After the Fire

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jasna's heart slammed hard against her ribs as she drew near the Throne Room and saw Thorin standing before the throne, hands clasped behind his back, just staring at the dark stone edifice. Her throat tightened again. Her eyes stung. Her heart ached for him. He'd given so much, sacrificed so much, and for what? For him to feel he had to give it all up for her.

She had to force her feet to propel her forward and he must've heard her, for as she stepped into the Throne Room, he said, "They've made their decision," without turning toward her.

"Óin told me. Or, more accurately, he told me he suspected as much." She paused several feet from him. His shoulders were tense, he didn't turn toward her at all, and she wasn't certain she should get closer to him. "Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful."

Now he turned, smiling at her over one shoulder. "I was unsure what color, and your mother told me red signified love."

"And the white one?"

"You are unique. You stand out amongst the others."

She pressed her lips together as the stinging in her eyes sharpened. "Are you all right?"

With a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxed and his head bent slightly forward. A silence stretched between them for several minutes, and then he sighed. "I will be."

"You don't have to step down—"

"We have had this discussion countless times, Jasna, and I'll not have it again. My mind is made up."

"But—"

"Made up, mesmel, and you'll not change it."

"Thorin, are you—"

The words died on her lips as he turned toward her, his eyes dark and stormy as they met hers. "I will not change it."

"It isn't fair."

"No," he shook his head, "it isn't. But, then again, we were never promised fairness, were we? We aren't promised love, either, but I have that and I will not let it go. Not this time. And we will be fine. I have a skill, a trade, and you do as well."

She drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what? You've done nothing for which you need be sorry. I'm not sorry at all. I've made my decision and I've made my peace with it."

He closed the gap between them and curved his hands against her cheeks. "We will be fine. I promise you, we will."

"I don't want you to sacrifice something else for me."

"What I will sacrifice pales in comparison to what I will receive in return," he murmured, tilting her face to his. "I have never felt about any woman the way I do about you, Jasna. I have never felt about anyone the way I do about you. I love you. I want to be with you. And that's it. If it means I give up a stone throne in a stone room underground, so be it."

Her eyes overflowed then, hot tears slipping silently over her cheeks. His eyes softened, his thumbs sweeping gently over those tears. "Don't cry, amrâlimê." He leaned in to capture her lips with his in a slow, lingering kiss.

It was perhaps the most gentle kiss she'd ever received, and for reasons she couldn't explain, it only made her cry harder. Thorin drew back, wrapped her in his arms, and pulled her into his chest. "Don't cry. We will be fine. I promise."

She tucked her head against him as he rocked her ever so gently, until her tears finally stopped. As she still against him, he stroked her hair with one hand, pressed a kiss into the top of her head, and whispered, "Shhh... ghivashel, shhh..."