Heart of Embers (Thorin Oakenshield Love Story)

Chapter 36

The loud thud of Arien's fist hitting the sandbag was the only sound, the only sound that echoed around the now empty training room. The other dwarves had left, leaving Arien to train alone. She had no idea why she didn't stop, but... maybe it was because no matter how hard she tried, no matter how tired she was, the endless exercise distracted her from the guilt that she had not chosen Rivendell and her friends. Had not chosen her people and her homeland. And yet somehow, they didn't feel like her people. It didn't feel like her home. Not anymore.

This mountain, this kingdom felt to her more than anything like home.

And there, the body attached to the familiar steps Arien only heard because he wanted her to was the reason she felt that way. Was what had drawn her here, to this place of vast halls and glittering gems and comforting, unchanging foundations. Strong arms wrapped around her waist as Thorin said into her ear

"It's late. You should rest."

"Like you're going to sleep tonight," she replied. "I know you'll be lying awake all through the hours of darkness, worrying about your grandfather."

He flinched at her words, and she immediately felt guilty for teasing him.

"What's wrong?" she murmured.

"That madness I told you about on our journey, like he is slipping away from us; it's worse. He won't eat, he doesn't sleep. He barely leaves the gold."

"Maybe it's just a phase. I'm sure he'll be fine given time."

It was a lie, but...

He turned her round to face him, looking deep into her eyes. "You don't believe that."

"No, I don't," she said, still unnerved by the intensity in his gaze.

"And the people in the Grey Mountains," he went on. "Incinerated by someone. Something."

"And?" she said. "What of it?"

"No one has claimed it as their own."

"That does not affect us."

"I don't trust it," he muttered.

"You trust nothing."

He met her eyes. "I trust you."

They hadn't broken each other's gazes once during their conversation, and now something changed in the atmosphere around them. It became taught, charged with tension. Thorin leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers.

"I trust you," he repeated. "And I will always trust you, no matter the armies, the mountains," another feather-light kiss "Or the forests that separate us."

"Where did you learn to make such pretty speeches?"

She felt his smile against her skin. "I've been having lessons with my father."

Arien chuckled, but her laughter was quickly shut off as Thorin kissed the corner of her mouth, then the other. As he nipped her lower lip. Arien gasped and pulled him closer, kissing him full on the mouth, shudders running up and down her body as his hands roamed everywhere, as if he couldn't touch enough of her, couldn't kiss her fast enough. His kiss was searing, plundering, so much so that she forgot words for a while. Forgot everything but his name.

"Thorin," she moaned.

He pulled back from her then, his breath coming in pants, and surveyed every inch of her with that warrior's assessment that missed nothing. When his gaze lingered on her breasts, hardly covered by the low cut see-through blue shirt she still wore, his expression turned ravenous. Then his gaze slid lower. Lower. And when it lingered on the apex of her thighs and his eyes glazed, Arien whispered