Warrior's Heart

Chapter Twenty-Three

The candles flickered softly, casting long, dancing shadows along the walls and behind Arielle, the pool glittered like cut diamonds. Thorin sat back in his chair with a sigh. It seemed like a lifetime since they'd last been alone and now that they were, he wished he had some way to make time stop for a while.

Arielle looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Whether she wished to agree with him or not, pregnancy agreed with her. Her hair grew thicker and shinier, her eyes seemed to sparkle all the time, and she glowed. He'd noticed it when she carried Tiriana, but appreciated it far more now. His wife was a stunning woman, even for a she-elf. And he knew how fortunate he was to call her his.

"You keep staring at me," she said, setting down her goblet. "Is something the matter?"

He smiled. "If I tell you, you will not believe me."

"Try me."

He reached for his tankard. She drank wine, but he preferred ale, and so took a long swallow before lowering the tankard to say, "I am sitting here, wondering how I was lucky enough to be the one to happen upon you that afternoon."

"I'm fairly certain I was the fortunate one."

"No." He shook his head. "You changed my world for the better, Arielle. And even after everything I've done—"

"You are not going to start with that again, are you, Thorin?" she asked softly, reaching across the table to catch his fingers with hers. He didn't know if she felt it, but a sharp jolt tore up his arm at the contact, just as it did every time she touched him. The air grew thicker. Breathing became more difficult. And it had been like that since he held out his hand to help her to her feet that rainy afternoon on the edge of Mirkwood.

"No, I'm not. But," he let his thumb trail over the backs of her fingers, "you have to know that I will never feel I've made it up to you."

"Stop it. I'm here because I love you and really, what other opportunity will I have to be queen?"

He just stared at her for a long moment, then smiled at the sparkle in her eyes, and let out a chuckle. Draining his tankard, he rose and came around to her side of the table. Holding out a hand, he said, "Come with me, love."

She set her hand in his, but her smile faded. "You really wish to teach me to swim? In this chilled cavern, in what is probably an icy pool? You forget, dwarf, I am not one of you."

"I forget nothing," he told her, drawing her into his arms. The white gown he'd had made for her was as cool and fluid as the water in the pool behind them, and she looked so stunningly beautiful in it. "But you forget that I do not forget."

She smiled, easing her arms about his neck. "What are you about, dwarf?"

He leaned close to brush her lips with his, and as he did so, he trailed his fingers down along her back, smiling as her gown opened and she whispered, "Thorin!"

"What?" He stepped back, giving each sleeve a gentle push to send the silk spilling from her. Ever fiber in his body tensed at the sight of her soft curves, burnished ivory by the candlelight, the way that light danced along her glorious black hair, and made her eyes glittered like emeralds. "You are so beautiful, Arielle. I only wish you could see what I see, love, when I look at you."

She smiled, a hand coming down to curve against her rounded belly. He whisked off his tunic, stepped out of his boots and hose and leggings, and stepped up to take her hand once more. "Come with me, princess. And trust me."

She didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded as he stepped into the pool. Like the waters of Mirkwood, these were warm and soothing, lapping at his bared skin as if in a caress. Arielle's fingers tightened about his, but she stepped in behind him, whispering, "What is this place?"