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It had been a long day of riding in the company through the forest. It had been a beautiful but windy day, trees swaying in the strong wind. Your braid, which had grown a lot since you first arrived in Middle Earth, was suffering the wind greatly as it blew leaves, dirt, and small sticks at the company. The dwarves were all taking the weather’s treatment in stride, only a few complaints here and there, and you could see Thorin up in the front, his hair majestically waving through the winds current as always.

You were jealous of the king and how he seemed to always keep his hair so soft and tangle-free, even with the strong winds. Was it a certain oil he used? Some sort of softening agent that kept it so silky smooth? You huffed, and Thorin finally called out when the company arrived to a small clearing, a seemingly good place for camp.

“We stop here for the day. Nori, Gloin, get the fire started.”

Nori and Gloin jumped from their horses, and Thorin turned to you.

“(Y/n), you’re watching the ponies with Master Baggins.”

You nodded, smiling softly though you were frustrated with the weather.

“Okay. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

Thorin seemed to think about it before shaking his head.

“No, but I’m sure you can make yourself more useful to someone else in the camp once the ponies are finished and Master Baggins can take them over.”

You nodded, immediately thinking of Bombur, and you jumped from your horse, gathering the ponies of the dwarves. Tying them up, you began to loosen their saddles and their bags, gently brushing their manes. Bilbo came beside you, patting Minty's mane, his hair wind-swept.

“I can take them over, dear. You should probably try to take care of your hair.”

You grabbed your braid, eyes bulging from the sight of a matted rope of the frizziest hair you’d seen in your life. Leaves, small twigs, and other small fauna was in your hair, making it a worse mess than it was before. You knew you should have rebraided it the other day, but Mahal, you’d been so busy and negligent of it that it had become what it was now. You sighed and nodded, and Bilbo looked at you apologetically.

“I don’t mean to be impolite about it, but goodness, it has to be so uncomfortable with all those sticks!”

You smiled lightly, patting Bilbo’s back.

“It’s alright, Bilbo. I didn’t take any offence to it at all. You’re right.”

Bilbo’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and you smiled before setting up your spot in the camp. Immediately, you sat down and began to work at your hair. Plucking all of the leaves that you could from it, time passed by incredibly fast, and in no time, Bombur was calling the dwarves for dinner. Having made little progress on your hair, you hoped that dinner would ease your growing agitation.

Grabbing your bowl of stew, Bofur, Fili, and Kili began to entertain the dwarves while you sat away from them all, shoveling your food into your mouth quickly so you could get back to your hair before it got too late. When your bowl was licked clean, you set it aside quickly and began to work on the braid again. Plucking the smaller sticks for your hair first, you carefully worked them out and became distracted from the pieces of dead leaves scattered in your tangled locks.

Plucking the pieces out one by one, time became an illusion all over again, and when you finally came back to reality, all of the company, except for Thorin, who was on watch, were snoring away. Your arms were burning, the joints in your fingers sore, and you were frustrated beyond relief. The matted mess of your hair was yielding to be extremely difficult to untangle, and you didn’t have a good brush with you to help with the mess.

Needless to say, you needed help.

However, the only person up that was awake along with you was Thorin, and there was no way you were enlisting the help of the King. You brought your hands bag up, tugging at a stubborn twig, and it snapped. You slammed your hands down into your lap, clutching your trousers tightly and clenching your teeth. You were so fucking frustrated, good lord.

Thorin, who had heard the sound of your frustration, looked over, and you pleaded with him, giving him a look of utter defeat and frustration.

“Thorin, please help me with my hair. I can’t get any of the tangles and fauna out so I can rebraid it. You gotta tell me what you use because your hair always so damn nice without even trying.”

Thorin seemed to freeze, bristling from the words coming from your lips. His ears went red from the compliment of his hair always looking nice, and he swallowed thickly before turning away from you.

“No, I can’t help you. Go to sleep. We will leave you behind if you sleep in.”

You felt yourself seem to sink in defeat, and Mahal, you were so frustrated, embarrassed, and just so done that your eyes welled up with tears. Thorin seemed shocked from the tears welling in your eyes, and you turned away from him, tugging at the end of your braid and trying not to sob in defeat as you hid your face from him.

Thorin clenched his fists. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but there were certain things that he couldn’t do for you because of the customs and traditions of his people. A dwarf was only to braid the hair of immediate family and those they intended to court…it was wrong to just braid anothers hair! Even just touching anothers hair was wrong! But you were human…was it possible that you hadn’t known?

“Please…Please don’t cry, (Y/n). I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t refuse you because I don’t want to help you. In my culture, hair braiding is reserved only for immediate family and those we intend to court…as well as even touching it.”

You sniffled a bit and nodded, seeming not really be listening to him, and Thorin sighed deeply. Your hair truly was a mess, and he swore he could see a...possibly living butterfly stuck in it too. Moving slowly, Thorin sat behind you, and you gazed back at him in surprise, your cheeks wet and red with tears. Thorin felt bad and he replied to you softly.

“Alright…I’ll help you with your hair….in the human way.”

You wiped your face furiously, asking with a broken voice.

“You…you will?”

“Yes, only because your hair truly does look terrible.”

You shook your head, head hanging down though you held a small smile.

“Oh…Thorin, you flatter me so. I might faint before you if you keep saying such things.”

Thorin could hear the sarcasm in your voice, the amusement like a soft melody in a chorus of angered voices. Thorin chuckled softly, replying as he began to skillfully fix your hair.

“I have been told that I am gifted with words.”

You hummed a bit, and a comfortable silence came upon you both. The soft tugging and brushing comforted you, and Thorin said softly.

“I am sorry for making you cry, (Y/n).”

“It wasn’t just you, Thorin. It was…at the situation. I shouldn’t be so negligent of my hair, but these past few days have kept me preoccupied. Fighting orcs, going on the run, and travelling while at the mercy of Nature doesn’t really give much time to attend to one’s hair.”

Thorin nodded, glad that he wasn’t the sole reason for making you cry, but he still felt bad all the same. Gently, Thorin brushed through your hair, taking out all of the twigs and missed leaves and tangles. As he worked his comb through your hair, Thorin thickly swallowed. Your hair was…very nice. So incredibly nice when brushed through and taken care of.

“I was so frustrated that I was ready to cut my braid off.”

Thorin almost choked on his own saliva and oxygen, and he hissed.

“Why on earth would you do that?!”

You sighed and replied softly, picking at a loose thread in your trousers.

“Because it would be easier to deal with short hair than my long hair. Hair isn’t held at such a high standard in human culture, not even in my world. We can wear our hair as we please, short or long. Besides, Bilbo’s hair is so short, he doesn’t have to worry about tangles and sticks like I have to.”

Thorin shook his head.

“Long hair can be just as manageable as short hair. With hair like yours, it would be devastating to see it cut off.”


Thorin’s ears pinked, and he admitted softly as he finally got your hair from its matted prison.

“Because you have very beautiful hair. Dwarves only cut their hair in the event of dishonor and in mourning. You have certainly not dishonored anybody and nobody in the company has perished yet.”

You asked softly as Thorin’s fingers ran through your scalp, finding where the knots were and beginning to gently brush them out.

“What about beards?”

“Of the highest degree. A dwarf’s beard is his most prized feature. The cutting and shaving of a dwarf’s beard is an incredible sign of shame.”

You paused, thinking about Thorin’s beard, and you asked him.

“Then why do you wear yours short? You haven’t shamed any of us.”

Thorin sighed deeply, his hands falling from your head and into his lap.

“No, maybe not you or the company…but my people as a whole. I have lost Erebor…lost my father and grandfather…”

His voice trailed off, and you shook your head, turning to Thorin. Thorin gazed at you with a sad look in his eyes, and you placed your hands atop his own.

“Thorin, I do not know what endeavors you have went through in your life. I only know of the ones Balin has told…but I don’t think you have shamed anyone. You’ve created a life of prosperity and plenty in Ered Luin. You have led your people for a hundred years and they prosper. If anything, you became the king that they needed, giving them what it is that they needed so desperately…and that was a home.”

Thorin’s jaw went slack, and you looked down, gently squeezing his hands in comfort.

“You might feel as though you have dishonored your people because of the loss of Erebor…for not having found your father just yet…for the death of your grandfather, but you must understand that Smaug is a much greater foe than anybody had thought he was…as well as Azog. I’ve never faced dragons or orc warlords or been betrayed by a people who had promised to stand by my side even in the greatest of challenges…but I know that the things you have done for your people is far from being called to shame…at least, in my world.”

Thorin’s eyes became glassy, and you smiled at him softly. Turning back around, you said to him, your cheeks flushing as the feeling of his hands in your own lingered.

“You are not a shame to us, Thorin…especially not to me.”

There was a moment of silence before his hands slowly came to your hair, and he whispered softly.

“You have no reason to speak such things for me, but you do it so freely…why?”

“Because it seems that nobody else is willing to do so.”

Thorin began to gently braid your hair, making sure it was tight and wouldn’t become frizzy or matted too soon. You said softly.

“Words won’t do much…but it is always a comfort to know that someone will stay by your side, no matter what has happened and what will happen.”

Thorin was quiet, simply focusing on your braid, but his fingers trembled, your words running through his mind a mile a minute. For once, Thorin was at a loss for words, unable to think of anything to say to you. You owed him nothing, not even loyalty, but yet you gave it to him so freely and unconditionally. It was mind-boggling how someone could have so much trust in him just to do it.

Tying off your braid with a leather strip, you were quiet before saying softly.

“I’m sorry for bursting out like I did.”

“It is alright. Do not apologize to me.”

Thorin held onto the end of your hair, simply feeling the softness of the lock before allowing it to fall against your back. He stood, his face red, and he cleared his throat.

“You should get some sleep.”

You nodded and lied down, trying to make the blush on your face go away as well as the pounding of your heart, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Goodnight, Thorin.”

It was quiet before you heard Thorin say softly.

“Goodnight, (Y/n).”

Smiling, you allowed yourself to calm and fall to sleep. Thorin, who had gone back to his original spot, stared at you with a soft look on his face. He was rubbing his fingers together, remembering the feeling of your hair. Tingles ran down his spine, and Thorin paused before putting his face in his hands.

“Oh, Mahal…”

He was so screwed.

Chapter Text

After the incident with your hair and Thorin about three nights before, you had noticed that Thorin had become incredibly reserved. Bilbo had commented on how nice your hair was, and you swore you had flushed redder than the tunic on Thorin’s body. Bilbo had brushed it off as you being shy, and the day had gone on without mishap. However, whenever the wind began to pick up again, you grumbled and flicked your hood up. There was no way you were going to have another incident with your hair.

After a while of riding, Thorin called everyone to stop for the night. The wind was picking up too much, thunder rumbling in the distance, and he wasn’t keen on travelling in the dark during a storm. After checking to see if a cave was empty and there were no secrets within, he ordered everyone to file in before the rain came.

Tying all of the horses together tightly before tying them to a sturdy tree, you were quick to file into the cave. It was quite small, so everyone would be in close quarters with one another, and bless the boys, but you weren’t keen on sleeping near Fili and Kili nor Bombur.

Placing your bedroll near the entrance of the cave, you sat down, taking off your boots and massaging your sore feet. Dwalin, Nori, Gloin, Bofur, and Fili were gathering as much wood as they could before the rain came, and they were quick to start a fire. As the warmth of the flames began to filter through the cold cave, Bombur began to make dinner.

Thunder rumbled from outside, and you watched as the lightning flashed across the sky. Rain began to fall, and you sighed at the smell of the droplets. Bilbo was sitting beside you, and he asked you as you began to play with the end of your braid.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a big one?”

You nodded, replying softly.

“Yes. The smell of the rain is very strong, even with it being so light. Look at the trees in the distance. Do you see how they are swaying so much? That’s the wind…this one is going to be very big. I think we might be stranded here until it lets up. The hail is already falling.”

“Aye. Let us hope the ponies are properly covered with the trees.”

You and Bilbo jolted from the sound of Thorin coming from between you two. He was surveying the land outside, watching the distant storm, and you couldn’t help but get a good look at his face.

The skin of Thorin’s face was smooth, save for a few scars here and there. The sweet scent of his hair wafted over you, and you swallowed thickly. From your position, you noticed how soft his beard looked, and you felt the urge to run your fingers through it and scratch at it. Thorin’s eyes were a beautiful dark blue from the lack of light, darting around as they looked outside.

Almost as if sensing your stare, Thorin looked down before turning to you, and you quickly looked away. You replied softly.

“The ponies will be fine. As long as there isn’t any more hail, at least.”

Thorin was quiet a moment, and you shyly looked up at him. He was still staring down at you, and you swore that it would only take a few inches to press your lips against his. Mahal, what were you thinking?! This was your king! Your face flushed, and your eyes widened when you stared at his lips before looking away, clearing your throat.

“Dinner is re-“

“-Thank Mahal! I’m starving! Move it!”

You sprang up, almost slipping as you scrambled to the pot, and the company laughed at your eagerness. Bofur called, winking.

“Ah, I can appreciate a lass who can eat!”

You held your bowl out like a beggar as Bombur filled your bowl gleefully.

“I can appreciate a dwarf who can cook!”

Bombur beamed at you brightly, and the company snickered at the jab. Bofur guffawed.

“I can cook!”

“Yeah, if you feel like eating a slab of charcoal!”

Dwalin rolled his eyes, and the princes snickered. Bofur huffed and crossed his arms.

“I told ya that it was supposed to come out like that!”

You watched the dwarves bicker back and forth with amusement, eating your vegetable and venison stew. A sudden crash of thunder made you jump, and you choked on your stew. Slamming your fist against your chest, you covered your mouth as Bilbo began to slam his hand on your back.

“Ya alright lass?”

You nodded, holding a hand up, and you noticed Thorin giving you a concerned look. You waved your hands, sputtering out after a moment.

“I’m fine. I just haven’t been in a storm as strong as this one in a very long time. We don’t really get storms like this in the Shire.”

Bilbo nodded, adding.

“Maybe a few light showers, but never a terrible storm such as this.”

Fili tilted his head.

“I thought you weren’t from Middle Earth?”

“Ah, I’m not…but Bilbo was kind enough to let me find haven in his home until I could find a job that I’m actually good at when I suddenly dropped in. It’s been about a year or so?”

You scratched the back of your neck, looking up with a scrunched face.

“I still don’t really have a grasp on time here. I do reckon we measure it quite differently than you guys do.”

You shrugged before humming, taking a big bite of your food. The dwarves all began to talk at once again, and you rolled your eyes before shaking your head with a smile. Turning away from the company, you watched as the storm moved in, counting the seconds between the rumbles. It wouldn’t be very long until it finally hit you…you were certain there was about two more miles until then.

Finishing your stew, you stretched your legs out, leaning against the wall. As the company began to settle down for the night, you looked to Thorin, who was making no move to lie down. You offered him, playing at the stray strings on your tunic.

“Um, I can take first watch.”

Thorin looked over at you, seeming to scrutinize you, and you pushed softly.

“I’m already over here by the entrance anyway.”

Thorin slowly nodded, and you settled against the wall of the cave, the cold seeping through your furs. For a while, it was quiet…the dwarves snoring away as the storm rumbled and raged on outside. You gently tapped the seconds between rumbles on your thigh, shivering as the wind seeped into the cave a bit.


You jolted and looked behind you to Thorin, who was still awake and leaning back against the cave, his pipe in his hand. You asked him softly.


“Come here.”

His voice was hushed as to avoid waking the company, and you carefully made your way to Thorin, stepping over stray dwarves as carefully as you could. When you made it to Thorin’s side, you sat down beside him, smelling the sweet smell of his pipe-weed.

“What is it, Thorin?”

Thorin took a light huff of his pipe before asking you softly.

“Have you ever smoked before?”

You shook your head, replying.

“Most of the pipe-weed of the Shire is bitter or incredibly strong. I’ve never really enjoyed any of it.”

Thorin held his pipe out for you, and you gave him a look.

“Thorin Oakenshield, are you trying to get me high?”

Thorin chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

“No, this is no pipe-weed of the Shire. This is a nicotiana tabacum that is grown alongside the seeds of fruits. It gives it a sweeter taste than the robust flavors of pipe-weed grown in Bree and the Shire.”

You gave him a skeptical look while taking his ridiculous pipe, and you marveled at the carved wood.

“Are all pipes of the dwarves so elaborate and large?”

Thorin chuckled and replied honestly.

“I would reckon only the ones that were crafted by the dwarf himself.”

You gave Thorin a look before gently placing your mouth upon the pipe, breathing in the sweet tobacco. Sweetness filled your mouth, and you hummed a bit, letting your head fall back before you allowed the smoke in your mouth to filter into your nose. Letting it sit in your lungs for a minute, you blew out and made a face. Thorin chuckled and asked you, taking the pipe when you handed it to him.

“Is it too sweet?”

“Oh no, it just hit me very hard.”

He chuckled before taking a good drag of his pipe. Thorin blew a couple of O’s, the rings wavering through the cavern, and you watched with amusement. You took a moment before you asked him softly.

“Why did you call me over, Thorin? I should be on watch right now, you know.”

Thorin looked down at you and he said.

“I…wanted to talk to you about something.”

You grabbed his pipe when he held it out for you, taking another hit from it and asked.

“Alright, what’s on your mind?”

Thorin hummed deeply and he admitted.

“It is about something that you told me the other night…when you asked me to fix your hair.”

Your cheeks flushed from the memory of his fingers being in your hair, and you instantly began to fidget with the end of your braid, twirling it around your fingers.

“You said that the things that I have done for my people were far from being considered a shame in your world…what did you mean by that?”

You hummed deeply, saying to him softly.

“In my world, your life is a book…a play told to millions. Children and adults alike have heard of your endeavors in your life…of this very quest. Believe me when I say that many people in my world consider you a hero…and many have called you the one true king.”

Thorin looked down at you in surprise before he turned away. He asked you softly.

“And what do you believe?”

“I think that they are right.”

Thorin looked over at you, and he asked you softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“How does this end, (Y/n)?”

“What, this night or the quest?”

Thorin chuckled a bit, asking.

“I suppose both.”

You chuckled and nudged his side softly, saying.

“Thorin, I’m not a fortune teller, so I can’t tell you how this night ends…and I can’t risk giving you a false sense of security when things have changed that I don't remember happening, and I don’t really remember a lot about my world or the story of your quest…but I can tell you to have faith in those who stand beside you.”

Thorin nodded, giving you a soft look, and you smiled back at him before looking away into the fire. Taking a hit from his pipe again, Thorin looked back into the fire before saying suddenly.

“Coconut oil and honey.”

“I’m sorry?”

Thorin chuckled.

“Coconut oil and honey. It’s an old mixture my mother would make for her hair, and it’s always proven to be a life-saver.”

You chuckled and pointed out to Thorin.

“Aye, but coconut oil is a luxury saved only for those of royalty, Thorin.”

“I could provide it for you.”

You shook your head, a flush coming across your face.

“Oh, no, Thorin. It’s quite alright. I just have to stop being negligent of my hair. I must say though-“

You grabbed your braid, smiling as you ran your fingers over the smooth locks, making Thorin’s face turn pink.

“-you are absolute magnificent at hair. I swear, dwarves must have some sort of magic that enables them to be so good at hair. Dare I say you have magic fingers.”

Thorin snorted, rubbing at his face and grinning through his blush.

“Please, I cannot take credit for how lovely your hair is.”

You smiled before asking him softly.

“I know that hair-touching is forbidden to those who you are not related to or courting, but may I touch your hair…the human way?”

Thorin swallowed thickly before nodding, and you gently carded your fingers through his hair. It was silky, just as you had imagined, and the curliness of the locks tickled your fingers. So, coconut oil and honey…it was no wonder his hair always smelled so incredibly sweet.

Thorin’s face went darker, and you gently felt the braid at his temple, looking at the bead that encased the hair. Thorin looked down at you as you gazed at the bead, and he swallowed thickly at the sudden image of that very bead being in your hair. Thorin gently grabbed your wrist, and you paused. He held your wrist firmly, and he gently pulled you to him, his lips feeling so soft against your own.

You were stunned, taking a moment to really register the situation, and Thorin pulled back when you didn’t kiss him back. His eyes reflected rejected, and he let go of your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You shook your head, whispering as you leaned back into him.

“No, you shouldn’t have…you should have kept going.”

Your lips laced over his again, and Thorin immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him. The position you were sitting in was awkward, so you slid into his lap, straddling him as you clutched his face, gently scratching at his beard. Thorin’s tongue teased your bottom lip, and you sighed, lips parting and allowing him to dominate your mouth.

His hands squeezed and kneaded your ass, keeping you close to him, and you entangled your fingers through his hair. Thorin growled deeply into your mouth, and his hands slipped beneath your trousers to feel the cool flesh of your ass. Squeezing tightly, he pulled back to teeth and suck at the skin of your neck. You pulled his hair a bit, and Thorin let out a small moan.

“It would be unwise for you to keep doing that, ghivashel…lest I take you right against this wall right now.”

Your face erupted into a flush from the deep register of his voice blowing hotly against your ear. Swallowing thickly at the feeling of his lips running against your neck, you paused before smirking and yanked on his hair tightly, making Thorin’s head jerk back, exposing his throat.

You trailed your tongue along his throat before biting deep into the skin of his neck, Thorin groaning deeply before he rolled the two of you over. He hissed to you, giving you a dark look.

“Stay very quiet, or I will leave you alone here.”

You clenched your jaw as Thorin leaned down, sinking his teeth into your neck and rolling his hips against yours. You gasped quietly, and Thorin’s hand slipped beneath your tunic, feeling the skin of your stomach before cupping your breast. You leaned into him, whispering softly.

“My king…”

Thorin growled deeply.

“Say it again.”

You swallowed thickly as he pinched your hardening nipple.

“My one true king.”

Thorin practically purred before he allowed his hand to slip beneath your trousers. Cupping your sex, he ground the palm of his hand into you, making you shiver and buck into him.


“-Quiet. Don’t forget what it is that I told you, darling.”

You swallowed your voice, whispering.

“Then keep my mouth busy, my king.”

Thorin snarled deeply into your ear.

“With great pleasure.”

Thorin began to ravish your lips, kissing you deeply as his fingers delved into your heat. Every whimper, every gasp, every quiet moan was swallowed by Thorin’s mouth as he touched you, stretching you for him. In and out his fingers went, spreading your wetness and your walls, feeling the way you clenched and relaxed around him, and he growled into your lips.

You were tugging on his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Thorin’s cock was growing so incredibly hard from the feeling. His hand pulled from your trousers, and you whimpered from the loss quietly. Thorin nipped and bit at your neck as he untied your trousers, opening them and exposing your glistening sex to the cold. You shivered, and Thorin untied his trousers, his hot tongue against your neck making you buck your hips up for him.

“My king…”

Thorin purred softly, and he settled closer to you, his cock brushing against your stomach, and he moved down, his lips encasing yours once more. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance, and your eyes widened as he sunk into you. Thorin covered your mouth, watching you intently as you reacted to him, his forehead against yours. You held onto his hand, toes curling and nails digging into his wrist as he fully sunk into you.

His own eyes were a bit wide from the feeling of your tightness, and he slowly began to move against you, hips rolling sensually into you. Your eyebrows furrowed up, taking shaky breaths in as Thorin’s hand gripped your mouth tightly. Thorin growled deeply as you grabbed onto his hair, and he began to fuck you harder, breathing sharply through his nose and eyes closing in concentration. Every thrust was delicious, his cock pushing as deep as it could go inside of you, and stretching you so good. You had never felt anything so good before in your life, and Thorin, though gentle, was firm in his movements.

His free hand came between your bodies, pinching and kneading your breasts, and the sensation sent tingles down your spine. Your walls constricted around Thorin, making him let out a shaky breath and you both froze when one of the company moved, adjusting in his roll. Thorin gazed down intently at you, and you stared up at him.

‘Stay still,’ his eyes said to you. ‘Don’t move.’

‘I won’t.’

The member stopped moving, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. Slowly, he began to move against you again, sinking himself in and out of you slowly before picking up pace again. Over and over, he fucked your cunt, filling you with him for as long as he could. Thorin tightened his hold on your mouth once he felt your walls tighten incredibly around him.


Thorin whispered to himself. A couple more thrusts, and Thorin was cumming deep inside you, keeping you close to him as he pumped you full of his seed. You whimpered a bit as he slipped out of you, and Thorin gently wiped the sweat from your forehead, kissing your temple and then your lips. You sighed deeply, relaxing against him, and Thorin took a moment to catch his breath.

Slowly, Thorin fixed your trousers before fixing his own, and he gently covered you with his furs. Thorin stood, walking to one of the members of the company and kicking them awake.

“It’s your turn for watch.”

He said, his voice deep and almost shaking, and Bofur woke groggily.

“Alright, Alright…”

Thorin walked back over to you and lied down carefully beside you, gathering you up into his arms. You snuggled into his embrace, hiding beneath his furs and snuggling into his chest. Fingers began to undo your braid, and you sighed softly.

“What are you doing, Thorin?”

Thorin whispered into your forehead.

“I am touching your hair…in the dwarven way.”

You flushed deeply, smiling against his chest as he took a section of your unbraided hair from your temple and began to braid it carefully. Once he was done, Thorin dug into a secret pocket in his fur coat and took out a golden bead, adorned with the Durin family crest and sapphires. Clipping into your braid, he kissed your forehead firmly before beginning to run his fingers through your hair.

“In the morning, we shall go to the river if the deluge is done…and I will wash your hair for you…if you will wash mine.”

You smiled and brought your hand up to his beard, gently feeling the coarse but soft curls. Gently scratching the bottom of his jaw, Thorin hummed deeply in appreciation.

“I would never pass an opportunity to touch your hair.”

Thorin chuckled deeply as he massaged your scalp.

“Starting tomorrow, you will begin riding with me as well.”

You nodded before snuggling into his chest, mumbling tiredly.

“Whatever you want, my king.”