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blankdblank · 1 year

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Garlic & Clover

Pt one of a mini series that is currently unfinished. Now, for this it might seem a bit hard on the Dwarves, I love them, but sadly this plot bunny was not the kindest on them at the culture habit Dwarves have to not overshare outside their trusted circles and kin. They will make nice in the end, promise. Just have to get there first.

If you wouldn’t mind let me know what you think and if you also want to be tagged or taken off the tags let me know. Stay warm and cozy out there in yoru corner of the world. :)

@theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @devilishminx328, @jesevans, @tigereyesf

...

“She reeks of garlic again,” you could hear the words echo through the stone halls. Not an uncommon occurrence, nor the silent forced grins and greeting nods of the head you mirrored on your way to an invitation only dinner at Oin’s home.

Once one of the bubbliest of the members of the Company, rules and social decorum had you back to those days at your final foster home. The one you were told you had to bear or you would be cast to a group home, the one you could never do or be respectable enough to be kept around when guests came over.

Middle Earth was nothing like the tiny flower bed of clover you had been allowed to grow up in the attic to focus on while you were pretending you didn’t exist. A magical forest like any you hadn’t seen before in your wildest of dreams. And it was there you found what your Gran would have called a sign from the Saints. A four leaf clover on which you wished in a return visit to clear out your things before they would throw them out and found yourself in the middle of a band of Dwarves accompanied by a Hobbit and a Wizard.

“I miss you,” echoed deep down in your very core to your long lost Gran and lost loved ones.

You studied hard and still it was never enough, all the way to a pair of Masters Degrees in Psychology and Linguistics. You hoped it would be enough, sent to live with one of the top Criminal Psychologists in the world and one of the most renowned masters of Dead Languages and forgotten histories contacted for the most essential of rare cases that had them living in infamy. Another notch on their belt. Another trinket to boast about and never touch.

The door opened and you smiled bowing your head to the servant who allowed you in after seeing you had brought the servant you had been forced to hire to act as your morality compass for others to see you were never alone to be improper in public situations. One who kept their distance by the very scent of you.

While your nose burned in a now tolerably miserable way behind the servant you strolled through the uncomfortably homey dwelling filled with hearty chatter and laughter. Through the roar of painful pasts you kept a grin in greeting all of these supposed friends who eyed the towel wrapped dish in the basket you bore with both hope and dread. “I brought some boiled potato slices and some oiled veggies. We can never seem to have enough.” You said convincingly with a weak chuckle the others laughed gladly at in ease for not having to relive your first dinner invitation while you convincingly held back the wish to act on this latest crack in your heart.

Four years you had lived here and still to this day the appalled looks on the faces of your supposed friends stabbed at you in a stunning refusal of your chicken pot pies in a try to surprise Thorin at his first meal out of the healing tents.

“I miss you,” again it echoed in your heart while in the taking of your seat at the table as the final guest and around the simple dish of yours free of anything personal to you or your past their clan dishes had every memory with your Gran roaring. Family dishes with hints from around the world that had tears brimming in your downward cast eyes to every bland, bitter or oily to the oddly edge of being burnt while being perfectly moist. Every bite unflattering to the next no matter how you tried it with some of the most lifeless bread you had ever tasted.

Somewhere out of the back of the apartment a soft sound of the twins Dis had given birth to had your free hands clench atop your lap in a faked adjustment of the napkin laid there. Enabling a touch of the ring on your right hand, rose gold and meant to memorialize the husband and child lost long before the pull to this world. A teardrop diamond angled at the tip out of the band that drops into a V, the band topped by small diamonds, an heirloom from your grandmother paired with the newer similarly diamond topped rounded halo band like a crown to hint to your son’s name meaning of King. War had taken the one and an infection set in by injury from an accident took the other who were buried together where you couldn’t visit anymore. Not far away from the joint plot holding the parents you never met.

“I miss you,” pooled into your chest like a slow flood of inescapable melancholy to chase off the thought you had to be cursed to lose all you loved. Not unacceptably long your hands left your lap to adjust to help you finish this meal. Muffled compliments came from those who dared to sample your safe dish while you stomached your small yet un-insulting portion.

Dessert would be next and yet still under thirty you took your required leave to return home, or at least to the four walls you were granted. Down nearer to the markets and workshops where the young lived supervised to protect their morals, even those not of Dwarf blood where you had been given lessons and chances to conform. Not one who understood how badly this hurt. Behind your door your breaths wavered as you glanced at the apron from your Smithing lessons, for which you had to change and get some rest to attend in the morning.

…

“How long do I have to bother with this? The Lass has the patience but in the time to teach her the craft her life would be spent. She’s no metal in her bones.”

Audibly for you at least the crack of the dam was heard and a glance over the shoulder of your teacher the Wood Smith he had been speaking to shifted his gaze with lips parted at the astonishing to them quiver of your lip and instant tears you forced a smile through.

On the verge of buckling to their knees at the unexpected reaction, that had every student and Master in this forge in stunned silence. All watching the folded leather apron you had intended to put on set on the station to your right. And in a frail but determined tone you said, “I am unquestionably thankful for your efforts to teach me, and I cannot put into words how painful it is to know I will never be enough to be worthy of it.”

Straight around you turned and in a flurry of sniffles and wiped away tears that had every Dwarf and namely the Dams stare your way at the unthinkable tearful young female on her way back to her protected quarters. No one had died and so there was clear fault to have stirred such a reaction and since there was no family involved one of the Ruling Clan would have to be sent to investigate.

Not that you would know them personally, as since the moment you met them it was made clear that any in depth information on family or their internal workings beyond the simplest of things such as hunger, exhaustion, or wish to smoke, play music and be merry was not permitted. Only outside of kin signaled and intention of courtship alone. So those degrees you had worked so hard for were all but useless and there was apparently no way to find employment as a therapist here.

All the way to the door you had managed to keep just a few feet ahead of your assigned shadow, and once at it your trembling hands worked the lock to open the heavy stone barrier that after another step through the small opening you said, “I plan on peeling and cooking with garlic. No need to sully your reputation any more by lingering to reek like me. I know you have plans to marry into a good clan. I won’t be leaving again today.”

The door was shut in the servant’s mid step a good six feet away and for an awkward moment they paused and waited as if you would change your mind then turned away. Inside however your face scrunched up in a collapse of that façade while you blindly found your way to the kitchen to stress cook.

Even behind tears you could feel your way on muscle memory alone. You knew just what you wanted, what she would make you. A surefire cure for a breaking heart. Garlic bread, lasagna and a ratatouille to go with it on top of several servings of a cake you had baked the day prior in some pretend game you always held as if you could be welcome to stay for dessert and intrude on time to discuss personal things.

“I miss you,” again and again the words were pressed into the dough for the bread and the making of the pasta on a press you had made yourself in now past tense lessons never to be had again. A project that had them scratch their heads along with the other tools you made to help with noodle making and other baking tools. Possibly saltier that usual due to shed tears you missed their falls while you worked the meal together, including the Dwarf loathed garlic.

Dinner wouldn’t do much as you had to eat it alone again except for the knitted pair of otter dolls you had made on your nights in when you got tired of stabbing your fingers in tries to learn embroidery.

Above the front door a small hawk flew through the messenger door that spun behind it to shut again and landed on your raised arm as the minimal counter space was already taken up.

“Hello,” you said. From around its neck you accepted the pouch with the letter inside you brought out with a soft, “Thank you,” small offering of treats and some water on top of your table you carried it to allowed it to rest while you sat down to read the letter from King Thranduil.

*.*.* Thranduil *.*.*

‘King Thranduil,

I know we only met and spoke a couple times but I was wondering if you might be able to possibly offer an official invitation so I might take up your generous request to visit your kingdom?

I understand if the offer has been revoked after all these years, yet Lord Elrond lives too far away to write to conveniently for a response.

Could you still issue an invitation anyways with a symbol of a flower in the corner to show that it is fake to just me so that I can follow Dwarven tradition and have a proper reason to be able to take leave of King Thorin’s Halls?

Either way I shall forever be in your debt.

Yours Sincerely,

Jaqiearae Pear

P.S. If you cannot recall me I am the one who kept you from treading on the ducklings between two of your meetings.’

The words across the page had the King pulled back to that first week when you had stayed in his guest rooms, fully bound and yet as the guards had tried to bring you to him the curious stares up at the architecture and questions had him curious himself and offering much more comfortable rooming for you and the Company. Moonlit snow like white unruly curls to match the deep purple eyes containing silver flecks like mesmerizing constellations on a petite body slightly taller than any Dwarf yet far too short for any race within the East only adding to his prisoner’s alluring mystery.

Just a sudden hand in the center of his chest while his eyes were on a set of pages held him in place. And that same curious stranger with that same curious innocent glowing gaze was behind that hand that held him in place so effortlessly even when both wrists were bound in mithril chains linked to a belt that could be grabbed by a guard if need be. Much unlike the Dwarves confined to their rooms between meals with the King. From your hands downwards his eyes followed yours to the smile worthy sight of a line of ducklings he almost had broken in his distraction in a shortcut through a garden.

“Why would Miss Pear imagine I would rescind my invitation?” he murmured to himself and then promptly moved to his desk to write out a lengthy invitation to be taken as open for as long as you wished.

He had crossed paths with you a few times in Erebor since then, far beyond chance of forgetting you.

The last time after being turned out after a few minutes of a fruitless trade talk when in passing he greeted you kindly and rather boldly you offered him and his group a meal. With your shadowing servant to a delicious yet unfamiliar meal the group spoke of the change of the seasons in the Kingdom to keep the known decorum.

Since that first meeting he knew there was something you wished to say and that was why he allowed you to roam at your whims and keep his best architects enthralled with someone who was hungry to learn everything they could.

With a hawk regrettably two weeks late after returning from a trip to Lothlorien he sent off his reply and hoped the wait had not been taken as a refusal to aid in most likely some time away from the strict lifestyle of the Longbeard Clan compared to that of the Silvans.

*.*.* Jaqiearae *.*.*

“There’s no flower,” you whispered to yourself in your own tongue that had the bird’s head cock to the side as you sat mesmerized that the kind King who didn’t spread the distaste for who ruled the Company you were a part of onto yourself. Across your lips a grateful grin eased that at least in all this you might have a glimmer of a friendship somewhere since Gandalf had left you here.

They were supposed to be your friends and you stupidly assumed they might smudge traditional rules to still keep daily meetings. Yet you barely caught a glimpse across the crowded marketplace or the bustling streets of Dale when you were able to shop there as they each had their own roles in the final stages of the rebuild of that ring of the city.

Now you were merely a ward of the King Under the Mountain and nothing more. Not even allowed to be employed or courted until you reached your 50th birthday and set to live off of a set allowance from the Crown as you were laughably also too young to enter into contracts and left out of a slice of the ocean of gold shaped pie.

With a sigh the knock on your door that clearly belonged to your assigned shadow had you on your feet and in a childlike tantrum stomping your way to the door you opened to find her there with a bow of her head, “Miss Pear, Prince Dwalin is here to see you.”

Through the door you stepped and at the set of chairs you were to use when meeting a fellow unmarried person alone you sat down with a cross of your ankles. Ignoring the chill of the marble floors on your bare feet and the wooden seat on your lower thighs your shorts didn’t cover, not even with your oversized flannel you had changed into from the more conservative thick layered shirts and pants supplied to you by the trunk full to keep you like the few other wards well dressed as per order of the King.

Across the small table from you Dwalin bowed his head in return for your flash of a grin and cleared his throat. “Miss Pear, we were made aware of an upsetting earlier today in the forges and we wished to settle any misunderstanding or discomfort any of the Smiths might have caused you.”

You shook your head and said, “They didn’t do anything but state the truth. I’m absolutely useless here.”

His head shook and still holding his far from familiar tone meant solely to absolve this issue on official business alone, “Miss Pear you are a ward-,”

“I am my own person!” you cut him off and his mouth parted, “A fully grown adult being treated like a useless child! You’re supposed to be my friends and I can’t even get any of you supposed friends of mine to even talk about anything of substance or try a single nibble of what foods aren’t remotely Dwarfly to sate your comfort!

I wear your clothes, eat your demanded dishes in monthly dinners, speak your language and none of you even bother to ask me what I might like or feel comfort in!

Well I’m so sorry that you all missed your home so terribly that that you can’t bother to show the least bit of respect to someone in the same boat as you! I can’t ever go home even if I wanted to and none of you have ever missed the chance to spit on my heritage or culture!

So if you don’t mind I have dessert inside and much like the last few years I fully expect to be eating all of it myself to gather strength for my trip to the Greater Greenwood. King Thranduil has issued me an official invitation and I will not do him the disservice of making him wait for my company, something nobody who isn’t paid to do so inside this mountain feels free to accept without a structured invitation!” Up you popped and promptly went inside your room. Slammed the door and huffed your way to your table to angrily eat your way through the cake until you decided to get packing to leave as soon as possible even if it meant using the river that sprouted from this mountain.

*.*.* Durins *.*.*

“We spit on her heritage and culture?!” Thorin just about growled, not out of anger at you but more for how they had slighted someone they had only meant to ever shield from harsher cultures to have been dumped upon. He drew in a breath then asked, “What did she mention about an invitation from Thranduil?”

Right away bylaws of the Wards of the King Under the Mountain were to be brought up to consult each for the majority of requirements and restrictions to see what wiggle room they could make to grant some more comfort where obviously some was lacking. Social constructs however would be hard to broach the topic of as you were still of ward age in their culture. Yet clearly the issue had to be seen to be made as flexible as possible since clearly for some time this pain had been stewing until it bubbled over today.

By the time they made it to your quarters however you would be gone.

#Thranduil x oc #therapist oc #fallen to middle earth #Deprssion #hidden pasts and skills #Dwarf culture #Durins #Erebor #Letters to Kings #healing power of lasagna #the hobbit #LOTR

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enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog · 8 months

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The Best of Intentions-

Chapter 12

Dis*

She let the tea steep a little longer than normal. She needed a strong brew to awaken her soul. After leaving Thorin alone last night with Mistlynn's unforgettable entrance, she had gone back to the feasting hall and enjoyed a couple more dances and several more glasses of wine as she caught up with Dain and Sindri. An extra boost of vigor was needed for this day.

She had been most pleased with how the night had played out. Seeing her brother laugh and dance, truly enjoying himself had nearly brought tears to her eyes. He had seemed a century younger, before all that death and responsibility had been heaped upon his young shoulders. Their talk in the courtyard had been enlightening as well. She was shocked when he said that she was stronger than him, although that sentiment could not be farther from the truth. That was high praise coming from him. She knew her brother held her in high regard, but he had always been a dwarf of few words, especially after the death of their mother.

It pained her to see him afraid, vulnerable. He had always been the strong unmovable pillar in her life, a resilient and impenetrable stronghold not unlike the mountain he ruled with an iron fist. He had always been her protector, her respite from the cruelty of the world; he stepped in and raised her boys and supported her when her Vili lost his life. He would never understand how much she cherished and appreciated him for his strength and selflessness. She could only hope that her words had been enough to soothe that fear, to encourage him to pursue something that would bring him happiness, for once in his life think of himself and put himself first.

An abrupt knock sounded at her door, interrupting her thoughts jarringly. She winced slightly before regaining her poised composure. Never show weakness, especially if it came in the form of a hangover. "Enter." She called out briskly.

The door opened and the white-blonde head of Mistlynn poked in. She had her hair braided half up and down, and she was wearing a pair of breeches, a flowy white tunic and a leather bustier of her own design. "Sorry I am late." She smiled brightly before stepping in shutting the door. "I got caught up in my workshop. Ori rescheduled our lessons for later this afternoon." She chuckled as she approached swiftly with a very confident sway to her hips as an irresistible zest radiated from her. "And just how are you fairing my friend?" she teased, her green eyes bright.

A suspicious smirk teased Dis's lips. "What has you in such a fine mood?" Her eyes scanned over her, and she quickly spotted a certain braid tucked behind her delicate ears. Dis jumped to her feet and rushed to Mistlynn, her eye wide and eager to confirm what she hoped and suspected. She touched the braid and lifted it gently with her fingers, an elated smile brightening her face as she saw her brother's bead firmly clasped on the end of the intricate braid.

An uncharacteristic squeal left the raven-haired princess as she pulled Mistlynn into a bone crushing hug, hangover immediately forgotten. "Oh, he did it! Mahal be praised! He did it!"

Mistlynn was laughing at her friend's reaction and hugged her back tightly once she was able to wiggle her arms free.

"I finally get a sister! I've been waiting for so long! Do you have any idea how long?" Dis giggled as she shook her to emphasize the point. "You guys were beginning to pain me! It was so excruciating to watch!"

Mistlynn blushed a deep red. "Was it really that obvious? Half the time I couldn't tell if he was glaring at me or offended by my very existence!"

"Oh, you were driving him mad, but not for the reasons you think! I'm sure he made it abundantly clear to you last night, eh? Judging by that betrothal bead and your blush." Dis teased, her face still beaming with joy.

"It's so surreal still. I woke up thinking it must have been a dream! But when I woke up my room was full of flowers. I've never seen or even smelled such amazing flowers before!" Mistlynn was gushing, thankful she was able to celebrate with someone other than Luna.

"I always knew he would spoil his bride-to-be, and you certainly deserve it my dearest!"

A series of urgent knocks pummeled Dis's door before it burst open as Fili and Kili rushed in. "Amad! You will never believe what I heard from Bombur, who heard from Brienne, who heard from her maid that Uncle bought out the entire flower market and had it delivered to…" The words rushed from Kili's mouth before he noticed that Mistlynn was standing next to his mother, both with joyous smiles on their faces. "Mistlynn!" both princes exclaimed in unison before hugging her.

"When is the wedding?" Kili asked eagerly.

"They haven't discussed that yet!" Dis chided, shooing her youngest off.

"A little bit soon to be discussing a wedding, isn't it?" Mistlynn chuckled nervously as she rubbed her palms against the side of her legs.

Dis, Fili and Kili all stopped talking and stared at her. She shrugged her shoulders awkwardly, "I mean, weddings are a simple affair in my kingdom. We perform a handfasting ceremony in front of our family unit and closest friends. We don't normally have the means to support a feast afterwards."

"Well, that sounds so… intimate and romantic." Dis tried to smile encouragingly but was fighting with herself how exactly to explain what a royal dwarven wedding entailed.

"That sounds absolutely awful." Kili was blunt, earning him a punch in the arm from Fili and a scolding look from his mother, "I'm sorry, I can't think of any other way to describe that! You know who you are marrying right?"

"And that marrying my uncle means you become Queen of Erebor. The first Queen since our Great Gamul Amad! That's reason enough for a huge celebration!" Fili added, not sure if breaking it gently to her was the right approach or not.

Dis nodded, agreeing with her sons. "We won't make any permanent decisions until Mistlynn discusses with Thorin what they want. It's their wedding after all, not yours."

"She's going to be our aunt! We just want to celebrate one of the few good things that has happened to our family since we reclaimed Erebor." Kili grumbled, before looking at her directly. "By the way, I am so glad you're his One. I was so scared he was going to marry someone old, and strict, and scary."

Fili laughed loudly while Dis tried to smack Kili again, who dodged it. "Bite your tongue! Your uncle is not old, Kili!"

"Could have fooled me!" Kili shot back as he crossed him arms over his chest.

"Stop it, Kili." Fili scolded as he pulled an uncomfortable Mistlynn into a side hug. "Don't worry about it. No matter what happens it will be great. My Amad knows how to throw an amazing party, whether it be small or big."

It was at that moment Thorin walked into the room, not at all surprised to see his family and his fiancé standing together. "Hhm. Now I can only imagine what this is about. I've been looking for the lot of you all morning."

Dis rushed to him. "How dare you not tell me you proposed! I only found out because I saw Amad's bead in her hair!"

"You're not my keeper Dis. I had every intention of telling you after you awoke this morning. Not my fault you slept in." He cocked his eyebrow challenging her.

"Please tell me you guys are going to have a big wedding." Kili begged, walking up next to his mother.

"Well, that is something I am going to discuss with my fiancé, not you Irakdashat. Don't you have your own maiden to go woo?"

"The wooing has been done, now I'm just waiting on a certain kingly uncle to give me the go ahead to plan my own wedding, Thank you very much. Until then, I plan on living vicariously through yours."

Thorin just shook his head, breathing in deeply while closing his eyes for a moment to pray for the sake of his sanity,

"Looks like I'm the favorite nephew again." Fili grinned, trying to get Mistlynn to laugh and help her relax.

"Enough now." Thorin grumbled, unable to help the smile that was teasing the corners of his mouth. He was looking at her now. "Has their incessant meddling changed your mind?"

Her laugh was lighthearted, and all the nervousness melted away. "They have only proven that I made the right choice."

Fili tried to subdue his smile as he stepped aside so that Thorin could approach her, granting them a small measure of privacy. "Thank you for the flowers. They were so beautiful! When I awoke, I thought I was still dreaming. I've never seen so many! How did you do it?" Her eyes twinkled, making his smile brighten.

He picked up her hand and tenderly kissed the back of it. "I have my ways." He teased.

"Ah, there are the two lovebirds!" Balin walked into the room. "The news is traveling fast; we must get ahead of it."

"The entire flower market Thorin, truly? "Dis laughed. "I'm not surprised all of Erebor is buzzing with the news."

"I had no intention of keeping it a secret." Thorin winked at Mistlynn before he put her hand on his arm before turning to face the others in the room. "What would you have me do Balin?"

Balin smiled fondly at Mistlynn. "First, I would like to congratulate the lady. I am truly happy for you both."

She beamed, her cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "Thank you Master Balin."

"Now we must discuss a date for the wedding. Sooner rather than later I gather?" his eyes twinkled. "The sooner we can get invites sent out to our neighboring kingdoms the better."

Thorin felt Mistlynn's body freeze next to him as he nodded. "I have a feeling you have a date already in mind, my friend." Thorin could see the silent conversation between Dis and Balin, he wanted to ask Mistlynn what had caused her to react in such a way but now was not the time.

"I think the last day of summer would be perfect. Gives us 6 weeks to prepare everything and give Mistlynn a proper overview of Erebor and what her duties as Queen will entail."

Dis nodded, agreeing with Balin. "I agree. It's a good amount of time for Dori and I to teach her what she needs to know and get her fitted for her wedding gown and new wardrobe."

Thorin felt Mistlynn's hand clench his arm slightly. He looked down at her to see slight trepidation in her eyes. "6 weeks is not a very long time. I fear I won't be able to learn all that I need to in that time. I was thinking next spring would be a good time?"

Thorin raised his eyebrow in surprise as he turned to look at her. "You want to wait that long?"

Mistlynn shrugged nervously. "6 weeks just isn't much time Thorin. I feel like there is still much for me to learn about your kingdom and your way of life in general. I do tend to stand out in a crowd don't you agree?"

Thorin processed her words for a moment before adverting his eyes and looking at Balin and his family. "Could you give us a moment?" He asked, his tone neutral.

"Of course." Balin nodded. "I'll be outside." He left the room, followed by Dis, Fili and Kili quickly. Kili shot them a wink before he shut the door.

"Is there any other reason other than you think you will not be prepared in that time?" Thorin asked, his tone gentle as he held both of her hands in his.

"Thorin, of course not." Mistlynn stressed, squeezing his hands with hers comfortingly. "It's just a lot you know, everything is changing so quickly. I've only been here a couple months. Not to mention my being from a kingdom no one here knew existed until I showed up unannounced. Some of your people may not like the idea of you marrying me, I am a quarter elf you know. We cannot ignore that fact. Even you knew that when we first met, and you were not happy about it either."

Thorin groaned as he released her hands, and rubbed his over his face and pushed back through his hair as he closed his eyes. "I knew that comment was going to come back and haunt me. It was disgusting of me to even call you that, I had no right! I was frustrated and confused by my feelings for you I didn't understand why you were under my skin so quickly. I was desperate for anything to keep you at a distance. But it doesn't and will never excuse me calling you that foul word. Please forgive me for that."

Mistlynn shook her head, stepping forward to put her hands on his chest, imploring him to understand. "That's not what I meant. I've already forgiven you. It's not like you were wrong, it is what I am and others have picked up on that fact. Most seem fine with it, but I know that others in your council are not going to be as understanding."

"You're my One, M'eudail. The council has no standing when it comes to that; and if anyone dares question it, they will be removed from my council and will not be welcome in Erebor. I will not stand for it."

"I will not have you tear apart your kingdom for me. You've worked too hard to build it back."

"I've worked too hard and lost too much in my life in the name of duty, I will not lose you because some old goat feels your lineage is lacking, which it isn't!" He sighed, taking a step back from her.

He paced for a moment before stopping and facing her again. "I am not as young as I used to be. I just accepted I would never find my One, that I would never have a love or family of my own. And now that I have found you, I don't want to wait any longer. I know it seems fast, but we have felt the pull, we know that we were meant to be together, to belong to one another. I want to start our life together as soon as possible."

He approached her, his eyes locking onto hers. He slid one hand along the curve of her waist and pulled her closer to him while he pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear before cupping her face. "But if you are uncomfortable with our wedding and your coronation being held so soon, I will wait. But I am afraid I cannot promise you a small wedding; it would be rude of me to not invite my people or our allies to witness our union and celebrate with us."

Mistlynn looked deeply into his eyes, her own turbulent with many emotions. Thorin sighed, removing his hand from her cheek, and taking a step back. "You don't have to make any decisions today. I don't want you feeling pressured."

Mistlynn shook her head, instantly missing his closeness. "No, Thorin. That's not necessary." She ran her hands up his chest and rested them around his neck. "Six weeks is enough time for me to acclimate. I am a fast learner, after all." She smiled coyly at him before rising on her tiptoes to capture his lips with hers. She felt the tension leave his body as he gave in to her kiss. They savored the taste and feeling of one another for a moment, before she pulled back, a breathy giggle escaping her lips. "You talk as if you're at death's door, Thorin. You are not that much older than me."

"I am 72 years older than you." He grumbled, his lips forming a slight pout as he brooded at her words.

She threw her head back, a beautiful laugh filling the room around her before she jumped up against him, forcing him to catch her as he stumbled back into the back of his sister's armchair. "Mahal knows I'll keep you on your toes, force you to keep up with me. You are in your prime you silly dwarf, I've always known I wanted someone more … mature."

Her light voice turned sensual before capturing his lips again, surprising him once again at her assertiveness. She bit his bottom lip teasingly than soothed it with her tongue, making a growl rumble deep from within his chest as he gripped her backside tightly with one hand while burying the other into her luscious platinum curls. He fought to keep his composure as she dominated the kiss as her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. He managed to pull back from her lips, desperately trying to focus on anything else other than her lips latching onto his neck directly under his jaw. "Another reason why we should get married quickly, you keep testing my resolve you minx."

She giggled, still peppering his neck with kisses before claiming his lips for one final kiss before returning to her feet and stepping back, her chest heaving as she savored the look of her fiancé absolutely wrecked and wanting while leaning against the chair. "Should we inform them of the good news then?" She giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Thorin laughed breathlessly as he attempted to stand and adjust himself. "They are probably leaning against the door trying to eavesdrop."

Mistlynn helped him straighten his tunic, allowing him to see the nervousness that flittered across her face before her mask slipped back into place. "Please tell me if you feel like your overwhelmed. I will help you navigate all of this."

She nodded, taking a deep breathe. "I know you will. And I know you sister, nephews, and everyone else will help as well. I just have to stop overthinking it."

Thorin leaned down and kissed the hair on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and snuggled into his embrace. It was at that moment she felt like she could take on the world.

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