#they lived happilyeverafterdammit

[enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog]

**Best of intentions - random snippet - beginning - playing with interaction and slow burn.

**************

Mistlynn had risen with the sun that next morning. Rosalyn had been waiting eagerly at the front of her shop, holding fresh cheese danishes for their breakfast. Her new friend was jittery with a nervous excitement as they made their way to the outside training grounds. She shared her excitement, eager to see something she was familiar with and curious to see how the Dwarrow trained in Erebor.

“Promise you won’t judge me when I point him out to you?” Rosalyn pleaded; her excitement soon turned into anxiety that grew with each passing moment as they approached the seating that was placed outside of the rings. Sounds of metal clashing against metal, harsh grunts and yells of exertion echoed and grew louder.

“Of course I won’t!” Mistlynn admonished. “You listened to me drone on about my current frustrations last night. The least I can do is support you with yours.”

Rosalyn sighed as she stuffed the final bit of her danish in her mouth. She chewed quickly as she grumbled around bits of pastry. “Frustration is right. He didn’t even come by this morning, and I set aside a cinnamon roll for him! It’s pathetic, me thinking that he could be my One when he is a member of the royal court. And I am just a bakers daughter who happens to know how to make a decent pastry.”

“Hey now, none of that.” Mistlynn scolded. “You're baking is amazing. Your cinnamon rolls alone could bring any Dwarrow to his knees in supplication.”

“Such dramatic flair this morning.” Rosalyn sighed as she stepped up onto the lower benched seating that surrounded the training rings. Above them in the higher levels sat a group of poshly dressed Dams, their hair and makeup done with painstaking perfection.

Mistlynn tore her eyes from them to whisper into her friends ear. “Am I missing something? Looks like they stepped out of some romance story.”

Rosalyn scoffed. “They are crown chasers. They follow the King and his nephews around like a gaggle of puffed-up geese. Pay them no mind.”

Mistlynn heard taunting whispers and giggles coming from behind her, no doubt criticizing her choice of wardrobe and loose hair. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, as she looked forward to focus on the warriors fighting. She nearly swallowed her tongue when she recognized who was fighting in the ring in front of them. She blinked rapidly as she fought to register that the Dwarrow’s were shirtless, and it was Thorin and Dwalin dueling.

She licked her dry lips as she looked over at Rosalyn questioningly. The blonde baker was resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she sat forward with her elbows on her knees. “The King?” Mistlynn whispered hoarsely into her friends ear, a sudden heavy dread filling her stomach.

Rosalyn snorted. “Oh goodness no! Not that he isn’t nice to look at. But no, it is his cousin. Lord Dwalin.” She trailed off, her voice getting quieter as if she was scared that others would overhear her confession.

Mistlynn couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips as the tenseness in her chest lightened slightly. She looked back as she watched them fight. It was impressive to watch, leaving no doubts that they were worthy of their fame.  She couldn't take her eyes off of him as she watched Orcist slice through the air effortlessly, if not with a sharp sense of lethal grace. Dwalin deflected his counterattacks with ease. It was obvious that they were bantering back and forth, by the way they smirked and gestured at each other. Mistlynn couldn’t help but be drawn in, biting her bottom lip to stop a smile from showing on her face as Thorin blocked Dwalin before deftly spinning and knocking him off balance. Thorin’s laugh echoed as Dwalin rolled quickly in the dirt, blocking Thorin’s attempt to make him yield.

She bit her bottom lip as she allowed her gaze to roam down his exposed skin. She had never seen a Dwarrow’s bare torso. They always trained in times the weather wasn’t harsh, but never warm enough to want to remove ones base layers.

Powerful. That was the word that came to her mind. He seemed to be chiseled from the finest stone, the scars and tattoos that covered his chest and shoulders further proof of his true might as a formidable warrior. The tattoos continued down both his arms in intricately drawn knots and runes, stopping at his wrists. His muscles moved languidly under his skin, making her swallow thickly and squirm slightly in her seat. She wanted to hate him, despise the hold and affect he had on her, but she knew it would never be possible to. She despised how this new feeling stirred deep within her, growing even more ravenous with each passing day, becoming hotter with each encounter they tried so hard to avoid.

“It’s hard to look away, isn’t it.” Rosalyn giggled dreamily. “I can’t even fully blame those blood sucking bats for ogling. I have no right to be as jealous as I am at the notion of them salivating over him.”

Mistlynn couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. She partially blamed the smoldering fire of conflicting emotions that raged within her. They needed to escape somehow, and it felt good to allow herself to laugh. She wasn’t the only one admiring someone she knew she couldn't have. It was freeing as Rosalyn joined her in her laughter. They earned some scathing looks from the twittering dams that sat behind them, but they didn’t care.

Her laughter caught in her throat abruptly when she found Thorin’s eyes catching hers with a mixture of disbelief and confusion churning in their glowing depths. She watched Thorin’s brows furrow as he slightly lowered Orcist, seemingly forgetting the very important fact that he was in the middle of a spar.

It also didn’t register to Dwalin, until it was too late, that his friend and King was entirely distracted. A sound and punishing punch landed on Thorin’s unprotected jaw, knocking him completely off his feet. He hit the ground hard with his back first, sliding a couple feet before his legs joined the rest of his body in the dirt. His arms were splayed out, Orcist spinning away from his limp, outstretched hand as the dust settled.

A collective gasp joined Mistlynn’s as she jumped to her feet, her hands covering her mouth as she watched Dwalin rush to his side. She hadn’t noticed that Fili and Kili along with the rest of Thorin’s closest friends that were known as “The Company”, had been sitting along the fence of the training pen. They dashed to join Dwalin, effectively circling and shielding the prone King from prying eyes.

“I’ve never seen him get hit, let alone knocked out before!” Rosalyn gasped as she stood with Mistlynn.

Dread settled into her gut. She wasn’t sure if anyone else had seen, but for a fleeting moment they had held eye contact, and that is what distracted him. She had no idea how he managed to hear her laugh from that distance, but she knew without a doubt that she was the reason why he had lost his focus.

**********

 *Thorin*

It had been a good morning so far. He loathed that he had not been able to give Mistlynn the peonies last night. After Dis had left his office, he had started walking to her room. He had paced outside of her door for several minutes, earning him many an inquisitive look from a couple guards and the maids finishing up their days work. He had continued to his room, admitting defeat once he had worked himself up into mess of frazzled nerves. They were still sitting in a vase on the table in his quarters this morning. He was hoping after a good morning of drills he would be able to deliver them to the dam that was slowly but surely driving him mad.

For the most part, he had gotten out of his head and was enjoying the rush that came with dueling Dwalin and his nephews. As iron sharpens iron, he had pushed himself especially hard that morning. After thoroughly sparring with Fili and Kili, Dwalin had stepped in, eager to match his energy.

“The lads were talkin about how they saw their King carryin a bushel of pink flowers. Mahal, your growin as soft and Bombur’s dinner rolls!” Dwalin teased mercilessly as they circled each other. After a couple rounds, they had tossed their sweat soaked tunics.

Their swords clashed as they rushed each other. “Didn’t realize you would be so jealous.” Thorin ground out before moving out of the lock Dwalin had him in, allowing him to take a couple offensive strikes.

Dwalin chuckled as he deflected with ease as he stepped back. “With yer little hive of yer aspirin queen bee’s that have been titterin over ye this mornin… I thought that just maybe ya pulled yer head out of yer arse and went after that bonnie little warrior of yers.”

Thorin threw his head back and laughed incredulously as he managed to trip Dwalin. His grin was wolfish as he watched Dwalin regain his footing. “She isn’t my little warrior. Besides, don’t you have your own little tart waiting for you? Once you pull your head out of your arse I might consider following suit.”  

It was in that moment, he heard her. It was a real laugh, one that stemmed from a source of joy. His heart caught in his chest at the beautiful sound, and his found himself searching for her in the seats provided for onlookers.

He found her quickly. She was sitting next to the baker that had captured his stubborn cousins heart, and she was breathtaking. Her head was thrown back as she laughed, her friend giggling beside her. Rosalyn, he reminded himself. His cousin’s One, sitting next to his, seemingly the best of friends.

Her gorgeous curly locks flowed freely down her back, glowing in the warm rays of the morning sun. She was beaming, her cheeks flushed, and her green eyes glittered with happiness.

Mahal, she’s beautiful.

Her gaze caught his and time seemed to slow. How was it she was more breathtaking every time he laid eyes on her?

He watched her emerald eyes grow wide, her full lips opening as if gasping. Why did she look so startled? He couldn't fully process that thought as something plowed into the side of his jaw, and he found himself flying backwards. He saw the bright blue sky of the morning, before his breath was stolen from his lungs as his body connected to the ground with a resounding force. Apparently, it only took a second for all of this to transpire.

His ears began to ring as he lay there, confused. He heard distant shouts and shrieks; muffled and distorted as if he was laying under water. The ringing became louder as a pounding pulse began to form in his head. He blinked slowly, trying to shake away the throbbing that was starting to pulse on his jaw. He groaned as he shut his eyes. ‘Sar em Gabura’. He growled; his teeth clenched.

“Mahal faslmaganu zharmur[KA1] !” He heard Dwalin’s rough brogue hiss from above him. “Wha were ya thinkin! Ye bleedin fool!”

“Hit me hard enough, ya troll brain?” He hissed as reality began to set in. He had lost focus, something he was constantly berating Fili and Kili on. Now, he found himself flat on his back with a splitting headache and throbbing jaw. Perfect.

He cracked open his eyes and saw the outline of ten heads surrounding him. Gloved hands came into his sight as a crooked, U-shaped hat floated above him. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He heard Bofur’s amused voice. He squinted, as if that would stop the blurry fingers from swaying back and forth.

“I am not answering that.” His words came out slurred. He knew than that if he said he counted six, he would be carted off to Oin’s infirmary.

“Mahal’s beard Dwalin! He can’t even talk straight; you walloped him good.” He heard Bofur admonish the very irate Captain.

“A dwarfling could ave blocked tha hit. Not like I snuck up on im!” Dwalin grumbled.

“Och now, he will be right as rain in a moment. Leave im be.” Gloin chastised Dwalin as he knelt down on the other side of Thorin.

“He literally wiped the ring with my sorry arse just this morning, lecturing me on not focusing.” Kili laughed, as he stood up quickly to avoid the arm Dwalin swung in his direction.

“Smart ass. Just you wait until I get up.” Thorin groaned as he forced him arms to move and rest on the top of his chest.

“I hate to break it to you Thorin, but the entire royal court just watched you get ram rodded by your Captain of the Guard.” Nori mused, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

“Exactly why he is the bloody Captain of my bloody guard.” Thorin growled as he braced his forearms on the ground and forced himself to sit up. His stomach churned as the sky and ground rolled around him. “He’s the only one who can best me.”  

“Easy now! There is no rush.” He heard Dori titter nervously from the other side of him.

He heard Kili gasp dramatically as he nudged Bofur with his elbow. If his jaw wasn’t throbbing as if it was going to fall off, he would of ground his teeth together. “She’s here.” Kili’s tone was smug. Bofur began to snicker as he wagged his busy eyebrows at his comrades.

Mahal, there is no way she witnessed that. Thorin groaned as he rolled onto his knees. He felt Fili and Dwalin grab ahold of his biceps.

“Who is here?” Dori sounded intrigued, directing his question towards a smug Kili, and still snickering Bofur.

“No one.” Thorin hissed as he pushed himself up onto his feet. He staggered slightly before Fili and Dwalin steadied him.

“That’s going to be one beauty of a bruise.” Fili teased good naturedly. “Any other dwarf would have had his head knocked clean off.”

“I don’t think that’s helping matters lad.” Gloin snickered. “Especially with his lady watchin.”

“She isn’t my bleedin lady.” Thorin spat. “Sun blinded me for a brief moment.” His denial was useless, and he knew it. More than just his jaw was bruised, his pride was throbbing as well. He chanced a subtle glance towards the onlooker seats. The dams were standing and whispering fervently amongst themselves, their fans a blur of colors that made his eyes hurt.

Then he saw her, standing next to Rosalyn, her face pinched with worry as she watched him sway on his feet. He felt his face flush with a hot shame. He rubbed a heavy hand against his screaming jaw, wincing as his hands came in contact with the dark bruise already forming on his face. He sighed in exasperation. “What in Durin’s name is she doing here?”

“Blinded by the sun my arse. Blinded by your lassie is more like it.” Dwalin snorted. Apparently Thorin had spoken his last thought aloud.

Mahal, he needed to get out of here. “Fili. Hand me my tunic and Orcist please.” He whispered with a grimace as he took a step forward. He rolled his neck and shoulders back, trying to get his range of motion back and clear his eyesight before his comrades got the idea to carry him out of the training arena. “The rest of you, continue with your drills. I��ll be fine to walk back myself.”  

They all began to protest at once. He held his hand up, trying to pin them all with a firm glare. “I’ll walk you back Irak’adad.” Fili walked up to him with his discarded tunic and Orcist. “The only ones I couldn’t best were you and Dwalin. I’ve fulfilled my drills for today.”

Thorin grumbled as he snuck a look back towards Mistlynn. He caught her walking off, following Rosalyn as they stepped down from the seating area. At the last moment she looked over her shoulder, once again catching his gaze. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but her gaze softened as an apologetic smile twisted her lips. In another blink, she was gone. He sighed heavily as he chastised himself again under his breath.

“Uncle. You alright? You're mumbling.” Fili’s voice startled him. He hadn’t realized that he had walked up alongside him, holding out his shirt for him to grab. Orcist was sheathed and slung over his shoulder along with his own sword,

“Make sure the stubborn git walks it off righ.” Dwalin barked, not fully able to disguise his concern as he watched Thorin slowly pull on his tunic.

“Quit clucking at me and finish the drills.” Thorin groused back as he took Orcist back from Fili.

“Do you want to stop by the infirmary?” Fili watched in concern as Thorin gingerly pulled his tunic back on.

Thorin started to shake his head but stopped the movement when his neck and shoulder muscles protested the movement. “No. I’ll go to my room. Take a moments rest.”

“Are you alright, my king?” A sultry voice drifted down from the stands as they started to walk towards the exit.

“All is well ladies. No need for any concern. The king has a lot to accomplish today.” Fili grinned charmingly, making them all giggle and bat their lashes demurely.

Thorin groaned as their giggles grated on his diminishing patience. “We are going to have to change our training schedule again.” He grumbled.

Fili laughed. “Or if you just accepted your One, they would no longer follow you around like a prized steed to be won.”

Thorin’s answering glare would have been lethal to anyone else, but Fili was immune to the silent threat. He grinned widely as he waggled his eyebrows. “As Amad says, the two of you will make beautiful dwarflings.”

Thorin scoffed. “Your Amad is a meddling royal pain in my backside. She should be concentrating on helping you find your One and quit trying to force my hand.”

“I am still young and have a lot of time. Your One is here within your reach and you keep barking at her like she’s one of those annoying crown chasers.”

Thorin grumbled under his breath. “I am done discussing this. Will you just please keep this from your Amad for now? At least until my head is done ringing?”

“Fair enough Irak’adad. Shall I fetch you something cold for your jaw?”

Thorin groaned as he was reminded that his jaw was still pulsing angrily. “I will not tell you no.”

Fili snorted. “Very well. I’m sure Bombur has something that would suffice without alerting Balin or Oin.”

**

He walked as quickly as possible, trying to avoid the quicker yet busier route so he wouldn’t garner too much attention to himself.  Curious looks along with hushed gasps followed him as he made his way to his quarters. He was thankful that everyone kept their distance despite the alarming sight he knew he looked.

His head was pounding by the time he reached his rooms. He sighed in relief as he closed the door behind him, the dark and coolness of his room a welcome reprieve. He placed Orcist on the entry table and trudged to the oversized armchair by the simmering fireplace. He collapsed fully into the seat and his body went limp.

It had been many decades since he had been clobbered in the jaw, but this time was a first for him to be punched out due to distraction.

Distraction from a lass, no less.

He groaned as he slouched further into the chair. There had been witnesses to his distraction, his comrades knew what had caused it. And by the way she had looked at him, worried and a little embarrassed, either by him or for him he couldn’t tell, she knew all too well that she was the cause of it.

His door creaked open quietly, before it was shut again. He could tell it was Fili by the way his steps fell, He heard a sharp intake of breath as Fili stopped by his side. “There is no question that Dwalin got you good. Your entire side is bruised Irak’adad. Are you sure you don’t want Oin to look at it?”

Thorin peeled his eyes open to look up at him. “I’m fine. Nothing is broken, I would be able to tell if something was.”

Fili held out a cooled slice of steak. “This was the coldest thing I could find.”

Thorin nodded his thanks as he took the meat and gingerly placed it on his swelling jaw. His eyes closed as he let out a sigh of relief as the cold meat soothed the angry bruise. “Thank you, Fili. Would you mind covering for me in the meeting today. Tell them something came up that I could not ignore.”

Fili snorted. “Of course. Are the documents in your office?”

“Balin has them. He will be there early so he will be able to give you a quick summation of what will be discussed.” Thorin spoke lowly, trying to minimize the movement of his jaw.

After a moment of silence, he heard Fili’s weight shift on his feet. “Why do you still have those flowers?”

Thorin’s brows furrowed in confusion for a brief moment before he remembered what flowers, and who they were meant for. In irritation he growled lowly. “I tried to give them to her last night, but she wasn’t in her quarters, and it didn’t feel right to leave them at her door.” He hissed, cursing the fact the flowers were still there and that he had forgotten them entirely.

He heard Fili trying to not chuckle. He frowned. “What, dear nephew, is so funny?” He opened the one eye on his uninjured side. Fili was looking at him with a bright grin on his face. “Not you too. Don’t say a bleeding word.” Thorin growled reproachfully.

“It’s just that first, you had a cut on your chin from her knocking you out during that chase when we first brought her back here, and now you have a bruised jaw from her distracting you at the training ring. And you have a big bouquet of flowers you saw her admiring in your room. I’ve never seen you so…” Fili trailed off as he watched his uncle raise an eyebrow as if daring him to finish that sentence. Fili shook his head, a smile still on his face.

“Never mind. I’m sure it will all work out in the end. Amad said it did with her and Adad.”  

Thorin groaned. “That was different Fili.”

“How so? She’s your One and its obvious she drives you to distraction, and you, of all Dwarrow’s are never driven to distraction.”

“You're going to be late for that meeting with Balin and the council.” Thorin gave him a pointed look masterfully with just one eye.

Fili’s grin grew wider as he patted his uncle on the shoulder. “I’ll check in on you later.”  

“No need.” Thorin groused as she shifted to a more comfortable position in his chair. “I’m perfectly fine and capable of taking care of myself.”

He heard Fili let out a long-suffering sigh before he excited his room. Silence fell around him like a heavy blanket. “Thank the merciful gods.” He sighed to no one in particular. He let himself drift, the cool meat calming his physical wounds, but his heart wasn’t so easily consoled.

 [KA1]Mahal’s hairy balls - khuzudul

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