#dwalinxoc

Not a single soul was to be found on the streets of the city carved out of the rock at that late hour. Perhaps he was the only dwarf after all the exhausting hours of that damned day who could still stay awake or find the strength to walk through those narrow tunnels late at night. But because it had been such an exhausting day, he felt the need to get it over with as quickly as possible and to assert his right to throw himself between the sheets of his bed and sleep for the few hours he was allowed to. Talking to that one dwarf, however, seemed an impossible task that night, Dwalin was not at his home. Thorin had spent nearly ten minutes there, knocking incessantly on his door, and so now he found himself walking to the only place Dwalin could be found at that hour: the forges, their forge, the only place in the Ered Luin that they had managed to build without a hitch in the twenty years they had been there, the only place where Thorin could feel a little less like a king in exile than he already did.

After all that time Thorin still felt like one, a young king in exile, even if he was not a king at all. It had only been a few years that they had been in the Blue Mountains, yet, he already felt the weight of time on his shoulders, already felt old even though he was not.

Even though Thorin was not a king, he was treated like one and the dwarrowdams saw him as one.

He had noticed it long ago, how they looked at him, how they longed for him, how after a night spent in the sheets of an inn or at worst pressed up against the rough walls of a corridor, they worshipped him as such. They called him king while he was on top of them and inside of them and he loved it. But then they all ended up wanting more than one night from him, and he wasn't willing to give them that. A wife wasn't something he wanted.  He could do without the warmth of a woman's thighs if it meant bonding and he didn't want to bond, a loss he would never suffer again of that Thorin was sure.

Breathing heavily and now feeling his nerves on edge, he turned his head as he infiltrated the corridors of the market, now completely emptied: the long sheets that decorated the tunnels, from coloured were just bland, dark spots above his head as were the carved windows at the side of the corridors. He turned a corner towards the craftsmen's area and amidst the bluish gloom, a bright light from a window caught his eye, causing him to look up at the only unmarked door in the entire underground marketplace: Dwalin was indeed in the workshop.

What in Durin's name was he doing there in the middle of the night?

Moved by fatigue and impatience, Thorin lengthened his stride, lifting the sleeves of his blue shirt to his elbow, sighing, and without even waiting for a signal or knocking, he opened the door to the forge.

What he saw certainly didn't astonish him, but it did impress him enough to keep his hand clawed at the wooden door handle.

The entire forge was barely illuminated by the orange light from the furnace still crackling at the back of the room, creating sharp shadows on the stone floor and giving him a perfect view of the spectacle that was unfolding on the table at the side of the forge where he worked almost every day.

On the wooden plank next to the anvil, once covered with tools now completely thrown on the floor, two moaning figures were clinging together, rubbing their half-naked bodies against each other and making the wood beneath them creak with every single movement.

Dwalin was holding a woman sitting with her legs spread above the table, clutching at her buttocks under her skirt with both his hands. His tongue almost completely shoved down her throat, while she was moaning softly into his mouth, clutching at his bare ash-stained hips with both her legs. It was not at all difficult for Thorin to notice her hand inside Dwalin's breeches and how it moved slowly up and down, so slowly that the king felt a shiver of frustration run down his spine.  

For some strange and absurd reason, he found himself entranced for the first time by this scene that he had seen happen more than once in other situations with other dwarrowdams, but a sudden low squeak from the woman stopped his gaze on the small naked body clinging to the doubly larger one of his best friend.  

Thorin could not tear his eyes away or even cough to make himself noticeable, he clenched his jaw and his hand around the knob, finding himself subduing a growl in his chest and a heavy breath soon after.

He ran his eye from the small, slow hand hidden inside the brown fabric to her arm exposed by the transparent soutane. He ran his gaze over the full chest clearly visible through the transparent fabric to the backward sloping neck that allowed Dwalin to pounce on one of her breasts like an animal. He bit it with such force that he blocked her hand's movements inside his trousers and made her moan his name in such a sensual way that Thorin could hear that moan inside his loins and in his goal that suddenly became as dry as the crotch of his trousers tight, annoying him.

Damn.

He clenched his legs together, blocking the hand that was already going to rest between them to hide his bulge: now was not the time, there was something else to think about and then he would be going to take a cold bath as soon as Dwalin gave him a look.

But Dwalin didn't seem to cooperate, nor did Thorin's eyes, which widened as the female's back bent backwards, pulling the fabric of her.

petticoat down revealing both of her breasts.

Dwalin squeezed her buttocks, dropping his mouth even further down and grabbing a nipple left bare by the fabric with his teeth, making her almost squeal as he began to torture it with his teeth. And it was at that moment that Thorin had a full view of the face of the creature for whom his friend was not even looking at him: the smooth skin, the taut shoulders, the small neck, the unruly brown hair so long they touched the table, the half-closed eyes filled with small tears, the flushed cheeks devoid of hair, as well as her mouth wide open with pleasure with the outline devoid of any kind of beard.

And it was that last detail that was more powerful than any cold bath ever could have been. Thorin's hand, which by now had moved on its own to his annoying erection grasping it through his trousers, suddenly moved away and clenched into a fist at the side of his thigh. He felt his trousers get looser, the pulse in his throat slow and the disgusting rise.

A human, Dwalin was banging a filthy human inside their forge.

A female human.

He gripped the door handle hard enough to feel it go into the palm of his hand, and violently slammed the door shut behind him, looking away from the human to Dwalin who, unlike him, was far from disgusted as he continued to suck on her breasts as if he were a hungry bairn.

He didn't even seem to realise he'd walked in but knowing the dwarf he knew he'd heard him, but the truth was that for Dwalin, Thorin might as well have been rotting at that moment and the member in his breeches, now so taut it almost hurt under Eyia's attentions, if it could have spoken, he would have told him as much.  Responding to Thorin in the fastest way he knew, he ran his tongue over the taut nipple, running his lips and tongue up the defined line of her shoulder. She began to gasp with impatience and in a moment, he captured her lips again, sinking his tongue back into that tasty palate that tasted like a different fruit every night. At the same time, Eyia's small hand, first resting on his shoulder, gripped his crest, entwining her fingers tightly in his hair, making him roar inside her mouth as she squeezed his member with the same strength.

In Durin's name that human would have driven him mad one of those nights, but to the King of Erebor that little game was beginning to get on his nerves.

Clenching his jaw Thorin walked unconcernedly to the side of the room and without a word sat down with his arms crossed on the wooden chair where he usually threw his dirty clothes after work, apron on the opposite side of the table where that vicious act Dwalin was engaged in was taking place.

"I need to talk to you. " He told him, trying to keep his eyes focused on his friend's profile, who as soon as he noticed his insistent gaze broke away from the human's lips and turned his head towards his own.

"I am a little busy at the moment." He retorted throwing an eloquent look towards his hand around the human woman's outstretched leg and, as if to underline what he meant, the woman rubbed her femininity against Dwalin's thigh meowing like a cat in heat.

Repugnant.

With disgust and indifference, Thorin shook his shoulders letting his back go even further to the chair.

"I can wait." He retorted in Khuzdul not wanting the human to understand one more word from them.

The dwarf warrior gave him a dirty look as soon as Thorin let go of his back to the chair and crossed his arms in anticipation, raising an eyebrow wryly: he couldn't even for once give him a freaking hour off, all that work would kill him sooner or later as well as his composure and that damned look of indifference.

Dwalin had to bite his lip, holding back a groan between his teeth as Eyia's small fingers moved up his member until they grazed his tip. Slowly she began to stroke it with small concentric gestures which she began to imitate with slow movements of her pelvis making him feel how wet she was, riding his leg slowly, moaning into his hear his name and making him hate Thorin insistence even more.

"Do-we-really-need-to-do-this-right-now?" Dwalin roared at Thorin, barely managing to keep his hands fixed on Eyia's thighs in the meantime that she again let her hand go even further down his trousers.

"Dwalin, please." She whispered pleadingly in his ear licking his earlobe rubbing herself against his leg again. "Please."

Following her, with his blue eyes, Thorin let out an annoyed snort as soon as the girl in one smooth movement freed Dwalin's member completely from the fabric of his breeches accompanying him past the loose leather straps caressing his entire length right before his eyes.

"She is human." He pointed wryly, clutching his forearms outstretched at the girl's insolence.

"I know what she is." Dwalin retorted, barely suppressing a groan as Eyia mischievously began to slowly kiss the side of his neck, swiping her wet tongue under the hairline of his beard as fast as she continued to torture his erection.

"Why?" Thorin asked, beginning to grow impatient that the girl didn't even mind his presence and continued unconcernedly, moaning into his friend's chin.

"Why not?"

"Because she is a human!" Thorin roared back, retorting something that was more than obvious to him.

Dwalin rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a modicum of control, which was very easy for him especially if instead of a pair of tits he had to look at Thorin's unyielding face and instead of hearing moans he was instead forced to hear his irritating tone berating him for a problem that had been his and his alone for years.

He knew why Thorin was scolding him: all his life the idiot had lain only with dwarrowdams, as they had all been taught since they were only boys, as the true tradition of their people dictated. But Thorin seemed to be the only one who still followed that idea, and since they had left the villages of Dunland, it was as if that thought had become even more ingrained in him. If only that idiot, bound to his damned traditions had known what it was like to be between their thighs, and Eyia seemed intent on making him understand that or at least make Thorin feel so uncomfortable that he would get them both out of the way.

That was why Dwalin adored her, why he wanted her every night, why he craved her thighs so much that he had rotted the guards at the entrance by paying them to let her infiltrate the halls most nights. That lustful, rebellious human tavern-keeper from that night in the city of men had become his favourite poison, and the taste of her cherry in his mouth had become tastier than any beer he'd ever drunk.

Marred the dwarrowdams and their ostentatious purity and devotion. He adored his human.

"You are too stern, you always are." He scolded Thorin with a hiss but was unable not to sneer as he cast a glance underneath him to the stiff, rosy nipple pressed against his pecs indulging what he already understood to be Y/N's desires. "Have you ever seen one of them without their clothes on?"

With a snort, Thorin rolled his eyes again in annoyance. "She is nearly as tall as you."

"Only if you keep staring and trust me it's the last thing ya notice when you are on top of them or...behind them." Dwalin snickered, looking him straight in the eye even as he slowly moved up to Eyia's shoulder, kissing her as she reached up to his ear, biting it under the earring.

"He is boring you were right." A single whisper that made him grin against her rosy skin and made him make perhaps the rightest decision of his entire life.

Dwalin licked his lips as he continued to look at Thorin, and with a sharp movement, he passed the hand still clinging to Y/N's leg underneath her petticoat, lifting it all the way up and revealing her open thighs and belly still pressed against the now soaked fabric of his breeches.

Thorin thought still tried not to look, was compelled when he saw Dwalin's hand full of scars, like his own, began to stroke her inner thigh with the back of his hand in front of him. "They have a body as sensitive body as a virgin one. Sometimes I am even afraid of breaking when I touch it. They're the hardest metal I've ever dealt with."

As much as the king had tried to control himself, he couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek when with the pelvis of the human went for Dwalin's touch again spreading her legs wide just for him.

When Dwalin noticed how Thorin was staring at his hand, he smiled triumphantly: perhaps giving him a little demonstration before blowing him up wouldn't be such a bad idea. The dwarf warrior shifted his gaze from Thorin's increasingly tense face to the face of Eyia resting on his shoulder before he leaned back with his torso from the table, allowing Thorin to see what was to follow.

Slowly he brought his hand up to Eyia's throbbing pubis, and knowing how she would react, he brushed his thumb over her opening making her legs spread even wider. He lowered his touch until he flowered her engorged, wet clit. Eyia moaned softly against the beard on his neck and in a spasm of pleasure, she pulled her hand away from his member grabbing his wrist: like an obedient virgin, the way she wanted Thorin to look at her and all just to get him out of her slit.

She glared at him : she knew she'd go crazy, she'd freak out, probably kick Thorin out in a bad way and in Durin's name that would turn him on more than any moan she could ever get out of her mouth.

Thorin Oakenshield, hunted by a human from his own forge.

"They adore us ya know, human maids." Dwalin whispered, turning his gaze to him and grinning out of the side of his mouth as the human's small hand tried to push his friend's hand down even further. "It is something I can't even explain, they look for our bodies as it's the first time they see man, they touch us as we are melted gold." She told him turning her head towards the human's rubbing her lips against the small ear covered by the unruly wisps. "By my beard..." Dwalin murmured hoarsely as he felt Y/N getting wetter and wetter under his fingers to the point of dripping. "She pends from my lips and limbs, as I am Mahal myself sometimes." He murmured more to himself than to Thorin.

"Of curse she does, you are paying her." Thorin retorted, making his friend grin in satisfaction as he looked at him again.

"I am not, Eyia is no whore she is an innkeeper from the human village outside, the innkeeper who offers the sweetest ale in all of this damned Valar-dominated part of the world." He commented hoarsely as he continued to look at him, but Thorin's gaze remained fixed on Dwalin's hand.

The friend of his, biting his lip, let his middle finger in between the two wet folds slide inside her, just enough to get only the tip of his finger in but enough to make her moan with so much satisfaction Thorin felt that nagging feeling press into his trousers again, growing more and more.

"So you are courting a human in a forge." He muttered, lowering his arms to try and cover his shame as much as he could manage.

"I am not courting her we just keep each other company until the sun rises every two nights when you are not inside this damned workshop and I have a moment's peace."

At those last words, Thorin could no longer remain silent or still, forcefully he held his forearms glaring at him. He could have accepted that Dwalin had taken a shine to a human, and even justified his sneaking her in. He wouldn't have approved but he would have understood, instead, he let her into their city only to bang her every other day.

She suppressed a small growl but was unable to keep from gritting her teeth furiously at each other. "So you are sneaking a human maid into these halls with-"

"You can also speak directly to me you know I am not invisible."

Finally, Eyia couldn't take it any more, that game was taking too long and knowing that they were talking about her in that deep, scratchy language, now after those long weeks even familiar, was driving her out of her mind.

She had been good, patient but Dwalin's finger between her legs was no longer enough and in those few hours she had free in the night, Eyia wanted to feel more than just his fingers and hear those words in Dwarvish only whispered into her ears between thrusts.

Pulling her lips away from Dwalin's strong neck she lether face go gently against his chest and entwined both arms around his shoulders, finally glancing down at the end of the table at the annoying interlocutor. She knew very well who he was, she could guess who he was, but at that moment it could have been Aule himself and she would have treated him the same way.

Eyia felt Dwalin's chest move up and down as his rough and deep chuckle resonated into the room, while on the other side the other dwarf remained silent, crossing slowly his legs while an irritated snore passed through his lips.

"You have a sharp tongue for a woman."

"Many say so, they say I tend to give voice to my though too many times."

"That's why Dwalin likes you then." He retorted, grinning out of the side of his mouth as he glanced behind her, clearly referring to Dwalin who was still holding his hand between her legs, teasing the entrance with the tip of his finger.

But Eyia weren't in the mood at that moment at all.

"He likes to talk, a lot actually, more than me even sometimes." She retorted aggressively, raising an eyebrow as Eyia slowly dropped her hands towards the step and gripped the edge of the table.

Oh yes, he liked to talk, especially as he watched her get dressed. He kissed her with his rough lips, he kissed every spot he hadn't touched enough during the night, rubbing his rough beard over every inch of her body and more than once, in those chats, she'd overheard them while his head was between her legs and she had to hold on to his black hair looking at the tattoos on his head.  

And those little discussions were also the reason she knew exactly who she was facing, the one Dwalin liked to call the Pride Bastard, or in some rare moments, his king.

Sceptically, Thorin raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. "He doesn't speak a lot to me, that's why I came here, because I needed to talk with him, but he was busy, with you."

"Then maybe he prefers my company because or you are just a silent person or just boorish...I think more the second choice. " Eyia hissed, totally voicing her thoughts as she turn her upper body totally towards him, not at all ashamed of her condition. How her breasts were totally in his sight, as well as her belly almost completely exposed if it wasn't covered by the side of her thigh.

He was the one who had stayed if her body was going to give him any trouble he might as well go away and let her continue her night with Dwalin without any further ado on his part.

Thorin clicked his tongue again, but this time through his blue eyes partially covered by the pitch-black wisps Eyia could see a spark ignite, a spark that made her womanhood pulsate between her legs and hold her hands on the surface of the table almost crawling over it.

"Yes, you tend to use your tongue a little bit too much for my tastes." He pinned the dwarf down, narrowing his gaze and spreading his legs over the chair in a fluid motion, settling even better: oh no, he wasn't leaving, not now.

And for all the Valar, he was annoying, he was boring, he'd used a tone since he'd walked in that even if she didn't understand it was capable of sending her into a rage, but she'd be a liar not to admit he was the most beautiful dwarf and man, and elf she'd ever seen. Dwalin was gorgeous, he had aroused her instincts the first moment Eyia saw him sitting at the tavern table. Powerful, rough, mischievous, but with a gaze that showed all the gentleness that could conceal the dwarf still well placed between her legs at that moment. A carnal, hard, violent beauty: his scars on his body, his arms covered in those tattoos she could have looked at and kissed for hours, his broken nose, but Thorin was a different kind of beauty. One she had rarely had the opportunity to see, a beauty as cold and dark as his hair that began to make the inside of her legs throb once more. The fine lips, the sharp eyes that were eating her alive at that moment, the backset as if he were not sitting on a wooden stool in a forge but on a throne. The taut, stocky muscles that darted beneath the regal yet humble blue shirt he was wearing crumpled at that moment. The dark hair on his chest rising slightly towards his square jaw covered by a short, unkempt beard the same colour as the long, black hair loose on his powerful shoulders. That voice, for all Valar, that hateful, haughty voice, that was making the hairs on her back stand up in annoyance but so deep and authoritative that it seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth, tangling with her own.

"Good! That's exactly what you want." He grasped the steel handle tightly. Ivy could see the muscles bulging in his arms, which sent a wave of heat all throughout her body. "Again." He broke her infatuated stare away from his arms and to the sword he began to hurl towards her. She dodged right as he swung left, the steel smacking the ground with a high pitched ringing. Ivy lunged forward, her head fully capable but her body failing miraculously. Her foot had caught on the other and sent her head first into Dwalin's chest. He caught her with a huff, and for the first time, she was pressed against him. She could feel the sweat that had began to form underneath his tunic, his arms wrapping around her tightly. They waited in that position for a moment, both soaking up the feel of eachother's bodies.

"Dwalin," Ivy whispered, her breathlessness palpable.

"Yes?" He replied, out of breath himself.

"You're crushing my ribcage." She heaved out of tight lungs.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately let her go, and she rested on her sword to regain her strength and her breath. "I think that's enough for today." Dwalin started towards the sword rack, his cheeks turning slightly red.

"Alright, Master Dwalin. Tomorrow? Same time?" She asked, practically jumping in and out of her boots.

"You're going to be the death of me!" He laughed as he wiped down the handle of the sword.

"Why is that, Master Dwalin?" She stepped towards her trainer, who was now obviously blushing. Who would have thought that the head of the guard would be blushing at the sight of a small dwarrowdam?

"I'm too old to be getting up this early anymore, but alas, you have a busy schedule, Lady Ivy.” He placed the sword back in it's place and moved on to the next.

"Master Dwalin, you are not much older than I. I think you are just starting to become a grumpy old dwarf at a young age." She laughed, placing her sword in it's place on the rack. "It's all that worrying you do."

"I do not worry, I hardly have time for worrying." He glared at her out of the corner of his eye, but the hazel eyes had caught his attention, leaving him short of breath and out of words.

"We both know that you should take a day off once in awhile, Master Dwalin." She smoothed out her tunic and grabbed her bag. "So, tomorrow at the same time?"

"Yes, Lady Ivy. Same time, same place. Except maybe we'll do archery tomorrow." He replied, turning towards her.

"I thought you never cared for archery?"

"I thought I would mix it up some." He winked at her, she rolled her eyes as she always did at his jokes and waved goodbye. He watched his trainee waltz out of the room, dragging his heart behind her.

"Thorin, I must speak with you." Dwalin practically barged into the King's Hall, the sweat beading on his forehead. Thorin was sitting behind his desk, a piece of parchment in his hand and his reading glasses on the tip of his nose.

"Yes, what is it Dwalin?" The king's eyebrows furrowed in both curiosity and worry. "Not something too terrible, is it?"

"It-it's a private matter." Dwalin leaned in. Thorin's eyebrows now rose in confusion. "I can trust you, can't I Thorin?"

"Why yes, of course Dwalin. You're one of my closest friends." Thorin replied, dropping the parchment on his desk. "What is it?" Dwalin paused for a moment, mustering up his courage.

"Now, you mustn't tell anyone, alright?" He sat down across from Thorin. "You have to swear to me."

"Dwalin, I swear on the whole of Erebor itself that what you are about to tell me will never leave this room." Thorin raised his right hand to truly swear it. "Now what is it?" Dwalin paused again. If he followed through with what he came here to do, there would be no turning back. Lady Ivy was one of the many dwarrowdams that had been specifically invited to Erebor for Fili and Kili. She was one of the ladies who was potentially going to be courted by the princes.

"Hypothetically, if I thought someone was particularly interesting, how would I go about telling that person?" Dwalin shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"What do you mean by 'interesting'?" Thorin took off his glasses, and set them on the parchment.

"You know, they're very interesting." Dwalin gestured with his hands. Thorin stared at him with complete and utter confusion all over his face. He let out a long sigh, there was no easy way to do this. "I'm very fond of someone."

"You mean like, fond of someone?" Thorin said, bouncing his eyebrows up and down.

"Yes, if you put it like that." Dwalin tightly crossed his arms over his chest. "How would I tell this person that I am fond of them?"

"You must see this person often to be this fond of them, why not just say it to them?" Thorin leaned back in his chair.

"It's not that simple, Thorin. She's too perfect to ever take a liking to me." Dwalin, frustrated and angry, jolted from his seat and paced the length of the desk. "I just want to tell her, to know that she could never love me." Just as Dwalin finished his last word, Fili and Kili popped their heads in the door.

"Did I just hear Dwalin say love?" Fili asked, his face scrunching up in a disgusted manner.

"I think I heard the same thing, Fee." Kili answered, looking to his disgusted brother. "Is our rough and tough Dwalin going soft on us?" The two made their way into the room, seating themselves in the chairs casually.

"Please, do come in." Thorin said while rolling his eyes. The two princes giggled as they helped themselves to the fruit on their uncle's desk.

"No." Dwalin's cold voice shook everyone. "I'm not growing soft, you dimwits. I was talking about.... the guards." Dwalin's pause was not reassuring to anyone in the room, but Thorin played along.

"Yes, we were discussing the guards." Thorin agreed. "One of the guards has become too close to one of the noble dwarrowdams. We were discussing what to do about the matter."

"Oh, right. The ones you invited here for us." Fili said, kicking his feet up on the desk.

"The ones that are positively boring." Kili rolled his eyes. Thorin smacked Fili's feet off his desk and glared at the two.

"Now, the BOTH of you will be nice to these young maidens." Thorin ordered them angrily. "They probably don't like you just as much as you dislike them."

"We'll talk later, Thorin." Dwalin nodded to the king and slipped out the doorway, just thankful that Thorin had played along with him.

   Dwalin was dragging his feet down the long hallway towards the King's hall, his heart in tow behind him. He had to cancel his morning training session with Lady Ivy, King's business he had told her. They both knew that it was not true, but Dwalin couldn't bear the thought of seeing the way her thighs moved beneath her trousers and her breasts beneath her tunic. Even the thought of it drove him mad. With a heavy sigh, Dwalin knocked on the door to Thorin’s office.

     “Come in.” Thorin's voice came muffled from behind the door. Reluctantly, Dwalin swung the door open. “Ah, Dwalin. I'm glad you came. Please take a seat.” Dwalin did as the king instructed, but with dampened spirits and heavy feet. There was a silence for a moment, both unable to think of anything worthwhile to say.

   “So, how fond of her are you?” Thorin finally broke the silence.

    “I'm not sure, Thorin.” Dwalin rested his head in his hands. “My heart races when I see her, my body heats up, I sweat like a pig. I feel as if I had just ran a thousand miles when she walks in the room. And that’s when I see her. When she’s gone, all I think of is her. The way she walks, and how she talks, and her laugh.”

“Ah.” Thorin leaned back in his chair, assessing the situation but also afraid to tell the suffering dwarf what really was going on. Thorin sighed deeply, and began to explain. “I think you are in love, my friend.”

“Love? That’s not possible.” Dwalin argued, his head shooting up out of his hands. “I can’t possibly be in love.” Dwalin, angry and confused, got up out of the chair.

“It is just a theory, Dwalin.” Thorin rose to join his friend. “It may or may not be true.”

“How do you know what love is like?” Dwalin turned to his friend, the sincerity and kindness in his eyes made him look like a completely different person.

“I have had my fair share of affairs, Dwalin.” Thorin smiled to himself as he reminisced in the memories. “I was not always as serious and honorable as I am now.”  

“I think we all know that first hand.” Dwalin teased him. The mood had lightened significantly with this exchange. There was another silence, the two of them at a loss for words.

“Whoever this dwarrowdam is, she must be one hell of a girl.” Thorin headed towards his desk.

“It’s Lady Ivy.” Dwalin finally confessed, his head feeling slightly lighter but his heart still clouded. Thorin sat in his huge puffy armchair behind the desk, his face unmoving as Dwalin confessed to him. He was expecting more of an outburst from the king, as the object of his affection was one of the many noble dwarrowdams that had been invited to the kingdom for his nephews.

“Are you not upset with me, Thorin?” Dwalin asked, his heart thumping like a jack rabbit in his chest.

“I am not upset with you, Dwalin.” Thorin smiled at his friend, relief filled Dwalin as he relaxed some. “I knew that neither Fili or Kili would take a liking to any of the noble dwarrowdams. Inviting them here was merely out of courtesy and maybe to get those two off my back for more than 5 minutes.” The two let out hearty laughs.  Dwalin, feeling slightly better than he had before, headed towards the door.

“Thank you, Thorin.” He nodded to the king. Thorin gave him a nod back, and continued to read the parchment on his desk. Dwalin paused just before going out the door. “You’re still holding your promise, right Thorin?”