This is my reply to @gwen-ever‘s ask. Thank you so much 💙💙💙 I got really inspired by this one and, well… see for yourselves 😉
Relationships: Thorin x Reader
Rating: M (it will turn into E at one point)
Warnings: none
The Masterlist
* * *
All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 1/10
“Twenty percent off our regular iron ore price,” you state your offer firmly.
“It is not possible, my lady,” his low, rumbly voice reverberates against the walls of the chamber.
“Twenty-five,” you offer. You won’t give up that easily. Especially not when the prosperity and safety of your home, Iron Hills, is at stake. And especially when it comes to the legendary King Under the Mountain. You have heard a lot about him since he reclaimed his birthright and the kingdom of Erebor for his people five years ago. Some said he was cantankerous, others – that he was as stubborn as a mountain goat, and some – that he was a great warrior, while the elderly dwarves claimed that he was as skilled strategist as his grandfather. Everyone agreed on one thing: Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, had a temper. Unfortunately, none of those pompous bastards cared to mention how impossibly handsome he was.
Now, he is sitting across the table in a meeting chamber of Erebor, slowly shaking his head in disagreement. A vertical line of a frown cuts through his forehead. Though no crown graces his temples, he emanates a distinct regal air. One glance into those piercing ice-blue eyes of his and no one can doubt who is the king here. The dark mane of his hair, almost as black as a raven’s wing, cascades down his shoulders. One of his temple braids brushes against his bearded cheek. You can’t stop yourself from admiring his thick beard braid clasped with a bead made of silver and sapphires. The King of Erebor is both a formidable and an alluring opponent, but you don’t plan to budge.
“Twenty five percent, and we will deliver the final product to Erebor on our cost: blast furnace-cleaned, refined, high quality iron ingots straight from the Hills, ready to work with. This is my final offer, Your Majesty,” you repeat your generous proposal.
“My lady, I told you already: this is out of the question. The Forge Masters of Erebor will never divulge their secrets, not even to their kin in the Iron Hills,” he stands up. King Under the Mountain or not, he has a nerve! You grind your teeth and rise from your chair as well.
“Every secret has its price,” you try once more, reminding him of an old dwarven saying.
“Are you suggesting, Lady Ragna, that my Forge Masters are for sale?” He rumbles at you in that deep voice of his. How dare he speak such things?! And how dare he make your knees weak with every word he speaks? His voice makes you think of wild honey, malt beer, and a stormy sky at midnight. In moments like these, you are glad that he calls you by the official name you chose for yourself when you came of age, a widespread dwarven custom. You keep your real name secret; only a handful of dwarves know it. According to a legend, disclosing your true name to another Dwarf binds them to you for life, but also grants them power over you.
You take a few steps towards him, your hands clenched into fists. No way in seven hells of Morgoth you’d show your weakness to Thorin, son of Thrain.
“I am proposing a trade deal! Erebor needs our iron and we need those long-range crossbows against the orc raids!” you throw your hands in the air, gesticulating forcibly to stress the importance of your words.
“The only deal Erebor is prepared to enter into with the Iron Hills at this point is as follows: our gold for your iron, the customary trade exchange,” he bares his teeth as he speaks, their white, even rows contrasting with his dark, lush beard, reminding you of a feral beast. And now he glares at you too. Perfect.
“But this is the exact same deal we have been renewing every year for the last five years!” you protest loudly.
“Indeed,” he articulates this word slowly and crosses his arms against his chest. There is a mysterious glint in his eye as he looks at you, but you don’t care at this point. You want to smack him in the face and wipe off that haughty smirk from his lips.
“The times have changed. We need weapons, not gold!” you protest. He clearly does not understand a thing!
“You may take it or leave it. Your choice, Lady Ragna,” he looks at you pointedly, makes a short bow, and leaves the council room. This is when you realize that the negotiations are over. Bloody, cantankerous, stubborn, too handsome for his own good king of all seven Dwarven Kingdoms!
It had been only a few weeks into the long venture back home into the Blue Mountains, unfortunately, the weather had turned south and the mountains were too treacherous to continue on foot, luckily however you both had managed to find a secluded cave inside the side of the mountain.
It seemed to be an old passageway that was used to transfer water through the mountains to the village below now it was nothing more than a flooded cave. You looked out to Thorin who helped you move into the cave covering himself in the fur cloak. He went toward the back of the cave seeing how the further in the less likely the cold could reach.
"There is a stairway leading down. If we follow it we should be able to rest easy tonight."
"Let's hope there is some rope or torches to start a fire...otherwise we won't be able to eat."
Thorin offered you his hand and helped you down the stairs which led to a room that seemed to once hold equipment but now it was barren. Luckily the water had not reached the leftover wood.
You sneezed and noticed Thorin was coughing, the cold rain and sleet had chilled you to the core. The fur on his cloak was almost frozen and your skin was slightly pink from the chill in the air. Quickly you grabbed some of the wood and used some flint to start a fire, luckily the opening from the stairs gave enough air for the flame to not die out.
The sudden feel of a hand on your shoulder made your skin grow warm and a bit of a flutter in your heart. It was no secret to any of the others that you felt deep emotions for Thorin. You were always afraid to let it be known, you felt that he never really wished to be in a relationship or at least had no interest in anyone for the moment. But you always saw him in a different way than the others and he in turn did with you.
Many saw him as a prince or a warrior, someone who was supposed to be regal and a symbol to all as one of the best. But not to you, he was simply Thorin, the man you loved faults and all. In all the years you knew him from a boy to now, you never saw him as a prize to be won.
You watched as he placed one of the blankets over you and turned around.
"You...you should undress, we'll both get sick if we stay in these clothes. You can use the blanket to cover yourself when you're finished."
He nodded to you with a small smile. As he walked to the other side of the cramped room and began disrobing. Immediately you looked away, as much as you wished to look you knew it would be wrong without his permission. You gripped the blanket a little tighter as you removed the wet clothes underneath, you felt the chill from your skin slowly disappear as the heat from the fire and the idea of being nude in front of Thorin didn't help. You clung the blanket closer to your body blushing at the idea.
You could hear him shifting as you saw he was covered in a fur cloak around his body as well. He sat next to the fire and gestured for you to join him. You sat beside him adjusting your legs so they were a bit closer to the fire. The warmth from the fire made you smile a bit as you enjoyed the silence. You looked to the side to see he was lost in thought. It's been hard these last few years and you could see it on his face.
"You should get some rest Thorin..." you said gently as he came out of his trance and looked at you.
"I can't...haven't been able to sleep for some time."
"Thorin..."
"Every time I close my eyes I see that slug of a dragon, my kin...everything that has happened."
You said nothing as he hit the ground with his fist in frustration. He was always on the front, trying to save anyone he could, you knew if it was possible he would have done everything to save every soul on that mountain. You hated seeing him like this. In the heat of the moment, you brought your arms around his chest, carefully minding his nudity still looking away as you brought a gentle hand down to his fist gently squeezing it for comfort.
"You always do this...you always put yourself down when you don't deserve it."
You nudged your head into his cloak and felt his body slightly became a bit tense from the sudden affection.
"You have done every single way possible to help them, how many lives did you save that day leading them to safety?..."
The small moment of silence was brought on with Thorin bringing a hand to yours at his chest enjoying the warmth from it.
"You've done more than enough Thorin... So please don't say such things...it breaks my heart to see you like this."
Thorins eyes were fixed on the fire ahead but his thoughts were there in that moment as he turned his whole body to you. You moved from him slightly as you noticed his eyes were fixed on yours, your whole body became just a tad bit warmer from it. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his heartbeat, strong and true.
"Y/n..."
"Every hardship and burden you must carry...you dont have to do it alone."
You gave a quick smile as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you closer. The cloaks around both of you falling from both of you, he didn't seem to care though and you couldn't lie. Neither did you.
You felt him gently lift your hand to his lips, your breathing quickened as his kissed the back of it. You couldn't help but smile as his face showed a calm expression as he turned his attention to you.
"Your smile brings me so much joy. It is only with you that I feel like this."
"Thorin..."
You brought your other hand to his face as you inched closer and closer, Thorin however was the first to close the gap between the two of you. His lips pressed against yours, they were so warm. The touch from his hands holding you closer, skin against skin making you both feel as hot as a dragons fire. The cold air which was at first unbearable, now a welcome relief.
You couldn't think for a moment as his lips left yours. If was like heavens themselves took over in that one moment. You smiled to yourself as you laid your head down on his chest feeling his heart beat quickening. You felt him lay both of you down onto the now fur covered ground holding you close.
This time when he was close to you he decided to take a risk and see if you were really interested in him by putting his hand on your lower back. You brought your gaze up to met his, but then blushed and turned your gaze away. Soon you looked up again, moving in closer and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter against his body. You wanted to get even closer to him, but it wasn’t possible. He caressed you, but you wanted more and he knew it.
Thorin moved his head away for a moment as he smiled at the sight before him. He leaned closer and kissed you tenderly. The kiss made shivers run through your body. His soft lips on yours were almost too good to be true. He caressed your lower back which made you push your hips closer to him. You wanted him so badly, in a way you had never wanted anyone else before. The kisses quickly became more intense but then Thorin broke the contact.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked. He had to hear you say it, even though the way you touched him didn’t leave much to speculate.
“Yeah”, you said eagerly. “But you should know I’m not…experienced.”
“You've never laid with anyone?”
It was definitely a surprise to him. He knew many suitors asked for your hand in the past but to know that he would be your first. It made a sense of pride but also protective instincts to arise.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle”, Thorin reassured with a soft voice. “I promise.”
You nodded and gave him a smile. You felt Thorin’s gaze wandering over your body making you blush and almost wanted to cover yourself. His hands on your waist were warm, his touch gentle and confident, but you felt insecure.
“You are so beautiful, y/n”, Thorin murmured, making the red deepen on your cheeks.
You weren't just shy about him looking at you, but also you looking at him. Even though you didn’t dare look at him openly, you couldn’t help but admire his body from time to time. Somedays in the training grounds you would catch a glimpse of him, but you never looked too long, you always felt it was wrong somehow.
You brought your hands to his chest, you could tell that your touch was making him more aroused by the second and your longing was slowly growing more and more. When your hands wandered from his chest to his face, he pulled you against himself and kissed you passionately once more. You answered the kiss, relieved that he could no longer look at your body without hindrance.
You wished this moment would last forever. It didn’t, of course, and after a few kisses Thorin started to move downwards again, pressing kisses on your neck as he fondled your breasts. The kisses became more passionate by the second a he brought a hand down passing over your pussy, you could feel his fingers slowly and gently rubbing your most sensitive area, slow soon turned to fast as the nerves made your whole body almost go into shock.
The feeling of two fingers entering your made you gasp out loud as you gripped onto even tighter than before leaving red claw marks along his back.
After a few seconds you felt your pussy pulsating as you moaned and squirmed as the warm waves went through your body. When the orgasm subsided you reached out to Thorin. You wanted him inside you now , you wanted another orgasm like that.
"More?" Thorin asked teasingly, caressing your inner thighs with a small smirk on his face.
You couldn't speak, you could only manage a nod as he guided his cock to your entrance.
You moaned again as you felt him inside you, filling you up, stretching you out. He leaned over you and kissed you as he began to move. Your hands wandered over his skin. Your needy touch turned him on even more, if possible. He tried to be as gentle as possible even though he wanted to be more rough with you.
Thorin pressed kisses on your neck, whispered among his breaths how beautiful and desirable you were, how much he wanted you and how good it felt to be with you. His deep voice made your head swim and shivers run down your spine. The cold winds nipped at both of you as the lingering flames spread the shadows of every moment onto the walls. Your fingers delicately glided down and traveled between the grooves and valleys of his abs, left hand tracing shapes on his arms and using your right hand to stroke his lower abs softly.
Looking up you started to admire the curves and angles of his face, each divot and scar on his body of varying depths, either from orcs or friendly sparring. You started caressing his face, moving his hair away from his forehead to plant slow, meaningful kisses on it. Your kisses started soft, but quickly grew heavy. Letting your lips linger on his cheeks and jawline before gliding further down, shuffling your body so you were able to kiss his chest.
“mn, oh...ngh..”
Your hands kept clutching at his body for any support, not any help to your body violently rocking to the hard stone floor. You could see it in his eyes, he wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, his muscular body shadowed over yours. You just couldn’t keep control of your self, his cock fucking into you even rougher than before made you spew your moans which echoed against the stone walls.
"Mahal, Y/n…" he murmured. He slipped a hand between both of you and gently slid a finger over your folds, rubbing your already slick clit. He kept going, giving you an intense second release in close succession, and you clung to him. Breathlessly, you kissed him, shaky with aftershocks of the two successive intense orgasms.
"Thorin…" You threw your leg over him, reaching for his cock with a gentle, sure hand. He turned under you, so you were now straddling him, as he ran his hands up your thighs, squeezing them in lustful appreciation. You brought a gentle guiding hand to your center, and he easily entered inside you once more, stretching and filling you in the way that you so desperately craved. You moaned softly, He started slow, your hands planted on his chest for stability, he was completely enveloped in your heat. He reached up to touch your soft round breasts, making you bit your lip pleasure. His cock hit deep inside, as you rode him that made you want to cry in pleasure, as you raised and lowered yourself onto his cock in time with his thrusts.
He dropped his hands to your hips and began to thrust up into you faster and harder, causing you to lean back, your hands now on his firm thighs as you met his thrusts.
"Oh…don't stop, please don't stop…" you pleaded and begged, not that he would have stopped as long as you still wanted this. Your clit was getting just the right amount of contact. Suddenly, you threw your head back, mouth open in a silent scream as you came a third time, and he picked up his pace, close to the edge himself.
"Mahal, Y/n…you feel so good…!" He swore as he came hard inside your core, letting out almost an animalistic growl. You laid down at his side, his arm cradling your naked form as your leg hooked over his thigh and as you placed a gentle hand over his chest. You smiled as you felt him tugging the blankets back over both of you, and with it came the exchange of gentle, sweet kisses. And before long the secluded cave soon became comfortable as you laid together, both warm and blissful to have each other. You felt Thorin lean his head down kissing your forehead.
"Are you alright...i apologize if i was too rough."
"I'm fine...a little sensitive but..."
You sentenced was cut short as is thumbs savored the soft skin of your cheekbones, his fingertips explored the delicate curves of your ear. For once in his life, the unspeakable, glorious joy that overflowed in his heart simply left no room for concern of anything or anyone else in the world. He brought his lips to yours once more, this time it was passionate and pure.
He shifted carefully, one hand sliding down to the small of your back, pressing you impossibly close to him. The smell of him was becoming enticing with every second.
No words were needed. You knew, and he knew this feeling. This want to stay and to never leave each other. To feel the heartbeat of the other grow quicker with every look given. The feeling of safety and compassion was all he felt in this moment with you. A moment he wished could last forever, but for now. Until the storm has calmed. That would be enough. Secluded in each others arms was more than you could ever wish.
Summary: From the imagine, "You are in love with Guy and he is still pining for Marian. You cannot carry all the pain."
Comments/notes: Takes place around season 2, despite the above GIF being from season 3. This fic was requested by @sazzlep
As always, if you enjoy, please consider a reblog. If you wish to be added to my tag list for any character, fandom, or fic series, let me know.
Marian had disappeared, leaving you with the shattered pieces of Guy’s broken heart. While trying to mend your own heart, you were busy tending to Guy’s. And that pain was becoming unbearable. Shifting the weight of two broken hearts was crippling you.
Guy had left your home again at nightfall, having borne his heart to you. The woman he loved and had lived in high hopes of wooing, had run off into the forest with her outlaw lover. In the time you had known Marian, you had been on fairly friendly terms with her. But you had always been aware of her manipulative tactics, taking advantage of Guy’s feelings for her. For all those months and he had been completely blind to it, only seeing her sweet smiles as a hope for something more than just friendship.
You stood at your front door and watched his dark shape, atop a black horse, disappear into the gathering dusk. You and Guy had been close friends for years, being each other’s rock, and this has been the case since he came to Nottingham as a young man. He had been swept up into duty for the Sheriff, but the two of you had still remained close. Guy had been the one who comforted you when your mother died, and had even brought you food when you fell upon tough times. Potential suitors had come to your door, and if they had not been to your liking, it was Guy who had told them to leave.
How long could you continue this for? Every day you saw him and you felt more of your heart become warped from the inside, like a disease spreading outward. The only cure would be to take yourself out of the situation completely and sever yourself from him.
The moon was high in the sky and you remained in that spot for some time, feeling the red hot tears fall down your cheeks. All of your pain was invisible to him; in his own anguish, he had completely overlooked you.
***
Guy woke the next morning, light bursting through the window.
Realisation hit him hard that he had overslept.
He shot out of bed and began dressing quickly, only to see a piece of parchment on the stone floor at the foot of his door. Guy reached down and took the parchment, noting that there was no envelope. The parchment had just been folded. Upon opening it, he instantly recognised your beautiful handwriting. It brought a smile to his face.
Guy,
While I know that you are in the midst of deep pain, I must leave Nottingham. I plan to move back to my father’s home and search for work. I cannot carry the weight of both our broken hearts on my shoulders.
May God watch over you and keep you safe.
Leaving? But why?
Guy raced from his chambers, heading down towards the courtyard where he slipped out to the stables and collected his horse.
Once he had rode to your home, he jumped from the horse and banged on your door. No answer. Your own horse, a brown and white mare, had disappeared from the small field behind your house.
Your father’s home was a two-day ride, and within seconds, Guy’s horse was galloping through the small patch of woodland which was to the north, leading out onto the main road. Surely you could not have gotten far. Guy was a far more experienced rider than you so would easily be able to catch up to you, despite your head start.
***
The ride that morning had been pleasant. The sun was shining amidst a cloudless sky. A gentle breeze took the edge off the early summer heat. A simple breakfast was still sitting in your stomach quite nicely; bacon, eggs and freshly baked bread. There was an inn about half way, at the perfect place for you to stop, before continuing on the next day for the second part of your journey.
All morning and you had imagined Guy’s face upon opening your letter. Would he even care at all? It seemed that he didn’t. Normally Guy was up around dawn, ready for his duties. He should have caught you just before you left, but you had not seen him. And you had given your letter to Abe, one of the guards, at the castle gate, two hours after sunset. Surely Guy would have received it by daybreak.
You stopped for a quick break, taking a sip of water from a skin in your leather satchel. You sat down on a fallen tree trunk and took a deep breath, looking up at the rays of sunlight piercing through the bright green leaves.
Suddenly you heard galloping hooves coming from behind. A figure emerged from the edge of the curving path, and got larger, moving towards you quickly.
“Guy?” you whispered, feeling relief wash over you, but also fear.
Guy stopped his horse a few feet from yours and jumped from the saddle, storming over to you. He stood in front of you, his arms crossed. “What is going on?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration. His silver blue eyes were wide in irritation.
“I told you in my letter. I can’t carry both of us anymore.”
Guy sighed and sat down beside you. “Maybe you could start with telling me what you’re carrying and stop being so stubborn in carrying it yourself.”
You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “Are you sure you really wish to know? Because after I tell you, you won’t want to know me anymore.”
Guy scoffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
You looked at him, seeing that all too familiar smirk begin to form on his face. It made your heart flutter.
“If you really believe that then you know me less than I thought you did. In fact, you don’t know me at all.” His tone was accusing and full of irritation.
You could see the offense written on Guy’s face, and you reached out to take his hand. “I didn’t mean it like that, Guy.”
“Then how did you mean it?” he snapped. “You’re all I have in my life, yet you seem to think that I’ll walk away from you. Despite you being the one who was ready to walk away from me…” The words trailed off into a whisper and loud sigh.
“Do you want to know the real reason I’m leaving?” you asked. “And if you do choose to turn your back on me then that is your choice.”
Guy hissed. “I will never turn my back on you.” He pointed his finger at you in anger as he spoke.
You got to your feet and took a deep breath. “All these years we’ve known each other and I’ve been invisible to you. You’ve never noticed all the times I’ve had to smile at you but wanted to weep. You’ve never seen how I feel about you. Instead all you’ve ever seen is a woman who has taken advantage of you and used your feelings for her to get what she needed. It’s crippled me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “I love you, Guy. I love you so much and never once did you ever see it. I know you don’t feel the same way and I’m not expecting you to.”
Guy got up from the tree trunk, and without a word, curled his hand around your cheek and kissed you. The kiss immediately became wanting, needing and hot.
Reluctantly you shifted your head away and looked up at him, your tears blurring your vision. “I told you that I’m not expecting anything from you...”
He smiled. “I’ve loved you from since the first moment we met. I was always invisible to you. I valued and respected you far too much to ever overstep any boundary. I was terrified you would think I was dishonouring you. Marian became my way of letting you go, but under it all, I never could. She was the hope of something I could never have with you.”
“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and because of me, you tried to gain love in a place where you would never find it.”
“It wasn’t because of you. It was my own cowardice. I would look at her and see you, in everything she did. Then with each man who attempted to court you, I could see how impossible it was for me to ever think you’d be mine. A lot of those men were honourable and so much more than what I could ever wish to be.”
“I know you, Guy, and all you’ve ever wanted is to be loved and needed by someone. I’m offering that to you if you’ll take it.”
Guy kissed you again, and then let his lips trail down your neck. “And I will give that back to you tenfold, my love.”
***
The two of you rode your horses back to your home, watching as thick clouds began to swarm in, threatening rain.
By the time your house was visible, spots of rain began to fall.
You pulled on the reins of your horse, bringing it to a stop in the pen behind your house. Guy had already dismounted his horse, his hand reaching out to take yours. You couldn’t help but smile and giggle as he helped you down, his ice blue gaze never unlocking from you.
The two of you kissed again, the rain starting to pour all around you. The horses by now had wondered away into the small wooden shelter which was situated at the back of the paddock.
“Let’s get inside,” you told Guy.
He smiled in response and wound his arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the door of your home.
Once inside, you started a fire and put a large pot of water to boil. “I need to head into the market for food shortly. I hope the rain stops,” you told Guy, glancing out of the window. “Is there anything in particular you would like for dinner? I can cook us a meal.”
Guy never answered, but instead kissed you again.
A short time later and the two of you were idly tangled together in your bed, having just made love. You noticed that Guy seemed the most content he had done for quite some time; he had a faint smile on his face as you rested in the crook of his arm. The only sound was the tapping of rain on the roof, and it soothed you. The heavy weight in your heart had now lifted.
“Was that how you imagined our first time to be?” you asked.
Guy grinned and kissed you again. “It was so much better than any of my expectations.” He gripped your hand tight in his and then kissed your head.
“I suspect the Sheriff will be looking for you.”
“He can wait.”
You looked across at Guy as you began to slip from the bedclothes and pull your dress back on. “You’re taking a big risk thinking that. You know what he’s like.”
“I don’t care anymore. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters to me now.”
Fandom: The Hobbit
Relationships: Thorin x f!OC
Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal
Rating: E (18+)
Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it.
A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈
You can find this fic on AO3.
Khuzdul:
Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures
Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed.
Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.
Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.
And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.
That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.
Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.
Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.
After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.
“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.
“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.
“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”
Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.
“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.
He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.
He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.
“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.
“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”
“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.
“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.
“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.
“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”
“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.
He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.
“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”
“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”
A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.
“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.
“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.
“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.
“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.
“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.
“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.
“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.
“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”
“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.
This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?
Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.
“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.
“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.
Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”
“What?” she gasped.
He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.
“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”
“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.
“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.
“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.
“Aye.”
“And he agreed?”
“Aye.”
“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”
“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.
“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.
“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.
“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”
Thorin shook his head.
Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.
“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”
Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.
Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this.
He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.
“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”
She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.
“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”
“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”
“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.
“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”
His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.
Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any.
“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”
Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…
“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”
“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.
“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.
“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.
When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”
“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.
“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.
“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen.
He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket.
Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.
“Is my queen pleased?”
“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”
“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.
Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.
“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.
Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.
“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.
“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.
His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.
“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.
“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”
Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.
“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths.
As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.
As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.
“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”
“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”
With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.
“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”
“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.
And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.
Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.
***
“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.
They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.
“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while.
“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.
“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.
“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.
“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.
“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.
She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”
“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.
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Warnings: Smut, sexual references, angst, heartbreak, insecurity.
Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You spend the night with Thorin, and then out of insecurity, you leave him." Requested by @lathalea. Timeframe of post-BOTFA requested by @sotwk
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Thorin was lay beside you, his breathing slow. You watched his chest rise and fall. His dark eyelashes fluttered and his eyes moved beneath their lids. He had fallen asleep not long after your final round of love making.
You sighed. He was so beautiful, and didn’t even know it.
The night had become full of tension, which had followed his coronation celebration. Of course you attended, being a close friend of the new king. For many months and you had travelled alongside him, helping and fighting for him to re-take the mountain kingdom of Erebor. Thorin had taken you aside, complimenting you on your attire for the celebration, his blue eyes alight for you. Your first kiss had been outside the main hall, in a cold, empty hallway. Everything else that had followed was back in his bed chamber. The two of you had snuck away, hand in hand, still stealing secret kisses along the hallways.
Never before had you ever been touched in such a way as how Thorin touched you. His hot skin sent intense vibrations through you. His gaze made your heart thunder, and pulsate in other parts of your body, acknowledging just how aroused you were. His voice made sighs slip off your tongue so effortlessly.
You kept your eyes on him as he slept, recollecting the beautiful memories of him opening his heart, soul and body to you. When he had first slipped inside you, he had been over you, his large hands holding your legs open. You had welcomed him so freely in those moments. However, in your second round of pleasure seeking, you had climbed on top of him. He was laid out beneath you, vulnerable, offering it all. Those hands had been clamped on your hips, guiding your movement as the two of you ascended higher towards that wonderful, earth shattering climax. The third and final time, Thorin had been behind you. His lips remained on your neck and shoulder, showing you that even when he could not see your face, he still adored you and admired your beauty.
This was all wrong. Thorin was the most amazing man you had ever met. And you were just mediocre. Nothing special or of substantial value. You looked upon his sleeping form, studying his slim lips which peeped from beneath his moustache. His beard was neatly trimmed, despite him now growing it longer after reclaiming Erebor. That was a promise he had made many years ago. Once the mountain was re-claimed and he would grow his beard back long, as was custom with the Longbeard Dwarves.
Slowly, and you slipped out of bed. There was an ache in your chest. You loved Thorin so much more than you could ever express, but you were not worthy of his hand. A royal Dwarf deserved someone of standing and position, not a commoner like yourself.
Tears fell down your cheeks, reminding you of the man you were originally pledged to many years ago. He had told you he loved you, showered you with gifts, but made it known through his behaviour that you meant very little to him. His actions did not speak louder than his words. And, of course, his attention then swept elsewhere. Thorin would no doubt do the same. Such a beautiful soul would never cherish you and mean it! If this man from your past could not love you, then surely Thorin couldn’t either.
But you had never been touched, kissed and made love to in such a way as that! Every movement made you quake beneath Thorin’s touch, and his whispers of adoration made you shiver. Maybe he just knew how to please women and had rehearsed the words many times.
You re-dressed and slipped out of the chamber, giving Thorin one last glance. The ache hit you hard once again and you placed your hand on your mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs.
The halls were quiet and dark, with only the faint light of torchlight guiding your way. And by the time you made it back to your room, you grabbed a quill, ink and parchment. Your hand shook as you tried to write, which meant that your normally laced handwriting became more squiggled. A tear fell onto the parchment, splashing, and caused a swirl of black ink to form under your signature.
***
Thorin woke, his eyes adjusting to the dark room. He looked up at the ceiling of the room and sighed, recollecting the evening before. And as soon as he saw your face in his mind’s eye, he turned to see you had disappeared. He called your name into the gloom.
A dread hit him and his stomach twisted into a hard knot. Something was wrong.
Why would you disappear like this? Even though you could have just slipped back to your own bed chamber, Thorin felt something in the depth of his very being that told him that he would not find you there.
Thorin pulled on a robe, tying it at his waist, and made his way to your room, his mind full of questions. He didn’t even knock as he got to your door and let himself in, finding the room empty. A lump swelled in his throat. He approached your desk. A candle had been lit, and there under the flickering light, was a piece of parchment.
My dearest Thorin,
I cannot remain here. I do not belong. I will never be enough for you, my love. Go and find happiness. May Mahal bless you.
The letter was simple.
Thorin crumpled the letter in his hands, feeling a whole array of emotion wash over him. Terror and frustration seemed to form the knot in his stomach, which was now gaining momentum. Only the night before and Thorin had been on the verge of offering everything to you, a life together. That was all Thorin wanted. You, in every way. He thought that you had been willing to give yourself to him. You had even told him you loved him, shivered at his touch, become undone beneath him. The two of you had panted, sweat, groaned against each other. How could he just let all of that go?
Series Summary: You're an intern at the DA's office, finishing up your law degree on the side. When Andy Barber, the new DA, needs help to sort out a few overdue cases, it hurls you into his world, filled with conflicted feelings, emotions too deep to process, and heartache.
Series warnings: Angst, talk of divorce/separation, Laurie is a bitch, Defending Jacob didn't happen, conflicted feelings, pining, talk of cheating/being cheated on sad/insecure Andy but also confident/dominant Andy, having feelings for your boss, forbidden relationship, smut, fluff.
Series smut warnings: p in v, oral, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, petnames, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, breeding kink, creampies, cheating/relationship with a married man.
* = Smut
Parts in order of when they’re set in the story below:
Part 1
When Andy Barber needs help handling a few overdue cases, you happily offer yours. After spending some time together, you find it hard to hide the feelings your harbor for him. When you run into each other at a bar, you realize you may be in deeper than you thought.
Part 2
Andy pulls away after your shared moment at the bar, making you believe he doesn't think you're good enough. Professional lines are crossed in a major way, even more than before. And you finally meet his wife.
Part 3
Andy takes you out to lunch after Laurie interrupted your plans. Jason finally reaches out, asking you on a date. Laurie makes a suggestion that makes Andy feel even more conflicted than before.
Part 4
Andy sought refuge with you after his awful date with Laurie, and you allow him to stay at your place for as long as he needs, because that's what friends do. But when you go out to a bar and find him flirting with another woman, it seems your emotions are not in check as much as you thought they were.
Part 5*
You and Andy finally give in to your urges, losing your sanity for a fleeting moment. But as usual, reality always comes back to slap you right in the face.
Part 6*
Andy confronts Laurie and decisions are made. Lines are crossed, ones so profound, it can never be taken back.
Part 7*
Living with domestic bliss and an insatiable hunk of man feels like heaven. And it is. Right up until the point a surprising revelation is made.
Warnings: Smut, sexual references, angst, heartbreak, insecurity.
Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You spend the night with Thorin, and then out of insecurity, you leave him." Requested by @lathalea. Timeframe of post-BOTFA requested by @sotwk
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Thorin was lay beside you, his breathing slow. You watched his chest rise and fall. His dark eyelashes fluttered and his eyes moved beneath their lids. He had fallen asleep not long after your final round of love making.
You sighed. He was so beautiful, and didn’t even know it.
The night had become full of tension, which had followed his coronation celebration. Of course you attended, being a close friend of the new king. For many months and you had travelled alongside him, helping and fighting for him to re-take the mountain kingdom of Erebor. Thorin had taken you aside, complimenting you on your attire for the celebration, his blue eyes alight for you. Your first kiss had been outside the main hall, in a cold, empty hallway. Everything else that had followed was back in his bed chamber. The two of you had snuck away, hand in hand, still stealing secret kisses along the hallways.
Never before had you ever been touched in such a way as how Thorin touched you. His hot skin sent intense vibrations through you. His gaze made your heart thunder, and pulsate in other parts of your body, acknowledging just how aroused you were. His voice made sighs slip off your tongue so effortlessly.
You kept your eyes on him as he slept, recollecting the beautiful memories of him opening his heart, soul and body to you. When he had first slipped inside you, he had been over you, his large hands holding your legs open. You had welcomed him so freely in those moments. However, in your second round of pleasure seeking, you had climbed on top of him. He was laid out beneath you, vulnerable, offering it all. Those hands had been clamped on your hips, guiding your movement as the two of you ascended higher towards that wonderful, earth shattering climax. The third and final time, Thorin had been behind you. His lips remained on your neck and shoulder, showing you that even when he could not see your face, he still adored you and admired your beauty.
This was all wrong. Thorin was the most amazing man you had ever met. And you were just mediocre. Nothing special or of substantial value. You looked upon his sleeping form, studying his slim lips which peeped from beneath his moustache. His beard was neatly trimmed, despite him now growing it longer after reclaiming Erebor. That was a promise he had made many years ago. Once the mountain was re-claimed and he would grow his beard back long, as was custom with the Longbeard Dwarves.
Slowly, and you slipped out of bed. There was an ache in your chest. You loved Thorin so much more than you could ever express, but you were not worthy of his hand. A royal Dwarf deserved someone of standing and position, not a commoner like yourself.
Tears fell down your cheeks, reminding you of the man you were originally pledged to many years ago. He had told you he loved you, showered you with gifts, but made it known through his behaviour that you meant very little to him. His actions did not speak louder than his words. And, of course, his attention then swept elsewhere. Thorin would no doubt do the same. Such a beautiful soul would never cherish you and mean it! If this man from your past could not love you, then surely Thorin couldn’t either.
But you had never been touched, kissed and made love to in such a way as that! Every movement made you quake beneath Thorin’s touch, and his whispers of adoration made you shiver. Maybe he just knew how to please women and had rehearsed the words many times.
You re-dressed and slipped out of the chamber, giving Thorin one last glance. The ache hit you hard once again and you placed your hand on your mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs.
The halls were quiet and dark, with only the faint light of torchlight guiding your way. And by the time you made it back to your room, you grabbed a quill, ink and parchment. Your hand shook as you tried to write, which meant that your normally laced handwriting became more squiggled. A tear fell onto the parchment, splashing, and caused a swirl of black ink to form under your signature.
***
Thorin woke, his eyes adjusting to the dark room. He looked up at the ceiling of the room and sighed, recollecting the evening before. And as soon as he saw your face in his mind’s eye, he turned to see you had disappeared. He called your name into the gloom.
A dread hit him and his stomach twisted into a hard knot. Something was wrong.
Why would you disappear like this? Even though you could have just slipped back to your own bed chamber, Thorin felt something in the depth of his very being that told him that he would not find you there.
Thorin pulled on a robe, tying it at his waist, and made his way to your room, his mind full of questions. He didn’t even knock as he got to your door and let himself in, finding the room empty. A lump swelled in his throat. He approached your desk. A candle had been lit, and there under the flickering light, was a piece of parchment.
My dearest Thorin,
I cannot remain here. I do not belong. I will never be enough for you, my love. Go and find happiness. May Mahal bless you.
The letter was simple.
Thorin crumpled the letter in his hands, feeling a whole array of emotion wash over him. Terror and frustration seemed to form the knot in his stomach, which was now gaining momentum. Only the night before and Thorin had been on the verge of offering everything to you, a life together. That was all Thorin wanted. You, in every way. He thought that you had been willing to give yourself to him. You had even told him you loved him, shivered at his touch, become undone beneath him. The two of you had panted, sweat, groaned against each other. How could he just let all of that go?
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