In Time

Chapter Twelve

As night fell across Rivendell, the rain stopped, the wind was light and cool, and Amara sat on a white marble bench in the courtyard by the fountains where only a day earlier, Thorin kissed her. Only this night, she was alone. Elrond had announced a celebration to see the dwarves off and while Kenia, Valindra, Jassin, and Samblar were all very excited about going, but even if she could bring herself to go, Elrond sent her a missive directing her to remain in her chambers for the night, that she was relieved of her duties until the Company took their leave.

She had to tell Thorin what lay ahead of him, of his company, but there was no way she could. If Elrond caught sight of her in the Great Hall, she shuddered to think what he would do.

The courtyard was peaceful. The perfect place to think. If only she could come up with a solution. She leaned her head back against the cool marble, closed her eyes, and wracked her brain to come up with some way to get word to Thorin, but everything she thought of, she just as quickly discarded. Elrond would make certain she went nowhere near Thorin or his Company.

A frustrating sense of hopelessness welled up inside her, her eyes flooding with tears as she realized that if she could find no way to get to Thorin without Elrond seeing her, Thorin and his company would march into certain death. Death that she could prevent, if she wasn't such a fool coward.

"Just go to the Great Hall," she told herself sharply. "He cannot stop you. Not right away, any how. Stop being such a ninny, such a bloody coward, and tell him."

"Is this a private conversation or can anyone join in?"

She leaped off the bench at Thorin's unexpected murmur, whipping about to glare at him. "What the deuce are you doing, sneaking up on a body like that?"

"I didn't sneak. I came down the stairs, but I suppose you were lost in thought." He came around the corner, and into the moonlight and her heart almost stopped at the sight of him, for she was certain she'd never seen a man more handsome than the dwarf standing before her now. Gone were the white linen leggings and tunic, and in their place, he wore black trousers and a loose blue shirt that laced up the front.

"You weren't in the Great Hall," he continued, closing the gap between them, "and I was worried something was wrong."

Her throat tightened, the words lodged so tightly, she couldn't free them. Clearing it, she managed to murmur, "I thought it best if I stayed away. This is your celebration."

"I wouldn't have minded you being there."

Her heart picked up its pace as he caught her face in his hands, just as he had the night before, his thumbs sweeping lightly along her cheeks. "Thorin, please... don't..."

"I cannot help myself," came his throaty whisper, his lips only inches from hers, "for this is all I have been able to think about since last eve."

As he spoke, his lips brushed hers, his breath a warm whisper on her skin. Her eyelids grew heavy, her fingers curling of their own about his thick wrists. He kissed her, his lips tender and warm, moving against hers in a gentle caress that made her head spin and her blood grow warmer.

She didn't want to fight him, instead gave into the urge to melt into his chest, to release his wrists and slip her arms about his, her hands flat against his back. She parted her lips, her toes curling in her delicate slippers as his tongue eased between her lips to glide along hers in a silken caress. His fingers stretched into her hair, gently tugging it free from the clip at the back of her head to allow it to tumble over her shoulders.

He pulled his fingers through her hair, gathered it in a fist to tug lightly and pull her head back as he kissed down over her chin, along her throat. Her skin tingled from each touch, her eyes closing as the tip of his tongue brushed the hollow of her throat, and she slid her hands up along his solid arms, about his neck. She did the same to him, stretching her fingers into his thick, soft hair.