“Thorin’s Hope: A Love Story”, Ch. 0-1 by Gratiana Lovelace, 9/08/11 (post #11rev)

“Thorin’s Hope:  A Love Story”, Ch. 0 – 1 (PG-13), (WIP–work in progress)

This fan fiction is copyrighted by Gratiana Lovelace,   9/01/11 (nom de plume upd  1/13/12)

(No copyright infringement is intended.  This adapted short story was inspired by the characters and story in JRR Tolkin’s “The Hobbit”.  However, this story bears little resemblance to Tolkien’s Hobbit tale.  This story is for enjoyment by GratianaDS90 readers only and is not for reprint or sharing elsewhere without permission of GratianaDS90.)

Chapter Zero — Author’s note:

Although it’s nice that there is now a second token/Tolkien female character–Tauriel to be played by Evangeline Lily in “The Hobbit” films–it would also be nice to introduce a bit more estrogen into the mix.  As I think I’ve suggested in a post on Sir Peter Jackson’s Facebook site and in my one of my  earlier blogs (Post #8 Thorin and his Buddies), surely the men/Dwarves/Elves/Hobbit have wives, sweethearts, mothers, daughters, sisters, and nieces.  Otherwise, what are they fighting dragons and questing for?  So, for your consideration, the following story begins with a ‘leave taking’ scene that  I wrote that might occur just before the men/Dwarves/Elves/Hobbit leave on their quest–and then the story continues from there.

To be continued with Chapter 1

Chapter 1:  Thorin’s Farewell to His Wife Umay before his Quest Begins

The setting is Thorin Oakenshield’s bedchamber in his humble dwelling in the early morning hours.  Dawn has not yet pulled back the blanketed darkness of night.  The fireplace embers died down over night, and now merely disconsolately flicker their waning warmth.  Thorin’s armor, sword, and other traveling battle clothes lay across a bench at the foot of an imposing wooden four poster bed.  The bed itself is covered in a large plush animal fur for warmth.  Thorin sleeps peacefully on his back with his left arm lying across his rough hewn linen nightshirt covered broad chest and his left hand touching the tip of his mid length black beard laying over the covers.  Thorin’s sleeping face is one of contentment and reflects the strength of his character that has symbolized his life and rule as King Under the Mountain for the House of Durin in exile.

Nestled into Thorin’s right side–with his right arm around her–is his sweet wife Umay (pronounced, ooh-MY).   Last night, Thorin and his good wife, Umay [right],  laughed, loved, and laid with each other as if they would have no tomorrow.  Because of course, their tomorrow is almost here–and Thorin must leave Umay to go on his quest to recapture the House of Durin’s wealth from the evil dragon Smaug.  Though a Dwarf of 200 years of age, Thorin’s ardent lovemaking last night with his much younger 85 year old Dwarf wife would make a dwarf man of even 100 years of age blush.  Afterall, Thorin is a Dwarf leader only just beginning the twilight of his prime–with Dwarf age years reflecting one quarter of human years, putting him roughly at 50 in human years.

And though several bushy dwarf eyebrows were raised when Thorin took his child bride Umay to be his wife twenty five years ago–when she was but a Dwarf maid of just 60 years of age, or 15 in human years–theirs has been a great romance and love story for lo these 25 years.   Thorin’s fervent hope is that Umay might have conceived their child last night.  They have not tried to have a child previously due to Umay’s tender years–with most dwarf wives bearing their first child when they reach maturity at 100 years of age–equivalent to 25 in human years.  And until Thorin wooed and married Umay twenty five years ago–with Thorin as a dwarf man of 175 years of age then–Thorin had given up hope on having love and having a son to call his heir.

But Thorin’s love of and his love with his sweet wife Umay gave him hope then, and gives him hope now.  And prosaically, Umay’s name means hope.   Whereas, the fierce Thorin’s name is derived from his ancestor, Thor–meaning thunder.   Together, Thorin and Umay are thunder and hope–storms of devastation and the rebirth that comes after.   Thorin dreams now of his and Umay’s love and lovemaking last night as a small smile peeks through his full beard and he pulls his wife Umay closer to him while they continue to sleep soundly.

Umay lies sleeping on her left side in her delicately embroidered linen shift, facing her husband Thorin, nestled into her husband’s right side–his strong right arm enfolding her in his loving embrace with her long softly curled dark hair flowing over his arm.  Umay is a beauty by any dwarf’s estimation.  Umay’s dancing brown eyes betoken a warmth of spirit and caring.  Her round and rosy apple cheeks always have a ready smile for others.  Umay’s mouth speaks only the truth, except when she’s being kind to others.  And Umay’s pink rosebud lips kiss her husband Thorin in tenderness, joy, and love.  Umay’s small softly fuzzy haired right hand lays gently on her husband’s chest as they both breathe deeply while they continue to slumber.

Umay’s round and curvy body–with her ample bosom, round hips, abdomen, and backsides, and her sturdy legs–is just starting to reflect her upcoming zenith of zaftig dwarf womanly beauty of fullness of weight that she will attain in her 100th year.  For Dwarf women, plumpness betokens fecundity.  And thus, the beauty of Dwarf women is in their seeming to be with child all of the time.   Of course, this pleasing plumpness means that no one can actually tell when Dwarf women really are with child–not even their husbands–until they are close to delivering their precious children.  And Dwarf children are precious–not only because children are always precious, but because pregnancy is not easy for Dwarf women and many times sadly ends in the mother’s death in giving birth, or soon after their child’s birth.  The strain of pregnancy on Dwarf women’s bodies is part of the reason why Dwarf women generally wait to become with child until they are closer to their 100th year–when their bodies are more mature and stronger.

Thorin stirs awake first, gazing upon his beloved Umay–kissing her forehead and squeezing her gently in his loving embrace.  Though known as a man of strength and fierceness, it is Thorin’s honor and tenderness that drew Umay to him–as Umay’s sweetness and goodness drew Thorin to her.  Thorin slowly and gently disentangles himself from his slumbering wife’s embrace so as not to awaken her.  Umay has felt tired of late and Thorin wants her to have her rest.   Thorin alights from their bed to tend to his morning waking routine.  Then he begins to dress in his travel clothes, taking care to be quiet–to let his beloved wife Umay sleep as long as she can before they must say their final farewells.  But, Thorin drops his pants belt and it hits the stone floor of their dwelling with a clattering thud–awakening Umay.  Her sleepy eyes flutter open and she sees her beloved husband Thorin at the foot of their bed, almost dressed to leave her.

Umay:  “Thorin”?  She looks at him groggily since neither of them let each other get much sleep last night with their tender and passionate lovemaking.  “It is too early, come back to bed with me my husband.”  She says enticingly as she holds out her arms to him.

Thorin:  “Umay Dear wife, I am sorry to have awakened you.”  He says with sadness, knowing that he will be leaving her all too soon, perhaps for the last time–never to return to her.  “But I fear that it is past being early and past time for me to lie with you again.”

Umay:  “Thorin My Love, why did you not waken me earlier?”  Umay now wide awake, she quickly sits up in their bed and grabs her warm shawl to put over her nightgown as she goes to him instantly.  “Our precious time together is so short.  I do not want to miss any moment of our last hours together before you leave to go on your quest.”  She says as she embraces him as they stand in front of their fireplace–clinging to him, not wanting to let him go, though she knows that she must let him go.  “I already count the hours, nay the minutes until you return to me.”  Umay looks up into her husband’s face with tears in her eyes–knowing the many months and perhaps years that they are likely to be parted from each other while Thorin is off on this quest.  Why do men and husbands do this–leave the safety and contentment of hearth and home for uncertain and dangerous realms–Umay wonders to herself?  But, Umay must banish such doubts from her thoughts if she is to have a proper leave taking with Thorin.

Umay is quite petite of stature–even for a Dwarf woman–when standing next to her tall husband Thorin’s commanding presence.  Thorin is tall for a Dwarf man as befits his royal lineage.  But, their mutual gaze of adoration and love quickly closes the distance between them.   Thorin leans down and he tenderly kisses his dear sweet good wife Umay on her lips.  He may be Leader of the Dwarves in the House of Durin and King Under the Mountain, but here in their bed chamber–when they are alone–he is just Thorin, husband of his beloved Umay.

Thorin:  With moistened eyes as well, he promises her as he caresses her sweet face.  “Umay, My Dear wife, I will hurry back to you when we have succeeded in our quest. “  For Thorin, there is no possibility of failure–he has waited too long already to reclaim the wealth of Erebor from the evil dragon Smaug–since almost his 25th year, a lifetime ago, his lifetime ago.

Umay:  “You will be careful, will you my husband?”  Umay asks her husband Thorin fearfully.  Though her husband has not been in many battles during their brief 25 year marriage, Thorin’s body bears the scars of his past battles–as does his heart bear the scars of his past struggles.  And as Thorin’s loving wife, Umay knows her husband’s body well and she is privy to his innermost secrets.

Thorin:  “Yes.”  He says solemnly, not knowing if he can keep his promise to her.  But Thorin knows that the only way their parting will be even half way bearable is if they both pretend–if they both believe–that he will be coming back to her.  “Now help me with my leather vest, wife.  You know I can never do the buckles properly.”  He smiles and laughs–hoping to lighten her mood and his.

Umay smiles as she helps her husband with his buckles–tightening them until his vest is almost a second skin, smoothing her hand once more over the surface of his muscled chest contained therein.  Then she helps him on with his outer fur and leather coat.

Umay:  “There.”  She smiles satisfied with the handsome effect of her Dwarf husband in his battle/quest finery.

Thorin:  “Will I do, wife?”  He asks with forced amusement.

Umay:  “Yes.”  Umay hesitates, then she reveals her secret with great poignancy.  “Come back to ‘us’, my husband.”

Thorin looks at her quizzically–wondering if she is referring to the village collectively.

Thorin:  “Us?”

Gently taking Thorin’s hand, Umay places his hand flat on her plump abdomen and smiles sweetly sadly at him.

Umay:  “Us, Thorin my love.  Our child and I will be waiting for you to return to us.  He or she will come in six month’s time.”

Overjoyed, Thorin lifts Umay up into his arms and twirls her around.

Thorin:  Oh my love!  Why did you not tell me before?

Laying her head on her husband Thorin’s shoulder–as he still holds her in his arms pressed against him– she says softly while looking down shyly at the braided leather detailing on his coat.

Umay:  “Thorin, I … I was worried that you would take too many chances on your dangerous quest–and that you might not come back to me if you felt you already had an heir to follow after you.”

Umay begins to cry softly, the wetness stinging Thorin’s cheek and weakening his resolve to leave her to go on his quest.

Thorin:  “Oh my love!  Umay,”  He gently pulls her tear stained face up to look at him and he kisses her tenderly.  “Knowing that you will be waiting for me–and now that our child will also be waiting for me–makes me want to hasten my return to you even more.”

Umay:  “I am glad, my husband.”  Umay sighs girlishly as a young Dwarf woman of only 85 years, satisfied that her beloved husband Thorin wants to come back to her.

Picking up his sword in its belt, it is the last thing for him to put on over his coat.  He cannot delay their leave taking any longer.  After cinching his sword belt buckle for him, Umay lays her hands on her husband Thorin’s chest and gazes up at him adoringly and lovingly.  Thorin puts his hands over hers.

Thorin:  “Umay My Dear, you will be in my every waking thought and in my every sleeping dream while I am away from you.”

Umay:  “As you will be in my thoughts and dreams, my husband.”  Umay says while unconsciously clasping her belly where their child sleeps and grows with one hand.   I love you with all of my heart, Thorin.”  She says as tears fall again slowly down her rosy cheeks.

Thorin:  “And I love you, my Darling Umay.”  Thorin kisses his wife Umay passionately one last time–their tender embrace makes their parting bittersweet.  Then Thorin swiftly turns and exits their bedchamber and their dwelling–so that Umay does not see the tears welling up in his own eyes and threatening to stream down his own cheeks.

Umay crumples onto their bed, weeping for her husband Thorin leaving her and their coming child.

Thorin’s and Umay’s loving farewell and regretful leave taking is repeated in twelve other dwarves’ bedchambers in twelve other Dwarves’ dwellings this early morning.  For it is in their parting that loved ones and their beloved feel the depth of their love–like a long silver tether unfurled and stretching between their hearts across the miles, only to be broken in death, and not even then can that loving bond be truly severed.  Thorin and his dwarf comrades meet as planned in the clearing in the woods at dawn and begin their noble quest as they head to the Hobbit Bilbo Baggin’s home, Bag End.

To be continued with Chapter 2 (next Thursday,  Sept. 15, 2011)

 

Image References

Images of Thorin (as portrayed by Richard Armiteage) are courtesy of RANet (www.RichardArmitageNet.com).

The image used to represent Umay is by the painter Titian and was found at
http://webspace.webring.com/people/lo/oonaghsown/turkish_coat_for_venetian_dress_doco.htm