Seeking Warmth

Summary: Thorin receives a late night visitor to his forge seeking his warm embrace.

Author: kilisdwarfprincess.

Genre: Romance/Drama.

Length: One-Shot.

Pairing: Thorin/OC.

Rating: NC-17 for adult themes, situations and so on and so forth.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Tolkien related or recognised. I own only the original characters and story that does not take place in the Hobbit. No profit is made of this story but the entertainment of its readers.

Author's Note: I blame kinkyhobbitconfessions on tumblr for this. Every time I read a Thorin confession I just think of how much my confession for him would be to have sex in his forge late at night while he is all sweaty and dirty and so this was created. Onua is not based off any of my existing characters; I just made her up on the spot.

Enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think.

She'd felt him crawl out of bed hours ago, heard the sing of steel and hammer that signalled he had gone back into the forge. Rolling over in the bed she looked at the empty space that lay before her. The blankets and furs had been shoved back roughly and the sheet was crumpled from his restless slumber before he'd snuck out.

With a sigh, Onua pushed herself up and glanced about the room. This couldn't keep happening. It was one thing for him to work in the daylight, making the weapons for men who treated him like a lesser being yet yearned after his skills with a hammer but it was another to leave his bed almost every night of late.

Pushing the covers back and climbing out of the bed Onua bent down and collected her night dress; it having been unneeded this night. Unless he was away, Onua rarely wore the things. He preferred her bare. After pulling the dress on, she loosely braided her copper curls back, the large, long braid hanging over one shoulder as she made her way to the door.

He could not keep doing this. Not when the time they had was as sparse as it had been; his mind was scattered.

While she knew not of what caused his sleepless nights, and he being so disinclined to give her any reasons, Onua tried her best to keep him distracted when she could.

Slipping out into the hall, she crept past the rooms of his nephews and sister, and padded down the stairs.

Belegost felt like it had been abandoned. The halls were disserted; the mines shut for another night, what few children were among the populace had been put to bed hours ago and so it was easy for Onua to make the trek from the large home of Thorin Oakenshield and his family to where his forge was.

Here, in Belegost, it was a grand building; in the towns below and beyond their haven, the forges were huts and small confines he would share with other smiths. The clang of his hammer could be heard outside and she smiled; at least, he did their race proud with his skills at forging weapons.

Pushing open the door as gently as she was able, Onua slipped into forge.

There he was, all sweat and dirt and hard muscles and anger and focus; Thorin Oakenshield.

For his rage was taken out upon the steel, not another. He could make even the bravest of their race and mans cower with one of his hard stares or firm bellows but he would never strike another unless necessary.

Onua watched him quietly from her place by the door; watched the way his jaw clenched with each beat of the hammer upon the steel, the way his shoulders tensed and his back muscles tightened while his arms flexed and bulged, revealing the hidden strength that lay beneath the stature of his build.

She waited until he had risen from his place and moved to sink the steel into hot coals before moving to him. Sliding her arms around his bare waist, she felt him tense for a second before he settled.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," he said. Onua rested her head against his shoulder, nodding as she ran her hands up his belly and chest. He trembled beneath her touch. It was strange to think, that while he held power over all in Belegost and had fought in countless battles in his long years, it was her touch alone that held power over him.

"I believe you may wake all of Belegost at this rate," she teased back lightly. It was nice to feel the rumble in his chest and back that accompanied his chuckle.

"Aye lass, but I couldn't rest and being in here-"

"Helps you focus," she finished for him, releasing her hold on him as he turned to her. "I worry for you."

He smiled; a rare thing for him. Onua had seen him smile more than any other; she'd seen the smile upon his face the days each his nephews were born, the hidden smirk from him whenever Kili and Fili created havoc before promptly lecturing them, and then there was the smile reserved only for her. It was sweet and smouldering as his eyes burned while his mouth curved up.

He sat back down upon his seat and drew her to him with one arm about her waist. "You needn't Onua."

"What kind of lover would I be if I didn't worry over you?" she questioned, smiling as he laid his head upon her breasts.

After a moment he sighed heavily. "It is merely dreams that trouble me. They will past in time," he murmured into her chest.

Onua threaded her hand through his mane of black hair, using it to tilt his head up to meet hers. "Until then, let me give you distraction that will not take you from our bed," she told him; green eyes warm.

Her lips were soft, full and welcoming; they always were. Thorin stood, both arms enveloping Onua into the warmth of his body as he took charge of their kiss. Passion. If there was one thing about Thorin that Onua loved more than anything was his passion.

Always there was haste to their couplings of late; rough and fast. It left Onua sore and upset. The Thorin she wanted took his time; let things build and escalate until her toes curled, her lips parted in a silent cry and her heart stopped within her chest. Moments like those were gone and Onua was determined to get them back; she wanted to know Thorin loved her and wanted her, that she was not just his quick answer for a short temper.

"Slow, Thorin. We have time," she whispered against his lips as he broke their kiss to pepper little ones along her jaw.

Calloused hands ran down full hips and a plump backside to grab handfuls of her dress. The heat of the forge made her sweat; the dress clung to her, highlighting curves that would make many a man, dwarf or no, ache for.

He tugged the skirt up as he pressed his weight upon her. Her back met the anvil as his mouth descended onto her throat.

Hands grabbed at her thighs and hoisted her up, his arms tensing as he held her weight well, parting her thighs and stepping between them. The dress bunched at her waist and Thorin growled into her throat as she scratched her nails across his shoulder. He was like rippling liquid and scorching flame all at once.

Onua's breath hitched in her throat as his fingers skimmed up along the inside of her thigh. Thorin was notorious for teasing her. He had done so once in a thought to be emptied hall. They'd nearly been spotted by a sentry who was patrolling only Thorin had pulled her back into the shadows, pressed her against the wall, covered her mouth and taken her.

She moaned at the memory of her heart beating wildly in her chest and ears pounding at the worry of being caught in such a situation. Thorin had torturously moved slow, driving her to the brink of her sanity before joining her in tumbling over the edge of the cliff.

Clutching tightly to him, Onua met his sapphire gaze and had to bit her lip. His eyes were aflame; darkened to near black with desire as his hand inched closer to the apex of her thighs.

He kept her eyes prisoner, watching as she worried her lip with her teeth as he stayed his hand at the last moment.

The barest of smirks curved the corner of his mouth.

Anticipation. It made Onua tremble as she waited for Thorin to move or do something. She could feel his fingers against the highest point of her thigh, stroking ever so softly as one might the breast of a bird. She knew he was fond of her thighs, he'd once even told her.

They'd been sprawled out before the hearth of his room, his body resting a top hers as they recovered from their coupling. He had been pressing kisses to her chest and the hollow of her throat when he'd murmured something about getting up and moving to the bed. She hadn't wanted to and when he'd made to move, her thighs had clamped firmly upon his hips as her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him prisoner. Thorin had chuckled and ran a hand along her tense thigh, eyes alight as he murmured that if she wished to keep him prisoner between her thighs for the rest of their days, he would not object for they were his favoured part of her.

Thorin's fingers slipping into her drew a startled cry from Onua's lips and her eyes rolled back into her head as he traced his thumb over her clit.

Such skilled fingers in more than just weapon's forging she thought breathlessly.

Her head tilted back and chest arched forward as he thrust a finger into her folds. She moaned as his lips descended upon what was exposed of her right shoulder, the dress having slipped off in her moving.

Each thrust of his finger and pressing down upon her clit was met with a sharp nip to her pale flesh that drew a moan of pleasure from her parted lips.

Her legs came up and wrapped about Thorin's waist, her feet digging into his backside and drawing him closer.

She could imagine how this looked; Thorin bare-chested, sweat and dirt streaking his skin standing before his anvil with his lover all but crying from pleasure as he teased her relentlessly with his fingers. She knew she probably looked and sounded like some wanton human whore but little did she care. Thorin was her only concern and despite the effort it took, Onua managed to open her eyes and find Thorin's.

He was not looking at her face. No, his eyes were cast down upon where he was pleasuring her. Onua saw the furrow of his brows, the strain of his breeches from his erection and how his eyes were transfixed upon his own actions.

Her sharp gasp as he slipped a second finger into her, drew his gaze up for a mere second; eyes dark and smouldering caught watering ones as her muscles tightened upon his fingers, her pleasure almost reaching breaking point before he broke the stare and lowered his gaze again.

Onua clutched at his shoulder and the anvil, rolling her hips to meet his fingers eagerly, seeking her release from the slow, agonizing pressure that was building within her.

His fingers were gone. She whimpered her protest, wanting, needing her release only to gasp as he tore the dress down, revealing her breasts to his heated gaze and leaving the dress bunched at her waist; a mere afterthought.

Completely undressing was too unbearable to even ponder; no, she just wanted Thorin to return to pleasuring her.

Lips; warm yet parched captured one nipple and then his tongue was there, soothing over the harden peak making Onua shiver and groan. One hand remained clutching at her thigh as the other trailed up her stomach and ribs.

It brushed the underside of her breast and then his thumb rubbed over her nipple. Onua whimpered as the rough pad of his thumb scratched over her. Her feet dug deeper into his backside, nails dug into his shoulder as her other hand sunk into the mane of his hair and pressed his mouth closer to her breast.

His hand dug into her thigh, parting her legs further as he settled his weight between her legs.

He left her breast, kissing his way up the hollow of her throat before sealing his mouth upon her in a breathless kiss; hips jerking against hers. Releasing his hair and shoulder, Onua trailed her fingers down his strong, chiselled chest and abdomen.

She delighted in the way his stomach tense and coiled at her light touch; poor Thorin was so ticklish across his stomach and sides. Reaching the waist of his breeches, she grasped at the belt and began to undo it, tugging at the confounded thing when it would not initially budge.

Thorin rested his head into the crook of her neck, teeth and tongue worshipping the skin there.

She smiled as his belt finally loosened and came free. Before giving him the chance, she slipped her hand down the waist band and clutched at his erection, laughing softly as he hissed and his hips cracked like a whip into her.

"Don't tease me, woman," he grunted into her ear, the hand not occupied with her thigh moving to clutch at her backside, hauling her lower half tighter against him.

"I merely am seeing if you are ready and able, my love," she cooed, fingers stroking the pulsing, rigid flesh still confined.

He growled. "Free me woman."

The possessive way he referred to her as his woman never bothered her much; Onua enjoyed seeing this more primal, desperate, animalistic side of her lover. Taking some pity on him, she slowly released him and began to untie his breeches.

Her skin was flushed, they were both sweating; breaths coming rough and short as she pushed away the final layer of clothing between them.

Thorin wasted no time once her feet pushed his pants to his knees. His gripped tightened and he entered her in one powerful thrust.

He groaned in relief as he sunk deep into her heat, muscles tensing and he all but on the brink of release already.

Onua was breathless; her lips parted in a silent cry as her lover leaned her back onto her cooling anvil and began to pull out of her.

The pace was slow but hard. Each thrust bounced Onua, her moans reverberating off the walls of the forge as her body met Thorin's willingly and with renewed eagerness. While his fingers were wonderful, the feel of Thorin deep within her; their hips flush, chests crushed to one another, her legs tight about him, his hands holding her like a lifeline and their tongues and teeth battling for dominance were better than any other earthly pleasure Onua knew.

It was at times like this that both were completely revealed to one another. Thorin clung to her and she welcomed him. She was the light in his darkest hour and he was the warmth she had ever craved. As it always had been between them.

He broke their passionate kiss to lean his head into her shoulder, his weight pressing further upon her as he increased his pace. Each thrust drew a cry from Onua and a groan from Thorin.

Onua wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned her temple against his, nails biting into the flesh on his back as she bit her lip, feeling the spring coiling within her belly.

He became more erratic; his thrusts uncoordinated as his own release built.

He released her backside in favour of his thumb finding her clit again. It was enough. Coupled with his thrusts, Onua's pleasure snapped and she tumbled over the edge of the precipice into a blinding release.

Thorin thrust into her sharply a few more times, riding her release and coming to his own with a hoarse cry of her name; sinking deep within her and holding himself there.

She was panting when her thoughts finally came back to her. Thorin's head was resting upon her shoulder, his arms shaking as he held her up and against him while they both trembled in the aftermath.

Sweat covered them both in a fine sheen and Onua slid her hands from his back to his neck, rubbing her thumb over his pulse as she tried to steady her own breathing.

He wrapped his free arm about her hips and held her to him, the anvil the only thing keeping them from tumbling to the ground.

Onua leaned her cheek against his hair, savouring the feel of him in and against her as she eyes watched the fire in the forge dance hypnotically before her.

"I love you," she murmured after a moment, pulling back and tilting his face up to hers, "sweat, dirt and all." Their eyes met and she smiled whilst brushing his hair back from his face as he chuckled.

"And I you," he rumbled as he slid his hand along her back and side gently. They stayed within each other's arms until the cock crowed; signalling that a new day was to begin.

He redressed, offering her his coat and second tunic upon seeing how badly damaged her night dress was.

As they made to leave the forge, Thorin slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her back against him tightly; lips finding her ear. "Thank you, Onua." He kissed the spot just below her ear before he pulled away.

Onua smiled softly at him and nodded.