Moonlight Sonata [Thorin]

[Leona Oakenshield]

Silver-hued eyes peered out over the gentle lake. Nightfall turned this place into a serene wonderland. The half moons light dusted across the surface of the water, turning the lake silver in its ethereal glow. Water lilies danced upon the surface, twirling aimlessly through the water as the fish beneath the surface rippled past. Off in the distance crickets chirped, and owls sang to the heavens. It was peaceful, relaxing, she had the strange urge to paint the lovely visage before her, to capture such beauty and grace on paper... but she had no desire to leave. She was enjoying the serene silence, the soft hum of nature, the rhythmic lapping of the water. She glided forward with ease. She wore a loose dress, high in the back and dipping low in the front. A fluid nightgown, thin and crafted from gorgeous silks. One of few priceless possessions she had kept from her own world. It tangled amongst her legs as she slowly glided forward, seemingly mesmerized by the moons light.

She had healed from her wounds, as had Flanna, but she and Thorin had not yet left the home her in-laws had made for each other. Kili and Flanna were generous, lovely people, but Leona needed her space. She needed that freedom of silence and plenty if only for an eve. She had waited long after her family had fallen asleep, a sudden bout of Insomnia keeping her from rest, and slipped from Thorin's embrace. Surprising her slightly, the moment she had done so, a pang of loneliness entered her heart, but she had left his side, much to her own displeasure, snatched up her bow and a sling of arrows and commandeering one of many horses, vanished. The horse, stood grazing on the thick grass that grew nearby and with a soft sigh she slid from her shoes, and dipped her feet into the cool, refreshing waters, resting the bow and the arrows on the shore.

She wished Thorin was with her now, her heart pined for him, her body missed his comfortable warmth, she missed the scratch of his beard across her flesh... it had been so long since he had taken her, claimed her as his wife... she missed the addictive feel of his flesh against her own, but he was such a gentleman, not wishing to harm her or agitate her injuries, but she was healed now, she was fine and she wanted her husband. She wanted him to remind her of love, of light, of laughter. She wanted to bring him pleasure behind his wildest imaginings and she wanted him to have her until he could bare no more of her body... who was she kidding? She merely wanted him. Thorin, her lover, her life her soul mate. "Thorin..." His name would escape her in a breathy tone.

[Thorin Oakenshield]

Thorin had been wary, had been protective, had been anything and everything his upbringing, his destiny had taught him. He was a warrior and he was a protector. It was his duty to save and keep all things that were his, and Leona was his. She had been hurt and he had kept his space when possible, but mostly he'd been there with her, making sure she was healing and bringing her anything she might need. She was the future queen of Erebor, his future consort and possibly the mother of his heirs, and there was so much that she meant to him that he could not even bear the thought of losing her. So he did not consider it. Did not think of it. But now she had gotten much better, she had healed, and he knew. But still Thorin was careful. Still he did not try to take from her what she could not handle him having, and he was going to be cautious until she asked for more than just his help.

He noticed in the middle of the night that he was no longer holding onto his wife, and Thorin started. He could not bear to lose her again. He sat up, and looked about, already on the alert, but did not see her. When he wandered about to find her, he noticed that a horse was missing, and put together the pieces. With a soft whistle for the dog, that little one that Flanna so adored, he asked the little ball of fur to lead him to his wife. And just as he was mounting his own pony, the dog took off, Thorin after him, still wearing just a white shirt and khaki trousers.

He rode for a bit until the dog stopped and looked up at him, tail wagging happily. They were at... a lake. "Leona?" he called out into the dark but moonlit night, hoping and half-expecting an answer. He heard a whisper close by, his name. And he smiled. He left the pony, which quickly found a place beside Leona's horse, and the dog behind as he moved to the sound of her voice. "Leona?" he said as he knelt beside a familiar figure. "My love... you worried me. Do not leave me." He ran a hand through her hair, and dropped his lips to hers, kissing her only gently. He needed her. He wanted her love, and now, this atmosphere seemed to beckon.

[Leona Oakenshield]

She was entranced by the beauty of a place so serene, peaceful, beautiful. Enraptured and taken by nothing, by everything. Her memories drifted to times as a child, playing in her father's mansion, sitting on the knees of those rich and fine gents that would tell her how pretty she looked in her Sunday dresses and shoes riddled with mud, courtesy, of course, of her cousins. She remembered her father playing the piano, the whimsical notes that sprung from his fingers while she laughed and danced and sang, nonsensical tunes. A soft laugh would escape her and she would smile fondly. How long had it been since she remembered her father? She knew why she remembered him with such fondness now. Thorin. He reminded her of everything decent and good in this world. Made her feel safe, protected, enraptured by his warmth, trapped within his embrace, captured by his love. She was a willing captive, it was a peace she never wished to awaken from. He was everything to her.

His name would escape her in a breathy sigh. She almost wished she had awoken him to come with her, but he had looked so peaceful, the hard lines of his face having melted away during his peaceful slumber. She was an avid insomniac, he wasn't. He needed his rest, for too long he had been vigilant over her recumbent form, too long had he watched her with unbridled devotion and too long had exhaustion remained locked behind his ever resilient watch of her. He needed his rest, he needed it badly and with great reluctance she had left him too it.

So lost in her trance, she had scarcely, noticed the footfalls until they were practically upon her. She jumped only slightly, muscles tensing but it dissolved the moment her eyes laid upon her husband. Her mouth would curl in a gentle smile, brilliant and radiating in her love for him. Soundlessly he approached her, and just as softly she would reach for him, they had never needed words, it was a small knowledge that warmed the iciest parts of her soul. He would breathe her name as he came to kneel beside her and she cherished these moments. These moments when he did not have to be the King of Erebor, when he relaxed, shed himself of defenses and armor. Moments when he became only Thorin. Her Thorin.

Her brow furrowed as he spoke once more just as softly, and soft guilt flickered through her gaze as his fingers wound through her hair. "I am sorry beloved, I did not mean to make you worry. I will never leave you." She would shiver at his touch, the words scarcely above a whisper and her hands would glide up the carved muscle of his chest, over his shoulders and to the long brown locks that framed his face, she could still scarcely believe he was hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but he was kissing her, soft and gentle. She whimpered into the touch, dragging him to her, keeping him against her when he would pull away. Gently, one hand would fall back to his chest and with a gentle pressure she would ease him to lie backwards. Her slender, lithe body, crawling atop his own. Her fingers would tug down the collar of his tunic and tongue, teeth and lips would find their play upon his collarbones, slowly working their way up the strength of his throat. She lost her kisses along the edges of his beard, teasing the flesh ever so gently and pausing, only when she hovered above his lips, her hair curtaining them from the outside world.

" Je t'aime, je vous adore, je veux vous goûter, je veux vous toucher, je veux vous entendre appeler mon nom… Séjour avec moi, pour toujours." In a rare, rare moment she would speak to him in her native tongue. The lyrics falling with hunger, lust, passion and love all wound within a whisper. She would pause for only a moment, allowing him to adjust to the foreign tongue while her body glided over his, willing him to play, telling him without words that she wouldn't break. " Je t'aime means I love you." A gentle kiss was placed upon his brow. " Je vous adore means I adore you." A soft kiss upon the tip of his nose. " Je veux vous goûter means I want to taste you." A soft nibble on the edge of his earlobe. " Je veux vous toucher means I want to touch you." Her lips would trace the high definition of his cheekbone, while her fingers slid beneath the soft tunic, tracing the dips and curves of his perfectly chiseled abdomen, one finger, being bold enough to trace the very definite lines of the "v" that led to one of her favorite parts of his anatomy. Her voice dropped an octave, desire clearly coloring her tone as she spoke again. " Je veux vous entendre appeler mon nom means I want to hear you call my name." She would allow him a moment to sit up so dexterous fingers could pull the irritating cloth of the tunic up and over his head. " Séjour avec moi, pour toujours..." Her fingers would leave him entirely as they coiled around the hem of her gown, drawing it up and over her head, dropping it uselessly to the side, leaving her own body, deliciously bare. "...means stay with me forever." She would drop back to his chest, aligning their bodies, and searing his mouth with a burning kiss.

[Thorin Oakenshield]

--continued elsewhere--