“Thorin’s Dream of Love”, Ch. 4 (R): Healing For Some, October 6, 2013 Gratiana Lovelace (Post #454)
(This is an original fan fiction story by Gratiana Lovelace; All rights reserved; The characters from “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” are owned by Warner Brothers, no copyright infringement is intended)
[From time to time, I will illustrate my story with my dream cast of: Richard Armitage as Prince Thorin Oakenshield, Lucy Griffiths as Lady Kiralin, Jeffrey Thomas as King Thror, Mike Mizrahi as Prince Thrain, Lee Pace as King Thranduil, Graham McTavish as Lord Dwalin, Orlando Bloom as Prince Legolas, and Evangeline Lilly as Captain Tauriel, etc.]
Author’s Mature Content Note: “Thorin’s Dream of Love” is a story of romance and intrigue set amidst the backdrop of Middle Earth. As such there will be some passages in this story involving heartfelt love scenes (R rated) and some passages involving highly dramatic moments. I will label the maturity rating of those chapters accordingly. Otherwise, the general rating for this story is PG or PG-13 due to some mature situations and topics. If you are unable or unwilling to attend a movie with the ratings that I provide, then please do not read the chapters with those labels. This is my disclaimer.
Author’s Recap from the previous installment: Thorin still dreams of the time before the dragon’s attack. Prince Thorin assisted Prince Legolas in hunting this afternoon. And after Prince Thorin and Prince Legolas each killed an attacking warg–with the ableassistance of their guards Lord Dwalin and Captain Tauriel–they bring the injured Captain Tauriel to be tended to at Erebor.
“Thorin’s Dream of Love”, Ch. 4 (R): Healing For Some
Returning to the fortress that is the mountain of Erebor, Prince Thorin and Lord Dwalin lead Prince Legolas and his injured Captain Tauriel to Lady Helga for healing in a room situated in a lower level midway between the kitchen and the armory. They can smell the delicious foods being prepared for them for the banquet tonight–each nose, Dwarf or Elven, choosing to seek out the aromas of the delicacies pertaining to their culture, and ignoring the rest. Lady Kiralin is not with her mother Lady Helga and Prince Thorin is both disappointed and relieved. Yet, Prince Thorin wonders where Lady Kiralin might be.
Lady Helga: Looking up from rolling bandages, she spies the injured Elven woman. “What is this?”
Lord Dwalin: “We had a wee bit of an encounter with some wargs.” He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly at his sister-in-law.
Lady Helga looks around the room for where to rest the large Elven woman, the chairs are all Dwarf size.
Lady Helga: “You will have to bring her to sit on this low bench if I am to reach her to tend to her properly.” She gestures to the bench in the middle of the room.
Prince Legolas: Gently depositing Captain Tauriel in a sitting position on the low bench, Prince Legolas hesitantly glances warmly at her [(2) right]. Then he suspiciously looks at the older Dwarf woman and he asks with no tact. “Woman, are you skilled in healing Elves? I would not want my Captain made worse for your care.”
Both Prince Thorin and Lord Dwalin each take a measured step back–preferring to stay out of the fray that is to come as they look back and forth between Lady Helga and their Elven guests.
Lady Helga: Placing her hands on her hips–not unlike the stance that her daughter Lady Kiralin took earlier in the day–Lady Helga pridefully stands up to her full height of four foot two inches tall. “Who do you think you are, boy? King of the Elves?”
Lady Helga has spent most of her life in the country and not seen Prince Legolas on his visits in previous years. So she can be excused for not recognizing him and acting appropriately. But then, Prince Legolas is not acting appropriately either.
Prince Thorin and Lord Dwalin exchange amused looks, but they say nothing.
Prince Legolas: Prince Legolas begins to respond indignantly “As a matter of fact …”
Captain Tauriel: Raising her hand interrupting her Prince, she exclaims curtly. “Cease!” Then smiling at Lady Helga, Captain Tauriel says graciously. “My good lady, I welcome your tender care and submit myself to your healing ministrations. I am Tauriel.” She eschews her rank for now.
Lady Helga: “Well! That is better. I am Lady Helga of Balin.” Surnames being eschewed, wives give their husband’s names. Lady Helga smiles kindly at the injured woman Elf, then she scowls at the Elven man who insulted her.
Prince Thorin: “Prince Legolas, would you like a tankard of ale to celebrate our successful hunt while we leave Captain Tauriel to be tended to?” Prince Thorin asks mischievously.
Lady Helga’s eyebrows rise in shock that she spoke so meanly to their honored guests. But Captain Tauriel shakes her head and smiles at Lady Helga, as if to say do not trouble yourself.
Prince Legolas: “I thank you. But I wish to stay with my Captain.” He gestures to Captain Tauriel. “With your permission, Lady Helga.” Prince Legolas requests politely, hopefully–as he did when he was a child asking for a sweet treat from the cooks in his father’s Elven palace. Lady Helga nods in agreement.
Prince Thorin: “Of course.” He nods respectfully. “Captain Tauriel is in good hands.” Prince Legolas nods his thanks to Prince Thorin. “Come Lord Dwalin, we will find the ale for ourselves.”
Lord Dwalin: “Aye.” He grunts in agreement.
Then Prince Thorin and Lord Dwalin leave the infirmary.
Having segued through the bustling kitchen to obtain their ale tankards, Prince Thorin and Lord Dwalin find a quiet corner in the cold stores pantry to drink their fill and to speak frankly without interruption. Arranging the large sacks of flour into make shift chairs, they lean back and enjoy the ale. There is silence at first between them–a welcome respite. For in Erebor’s fortress abuzz with activity to accommodate the visiting Elves, there is little quiet to be had.
Lord Dwalin: “What do you think of the Elven Prince’s Captain?”
Prince Thorin: “She was capable on the hunt–it was only that the warg surprised her when it slid into her, knocking her over.”
Lord Dwalin: “Aye. But I mean, she and Prince Legolas.” He states pointedly.
Prince Thorin: Taught to always guard his thoughts–even with longtime comrades and friends such as Dwalin–Prince Thorin dissembles benignly. “I have formed no opinion.”
Lord Dwalin: “Well, I will venture to say that it is unsuitable for persons of different rank to interact in so familiar a way.”
Prince Thorin: Prince Thorin smiles. “Oh? Are you wishing to be out of my presence, Dwalin? Ha ha ha!”
Prince Thorin: “Perhaps.” Prince Thorin nods cagily, his jaw firmly set [(3) right]. He wonders if Lord Dwalin is dancing around another, more personal topic.
Lord Dwalin: “Though in our Dwarven culture, relationships that do not lead to marriage have more dire consequences for the maid than it does for the man.”
Prince Thorin: Lord Dwalin’s intended barb hits its mark. “I know that!” Prince Thorin spits out.
Lord Dwalin: “Do you?” Lord Dwalin stares at Prince Thorin.
Prince Thorin: “What is it you want to say? You have my permission to speak freely.”
Lord Dwalin: “Thank you, my Prince.” Lord Dwalin hesitates, for this is a delicate matter of family honor and royal attentions. “You might be aware that my niece Lady Kiralin is comely–though yet to blossom into her Dwarven womanly fullness. And her beard has not yet half begun to sprout–only fuzz at the moment.” Lord Dwalin sighs disappointedly. Prince Thorin nods hesitantly. “However, Lady Kiralin’s future is ever on our family’s mind and I am tasked by her father, my brother Balin, to enter into negotiations for Lady Kiralin’s marriage after the Elven visit is concluded.”
Prince Thorin: Stunned, Prince Thorin’s mind races. “Does Lady Kiralin know this?” Lord Dwalin’s stony face does not give Prince Thorin any clues. “Has her husband already been chosen?”
Lord Dwalin: “No, and perhaps.” Lord Dwalin is loathe to imply too much lest, his suspicions about the interaction of his niece and his prince are incorrect.
Lord Dwalin: “It is just that I noticed earlier how you looked at my niece, Lady Kiralin, as if she were your …favorite pony.” Lord Dwalin crosses his arms firmly [(4) right].
Prince Thorin: “I resent that description! It demeans us both!” His anger rises as he takes a sip of ale.
Lord Dwalin: “Ah! So there is an us?” Prince Thorin shoots Lord Dwalin a look of concern–him having been caught with his own words. “My Prince, I simply do not wish for Lady Kiralin to be hurt–neither her heart, nor her honor.”
Prince Thorin: No retreating now, Prince Thorin sighs. “Hhhhh! I would marry Lady Kiralin today, if I could!” Prince Thorin blurts out, glad to have it out in the open.
Lord Dwalin: “But you cannot.” Lord Dwalin says quietly, sadly. “She is not of royal blood. Nor is our family of high noble rank. My Prince, I think it best if I remove Lady Kiralin to our family’s country estate tomorrow after the Elven visit. There she can be courted by her intended, whom I hope that she will receive favorably.”
Prince Thorin: “But …” Prince Thorin stops. He knows that he is defeated. Prince Thorin must do what is right for Lady Kiralin. “I agree.” Prince Thorin drops his head in resignation. Though he is a Prince of the House of Durin, his obligations far outweigh his privileges in his mind–at least, at this moment.
Lord Dwalin: “Thank you, my Prince. Lady Kiralin will participate in the Handmaiden’s of Durin Processional before the dancing at tonight’s Dwarven-Elven banquet–thereby bringing her to the attention of other potential husbands, beyond the two Dwarven Lords who have expressed interest in her.”
Prince Thorin’s meager hope for a way to be with Lady Kiralin out in the open crumbles with the news that she already has suitors lined up by her family. However what the two men are forgetting is that the question should be, will Lady Kiralin agree to her family’s proposed bethrothal suitor arrangements? The two men continue to sip their ales in silence until their tankards are dry. Then they part and each go their own way–with Thorin heading to his bed chamber for his bath before tonight’s banquet and other festivities for the Elven visit.
When Prince Thorin enters his bed chamber, he sees a metal bath tub filled with water situated near the warm fire in the hearth. Only the royal family have metal tubs for full body bathing–a privilege Prince Thorin enjoys thoroughly. Others must make do with wooden tubs, or merely basins, and the occasionally river cleansing. He finds no one about–and he welcomes such privacy. He dips his hand into the tub water and finds it heated to his liking.
He quickly removes his sweaty hunting clothing–more quickly than one might expect for a Prince accustomed to being assisted dressing and undressing by servants. Lowering himself into the water, he submerges himself completely–head and all. Then upon surfacing, he washes his hair and face–rinsing with a pitcher of warm water placed to the side of the tub–then he washes everything down to his toes. The soap bar scent is a combination of pine tree and smoked sandalwood–a very masculine Dwarf aroma–and a blend unique to Prince Thorin, because Lady Kiralin oversees the soap’s making especially for him.
Kiralin. Prince Thorin closes his eyes as he lets the warm water soothe his tired muscles–and a thousand images of Lady Kiralin erupt in his mind as his thoughts wander to their being together. Their couplings have been but a few times–stolen moments of tenderness and pleasure–their finding it difficult to escape the notice of others, even in the dark of night. But his body tingles in memory of her developing Dwarven womanly curves against his muscled Dwarven body, her soft fuzzy cheeks against his bearded cheeks, her sweet whispers of love in his ears. How can he give her up? His young 24 year old heart muses. He wishes her to come to him as he dozes. And then, she does.
Softly knocking and then unlatching Prince Thorin’s bedchamber door, Lady Kiralin slips into the room quietly with another almost hot pitcher of water for his final bath rinsing–carefully latching the door behind her. Lady Kiralin sees Prince Thorin lying with his eyes closed in his bath tub and she goes to him.
Lady Kiralin: Lady Kiralin [(5) right] smiles softly seeing him so relaxed. “My Prince, I have your final rinsing for your bath. Do you wish it now, or shall I set it by the fire to remain warm for you?” She asks politely with a small smile upon her lips and blushing cheeks for her seeing the bath water lap against his muscular chest as his breathing rises and falls.
Prince Thorin: Mistaking Lady Kiralin’s formality for protocol in the presence of her mother, he intones evenly–with his eyes still closed. “Thank you. Please pour it over my hair, face, and chest. And if Lady Helga could please fetch me a towel to dry off with, I will stand up in my bath.” He leans forward in the bath and waits.
Lady Kiralin: “Aye, my Prince. But I fear you will have long to wait for a towel from Mama. She is still below, engaged with healing the Elven Captain.”
Prince Thorin: He opens his eyes and turns to her with a smile. “Oh? We are alone.” He smoulders as he turns to look behind him.
Then Lady Kiralin douses Prince Thorin over his head and chest with the warm water.
Lady Kiralin: “Ha ha ha ha ha!” She giggles in a hushed way so they will not be overheard. For her sense of close communion with her prince has lead her to drop her formality when they are alone–as they are now.
Prince Thorin: Feeling playful, his arm reaches out for her and misses as he stands up in his tub, dripping wet. “You cannot escape me, little Kiralin! You are mine!”
Lady Kiralin: “Eeee!” She squeals a bit too loudly–stepping away from him just in time, before her formal gown for this evening becomes wet from his hands.
There is a knock on the closed bed chamber door.
Guard: “Is all well?” The guard asks through the closed bed chamber door as he stands in the corridor.
Realizing that not even a thick wooden bed chamber door can provide privacy when there is a guard present, Lady Kiralin and Prince Thorin gaze upon each other sheepishly.
Prince Thorin: “Yes. Please get yourself a meal before you return to guard my room during the banquet.” He orders.
Guard: “Thank you, my Prince!” The guard is hungry and he was commanded to eat. So the guard leaves to do just that.
Wrapping one towel around his waist, and using another to pat dry his wet hair and chest, Prince Thorin crosses his bed chamber and bolts the closed door.
Lady Kiralin: Her eyes widen. “What do you think you are doing?”
Prince Thorin: Dropping his drying towel from his hands and standing before her in only a towel around his abdomen–with his still wet hair lying about his shoulders in dark waves–he smirks. “The State banquet will not be for another two hours. But your loveliness sparks my hunger for you now.”
Lady Kiralin: Staying standing where she is, she smiles, longingly. “But I am all dressed and coiffed for the Handmaidens of Durin Processional tonight.” She preens, knowing that she looks beautiful to him by his desirous gaze. “If we lay with each other now, I will have to miss the banquet for the disheveled condition that you will leave me in.” She whines cutely.
Prince Thorin: He smoulders. “Then pray remove your dress so it does not wrinkle. I will avoid your … coif.” He smiles mischievously.
Lady Kiralin nods blushingly, her desire overcoming her wish to be at the Dwarven court’s State banquet for the visiting Elves.
And lo, Prince Thorin’s loving ministrations are adoring, blissful, and mindful of Lady Kiralin’s hair style. Afterward, they lie cuddled together in bed sitting up on their pillows, kissing and caressing each others’ faces adoringly.
Making love with Lady Kiralin was not what Prince Thorin had intended to do when he came to his bed chamber. He had almost promised Lord Dwalin to let her go. But how can he? Yet Lady Kiralin’s future happiness weighs heavily on Prince Thorin’s mind as he caresses her face. And a stratagem to extricate her from him occurs to him.
Prince Thorin: “Your Uncle Dwalin tells me that you are to go to the country and then await your intended’s courtship.” He states non-challantly.
Lady Kiralin: She turns her head sharply to him in surprise. “What?”
Prince Thorin: “Be at ease, my Lady. I understand. If that is what you want, then I am happy for you.” Though clearly, he is not happy, he puts a good face on it–well, his beard helps him mask some of his feelings, except what his eyes betray.
Lady Kiralin: “But I love only you, Thorin! Did my family not think to consult me about what direction my thoughts of happiness tend?” She asks with great annoyance.
Prince Thorin: “Ah! Your family is only thinking about your future.” He gazes at her benignly, trying to convey indifference–when indifferent he is not.
Lady Kiralin: “And what of your thoughts for my future.” She challenges him. It is time for her Thorin to step up and claim her–in her mind, and in her heart.
Prince Thorin: Though he speaks in half truths, he knows it is better for her. “Hhhh! I agree with your family. Your future does not lie … at court.” Nor with me, he thinks sadly. “My Lady, I have always spoken honestly to you that we do not have a future … together.”
Stung by Prince Thorin’s refusal of her feelings for him–but not perceiving that he is being noble–Lady Kiralin quickly stands up from the bed wrapping the bed sheet around her to cover her nakedness–to maintain some shred of her dignity. She is hurt and confused. Thorin is her first love, her only love. But he does not seem to share her love–nor wish to fight for their being together with his king and with his father. In their stolen moments of love together, she has mislead herself into believing that her heart beats as one with his heart.
Lady Kiralin: Lady Kiralin does not look at Prince Thorin as she moves to dress in privacy behind the standing screen or her tears would fall. “If that is your wish, then I will remove myself from court tomorrow at first light.” She states coolly and gathers up her clothes before slipping behind the standing screen.
Prince Thorin: Looking up at the canopy above his bed, he blinks back his own tears. “I think it is wise, my Lady.” He cannot bear to speak her name, for her name and her person are so dear to him. “I wish only the best for you.” He tries to keep his voice from cracking with the wrenching emotions he feels with inevitably losing her to another.
Lady Kiralin does not reply to him. After several minutes of redressing and assuring herself that her appearance is tidy, Lady Kiralin exits from behind the standing screen and walks purposely toward the door–her eyes not wavering to look over at Prince Thorin lying in his bed still warm from their lovemaking, though she dearly wants to. She slides the bolt and unlatches the door.
Prince Thorin: “Will I see you at the State banquet tonight, my Lady?”
Lady Kiralin shakes her head no without speaking.
Prince Thorin: “Please!” He pleads more stridently than he would wish. “We have shared a tender span of time with each other. I wish to give you a proper farewell before your leave taking–a remembrance.”
Lady Kiralin: Clutching the door frame to support her shaking body, she hisses with undisguised fury. “I do not need nor want a trinket from you, Prince Thorin.” She addresses him formally and without looking at him. Her time with him–what he means to her, even if she means nothing to him–cannot be bought off with an expensive gift that would be a reminder of what could not be, rather than of the love and the life that they might have shared together.
Prince Thorin: “Nay, My Lady. Nor would I presume to give you such a gift.” He nods respectfully. “But I would say goodbye to you one last time.”
Lady Kiralin curtly nods her assent, merely to get away from Prince Thorin–still without looking at him. Then she slips out of Prince Thorin’s bed chamber and makes her way to an empty servants’ stairwell where she sits unnoticed and weeps for her broken heart. She will not wait until dawn to leave Erebor. She will discreetly slip out after the Handmaidens of Durin Processional and stay in Dale tonight–less chance of her giving into a final romantic tryst with Prince Thorin, were she to see him again–before heading to her family’s country estate in the morning. And she reasons that she will not be missed tonight, because everyone will be focused on the dancing and other entertainments.
Prince Thorin rises from his bed and he solemnly dresses himself for the State banquet–regretting deeply his and Lady Kiralin’s inevitable and irrevocable final parting yet to come as a single tear born of sadness escapes his eye to become lost within his Dwarven beard [(6) right].
In the deafening silence after Lady Kiralin left his bed chamber, Prince Thorin realizes that he has done what he intended–to make her hate him. He reasons that it is better to have only one heart broken–his–than hers also. Prince Thorin knows that he was born to a life of duty and obligation, from which he cannot escape–however much that he might wish to.
To be continued with Chapter 5
“Thorin’s Dream of Love”, Ch. 4, References, 10/06/13 Gratiana Lovelace
1) “Thorin’s Dream of Love” story cover graphic original image link: Richard Armitage portraying Thorin Oakenshield in “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” was found at
2) Prince Legolas image looking tenderly at Captain Tauriel is Orlando Bloom and Evangeline Lilly found at http://heirsofdurin.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/dos77.jpg
3) Prince Thorin image (new masked background) after his hunt is Richard Armitage as Thorin Oakenshield (new background) found at http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Hobbit/Canal+BehindTheScenes/album/Canal-bts-12.jpg
4) Dwalin image is Graham McTavish found at http://www-images.theonering.org/torwp/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/dwalin-grahammctavish.jpg
5) Lady Kiralin image is Lucy Griffiths as Lady Marian in Robin Hood found at http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/RobinHood/album/seasontwo/Episode2/slides/rh202_057.jpg
6) Prince Thorin image (crop, flip, drk) is Richard Armitage as Thorin Oakenshield found at http://www.richardarmitagenet.com/images/gallery/Hobbit/DoSTrailer2/album/DOS2-10.jpg
Link to the previous “Thorin’s Dream of Love”, Ch. 3: