Hobbit 1. Chapter 1

**A/N#1: This is a companion piece to "Fairytales From Under the Mountain" Chapter 5 _Little Red Riding Hood_. **

**A/N#2: This story might be a launch for a whole universe, as a couple of my lovely collaborators expressed a desire to borrow this world for their dalliances. I'll keep you posted, ****my dear readers****. But if Kili happens to be a wolfkin in this story, who do you think will be a perfect author for his side of the story? ;)**

**A/N#3: ****Small Disclaimer****: I know the whole wolf thing has been done and redone hundreds of times, and I'm aware of the omegaverse idea (though I haven't read much of such stories), and I'm not claiming originality or any profound ideas in this story. I'm just having fun and hope you will too, ****my darlings****! :)**

CAN YOU KEEP THE WOLVES AT BAY?

His lips were warm, his breath fresh, slightly smelling of the wine they both drank, and she trailed the tip of her tongue on the downside of his upper lip. She heard her belt click, and his hot palms slid under her chainmail and her tunic, his long fingers almost locking around her waist. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and heard him groan quietly.

"More libidinous than normal men, you said?" She chuckled into the kiss, and her tongue brushed over his. He opened his eyes and smiled. He pushed his hands into her hair now and pulled her head back, looking attentively into her face. The amber eyes grew clouded, her red lips slightly open, and he cocked a brow sardonically.

"Will I wake up with a hunter's knife between my shoulder blades after this, huntress?"

She leaned closer and whispers into his lips, "Depends on your performance, wolf." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I'm old, Wren of Leary, do not expect anything majestic." They laughed together, and suddenly she picked up a strand of his hair and twirled it around her finger.

"How old?" He understood the meaning and brushed his lips on her jaw.

"I wasn't here during the Big Hunt twelve years ago, but I lost my brother and grandfather." She stroked his cheek with the tips of her fingers. He saw sympathy in her eyes, and with gratitude he pressed his lips to her cheekbone. She tilted her head, and he placed a kiss on her jaw, and then another one lower, with a strange familiarity, on the pulse beating on her neck. There his mouth stayed, and he listened to her heart pumping the blood through her veins. Some other sound seemed to permeate his hearing, and he slid his mouth lower, his finger hooked at the collar of her soft tunic. He pulled and felt her smooth cool skin on his lips. He swirled his tongue on it, enjoying the silkiness and the faint smell of lilacs, when she softly exhaled, her hands returning the favour. The pulps of her delicate fingers drew patterns on the skin of his nape. He picked up the chainmail and pulled it off her. He shortly thought she was too trustful towards his kind, or any man for that matter, and then he forgot the thought, as her palm snaked under his brigandine and tunic and lay on his stomach. He was ignoring the strange resonating hum in his head, savouring the taste of her now uncovered collarbones.

"Take off your armour, wolf," her voice was raspy, and he gladly complied. He considered taking off the legwear as well, the cuisses would be uncomfortable for her, and then he felt her fingers working deftly at the clasps. Since he released her neck, she took charge and gently nipped at his ear. He growled. Her teeth were now on his neck, and she bit carefully, but it was sensitive. He jerked his head and looked at her attentively. And then the noise he had been brushing off this whole time finally reached his hazy mind. It was the sound of her blood rushing. He tensed. The wolf would hear it when hunting, but he was not shifted and she was no deer. To chase it away he cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. She readily arched into him, opened her mouth for him and grabbed handfuls of his hair. He twisted his body and toppled her on the ground, weighing on her. Her skin tasted of woods, and smoke, and fallen leaves.

"What is your name, wolf?" He lifted his face. Her eyes were smiling.

"Darius," he leaned in and picked up the string of her tunic's lacing with his teeth. He pulled, and she giggled. He didn't know huntresses giggled.

"Ten years, huh?" Her tone was mischievous, "You're still good with your teeth, as I can see." He chuckled and slid down. He pushed her shirt up and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her stomach. She was taut and warm even to his wolf senses, and he heard her gasp softly. And then a painful shudder ran through his body, and he jerked away from her. His fingers curled sharply on the ground, nails dug into the fallen leaves and dirt, and he dropped his head. He momentarily wondered if that was some sort of human illness befalling him. He knew wolves were immune, but that was odd. He surely couldn't have been shifting, he had learnt to control the beast more than two decades ago.

But all the signs were there, the excruciating pain in every muscle, blurred vision, ringing in his ears. He groaned and pushed away from her further. He rolled away, on his stomach again, and tried to get up. Another shudder quaked his body, and he snarled. He tried to see his hands, he was supporting himself on one elbow and a straight arm, but all he saw were the veins bulging on them, no changes. It felt like changing though, now that he finally heard the inner din. It was the same drunkenness, the sudden desire to let go, to relinquish inhibitions. His jaws clenched in the sweet anticipation, and then he cursed silently. He couldn't let it happen. He remembered of the woman a step away from him. He shook his head, his spine twisting and aching, and looked at her. He expected either terror in her eyes or her father's sword clenched in her hand. He saw neither. She was still on the ground, her shirt bunched up, leaning back on her elbows, and his sharpening, mid-shifting vision grasped the pale skin of the stomach, the hip bones, he apparently had loosened the belt and pulled her trousers down, her peaks puckered under the shirt, and then his nose caught the smell of her arousal. He growled loudly, and then suddenly she laughed.

"You have mentioned you are old, you never said you were getting senile, wolf." Had he not been fighting a wolf and losing, he wouldn't have heard the trembling of the voice she was hiding underneath the sarcasm. "Stop fighting it."

"No," he sneered through his teeth. He felt disoriented. He couldn't gather where it came from. More so, he couldn't understand why she wasn't running. "I'll hurt you… It's strange… I'm not controlling it…"

"Of course you aren't," her voice was suddenly soft, she shifted, he couldn't see, and her small strong palm cupped his face. He wondered if the teeth were already longer, and recoiled from the thought of sinking them into her hand. "Darius, look at me," he lifted his burning eyes at her and met her soft warm look. "Stop fighting it, Darius. You are not shifting, you are mating." His whole body jolted, and he fell his face down into damp leaves.

Her arms pushed under his shoulders, and she rolled him on his back. His back arched, another painful wave ran through him, and he felt her fingers run on his face. She was making comforting noises, and he let go. Images flashed before his eyes, some sensual and graphic, some vague and warm, explosions of sparks, sensations, he gasped and took a giant gulp of air. Smells, tastes, tingling in the tips of his fingers, and then all over his skin, and then heat, he felt his body and mind change and transform, but for once it had nothing to do with the animal inside. He screamed, not from pain, but from the piercing sensation of being finally alive. His heart beating painfully in his throat, he thrashed on the ground, his short nails scraping at it, he felt her gently but firmly holding him, and then his body slacked, and his eyes closed.

The world slowly returned, and he took a cautious breath in. The smells seemed more intense, and he realized he was trying to catch her fragrance in the air. He didn't need to look far, she was lying on him, her backside on the ground, but her upper torso on him. She had a hand under her cheek, over his heart, and her other hand was stroking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked at the starry sky. It seemed too colourful, somewhat resembling the feeling of just a bit too much ale, but more intense. He lifted his hand and put it on her back, between her shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry," her voice was tender, "That looked very painful." Her hand slipped from his shoulder, and she brushed it on his throat. "Are you alright?" The question was so absurd that he guffawed. She lifted her head, and their eyes finally met. He thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. And then immediately hunger rose. He ground his teeth, to eject the clear image of ripping off her shirt from his mind, but it only led to him imagining doing it with his teeth. And then he envisioned sinking the said teeth into his backside. Even before it all started he couldn't help but notice the perky round buttocks.

"So you are a butt man?" Her tone was impish, and he froze. She tapped her index finger on the tip of his nose. "The mind link, remember? For the first few hours, and all through life during mating, if it's done right, of course."

Two thoughts rushed through his mind. Even ignoring the irony of being mated to a huntress, he couldn't help but wonder in what universe that was a good match, and why she seemed content about it.

She suddenly straddled him, and leaning low she purred in his ear, "No one chooses their Half, and you are not the worst of them there," her lips brushed his ear, and he shivered. He had very little control left and wanted to tell her that, but then remembered that she knew. "I don't need your control, darling. I'm all yours." Her voice dropped, and he gnarled and threw her off him. She landed on the ground with an oomph, only to laugh throatily from the view of his tearing his armour in jerky uncoordinated movements.

"Get undressed..." His voice hardly submitted to him, but he saw her pull at the strings on her trousers. He closed his eyes, any more skin visible and he'd jump at her, probably biting and scratching her. His tunic, boots, trousers flew on the ground, followed by undergarments, and then, before he opened his eyes her absolutely naked body suddenly pressed into him. He gasped and opened his eyes. She was stretched on him, wrapped around him, cool, supple, lithe, refreshing and intoxicating, like water in a spring, like the wind in the branches during his first shift, like the first gulp of air on a frosty morning. Her copper curls ran between his fingers, amber eyes loving and brilliant in front of him, and he took a deep breath in, inhaling her, hearing her blood and welcoming her smell. The world halted around, and in the perfect harmony of his new life he smiled to her tenderly and kissed her red lips.

The hunger was gone, replaced by longing, and she whispered, "Yes, Darius, yes..." He rolled her underneath him, her legs locking around his hips as if in the thousandth time, and he slid into her. Both of them closed their eyes, immobile and elated, and then he peeked, cheating, and licked across her lips. She giggled and rubbed her calf to his backside. "Don't get me wrong, that feels wonderful, but do you mind moving already, love?" He shortly thought that she indeed wasn't a good match for him. She was the perfect one. He experimentally rolled his hips into her, making her gasp, and immediately her arms tightened on his neck. He rose on his elbows, his palms under her shoulder blades, something in the delicate bone structure and pale skin mesmerizing him, or perhaps he was just protecting her back from the pine cones and needles on the ground, and she moaned. That was a new sound, open and vulnerable, her snark gone, and he saw her pupils dilate and her lips open slightly. "Darius..."

"Mine..." He murmured back and pushed into her deeper. Her teeth sank in her bottom lip, and he felt her pelvis answer to his thrust. He moved again, she lifted her hips off the ground, trying to take him in deeper, and he closed his eyes in the perfect pleasure. Small and tight, she felt welcoming, accepting, she felt like home, and he moaned loudly. He was rolling into her, harder and deeper with each time, and soon he realized their intertwined bodies were rising off the ground with each of his thrusts, they were shifting, and she punctuated each of his moves with a loud cry. Her face was distant, absorbed in the passion, and he rasped, "Wren, look at me..." He needed her eyes, her heart, her soul at that very moment, and her lashes flew up. She met his eyes and smiled.

"Love..." She breathed out, and he buried his face into her neck, hiding the tears, his hips rocking into her again and again, her soft moans in the forest air, one of her hands at the back of his head, firm and caressing, another one pressed to his skin on his middle, and he shattered. He sobbed, his voice mixing with her triumphant cry, and then he sank even deeper into her. His arms couldn't hold him anymore, and he collapsed onto her. She purred, her slender arms finding their way around his middle, and he exhaled loudly. He tried not to pant, but unsuccessfully, and then he chuckled shakily.

"What?" Her voice was cordial, and he rose on his elbows to look into her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy, eyes shiny, and he gazed at her with pleasure. She was adorable, with a slightly smug expression, curls scattered on the ground, one strand stuck to her sweaty temple, red lips twitching in a small smile.

"I want to take a bath with you. And love you on sheets. Proper sheets, and wine and cheese… We need wine and cheese..." He was blabbering, and he didn't care. He grinned to her widely, and she sniggered.

"Oh, now you want to be a gentleman." He cocked a brow, and she leered at him. "I will indeed need a bath. And perhaps a backrub. I have sensitive skin, and I think we just had a threesome with a pinecone." He snorted and quickly kissed her.

"I have to wait till morning and look after my nephews, but after that..." He was going to paint some other pleasant plans for her, when he remembered what exactly he and his nephews were doing in the forest. He choked on his words and saw her face grow serious. He clenched his teeth. He didn't want it to end, he wasn't done. He wanted to talk nonsense to her, make suggestive remarks, ask her when exactly she realized what was happening to him, and then he was certain he would want another time with her. Perhaps two. He threw a look at her shoulders and small breasts, and realized that perhaps three. And before anything he wanted to have a closer look at her peaks, perky and mouth-watering, he didn't even kiss them once. But then he met her eyes and realized that they were to have a completely different conversation now.

"Tell me," her tone was sober, and he sighed. He rolled off, both of them groaning quietly when his member slid out of her, and they started getting dressed. In tunics and trousers, he didn't let her put anything else, he pulled her on his lap, wrapping their cloaks around them. She tucked her feet between his legs for warmth, her head lay on his shoulder, and he embraced her. They sat for a while in silence, simply appreciating how perfectly they fit together, and then he exhaled loudly.

"I didn't want to come here… Innocent or not, wolves are not welcome here, but so it happened..."

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is the continuation of the previous chapter. I have vast plans for these Wren and Thorin/John/Darius (from "darer," the direct translation of the name "Thorin") :D**

**There will be a separate story with two of my collaboration with lots and lots of wolf stuff in it, and this chapter will give you a taste of it.**

"I didn't want to come here… Innocent or not, wolves are not welcome here, but so it happened that we were travelling through the woods, when both my nephews started feeling sick," he looked at her sideways, making sure she understood. The first shift for wolfkin was painful, the day before it they felt weak, nauseated, emotions running rampant, and then the night would come, and the beast burst out of them. It would take years for them to learn to control it. She nodded, her fingers drawing swirls on his chest. It was distracting, and he covered her hand with his. "One of them is older, but they shifted together. We really shouldn't have washed them in the same bath all through these years," she chuckled, and he smiled. "Last night was their Initial Shift, I've never seen anyone throw up so much in the morning." They both chuckled this time.

"Were you all fresh and perky on your first morning?" Her tone was sarcastic, but there was no bite in it.

"I didn't have the first morning. I woke up at noon, hungry as..." He trailed away impishly, and she swatted his chest, and he quickly kissed her ear. "I decided we could stay here. Wolfkin hadn't been seen here for twelve years, villagers would have forgotten. We stayed away from the swamps obviously, your grandmother could probably end us with some spell while finishing her evening cuppa." She nodded absent-mindedly. Grandma Leary, the Blind Witch, lost her hunter son and her daughter-in-law in the Big Hunt. She wouldn't kill an innocent, but uncontrollable diarrhea and complete hair loss spells were among her favourites. "And then a huntress stepped out of the woods..." He pressed his smiling lips to her temple and closed his eyes, inhaling her smell.

"Why were surprised when you mated? Isn't it something they tell you about since you lot are pups?" He considered smacking her round bum for insolence, but restrained himself. They wouldn't talk if he did.

"I'm slightly past my prime, Wren, if you haven't noticed. " She snirtled. "And honestly, a huntress... And a skinny ginger for that matter…" She pushed away from him and gave him a glare. He pressed his lips to contain a smile.

"Not funny, wolf! You try being the ugliest of three girls in the family!" Sincere doubt crawled in her voice, and he gave her an attentive look. He opened his mouth, but she clasped her small hand over his mouth. "No compliments, please. Your opinion doesn't count. I'm your Half, you can never be objective… For you I am a goddess." His brows jumped up. He shook his head to release his mouth from her cool dry palm.

"And that's a bad thing how?" She snorted, and then her face grew serious again.

"No mawkishness. Tell me where you were travelling." He sighed heavily. He still wasn't sure he should be telling her anything. Intellectually he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it from her, they were mates now, but he stubbornly fought the urge to include her. He kept silent and then noticed her giving him a doubtful look from under her brow. He internally cursed, she was a huntress and knew everything about his kind. His inner struggle was as clear as day to her at the moment, and he could bet his best armour she was laughing at him inside.

"No need to look so smug, huntress." She purposefully wiggled her bum on his lap, settling more comfortably. If she was trying to remind him of what had just transpired between them, she succeeded. His satiation had ebbed, and he shifted on the fallen tree they were sitting on. She meanwhile was feigning a polite patient expression as if inviting him to take his time in his futile efforts to fight his nature. He clenched his jaws.

"Your attempts to remain all tough and alpha are adorable," she sing-songed, and that's when he decided a smack was due. The sound was clear and tasty, and her eyes grew twice the normal size. He smirked, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Was that a smart move, wolf? I will land you on your back before you can say _woof_."

"Oh, I am counting on it," he wiggled his brows. He hoped to distract her, but underestimated her stubborness.

"Do you want me to wait till the morning and ask your nephews? If I gather it right, I'm their alpha female now, they won't say no... to anything I ask of them." She drew innocently, and the alpha in him growled. He suppressed the animal's possessiveness. All jesting aside, he indeed wasn't that young, he had years of experience of dealing with the double nature of his kind's emotions. The beast would react first, snarling and raging, the man was slightly more reasonable.

He cocked a brow and gave her a look. She was his mate now, and he hoped he could trust her to be conscious of his kind's peculiarities. Bonded to a human woman or man, wolfkin had to face a lot of vexations. It was hard to find an understanding person. Wolfkin bonded for life, previously he had thought of it as almost slavery. They had no choice, they were weak and defenseless against the ones they loved. They loved with their whole heart, humans could always leave. Darius had seen too many of his kind suffering. He often had felt fortunate having not met his Half for most part of his life. Although, at the moment he would say he had been a massive idiot. She smiled to him softly, leaned in and kissed his neck.

"Tell me everything, please," her tone was soft, and he wrapped his arms around her tighter, "I want to help." Her palm lay over his heart, and she tucked her head under his chin. The gesture was earnest and vulnerable, and he pressed his cheek to the crown of her curly head.

"What do you know of children being given up into the servitude to imps?" She jerked her face up, and he saw she was blanched. "It was before the Hunt, my sister was carrying her younger one. Her husband was coming back from a trip with merchants, he was a sword for hire, but the hunters stopped the merchants on the road, and he didn't pass the blood test… He attacked them first. He died in a ditch by the road, and when Deadre found out, she started bleeding, we thought she wouldn't make it. And that's when the imp came." He clenched his jaw, she was sitting quietly in his arms. "He both saved my sister and ensured that Killiare was born safely. And then he bound Killiare to a seven year service when my nephew were to reach the battle age. He did last month, and we are taking him to the imp."

"Does he know where you are travelling?" She knew the answer, it seemed, and he gravely shook his head.

"We are hoping to offer his brother's or my service instead. He is so young..." He trailed away. He could still hear his sister's howling when the three of them were living the village their kin were dwelling in these days. They had to lock her in a cellar, she shifted, and he could hear her clawing and raging under the heavy wooden door. He and Philippe, the older one, kept quiet, and Killiare didn't dare asking. The boy was exceptionally perceptive, he knew something was going on even before his mother lost her composure, but he would never challenge his uncle's judgement.

"Are you bringing gold to try to pay him off?" He nodded and looked at her attentively. "You do know it won't work?" She rubbed her face with her palms, and then suddenly she started laughing. The laughter was so hollow and desperate, that he cupped her face and made her look into his eyes. She choked on the sound, and the insanity left her eyes. "Do you know what I am doing in the woods?" She suddenly buried her face in his neck, in a trusting, unguarded gesture, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. He realized she was shaking. "I am going to my Grandmother to discuss what to do with my cousin Carys, who is to be shipped from home to serve the equal term as your nephew. She is a healer in training. Her sister, Nerys, my apprentice, is to bring her to my Grandmother to finish her training, and then we are to send her away. She is just a child..." He pulled her head closer, his large palm cupping her jaw under her ear, and she exhaled loudly. "You are making me soft, I need to be angry… " He was silent, shocked by her words. "We are quite a pair, aren't we?" She chuckled, but the sound came out dead.

"How much time does your cousin have?"

"Three moons. She is home with her mother right now. How do they always know?.." She asked seemingly not addressing him.

"Who knows what?"

"The imps. They always know which children will grow up exceptional. I'm sure it's the same with your younger nephew. They somehow manage to pluck the best. Carys is a wonder, she is smart, talented, she is full of light! She has an amazing intuition when it comes to healing physical and emotional pain. People love her, and she is just… pure sunlight. The village was dying, there was a plague, and he came. He needed a payment, a child promised to him for later, we all were small then, just girls… I was eight, but I already understood what was going on. I was hoping he'd take me. But again who would want a skinny, ugly ginger… And…" Her voice broke, but then he saw her clench a fist. Her body grew tense, and he could almost feel her mind work, evaluating and making decisions. And then she exhaled sharply, straightened up and looked in his eyes. "My other cousin, Nerys, we will wait for her at Grandma's. Your imp will not withstand two hunters, and we will take him down and get your nephew out."

"You can't, Wren. He didn't break a contract, he has no crime on him. He is, so to say, not a monster," his tone was bitter, but then he grabbed her head, his hands on the sides of her face, his voice hardly controlled from the fierce love and amusement he felt, "Where have you been all these years, Wren of Leary? And how did I survive without you?" She pushed his hands away, twitching her nose in irritation, and he guffawed. His emotions were understandably in havoc today. She was ready to fight for him, he looked at her in admiration.

"Darius, we can do it. I'm sure we can find a loophole, three blades added into the equation will help." He was still chuckling, admiring her fiery stare and flaming locks.

"Three?"

"Nerys carries two. She is deadly. She once took down two swamp trolls on her own. She was twelve at the time." He whistled in wonder, but then remembered that she was planning to rush in the middle of his fight.

"Wren..."

"Don't argue with me, we are going." He decided that kissing her was the easiest way to stop her. She fought a bit, but it was an obvious pretense. Otherwise, she wouldn't be grinding her pelvis into his, her quick fingers in his mane again. He started pushing her on the ground, when she pressed her palms in his chest and gave him a strict stare, "Promise me we are all going." He wished there were a way to lie to one's mate. "Darius..." Her tone was menacing.

"Yes, Wren." He knew when he was beaten. "We are all going. And after that my nephews and I will help your cousin. Deal?"

"Deal," she conceded, and then in a trained movement she twisted out of his arms, her slender legs went around his waist, and her intentions became quite obvious. He smirked. Luckily, they coincided with his.

He slid from the tree on the ground, on his back, making sure she didn't bump her knees, and she settled on him more comfortably. His palms lay on her buttocks, just as he was craving this whole time, and she chuckled. She pressed her hands into his chest and lowered her lips on his.

"I want to see you all, Wren," he murmured, asking, not demanding, and she jerked off her tunic. His large palms covered her small, pale breasts, and she arched into his touch. "You are so familiar..." For the life of him he didn't know where it came from, but she was. She smiled blissfully and run her fingers over his face, the tips of her fingers grazing the bridge of his nose, her thumb ran on his bottom lip, and she made a soft purring noise. "When did you guess?" He didn't need to explain.

"I didn't, not till the last moment..." She leaned in and gently bit into his beard covered jaw, one of her hands on the ground near his head, the second one opening his trousers. "You started shaking, and I realized I was your mate." She sounded endlessly pleased to say it out loud.

"Then why?..." Her fingers slid down, brushed his hipbone and then wrapped around the base of his member. He took a large, open mouthed gulp of air, and she smirked.

"Are you suddenly finding my morale reproachable, wolf?" She twisted her wrist, her palm and thumb caressing just the right way. "You didn't seem to mind my loose ways before..." He opened the eyes he wasn't aware had been closed, he even forgot where his hands were, she was creating some sort of magic with her deft cool palm. His thumbs stroked her peaks, and then he moved his hands lower, grazing her ribs and making her giggle. He pulled the strings on her trousers, she slightly got up, pulling them off, and then she sank on him, her back arching, a raspy moan on her lips.

"Oh, I will pay for this tomorrow..." She murmured, but he didn't hear. Her hips started moving, and everything disappeared for him, except the tight hot walls of her quim, her soft gasps, and the feeling of absolute balance in the world around him. His hands flew to her buttocks again, cupping them, helping her to move, and he dropped his head back. It felt magnificent to give up control for once, let someone else set the rhythm, give in and give up. His hips had another idea though, his pelvis would buck up to meet her, and suddenly she stopped. His eyes flew open, and he stared at her.

"Down, boy," she smirked, and he snarled at her. "I won't tell anybody you are not the Big Bad Wolf when it's just the two of us." She purred, the corners of her lips twitching. He guffawed again and released her hips. He places his hands on the ground, near his head, and she leaned down to his lips. "That's much better..." She had strong legs, her movement were forceful and rhythmical, and he closed his eyes. There was a logic in the choice of a mate after all, and he pressed the back of his head into the fallen leaves. She would rise over him, and then her hips would plummet down, with an interesting twist, and soon enough the pleasure built up in him. At the same time she started moving faster, her previously impeccable rhythm stuttered, and then she climaxed, bending backwards. The quivering of her inner walls pushed him over the edge, and he groaned. She fell on him, her palms slid from his chest, along his arms, he shifted his arms, and their fingers intertwined. In a strange accordance they moved several more times, each one of them instinctively trying to prolong the pleasure of the other. After the last quakes of their release subsided, she nuzzled his neck.

"For once I'm not going to be cold at night in the woods..." Her voice was slightly sleepy, and he laughed softly. He had to be awake, keeping watch for his nephews, but he liked the idea of her sleeping near him. They got up, fixing their clothes, wrapping in the cloaks, and he started tending to the fire.

She was sitting pressed into his side, and he asked softly, "Are you hungry? There is still venison..." She didn't answer, and he saw she was sleeping. The long lashes lay under her eyes, and he tenderly looked at the freckled nose. In her sleep she looked younger, small hands fisted in an almost childish gesture, and he leaned back on the trunk of the nearest tree, arranging her in his arms. She sniffled in her sleep and buried her nose deeper into his cloak. He sat and listened to the woods and the even beating heart of his beloved.


End file.
