Someone to Watch Over Me

Chapter Thirty-One

In the days that followed, Seren adjusted to life in Erebor and with each passing day, as she worked alongside the dwarves to restore it to its former glory, she found her memories didn't quite haunt her the same way. Nightmares still plagued her on and off, and she still said nothing to Thorin, as he was busy enough between Erebor, Esgaroth, and Dale. He spent a great deal of time traveling through all three cities, and as a result, she didn't see much of him during the day.

But at night? That was a different story. Night after night, he swept her off to bed, and loved her until she thought she'd go mad from it. Then, when it was over and they were both spent and sated and peace reigned again, he'd lay with his head pillowed by her breasts, and murmur in Khuzdal to the baby, who quite often kicked back with great enthusiasm. Seren would smile, stroking Thorin's hair as he pressed a kiss into her ever burgeoning belly and then went back to whatever it was he said. He'd kept his promise to teach her his language, but it came with some difficulty for her. Even so, she didn't mind the secrets he shared with their baby. There was almost nothing more beautiful to her than the sight of him leaning over to press his lips to a spot where a knee or elbow changed the shape of her belly.

They discussed their wedding plans, and she managed to convince him they should wait until after the baby's birth, until after everything that needed to be done in Erebor was finished, or as close to finished as possible. She thought he'd fight her on it, but instead, he agreed.

The air grew warmer with each day. The last of the snows melted. From time to time, she wondered about the ice floe where Thorin and Azog had faced off. It was most likely a waterfall now, but part of her had a strong need to see it. Perhaps then she could put what happened at Ravenhill completely behind her.

As summer approached, Seren was thankful they were so far underground, for when she went above to go into Dale, the heat and humidity were enough to make her feel ill. Being pregnant certainly didn't help and eventually, she rarely strayed much farther than the Great Hall in Erebor.

One afternoon, she sat at the table in the Great Hall, nursing a cup of tea and trying to ignore the ache in her lower back. Of late, she'd had a terrible time sleeping, a terrible time getting comfortable, and she was at the point where she was more than ready for the baby to make its appearance.

"There you are." Thorin came into the room, with Dwalin and Bofur.

"Where else would I be?"

"How are ye feeling?" Bofur asked as he sank onto the bench beside her. "Ye look tired."

"That would be because I am tired," she replied, rubbing her eyes. "I thought sleeping on the ground, in the rain, was difficult. It was nothing compared to trying to sleep now."

Thorin skirted the table to sink onto her other side, legs on either side of the bench so he faced her. "Why don't you go and lie down a while?"

"I don't want to lie down." She arched her back slightly. "I just cannot get comfortable."

"Back again?" He waited for her nod, then reached down to knead the muscles where they ached the most. Although it hurt at first, he gently worked the knots free and she couldn't hold back her sigh as she shifted to also sit sideways on the bench, nestled between his thick thighs.

Dwalin chuckled. "I never thought I'd see the day when Thorin Oakenshield went soft."

Easing his arms about her waist, Thorin replied, "Soft? Because I want to do what I can to ease Seren's burden? If that's what you consider soft, I'll take it."

She sank against him, letting her eyes close as she leaned her head against his chest. "I appreciate it, love."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "It'll be over soon."