The Thing That Should Not Be - Chapters 1-22
This is a reblog of my work originally posted on Archive of our own. Feel free to like, reblog and leave comments. Unfinished, work in progress with (bi-) weekly updates.
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield X OFC
Warnings: NSFW, sexual content, adult themes, non-con
On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982820?view_full_work=true
Summary: I`d never liked my life in the bustling city, superficial, gray and lonely, as it was. Yet what I found in the new world was far beyond words. Dark and passionate. Cruel and scary. What Thorin taught me about his reality I would remember forever.
WARNINGS! If you are not comfortable with rape/sexual slavery/angst topics, then this story is not for you. It is a dark and intense fantasy.
The water was deep and cold, black as the darkest night. It froze my senses, intoxicating me with sharp pain, biting in my limbs. I tried to scream but was silenced by the pressure and ice-cold fear that crept in my heart. I was being dragged further down to the depths. I kicked and managed to get rid of the handbag on my shoulder and moved closer to the surface in desperate need of oxygen.
Then I sensed subtle change in the atmosphere as a ray of pale light emanatied from far below. It was there for a split second and all went back to normal. I finally emerged on the surface and took in my first breath, gasping.
The lake was large and its waters dark, on one edge covered with thick mist of early autumn. I swam to the nearest bank and totally exhausted spread on the grass. It was early morning and I could sense bright sun hidden behind the white wall of clouds.
Where was the yacht gone? I blinked in surprise and searched the water for any sign of movement, familiar object, or any sound. The silence was deafening.
When I came to my senses, I decided to search the bank systematically. If the yacht sank, there must be some wreckage left, broken pieces of wood or⊠bodies. The storm had come out of nowhere, I remembered blinding lightning and scared faces. Then all went wet and cold and I was fighting for breath suddenly.
Nothing. I inhaled deeply. Perhaps they have left without me.
I remembered there was a river flowing into the lake. I followed its stream in the direction from which I remembered our yacht had sailed. After half-an-hour walk I finally realized they could not have possibly sailed away so fast.
Something was very wrong here. The trees looked unfamiliar. The landscape felt different but I could not put my finger on why. Fear and distant, hazy thought that something strange and perhaps unnatural had happened crept at the back of my mind.
I sat down by a tree and thought for an hour, waiting. Then I returned to the lake and roamed its surroundings for the rest of the morning. I ate some berries and drank a few sips of water from the lake which I had already started to hate. I waited. They must come back for me with a rescue party and dogs, that's how it's normally done, right?
As the night drew near, hunger squeezed my stomach even more and I ate all the berries I could possibly find. That will have to do for tonight. Tomorrow I would eat properly.
With sunken heart I found a hidden place among bushes and trees, shielded but still with good view of the lake. The ground was covered with dry moss, its smell reassuring. I laid my head on it and started to cry.
Of course I could not sleep. My white party dress was still uncomfortably wet but I dared not take it off. What if they come for me? I can't afford to lose time dressing up. But the night was surprisingly warm and except for some night creatures` noises in the distance nothing stirred it. I slept for about three hours.
When I woke up in the morning, it was crystal-clear that no one would come to take me home.
I threw away my only high-heeled shoe and barefoot set off for a journey to nowhere.
I followed the river down its flow. There are always towns and villages nearby, that's how we were taught at school. Remember? No matter what, always follow the water. By the position of the sun I roughly estimated I was heading south. The country slightly changed, now I was walking in vast lowlands covered with dry grass and scattered rocks. Still no sign of civilization. I did not remember this land. I was getting terribly hungry and my bare feet hurt. I desperately yearned to return to the bustling city I had hated all my life, with all its concrete, steel and glass and crowds of nameless faces; the chaotic traffic and the ever-present smog and noise. Even the job in a telecommunications company. Fuck them and their forced team-buildings! Fuck their yacht!
But there was only the silence and forces of nature. I was alone, unarmed, with no supplies, tottering on by the sheer power of will. I was very tired. If I died here perhaps I would not lose that much. No one would miss me.
 The next day started in the same way, with no changes in the landscape, no sign of a town whatsoever, not even a road! I slept very little last night and was even more hungry, my feet now bloodied with little wounds and scratches. Exhausted, I lay down in the shade of a large rock and drifted in a dreamless sleep. It was late morning.
 And then something stirred at the back of my mind. Wake up, something is wrong!
 I blinked and shielded my eyes, half-blinded by the sun. Sleepily I sat up to see something that made my eyes widen in shock.
 I saw a group of the strangest creatures, not more than five, foul and hideous, approaching me at great speed. Dressed in animal skins and coarse metal plates, armed with primitive - but still! - metal hooks and maces, their faces not at all human. I could smell their sharp odour even from where I was sitting.
 I stood up clumsily, prepared to run, but the fastest one was already there and grabbed me by my arm fiercely. I screamed and cried out: âStop it! What do you want from me?!â But he did not seem to understand. I kicked him and fought desperately  but it only made them all laugh. He asked his fellows something in a sharp, coarse tongue and seemed to be satisfied with their answer. Suddenly he yanked me by my hair and made me fall on my knees. I cried out in pain. He unsheathed his primitive sword and pressed its tip to my throat. I felt it pierce my skin to drive a few drops of blood. Then the blade moved down to the neckline of my dress, agonizingly slowly. He held it with one hand and with the other one all of a sudden cut the thin cloth in one long, swift movement. I stared down at my nakedness in shock. A thin red scratch was crossing my stomach. I stood up and attacked him with all my remaining strength, kicking and biting where I managed to reach. They just laughed. Then I felt sharp pain on my left thigh and collapsed to the ground. This time he cut me very deep. I could not run away now.
 Then he removed my panties and sank down on me with his full weight. He stank of fish and his rotten teeth made my stomach rise in disgust. With one strong movement he entered me and I cried out in sharp pain, tears of desperation filling my eyes.
 Then something happened.
 Out of nowhere a man sprang out, armed with a large silvery sword, and with battlecry on his lips sank the sword into my enemy's throat. Its tip stopped a few centimetres above mine. His blood splashed on my face and started to pour down on my chest wildly. Wide-eyed, he struggled to get off me and in that attempt smashed me in the head. All went blank for a split second and then I saw the silver blade once again and the creature's head flew away. The body collapsed on me, its weight holding me down once again.
 The man shouted something towards me, something I could hardly understand, and turned to the others.
 What happened next came like a strange end to a nightmare. I saw him move around swiftly, cutting off arms and piercing bodies. He occasionally cried out in effort but seemed to be a skilled warrior. The creatures were a little match to him. His blue cloak lined with fur moved around swiftly along with his dark long hair.
 When the last enemy fell, he stood still and panting turned around to take in the situation - he searched the corpses around him and surroundings for any sign of movement.
 Finally his gaze stopped on me, lying helpless on the ground.
 He walked towards me, his right hand still holding the sword, prepared for anything, his face expressionless. He grabbed the corpse's arm and seemingly effortlessly rolled it over and away from me.
 I stared down at me in shock. The only piece of garment to cover my nakedness was my once-white luxury bra, now covered with crimson blood. My decollete and belly were all sticky with the red liquid, out of which a few streams found their way down to my bare thighs and womanhood.
 I made a frail attempt to cover myself and keep whatever dignity remained.
 His steady gaze moved slowly across my body, from the bruises on my face, down to my belly and lingered on my shaking hands which tried to cover my secret places.
 He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead turned his head away. From behind the rocks the wind brought in men`s shouts and sounds of hooves on the rocky ground.
 He shouted in that direction in strong, commanding voice: âStay where you are, all of you! Don't come here until I summon you!â It sounded like a mixture of old Norse and English, difficult to comprehend, yet still I understood.
 And with that he kneeled beside me and asked matter-of-factly: âAre you hurt anywhere else?â and gestured towards the deep cut on my thigh.
 âI⊠don't know.â I whispered and looked around, disorientation and shock taking their grasp of me now that it was over.
 He took off his cloak and without a single word wrapped me in it, fastening it on my right shoulder with a buckle. My right hand was free but the left one stayed hidden under the cloth. He rolled the cloak up to reveal my thigh which was bleeding heavily. He examined the wound, his face that of perfect calmness, its expression impenetrable, his blue eyes ice-cold lakes. It felt very right though, under these circumstances.
 He reached for my party dress which lay cut in two beside me and before pressing it to my wound, studied it briefly. I hissed in pain.
 âWho are you?â he shot.
 âI got lostâŠâ I whispered out of my breath.
 âWhere is your village? Who do you travel with?â
 âMy village?â I blinked. âThere is no village, we came yachting on the lake but then the storm came and I'm alone here now⊠I don't know what happened⊠How I got here⊠Why do you all carry swords? Where am I now?â I asked puzzled.
 âOut of the lakeâŠâ he spoke for himself and then his face hardened.
 âDwalin! All, you may come!â he shouted towards the rock that shielded us.
 There came hurried steps and surprised cries before I could actually see my saviour`s companions. What strange beings they were, short of stature, with ridiculous hair and beards and clad in the oddest garments which could only be seen in living history spectacles. They surrounded us and one of them, a grey-haired one, kneeled beside me in surprise while the others left to search the vicinity for any signs of other enemies. He raced off behind the rock only to reappear with a skin filled with transparent liquid that he poured on my wound. I hissed and a few tears escaped my eyes. I wiped them away with my one free hand. Then he forced a few tablespoons down my throat. He then bound my leg tightly with my dress to which appearance he paid no attention whatsoever.
 âI cannot do more here, the wound needs proper sewing. She is losing blood.â He turned towards my saviour as if to ask for his approval.
 The latter, while my wound was being tended to, wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. Now he was sitting a few metres away from us on a dead tree trunk, deep in thoughts, his eyes studying me. Now and then they turned towards the direction from which I had come.
 He nodded slowly. There was certain gracefulness to it.
 âDo not fear lass, you will be safe and sound with us,â smiled the grey-haired one to me as he tried to comfort me.
 Their leader, for he surely was one, stood up and asked simply:
 Frowning, I struggled to my feet and made one weak step. But my sore feet betrayed me, and I would have fallen to the ground, had the grey-haired one not caught me. I clenched my teeth.
 Their leader walked towards me and without a warning lifted me in the air.
 âPut your arm around my neck,â he commanded. I did so and he carried me quite some distance towards their horses hidden behind the rocks.
 As soon as we reached them, he put me down. I immediately grabbed the nearest saddle to steady myself. The animal, tall and graceful, glanced back at me in curiosity. How on earth am I supposed to ride a creature like that?
 My saviour reached for a bag hanging from the side of the horse and produced a skin bottle. He handed it over to me without a word. It was wine, strong and sweet. I drank a few sips and wanted to return it to him, but he shook his head in disapproval. I drank some more until he finally looked satisfied. God, I will get drunk within minutes if they continue forcing to me their mixed alcohol! Considering that I have eaten nearly nothing in the past three days. I passed the bottle to him and he tucked it back into the side bag. Then he placed his hands on my hips and lifted me up into the saddle, both of my legs to one side. Then he swiftly mounted the horse himself.
 I have never really ridden a horse and suddenly I found myself sitting on one. The height felt immense. I grabbed the horn with my right hand, the left one still covered by the cloak, and found it nearly impossible to hold stable in this position. The saddle was not a women`s one. As he positioned himself behind me, the horse moved slightly to the left and I gasped, trying desperately not to fall on my face. He placed both his hands in front and behind me and moved closer to reach for the reins. At that his long hair touched my face and I did my best not to look up at him and stay from his body as far as possible. We set off and my knuckles whitened with effort.
 âYou will fall if you avoid me,â he said under his breath and pulled me to him so that I was leaning on his chest now. I stiffened for a while, but indeed it was much easier for me to maintain balance like this.
 We rode in silence for a good while, forming a fine line, the other three fellows before and after us. I could hear the horses` snorts and sound of hooves against the ground. The air was fresh and mild breeze started to blow. I risked a quick glance at him. He did not seem to notice.
 His ice-blue gaze remained fixed on the horizon, distant and impenetrable, his features regular, his bearded jaw determined. He wore leather armour, encrusted with delicate plates of metal where I could see and feel, and under it dark blue chemise. His long hair cascaded down from his shoulders in waves, as a dark mane shielding a lion. It occasionally touched me as he moved his head. I cautiously took in his scent; it reminded me of old leather and spices, deeply masculine.
 âDid he rape you?â he shot into the silence all of a sudden.
 âWhat?!â I froze, hoping I had overheard. My face blushed blood-red in a second.
 âDid the scum manage to rape you?â he whispered nearly inaudibly, just for my ears to hear. He looked down at me for a moment and continued to stare in front of him.
 âYou can`t ask me such things... â I breathed, my voice shaking. Tears filled my eyes and all of a sudden I started to tremble as flashbacks of that day reappeared in front of my eyes. I still felt the sharp pain between my legs, the one single goddamn thrust I would remember all my life. I felt filthy and deceived.
 He looked down at me again.
 âI have saved you, of course I have the right to know,â he informed me, pausing for a while. âYour secret is safe with me though. They do not know, and will not guess,â he gestured towards his fellow riders. âYou have long enough to decide how much you tell the healer by the time we return to the camp.â
 He reached back for the side bag again and passed me the wine. I drank a few sips, unwillingly.
 âMore!â he commanded and pressed it to my lips again.
 âDo you want me to get drunk?!â I protested weakly, pushing the bottle away.
 âAye,â was his simple and honest answer.
 I drank some more and returned the bottle to him, nearly apologetically. âI don't like alcohol.â
 âThen you have not tasted any good vintage wine. We store some special sorts in our cellars. And mead and strong beer,â he changed the subject.
 But the damage was done, I already started to shake uncontrollably, shock of past events taking over what was left of my self-control. I cried bitterly, the wine surely helping my emotions to flow freely.
 He made no attempt to hush me. We rode in uttermost silence for an eternity, I lost in my grief and he in his thoughts⊠perhaps. But the horse strode at regular pace and I cried long enough to exhaust myself.
 âWhat is your name?â he interrogated finally.
 âKate Evans, where have you come from?â
 âRather tell me where we are now.â
 âCertainly in eastern Rhovanion, by the Running River.â
 I shook my head in disbelief. None of this made sense.
 âThis must be some nightmare.â
 âIt is what you make of it.â
 And that was it. I was too tired to think any further, so I just asked:
 âWhat was your name again?â
I spent the rest of the journey half-awake, not really caring where they were taking me. But when I saw the red tents of a war camp in the distance, I was alert immediately. Right in front of us sprang out from the depths of the earth hundreds of tents, of natural and red colours, with banners and flags proudly erected, floating in the breeze. And war carriages, horses and rams, and soldiers, countless heads clad in heavy armour, very short, dwarf-like. They carried numerous kinds of weapons - mostly axes and spears - some practising their art of war, some sitting and eating, some resting on the grass doing nothing. But they all greeted us as our small company entered their lines, bowing their heads in salutation.
We stopped in front of the largest tent right in the centre of the camp. It was decorated with intricate patterns with symbolic meaning, as I guessed, and a pair of guards stood in front of its entrance. But what guards they were! Very tall, slender in their golden armour, with pointed ears and skin pale as if they had never seen the sun.
Thorin dismounted the horse, and to my astonishment, one of the guards reached out and carried me into the tent without being told to. His skin had a strange, opalesque tone to it, his features delicate as if carved from the rarest marble, adding to the unearthly ambiance around him. As he moved, he seemed to dance in the air with me in his arms.
The tent`s furnishing was very simple, with a few chairs, a large table with maps spread all over it, a massive wooden chest and a portable bed to the side of it. Effortlessly the guard carried me to the bed and laid me down on the furs. He bowed elegantly and returned to his post at the entrance. I heard Thorin order someone to bring in the healer and prepare some warm water and clean clothes. Then all went silent and I was left alone. I breathed out and sank into the furs. They felt unbelievably comfortable after the three days out in the wild!
Shortly thereafter I heard the guards salute to someone and a tall being of the same race was ushered. He wore beautiful silken robe, decorated with yellow and silvery ornaments, his long light hair secured in a simple yet utterly elegant hairstyle. He smiled at me and lowered his head in a warm greeting.
âMy lady, I shall tend to your wounds now, if you allow me. My name is Amarth,â and with that he opened a wooden chest he had brought with him.
âI`m Kate. Thank you,â I replied and uncovered my bandaged thigh.
âThe wound is deep and bleeds a lot. It will require immediate sewing. But you will walk after it is healed,â he encouraged me upon checking it. He then cleaned it and before the actual surgery reached out to touch my temples. He looked deeply in my eyes and my head started to swim. âYou will feel no pain,â he said, and I did not, much to my surprise. But I did not have the guts to watch him work. I rather studied the room, concentrating on the sounds coming from the outside, until he was finished. He then tended to the cut on my stomach, little bruises and scratches on my feet and washed my face gently. Looking at the stained washing basin I realized how much blood I wore smeared all over my face! Then he washed my hands and arms and suggested that I clean the rest myself. He explained there were no other women in this camp to take care of me. He turned his back to me and sat at the end of the bed as I reached for the cloth.
âAre there any other wounds to be tended to?â he asked finally.
I hesitated for a moment. âNo.â
âAre you sure, my lady? Deep in my heart I feel that you are hurting in other ways.â
âI am sure there are no other wounds,â I confirmed. What else could I say?
He replied nothing but I felt he did not quite believe me. I have just finished the hygiene and put on a clean menâs tunic that had been brought in for me, so he turned back to me, and to my great dismay, reached out to hold both his hands directly above my womb. I stiffened in a sudden strike of panic, but he did not touch me. I felt immense heat emanating from his palms and the pain between my legs started to ease until it finally disappeared. Then he placed his hands above my heart and made a small grimace of dissatisfaction.
âI have healed your body, my lady. The rest you will have to heal yourself.â
And with those words he left.
I just realized that my dwarves as I describe them in this story are considerably tall, more or less of human height, just much more robust. I kind of can`t imagine looking down at Thorin or any other warrior! :) BUT you can imagine them as suits you.
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A few minutes after that they brought to me some soup to eat, with a few slices of bread. It tasted most delicious, especially in my state. And it was steaming hot, to finally warm me! Satisfied, I sank into the furs and let my eyes wander around the space. A dwarf-like, short man took the bowl away, only to return with a nice cup of strong herbal tea. I tasted some medicine in it, though.
âIt will do you good,â he smiled, and backed away politely. The cloth in the entrance made a soft sound as he left.
I drifted in a shallow, disturbed sleep, though how long I slept, I did not know.
I opened my eyes to an early evening and stared in surprise at Thorin, seated on another bed on the opposite side of the tent. The table with the documents had been moved to make room for the new portable bed. Thorin had changed to a more comfortable, beige tunic, his dark hair sprinkled across his shoulders. An oil lamp to his side, the only source of light in the tent, cast dark shadows on his face. He looked dangerous.
âAmarth has done a good service to you. Your wounds will heal soon,â he spoke quietly, but sternly.
âThank you⊠I want to thank you for all youâŠâ I started slowly, my eyelids heavy from sleep and the calming medicine.
âKate Evans, where have you come from?â he interrupted me all of a sudden, his gaze direct and penetrating.
I blinked. âI come from Norway, although my father is British. How I came here, I honestly don't knowâŠâ I paused, waiting for his reaction.
He raised his eyebrow. âThat Norway. Where is that supposed to be?â
âIt's a country in Europe, of course.â
âA continent on Earth,â I replied in disbelief.
He stared at me, his fiery eyes growing even darker. âNo more jests, Kate Evans! I want to hear the truth now!â
âBut that is the truth!â I exclaimed, my voice rising shakily. âI honestly don't know! I don't know what happened to that wreck of a ship and where I am now! Where is this Rhovanion? I can't even check my GPS, I lost my cell in the damn water!â Now I was nearly yelling, tears in my eyes. âWho the hell were those creatures?â I collapsed onto the bed at the sudden pain which sprang from the cut on my belly.
Losing his temper, he grabbed a large parchment from the table and strode towards me. He tossed it on my bed and stood there towering, waiting for something. When I did not react, he pointed a finger to a lowland by a river, and I understood that was our location.
I turned my eyes to the map once again. I realized I didn't recognize any of the rivers, towns or mountains. âI can't. This is not how Europe looks. Do you have a world map? A map depicting other continents?â I inquired, hoping I would finally persuade him that I was not a liar.
âMiddle-Earth is the only continent on Arda as we know it now,â he replied gravely and took the parchment from my hands.
My heart sank. I did not try to wipe away the tears that quietly flew from my eyes now. I realized I could not tell him more about me and my⊠world. The thought struck me as a lightning. This must be some strange world, another world, another reality, perhaps even dimension! How else can you explain all that had happened?!
âThis is a nightmare,â I sighed under my breath.
âRest now,â he commanded and extinguished the oil lamp. Then he turned away and walked out of the tent. âSummon the generals!â I heard him growl to someone. As he rolled the cloth aside, the moonlight glistened on the golden helmet of one of the guards. It was the one who carried me in his arms earlier today.
I must have drifted in a heavy, dreamless sleep, for I did not wake up when Thorin returned. And I did not want to wake up at all, that was true.
The early morning found me sound asleep. I awoke to the muffled voices in front of the tent and then Amarth walked in, gracious as always, wearing his splendid silken robes and on his lips the ever-present smile. The cloth shielding the entrance was pulled to one side and secured there to let in the pale sunlight. He lowered his head in a greeting and sat down by my side on the bed.
âMy lady, will you allow me,â and he touched my forehead to check my temperature. âYou look better today. How was your night?â
âI didn't sleep very wellâŠâ
âCertainly because of me. We had some heavy conversation last night,â came the deep grunting voice from the right. I turned my head to the direction from which I heard it coming. Thorin was lying on his bed, half sitting, half leaning on one arm, enjoying his breakfast. With his free hand he reached for some cheese from a plate laid in front of him.
âShe was lucky enough to be able to speak, after all the spirits that had been forced unto her yesterday,â Amarth said very calmly, turning to Thorin, and I was not entirely sure if he meant it as a joke after all.
âIt did its job,â Thorin nodded, satisfied.
âIt surely did, your Majesty.â
What did he just say?! I inhaled sharply, my cheeks turning red in a second. Was I sharing a room with a king? And⊠did I shout at one just last night? I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed. I could have guessed. By the way he spoke, moved and gave orders, and the air of authority which seemed to tame all defiance. But then again, I could have not. To introduce himself as king Thorin when we met each other would have sounded⊠out of place.
Amarth leaned in to examine the little scratches on my face and hands and then he showed to my leg. âWill you?â
I stared at him for a moment not understanding what he wanted me to do. âOh.. yes,â He was either being so terribly polite or he did not want me to feel any kind of menace. Which I appreciated very much. I pulled away the fur to uncover my leg. He removed the bandage and started to cleanse the wound. The air filled with scent of herbs and fresh linen, mixing with dried blood. I watched him work. I felt grateful that someone cared for me in this horrid world, let it be a doctor caring for his patient.
âI will not have much time for this later,â he said while reaching for a clean bandage. âNot after the army returns.â
âWhere are they going?â
âTo war,â replied Thorin instead of him. He was towering in the entrance, already taking his leave, with his back to us. âWe are at war.â
âWhen... are you leaving?â I breathed, unsure of my future once again.
âThen⊠good luck,â were the only words that came to my mind. What else could I say? Farewell and thank you if you don't return? I choked on the sentence but I think he kind of understood because he turned his head to me and nodded. Then he stepped out into the light.
We were left alone now. Amarth asked me to pull up my tunic so that he could examine the cut. I hesitated for a moment, remembering that I wore no panties now. So I pulled the furs up to my waist and did as he told me, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. I felt ashamed because all his care reminded me painfully of all that had been done to me. I pressed my lips to a thin line when he smeared an ointment over the already forming scar.
âDo not worry, the wound will leave no marks. It will turn invisible in a few months,â he smiled reassuringly.
âI doubt there will be anyone to check,â I said bitterly but regretted it immediately because I said more than I wanted. âI wish I could return home.â
He finished what he was doing and looked me in the eyes for a long moment, as if searching for an answer.
âYou have come from very far, indeed. Yet your journey back is impossible, I fear.â I gulped, but he continued. âThis is a good world, you might grow to like it in time. Once this war against evil is over.â
And he spoke to me of Thorin's kingdom and this world, vast and strange as it was. Of the dwarves and the elves and other races that inhabited it, and of the hideous orcs and goblins who grew so wild and dangerous in recent years that war seemed inevitable to tame them. He told me how Thorin became the king after a long and exhausting battle which came to be known as the Battle of Five Armies, where his two descendants died. Victory was his, but he grew bitter and untrustful, darkness and rage poisoning his heart for ten long years. But then the orcs arose once again and chose to ride the neighbourhood, occasionally crossing the borders of the dwarven kingdom, killing and ransacking all the good that had remained. The last drop was a village burnt to the ground two weeks ago, just one-day ride from Erebor. That was when the decision was made to march against the orcs with full force, deep into the fields of wilderness. Elven king Thranduil sent his elite five hundred  warriors for help, among them the personal guard that I had had the chance to meet already. And Amarth along with them. Then Amarth came to the point where our paths crossed. Thorin was leading a scouting expedition with his most faithful ones, that was when they found me. And today the future would be decided.
I came to understand that this was a world on the level of European Middle Ages, full of danger and grief. I was terrified by its sheer rawness and the possibility that I could be killed or hurt at any given time for literally no reason. It was so very far from my peaceful home in the overcrowded city, dull but safe! I thought I would never get used to it. And I didn't want to think of what I would do after my wounds are healed, where I would go. I was devastated.
It was long past midnight when I heard the army return, the shouts and cries preceding it. Thousands of victorious voices rising in wild joy and laughter.
Then came Thorin's voice, summoning the keepers of the camp to care for the wounded. âBalin! Call for Amarth and Oin! Keep the wounded here in the centre so that the healers can access them at any time. Gloin, prepare the generals' tent for those who need surgery. Count the dead and wounded and report to me immediately!â Soon fire-flames sprang up all around the camp, I could see the night lighten and shine. After an hour came the smell of mutton being roasted and the voices started to slowly calm down.
The curtain at the entrance moved and Thorin walked in with his head proudly erect, his face smeared with blood and dirt, his hair hanging down his shoulders in thick messy ropes. He breathed out exhausted to death, his eyes closing for a brief moment, his shoulders finally relaxing. Then he looked at me and smiled.
âCongratulations,â I smiled back at him.
He nodded towards me in agreement, his eyes flickering with satisfaction. âI will have to keep you, Kate. Now that the future has been decided.â
I blushed deeply, not knowing what to reply. âI will not disturb you for too long, I will find my way out of this.â
âI strongly doubt that,â came the answer.
He collapsed to a chair and immediately after that Amarth sped in with his wooden chest and flowing hair.
âWhere was the wound, your Majesty?â He helped Thorin get rid of his metal and leather armour that covered his upper body and arms. Thorin removed his tunic, growling at that movement in pain. Right under his arm, straight from the armpit down to the ribs came a nasty wound, where some blade found its way through the unshielded surface. Amarth ordered more light to be brought in and started to work on the wound immediately. Thorin rested his head on the back of the chair and in silence watched the healer do his job.
âYour Majesty should have summoned me earlier. You are risking your health for no reason,â uttered Amarth.
âNonsense! Rather tell me how many of my warriors are wounded heavily. When is it appropriate to leave for Erebor?â
âI did not count those but we will need to perform several surgeries today the  whole night long... Maybe tomorrow until the afternoon, that is if all present healers help with no breaks to recover their strength. But we will manage to save many lives, if Iluvatar smiles at us. The losses suffered seem heavier than they are.â
âGood. Then we shall leave in two days. Let us recover from the worst and head home at the soonest. Will you accompany us to Erebor, Amarth? Your task is over now that we have won. But you can stay as my guest as long as you wish. As a thank you,â he eyed Amarth in calm anticipation.
âIt is my pleasure, your Majesty,â Amarth bowed his head. âI got used to dwarvish ways. I can stay until my king summons me back to Mirkwood,â he replied as he reached for warm water and soap. He cleansed Thorin's chest and face from all the blood - I was not entirely sure if all of it was his - and to my surprise, when he reached for his hair, Thorin halted him with a simple gesture.
âDon't waste your time here. Go and tend to those who need it.â
Amarth left us in haste, his long dress flapping at the entrance cloth at that. Then Thorin turned his attention to me. âIt is your turn now, Kate.â
His request startled me. I blinked in surprise and lingered for a few moments.
âI do not have to tell you the reasons, do I?â he mouthed slowly, his stern eyes locked with mine.
I shook my head. Of course I would help him. Did he not help me? I shook off the furs that covered me and got to my feet hesitantly. I was quite weak still but fought the dizziness with all my remaining strength. I walked slowly towards him and collapsed to another chair behind him. I cautiously brushed his hair away from his face and poured some warm water over it. I looked around for some shampoo but all I could find was some basic soap. I doubted the dwarves would carry such useless things with them to war, so soap would have to do for now. I washed his hair as diligently as I could. He did not seem to enjoy it, nor did he seem dissatisfied. Then I wiped it dry and looked around for a comb. Of course there was none. So I used my fingers to at least untangle his hair, the thick wavy mane that it was.
âYour husband will miss this,â he turned to me to watch me closely.
âMy husband? I'm not married.â I admitted. âNor engaged. Nobody will miss me, if this is what you want to hear,â I whispered.
âHow come? Are you not of the age?â
âOf course I am⊠but I don't want to talk about this.â
âYou will not talk to me?â he asked menacingly, his eyes flashing with nearing rage.
âI will⊠but not about this. Please.â
âIs that a custom in Norway?â
âIt's personal, Thor⊠Your Majesty.â
âYou have lost all your secrets the very moment I found you. You must get accustomed to it. I will ask questions and you will answer them. I require that. No exceptions, Kate.â
I inhaled sharply. âIt's not as you think. The age is not important in my country. We marry when we find the right spouse.â
âDid your father fail to find a proper man for you?â
âIt's my decision and my choice, the family have nothing to do with it, of course.â
âSo how does an unmarried woman make her living?â Thorin leaned in, frowning. âDoes she walk the streets?â He growled under his breath.
âOf course not! Our women study and work! We are independent of the men! We live on our own, decide on our own and love on our own!â I was starting to get pretty irritated. âEven without marriage!â
That set him ablaze. He stood up, eyeing me angrily, his naked chest moving heavily under the bandage. âWhere do you belong then?! Who keeps you safe at times of war, when you walk alone in the open land, when you are sick? When you have no kin of yours? What is it that you do for living, Kate?â
âDo you think me a whore?!â I shouted at him, mad to the point that my hands started to shake.
He shook his head. âAnswer me.â
I inhaled three times, ever so slowly, to calm down. âYou don't understand. We are safe in the public... Well, mostly. And the society, the government takes care of us if we needâŠâ at those words he gave me the âdo-you-really-mean-thatâ look. I felt I was slowly losing my ground. âI work in a telecommunications company, it's hard to explain.â
âYes⊠I work with computers and.... Basically help my customers interact, communicate, exchange and store information.â Well, could I explain what a high-end server and storage was?
âDo you carry a weapon?â
âNo!â I saw where he was heading. âI don't need it!â
He raised his eyebrow. âI see. Can you work in the field, Kate?â
I blushed the brightest red. âNo.â
âCan you bake bread?â
âI will not repeat myself!â
I shook my head, starting to feel desperate. This conversation was taking a turn I didn't like. And worst of all, he addressed the weak points in my past urban life, which I didn't have the courage to name myself. The dull everyday work, which made no sense, with no physical results. Just the eight-hour work at my desk, my eyes tired of the screens, day by day, year after year, in the bustling city that never slept, with all the nameless faces which didn't care. They just didn't. I had a few friends and acquaintances, that was all. He'd made his point. Tears of desperation filled my eyes.
âThat is not a good place to stay,â he whispered, and it almost felt soothing.
âIs this one better?!â my voice shook.
âNo, it is not. But there are people one can depend on.â He said surprisingly calmly. âGo to rest now. You have served me well today.â
âI`m not serving anyone!â I exclaimed.
âAre you not?â his eyes turned the darkest shade of blue. âI am running out of patience, Kate. Beware of what you say or you will face the consequences.â
I stood up abruptly, taking my leave angrily, but my sore body and stirred mind betrayed me. I would have fallen to the ground had Thorin not caught me. Without a single word, he lifted me in the air, grinning at the pain he obviously felt spreading from his new wound, and carried me towards my bed. He laid me in the furs and said in a very quiet but ever so menacing voice: âThis is the second time I had to carry you. You had better think of a good way to return these favours to me.â
I awoke at the feeling of draught penetrating the tent. Shivering into the brisk morning air, I pulled the furs up to my chin. The sound of light rain against the tent cloth made me sink back with a slight sigh. I was alone here and with nobody else to upset me. I had some serious thinking to be done. Where would I go after I was healed? Could I try to search the lake one more time and possibly return home? I clung to the thought that I had missed something there and then, when all this happened. Some important clue. I needed to find out more, to have at least some plan, otherwise I'd go mad.
Later that day, I was visited by Amarth, and the grey-haired dwarf whom I had met on the first day, Oin. They did not talk much though. They inquired briefly how I felt and left to tend to the soldiers. I was brought a bowl of warm stew which tasted deliciously. Thorin returned in the afternoon, and along with him four dwarves whom I had never seen. By their expensive looking garments and armour I guessed they could be soldiers of a higher rank, or generals. They discussed their matters in a harsh, throaty tongue which I did not understand but occasionally heard from the outside camp. Finally, Thorin tapped one of them on the shoulder and they all left, smiling. I appreciated that so much.
Early next morning, just at daybreak, I was brought clean men's pants and a pair of leather boots. They did not fit my feet entirely but they had to do for the journey. It took several hours to pack the entire war camp, but we managed to set off still in the morning. I was helped into a covered carriage driven by a pair of heavy horses. I sat on a chest full of some beans, around me large sacks of flour, loaves of bread and smoked meat. I could even smell some coffee. A half-conscious elven soldier was lain beside me on the floor, on several layers of cloth. I was told he was being taken home to Mirkwood to be treated properly. I wanted to ask where that was, but we had to make haste. From time to time a soft cry escaped his lips, but we did not talk at all, he was too weak to even try. As we moved, I could hear steady raindrops bump against the canvas, and the sound soothed me to a sweet half-dream.
We travelled like this for three days, stopping regularly for food and relief of the stretched legs. At night the soldiers slept in the open, with the saddles under their heads. I stayed in the carriage though. It was very uncomfortable but still better than for most of us, so I did not object. I did not notice it at first, but the longer I travelled with no companion to talk to, I started to realize that the dwarves marching just behind my carriage avoided direct eye contact with me. This was becoming very strange. Thorin passed by us once a day while inspecting his army, giving me an unconcerned look from the back of his black stallion. He spoke a few words to the two elvish guards who rode by both sides of my carriage and left. I was starting to feel like a prisoner. What was wrong?
On the third evening I heard someone shout âHalt!â and our snake-like line stopped winding by a large forest, its trees tall and ancient beyond words. I heard some of the dwarves whisper "Mirkwood!", their eyes turning to the branches in a superstitious awe. I felt their sudden restlessness. That was when the elvish forces regrouped to a long narrow line and disappeared in the forest, taking my sick companion and other disabled kin with them. Their golden helmets glistened in the fading light and as they entered the dark depths, I could swear I heard the forest sigh with relief that its children had returned.
Amarth and a few personal guards stayed with us. Our carriages formed a large semi-circle as if for protection from an unknown enemy. This was very unusual. But the dusk was nearing and Thorin did not want to travel by night.
As I lay down to rest in the silence, I saw Thorin's silhouette passing by all alone in the dark blue light. He lingered at the border of the forest for a while, listening, waiting for something, his right hand resting on his sword's hilt. Then he turned around and strode towards my carriage. He spotted me fully awake and facing him, and stopped at the entrance. The darkness prevented me from seeing his expression.
âWhat is out there that you were watching?â I whispered with my heart in my throat.
âNothing to be afraid of now,â he murmured and stepped into the carriage. He laid down on the floor beside me, spread flat on his back with all his garments and sword by his side.
I laid back as well, but his presence at this distance was quite unnerving. I decided to break the odd silence.
âWhat is hiding in the forest? Tell me, please.â
âMirkwood is an ancient and powerful place, full of hate and evil. There are beasts and spirits hungering for flesh. Sometimes they come out at night, but it is very improbable that we see them tonight. We are keeping our distance.â He explained matter-of-factly.
âOh.â I shrugged at the thought. My pulse quickened. I stared at the opening in the canvas. There was no moon tonight and the night grew dark and weary.
I turned my back to him and closed my eyes. I couldn't fall asleep for a long time though, and when I did, I dreamt of wolves and dragons in flight. They were nearing and I screamed but no voice came out of my lungs.
I awoke into the dead of the night all drenched in sweat. I sat up with a feeling of danger at hand but could not put my finger on why. Thorin's silhouette by my side moved to touch his sword. I knew he was listening as well.
Then came the cry of a guard, tearing the silence with its sharp intensity. It seemed to be quite near. And then the strange shrieking and hissing sounds of an animal which I did not know. Thorin was on his feet in a second. He jumped down from the carriage and spat his âStay here!â at me. And he was away, running to the right and behind the carriage towards where Mirkwood spread. Then came other voices of soldiers shaken from their sleep, neighing of horses and sounds of fighting.
I froze and dared not move, my head blank with fear, my heart racing. After a few breaths I moved cautiously towards the entrance and risked a quick glance out into the night but saw nothing. I desperately needed to know what was going on, so I stepped out of the carriage and slowly moved in the direction where Thorin had run. What revealed in front of my eyes was like risen from a nightmare.
About fifty metres away from me, a large spider-like creature rose in attack. Around it about ten dwarves, shouting and stabbing the beast with swords and axes. From the direction of the forest other three spiders ran, I could hear their hissing even here. I saw a silvery blade rise and just then a voice of horn sounded in alarm. I heard the sound of hooves behind me and then all went still.
I could feel the fire before I actually opened my eyes. Above me the worried face of Amarth and the touch of his healing hands. He spoke to me but I could not make out his words at first. To my left Oin aiding him.
â...my lady! Can you hear me?â
I nodded but a million sparks of pain exploded in front of my eyes. My leg hurt as well.
âDo not move, everything will be alright,â advised Oin.
âWhat happened?â I breathed out.
âYou are lucky the horse didn't kill you, lass. It rolled over you but we managed to get you from under it before it did you more damage,â he explained, adding some extra drama. âYou have a couple more bruises but the worst is that your largest wound has reopened, judging by the blood. All the work from the last days is ruined. We have to start all over again.â
âOh⊠but the spiders...?â
âNobody was killed,â he smiled reassuringly. âJust a few wounded soldiers to be tended to, and you, of course.â He blinked at me. âBut do not worry, we will fix you.â
âThank you, Oin.â I managed a weak smile.
Then my eyes met Thorin's gaze. He was standing above us with his hands crossed across his chest in a menacing gesture. By his looks I could tell he was in terrible rage, his once ice-cold eyes gleaming and he would breathe fire as a dragon if he just could.
âDid I not tell you to stay in the carriage?!â he shot.
âWell⊠yes. But as you can see, I paid my price already,â I showed at my leg bitterly.
âYou must learn to obey my orders!â
âObey your orders?â I could not believe what he was saying. âI`m not your subject! Look, I owe you a lot, you helped me, without any doubt. But I will leave as soon as I can and we'll just wrap this all up.â
âYou are not going anywhere.â
It took a few seconds until his words sank in. âWhat?! What did you just say?!â That bastard! I wanted to tell him more but my head started spinning from the loss of blood and all the excitement. At the edge of my sight I saw Oin and Amarth exchange worried looks.
âDo not speak, my lady. Try to relax. You have lost a lot of blood,â spoke Amarth, eyeing Thorin directly. Thorin took a deep shaky breath. I could see he was fighting his emotions with all the strength of his reason, and it was a difficult fight. After a few more breaths he seemed to tame the anger. He spoke very slowly now, carefully choosing his words.
âTend to her wounds. Make sure she recovers her strength before we return. And explain to her how things are in Erebor.â Then he turned his back to us and left.
I could tell Oin was quite beside himself from our conversation. The dwarves definitely did not speak to Thorin in the way that I did. He was their king, of course, but I just could not help myself. I was not used to their ancient ways. Their admiration and obedience to their superiors. All the loyalty I could not understand. I was brought up as an independent woman, how could I bear such behaviour?
Amarth turned to me with a slight smile. âThere we are. Shall we begin now?â
Then they cut my pants on one side to gain access to the wound and started to work. After all was finished, they covered me with an extra blanket and stayed with me watching the fire, occasionally checking if I was alright. They spoke of the attack, and that all were surprised that the spiders dared to come out of the forest. Amarth explained that it was indeed very unusual, but not entirely impossible. This night was moonless and the creatures felt safe under the cover of darkness. And hunger does its magic, he emphasized. They did not mention Thorin nor dwarvish ways though. Oin wanted to give me some time to recover and choose a proper occasion to talk, as I later discovered.
When my eyes grew hazy, they helped me back into my carriage. I slept all alone that night, my dreams heavy with tiredness of that day.
It took another long and weary day until we finally reached Erebor. I did not see the mountain from my carriage but could sense we were nearing by the cheerful mood of the dwarves and the change of the terrain which grew mountainous and the climate a little colder. The mists were rolling in front of my eyes thick and heavy. I was left waiting in front of the gate, watching the whole army march away towards my back. After them the sick and the wounded, various helpers in charge of the supplies, tents and gear, and then the horses and war chariots. At last, a wide-armed dwarf called Dwalin showed up and helped me out of the carriage. He lifted me in the air effortlessly and strode into the gigantic gate.
I was ushered into a small dark chamber at the beginning of a long and narrow corridor with numerous doors. Dwalin mounted several staircases with me, but then I lost count. It could have been ten floors or more. As I learnt later, the king's private chambers were located on the very top, just one floor above mine. There I dwelled for full three weeks, resting on a bed made of massive dark wood, its linen white as snow, its velvet covers the colour of the reddest wine. The room was furnished with basic and simple accessories - a large chest of drawers, a padded armchair and opposite the bed, a cosy fireplace. It did not give away much heat though, and at nights I often felt cold. I guessed the dwarves were much more warm-blooded than me. The walls of grey solid rock bore no coating, save for a single tapestry. To my right was a high narrow window overlooking vast plains covered with rocks and dried grass, on the left partly shielded by the solid rock of which the Lonely Mountain was made. The sharp winds which were blowing in these heights broke on its edge, their currents flowing past my window without ever touching it. Occasionally, I could hear them sighing in the fissures of the stone.
My only companions in those days were Oin and Amarth. There came a dwarvish maiden three times a day to serve to me meals, but she did not speak to me at all. My attempts to speak to her came along unnoticed. She smiled at me briefly and turned away. After a few days I tired of trying to befriend her. I remained silent throughout the day, lost in dark thoughts in this dark room and cold kingdom. Only Amarth seemed to enjoy my company and spoke to me long every other day when he came to tend to my wounds and check my condition.
âThey accommodated you in the lightest chamber in Erebor,â he spoke to me once when I complained about the ever-present darkness. âWhich you can consider an act of favour. The dwarves are used to much harsher conditions.â He smiled. I felt he enjoyed my company being an outsider in this realm as well. He seemed to be able to translate the dwarvish behaviour to me so that I understood⊠or was starting to understand⊠until one day.
That was when early in the rainy morning, I suppose it was on Tuesday, Oin came in and sat on a stool by my bed. âDoes the thigh hurt still?â he inquired with an undertone in his voice which sounded strange.
âIt does⊠but it's getting better every day⊠unless I move.â I looked at him in anticipation.
He nodded. I sensed he was trying to think of a gentle way to tell me something which I might not quite like.
âWhat will become of me? I was not sentenced to death, right?â I interrupted the awkward silence to ask him directly.
âUgh, no, lass,â he smiled unwillingly.
âWhen do you think I can leave? I need to⊠return home.â
âGiven your condition and circumstances, I do not think you will leave⊠unless Thorin decides otherwise.â
âWhat do you mean by that? I'm not a prisoner, right?â
âWell,â I felt a sudden strike of panic at this word. âIn our lands, if someone saves your life, you owe him. You are in debt for the rest of your life, and it is anticipated that you pay your debts to the last coin, so to say. It is up to your saviour to decide the proper way that you do so. In most cases, you stay in the household or vicinity to help your saviour with everyday life. You can call that a life-long companion or a servant, if your master is fair enough. Sometimes it's a slave. Sometimes even worse. And sometimes you are fred, if Mahal allows and you deserve it.â
Thorin's âI will have to keep you, Kate. Now that the future has been decidedâ flashed in front of my eyes. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
âDeserve?! I didn't ask him to fucking save me! The orcs could have let me go in the end.â
âI am not in position to judge His Majesty`s decisions, lass. But if it helps you understand - the orcs never free their captives.â
âBut that's not fair! He can't hold me here against my will!â I exclaimed, feeling the blood rush into my face in anger.
âOf course he can. He has every right to do as he wishes, by our law and tradition. You will remain in this chamber until his Majesty decides your fate. Until then, you have no name and no position in this kingdom.â
âWhat do you mean by that?â
âNobody calls you by your name until your master decides your duties and you are given a new name. Understand this - you practically died and are reborn to a new life, bound to your saviour, with a new name. You lost all and gained all. The responsibility of how your life goes is now on Thorin's shoulders. Even more that you are unmarried.â
âYou can't be fucking serious! This all is so sick!â I yelled at him. âWhat does my love life have to do with it?!â
âHe can't let you go because you have no father or husband to tend to you, of course.â
âYeah, I noticed that`s a great deal for you. If you just let me go you'd get rid of this burden that I am to all of you.â
âDon't waste too much of your strength on your anger.â He patted me on the shoulder. âTry to rest, you will get used to it in time. All is good, believe me.â
I collapsed on the pillows, tears of anger and humiliation stinging in my eyes.
I hated Erebor. I hated all the dwarves. And above all, I hated Thorin Oakenshield.
Nightmares disturbed my sleep since that day. I saw myself being dragged into a deep pit full of fire, and on its bottom, a devil-like creature calling me by my name, in Thorin's deep voice. And a pair of chalices, we poured to them water from the lake I drowned in, and exchanged them. It took me a few days until Oin`s words sank in and I moved a little closer to accepting my situation. All things pass in time, I once heard, but I doubted the person who said this had ever experienced any wrongdoing in their life.
Then one day, the massive wooden door opened and Thorin walked in. He wore a dark tunic secured with a large ornamented belt and black leather pants. There was no sight of adornments or any jewels pointing to his royal status. He stood by my bed with an air of authority, yet still with certain casual grace.
âHow are we doing today?â
âMuch better, thank you.â
He nodded. âIt has been a long time.â He leaned in slowly and touched my chin with his index finger and thumb, lifting my face gently so that he could better inspect my skin. The scratches were almost gone, and he seemed satisfied. It was just me that felt awkward at the sudden intimacy. I avoided his gaze on purpose. He noticed that and smirked. Then without a warning, he pulled my blanket away and uncovered my wounded leg before I could protest. I felt sudden strike of panic as unwelcome memories flashed in front of my eyes. I screamed and reached for the blanket to pull it back, but he grabbed my hand and pinned it down. He sat down on the bed, shortening the distance between us, and murmured under his breath: âDon`t you dare to defy me!â, clearly enjoying this moment. He waited for a few more breaths and when I did not move, with one hand he slowly pulled my sleeping tunic away to uncover my thigh. The nasty wound was still there, although I did not need to wear a bandage anymore. An ugly thick scar was forming on the white skin, but luckily enough, the flesh was not inflamed.
He breathed out and slided his gaze across my body, the whole length from my leg, across my stomach and chest, and stopped to lock with my eyes. âThe rest I will inspect later.â I gulped and he smirked at that. I looked away and desperately hoped that he just leaves.
âLook at me.â came the command.
I reluctantly looked him in the eyes, the deep blue lakes that they were. He reached out to touch my cheek, and traced the line of my lips with his thumb, ever so slowly. My breathing came in shallow gasps, as I fought my once again rising panic. âYou do not need to be afraid.â He voiced nearly inaudibly, and I sensed in him understanding of what was going on in me... and fight to suppress his own nature. His hand was warm and his steady touch surprisingly comforting. He entangled his fingers with the back of my head and stroked the back of my neck. My muscles relaxed a little.
âGood girl. We will continue later.â At that he rose and gracefully left the chamber. The door closed and I was left all alone but with my confusion.
A few hours after that a tall female dwarf entered my chamber, her decent perfume filling the air as she moved gracefully, her long dress sweeping the floor. She was beautiful, with fair skin and black hair cascading down her shoulders, with a few streams braided at the back of her head. She wore simple but expensive dark blue dress and silver earrings which matched her pale blue eyes, embodiment of utter elegance. She stood in front of me with her arms folded across her chest as she studied me openly.
âSo you are the little slave girl,â she said, her voice a melodic one, more to herself than to me.
âObviously. Don't bother asking about my name. It doesn't matter anyway.â I was already pretty irritated.
She burst out in laughter, ringing sincere laughter which caught me by surprise. She was even more beautiful like that. âThorin said you were a strange creature but I did not expect this! And in much better condition than I had thought! You are practically healed,â she smiled.
âI Â am the one asking questions.â She made a small pause. âI will assign duties you are able to perform. Now, can you cook, iron, sew, knit, do any kind of needlework?â
I answered honestly I could do some ironing and simple needlework and was an average cook, at which she raised her eyebrow but did not comment. She thought for a brief moment and then nodded. âI will send in some clothes that need simple repairs and ironing. It is a temporary solution until you feel good enough to climb the staircases and join other staff.â
I did not reply. Instead of threatening me, she sat down at the edge of my bed and studied me for a long moment. âHis Majesty requires that. I am in charge of his household and will see to you performing your tasks properly.â Her voice softened now. âYou seem to be an intelligent woman, Katherine of Norway. Do not mess this up at the very beginning.â Touching my hand gently, she whispered. âHe does not deserve it after all.â
I blinked. Did he speak to her about our conversation in the war tent? âYou seem to know a lot. I don't think I understand your position here.â
âOf course I do know, being His Majesty's dear sister.â At this she straightened her shoulders. âMy name is Dis, you are Kate. All is clear now, formalities aside. I know your name but cannot use it in public. That is how things are in Erebor. But sooner or later you will have to make up your mind. Live here as a complete stranger and suffer or accept our ways and what our family has to offer you. Think about it very carefully.â Then she smiled and changed the subject. âNow, I will have your supper sent in. Your door will have to remain unlocked as you are everyone`s property now. Good night my dear.â
âWhen will I be given the keys?â
âWhen you are given your new name.â
She left me silent and grim. The wild autumn wind howled in the chimney and I shuddered at the sound.
The next day a large pile of freshly washed and dried clothes and linen was brought in and the servant girl pushed a low working table next to my bed. I could stand next to it until my leg tired and then have a rest as long as I needed. She showed me how to use their iron, as strange as it was. She took a few steaming wood pieces from the fireplace and shoved them in the iron`s opening, then waited for the tool to heat. Then I could do the ironing as usual, with a few sprinkles of water on the linen, although it needed a little more strength compared to modern electric irons. I did not complain though. At least I had something to spend my lonely hours with, and in fact I was not overloaded at all, Dis made sure of that. The ironing took about one or two hours a day. I was also given a new dress to wear during the day, very simple with no ornaments but comfortable. It was of the deepest forest green colour, the fabric rather thick but soft against my skin, its ankle length helping me retain as much warmth as possible in the cold days. Under it I wore a very light cream tunic with no sleeves as a kind of underwear and light leather shoes with thin sole.
Soon I was ordered to make small garment repairs, mostly stitching of tiny holes. I must have done quite well, because one day I discovered a familiar fur-lined cloak on top of the pile. I recognized a tiny blood stain on its edge where the meticulous washing had failed, and I shuddered.
I was slowly getting used to this life. The monotonous work with needle and iron, regular food and silence, except for the howling wind, was a soothing balm for my shaken nerves. Once in a while, in my stronger moments, I dared to open the door and peek out through the corridor. It was long and dark, with a few oil lamps secured on the walls, and an unrecognizable source of natural light - there must have been some hidden window or an opening in the heights. The corridor was lined with a series of other doors on both its sides, stretching as far as I could see to the left. As I learned later, it was inhabited by lower ranking officials and guests. To the right opened a staircase overlooking a huge, vast hall, resembling an abyss. I could see three floors on the opposite side from where I was standing, and was sure there were much more of them leading up and down which I could not see. The space between the mountain sides was enormous, echoing in its void, making the inhabitants look as unimportant and tiny as ants.
I was soon assigned the task to sweep the floor in this corridor. I did so daily, the servant girl reminding me of it by bringing a bucket of water in front of my door and knocking loudly. I was allowed to take my time so that I don't get exhausted.
Weeks passed and early winter crept in. I watched the first snowflakes dance in the wind, swirling in wild abandon, out of my shielded window. The days grew gray and even more silent, and I remembered bitterly I had not been out of the mountain for one single minute since I had arrived. Dis gave me a walking stick for support on walks longer than my corridor. I used it frequently to roam about and discover my strange surroundings, but preferred to choose the lonely hours of the night when I could not sleep. And there were fewer eyes to watch me. I did not make it to the main gate though, the ten floors were simply too much for my unused muscles.
That was when Dis entered my room to inform me about my new assignment. âYou have done very well,â she smiled. âYou can leave what you have been doing. Starting tomorrow, you will assist His Majesty with his morning routine.â
I nervously swallowed, and she giggled. âNow do you know how to behave in His Majesty's presence?â
I wanted to tell her that I should not call him a bastard in the first place, but then just shook my head.
âNever mind. First of all, never address him by his name. Never speak to him first, wait for him to start the conversation. If he asks you a question, address him as Your Majesty in your first sentence. Is that clear?â
âGood. One more thing, when you enter and leave his chambers, give a small curtsy. Just like this.â And she put her right foot behind her left and briefly bent at the knees. âIt is easy.â And she patted me on the shoulder reassuringly.
Her silver-like ringing laughter echoed in my ears long after she had left.
Next morning, a male servant opened my door to shake me from my deep sleep. It was very early, just before the dawn, and the skies were still dark. I quickly washed and dressed, and half asleep, with my hair all tangled, hurried after him to the upper floor. This was the highest floor, as I learnt, and I could tell that it looked different, lush and richly decorated at first sight. All from the dark red carpet to the dozens of oil lamps told the story of the highest status of its inhabitants. A pair of silent guards stood at the beginning by the steps. Hidden by the corner before the corridor actually started, was placed an intricate tool used for bringing the buckets of fresh water all the way up here, resembling a very deep well. We just had to pull an iron rope for a while. We poured the cold water into a large jar which my companion took along with an empty bucket, and I was given a fresh towel to carry.
Like this, we strode to the very end of the corridor, to the single door in the centre which overlooked its whole length. The servant knocked on the door gently and waited. There was no response for a good while and then there came the sound of a key in the keyhole, the door opened and bright morning sun blinded me. Thorin's silhouette moved in the opening and disappeared before we could finish our morning greetings.
His private chambers consisted of two adjoined rooms, a bedchamber connected to a library and study, and a closet. The carpet was the same dark red colour, matching an ancestral tapestry hanging on the grey stone wall. To the right a large solid four-poster bed, opposite a fireplace and a coffee table with two padded armchairs. In front of me a high window with a bench in the wall, and an old harp which looked abandoned. Thorin was standing by it, peeking out at the early winter landscape, shirtless in the morning cold. The servant hurried to a toilette table in the corner, where a washing basin stood, poured yesterday`s water into the bucket and told me to fill it with the fresh water from the jar. Then he went on to open the window and tidy up the room. I was left standing by the table, holding a towel. I had no idea what to do. Thorin eyed me and strode towards the table. He washed his teeth with a white powder, a mixture of salt and herbs, and then lifted the jar and poured remaining water over his head and shoulders.
âWhat are you waiting for,â he said, eyeing me impatiently, water dripping from his hair to the ground. The servant was frantically gesturing for me to rub the water away, obviously on the brink of heart attack.
âI am sorry, Your Majesty,â I remembered to address him properly, and hurried to use the towel. I gently wiped away his face and hair, then hesitated briefly before touching his chest. He was finely shaped, with broad shoulders and strong arms, probably because of training with heavy weapons. He noticed that and smirked. I could feel his intense stare, as he was obviously enjoying the moment. I fought desperately not to look him in the eyes. I was not sure what he would see there. He interrupted my thoughts by stepping away and walking into the closet. The servant ran after him to assist with clothes. When Thorin walked out, he was wearing dark brown trousers and a dark red tunic which looked very noble on him. Then he sat on an armchair by the window and dismissed the servant with a single gesture. He looked at me, his eyes flickering with amusement.
I took the comb from the toilette table and stood behind him. This time I had a comb to do what needed to be done. But this time, Thorin did not speak to me. I worked silently, and slowly started to relax. When I finished, his mane looked like a lion's, truly impressive.
Then he ordered me to bring in his breakfast. I hurried out of the chambers to ask the silent royal guards where I can get some food, and they showed me to a dining room just at the beginning of the hall. I peeked in and found lush breakfast being served on the table. I borrowed a tray from one of the servants and put on some bread, eggs, ham and strong morning tea. I carried all this to Thorin to lay it in front if him, and when I turned away to carry in some more - for there was much more prepared - he stopped me.
âThat's enough. Sit,â and he gestured towards the other armchair.
I sat down hesitantly. He took a good bite of the bread.
âYou did well with the stitching.â
âThank you, Your Majesty,â I just hoped he would not start evaluating my other skills. But he did not, surprisingly.
He ate in silence, and I had nothing to say either, so I watched the morning sun rise out in the distance.
âYou may leave now,â he dismissed me when he finished his breakfast. I took the tray and before walking out of the chamber, I remembered to give the curtsy. My leg got caught in the long dress, I stumbled and nearly fell down with the tray in my hands, but managed to maintain balance.
I shot a quick glance at Thorin, prepared for a fight.
It took a few weeks until my companion servant taught me the proper service. Then he left me perform my duties alone. The first time I knocked on Thorin's door felt awkward but I got used to it. The longer time I spent in Erebor, with more confidence I moved in his chambers. Thorin did not speak to me and I kept my silence as well. He made a small compromise though by helping himself in his clothes, which I appreciated a lot.
One morning, we sat at the table as usual, Thorin taking his time while eating his breakfast. It was quite chilly that day, I did not sleep well at night and felt weak. I remembered my empty stomach which was normally not a problem. I was looking at Thorin's plate impatiently, when I heard the hungry noise come from my belly. Thorin stopped chewing.
âAre you coming to my chambers hungry all this time?â
âYes, Your Majesty.â I lowered my eyes.
âThen I have been torturing you since the beginning,â he said accusingly. When I did not reply, he pushed his plate in front of me.
âEat. Next time I want you to come with full stomach.â
âThank you⊠you did not need to-â
âNonsense! You cannot serve me well if you are this weak.â
I shot an angered look at him, but the food in front of me looked too delicious not to taste it. I swallowed my words and took a good bite instead.
âClean up when you are finished,â he said before taking his leave.
The king's mornings mostly consisted of attending to state affairs in the audience hall or discussions with his generals and advisors. This happened several times a week. In more quiet days, he sat at his desk in the study, reading through parchments and signing some of them. It was my task to tend to this room as well, but he did not seem to notice me working. In those days, he always ordered me to bring him some wine with water in a tall carafa. I watched him absorbed in the work in front of him, often unconsciously frowning, and when he needed some more time to think about a problem, he took his pipe and smoked long enough to reach a conclusion. Sometimes he strode across the library and I had to get out of his way while dusting the books.
âCan you read?â he asked me once when he caught me trying to decipher a title of an old manuscript.
âI can read our alphabet, Your Majesty. I know the runes but cannot read them. There are lots of stones inscribed by them in Norway. This script I do not know,â I showed at a line of books bearing very gentle and intricate tall letters. âAnd this looks familiar to Latin alphabet. It's so strange to find it in this place.â My eyes were shining with enthusiasm. He took a large book out of a shelf and passed it to me.
âThe tales of the dwarvish kingdom. Collected myths, stories and legends of the ancient folks. Common tongue edition.â I opened the book, happy to understand it, and flipped over a few pages before looking up at Thorin. He looked somewhat surprised.
âYou are educated then.â
âOf course I am. I told you the truth.â
âYou can read, but you still cannot take care of yourself.â
âWhat? Of course I could take care of myself in my world! I lived on my own!â
âEnough of that, woman! Take the book and read it in your free time.â
âI will do so. But you cannot accuse me of such incapabilities all the time! Why does it matter so much to you?!â
Thorin's eyes darkened. I watched his expression change to that of deep anger⊠and something else.
âThere is something in you,â he moved one step closer, and was looking down at me now. âSomething that calls out my own demons.â With that, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders and in one swift movement pulled my dress all the way down to my elbows. My arms got stuck in the cloth and I couldn't move them, shocked. He slided his eyes across my bare skin and cupped my breasts with both of his hands. They were warm and strong in the cold air and I blushed deeply at the sudden pained desire in my core.
âSee? I could take you right here on the table and you'd do nothing against it.â He pressed his body against mine and held my hands behind my back. He pulled at my hair so I was looking up at him now, my neck bent back, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
âDon`t! Please,â I managed to say, terror and unwanted passion mixing in me, running down my thighs. Soft moan escaped his lips, and I felt his erection pressing hard against my thigh.
âSo vulnerable,â he breathed into my hair. He held both my hands down with his one hand, and with his free hand traced my cheek, neck, breasts and my bottom. He squeezed it tight, and I gulped. âSo vulnerable, yet you don't fight to save yourself. Are you that submissive or is it the shock of what you have gone through?â Now he was breathing heavily, and I felt his hand slide up my thigh, emanating warmth even through the cloth of my dress. He reached in between my thighs, and I cried out at the hot wave the touch sent through my body. Still, I could not accept him.
âPlease don't!â I whispered with tears of desperation in my eyes, and made an attempt to move away from him.
âAnd yet you respond to me!â he breathed, his eyes filling with dark passion. He was holding me even more tightly now, running his hands all over my breasts and thighs, squeezing at my buttocks, pressing me closer to his body as if he wanted to absorb me, sink me in. When he reached for the bottom of my dress and started to pull it over my knees, I realized what he was doing and cried out loudly, tears streaming down my face freely. Surprised, he looked me in the eyes, and I saw sudden change in him. He looked around the room, as if remembering where we are and what is happening, and he let go off me. He pulled my dress back up my shoulders and took a few steps back. Then he turned his back to me to lean against the window.
âYou may leave now,â he dismissed me sternly. I ran out of the chamber, the ancient manuscript all but forgotten on the ground where it fell. At the edge of my sight, I saw Thorin reach out for his pipe.
So there goes Thorin :) Hope you enjoyed!
I was thinking a lot about the languages and what would a stranger be able to comprehend in Middle-earth, and as the dwarves were used to speak Westron (resembling Anglo-saxon and old Norse), having English and Nordic origins, it would help Kate to communicate with them.
I was so afraid of the morning that I could not sleep. I tossed and turned on my bed until I gave up and just stared wide-eyed in the darkness. I did not understand what was going on in me, all the opposing feelings of fear, despair and passion, but I knew I had to do something otherwise I would go insane.
I silently opened the door and walked out of my chamber, down a few staircases where I knew the kitchen was, along with royal storerooms and staff quarters. I stopped at one of them and, holding my breath, pressed the door handle. To my surprise, the door opened and I effortlessly sneaked in. Leaving the door slightly opened so that the torchlight came in, I entered the storeroom. All around were standing countless wooden boxes, barrels, sacks and glass vessels, full of supplies and unguarded. On the other side of the large room stood wooden chests with neatly folded royal bed linen and various fabrics. I did not find there what I wanted, so I tried another room. This time I was successful. Before me opened a real treasure of servant clothing and various household utensils - hundreds of candles, piles of soap bars, ropes, working tools. I opened several of the chests and dug through the stored clothes, which to my surprise, were winter fur clothes! I took a pair of thick pants, a thick woolen tunic and a snow-white hooded coat, and in the next chest I found a pair of boots. They did not fit me perfectly but that had to do. On my way back, I packed a bag with food supplies for a about a week, and returned to my room. I knew the front gate closed for the night, so I had to be patient.
The morning found me fully awake, staring onto the vast white plains where my fate would be decided. I had no idea where I would be heading, but the tinderbox which I had taken did provide at least a slight chance of surviving a week until I found a friendly village. Providing I would be able to use it. The gate opened with the first sun rays, and I knew I did not have much time until Thorin found out something was wrong.
It started to snow. I dressed in a hurry, threw the bag with supplies over my shoulder, and walked out of the chamber without ever turning back.
The gate was already open. I sneaked out among other travellers, holding my head down and slightly bending at knees while passing the guards. It was surprisingly easy. I decided to avoid the city which rose in front of Erebor - it would be my hunters` first choice. Instead, I walked over a wide bridge and headed in the direction other than the one from which we originally came the other day. It was snowing heavily now, and I smiled for myself. The snow will cover my tracks. With a little luck, they will not find me.
I walked for about an hour on the wide road, passing occasional travellers. Their numbers grew scarcer with time, as the land opened to its vastness. I started to feel uneasy, imagining what might be going on under the mountain right now, and decided to leave the road, just in case. I followed it from a distance though, hiding behind rocks and trees, which slowed me down, but I felt safer. After some time, I heard horses running by and shouts of men, but if they were searching for me, I did not know. I pressed against a rock and waited, thankful for my white coat. When I heard nothing anymore, I decided to continue on my way.
After a few hours, I sat down under a tree to rest for a while and eat a little bread and salted mutton. I heard no sounds of hooves by the evening, which encouraged me a little. I headed far into the wilderness, off the road, to find a group of trees, which could not really be called a forest, but still they offered some cover. I pressed my hurting body inside a large broken tree trunk which formed a narrow hole, and half sitting, closed my eyes to rest for the night. I did not dare to light a fire though, and was afraid that I might freeze to death, so when I started to feel too cold, I stood up to walk for a while, jumped and ran around, and then went back to my place. I would not fall asleep anyway, not with all the adrenaline flowing in my veins.
In the morning I decided to light a small fire to warm up my frozen breakfast and when I took off my gloves, found my fingers numb and hard to move. There was a prickling sensation to them. I cursed but after a while managed to regain some sensibility. After a few tries I lit the fire, and I praised myself for having paid attention while the servant girl tended to the fireplace in my old Erebor chamber. Then I ate hungrily and made myself hot black tea. Warmed up but tired from the sleep deprivation, I strode back to the road and followed it further on. I had no idea where I was heading, but was sure there would have to be some settlements scattered along it. It was a matter of luck if I managed to find one before I froze to death, but I was willing to take the risk. Not that I had a choice anyway.
As the evening began to fall, I once again left the safety of the road and headed towards some scattered rocks and trees in the distance. I was unbelievably exhausted and decided to have a good night's sleep by the fire. How surprised I was to find a cottage hidden just behind them! Smoke was coming out of its chimney, and I walked towards it to inspect who was inside. I saw an old woman through the window standing by a pot and cooking. Thick fog started to fall, heavy and smooth as milk in a jar, and suddenly I was desperate for a warm bed and human presence. Tears stung in my eyes as I longed for someone to say they were sorry for me. After a few minutes of uncertainty, I decided to knock on the door.
âWho`s there?â a suspicious voice came from the inside.
âI am a lonely traveller and I need a cover for the night. May I come in, please?â I tried to sound as friendly as I possibly could. I even smiled in the falling dusk.
The door opened just a few centimeters and an old judging eye glared at me. âDo you have money?â
I hesitated and then answered: âI can share my provisions, good woman.â
After this, the door opened and the old woman sneaked out to check if I was really alone. âCome in then, darling.â
I stepped into the house, which consisted of the single large room. It looked rather clean, with herbs hung above the fireplace where cooked what looked like dinner. In the corner stood bed and a wooden chest, otherwise the place was empty.
âYou can sleep on the ground by the fire. Your coat looks very noble - I hope you can bear such conditions, lady.â
âOh, I am happy for that, thank you,â I said, while trying to suppress an uneasy feeling.
âWhere are you travelling all alone in winter?â
âFamily matters. I have to visit my distant relatives.â
She nodded knowingly, and did not ask further. She handed me a bowl of stew and I took out a loaf of bread which we shared. I massaged my fingers which once again felt numb and held them close to the fire. They had swollen since the morning and felt itchy. I mentally cursed.
We did not speak much. She looked like she did not need attention despite living this lonely life, and I was too exhausted to initiate a conversation. She placed a rag in front of the fireplace, I put off my boots and coat and laid down to rest. It must have taken seconds until I fell asleep because I do not remember anything after my head touched the floor.
What is this feeling? Someone is touching me⊠Someone is touching me! Wake up, quick! I struggled to open my eyes heavy from the unnatural sleep. When I finally came to my senses, I saw the old woman kneeling beside me, searching my pockets. I yelled and kicked her. âWhat the hell are you doing?!â
She did not reply and struggled to finish her search. But she was weaker and when she realized she could not possibly win, she reached for the poker and held it in front of her, pointing at my chest. âGet out of my house!â
I glanced around only to find out my clothes and bag were gone. âWhere's my coat?!â
âGet⊠out!â she spat again and reached out for a blow. The poker swung dangerously close to my chin and I backed towards the door, my head swimming. She must have added something in my stew.
âGive me back my clothes! You can't have me walk out like this without boots and...uhhh... coat!â I demanded, reaching for the door handle, and when she made another attempt to hit me, I flung the door open and fell down a flight of steps, landing hard on the icy ground. I shook my head in disbelief. I felt warm blood streaming down my face in a thin string. The snow under my bare hands and feet stung, the blood drops forming tiny scarlet flowers, and the cruel truth struck me hard. I will die here. There is no way out.
I took in the chilly morning air to brace myself for my final stand, and struggling to my feet, I bumped into something. It was a heavy boot coated with fur and metal pieces. I looked up in despair to meet Dwalin`s gaze. He stood there with his hands across his chest, taking in the situation.
âDwalinâŠâ I whispered out of breath.
âWhat dwarvish scum have you brought here!â The woman yelled. âGet⊠out, I said!â The poker made a circle in the air, aiming for my head. Dwalin caught the weapon with his one hand, with the other grabbed the woman by her throat and yanked her to one side so that they were now both facing me, the enemy kicking and screaming. Stopping for a brief moment, his gaze met something behind my back.
I turned my head and gulped.
Thorin was watching us from the back of his black stallion just a few meters away. Around him a group of soldiers and a few other familiar faces. Motionless, his wild mane flowing in thick messy ropes down his shoulders, across the blue cloak I knew. His expression impenetrable, detached as a king should be, only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him and the watchful night he must have spent in search for me. He slightly nodded in approval. With one smooth move, Dwalin slit the woman's throat, the blade breaking her skin as if it was of pure butter. She gasped for breath and collapsed to the ground, dead in seconds, her blood forming a red carpet all around. It was as simple as that. Taking life is the easiest thing in the world for a warrior.
Thorin dismounted and strode towards us slowly. He turned the corpse around with his foot and spotted a dwarvish golden bracelet on its hand. He snarled at the soldiers: âSearch the house!â and they sped in to fulfill his order.
Then he turned his attention to me. I dared not look him in the eyes, nor speak, so instead I just stared at the ground where the corpse was lying in the most unnatural position, its glossy eyes wide open. He reached out, pulling me towards the corpse, and forced both of my hands in the blood-stained snow. I struggled feebly, not daring to resist him in the open. My stomach felt weak, and I would have vomited, had it not been empty.
âHow does it feel, slave?!â he spat, his voice full of hate. He was right. Her blood was on my hands. I killed her. Had I not escaped⊠Tears of shame and regret stung in my eyes. My voice shook: âI'm sorry, your MajestyâŠâ
I risked a quick look at him now. Just one brief moment, and what I saw in his eyes made my heart sink to the very bottom. I understood that this time I had overstepped way too far, far beyond anything he could ever forgive. I had betrayed him, his trust in me, and all was lost. I saw endless anger, and what was even worse, endless disappointment. His jaw tightened as his icy blue gaze met mine.
âI'm sorry, Your Majesty⊠I'm so sorryâŠâ I whispered only for him to hear, keeping my eyes low. He did not reply, and I started to sob. Suddenly I felt I was losing him, and the realization struck me unprepared. I needed his attention, in the strangest of ways. I needed his strength and guidance in this world I did not come to understand. He did what he considered right, from his point of view, even though I failed to recognize it. I was ashamed to the core. âI`m so sorry⊠if only I could take things back⊠I would never have leftâŠâ I pushed out in between the sobs. The blood stang in my eyes and I wiped it away with my cuff, it was not important now. âWill you ever forgive me? Please? I was so afraid...â I dared to look up at him.
He did not let me speak though. He made a silencing gesture and my apology froze on my lips all forgotten. He seemed to be judging the bleeding wound on my head for a brief moment. Then, probably having come to a decision it was not that heavy, he nodded towards Dwalin who helped me to my feet. âLet her dress,â he commanded darkly, âThen tie her to my horse.â My eyes widened and Dwalin grinned as he proceeded to fulfill the order. He retrieved my dress from the hut and threw it to me. I dressed hastily and he led me away to the horse. There he tied my hands with a rough rope and fastened the other end to the horn.
After a while the soldiers who searched the house came out. âYour Majesty,â saluted one of them, holding in front of Thorin a sack filled with golden trinkets, jugs and candlesticks. âThe witch must have stolen from more, who knows what other crimes she had committed.â I shrugged. I was supposed to be dead by the evening.
âSo much for a fair trial,â Thorin growled. âLeave the corpse as it is. The wolves will do the work.â Then he strode to his horse and mounted it. He checked if my rope was tied securely to his saddle and we set off.
We strode at a steady pace and it started to snow again. After a few hours I grew really tired and the walking exhausted me more than I would have thought. I dragged my freezing feet after me in the once-again deep snow but fought my body's needs, pushing it to its limits. I did not object how they treated me, I very much deserved it, and was willing to yield as far as I could. Obedience was the route to Thorin's heart.
We walked the whole day with just a single half-an-hour-stop for the men to eat and relieve their bladders, and then we went on. I was not given anything to eat and I did not dare to ask for a break for myself. I doubted they would let me go pee unguarded. So when Thorin left for a brief moment, I did what I needed where I was squatting in the snow, still bound to his horse. Nobody seemed to care.
It was surprising to find out that my route along the main road took twice the time it should have, as we saw the Lonely mountain rising in front of us the very same evening. It stood out from the snow-filled plain as a large finger pointing angrily to the skies. Behold the kingdom of the dwarves!, it said, and I had a sudden deja-vu. Just a few months ago I was entering this mountain in a very similar situation, weak and wounded. What had changed since then? I felt I was running in circles like a bug in an empty bowl, never finding its way out.
 Love's raised horns sound their sweet surrender
 Her defences fall debris
 I shall storm the gates where fates defend her
 Her heart will belong to me
(lyrics by Cradle of Filth)
The dwarves dismounted the horses which were immediately taken over by staff and led to the stables to be tended to. We climbed the ten floors over the ground, on which I spent the last of my strengths. All I wanted was to lie down and sleep in my warm bed. Any bed. Just sleep and never wake up.
When I recognized Thorin's private quarters though, I rallied in anticipation of what was about to come. Unsure and vulnerable I was led through the red corridor, and I took in the familiar scent. Thorin entered his chamber and Dwalin pushed me inside in front of him. Then he closed the door from the inside and stood behind me with his arms crossed on his chest. Thorin immediately gestured towards my clothes and Dwalin stepped in to undress me, quickly and violently. I stood there all naked now but in a thin tunic, but Dwalin did not do me the last favour. He tore the tunic from my shoulders and it fell to the ground in two poor pieces. I covered what I could with my hands and stood there shaking.
Thorin took off his heavy coat and threw it on the bed. Then he walked towards me, slowly but ever so menacingly, and I saw his expression change from the regal mask he wore in the outside to the real Thorin, his anger now unleashed. He reached out and hit me hard, so hard I lay on the floor in a second. I touched my reddened cheek, shocked, but did not speak to defend myself. I deserved it. I struggled to my feet again, very slowly and unsure if I was allowed to, and he hit me once again, with even more strength. Now I was sobbing openly, my bladder betraying me as I lay there shaking and exhausted, and I hid my face behind my hands to cover my shame. A puddle was forming on the carpet under me.
âWhat the hell did you think you were doing?!â he stormed. âEscape from me like that would save you from anything, from yourself?! Do you have an idea what it means for me as a king? That I cannot handle my own slave! How can I rule a kingdom when my slaves do not submit? What message does it send to my subjects, my subjects who watch my every move, did you think of this when you were running away like a sick bitch?! I was too benevolent to you!â
âI had no idea⊠I had no idea.... Y0ur Majesty⊠I'm sorry,â I whispered between sobs, not daring to look up and meet his gaze.
âNo, indeed you had no idea. Any dwarf in your position would now beg me to let him take his life in front of my eyes, to repay his debt and unloyalty. But you⊠you,â he was searching for words. I heard his steps as he was marching around the room.
âI`m so sorry, Your Majesty. I will do anything you wish,â I said, being pretty sure I did not have the guts to offer my life. He smirked knowingly. âIf only you forgave me...â
âNo. It will not be that easy, slave. I will make sure you repay to the very last bit,â he hissed, and I heard him kneel down beside me. He took me by my hair and lifted my face so that I had no other choice but meet his gaze. He held the contact for a brief moment, then looked down at the wet carpet under me.
âVery good,â he said, smirking. âWe will continue with the hair now.â
With that, he took out his long knife and cut off a handful of my hair. And then another. I winced, placing both of my hands on his chest, squeezing the soft fabric of his tunic, partly to steady myself, partly to hold him at the arm's length.
âDo not move!â he commanded. âI am taking half of your hair now. It will betray your crime, from now until it grows back. Until then you will live in shame among us. Should you ever fail me again, all the rest will be cut away, and you will be sold to the slave-traders of the enemy. You are given one more chance, slave. Remember that well. Is that understood?â he growled darkly.
âYes,â I pushed out between sobs.
âGood. Now don't move unless you want to get hurt.â And he placed the cold blade on my scalp and cut away the first hair, just at the roots, dangerously close to the skin. He worked quickly but efficiently, and I held my breath to minimize my movements. When he finished, I touched my head to explore the damage. The look on my face must have shown my deepest horror, because he returned his: âThat will teach you manners,â while sheathing the knife.
I waited for his permission to stand up and leave, but it did not come. He slowly strode to a wooden chest from which he produced a large leather belt. For a brief moment he weighed it in his hand, as if judging if it was the right tool for my punishment. Having come to a conclusion, his features hardened, and I knew what was to come. My heart was beating its way out of my chest and my head went dizzy from the cold fear spreading in my veins. And then there he was again, breaking my weak struggle with extra force anger gave him, yanking me fiercely to lie face down on the floor. He placed just the tip of his foot on my shoulder, pinning me securely down in the position, and that was when I literally started to shake from the anticipation of pain.
He said one word - âTen!â - and I heard the air breaking on the belt as it fell down and I screamed in pain. Then came other nine blows, each as slow and heavy as the former, well aimed from my back down to my bottom, and I wrung and cried and pleaded, but to no avail. When he finished, my back was all fire and blood and I was left with no power to move or speak.
The world was fading in black and white and I heard Thorin utter: âDress her and take her downstairs. Through the main staircase for all to see.â
Then I stopped to feel and drifted to a world where no sounds dwell.
I awoke to absolute darkness. I felt the cold rock under me bite in my skin and wet air chilling my bare feet. I was lying face down on a piece of thin cloth which was half covering me, but did me no good in fact. I was hurting in every way, not just my damaged back and bottom. The worst was the hot bruise I felt stinging on my cheek. I did not care where I was. There came no sound, just the echoing silence of my own troubled breath and water dripping in a thin stream somewhere close. After some time, my eyes got used to the darkness and I recognized a few shadowy shapes. The door. The tiny square room. The sharp surface of the walls ripped out of the mountain flesh. The empty bucket in the corner. Of course. I closed my eyes and dozed off.
When I opened them again, I realized there was subtle light coming through a tiny hole in the door. Then I heard footsteps approaching and silent chatter. The door opened with a screech and a tall thin figure walked in.
Amarth knelt next to me, placing a lantern close by. He brought in fresh air and the scent of winter forest.
âSave your strength, my lady, â he spoke in a hurry. âMy visit here is against the King's orders for you to be left on your own. If you understand.â I was too tired to even nod, so I lay there, waiting while he examined my wounds. âIf you allow me.â And he lifted my tunic hastily, up to my shoulders, baring my body as it was, full of fresh wounds in the torn skin. I did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. He cleansed the skin quickly and put an ointment on the wounds along with fresh bandages. Then he examined my hands and shook his head. âSqueeze my fingers, my lady.â I did as he said, weakly. âI cannot do any more now, I am afraid. Drink this, it will do you good,â and he produced a tiny flacon out of nowhere and made me swallow its contents. It tasted bitter but sent hot waves through my stomach and veins nearly immediately. I felt a little better.
Then he stood up and knocked on the door. âYou must be strong, my lady. I will do what I can but given the situationâŠâ And he left, the door closing behind him with a loud thud.
I dozed off to the troubled sleep again. I woke and dreamt and soon the boundaries between sleep and wake blurred until I no longer knew what was really happening. I saw faces leaning in from the dark, dwarvish faces, then snow fell and I lay on the forest floor under starry skies. I felt terribly hot and the snow brought away my pain. The mountain talked to me. It spoke its anger of being cut in pieces by the merciless hammers and mattocks. It sang to me of the glory of its immense underground treasures which still lay hidden from greedy eyes. Of deep crystalline lakes of cool fresh water in its depths. I saw myself lying on the ground in a deep underground dungeon, barely breathing, and my head felt strangely light, my senses sharpened. I rose above the mountain, playing along, chasing the winds, and in the labyrinth of the corridors beneath saw thousands of tiny lives moving, dwarves and animals, working, fighting, laughing in bitterness and joy. I saw the king in his lonely chamber, sleeping his restless sleep. Then the mountain spoke " Return to the lake when the storm rages"... Â and I started falling back to my body through an abyss, backwards, facing the skies.
I opened my eyes gasping for breath. I saw Dwalin`s face leaning in and mutter something, but I could not make up the words. All fell into the deafening silence again.
 âMy lady, let me help you now that I can,â Amarth offered, placing a large bowl of water next to me. I blinked hazily, my head still dizzy. I peeked out of the window. Bright winter sun came shining in the chamber, my chamber, my bed. Cosy fire was lit in the fireplace, its flames licking at apple tree wood, as I recognized by the scent. Amarth was seated by me on the bed among various healing necessities he had brought with him, and by the doors a dwarvish guard stood, expressionless.
 âThank you Amarth,â I tried to mouth but no sound came from my cracked lips. I coughed. âHow longâŠ?â
 âDo not speak. I am allowed to talk to you only regarding the matters of your health. If you understand.â He explained silently and I glanced at the guard. I nodded and took the first look at my hurting hands.  The skin had turned red and dark brown at some places and tiny blisters started forming. I moved my fingers to try them and hissed in pain.
 âHere,â Amarth said, placing the bowl closer. âThey have been frostbitten. Put them in. We must slowly bring them to normal temperature.â I obeyed, frowning at the movement. I did not know where the pain came from as the fingers felt numb. In the meantime, Amarth examined me thoroughly, his attentive gaze stopping at my once long hair and the skin of my face. It must have shown some change in colour because he shook his head disapprovingly. I stared at my hands, feeling blush rising to my cheeks. He did not comment on my state though, instead he placed a piece of clean cloth on my skin. It felt soothingly cold, and tears stung in my eyes.    Look at where you are now, you silly   , I thought to myself.    For them all to see   .
 âCan I look in the mirror please?â
 Amarth hesitated for a moment before holding the mirror in front of me. At first I could not believe my eyes. I did not recognize the broken person staring at me from beyond the messy, blood-cloaked hair, at least what remained of it. It was neatly shaven on the whole left side of my skull, just as close to the bone as possible, making me look like a man. Like a defeated man. Exposing my bruised left cheek where Thorin's hand fell twice. I gasped and averted my gaze.
 Amarth stayed for about half an hour, helping me to sip a few spoons of hot broth, while my hands bathed. Then he left along with the guard, promising to come back soon.
Amarth indeed did return, in fact he returned several times that day, and the days that followed. Each time bringing a bowl with water warmer than before, and slowly I started to feel my fingers tingling as they sucked in the warmth.
âLet us see if your sense of touch comes back again. I cannot promise it will, though,â he stated between changing of my bandages, and I sighed.
I spent several days in bed just like this, hurting, exhausted and alone. Nobody came to see me, not even Gloin or Dis, and I felt trapped as if in prison, a much lighter and warmer prison, but it did not make much difference. The door remained locked from the outside now. As the long lonely hours passed, a single thought of opening the window and just jumping out crossed my mind. I pondered on it for a brief moment, but decided against it. I did not have the guts to kill myself, and what was the worst, I did not know if it was good or not.
About a week after that Thorin showed up. It was early morning, I was staying in bed as usual, all tucked in the covers. He strode into the room, wearing dark leather pants and a burgundy tunic, and the air changed as he glared at me from under his thick eyebrows. He walked around the room as a lion examining his territory, checking on if his orders had been carried out to the last bit. Then he stood above me, arms crossed on his chest, and uncomfortable silence filled the room. My heart started to pound faster, and I looked down to avoid his gaze.
âSo,â he started, and his voice sounded deep but strangely cold. âDo we still want to fly? Or have you changed your mind as women like to do so often?â
âNo! I will not try to escape any more, your Majesty. I would like to apologize to you, I really would like toâŠâ I whispered, keeping my eyes downcast. âI know I had overstepped too far. I have failed you. I am sorry for that. I will not leave unless you wish me to, I promise. I swear.â
He snorted. âNo, you will not.â
He sat down on my bed, his features stern. âShow me,â he said, pointing to my hands. I stretched them out meekly and he studied them with a frown.
âYou wore gloves, did you not?â He interrogated, his brows slightly lifting in surprise.
âI did, your Majesty.â
âYou seem weaker than other women.â
âPerhaps⊠I cannot judge on dwarvish women, I barely know any,â I mouthed slowly, carefully weighing every word on my tongue. âI am used to cold, butâŠâ I stopped as my voice broke.
He did not interrupt me, which felt even worse. Instead, he moved closer and leaned in to watch me intently. When he spotted the last traces of a bruise on my cheek, he frowned. I blushed deep red, avoiding eye contact. I felt his one finger under my chin, gently forcing my face up. My chest was filled with heavy emotions ready to burst out at any second by then. He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb, ever so gently, stroking my cheek with a feathery movement.
âI do not wish to see any more bruises on this face or body. It is a shame to waste such beauty for nothing. You must be wise, little one.â He stroked me again, gently. âI do not wish to hurt you, you see. I do not wish to break you. Is it so difficult to just submit to me?â He asked patiently, as if scolding a child. I guess this was the closest he could ever get to just saying I'm sorry, in his own strange way. He smelled of new leather and spices, and it reminded me of the day we had met.
âYou⊠you scared me, my lord. I am sorry for what I did, but I was just too terrified of you.â
âHow come? It has been several months since I found you. You should have already forgotten the incident. You have been taken care of. You have home and food, you are safe now.â
Seeing my expression, he asked directly: âDo you fear men?â Such a plain question and such a strong reaction.
ââYes,ââ I nodded desperately in between sobs.
He exhaled loudly, never stopping his interrogation. âDid the orc rape you? Answer me honestly,â he asked darkly, clenching his fists now. His gaze hung on my lips but I could not answer. I just could not. He swore and hit the side of the bed angrily. Then he stood up and started pacing around the chamber while I sobbed. His anger made him look savage and unpredictable. After a while he sat down again, more composed.
âKate, you are so very different. Any dwarvish woman would have already recovered in your place, whatever it is that happened to you. This is not possible.â
âBut I'm  human  ! I don`t have your stamina, obviously! I have my bruises and they may last until I die in the first place. I need time, a lot of time, your Majesty. And although I'm trying, I keep on doing things which in your world are understood as mistakes. I'm sorry for that. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do to make things right, but I am the way I am,â I said shakily.
He watched me closely, the storm in his eyes betraying his feelings. He was breathing heavily now. He leaned in menacingly, although I think it was not his intention to frighten me any more. It was the anger rising. He touched my shoulder, the line of my neck and stroked my cheek slowly, consciously. Our faces were now so close I could feel his breath on my ear and heat emanating from him. He remained like that for a few seconds, solid as a statue, and when I did not flinch, he gently nibbled at my earlobe. It sent warm wave through my body, to my surprise.
âNo harm will come to you in these halls, Kate,â he whispered in a deep set growl. âI will give you your time. Although, given your quick responses to my advances, I think it might be less time you would consciously choose.â
I gulped at that and he laughed throatily. It was the first time I saw him actually laugh, and it made him look so charming that my heart ached. He pressed a chaste kiss on my lips and straightened his back.
âNow,â he said much more cheerfully, âIt took Amarth whole day to convince me to let him examine you. You should thank him for that. He says your hands should heal soon, and I hope they do,â he said, the warm sparkle never leaving his eyes. I realised Amarth did not tell him about his secret visit in the dungeon, but I kept my mouth shut. Thorin looked so boyishly carefree that I did not have the heart to ruin it for him. Or me.
âMy fingers still feel numb. I hope he is right. I'm starting to lose faith in elvish medicine.â
âDon`t, Kate. They will get better.â He took my hands in his, careful not to touch the blisters, his palms flat against mine.
âMay I borrow a book from your library? Any book, really. I`ve spent here so much time alone.â
âAnd you will carry on in that way, Kate. Your crime is not yet forgotten. But I will do you the favour, yes.â
We remained like that for quite some time. We spoke of unimportant things, such as weather in these lands, food available in winter and trade with friendly nations. I tried to explain to him what chocolate tasted like back in Norway, and he said he would have his cook prepare sweets better than my chocolate. I could not believe we could ever have such a nice conversation. This new Thorin felt very refreshing.
He left after about an hour, with half-smile on his lips.
âRest now,â he said, and I obeyed.
 My days grew long and nights even longer. I nearly forgot how humans (and dwarves) looked as all kept Thorin's orders not to interfere. Thorin did not come back for other two weeks but Dis started appearing instead, and Amarth, who spoke to me again.
 I was astonished when Dis stormed in one day to hand me over a book I was already familiar with:    The tales of the dwarvish kingdom. Collected myths, stories and legends of the ancient folks.   I was so grateful that I laughed happily at her, thanking her that I would have something to occupy myself with.
 I started to eagerly read the manuscript which looked quite old, its pages yellowed with age and letters written in strange shapes, but still readable. It contained various stories which to me sounded like fairy tales, but nice to ponder on. Until I came across a short record of two men who emerged from a lake in Rhovanion during an evil storm to show themselves to astonished native people. It stated it had happened three centuries ago and their further fate remained unknown. I was shocked. Was this just a coincidence? Why did Thorin lend me the book? I decided to learn more when given the chance, but then I remembered the promise I had given to Thorin and my heart sank. No, I cannot do this, I cannot leave even if I knew how to do it. I swore to him. Damn!
 It took another week until I was let out of my chamber to resume my morning duties. When Thorin's door opened for the first time after the ages of my solitude, I had a strange deja vu of him peering at me from the entrance, his dark figure against light of the day. I made a small curtsy, keeping my eyes low, greeting the king silently, and he let me in with a slight nod.
 I poured fresh water into the washing basin, trying not to spill a drop. I felt his gaze on my back, he did not move nor speak, but I knew he was there, still in the shadows of the early morning. The mountain was  sleepily silent, but I could hear my heart pounding its way out of my chest. I finally finished what I was doing and stood by the toilette table, clean towel hanging from my arm. I waited for him to speak first.
 âSo, my little slave has returned. How does it feel?â
 âThank you for asking, your Majesty. I am glad I am back. It is better than I would have expected.â
 âOf course you are,â he smirked, lowering above the basin.
 I did not answer. Instead, I studied the chamber for any changes. It remained the same, dark and luxurious, suffocating with pompousness and with what I could call a certain sense of weight of the crown. Could there ever be such a thing? An orphaned harp stood where it had been left, with no trace of dust, but still it felt out of place here.
 âUmm⊠Does anyone play it?â I pointed at the instrument after a while of odd silence when he was washing his face.
 Thorin looked up at me with a surprised expression.
 âNo, I do not play it anymore. Since the dragon. Strangely, it survived all those years. The strings would not be usable anymore, though.â He was studying it, as if trying to remember what it actually was and if it meant anything to him.
 âIt once was, aye.â He abruptly turned back to the basin and poured some water over his head. I handed him the towel but he shook his head in disapproval. âYour turn.â
 I swallowed and took one step closer to rub the water away from his skin and hair. He stood tall and I could not properly reach where I needed, and he did not even try to make it easier for me. He was playing with me, and obviously enjoying it with a hint of smirk.
 âCome closer,â he advised, and a sudden thought came to my mind. I circled him to step behind his back, indeed closer, and reached out with the towel. I smiled to myself for this little victory, but he growled and pulled me in front him. âResistant, are we?â he muttered darkly and pulled me even closer, squeezing my shoulders in his iron grip. My breathing quickened, and I felt panic rise once again in my chest, ice cold as the mountain in winter.
 âNo, please⊠Iâm notâŠâ I whispered, keeping my eyes downcast.
 âYou have turned pale,â he said, holding me at arms` length to look at me properly, then abruptly loosened his grip. âGo and sit there.â He pointed to the armchair by the window. I obeyed quickly, grateful and relieved, and rested as he had ordered. He walked towards the table, poured water from a large jar in a glass and handed it to me.
 I hesitantly took it and swallowed a few sips, trying to compose myself.
 âHave you finished the book?â he asked out of the blue, seating himself in the opposite chair.
 I blinked. âI have, your Majesty.â
 âThank you for it, I enjoyed it a lot. It made me understand a few things about these lands.â I felt a little better, my courage returning to me with every passing second. I wondered where was this charming and warm man I had talked to the last time, and if he would ever show up again.
 âWhich are?â he lifted his eyebrows.
 âWell, your culture, your beliefs. I found one of the stories particularly importantâŠâ I looked down at my hands with a pause. He did not ask which one, so I glanced at him and saw his features had hardened, menace written in his eyes.
 Oh, he knew very well what I was referring to.
 âSo⊠if you are asking if I am planning to escape to the lake because of it, then the answer is no. No, I'm keeping my promise. My place is here until you decide otherwise. Although I'd like to explore that possibility, if you allow, of course.â
 âYou are starting to learn your manners.â The tips of his mouth curved in a half smile.
 âThank you, your Majesty.â
 I have passed the test. This time.
 âYou need to get used to me, Kate,â were the words which shook me right next morning. I was standing at the open window to let the fresh morning air in, making up the king-size bed, arranging the pillows neatly.
 Thorin walked out of his closet with bare chest, throwing his tunic on the bed.
 âIt will happen whether you fight it or not, we both know it. The sooner you let go, the better for you. No more excuses.â
 He closed the distance between us in two long steps, reaching out for me as naturally as for a glass of water. He pulled me to him before I could react and forced my arms around his waist.
 âShhh⊠I will not hurt you,â he proclaimed in a soothing whisper and stood still, his arms hanging by his hips. I let him go with a silent scream but he grabbed my hands immediately and wrapped them again around his naked waist.
 âDo not make me repeat myself,â he growled, holding me securely in place where he wanted to have me once again. I fought shakily, but he was too strong for me to win this. I panicked and yelled my âPlease donât!â at him, but he squeezed both my wrists with one hand. With the other he patted my hair briefly.
 âDo not fight, and I will not advance,â he announced and waited for the words to sink in. He was looking down at me, his head slightly tilted to one side, his eyes searching for the sign in mine that I understood. A waterfall of dark hair cascaded down his shoulder, making him look feral and playful at the same time. I breathed out and gave up my fight, just to try the effect.
 Thorin stood still, eyeing me from his height, and when I did not move for a few seconds, he gently pressed his fingers to the small of my back and pushed me to him so that I was now leaning on him.
 âBetter,â he hummed into my hair. It felt very odd, I was not prepared for this delicate show of intimacy. I was still shaking, but when he did not try to touch me in any other way, I just gave in and stood still, taking in his masculine scent and the softness of his skin. I felt his chest move as he breathed, his lips slightly parted as he was watching me - his prey, waiting, and I dared not look up, so I just rested my forehead in the crook of his neck. Silence fell between us, and I was afraid to move or speak, but the solid statue that he had turned into strangely offered comfort and strength I could depend on. My muscles relaxed and I let out out a small sigh of relief before I could consciously stop it.
 We remained like this for good two minutes and then he just stepped away to put on his tunic.
 âYou may bring in my breakfast.â
 I blinked a few times and left for the kitchen, on wobbly legs.
 We went on like this for the next three days, Thorin making me hold him, but never advancing, and I felt like a frightened animal being tamed, slowly and skilfully, like a mare being hushed and soothed into sweet oblivion until she was eventually saddled and made into a possession with the air of finality. I had to admit that it did feel good, in a sick way, and I started to enjoy the fake intimacy the process offered. I did not flinch nor fight, and Thorin kept his word of not touching me improperly. I realized that I trusted him and willingly came to his arms once he gestured for me to do so, with a knowing and satisfied smile gracing his lips. âGood girl,â he used to say, and my heart trembled with joy of being praised and my body hungrily devoured the touch of his warm skin. Oh, how screwed I was with all my loneliness that these simple gestures and expressions helped to keep at bay!
 The days flowed slowly and placidly and I calmed down. It did not last long though, as the still surface of our ordinary days was stirred by a foreign delegation.
 They came from Rohan one early morning, as I was told, to negotiate possible alliance against the common enemy. After the last battle, the orcs have moved south and were much scarcer in numbers in the lands surrounding Erebor. But that posed possible threat to Rohan.
 I saw them briefly, men on tall horses and in shiny helmets, riding proudly and erect through the main gate, and my heart started to pound violently at the sight of my own race. They dismounted, the horses were led into the stables to be taken care of, and Thorin and his high-ranking generals came out to meet them and exchange greetings. For the first time I saw Thorin wear his crown and was surprised by how regal and official he looked, exact opposite of his normal attire. This must be something big.
 They were staying for several days already, Thorin being out whole day during the negotiations.
 On that particular day, I was performing my duties as normal. I tidied up the king's chambers diligently, and was now sweeping the floor in the corridor where the red carpet did not reach. I heard silent footsteps, and when I turned around, I saw a tall blond-haired man walk by. He glanced at me briefly, and having caught my stare, he stopped and returned in his tracks. He studied me for a few moments suspiciously before speaking:
 âI am afraid I do not know you, my lady.â He bowed his head ever so slightly.
 âOh, I'm not a lady, as you can see,â I pointed at the broom with a smile. âMy lord,â I added quickly and lowered my gaze. My heart was beating wildly with joy that I was speaking to a human, and was flattered at the same time by his display of respect.
 âI see. May I know your name? What are you doing in these dwarven lands? I have not seen here any kin of ours but you.â
 I hesitated for a moment. âI`m Kate Evans,â I explained briefly and suppressed the urge to shake his hand. Instead, I bowed slightly, at which he gave an acknowledging nod. âAnd⊠I do the cleaning here⊠basically.â I bit my lip, which did not escape his attention, for he lifted his chin stubbornly and frowned.
 âIs something wrong with that, Kate Evans?â
 âN-no. I did not catch    your   name...â I tried to change the subject as I felt this was not the proper topic to talk about.
 âI am Ăomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark,â he saluted, for a moment turning into the shiny soldier that he was. âWhere are    you   from and was has led your steps to Erebor? It is most uncommon for humans to serve under dwarf masters in such deep places. And why is your hair shaved off?â
 Those were too many hard questions. I inhaled deeply before trying to explain in the most neutral tone. âFrom far away, my lord. My fate has led me here. And no, I am not a servant, I am a slave, if that is what you wanted to know. And I disobeyed my master once, so...â I rubbed my hands uncomfortably and looked down to check on my nails. I needed to do that right now.
 âThat is most unfortunate,â genuine compassion softened his features. He locked his dark eyes with mine before asking in a husky voice: âWho is your master?â
 âThe King himself?â
 âYes,â I confirmed.
 Surprised silence fell in the dimly lit corridor and then he nodded. âIt was not my knowledge that the dwarves indulged in slavery. But I am sure Thorin would be the most righteous master, by his ways during our negotiations.â
 At those words something inside me broke. I did not know what I had been expecting from this stranger, after all. Stupid me.
 His scrutinising eyes lingered on me a little longer than necessary but then he just turned and briskly walked away.
I fully realise that Ăomer was not yet born when this was happening, there are still a few more decades left, but well... He is just too gorgeous to be omitted!
 I did not see Ăomer after that for a few days, until the last evening before the delegation`s actual departure. As far as I overheard, the talks had been a success, and both realms agreed on mutual help and intelligence sharing against the remainder of the orc hordes pillaging the vast plains on the southern borders.
 On that day, Dis stormed in as always to inform me that my presence was needed at the feast to be held tonight. To my question why she explained that a gossip about a human slave in Erebor had spread and the Rohirrim expressed interest in me serving for them tonight.
 âThorin had agreed to that as a token of goodwill,â she said with an eyebrow lifted high. I swallowed my pride at that and tried to get out of my head the image of me being paraded in front of the foreign soldiers as a caged animal. Nevertheless, Dis sent me to the kitchen where I was instructed how to serve the meals and fill the wine goblets properly. It was not difficult at all, yet I felt nervous for no obvious reason.
 The feasting hall spread long and vast with its high ceiling and marbled pillars and walls. They shone with hues of the darkest green and grey with golden veins, invoking uttermost beauty and splendour worth the majestic dwarven kingdom, for all foreign eyes to see. The hall breathed with cold, and I shivered involuntarily. At the long table were seated the horse riders, along with dwarven officials and Thorin at the head of it. Ăomer to his right at the beginning of the long line, leaning closer to Thorin in silent chatter as they waited for the dinner to be served. He raised his brown eyes when I and the army of servants marched in, and nodded towards me ever so slightly in a silent greeting. I gave a small curtsy in return and then noticed Thorin watching me with a frown. The evening was starting in a strange manner. I swallowed hard and proceeded to serve the meal to Thorin, and then to Ăomer and all the others in the line. Soon after that, the general mood had risen, lifted by the delicious food and wine, and the guests hailed and cheered to Thorin with their chalices held high. I smiled at that and finally started to relax. The evening got on the right track. Although, I did my best to be as quick and invisible as possible when refilling their chalices.
 Later in the evening, after countless litres of spirits had been drunk, Ăomer beckoned to me to bring him wine. I obeyed quickly and when I leaned in to pour it in his goblet, I felt a daring hand rub my buttocks. Shocked, I silently cried out and spilled the remainder of the wine in the jar. I glared at him angrily but what I saw in his glistening eyes made me swallow whatever words came to my mind. There was lust, pure lust and dark hunger but they vanished in a split second once he regained his reason and former elegant behaviour.
 âLook what you have done,â he uttered with a smile, and I managed nothing but saying my âI`m so sorryâ while sweeping the table with my snow-white apron. One quick glance at Thorin, who was watching us intently but did not make an effort to step in. I was wondering if he had noticed.
 âThis slave of yours is very⊠unusual,â he said to Thorin lazily, with a half-drunken smile. âHow come she has found her place here in the depths of Erebor?â
 âI have found her in the wilderness, she owes me,â Thorin replied, composed, not giving in any more details.
 âOh, I see,â Ăomer murmured. âWould she be available for selling? I know of a suitable place for her tiny hands.â He chuckled at his own joke. âBack in Rohan. I feel she should return among her own. The sunlight would do her good.â I inhaled sharply and looked at Thorin with pleading eyes.    Please don't do it. I will die if this monster gets me. Â
 âShe is not for sale,â Thorin answered matter-of-factly, in a neutral tone, but I could sense icy coldness between the lines. The threatening coldness which meant a storm approaching. I exhaled.
 âI quite like her,â Ăomer did not give up, circling the top of his goblet with his finger casually. He was thinking of something, as if trying to mouth the correct words. A silent battle in his drunken mind. âWould you consider lending her to me for the night?â I gasped at that, terrified, and my hands started to shake. This is the moral man who rode with his back so straight up on his horse? The paragon of noble ways?
 Thorin leant in and frowned even more. More than I even thought possible.
 âMarshal, this slave is not available for sale nor any other business. She is    mine,â he emphasized gravely and beckoned to me, his glare locked with Ăomer`s. I hurried to his side, abandoning the wine stain on the table as it was.
 âKneel,â he ordered sternly, and I dared not defy him here and now, in front of the staring audience, which already noticed something was happening and their joyful chatter died down. I knelt down on the floor with my hands folded in my lap and eyes downcast, thanking all the gods for the remainder of my hair which fell into my face and hid the stinging red blush which had spread on my cheeks. Thorin patted me on my head and then reached for a plate. He took a honey cookie and held it in front of my lips. I hesitated for a brief startled moment before I opened my mouth for him, and he fed me like a pet, shoving his thumb in my mouth gently so that I could lick it clean. I did as he wished, playing along in his little game of authority above me, imagining I was not there and this was not happening at all. I didn't know who of the two humiliated me more. But at the same time I was thankful for the known evil which Thorin represented. Better him than the blond pretentious jerk.
 âObedient she is,â Ăomer praised and the tip of Thorinâs mouth curved in satisfaction. The chatter rose again as the atmosphere in the hall loosened. No one seemed to be listening any more.
 âNot always, but we have sorted that out already. Have we not?â he leaned in to my ear, as if speaking of a nice little secret.
 âYes, Your Majesty,â  I whispered, digging my fingernails deep into my palms.
 âGood girl,â he patted me again and then rested his heavy hand at the back of my neck. It felt strangely reassuring. By now I was sitting on my soles between the males, but so close to Thorin that Ăomer could not reach me. I think that was Thorin's intention, an elegant solution to a diplomatic disaster. He fed me a few more cookies.
 Ăomer was watching us from under his heavy lids. âWhen you get tired of her, think of me.â He reached for his goblet and grinned. âShe would still be a good fuck.â
 Thorin laughed out but his grip on my bare neck tightened. âYou have drunk too much tonight, Marshal. Our wine is strong, you do not know what you are saying.â
 Then he turned to me. âYou may go and wait in my chambers,â beckoning to a guard who stood nearby to accompany me.
 I stood up abruptly, and throwing a small curtsy towards Thorin and then Ăomer, I hurried out of the hall, followed by the guard.
 I was so freaked out that when I entered the chamber, I pressed my back to the door and had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. I did not hear the guardâs heavy footsteps though, and when I opened the door slightly, he peeked at me from the outside questioningly. I closed it again and decided to light the fire in the large fireplace to keep the darkness of the lonely chamber at bay. Then I lay down on the bed, planning to make it up before I left. For the moment, I was more than happy to be guarded and the king's quiet private chamber offered sweet solace to my nerves which I so desperately needed.
I will have you on your knees
 And the beast I hold within
 Shall be fed with your hungering screams
I awoke in the middle of the night still in Thorin's bed. The peaceful full moon was shining brightly at me from the large window, its silver light spreading quietly across the normally dark chamber. The fire had already died out. I yawned, and still sleepy, realized where I was lying. I stood up abruptly and walked towards the cushioned armchair by the window. I leaned my head comfortably against its back and watched the magnificent windless night in its silence, the shadows of the landscape frozen and not moving. I cuddled further in the armchair, lifting my knees up to my chin, and was thus lulled to sweet sleep.
A soft click of the door made me open my eyes, and then the sound of a key in the keyhole. The door was being locked. Thorin's tall figure stepped into the moonlight, but did not appear less dark. He looked around the room as if searching for something, until his eyes adjusted to the blackness, and I saw his expression change when he spotted me. I realized the moon was shining from behind me so my face must have remained hidden, probably still looking asleep. I quite liked the opportunity it gave me to watch him move unguarded when he thought nobody was watching. He walked towards the bed and took off his upper tunic and boots, leaving all of that casually spread on the ground, then sat on the bed, resting his head in his hands for a good while. He looked tired, his shoulders tense, but there was something strange about him, certain determination, anticipation. He stood up and walked towards my armchair slowly, questioningly. He reached out to touch my hair and cheek, and I realized this was the time I was supposed to wake up.
âYour Majesty,â I jumped, feigning surprise. I stood up quickly and made a small curtsy in a silent greeting. I wanted to thank him for what he did during the evening, but he did not seem to want to start a conversation. Instead, he just nodded, and rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. I could smell sweet wine and scent of leather from him, and it was not an unpleasant sensation. He massaged my shoulder slightly, then moving his attention to the back of my neck, until he finally pulled me towards him as I was already used to. But this time his hand continued to journey across my back until it reached my hip, and I shuddered.
âYour Majesty, I would like to thank you for what you did during...â I said shakily, which earned me his approving grunt while his other hand continued to wander around my behind. âWould you like me to fetch something for youâŠ?â
âIt is nothing you can fetch that I want, Kate,â he breathed into my hair, and I shook involuntarily, despite doing my best to fight my rising uneasiness.
All of a sudden, he released me and took a step back. âNow undress,â he said quietly, matter-of-factly. As if it was the most natural thing for me to do in front of him.
I could not believe my ears. âW-what?â
âUn-dress!â came the command in a deep-set growl, and my heart sank at that word. Oh no, please don't do this. I stood there shaking, uncertain what to do, terrified not to disobey and get punished once again, and my brain was working feverishly, trying to find a way out of this, find some excuse, anything.
âYour Majesty⊠I⊠I'm sorry to ask, but⊠what is wrong? You said you would give me time...â I blabbered desperately, squeezing my fingers in front of me in a pleading, uncertain gesture.
âWhich I gave you. You have run out of it tonight.â
âBut⊠why? What is different? You said- â
âDo not make me repeat myself for the second time, Kate!â
âBut you said you would wait! And I'm honestly doing my best to obey you, Your Majesty⊠to serve you as I was taught, I'm not even flinching anymore when you are close, is that not- â
âYou are making a good slave, indeed. But you do not  look  owned!â he growled, and the dark devouring fire which I had once seen sprang in his eyes.
I stared at him in disbelief.
âThe foreigner wanted you because you simply look like you do not belong to anybody. I am not contained  in you. I cannot let that happen again. You are mine, and everybody needs to know.â He was becoming more and more passionate as he spoke, and when a soft sob escaped my lips at his words, he asked gravely: âAm I really that hideous that you react in such a manner?â
âNo, not at all,â I hurried with my assurance before I could think of any consequences. The tip of his mouth rose in a self-satisfied half-smile, and I mentally cursed.
âI'm sorry, Your Majesty⊠but⊠but I just can't...â My voice came in a whisper so silent that I nearly could not hear my own words. By now I was shaking all over my body and a huge lump formed in my throat.
He frowned. His large hand grabbed my throat in the violent promise of strangling, his whole body rising as if he grew twice that tall. The transformation was so menacing that my knees went limp under me and I remained standing just because he was holding my neck in his tight grip. That was too much. I clenched my teeth, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, I rolled the sleeves of my dress down my shoulders. He let go off my throat at that and watched me intently, still on guard. After a few other agonizing seconds I pulled the whole dress down to the ground. I held my hands in front of my private parts though, as futile as it may have looked, to cover whatever dignity I was left, and thankful for the darkness which was partially hiding me. My mouth went dry, and I kept my gaze locked on the floor as if it could help me break any contact with him.
He slid his gaze across my body and then stepping closer, he turned me around so that the moonlight shone directly into my face. He cupped my breast and touched the ugly scars on my belly and thigh. And then on my back, those which he had inflicted himself. âWhat a shame,â he uttered under his breath, his voice deep velvet, and I gulped when he suddenly grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. His gaze lingered on the place where the soft hair grew between my thighs, and lay his palm flat against my lower belly. I shivered and felt warmth spread somewhere deep inside. His middle finger traced an imaginary circle on my sensitive skin. I was panting heavily now, and if it was from terror or pleasure I really did not know.
âAre you a virgin, Kate?â
The terror struck me with full force now. I cried out and fought with all my strength to shake his hands off and get away from him, desperately, as if fighting for dear life. But I could not stand his strong arms which pacified me immediately with their iron grip, forcing my hands once again behind my back in an uncomfortable position, just much more painfully now. I could not move unless I hurt myself.
âAnswer me!â he stormed, and I started to sob. He gave me a few more seconds, and when I did not speak, he tightened the grip even more. I cried out in pain, then shook my head in defeat. He snarled at that.
âWere you a virgin  before  the orc?â
I shook my head once again, hot tears rolling down my cheeks in streams.
âAt least I do not need to be gentle with you. I wanted to fuck you the very same moment I saw you out in the wilderness. Naked, all covered in blood, completely helpless and at my mercy. You were exquisite then, my dear. But I do not want to hold back anymore. I have waited for this for too long.â he finished bitterly.
My eyes widened at those cruel words, and I sobbed out my horror-striken âOh no, please don't do this! Please, I beg you!â.
But he had gone too far to stop now. He loosened the grip just a little and spoke nearly tenderly now. âDo not fight, little one, it will only make things worse for you. And these tears,â he paused for a moment to trace their trails with his thumb, âYou look even more beautiful with them. More like yourself, stripped to the bone.â
He leaned in and kissed me deep, pressing his whole body against mine tightly, the thin cloth of his tunic rubbing against my naked skin. And under it, the chiselled muscles of his chest and arms, iron-like, and he felt as solid as a mountain peak. At the edge of my horror-striken mind I realized that I would have appreciated this intense magnetism had this been under different circumstances. He pressed his lips on my neck and traced it with his tongue all the way down to my collar bone, then returned eagerly back to my ear to suckle at my earlobe. Â He bit me hungrily, and when I cried out, he moaned, utterly enjoying my torment. Then he forced his knee between my thighs, grabbing me by hips and pressing me hard against the dark leather of his thigh. I started my furious struggle with the impossible. He interlocked his fingers with the hair at the back of my head and pulled down, bending my neck low in such a strange angle that I gasped for breath for a few miserable moments. Watching me closely, his lip drawn up to bare his upper teeth, he loosened the grip for just one breath and then pulled back again. My fingers dug in the cloth of his arms in a desperate attempt to stabilize myself, but to no avail. When I ceased to move, he let me breathe freely. And then all over again. Exhausted, after a few tries I gave up and went limp.
âCalmer now?â he smirked. I didn't even try to answer. âGood.â
Having me where he wanted to have me now, he once again grabbed my hips and positioned me so that I had to either stand on my tiptoes or press my clit against his leg. I did my best to maintain the position to avoid him, and while he was distracting me with hot kisses on my neck, I felt my feet inevitably get tired with every passing second.
âLet go,â he finally hummed, and just pressed me down. I let out a pained sob and he breathed in low whisper: âGood girl. Relax now.â
And he ran his fingers around my skin in light, feathery movements, stroking my hair, down my breasts and belly, and then up my back and neck. I was utterly confused, panting heavily, and when he slid his hot tongue in my mouth, I realized my own tongue was answering him, moving in his circles as if in a dance. He added a few slow movements of his pelvis and I shuddered at the hot wave it sent through my body. I started to sob anew.
Taking no heed of that, he suddenly lifted me up in the air and headed for the bed. I screamed out and kicked him, taking him by surprise. He swore and let me go, but only for a moment, before he yanked me violently and threw me over his shoulder. He strode to the bed and threw me onto the pillows mercilessly. He took a second to take off his tunic, revealing his wide shoulders and smooth upper body. I struggled on my elbows to back away from him, but he was there again to grab me by the ankle and yanked me back. Then he knelt on the bed and pinning my hands above my head, lay down on me full weight, pressing the huge bulge of erection against my thigh. I whimpered under him in distress, my breath once again taken away by his muscular weight. He rose to support himself on one elbow, and with one free hand unbuckled his pants swiftly, not even bothering to take them off. At this moment, his long hair fell on my face in a dark cascade, and it felt so soft against my skin that I stared up at him in surprise. Our eyes met and what I saw in his icy gaze made me shiver - it was the victory of a hunter.
It was this moment that I realized the inevitable. This time I will not escape, no matter how hard I try.
Grabbing my legs, he forced my knees up so that they were now nearly reaching my ears. He planted a few hot kisses on my inner thighs, then took out his huge member and positioned himself in between. He pressed the tip of his stone-hard cock against my entrance and I whimpered in the anticipation of pain.
He moaned. âYou`re all wet for me, little one.â
In one deliberate motion, he rammed his entire length into me, causing me to flinch and cry out at the searing pain. He waited for a few seconds to let me adjust to the impossible thickness, which was obviously not enough, and moved several times in a circular direction. Then he pulled his cock out of me and rammed it all the way in again, causing me to cry out even louder. I was sobbing openly now.
âYou are so deliciously tight,â he growled in between the thrusts, keeping a quicker but steady rhythm. âYou could convince me you are still a virgin.â Embarrassed, violated and in pain, I closed my eyes, turned away and tried to pretend I was not there and nothing of this was happening.
At that he stopped to move. âLook at me,â he commanded sternly.
When I refused to obey, he bit my neck so hard that I gasped, opening my eyes in shock.
Now he decided to lick and pinch both my nipples, and to my utter dismay, despite all the burning pain in my tunnel, I felt a hot ecstatic wave roll over my body, all the way down to my core. I bit my lip to suppress the sudden urge to moan. Â I cannot let him know. Â He resumed fucking me, only harder than before, sliding in and out of me with all the accompanying wet noises, and by his low grunts I could say he was close to his climax. A few more thrusts and he growled his release into my hair. I felt his cock move and twitch inside of me as he spasmed, riding out his orgasm.
Now he pulled his cock out, and I felt his warm seed spill between my thighs. And then on the clean blanket I had changed in the morning. I was all wet and slithery, and felt dirty in all the possible ways.
Thorin knelt on the bed, still panting, and tilted his head to a side, to look at his work. Teary, ravaged, shaking. Desperate.
âNow that looks better,â he said with a soft smile on his lips, as he gently traced my tear-stained cheek with his finger. âA well-behaving, obedient slave.â And he finally liberated himself from his pants, threw them on the ground, and lay down on his back next to me.
I shakily struggled to sit up. My womb, throat and wrists were all hurting and my head felt dizzy. I put my trembling feet on the floor. Â I need to get rid of your seed.
âWhere are you going?â Thorin asked leisurely.
I froze. âTo wash myself, Your Majesty.â
âYou should not roam around Erebor at night alone, not until the horse riders leave today morning. Stay here, Kate.â When I shrank, he added thoughtfully: âI will not touch you again tonight.â Â He seemed to actually mean it.
I did not answer. I pondered on his words for a while but was too exhausted to even maintain my sitting position, not to speak about walking or fighting him any longer, so I lay down again on the other end of the bed, as far from Thorin as possible. I covered myself with the blanket and turned my back to him.
After a while I heard his silent breath become steady as he fell asleep. That was when I curled up with my knees up to my chin and started to sob, silently and bitterly. Sharing the king's bed, but still all alone.
 The orc was approaching me with an ever increasing speed. I turned around to run, but my feet sank deep in the ground as it devoured me, bit by bit, having turned into a lake of stinking mud. I screamed for help as he neared me, unsheathing his rusty weapon, and as I struggled for dear life to get out of the mud, it only sucked me in more quickly. The orc stood by me now, grinning victoriously, and leaned in to take a closer look at me.
Darkness, absolute darkness in which also the full moon remained hidden behind the clouds.
I felt something near me stir and close in.
I screamed once again and shot out of whatever I was lying on but was immediately pulled back by an invisible hand.
âIt was just a dream, Kate! Bad dream. Wake up now!â I heard a familiar voice whisper and then felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing and rubbing me gently as he spoke. I burst into tears and threw myself in the arms of the figure next to me, crying hysterically, shaking violently between the sobs.
âIt's the orc again!â
âI know, you spoke from your sleep. Hush now, little one, it was just a dream. Just a bad dream,â he spoke as he closed his arms around me and planted soft kisses on my forehead and eyelids. âAll will be good in the morning.â
âBut what if he returns?â
âThen I will scare him away and hunt him down to all ends of Arda.â
âThank you, you are so kind.â
And he lay me down again, whoever he was, pulling me in his tight embrace as he spread on his back. I put my head on his chest, still sobbing, grabbing at his long locks as fits of crying shook me. I heard his steady heart beat powerfully, and was lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.
 I awoke lying on my side. My head was hurting from the crying, my eyelids swollen, and I felt all shattered and in pain. As my blurred mind began to remember what happened at night, I suddenly realised where I actually was, and when I tried to turn around to check if Thorin was still there, I noticed a muscular hand resting heavily around my waist. He was pressed against my body full length and felt very warm in the chilly morning air. I needed to pee. And I needed to wash his juices off me, above all.
 Now, wide awake, I wondered how to stand up and not wake him up at the same time. I slightly wriggled but then froze as I felt him breathe out more loudly and his hand stir on my waist. A few more seconds, and to my utmost horror, it silently moved to my hip and traced my thigh. I felt something hard press against my buttocks and I whimpered.
 âLie still,â Thorin whispered in my ear, his voice still hoarse from the sleep.
 His large hand cupped my breast and lazily continued all the way down to my stomach.
 âNei, vaer sĂ„ snill*... I'm sore from yesterday, Your Majesty⊠â I tried my luck, and already felt a lump forming in my throat.    Not again, please. Â
 âIt will pass,â he hummed, and took my hair out of the way to bare the back of my neck. He pressed his lips to the soft skin and planted on it a few slow kisses, taking his time with me.
 At my second unsure âPlease don'tâ, he laughed out, and to show me how irrelevant my pleas were, just flipped me over to my back and supporting himself on one arm, continued to explore my body. He laid his palm flat against my intimate parts and leaned in to kiss me.
 Just then, there was a knock on the door.
 Thorin swore and never letting go off me, shouted: âWhat?!â
 From behind the door came a hushed guard`s voice: âMarshal of the Riddermark wishes to speak to you before they depart, Your Majesty.â
 There was a dark sparkle in Thorin's eye as he looked down at me. He ran his finger through my hair absent-mindedly, pondering on the possibilities of the encounter. Then he smirked and whispered his âStay here,â as he pulled the blanket up to my neck. He stood up abruptly, grabbing his leather pants from the floor where he had left them yesterday, and put them on. I watched his naked torso move in the dim morning light, the chiseled muscles of his upper arms working, but then averted my gaze bitterly.
 The guard`s footsteps echoed in the hall as he walked away. And then once again, the sound doubled, stopping in front of the door. Thorin unlocked and opened it wide, standing in the gape as a tower with his chin proudly outstretched.
 Ăomer, clad in full armour, stared at Thorin from under his high silver helmet. He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes but struggled it with a certain dignity, now that he regained his former regal countenance. His gaze slid from half-naked Thorin towards me lying on the bed. He swallowed hard.
 âThorin. You did not come down to see us off. I wonder if it was because of the last night or because we are leaving this early,â he paused for a second, and when Thorin did not reply, he continued his speech. âI wish to part with you in friendship, for the sake of both our realms. Let me assure you I remain Lady Dis` humble servant.â
 âThe friendship stays as it was, Ăomer. No disruptions.â Thorin smirked, glancing towards me over his shoulder.
 âI am glad to hear that. May I apologise to your slave as well?â
 Thorin nodded briefly and stepped away to unblock the entrance. Ăomer walked in the chamber and strode towards the bed, his footsteps heavy, his armour clinking as he walked. I shrank under the blanket, feeling my cheeks turning deep red. To my utter astonishment, he knelt on one knee and bowing his head, spoke to me.
 âI am sorry for my behaviour last night. I did not mean to insult you, nor do any harm to you. I deeply regret that, my lady.â And before I could open my mouth to speak, he took my hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle manner. âI shall be forever grateful if you forgive me.â He let my hand go and waited with his head bowed.    Oh fuck, just like some Lancelot. Â
 âYes⊠umm, I mean⊠I accept your apology.â What a diplomatic answer.
 He immediately stood up, bowed his head slightly, and walked out of the chamber. He turned around at the door and glanced back at me and then at Thorin.
âI wish you well. May both Mahal and BĂ©ma* protect you.â
 âFare well, Ăomer. We shall meet again soon under merrier circumstances.â
 âAye.â Ăomer nodded and strode away. I could hear the echo of his heavy footsteps as Thorin closed the door again, smirking.
 âI would not wish to be in his shoes now, with such a hangover. What a pleasant journey he will have,â he said nonchalantly while grabbing his boots from the floor where he had left them the night before. He entered his closet and after a while walked out dressed in a fresh dark blue tunic over linen pants.
 âYou may dress now.â
 As I stood up tiredly to do as he had said, he strolled to the table and reached for a carafe. He poured some wine mixed with water into a tall chalice and drank eagerly. Then he refilled it and turned towards me.
 I dressed in my rumpled dress as quickly as I possibly could, happy to finally have some clothes to cover myself with. Then I took the offered chalice from his hand. I hesitated briefly before bringing it to my cracked lips. Wine on an empty stomach, never a good choice. But then again, why not.    Screw it. I need it anyway. Â
 Thorin was watching me intently from under his lashes as I drank. When I emptied the glass, he took it from me and lay it on the table. I looked at him questioningly.
 âYou can take the bath you asked for last night. Come,â he said placidly as he opened the door and motioned for me to join him.
Nei, vaer sÄ snill. - Please don`t. (Norwegian)
Béma - the Rohirrim venerated the Vala Oromë the Hunter, whom they called Béma
 Not knowing what to expect, I followed him hesitantly through the corridor. At the end, he turned to the left and then several more times until we reached a distant passage I had not visited before. It was all dark stone with silvery veins but the walls were rough and any carpet was missing. I was wondering what he meant by a bath, so far I had seen no bathtubs in whole Erebor as far as I could go. I only washed myself in a wash basin during my stay.
 Finally, Thorin stood in front of large, ordinary-looking door. He opened it with a creak and a wave of hot humid air steamed out from the inside. He stepped in and turned back to me with his hand outstretched:
 âCome in, Kate, you will like it.â
 What I saw first in the room were three large pools sunken in the ground in what reminded me of the ancient Greco-Roman style, with stone stairs leading down inside. The floor was of polished stone tiles of sandy shades such as the walls, and as I stepped in barefoot, I realised in astonishment it was all warm as if underlain with underfloor heating. There were a few shelves with bath necessities scattered around the room. The air was filled with warm, intoxicating incense, and natural light was coming in from some hidden source.
 I exhaled. Such pampering beauty in such a harsh place! For a moment I forgot my troubles and drank in the soothing atmosphere.
 âI didn't know something like this existed in Erebor,â I uttered under my breath, my eyes fixed on the nearest pool on which rim lay a few filigran bottles of what looked like precious oils and bars of soap. I could swear I smelled subtle scent of roses even here.
 âThe pools are filled with thermal water, we have a few springs originating here under the mountain. And, of course, the River Running,â he paused as he grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf. âThey are of real value especially in winters such as this. The waters are then used for heating in the lower chambers. They are allowed to circulate until they thoroughly cool. A true masterwork of our builders,â Thorin explained proudly.
 I knelt next to the closest pool impatiently and sank my hand in it. It was very hot and I immediately withdrew it with a grin.
 Thorin smiled. âTry the one in the middle. They are of different temperatures.â
 I took a few steps to the right and sank my foot in the water. It felt pleasantly warm, and I suddenly no longer cared who was present at that moment. I took off my dress in a second, threw it on the ground and walked down a flight of steps into the pool. I waited a few more seconds to adjust to the temperature and then fully submerged into the water, withholding my breath. Dull, echoing silence embraced me, and I enjoyed it to the fullest.
 When I reluctantly resurfaced and wiped the water from my eyes, I saw Thorin had already entered the same pool. He was leaning against the pool wall with his eyelids half-closed, his hair and skin all wet, resting, not seeming to care about me. I decided to ignore him and enjoy this treatment as much as I possibly could. I walked towards the far end rim and took a soap which lay there prepared along with neatly piled towels and sheets of various sizes. I turned my back to Thorin and indulged in carefully washing my skin, my hair, my womb. I took particular care in cleansing the latter. I submerged once again in the water and took my place opposite the stairs into the pool, as far from Thorin as possible. Then I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of total void in my head. I felt the wine I had drunk a few moments ago hitting my head, the effect boosted by the heat of the bath. I hummed to myself in silent approval.
 I heard the water splash, and when I opened my eyes again, Thorin was standing in front of me with wide grin on his face. Slowly, he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, ever-so-gently. I shuddered, and he tucked a strand thread of my hair behind my ear. The little gesture was so intimate and caring that I wondered if this was the same man as last night.
 âWhat do you want from me? What do you    really   want?â I shot honestly without thinking.
 He withdrew immediately and our gaze locked for a few long seconds. He blinked a few times, then leaned in again so close I could feel his breath on my skin, and said, his eyes deeply penetrating me.
 âI want you to spread your legs for me willingly, freely, and enjoy it as much as I do.â
 My breath hitched in my throat and it took a lot of effort for me to remain calm. âYou know I can't do it.â
 âYes you can. And you will.â He played with my wet hair as he spoke, so close now he literally pinned me to the pool wall. His powerful body pressed against mine in the hot water.
 âHow do you want it this time, Kate?â
 âI don't want it at all,â I whispered.
 âDo not lie to me. How do you want it this time, I asked.â
 He pressed against me even harder, placing both of his hands on the pool rim, having me trapped in between. Alright then, I thought desperately. So be it. Maybe I will be lucky to finish it before it even starts. And without a warning, I grabbed his mighty erection and started to stroke it fervently, up and down, mechanically, shamelessly and efficiently. He moaned in surprise and stopped whatever he was planning to do, enjoying my attention with his eyes closed and lips parted. More sure now, I started to stroke him faster, and that was when he opened his eyes and tilted his head in a sudden realisation.
 âOh no, not this way, sweet one.â He groaned, liberating his member from my grip and placing my hand around his waist. âLet me rephrase my question. What do you want me to do to you?â
 I shuddered once again. I looked up at him, in his sky-blue eyes now darkened with determination and the air of finality of his decision, and knew nothing more could be done, not even this time. I felt the intoxicating effect of the wine combined with sleep deprivation, the warmth of both Thorin towering above me, radiating strength and health, and the water infused with precious oils, and I was so exhausted that suddenly my head felt dizzy and I no longer cared. I swallowed hard.
 âBe gentle. Be as gentle as you can, please.â I heard myself say against all reason, as if from a distance, and could not believe the pleading, unsure voice which had spoken the invitation belonged to me.
 âNo more fighting?â
 I just shook my head tiredly. At that, he leaned in and claimed my mouth, slowly, deeply, passionately, taking his time with me. His hands wandered around my body in large circles and I felt myself melting as an ice cube thrown into fire. A soft moan escaped my lips and he groaned into my mouth at that. He withdrew and placed butterfly kisses on my neck and ears, and it was so hard to resist the sensations it sent through my core that I shivered and dug my nails deep into his skin. He looked deep into my eyes and without a warning lifted me in the water so that it came splashing out of the pool, pressing me against the wall with a low gurgling grunt. I whimpered in distress, but he kissed my lips gently.
 âI will not enter you now, trust me.â He waited for a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then added. âJust wrap your legs around me.â
 Hesitantly, I did as he said, and he rubbed against my intimate parts, slowly and self-cautiously. His wet hair got in between our lips as he pressed them again against mine and I brushed it away with my free hand, feeling my last conscious blocks dissolving in the thick humid air.
Screw it, screw it all. I don't care, just for now. Â
He continued to caress me, here and there planting soft kisses on my shoulder and along the collarbone, his narrow hips rested against mine, foreshadowing what might be coming later, still and unmoving, only occasionally suggesting a slight thrust forward. I realised my breath quickened and was coming in shallow gasps now, and I wondered how long he will be able to withhold his suppressed desire. He was squeezing me with more force now and his face turned to the mask of terrible, all-devouring hunger. His teeth were bruising my lips as he kissed me, and at one moment I whimpered in pain. At that, he withdrew from me, panting heavily, scrutinising me for a brief moment, and I thought that was the moment he would take me with full force. Instead, to my utter astonishment, he let go off me, putting my legs carefully back on the tiled pool floor, and lifted himself out of the pool, supported only by his arms. He rested for a few moments with his head slightly bowed as if to compose himself, then he stood up and walked to a shelf from which he grabbed a large towel. He carelessly rubbed himself dry, then took another one along with a bottle of what looked like some oil and walked back towards me. I noticed his massive erection even from here as he strode, his wet hair flowing down his muscled wide arms and chest. There were also a few scars and the latest, already healed nasty wound, which reached from under his armpit straight down to the ribs. The memory of the last battle. I had actually never seen him all naked in full light, and my breath hitched at the embodiment of the manly beauty.
 Aware of my wide stare, he squatted by the pool with a self-conscious smirk. He took me by hips and arms and in one powerful movement pulled me out of the pool, backwards, so that I lay on my back on the tiled floor. It was surprisingly warm and reminded me of a tepidarium used in modern sauna worlds. I let my body absorb the dry warmth as my tense muscles started to relax, along with a few strokes of Thorin's hand around my face, breasts and belly. Then he pulled me to a sitting position, and to my surprise, reached out for the second towel to rub me dry. Gently, soothingly he brought it to my face, hair and body, and did not stop until my legs and feet were dry too. He gestured for me to make room between my thighs, and I obeyed. Without even looking, he pressed the towel gently at my womanhood, never breaking the eye contact with me. The softest moan escaped my lips and he smiled with satisfaction. I felt blood rise into my cheeks.
 âHave no shame, my sweet one,â he whispered under his breath before licking at my neck. Then he gently pushed his hot tongue inside my ear, playfully, and this time I moaned loudly at the sensation and to my utter dismay, realised my thighs were shaking violently from the desire. I could not hold it away from him anymore, and he knew it full well.
 He reached out for the bottle, poured a few drops of its contents into his palms and rubbed them together. He then brought them to my shoulders and ran his fingers across my muscles, here and there giving a few light squeezes. The moisture was indeed scented oil, relaxing and intoxicating at the same time, and I could swear I felt in it subtle tones of a rose, lavender and some exotic flowers I did not recognize. He slowly pushed me back to lie on the floor. His hands continued their journey along my breasts, belly and down to my legs, and I shivered as he traced my feet and soles and massaged them softly, applying extra oil.
 The king tending to his slave`s feet, how absurd.
 Then he returned upwards, and spreading my legs gently, let the oil drop on my clit and flow further down to the floor. He brought his index finger down and traced my core with one feathery movement. At that, my back arched high and I moaned loudly, digging my fingernails in my palms. This earned me his deep-set growl, as he pushed the bottle aside, and mounted me quickly, settling himself between my wide-spread thighs.
 I no longer cared. I no longer thought. All I knew was I wanted my release, the little joy I believed I had earned after the long months of fear and inner pain, and if this joy was to come from Thorin, my goddamn captor, then so be it.
 He leaned in to ravish my mouth hungrily, then withdrew to take a good look at me, spread under him, a willing, waiting woman with passion in her eyes, and his features softened for a brief moment, before turning fiercer again. Holding my hips in place with one hand, with the other supporting himself, he placed the tip of his erection against my core and entered me in one strong, resolute movement. I gasped at the sudden intrusion, but he stopped briefly to wait for my walls to adjust to his enormous size. Then he resumed his movements and claimed me in long, deep and slow thrusts, his features all lust and passion finally unleashed. I was still sore from the last night, and the subtle burning pain reminded me very well of how very different the act felt this time, for as he continued to move inside of me, the pain subsided and turned into a brand new feeling - ecstasy in wild abandon. I writhed and moaned under him, as his thrusts became deeper and faster, his own breath coming along with growls as he rode me, the beast in him never taking over the control, as was seen in his determined features. At one moment he looked down at me and grunted:
 âCome for me, my sweet one.â
 And he bit me in the neck, more teasingly than fiercely, as he continued to ride me, and I felt my climax approaching rapidly. A few more powerful thrusts, and a hot wave of sweet pleasure rolled over me as I came wildly, washing away all my distress, fear and anger which had built in me over the months, and I released a loud tortured cry. Never giving me time to recover, he lifted my legs high above my hips to support them on his shoulders and rammed his cock inside me once again, thrusting in and out wildly, claiming his ownership of me. Finally, he growled deeply and came hard into me, and I felt his cock throb and twitch in my tight tunnel. Then he stilled and remained nestled between my legs for a few moments, resting on me, panting.
 Finally, he stroked my cheek with his thumb and pulled out, seating himself next to me. I rolled over to one side with my back to him, still panting, powerless, exhausted, pleased and utterly lost in a thousand contradictory emotions. Tears stung in my eyes, and I did not know why exactly I was crying this time.
 This man. I loathed him and at the same time was thankful for the joy he had just brought to me, however insane it sounded.
 He interrupted my train of thought by whispering from behind my back: âYou will have to take another bath, it seems.â
 âYou too!â forgetting I was actually being rude to the king, but did not care.
 He did not seem to be bothered by that as he stood up and strode towards the pool. I struggled to a sitting position, my head even more dizzy than before, then stood up clumsily, realising my legs were shaking.
 Seeing that, without a single word, Thorin returned to me, lifted me in his arms and carried me into the pool, watching his steps carefully not to slip. There, to my utter shock, he washed me himself, bringing the cloth gently between my thighs, cleaning thoroughly the remains of our encounter, and I could not help the feeling he was thus making up for the horrors of the last night.
 Did he feel guilty though? I could not tell.
Right thereafter, Thorin led me to the dining room. I asked him if I could instead go to my chamber and get some sleep but he insisted that I eat first. I followed him to the room on the highest floor from where I used to take the breakfast for him. It used to be empty at early dawn, but this time I was taken aback to meet Dis who had been seated at the far end of the table. Her eyebrow rose as she saw us enter the room side by side, our hair all wet, and the expression made her resemble Thorin so much that I stopped dead in my tracks.
 âSister! Good morning,â said Thorin, smiling. He walked towards her and bent down to kiss her cheek.
 âThorin, good to see you! Join me and make up for your neglecting me all those mornings past,â she smiled back at him, pointing to a few empty chairs. Thorin chose the one opposite her and sat down heavily.
 âWould you mind a little company? My little slave would like to join us for breakfast,â he said playfully and gestured for me to come closer. I slightly bowed towards Dis.
 âOf course, good morning, Kate. Come and sit down.â
 âGood morning, my lady.â
 There were three free chairs separating the siblings, and I chose to sit on the one in the middle, right in between them. I folded my hands in my lap and watched them in a silent, tired anticipation, hoping we would finish soon so that I could retire.
 Thorin reached for a richly decorated plate and as a darwish maid marched in balancing other plates full of delicacies in her arms, he ordered her to bring me strong coffee first. The maid bowed and disappeared immediately. She was back in a minute, placing in front of me a cup of freshly brewed coffee, and an empty plate so that I could choose whatever I wanted. I put two spoons of sugar in it and inhaled the aroma deeply. My first coffee after⊠how long was it, after all? I could not remember.
 The royal siblings continued in an agreeable chatter, but I did not listen to them. My stomach was all shrunken, so after a while I just tried a few sips of my coffee. It tasted most delicious, and an unwanted memory of me and my friends sitting in my favourite cafe back in Bergen flashed in front of my eyes. My past life. It was now that it was out of reach that I could finally appreciate it, the little unimportant choices I could enjoy freely, and my problems which at that time looked enormous, were but futile issues of a spoiled child.
 â - how pale she has turned. You should not be that demanding, Thorin. Have some mercy on her.â
 âYou do not need to worry, sister. It is nothing a few more hours of sleep would not make up for. Besides, she is learning quickly. I do not think any more harder handling will be needed.â
 I lifted my eyes from the steaming coffee. Are they really discussing me as if I was not there listening? Decency of the Durins was certainly not something I could count on. But right now, I did not really care. The sounds and images came to me as if through a thick haze, owing to the wine, my troubled and exhausted mind, and all I wanted was to just be released and shut myself out in my chamber and make the whole world disappear for at least a millennium. And, most importantly, come to terms with the recent events.
 âOh no, I know you too well, Thorin, you are enjoying this too much. Have her rest properly, have her eat properly, show her how kind you can be, how we all know you. Do not let her wither and or die trying to escape again, you do not want that, after all.â
 Thorin was listening to his sister with a slight frown, but he appeared not angered, but rather amused by her scolding.
 âYou speak as if you were older than me, Dis,â he smirked, reaching out for another piece of cheese. Then he waved her complaints away. âAs I said, she is making good progress and just needs time to process it all and adapt. Do not worry about that. What needs to be dealt with though are her nightmares. She is deeply troubled, even after all this time.â He glanced at me briefly before turning to his sister again.
 How the hell did he know?! I had not spoken of them to anyone, there was no way he could haveâŠ
 âOf the orcs attacking. I doubt she will ever sleep peacefully unless she gets over those. She woke up thrice last night screaming. It has been more than six months since I brought her here, sister, that is not a good sign at all.â
 âOh,â Dis threw a sympathetic glance at me. âThere should still be a way to help her cope with her past.â
 âTeach me how to fight.â My palm shot up to my mouth immediately to cover it. I had not realized what I was saying before I uttered the quick words.
 There were a few moments of awkward silence before Thorin spoke again, surprised.
 âThe art is not taught to everybody that simply, and especially not to the lower ranking subjects. What do you expect from it, Kate?â
 âTo be able to defend myself, under any circumstances, Your Majesty. If you grant me that wish, I would like to at least try.â
 âLet her try, Thorin, it will do her good,â Dis rushed in to help.
 Thorin took a deep breath and then, having come to a conclusion, said thoughtfully.
 âVery well, fight what you fear, Kate. Face the enemy within and turn your pain to hate, it will make you stronger. It might even help you regain your courage.â He paused for a long moment, his eyes turning to a distant point of his past which I could not reach nor comprehend. They flickered with a dark consuming fire before it died out again. âI will have somebody teach you how to fight. After all, you have earned it. With a sword, perhaps, or a sax, the axe would be too heavy for you. What do you say to that? A sword or a sax, which one do you prefer?â He leaned in as he shook off his memories, the tiny flame of amusement springing in his eyes now.
 My jaw dropped. The first actual thought was â    Whatever small to help me stab you in the heart at night   â but naturally, I had to swallow it. What came out of my mouth was what they had expected, I think.
 âI do not know what a sax is, Your Majesty.â
 âA broad-blade knife, or a short sword, depending on its length. It is a better choice for your tiny hands.â
 âThen let it be the sax, thank you,â I answered blankly, hunching over my cup once again. Whatever, really. But I already felt the boosting effect of coffee as the cloud over my mind started lifting.
 Dis laughed out amused, pushing a plate with a few pieces of cake in front of me as she spoke. âThis reminds me of    my   first lesson back when I was ten. I like the sax, it is a small weapon but deadly nonetheless. You will learn to fight like a dwarvish warrior, Kate, what an honour!â
 I managed a tired smile at her. âOh, is it?â
 âOf course! And have some cake, dear, you need to eat something,â she urged me, bringing her cup of tea to her lips.
 The conversation had turned again to some unimportant topics for which I was grateful. At least they did not pay any more attention to me and I could enjoy the meal. After I had eaten everything from the plate which Dis pushed in front of me, Thorin gracefully dismissed me.
 âGo and have some rest. I will not expect your service tomorrow morning, so you may sleep longer and recover your strength.â I thanked him and as I did my curtsy before leaving, he added: âFrom now on, you may use the baths freely and without any company.â
 At this, my heart jumped with joy, and I sent him a genuine smile, because it really made me happy. After how long, I could not remember. Perhaps I had become too numb to certain feelings, this is what Erebor made of me.
 âThank you so much!â I made another curtsy, not knowing how else to thank him. It is so strange that these little acts of kindness can make such a big difference, and now I was more than ready to welcome them, parched as I was for humanity.
 He smiled back at me, the carefree and enchanting young expression returning once again to his features, but then he waved me away impatiently, obviously having something else on his mind to be discussed with his sister.
 Just after I crossed the threshold, he returned to her, his voice was grave as he offered a strange solution:
 âYou have certainly heard of the events at the feast. We do not have to do this, Dis, there is still time to take back your word before the preparations begin. I will not have you unhappy for the rest of your life.â
 âBut what other choice do we have, Thorin?â
 âWe can still find some other ally, albeit from a longer distance,â he spoke softly.
 âYou know there are no other suitable options, unless you want me to marry an elf. Oh no, do not tempt me, not now that I have finally said yes. He might still be a barbarian who dares to bully slaves, but he will not dare to intimidate a lady. And if something goes wrong, I will return, he cannot hold me there by force. For the sake of Erebor. I might even have children once again...â she stopped as her voice broke.
I did not hear more as the rest of the strange conversation died out when I hurried away through the dimly lit corridor.
(to be continued here and in my AO3 account: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satiah81/works)
