, her lips parted in astonishment, her hair glowing like a halo around her head. “As well as if I were wide awake, my–” he interrupted, bringing her delicate hand to his lips and kissed it gently, reverently.
“May I know what I shall call you, my lady?” Her melodic voice reached his ears in a whisper as if she was entrusting him with her greatest secret, “My name is Saga.”
Thorin opened his eyes. His chest heaved. He took a deep breath. It was dark, except for the faint light of a forgotten candle. Instantly he knew where he was. His bedchamber in Erebor. He closed his eyes again, hoping to return to that meadow, to her. To no avail. Sleep wouldn’t come. He felt hot. Something prickled against the skin of his palm. Thorin brought his closed hand to his eyes, but before he opened it, he knew what he was about to see.
A thistle flower.
* * *
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Summary:Everyone in Cranford Falls knows the Prescott family. Not only do they run Miss Fortune’s Crystal occult shop in town, but they’re also known for their psychic abilities. On occasion, they’re even called into service to assist the police on particularly difficult cases. All except Alex Prescott, that is. Unlike her three sisters, she’s inherited none of her family’s gifts. At least that was what she thought until the day the dead guy showed up in her bedroom asking for her help in solving a murder. His own.
Six months after his brother Frerin’s death, Detective Thorin Durin is on a downward spiral of self-destruction until Frerin starts showing up in his apartment, claiming his death was not an unfortunate accident but was, in fact a murder. Trouble is, Frerin doesn’t know who did it, so he wants Thorin to reopen the case and solve it, with Alex’s help.
As they work together to find out just exactly what happened to Frerin, Alex and Thorin grow closer. Neither one knows it, but Frerin isn’t just looking to solve his own murder, he’s trying to help his brother cope with his loss as well, and to find happiness with the Prescott sister who’s known as the quiet one…
Summary:Alex and Terri have an odd encounter while shopping for Gram’s birthday…
Terri chattered on as she flipped through the racks at Macy’s, but Alex didn’t hear a word she said. Instead, thoughts of Frerin cluttered her mind. What she’d promised him. Find his killer. Bring them to justice. Cripes. How on earth was she going to find the person (or persons) responsible for the fire, when trained experts couldn’t? Just what did he expect her to do? How did he expect her to do it? She’d already screwed it up with Frerin’s brother. Now what?
“Hey! Are you still on planet Earth?”
Alex snapped back into the present. “What?” she asked, peering at Terri. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah. I asked you if you dreamed about Mr. Tall-Dark-Dead-and-Handsome?”
She shook her head. “No. Not last night.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe since I can see him now, he won’t bother my sleep. I’m actually kind of hoping that’s how it’ll work. I could use a solid night’s sleep, you know.”
“I don’t know. Are you sure that’s what you’d want? At least in your dreams you can get a little funky with him.”
Alex fought the urge to groan. “Terr, I’ve already told you—I don’t wantto get funky with him. He’s cute, but he’s not my type.”
“Damn, I wish I could see this guy. Too bad I can’t just develop that Sight thing—poof!— just like you did.”
It was a little weird to think that two days ago, she wouldn’t have been able to see Frerin, either. But she wasn’t so sure the Sight was really a gift for her. Too soon to tell, she thought, mentally shaking her head as Terri held up a gaudy brown-and-orange silk top.
“That is hideous.”
“Why?” Terri held it at arm’s length and squinted at it. “These colors would look great on Gram.”
“She’ll kill both of us if you bring her anything she considers old lady-ish, and thatdefinitely looks old lady-ish. It’s got old lady written all over it.”
“You’re crazy. Gram will love it.”
“I think that is nothow she’ll feel about it.” Alex frowned at the sheer, oversized top, fighting to keep her nose from wrinkling in distaste. It was the last thing she could ever see Gram wearing—no matter what. A nuclear bomb could go off in the center of town and melt everything else, and stillGram would refuse to wear that monstrosity. In fact, she’d probably forbid Terri from ever setting foot in her house ever again and she considered Terri an honorary Prescott. Or she would until Terri showed up with that top for her.
“Put it back, Terr. Trust me.”
Terri sighed a heavy, weary sigh. “Well, I hope you have some ideas, Lex, because I got nothing.”
“We’ll find something. If nothing else, we’ll head over to Spencer’s.”
Terri giggled. “Remember last year, when Syd got her that windup penis?”
Alex couldn’t help her snort. “And she said she wished it’d come with a manattached?”
Both women burst out laughing rather loudly, which earned them a few strange looks from other shoppers. Alex ignored them, though, even as she grasped at a rack of blouses to keep from tipping over, and wiped her streaming eyes with her left hand. She didn’t know which Gram thought was funnier—the wind-up penis or that a room full of senior women were horrified by it.
“God, I thought Teddy was going to wet her pants!” Terri blurted, clutching her left side with one hand and reaching to steady herself on a table of folded jeans with the other. “Remember how red she got?”
“Remember? She didn’t talk to Syd for almost two weeks,” Alex gasped, managing to right herself as she fought to control her giggles. It felt so good to laugh like that, better than she would have imagined. Especially since she’d found yet another threat on the blog that morning. It was tempting to call the police, but she didn’t see what they could possibly do, since she didn’t even have a name. Most likely, the police would ask her what she expected, given her family’s business. Nut jobs came with the territory and this one wasn’t the first, although he was the meanest so far.
The back of her neck prickled then, as she noticed a string bean of a man on the other side of the main aisle, casually flipping through a table display of vee-necked sweaters. It probably wouldn’t have bothered her, except that he’d only begun paying attention to the sweaters when she turned to look at him. She was pretty sure he’d been staring at them a moment earlier.
Of course, why shouldn’t he? She and Terri were laughing like maniacs just a few minutes earlier and the words wind-up penis probably carried a little farther beyond their earshot. He wouldn’t have been the only starer, that was for sure. In fact, a couple of blue-haired old ladies were stillstaring at them. Then again, that could’ve been because Terri was wearing a short skirt and a white blouse that was practically sheer and she was one of those women who was naturally blessed with ample curves and thin thighs and seemed to be all leg, while Alex felt like a fire hydrant next to her—short and squat.
She forced herself to turn away, forcing out of the corner of her mouth, “Terri!” in a throaty whisper.
Terri’s head jerked up. “What?”
“Keep your voice down!” Alex muttered. With a slight tilt of her head in String Bean’s direction, she whispered, “See that guy?”
Her lips barely moving, Terri muttered back, “Skinny dude with the girly sweaters?”
“That’s him.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“What’s he doing?”
Dropping her gaze to the rest of the hideous orange-and-brown blouses, Terri said, “Flipping through—wait… he just stopped. I think he’s checking you out, Lex.”
That made her want to shiver. “Ugh.” She tried to feign an interest in the stack of faded Donna Karan distressed jeans. Lifting up a couple of pairs as if searching for one in her size, she waited a beat and then jerked her head up.
String Bean’s cheeks went ruddy as he twisted away from them. Even from where she stood, the flush sweeping up the back of his neck was plainly visible. His movements were too deliberate, too careful, to be anything other than a feigned interest of his own. To Terri, she whispered, “I don’t think he’s checking us out in the way that you think he is. I think he’s trying to eavesdrop on us.”
“On Gram’s taste in gifts? That’s… weird…”
“No.” She glanced out of the corner of her eye again. String Bean had moved closer. “He ignored us until you brought up Frerin, then pretended to ignore us while we were talking about Gram. Just watch and see for yourself.”
“Lex—”
“So, I think I know who dream man is, and it’s so weird, because he’s dead, Ter.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He’s been dead for years.” Alex smiled as String Bean perked up again and moved closer still. She moved from tops to athletic wear, moving closer to the narrow corridor that led to the elevators and rest rooms. She kept talking as she moved. “And get this… he doesn’t know how he died.”
“Get out!” Under her breath, Terri muttered, “Where are we going?”
“The elevator. But act casual.”
“What—”
“Right? It’s so weird and he thinks Ican help him.” Alex resisted the urge to grab Terri by the arm and drag her down into the hallway. The last thing she really wanted to was to look or act suspicious.
“Help him? How?” Terri rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. No sooner had they both moved toward the corridor, then Alex saw String Bean drop a melon-colored vee neck and causally saunter their way. Her heart began a dull, triple-time staccato in her chest as she grabbed Terri’s arm and pulled her around the bend.
“What the hell are you doing?” Terri demanded.
“Just wait…” Although her instinct was to just hurry to the elevator and get into it, she forced herself to remain just where she was. “He’ll be here in three… two… one…”
String Bean came around the corner then and Alex rounded on him, planting a hand firmly in the middle of his skinny chest as she shoved him up against the wall. “Is there a reason you’re listening in on me talking to my friend?”
Bean groaned as he hit the wall. “What the—what are you talking about, lady? I’m just shopping.”
“Uh huh. Do I need to call security or are you going to leave us alone?”
“Leave you alone? I wasn’t even bothering you! Christ, can’t a guy look at sweater?”
“You’re shopping in the women’s department,” Terri pointed out.
“What are you,” he glared at her, “the clothing police? If you must know, I’m shopping for my sister, you twit.” He knocked Alex’s hand from him. “So, fuck off or I’llcall security.”
“You were listening to us and don’t even try to deny it.”
“I wasn’t listening to you, it’s just that… I thought you were someone else. You look like an old friend. I was wrong.”
“An old friend?” Alex just stared at him. “Who?”
“Teddy Prescott. I graduated with her and it’s been forever and I thought you were her but as I got closer, I wasn’t so sure. Sorry I bothered you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You thought Iwas Teddy? Do you wear glasses? Because if not, you might want to get your eyes checked out.”
“You look enough like her. I’m sorry, lady. I didn’t mean to spook you…”
“You didn’t spook me. I don’t like when people listen in on my conversations. What was your name again?”
“Again? I never said it to begin with. I’m Yuri, why?”
“Teddy’s my sister and I’m pretty sure she’s never mentioned you.”
“Does she tell you about all of her friends? Christ, you really are the fucked up Prescott, aren’t you?”
Alex narrowed her eyes. “What did you call me?”
“Listen, Yuri,” Terri broke in, stepping up to stand beside Alex. “You watch yourself when you’re talking about my family. You got that?”
“Fuck off, bitch. Both of you,” Yuri muttered, twisting to get to his feet.
Wrong thing to say. Terri just smiled and then swung. Her tote bag hit Yuri square in the groin and with a yelp, he hit the floor like a sack of sand. She then grabbed Alex by the arm and they sprinted toward the elevators. Terri punched the button and Alex uttered a silent prayer of thanks as the light lit up, the doors chimed, and then opened. They dove inside and Terri jabbed at the door closed button as Yuri’s deep swears grew louder.
The doors slid shut just as his face appeared in the slit and Alex slumped against the back of the car. “Oh my God…” she breathed, her heart racing and her hands shaking uncontrollably. “What the hell was thatabout?”
Terri, however, was glaring at her. “What’s going on, Lex? You’re jumpy as hell today and I’ve never seen you attack a guy for following you down a hallway. Now, what gives? And don’t tell me nothing because I swear to God, I’ll—”
“Easy, Terr,” Alex sighed, pushing up and away from the cool steel. “I’ll tell you. But you have to promise to let me handle it, okay?”
“Handle what?” Terri’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Promise me first.”
“Alex.”
She shook her head. “No dice, Terri. You promise, or I don’t spill.”
Terri sighed, but uncrossed her arms. “Okay. Okay. I promise. Now, will you tell me already?”
The elevator chimed as they reached the third floor. As the doors slid open, Alex grabbed Terri’s arm. “Let’s go grab a coffee and I’ll tell you everything so far.”
***
“Holy… are you kidding me?”
Alex was more than a little surprised at the starkness of her friend’s face and the heat in her voice. She knew Terri would be upset, but she didn’t think she’d be thisupset. “Look, we get hate mail from time to time and it’s really no big deal. It comes with the territory and we all know to just ignore it unless there is a real, honest threat somewhere.”
“I’d say hoping you die sounds like a threat to me.”
“Mrs. Urlino says stuff like that to us all the time. Well, not to me, maybe, but definitely to the others.”
“Yeah, well we all know she’s harmless. Batshit, but harmless.” Terri shook her head. “This isn’t Mrs. Urlino though, Lex. You should report it. Tell Detective Durin. He’d probably want to know.”
“Why? What can he do? It’s just an email.”
“Well, I don’t know, but you’re telling him. Or else.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Or else what, Mom?”
“I’ll tell Gram and your ass will be cooked.”
Alex sunk into her chair. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Damn straight I would.”
“Too bad we don’t know when she’ll be back, because that just mightget me to spill.”
“I’m not kidding, Alex. I’ll call her right now.” Terri dug around in her bag until she came up with her Samsung Galaxy. She waved it at Alex. “Spill. Now.”
Alex sighed. The last thing she wanted was Gram thinking she needed to come home now instead of finishing her job finding the missing teen. Terri had her and she knew it.
She sighed. “Well, what if I tell Frerin?”
“Damn. I forgot about your ghost. Well, does he know your cop?”
“He’s not my ghost, Thorin’s not my cop, and of course they know each other, they’re brothers. Jeez, Terr, were you completely stoned all through high school? Everyone knew them. They were the biggest jocks in town and knew it.”
“Oh, right…. Sorry… You were chasing football players, I was out stealing car parts with Troy McInierny, remember?”
“Tell me again how we’re still friends?”
“Right?” Terri dropped her phone back into her bag. “Regardless, you need to ask one of them. What if it’s not just any empty threat?”
“Well, I don’t know what Frerin can do, unless it’s something like make the walls of the emailer’s house bleed, but I’d imagine we’d need to know where his house was to begin with, wouldn’t we?”
“Lex… you’re wandering again.”
“Sorry.” She set her cup down, tracing the rim with her fingertip. After a long silence, she said, “What if I’m just imagining him?”
“Imagining who?” Terri asked, wiping the lipstick smear from her own cup.
Alex fought the urge to reach over and throttle her. “Frerin!”
“Oh, right.” Terri sat back, folding her arms over her chest. “Do you think you might be?”
It was something that had been worrying her on and off since she first realized she could see him. How was it possible, when she’d never had the Sight before? What if she was just losing her mind instead?
“No,” she finally said, “I don’t. But I’m the weirdo in my family my entire life and now all of the sudden I’m not? It doesn’t make any sense. They all knew what they could do from the time we were kids, Terr. Why is this only possible for me now?”
“You’re asking me?I don’t know, Lex. Maybe you need to talk to one of your sisters. Or Gram—she wold probably know best. But ask oneof them if it’s possible. I have no idea if it is or not.”
Alex stared down at the cardboard cup. All around them in the food court, mothers wheeled babies in strollers or argued with older kids about this and that, while teenagers mingled about chattering away in their own foreign language. At the next table, a guy in a charcoal gray Armani suit was busy regaling his lunch companion with stories of his latest barroom conquest, being graphic enough that Alex wanted to throw up.
Leaning closer to Terri, she whispered, “Did you ever wonder how much of this bull is made up?”
Terri grinned. “Probably ninety-five percent of it is.” She shook her head. “There is no way that guy’s ten inches anywhere.”
Alex snorted hard enough to make her sinuses hurt and Terri quickly gathered up her things as Armani Suit shot them both a look. Still chuckling as they walked away, Alex said, “I guess I could ask Teddy. Gram’s in Maine and I don’t have any idea when she’ll be back. I’m only barely speaking to Charlie and Syd’d just tell me to go talk to Teddy anyway.”
At the main elevator, Terri punched the down arrow. “What’s Gram doing in Maine again?”
“Missing teenager. The parents called her last Friday absolutely beside themselves. You know Gram. If it’s babies or kids, she’s outta here.”
“But this is a teenager.” Terri pointed out as the bell dinged and the doors slid open. “Gram’s always grumbling about hexing the lot of them.”
“That’s only the ones who insist on daring each other to touch her house every Halloween,” Alex replied as they stepped onto the small, overheated car. “And it probably wouldn’t be so bad, except then she had to go and predict that Ty Randall’s father would catch Ty’s mother in bed with their neighbor’s son.”
“Oy, I remember. He was what? Eighteen?”
Alex shook her head, remembering the scandal that resulted, as Ty’s mother was also Cranford Falls High’s Spanish teacher. “I don’t think he was even that old. And you know what the killer is? Gram swears she made the whole thing up.”
“Did she?”
Alex never thought so and she shook her head at Terri. “I don’t believe it if she did. Come on, Terr, she had it nailed down to what color bra and panties Carol Randall would be wearing!”
Terri chortled over that. “Green and blue leopard print. Real tasteful.”
Alex sighed softly as they descended into the parking garage. “I don’t think there is a guy in the neighborhood who gave a damn whatfreaky-ass print lingerie she wore. It didn’t stay on her long enough for it to even register.”
The bell chimed and the doors slid open. Stepping out into the dank parking deck, Alex shivered. She hated parking garages—always had, always would—and this one did not have one redeeming factor about it. It was even hotter and stickier than the summer air outside, and the dampness mingled with the smell of gasoline fumes, burnt oil, and worn rubber, to create a perfume that was second only to skunk on the terrible-smell scale.
Terri’s car was at the end of the row and, by the time they reached it, Alex had looked over her shoulder five times. On the sixth peer, Terri sighed gustily as she beeped off her alarm. “What is it, Lex?”
She didn’t know if she could put it into words. Shaking her head, she looked over the car’s roof at Terri. “I guess I’m still spooked about Yuri,” she said, resisting the urge to peer over her shoulder yet again. “I don’t remember Teddy ever mentioning a guy named Yuri. Guess I’ll add that to the things I want to ask her. She’s going to think I’ve lost my mind completely.”
Pulling open the passenger door, she sank into the seat and reached for the seatbelt. “Do I really look all that much like her?”
Terri nodded. “Yeah, Lex. You do. A little shorter, maybe, but from a distance, I can see how someone might think you were her and she was you.”
“Maybe.” Alex didn’t think she looked all that much like any of her sisters. Sure, she and Teddy both had the Preskova’s black hair and the same odd shade of green eyes, but that was it. She was the shortest, not to mention the heaviest, of the girls. Syd resembled her figure-wise, where Charlie was naturally skinny (which made Alex hate her at times). Teddy, on the other hand, worked out like mad to keep her willowy frame just that. It was almost flattering, that Yuri thought she looked like Teddy. At least, it would be if it weren’t so damn creepy.
A/N: A bonus chapter today because when I was revising Chapter Nineteen, I realized it was a monsterof a chapter and so broke it into two. Enjoy!
Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.
Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.
Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing…
Summary: Thorin reassures Leda she’s got nothing to worry about and on Super Bowl Sunday, Leda’s mother calls.
Pairings: Pairing: Modern!Thorin x OC Female
Characters:Thorin, Leda, Frerin, Zana. Jimmy, various other pub patrons, Leda’s mother
“You’re quiet, memsel,” Thorin said, easing the Mustang’s transmission into neutral at the garage doors. “What’s on your mind?”
She sighed, looking over at him. “I’m still feeling kind of… R2D2ish.”
“Leda…”
“I know, I know. I sound so fucking needy, but you did ask.”
He tugged the keys from the ignition and pushed open his door, climbing out of the car without a word. She sat there for a moment, just staring at the white garage doors with their somewhat peeling paint. Christ, she hated feeling this way. Normally, she didn’t care how she stacked up against other women. Part of the freedom of loving who you were with meant it didn’t matter how you stacked up because there was always another guy in another room.
But she didn’t want any other guys now. The one she wanted was the same one a hell of a lot of other women wanted as well. And while she knew Thorin wasn’t about to cheat on her, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be put off by the way her body was changing now.
Why do I do this to myself?
With a low sigh, she opened her door and climbed out. He’d gone inside, annoyed at her, no doubt, and it was tough to blame him. She was annoyed at herself. Annoyed enough for both of them, actually.
Conan let out a woof and bolted past her. Thorin stood just inside the kitchen door, holding it for her. He didn’t say a word as she brushed by him, but just waited for Conan to do his thing, while she went through the parlor and up the stairs. She was tired. Her back hurt. Her legs hurt. She just wanted to lie down. To crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.
Inside the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and whisked her tee shirt over her head and as she did, the floor creaked softly behind her. Although she knew it was Thorin, she still jumped when he came up behind her and slid his arms about her waist to pull her against him. Her eyes closed as he swept a gentle kiss along the curve of her neck, up to her ear.
“You should only know what I see when I look at you,” he whispered, sliding a hand up to cup her left breast gently. “And it doesn’t matter where we are, mesmel. You could be here, like this, or standing behind the bar, chatting with Jimmy. I look at you, and you fucking blow me away. Do you know that?”
“Thorin—”
“Shhh….” He turned her toward him and caught her face with both hands. “Just listen, okay? You’re beautiful, Leda. I’ve thought so since the moment you pulled off your helmet and I realized you were a woman and not just a tiny guy.”
He slid his hands down along her neck, skimmed them across her shoulders, hooking her bra straps with both thumbs to slip over them. The fabric skimmed along her in a light caress that set her head to slowly spinning as he slid a hand around her to pop the clasp on her bra. It fell away, and his smile made the butterflies in her stomach reappear, flapping their wings with enough force to send a shiver rippling through her. His eyes glittered in the faint glow of the nightlight, and a smile played at his lips.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, mimûna. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with. Now even more so. Do you have anyidea what seeing you like this does to me?”
As he spoke, he traced a fingertip about her left nipple, his eyes never leaving hers even as that nipple beaded beneath his touch and her eyes grew heavy-lidded. As it sent a new rush of flutters through her, each one stronger and tinglier than the last. He smiled, releasing her breast to sweep those fingers along her stomach. She held her breath as he brushed along the curve, then crouched before her.
“I love this bump. And I know you think you’re getting fat, but let me tell you something,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her navel, his hands curved on either side. He caught the waist of her leggings to slip them down, to let them puddle about her ankles, and when he looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes were soft and tender. “I am in awe of what you’re doing, Leda. Mahal, there’s a child in you. We did this utterly amazing thing and here’s the proof.”
His words washed over her, the amazement in his voice almost visible and she pressed her lips together as they trembled. To hear him phrase it that way… it wasn’t anything she ever expected. She caught his face between her palms, let her thumbs just graze along his cheeks. “We didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head. “I don’t, Leda. It doesn’t matter if we set out to do this or not. We did it. And to watch this, to see this as it plays out… You just can’t possibly know what it feels like to me to see this amazing thing you’re doing. And do you have any idea how much I love you, Leda? Any idea at all?”
“Because of this?”
“Yes and no. I mean, I was already falling in love with you. I’ve told you that. But if you think I would trade this for a roomful of Jäger shot girls, you’re crazy. You’ve ruined me for all women, Leda. And I don’t care how how much weight you gain with this baby, and I don’t care if you never lose it. You will always be the hot girl who pulled off Route Seven to help me get my Ford POS back on the road. You will alwaysbe the hot girl I leaned into and kissed after getting my ass handed to me at shooting pool, and you will alwaysbe that same hot girl who felt the need to apologize because her bra and panties didn’t match the first time I pulled her clothes off, and you will always be her, Leda. Always. And those shot girls don’t even come close to touching you, amrâlimê.Not even close.”
He slowly stood and she bit down on her bottom lip as he caught her by the wrist and guided her hand to him, to the erection he already sported. “Thisis what you do to me, Leda. I can’t fake that. I can’t make it happen at will. You know that.”
“I’m also standing here topless. In my underwear.”
“And you look really fucking good, baby.” He hooked a thumb in the lace of her thong and tugged, smiling as the garment slipped down over her thigh.
Her heart skipped a beat as he sank to his knees before her, dragging her thong down to her ankles. He caught one foot gently and lifted, easing the lace from around it, then did the same with the other. Then, he leaned back, pressing a kiss into the fluff of dark blond hair between her thighs. He nuzzled that fluff. Then, with just the tip of his tongue, delved into it to slowly caress down and around her clit.
“Thorin…” His name was an airy mist on her lips, her hands sliding down into his hair as he leisurely swirled about her clit, teasing her slowly, deliciously. Each caress rippled through her, sent sparks of sweet pleasure swirling through her. His hands slid up along the backs of her thighs, his fingers gently pressing into her with each teasing flick.
Her hips did a slow roll toward him, each pass melting her core just a bit more. Hot and sweet, the sensations rippling through her made her shiver, made her tremble against him as little by little, the delectable pleasure built. He took his time, in no hurry at all as he stroked her so perfectly, brought her to slowly to the edge of madness, that as each knot tightened, she moaned a little louder, twisted her fingers a little tighter in his hair. The slow melt burned thorough her, turned her knees to jelly and her blood to smoke. His tongue was slick and hot, rough and gentle, to send fire licking right long with him. He moved along her clit, over it, down to her opening and back, each caress hotter than the last, each one moving her closer to the edge. With every moan, every slow arc toward him, he responded in kind, pleasure spinning through her, sparkling and dancing like a live wire to make her quiver around him.
Everything inside her clenched as he moved faster now. Faster. Harder. The knots grew even as they tightened inside her, fire hot and sweet as it blazed through her core. He licked harder still, and slid a finger inside her, crooking it to just touch that one sweet spot where she ached the most.
“Ooh…” Leda couldn’t hold back her moan, her fingers twisting harder in his hair. It all felt far too good to keep quiet, to not let him know just what he did to her. And oh, lord, what he did just felt so fucking amazing.
He shattered her, bursts of starlight erupting before her eyes as she crested the peak, as the wave crashed over here, as she came in a fiery flash of desire and need, pulsing and clenching about him, coming and squirting at the same time, the sensations spicy hot and sinfully sweet at the same time as he continued tormenting her with his skilled tongue and gifted fingers. She rocked to meet him, desperate to draw out every last drop of pleasure he could give her.
She shuddered and moaned, fighting to get away as the sensations overwhelmed her, but he wouldn’t release her. He continued his onslaught until she erupted once more and almost screamed, “Thorin!” as her knees buckled and she collapsed against him, almost sobbing from how good it all felt.
“I love you,” he growled, rising once more. He bent to her, seizing her lips with his in a kiss so furious, so hot and demanding, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see smoke billow between them.
She wrapped her arms about his neck, caressing his tongue with hers, drawing his back into her mouth to tease as his hands fell away from her. His belt buckle rattled as he yanked it free, as he yanked open his his jeans and tugged out his cock.
He snaked one arm about her, lifted her easily, pinned her between him and the wall as he guided himself inside her and slid deep, his first thrust hard and powerful. She wrapped her legs about his waist with that first thrust. His lips found hers, devoured hers, damp with her essence and sweet with her taste and she savored it as much as she did the taste of him. She throbbed all around him, on the verge of another orgasm without any warning. It robbed her of her senses, of her ability to speak or see, to do anything other than to feel.
“Thorin…” His name was a husky cry as he surged hard and fast, his entire body shuddering with each thrust. Her thighs tightened against him, her walls gripped his cock, squeezing and pulsing in time with his quickening thrusts.
He arched hard against her, lifted and lowered her against him as he did, growling, “Oh, baby… thisis what you do to me… Oh, holy fuck.. Leda!”
He thrust hard, buried himself as deep inside her as he could, and crushed her against him with a low, satisfied moan as his body emptied into hers. He shuddered against her. Rocked her against him. And when he finished, he cradled her as he staggered back and sank into the armchair in the corner, his arms tight about her, her name a breathless whisper on his lips.
She fought to breathe as she collapsed against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms about her and just held her until his heartbeat slowed and she went still against him. “Thorin… oh… oh, my god…”
“Yeah.That’swhat you do to me, mesmel. Holy, shit… you turn me inside out, beautiful girl and trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
She sat back, chuckling as he actually whimpered. “You didn’t even take your jeans off.”
A sleepy smile lifted his lips. “I was too close and all I cared about was being inside you. Mahal, you have absolutely ruined me. I hope you know that. No other woman could ever do what you do to me. Not ever.”
“If you expect me to apologize…”
He let out a soft laugh. “No. I expect you to tell me the same.”
“You have ruined me, Thorin.” She curved her hand against his cheek. “I thought you knew that.”
He offered up a sleep smile. “It’s still nice to hear on occasion.”
“I love you,” she murmured.
“I love you, too, Leda.” He opened his eyes and offered up a tender gaze. “And if those shot girls really bother you, I’ll cancel for tomorrow.”
She sighed softly, tracing a circle into the black cotton stretched taut across his chest. “How much revenue did they bring?”
“Believe it or not, we did about ten percent higher sales than any Saturday in the last six months and fifteen percent over what we did this time last year.”
“Then I’ll suck it up. They’re good for your business.”
“My business. Ourfuture. I’ll be able to support you and a couple of kids if we keep going this way. And I’ll be able to do it easily.”
“A couple of kids?” She smiled, her hand curving about her stomach. It found its way there on its own more and more these days.
“Yeah. Two. Maybe three. We’ve got the room. Pub’s doing well. You can stay home if you want, or we can afford daycare, whichever.”
“Oh, damn… I hadn’t even given any thought to that.”
He smiled, shifting just enough to slip from her. She bit back a wince at the trickle of spend accompanying his withdrawal, and with a soft grunt, he rocked forward and stood, then moved to set her on the bed. “It’s up to you, Leda,” he called over his shoulder as he retrieved a towel from the linen cupboard in the hallway and brought it back to offer to her. “If you want to stay home, I’m cool with it. If you want to go back to work, still cool with it.”
She sighed as she dabbed at her inner thigh. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
He whisked his tee shirt over his head, and the sight of him, in just the undone jeans, was enough to make her sigh. Damn, he looked amazing in Levi’s. It was almost criminal, how handsome he was.
Balling up the tee shirt, he fired it toward the laundry basket by his dresser, then tugged off his jeans as well. “It’s up to you, mesmel,” he said, stretching out alongside her. He turned toward her, his cheek pressed into his folded hands, and let out a low whistle. “Damn… you look good like this.”
She smiled. “Wiping jizz off my legs?”
A low chuckle rolled toward her, followed by his murmured, “Naked.”
He lifted his head and stretched to brush her lips with his. He shifted further still, and she couldn’t help her laugh as he pinned her on her back, and moved to cover her completely. “Mahal, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, dipping to nuzzle her.
Her eyes closed, the damp towel forgotten as he brushed a sensitive spot just below her ear with a kiss. She felt silly for getting so upset earlier. She knew how he felt about her, and now, as his beard scraped so gently against her neck, against cheek, she shivered and whispered, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
For the first time in her life, she said the words without fear. For the first time in her life, she said them because she felt them. And they still weren’t enough to convey what she actually felt for him. Not by half.
His lips swept lightly over her ear, his, “Tell me,” a playful whisper.
The gentle touch and even gentler whisper sent a shiver through her, her eyes closing as he left a teasing trail of equally soft kisses down along her neck. Her thoughts muddied with each caress, her ability to concentrate on anything other than the sweet tingles he brought to life almost impossible. She sighed, her head lolling to the right as he moved into the curve of her shoulder, then lifted his head to offer up a smile. “Leda?”
“Oh, you make thinking difficult, you know that?” She curved her hand against his cheek. “And I couldn’t possibly begin to describe it, Thorin. I just… you are the only person I ever want to have sleepovers with.”
His laugh came as a warm caressed, followed by a light kiss, then he lifted his head and gazed down as he said, “Same.”
He bent back to her, brushing his lips along the inner curve of her left breast, down over her stomach, where he paused. She traced her fingers along the waves of his hair as he swept a light kiss across the curve and she couldn’t hold back her smile when he murmured, “I cannot wait to meet you, you know. And…”
With that, he lapsed into khuzdul, whispering words she could only barely hear, and didn’t understand, his lips just brushing her skin with each one. It was a sight to see, and as she stroked his hair, she murmured, “If only those shot girls could see you now, sharing secrets with your unborn baby. Their ovaries would explode on sight.”
“I want Junior to know the sound of my voice,” he said, lifting his head to smile at her.
“He will.” She tucked a long curl behind his left ear. “He absolutely will.”
The bed squeaked softly as he came back up to stretch out beside her. He took the discarded towel to fire into the laundry basked, then settled back, easing an arm about her. “Do you feel better now?”
“About the shot girls?”
“About the shot girls.”
“More or less, yes.”
“Good.” He shifted to nuzzle her, and added, “Maybe tomorrow night I can finally get you up on that pool table?”
“Thorin!”
“What? You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you on it that first night.”
“Trust me. I know exactlyhow badly. You really can’t hide it, you know.” She smiled up at him. “And you can’t fake it. It gives you away every time.”
“I notice you haven’t said no.”
“We’ll see.”
“We’ll see. It’s not a no, so I can live with we’ll see.” He shifted back onto his side, cradling her against his chest. “We really should get some sleep.”
****
Sundays were generally quiet at the Dunraven, but Super Bowl Sunday was another matter entirely. By one o’clock, there wasn’t an empty table in the building, even though kickoff wasn’t until after six.
The Jägermeister girls didn’t bother Leda at all, not even when Miss Perfect Brunette shot her look. Threesome. Fuck her. She wasn’t sharing Thorin with anyone. Not that it seemed to matter, as Miss Perfect Brunette seemed to be just as annoyed with Thorin, which was funny to watch because she had to be careful what she said or did around him.
Thorin came out of his office and back behind the bar. “I’ve got two possibles coming in to interview for Lacey’s job, Zane. You want to sit in with me?”
“Me?” Zana glanced over at her. “Why not Leda?”
“She’s only been here a few months, you’ve been here eight years.”
Leda smiled as Zana’s expression grew slightly pained. “It’s okay, Zana. He and I talked about it this morning. I don’t want this responsibility, so it’s all you if you do.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to step on any toes.”
“You’re not.”
“If you’re really sure…”
“Zana, I am. Really.” Leda’s cell rang, so she dug it out her pocket and when she turned it over and saw the name and contact picture, she froze.
“You okay, mesmel?” Thorin asked, his brows pulled low.
She nodded, kicking the call to voicemail. “I’m fine.”
“Who was it?”
“Just… spam…” Leda shoved her phone back into the pocket of her leggings and move down to the far end of the bar, where Jimmy had been displaced from his usual stool. “Whoa… I didn’t recognize you down here.”
Jimmy glowered at the kid who’d commandeered his usual spot. “He’s in it. Card his ass.”
“I will. He looks like he’s about twelve. Can I get you your usual?”
“Naw… I’m moving uptown, Miss Leda. New barstool, new James.”
“Oh, so it’s James now?”
Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. You still wasting your time with Durin? Or do you want to give James a chance?”
“Oh, love, I’m still having his baby and I’m still pretty crazy about him as well, so…”
“Damn. Well, can’t blame a fella for trying. Can I get a Shock Top?”
“Whoa, James, a Shock Top? You feel okay?”
He grinned. “I’m sick of the same thing every day.”
“You got it.” She snatched up a pint glass and held it under the Shock Top spout. “Are you interested in anything to eat? Special Super Bowl menu today.”
“Can I see a menu?”
“You know you can.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it as she retrieved a menu for Jimmy. “I suggest the sausage and peppers. Dori’s outdone himself today, judging by how good it smells.”
“And everything makes you sick right now, doesn’t it?”
“Just about, yeah.”
“That speaks volumes about those sausage and peppers. Sold.” He smiled as she set the beer in front of him. “Start a tab for me?”
“You got it.”
Her pocket buzzed again and this time, Thorin was behind her when it did. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“Nope. There’s no one I want to talk to who isn’t right here.” She smiled at him over her shoulder.
But he didn’t smile back. Leaning against the shelves holding the liquor bottles, he folded his arms over his chest. “Who was it who called before and why don’t you want to tell me?”
“It’s nobody, Thorin, that’s who.”
“Leda.”
“Really. It’s nothing.”
His stare never wavered and although she tried to ignore it as she turned back to the customers, she’d swear she felt his eyes boring straight into her back. Her phone buzzed a third time, and then her voicemail chime went off, and still, she ignored it as she put Jimmy’s order into the POS system.
“Leda,” his voice was low and serious, “a word in my office?”
“Not now, Thorin,” she said without turning around, “we’re getting slammed.”
“Amy can take them.” His hand came to rest at the small of her back as Amy came back behind the bar. “If you don’t mind.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare pull rank on me.”
“I’m absolutely pulling rank.” He looked over at Amy. “We’ll be right back. Yell if it gets reallycrazy.”
Amy nodded. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” Thorin gave Leda a gentle nudge.
She moved, gritting her teeth as she walked around the bar and down to Thorin’s office, where she sank onto the sofa while he closed the door. “What’s going on, Leda?”
“Nothing is going on.”
He leaned against the edge of his desk. “Who are you avoiding and why?”
“Thorin—”
“Who is it? You went white when you looked at your phone screen the first time it rang. Why?”
She sighed, sinking against into the sofa’s stiff back. How on earth did she and Thorin have sex on it, when it was so damn uncomfortable? And why did thatthought pop into her head?
“Leda,” the vinyl crackled as he sank beside her, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She leaned her head back, turning to look at him. “It was my mother.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know what she wants and it’s been at least two years since I last talked to her. So…. I panicked and sent it to voicemail.”
“Did you listen to the voicemail?”
“No.” She shifted to tug her phone from the pocket and let it just sit in her lap. “I don’t want to.”
“You want me to listen for you?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He reached over to take the phone from her thigh and toggled to her voicemail. With a soft sigh, she leaned her head against his shoulder as he hit play.
“Leda, it’s Ma. It’s been a while and I was just thinking about you. I hope everything is good with you. Give me a call back if you feel like it. My number hasn’t changed.”
Thorin looked over at her. “That’s not so bad.”
“No. But she’s not one hundred percent dick, either.” She traced her forefinger along the length of his thigh, over the slight bulge of his quadriceps muscle, along the solid rise of it along his outer thigh. That muscle was solid, no give beneath her fingertip, and when she traced down into his inner thigh, a smile came to her lips at his soft groan.
“Careful,” he told her, his hand coming to rest atop hers to still it, “you give me a boner and I’ll expect you to do something about it.”
“You’re almost forty years old, Mr. Durin,” she told him with a grin, “surely you have more control over your body than that.”
“Ordinarily, I would, but with you? Not so easy.” He winked. “Do you want to call her?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I should?”
He shifted, draping his arm about her shoulders, and tugged her again him. “I can’t answer that, mesmel. I don’t know her. And what I doknow of her makes me want to choke her, so I’m probably not the best person to ask. What does your gut tell you?”
She closed her eyes as his fingertips brushed along her upper arm. “I think I should at least tell her she’s going to be a grandmother.”
“Do you want to call her now?”
She turned the phone over to stare at her home screen, which was a picture she’d taken Christmas morning of him and Conan stretched out on the sofa, watching A Christmas Story, and was one of her favorites. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll go back up front and cover for you. Take all the time you need.” He pressed a kiss into the top of her head, then pushed up from the sofa.
“Thorin?”
He paused in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
She smiled. “Thorin?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He winked and softly closed the door. The silence settled around her, thick and heavy. She stared down at the screen, tracing over Conan’s left ear as she debated whether or not to call her mother back.
Then, she drew in a deep breath and picked up the phone to toggle to her mother’s contact information, and hit call.
“Leda.”
“Hi, Ma. I saw you called.” Leda tried to concentrate less on the roar of her pulse in her ears and more on what she actually wanted to tell her mother. It had been so long since they last spoke, and it ended in an argument, so she wanted to tread carefully. Trouble was, treading carefully was never her strong suit.
“It’s been while. What’s going on with you?”
Leda glanced over at Thorin’s desk, at the black leather racket draped over the back of his chair. She pushed up from the sofa and moved to sink into his chair. “I’m good. I’m in North Jersey now, in this cute little town. And I—uh—I met someone.”
“So what else is new?”
Leda leaned back in the chair, smiling as the scents of sandalwood and eucalyptus teased her nose. “No, this is different, Ma. I’m living with him. And—”
“Does he have a name?”
“Well, yeah. Of course. His name’s Thorin. And he owns a pub and—”
“Another boss, Leda?”
She gritted her teeth at the smirk in her mother’s voice. “I just told you it was different, didn’t I?”
“The only difference I hear so far is that when he’s done with you, you’ll be out of a job and a place to live. Two birds, one stone.”
Her mother’s words brought a tightness to Leda’s chest, one she tried to ignore as she cleared her throat and tried again. “You’re wrong, you know. This is the real deal.”
“The real deal. I’ve heard this before, Leda. And—”
“We’re having a baby, Ma,” Leda broke in softly. “In July.”
Silence. The roar in her temples grew louder and for a moment, Leda thought maybe her call had gotten dropped. “Are you still there?”
“I’ll be damned,” her mother said softly. “You finally got knocked up. I thought it would have happened a lot sooner than this.”
“That’s what you have to say? That’s it?”
“What else shouldI say? You finally managed to trap a guy. Good for you. But, are you sure it’s his? Is he sure it’s his?”
Her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. “I thought you might be happy, actually. And I didn’t trapanyone. He’s asked me to marry him, and—”
The door opened and from the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin standing in the doorway. She swallowed hard as her mother then said, “I’ll believe that when I see the actual invitation.”
She looked over at Thorin and shook her head. “Well, I won’t keep you, then. I just thought you should know.”
A low sigh and then her mother said, “I appreciate it, Leda. Take care of yourself.”
With that, her mother clicked off and Leda didn’t know why she expected anything different. She tossed the phone onto Thorin’s desk and with a low sigh, buried her face in her hands.
The floor squeaked as he came over. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I don’t know why I thought this conversation would go any other way.” She pushed up from his chair. “It’s probably crazy out there, so—”
He caught her, wrapping her in his arms to pull her against his chest. “I’m sorry, mimûna.”
“Why do I try?” she murmured, letting her head come to rest against his chest. His heart beat softly beneath her ear, beneath the black long-sleeved tee shirt he wore, and it was the most comforting sound in the world at that moment. “Why did I think she might actually give a fuck this time?”
“I don’t know. But, you tried. I know you, Leda, if you hadn’t, you’d be wondering what if forever. Now you know.”
“Yeah.” She rested her chin against his chest and looked up at him. “I know.”
His eyes were soft, his arms tightening about her. “Even if it sucks, it’s better to know than to wonder.”
“I know, but… damn, it really does suck.”
“Yeah. It does.” He bent to brush her lips with his, then held her a few minutes more before breaking the comfortable silence with, “I hate to play boss man with you, mesmel, but it really is getting crazy out there.”
“I know.” She pulled out of his arms and with a soft sigh, let him steer her back out behind the bar. They were three deep and Leda was grateful for the crowds to help take her mind off the things she couldn’t change no matter how hard she tried. She hated the fact that after all these years, and after all the things her mother had said and done, her mother still had the power to hurt her so badly. Leda hated it, hated the fact that she could still be so hurt by this woman. It made no sense, how she could insulate herself from just about anyone else on earth, but somehow, her mother alway found the chink in her armor, always found the crack in the foundation, and was able to worm her way through it and straight into Leda’s soul to make her doubt everything all over again.
Well,almosteverything. She gazed over at Thorin, laughing at something with Jimmy, and smiled. There were some things she didn’t doubt in the least.
Thorin Durin and how he felt about her topped that list.
Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.
Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.
Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing…
Summary: Leda takes a pregnancy test…
Pairings: Pairing: Modern!Thorin x OC Female
Characters:Thorin, Leda, Zana, Lacey
Warnings:Some minor angst, results of a pregnancy test
She hated foil packaging. Her hands trembled as she fought to tear open the packet holding the first of two pregnancy tests. It took her a good three minutes of wrestling with it to get it to fucking tear and when it gave, the entire package split and the stick hit the floor. A sour taste flooded her mouth. She had to pee badly enough that she was afraid she’d do so on the floor if she threw up.
But she managed to tug off the plastic cap and get the stick between her legs as the floodgates opened, then winced as she got her hand in the process. One, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand. Three, one-thousand…
She recapped the stick, then reached to set it on the counter, let nature take its course, and cleaned up, all the while counting in her head.
Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.
Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.
Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing…
Summary: Leda finds her simple, iron clad rules are quite as simple, or ironclad, as she once thought…
When Leda opened her eyes, it was to see pale sunlight streaming in through the windows behind the bed. The rays danced across the dark gray comforter, bounced across the pale gold maple floors, and splashed the wall across from the big, comfortable bed.
