The Lost Prince

1. Home

Kaylea woke to the touch of Thorin's lips on her cheek, his beard brushing her skin. Then his lips on her neck, the soft touch of his tongue. Sleepily she turned and put a hand behind his head, guiding his mouth to hers. She savored his warm, earthy taste, felt the cold of snowflakes in his hair.

"When did you get back?"

"Just now," Thorin smiled at her, leaning over the back of the couch. "I cannot believe I actually found you asleep."

"Only you could sneak up on me like that," Kaylea pushed herself up, running her fingers through her hair. She felt foolish, she should have woken as soon as he turned the lock. But subconsciously I knew it was him, I knew I was safe.

Thorin took off his coat and hung it up, then added a couple logs to the fire. The coals in the hearth became a merry flame, popping and crackling. He took a seat on the couch, propping his boots on the table.

"Can I get you anything, husband?" Kaylea asked. Thorin shook his head and drew her close, she curled against him, laying her head on his shoulder. They watched the fire in silence for a time, Thorin gently stroking her hair. Kaylea had lived so much of her life in peril and uncertainty, she had come to relish these moments. With her husband's strong arms around her she felt so completely safe, like everything was right in the world.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch? Is there something wrong with the bed?" Thorin teased. He turned and kissed her cheek again.

Kaylea chuckled at him. "Yes. You were not in it." She let her fingers travel inside his shirt, tracing the muscles of his chest.

"Ah, I have been having the same problem." Thorin tilted her head up and kissed her, deeply. Kaylea could never get enough of the way Thorin tasted, like rain on hot earth, with a hint of some half-remembered exotic spice. The smell of frankincense in his hair, the touch of his hands that should be rough but were somehow soft as silk. The feel of his lips still sent the same thrills up her spine she had felt in their first days together; she could lay in his arms and kiss him for hours.

"Shall we drink a toast to celebrate?" Thorin asked, after a long moment.

Kaylea smiled at him and pushed the blanket in her lap aside. She could feel Thorin's eyes on her as she went into the kitchen to retrieve a tall bottle and two glasses, secretly glad she had showered and put on a clean tunic and leggings before laying down on the couch. Thorin was used to her work clothes, but he had been gone for weeks; she always liked to make an effort to welcome him home.

"What brought you home so early?" Kaylea asked as she poured the drinks. "I was not expecting you for a few days yet."

Thorin took his drink then reached over and ran his fingers down one of her braids as she took a seat beside him. "You really have to ask that? After all this time?" He clicked his glass to hers. "You know there is no place in this world I would rather be than with you. I finished my business early and rushed home to my beautiful wife. And I got to wake her with a kiss. A perfect way to end the day." He refilled their glasses. "There are two wagons of fine steel coming behind me, enough to last me until next year. The steel they are making in Erebor now is amazing, better than any ever made by Elves." He sipped at his drink, frowning. "There was a meeting of the Seven Families while I was there."

Kaylea sat back. "A meeting of the Families? How many years has it been since there was one of those?"

"So long I don't remember," Thorin said thoughtfully.

Kaylea could tell there was something weighing on his mind, no doubt it involved the meeting. She watched him closely, hoping to pick up a clue, but Thorin gave her no sign. She leaned against his shoulder and waited for him to go on. After the silence had stretched on for some time, she risked another question. "Why the meeting?"