Travelling Abroad

[Thorin]

It didn't take long for Thorin to notice a dramatic shift on their plane of existence. He was thankful for being half demon, only for that reason alone. Even though the intruders were long gone, the stench of death and Igraines blood lingered long before their departure. The blood intoxicated his senses, but it would not be a dominating reaction- he felt the need to protect her.

The other men would see his change in form, but Igraine would still be hidden from it in the tent. Thorin decided to keep his form until they were safely crossing over. At least in this form, he could sense things quicker and be able to react more defensively.

His form was of a normal man, but little changes happened in the hair, eyes and his muscle tone. Fangs would be more apparent, their tips gently dipping into a curve. His face might look like a cross between man and some unnatural creature, so he was unsure of how she'd react to his new appearance.

Entering the tent, he immediately noticed her body position and expression. Something more had happened here- there must have been more than one, to secure a hold like this. He had put up his ward, so it had to of been some creature more powerful than a demon.

He didn't have time to ask her what she thought of his new form, he was too busy taking care of her wound. She would be in pain, but they would have to continue without sleep. It had been a mistake to camp here, exposed to everything.

“What are you hiding from me...I suggest you tell me. You don't want to make me an enemy, Igraine.” His voice would grate against the unnatural, almost tainted with a hint of anger. If shock would get her to speak, then that was what he needed. Someone was after her and the cut was definitely a warning sign that they would be back for her.

His nostrils flared, his senses going wild from the scent of death cocooning her frail form.

[Igraine]

The noises of men in her tent, searching for clues and patrolling double time outside looking for the culprits that would never show themselves...it was all a distant hollow hum in the back of her mind. She had her eyes fixated on the tear in the tent where the knife had made a single long slash after cutting her. If she focused hard enough she could see a little of her own blood on the tent.

It was Thorin growling in her ear that finally shook her out of her reverie. She was startled to find her hurt hand in both of his. He was furiously trying to staunch the bloodflow which she thought would be hard for him as a demon. His voice was insistent but she hadn't really caught anything that he'd said. She looked into his eyes with her own emerald green eyes. They looked perfectly calm, but people in shock usually didn't have too much emotion.

"He wants me. The King of the Dark Fae. I don't know why he wants me, but the Banshee promised they would be back for me if I wasn't careful." Woodenly Igraine looked away from Thorin, not realizing she had answered his question. Her gaze settled on the tear in the tent again, the escape route used by those few members of the Unseelie Court.

"I think the blade was coated in a poison to keep my blood flowing. It tingles. They knew better than to use anything dark on me because of my mother's angelic blood in my veins." Igraine's expression turned hard. Perhaps they knew more about her than she realized. If the red eyed man that had weilded the knife knew exactly how much poison to use to bleed her and not kill her when he cut her...

This was not a good development.

"We have to go. We have to get out of here. It's past midnight but they'll be back at three if we're not out of this between area." By now Arthur was kneeling next to her checking the bruises on her neck and her free wrist. He nodded grimly as she spoke and looked at Thorin.

"You can see better in this darkness. Can you guide us to the sea village that is four hours from here? If we get to the town after three we can get on the ship, if not we'll have to wait it out. I can't let her be taken."

It wasn't an oversight on Arthur's point for camping here -- it was simply the fact that none of the men present had ever seen an Unseelie Court member. Then again, none of them had been with Kahlan for very long before she left to the Faerie realm. She was equipped to kill any Unseelie that came her way, and so it was rare at best to have such an attack anymore. Especially on royalty.

"We have to go." Igraine looked up at Thorin and searched his eyes. She wasn't entirely sure she could even walk, but she could ride. She wouldn't let a blood weakness get to her and leave herself vulnerable for the return of her captors.

[Thorin]

Thorin listened to her pleas, but they were drowned out by the sounds of the forest. He was listening for any sudden movement, that might have been shrouded previously. He turned to her, his pupils drowned in a red hue. Looking toward Arthur, he nodded in acknowledgment, sensing the nerves in the man growing out of control. They had only seen his form once, but it was only for a brief moment.

Without a word, Thorin took the blade he had gifted to Igraine. Slicing his hand, he let himself bleed into a nearby vial, that contained the Kitsune blood. The colors mixed, mirroring the colors of a phoenix plume.

“Drink...if you do not drink, you will be buried in the morning and my journey with you will end.” Thorin presented her with the vial, thankful that another man was with them. If she refused, at least Arthur could use voice of reason.

Unlike his father, Thorin was a no-nonsense man. He did not take situations lightly, since they held their lives at a delicate balance. The banshee could be dangerous, even for him. He didn't know anything about Unseelie, or this business of someone wanting her for his own.

If Igriane drank the blood, she would be forever tied to him, but he would reveal that after the damage had been done. Her mother might thank him, since her daughter would no longer be in danger of the man seeking her. While they were dealing with unnatural creatures, there were certain bonds that could not be broken.

“I will scout ahead, after you finish.” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “I will stay behind and hidden from the village, until you can convince them I am not dangerous. My form will not disappear, until we are safely on the other side.”

Staying in this form might weaken him, but he didn't have a choice. While they had men and weapons, they were not accustomed to his realm.

[Igraine]

Igraine paled a little more, if that was at all possible, as she watched Thorin bleed himself into the vial. It wasn't much blood but she swore that runes on the blade he used glowed an incandescent red. Igraine blinked as her vision swam and she looked down at her bandaged hand. It was still bleeding and it was making her light headed. Numbly she registered that the shirt she was wearing was ruined with her blood. She picked at it weakly with her other hand and made some small helpless giggling noise.

Arthur accepted the vial of blood from Thorin and placed the vial in Igraine's good hand and closed her fingers around it. His hands were warm as the held her small cold hand. She looked down at the vial of blood and tried to let it go, but Arthur's hands were tight around hers so she couldn't drop it. She wasn't sure why, but the blood scared her. It didn't register in her mind that a demon's blood was unclean to her angel blood. It was like an act of self preservation.

"My lady, you must drink this. The kitsune blood mixed with half demon blood will staunch the blood flow and increase your healing abilities. We'll be picking those stitches out of your hand before we land in Ulster in a week's time." Igraine looked at Arthur with wide eyes, her natural fear being diminished by his calm voice. When he finally raised her hand and the vial to her lips she didn't put up a resistence.

Igraine managed to swallow most of the blood, though she coughed the last bits of the vial out over her chin. She didn't really take much notice when the blood sizzled slightly when it reached her blood soaked shirt. Arthur pulled the empty vial out of her hand and patted her hand softly.

"There's a girl. You did good, better than any angel." He knew her, had been with her for most of his life and hers. Igraine looked into his dark blue eyes and calmed herself. She looked like hell, she could see how pale she was in his eyes, she could see the rich red blood on her shirt and drizzled down her chest.

"I look like a vampire..." she sounded amused and everyone in the tent smiled to hear the old cadence of her voice coming back.

"Thorin..." Arthur let Igraine lean back against some of her bags that had been packed. "Do you think you could carry Igraine for some of the way? I don't think she can sit up on a horse and we don't have any time to make a litter to carry her. I don't think she would sit in it anyway, she's stubborn like her mother." Arthur looked over his shoulder at Igraine, who was picking at her bloody shirt weakly, obviously wanting to change but having no time for it.

"I'm afraid she'll get hurt worse. If you need to keep your arms free for any potential battle I understand. I can carry her on my horse with me, but I would feel much more at ease if she was with someone that can hear and see where I cannot." Arthur looked haggard as he ran a hand over his face. He leveled his dark blue eyes on Thorin and spoke, his lips in a hard line. "I can't lose her, Thorin. She's more valuable to Ulster than anyone really understands."

[Thorin]

Thorin smirked at Arthur, snapping his cut hand back. He would be weak, but not as weak as the Fae. These men coddled her too much and he began to pity her. Shaking his head, he disagreed with Arthur's request. Normally a patient man, he was beginning to lose it quickly- thankfully, he would be able to walk a little anger off.

“She will walk with the men. If I am to clear a path for you, I cannot be burdened. She will have the strength of a female demon, within the hour. Her angelic blood will help the healing process.” In other words, she would no longer have pure blood, but be a mix- not something favored in either realm.

He looked toward Igraine, taking the blade and sheathing it against his belt. “Because your blood is tainted, this blade will never call to you, but since you drank some of mine, you are bound to me.” Sighing, he watched their faces morph into confusion. “The Unseelie King will come to me, when he sees what I've done to you. At least it will give you time to protect your princess.” He finished, turning to Arthur. “Stop treating her as if she were infantile. She has to fight her own battles, if she's ever going to be a Queen.” Shaking his head, he left them to wonder about his words. If they were going to make this girl their future Queen, she would have to grow up first, before she took a crown of such responsibility. He had never seen such a weak woman before and actually felt sorry for her existence. The other men in her party treated her like nurses, defending her every move and say in important matters.

Moving on ahead, he began to step foot onto familiar pathways, clearing most of the way for them. He wondered how she would take his words- to the heart, or to the mind and learn from his own advice. He had to grow up in his own realm, without a hand to guide him.

[Igraine]

Igraine had no clue what was being asked of Thorin. She was amused when Thorin spoke to her of taints and bonds. She rose to her feet shaking off the men that came to help her.

"I'm fine. The shock is wearing off." She watched Thorin carefully, with that eerie quiet grace that was her trademark. She looked like a mess, but underneath all of that gore was a Queen.

"Do not speak of me as if I am absent." Arthur bowed smartly, chastised into embarassment. Her eyes settled on Thorin and she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Do not speak of me as if I were not already Queen."

Igraine turned her back on the men and began stuffing some books that had been dumped off a table near the cot she had been sleeping on. She carefully dusted off the books to make sure they weren't damaged or irreparable before stuffing them into the bag. The one she was packing was the last one to be loaded on the last pack horse. She carried it out of the tent and handed it to Aiden, who bowed wordlessly and took the bag.

She motioned to Arthur as she stared at her tent. "Give me a change of your clothes, I can't be wandering around smelling of blood in these woods. We could attract more demons or even Vampires, though I don't think a Coven lives this far south and so close to the desert." Arthur trotted off wordlessly and returned a few minutes later with a change of pants and a shirt. Igraine took the clothes and stepped back inside the ransacked tent. She didn't hesitate while changing and took some water from a canteen and washed the blood off her hands, including the bandaged one. It stung but she didn't make a sound, though she did make a face. No one would be able to see it.

As she walked back outside she pointed at the fire "Burn the tents. I won't have our trail so easily found. I won't have my blood so easily obtained either." Igraine tossed her bloodied clothes back inside the tent and walked over to her horse. She mounted without assistance though it made her light headed. Thorin's words had goaded her into a simmering anger, though she looked serene. She lingered only to watch the tent go up in flames and her men to mount their own horses before raising the call to ride.

She was at the head of the small force of men, and she felt somewhat nauseated as the demon blood warred against her angelic blood, but she kept her horse. She caught glimpses of Thorin as he scouted but she kept her face resolute. It wasn't until she could hear the roar of waves that she called a halt and slid exhausted from her horse.

"Arthur, Aiden, go warn the town of our arrival. There won't be very many people awake so early, luckily. It will be easy to keep the panic to a minimum with Thorin arrives. I will stay with him while the men load the bags and horses on the ship. Bring Cuchulain with the rest of the horses." Igraine handed her reins to Arthur. "He knows you and won't bite you. I will walk with Thorin when the call is raised."

Arthur nodded his consent without speaking and brought Aiden with him to warn the village of the important traveler and her half demon acquaintance. It wasn't long before the other men followed Aiden and Arthur. Igraine stood with her back to Thorin, not speaking, watching the men quietly. Thorin was her charge, thus her responsibility, and she would vouch for him if he was questioned.

Igraine pushed her fingers through her wind swept hair. She pulled her wild hair back from her face, quickly braiding it to make herself look more presentable. She pulled the skin of water she had from her belt and washed her hands and face, taking a sip of the water before handing the skin to Thorin without speaking to him. She hadn't said a word to him since they left the tent, though she had plenty of chances.

She stretched her arms and legs carefully before looking down at the small town and waiting for the call from the men that everything was good. While she waited she unwound the bandage that Thorin had wrapped her hand in and flexed her hand, wiggling her fingers. The wound had stopped bleeding, it was an ugly bruise across her palm with a few stitches holding together a wound that looked several days old, though it only happened four hours ago. It would heal before they docked in Ulster for certain, and most likely without a scar.

"It won't be long now." Igraine spoke quietly, though Thorin would hear her. It was uncertain as to whether she was speaking to Thorin or in general. She had yet to even look at him for much longer than it took to glance past him.

[Thorin]

The path would be made up of fallen trees and random brush along the side. He didn't doubt that the village heard the disturbance, so he kept his distance, while the other men negotiated. It was almost dawn, which meant that Igraines illness would soon be over. Her fury could be felt, mostly by her intimidating stance near him. It didn't make him cautious of her, but it did raise a question as to how long she had been keeping that emotion hidden.

“They don't let you out much, do they?” He asked, noting that her quick temper might be a problem. He was normally calm and collected, but their poor choices had taken his nerves to a new level. “You'll get used to your strength and enhanced abilities. Didn't it surprise you, that you can hear everything they're saying from this distance?” Thorin asked, wondering if she had been aware of the change. He continued to stand near a fallen tree, making any witness question that such a feat was possible.

He stood by her, noting the bruised area and only momentarily shrugging it off. “You'll heal quickly. I've been through worse and lived.” When his arm moved, some of the fabric revealed scars. She'd never know if he purposely exposed his past, or not.

Thorin whispered, making sure that she was the only one receiving the information. “If you try to break our bond, by having your men kill me, you will begin a war with demons. I'd take the bond as a sign of a great alliance.”

[Igraine]

Igraine laughed and looked at Thorin finally. He was standing close to her in order to relay his double edged threat. She turned to him and put her hurt hand on his chest.

"Has it occurred to you that I had abilities before you graced me with your blood? Did you, for one second, consider that I might have been capable of extraordinary feats?" Her hand curled in his shirt for a moment before letting go and curling into a fist. She almost glowed with her anger, it seemed as if the very forest around her got quieter with anticipation -- not a single bird that had been chirping moments before uttered a shrill note.

"Do not think to threaten me with your words, Thorin Xanathi. You are going to be on MY territory and in MY realms. Your powers and your alliances will serve you poorly where I bring you." Igraine took a few calming breaths and turned away from Thorin.

"Never think to belittle me in front of my men. They mean well and I humor them, but my mother did not raise a fool. Last night was a fluke. My men would never intentionally put me in harms way." Igraine uncurled her hand and looked at her palm. It was agitated and cracked a little at the edges, bleeding only briefly before stopping. It stung but otherwise it wasn't much of a nuisance.

"There are other ways to rid yourself of a blood taint. I don't have to kill you to break this bond we have between us." Igraine knew exactly where Thorin was, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest. It was like she was hyper aware of what he was doing at all times. She was also aware that through this bond he was bound to her protection, no matter how much he goaded her into action.

"This trip was supposed to be simple." She spoke to no one in particular as the forest slowly came back to life around them, birds chirping and small unseen animals scurrying from one place to the next. She heard the signal loud and clear when it was sounded moments later. She gathered her cloak around herself and raised her chin to show off her proud Ulsterian features. She was Kahlan's daughter and there was a reputation that preceeded her in this country.

"Let's go. Fall in step with me, don't fall behind and do not rush ahead. I am a Queen and you are a Prince. I won't have you disrupt the image that I have to project on these people in order to ensure your safety while you look like..." Igraine waved her hands to encompass Thorin's current physical distortion "...a thing of legend."

Igraine headed out of the woods and walked quickly through the town expecting Thorin to follow her orders whether he liked it or not. There would be several men standing around watching the pair, getting ready for work. Most were fishermen though there were several that were busy making nets or putting boats together. They all stopped to stare at the beautiful Queen of Ulster and the strange creature near her. Only the leader of the town was aware that Thorin was a demon protecting the Queen.

No matter who looked on all of them had a strange respect for the slender Queen with wheat blonde hair that had the unusual man at her side.

When Igraine reached the boat she shook hands with the town's leader, thanked him for his discretion, and made certain that a bag of gold was put toward the town's best interests.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Igraine said as she boarded the ship and headed straight for her quarters, which were the captain's quarters at the back of the ship.

[Thorin]

Thorin listened to her rant, her anger consuming her senses. Igraine pushed on ahead, acknowledging the fear in the town. He mocked her steps, feeling the hatred fall on his every step. For a moment, Thorin thought he heard the fearful tears of a woman in the crowd, but decided not to think about that possibility. His stance changed, while he felt his nerves coil up under his darkened skin. He quietly watched the exchange between Igraine and the town leader, noting that humans would never change their greed.

Their safety was being made by gold, not by her confidence and intimidation alone. When he walked in quiet pace with hers, he thought he felt the accusing eyes of her men on him. Thorin was quickly feeling like the outcast, and moving through a human village didn't help the situation. He could feel women of the village, attempt to put a curse on his existence. Thorin felt some amusement by that fact alone.

He whispered to Igraine, knowing that she couldn't create a scene. “Do you always push gold to get your way, Princess? I thought you had the influence of a Queen?”

His voice grated, knocking over a woman who held some symbolic sign in his view. While the woman scrambled to find her footing, he crushed the trinket in his hands. Before the towns people could create a riot, they would be boarding the ship. Thorin had never been away at sea, so his steps were not as sure as they were on the ground. He paced nervously, glancing toward the swirling depths, as he tried to calm his mind.

[Igraine]

Igraine ignored Thorin entirely throughout the exchange. His whispered words fell on seemingly deaf ears as she exchanged pleasantries before boarding the ship. Once they were on the ship, and the men had scattered to the hold to get some well needed rest, only then did she turn and look at Thorin. He looked like a caged animal pacing back and forth at the rails.

"The gold was to help with the rebuilding of part of the town. There was a typhoon during the summer months and the lack of leadership in Xexoria means they have no one to look to for help. I had promised the councilman a bag of gold upon my return, before I ever met you. There is no need to pay mortal men gold for my safety."

Igraine stalked toward Thorin and grabbed him by the arm, spinning him around with steely strength. It was a side of her that Thorin could probably live a lifetime without seeing.

"I asked you to resist belittling me. Now I demand that you refrain from speaking to me as anything else other than the High Queen of Ulster. It won't be my men that kill you if you forget to speak to me in such a manner." Igraine was livid. Her skin practically crackled with power and her emerald eyes glowed. It wasn't his demon blood either that was encouraging this reaction, it was her own Fae power.

"If you insist on pissing me off any further I'll have to see how well a demon can swim." Igraine pulled Thorin hard against her. He would feel all of her tiny bones, all of her thin slender features, and the ribbon of steel that ran up her backbone. She was startling strong for a woman so slight compared to Thorin. "Are we clear?"

Igraine let Thorin go. He was on his own two feet so he wouldn't fall or probably even stumble. As Igraine walked away she opened the door to her cabin and slammed it, the sound echoing over the ship.

"What the hell did you say to her to piss her off?" Aiden was leaning against the main mast, having watched the entire exchange. "I've never seen her feathers ruffled at all. You seem to have gotten under her skin in a day."

[Thorin]

Thorin could care less about the rebuilding of a human village. After his treatment, he would have gladly helped cleanse the village with his own hands. "I wasn't aware that there had been a coronation, Princess." He proved his own stance and intimidation, by walking toward her own men.

The men glared, immediately showing their disapproval toward Thorin. When she had let go of his arm, he was pleased to find that she was not as weak as they had claimed. "You can attack a grown demon, I would say you are completely healed." He chuckled, only feeling threatened by the crashing waves against the ship.

When she asked if he understood her meaning, he smirked. "I've been in solitude most of my life. I don't need the company of a woman to keep myself entertained." He paused, his voice without humor. He hadn't noticed Aiden, until he made himself known. It would be the first time that his senses had been clouded, without being aware of his surroundings.

"Women are complicated creatures. Their emotions are just as dangerous and unpredictable as the sea." He paused, analyzing his own thoughts. "Though, if it were me, I'd rather drown, then see her true anger."

[Igraine]

She tried to block Thorin out, Igraine really did. She paced back and forth in her spacious cabin. Royalty always ended up in the Captain's quarters, she didn't really care to know the why or the how of it, they usually just gave up their quarters to her. It was a bit snobbish of her to expect that, but then not every day did a Queen board a boat not of her own fleet.

"That...stupid demon. He thinks he can just...UGH...!" Igraine flung her hands in the air. She could feel him though their bond. She wished that he hadn't done this to her, binding her to him. Igraine understood why he had done it, to try to get her scent off the radar of the Unseelie King, but it wouldn't stop him. He would come to Thorin, perhaps, and size him up surely. A little demon taint would be admirable in her, making her seem as if she were getting ready for her stay with the Unseelie Court.

With a heavy sigh Igraine walked over to the tub on the far side of the room. It was an ingenious piece of work, truely. The tub was connected by pipes to the sea under the ship. When one turned on the faucet it cause some sort of suction to occur and the water would start flowing. She wasn't sure of the particulars but she believed that the pressure on the water kept some in holding by the fire used to cook the food on the ship. It took some small amount of time for the water to get hot, but it did without fail.

She slipped out of her clothes, not bothering to lock the door because she didn't think anyone would really bother her, and slipped into the tub with her back to the door. She quickly washed her hair but lingered with her head against the tub, soaking in the warmth of the water and watching the blood that was caked to her chest and stomach swirl away, turning the water from clear to an opaque pink.

Igraine looked at her hand, feeling the tightness across her palm from the stitches. Without thinking she reached for a knife nearby and started to cut out the stitches. It felt weird tugging on the stitches, but her hand was healing fast enough that she wouldn't need them. She sucked in her breath because it stung to pull the thread through some of the stitched areas but she managed to get it all out. A small pile of thread ended up on the floor next to her dirty clothes, her clean clothes were set in a neat pile on a chair next to the tub.

Igraine washed her hand furiously for a minute or two, oblivious even to her bond with Thorin -- though he would probably be able to sense a different sort of frustration and helplessness from her now.

[Thorin]

Thorin could feel the tension between himself and Igraine. The sudden pain increased, mainly in his hand. He only learned of the bond experience, from lore, but hadn't actually tried the ritual until now. He didn't like the idea of sharing emotions. Thorin grumbled, flexing his hand back and forth, noting that Aiden was probably aware of the darkened mood that plagued Thorin.

Deciding to preserve what energy he had left, he decided to let his form morph into a more comfortable human-like image. Because he was half demon, he wouldn't always be able to hold the previous form with such authority. Maybe her attitude had spawned out of fear for what he was- Thorin wouldn't doubt that theory for a second.

Leaving Aiden, he bowed simply and started to where Igraine had confined herself. He looked toward the doorknob, for once, fearing an inanimate object. When he felt the pain spike in his hand again, he immediately opened the door and forced himself inside.

His eyes had been focused forward, not realizing that she had slipped out of her clothe and he was standing only a few feet from their discarded pile. When he saw her in the bathtub, his face turned an unnatural shade of red.

“Well, since you're comfortable, we need to talk...” He stood near the tub, uncomfortably trying to focus on something else in the room, instead of her silhouette. He hadn't been with a woman in eons and just controlling himself was consuming all of his energy. How did she stay so pure around the other men? He thought casually to himself, not thinking for once, that she might catch his train of thought.

Realizing that the other men might think of her in distress, he began to curse himself for coming in here to begin with. Their princess was in a bathtub, with a demon looming over her- no matter how you looked at the situation, nothing positive would come out of it.

[Igraine]

"Thorin!" Igraine spluttered and ducked deeper into the murky reddish pink bath water. The soap had done a decent job of mucking up the water so he couldn't see anything, but she was so startled that she immediately tried to cover herself. She yanked a towel down and covered herself from her chest down. the soaked towel floated in the water with her clinging to it to keep her modesty.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?" She looked up at Thorin and let out a laugh. He was uncomfortable! He obviously hadn't realized she was bathing and it forced him out of his element. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. It's just that I thought you would be as aware of what I'm doing as I have been of what you're doing. This blood bond is so strange. I can feel your heartbeat on my skin with you this close." She said the last bit with a bit of awe tainting her voice.

"What is it that we need to discuss?" Igraine shifted so that she was sitting forward, her hair was plastered around her neck and shoulders, and she kept a firm grasp on the towel around her chest. She almost looked like a mermaid sitting nonchalantly. "I can't say that I've held court while in the bath, but I've heard it's refreshing."

Igraine chuckled again and looked to the stack of towels nearby. "If you would turn your back I will get out of the bath." She made sure he was not looking at her before she got up out of the tub. She caught herself when she almost slipped and hurriedly wrapped herself in a big towel. Her clothes were by Thorin so they would have to wait for the time being. She grabbed her brush from the table near the towels and sat on the stool, beginning to brush her wet wheat blonde hair out methodically.

"What is on your mind? I can't read your mind, though I think I'm quite glad that I can't." Igraine stopped brushing her hair and looked at Thorin through the mirror before her. "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I am not used to being challenged on my status as Queen. I was coronated three years ago shortly before my mother retired to the Faery realm. She trusts me as I trust my men. They mean well, so it irks me to have my faith in them questioned. I have been sheltered in some ways. I haven't been through war, though I have seen the damage it can cause. My mother taught me many things, but she didn't teach me how to behave around a half demon." She laughed and looked at Thorin again, turning to face him.

"So, what is the matter?"

[Thorin]

Thorin turned around and locked the door. At least he obeyed her with part of the request, but he knew she hadn't been counting on being held against her will. When she talked, he hardly paid attention to the depth of her words. Igraine would hear the gentle click of the lock and his swift movement against her.

The towel was soon lost, somewhere amongst the pile of clothes she had mentioned. Even though she expected him to explain his actions, or at least acknowledge her words, they would only be met with passionate kisses and caresses.

The tension between them faded, but the desire was even more overwhelming, especially for Thorin. He was lost in her scent, the sound of her breath. When their bodies weaved together for the first time, he wondered if she was the one dominating.

Feeling her fear rise, he began to hold her tenderly, not wanting the moment to be ruined by a stray guard hearing the distress from their princess. If Igraine let him have his way, then she would experience him completely, without restraint. Their hearts appeared to be like one, but they were more like Master and underling.

Thorin had wanted her since he had set eyes on her, but it was without his knowledge until now. The passion had overcome his senses and now he found himself laying with her on the floor. Their noises would be curious, enough for anyone to investigate, but if luck was on his side, they would be occupied with other matters. When she struggled, his grip on her only tightened. His gaze was one of passion, not of an enraged man.