That time when Thorin payed for a wench, while Wren needed a wee bit of wine to get to the point.
Thorin stretched on his bed in a dim inn room, tired muscles in his back finally relaxing. He closed his eyes, wine pleasantly coursing in his blood, when a polite knock at his door announced the man he had spoken to previously had arrived.
"Aye, it's open," Thorin barked from his bed, the man wasn't worth getting up. The visitor entered, slightly bent in a perpetual submissive bow, followed by a small girl.
Thorin hardly glanced at her and then shifted his eyes at the crook. A sordid cloying smile was playing on the visitor's lips, and he pulled the girl after him, his dirty hand firmly grasping her wrist.
"Good evening, my lord. I hope you are enjoying our inn." Thorin sat up on his bed and sneered through clenched teeth.
"How much?" He just wanted the procurer to leave faster.
"The usual price, my lord. And this one is new, she is a bit timid. But then again, so fresh, so innocent," the pander stepped behind the girl and pushed her towards the Dwarf. Thorin finally gave her a look. She was skinny and a redhead. Neither of the features was to his taste, and he assumed she was hardly popular with other clients. She was angular, had no breasts or hips, and judging by her shaking one could hardly expect much skill from her either. Thorin was in a foul mood to start with, the view of the unappealing bird aggravated it.
"I'll pay you a half, or you can take your slip of a girl with you." The crook pretended to be outraged, but agreed rather quickly. Thorin assumed she was indeed unwanted, since in a few minutes later the pander left, coins jingling in his palm.
Thorin got up and locked the door behind him. He turned and looked at the girl. At the first glance she had only one merit, luscious thick mane of copper curls, but Thorin knew that among Men such colour was considered a flaw. He walked around her and stopped looking at her face. Her eyes were widened, terrified, her white teeth were worrying the plump bottom lip. Thorin was momentarily distracted from his vexation by the view of her mouth. It was wide, almost disproportionate, corners of her bright red lips curled up, the upper one curved. Something in her mouth made him suddenly hot under his collar. He snorted in irritated surprise. It had been years since he showed any interest in particular parts of women's anatomy. He customarily just wanted to satisfy his needs quickly and concentrate on more important matters.
"What's your name?" He found it was easier for wenches to loosen and start already when he showed them slight humanity.
"Wren," she croaked, and furious blush spilled on her cheekbones. "My lord..." She hastily added, and suddenly he saw her eyes fill with tears. Her lips that he still couldn't tear his eyes off started trembling. "Forgive me..."
He sighed. He obviously should have sent her back to her pander, but he was tired and again, when he went to close the door he caught a glimpse of her backside. Skinny as she was, she had appetising buttocks, round and pert, and he stepped to her and softly took her hand.
"Come, Wren, sit with me..." She hesitantly stepped after him, and he sat on the bed patting the covers near him. She lowered herself, and he noticed she didn't take her hand away. She had a nice long neck, her skin pale, bright freckles peppering a turn up nose, and altogether after a more attentive look he decided she wasn't that bad. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her to his lips.
He rarely kissed the women he bought, but the procurer was right, there was an air of freshness and innocence about her. She was also very clean, for a inn wench, her hair glossy and clothes poor but laundered. She smelled of lilacs and tasted very sweet. He wrapped another arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. She wasn't moving, but he didn't expect her to. She wasn't fighting either, pliable in his hands, and he turned and toppled her onto the bed.
He lifted his head and gave her a look over. He mentally confirmed that indeed he really liked her neck and greedily pressed his mouth to the pulse frantically beating on the side of her delicate throat. She made a small whimpering sound, her body went rigid, and from the corner of his eyes he saw her fingers clasp around handfuls of sheets.
He grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled up, his fingers grazing her thigh, and she suddenly thrashed and sobbed loudly. He lifted his face and met her eyes. They were rather odd, slanted, of some strange colour, neither brown, nor green, and he saw silent tears running from their corner down to the temples. He felt sharp prickle of irritation and sat up.
"Oh please, no!" She sprang up and rushed to him. She clumsily scampered, and kneeling on the end she moved to him. "I am sorry! Forgive me, my lord!" Her small hands were folded in a pleading gesture, and suddenly she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was intoxicating. Whether her agitation pushed her to perform so well, or she had slightly more experience in these more innocent actions, but her lips moved just the right way and soon he felt her sleek warm tongue brush his lips. He groaned into her mouth and cupped her head. She arched into him, and he felt her puckered tips through his tunic and her thin dress.
"Please, let me stay, I can do better..." She murmured, and suddenly her lips slipped from his onto his cheek, she placed several little bites along his jawline and then caught his earlobe between her lips. Something wasn't right, his mind meddled. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her away from him to have a better look into her face. Her eyes were giant, pupils flooded her strange irises, and he stared at her. She had just made his member swell by a few small caresses of his jaw, quite a feat considering how irritated he was an instant ago, and yet she still seemed frightened and inexperienced. Her eyes were pleading, and he exhaled.
"My lord, it is my third time..." She was fisting her small hands, her cheeks burning, and she dropped her eyes. Her voice was hardly audible, "And I have never lain with a Dwarf." He was studying the orange crown of her head. "Could I please have some wine?"
His brows hiked up. That was quite a forward behaviour for a cheap wench, but then again wine could help her. He moved to get up, but she pressed her hands on his shoulders. "Allow me," she was obviously eager to please, and he nodded. She jumped off the bed and rushed to the table by the window. She poured wine into two glasses, her hands shaking, and she cursed when she spilled some. The curse was so mild and demure that he smiled involuntarily.
She returned with the glasses, and he took his while she toppled hers into her throat hurriedly. He was right, she was trying to alleviate her tension. He took a sip and gave her the glass back. She didn't take it though, staring at his expectedly, and he chuckled. He assumed in some other circumstances she would even seem bossy. He finished his wine, and she took his glass and pushed it on the bedside table. He opened his mouth to tell her to sit when she lunged at him and caught his mouth in another greedy kiss. She was standing in front of him, he grabbed her buttocks and pulled her into him.
His hands were roaming her body, from the perky bottom to narrow back, while she was devouring his mouth, her hands at some point pushed into his hair. She was scraping the back of his head, and only when she started sucking at his bottom lip he realised that she was behaving much more wantonly than before. He paused in his ministrations, some sort of apprehensive feeling nagging at his mind, but suddenly she dropped on her knees in front of him. His eyes fell into her cleavage, small or not, her breasts were perky, and he grabbed the collar with two hands and jerked down and to the sides. There was the sound of ripping fabric, and he pushed the bodice down, baring her upper body. He cupped both breasts, and suddenly she arched into his palms, a loud lustful moan falling off her lips. His head started spinning from suffocating arousal, and then her hands lay on his belt.
"Wren..." He wasn't sure what he was saying, when she suddenly licked her lips. Something exploded in his head, from the view of her small wet tongue running over the very red lips that made him keep her in his room at the first place, and with a growl her pushed her on the floor and covered her body with his. She moaned, spread her knees wider, and he bit into her bare shoulder. He felt her legs wrap around his waist. Her small cool hands slid under his tunic on his back, and she clawed at him.
And that's when he understood that his head was swimming, and his mad arousal had nothing to do with it. He lifted his head and shook it, the waves of his hair brushing at her face. She snorted, and he met her eyes.
In them he saw none of the innocent girl who was crying on his bed. One of her brows lifted sarcastically, she gave him a mocking look.
"Blimey, it works on Dwarves so much slower than on Men. And all that considering I doubled the dosage."
He blinked forcefully several times, trying to rid himself from the disgusting haze his head was swimming in. She pressed her hands into his chest and pushed him off her. His body wasn't under his control anymore, and he awkwardly rolled on his back. She shifted, and he suddenly realised she was straddling him.
"Well, honourable Dwarf, let's hope you have enough gold on you to pay off for all the trouble I had to go through here." She gave him a studying look. He tried to lift his arm, but all his extremities felt numb and unresponsive. She tried to adjust her dress and tut-tutted, "What a brute!" She sounded as if she was complimenting him though, her eyes were sparkling with laughter, and she took a shred of fabric and dangled it in front of his nose. "That will be taken out of your gold. Oh wait! All your gold will be taken." Her small deft hands ran along his body, and she pulled out his coin pouch. She weighed it in her hand and clicked her tongue with merriment. "Maiar help me, you are rich as a King. Well, sweetpea, what is your name? So I know which cities I should avoid in the future. I do travel a lot, but I try to only meet new people. It expands one's horizons." She gave him a sly smile.
He glared at her. He felt that he could still talk, while the rest of his body was quickly losing any ability to move. She tilted her head and smirked.
"Maiar, save me, you're a looker. This is glorious," she ran the tip of her delicate index finger along the bridge of his nose, "And the rest is just…" She released an exaggerated sigh. "I almost regret that the draught started working. I didn't even get a chance to rid you of your tunic, and my oh my, how I love myself a hairy chest." She threw a hungry look over his spread body and licked her lips again. "I have to say, to convince the mack to work you was an aggro. Are you important, sweetpea?" He clenched his jaw and tried to move his fingers. He was unsuccessful. "Or plain dangerous? Should I worry?" She climbed off him, and he heard some rustling in the room. She returned in his field of vision, her dress fixed, his coat over her shoulders. She twirled in front of him as if showing off a new dress to her husband and giggled.
"I do look good in blue, but I have a suspicion I shouldn't take it. It is rather distinct, sweetpea." She shook it off and sat on the floor near him. Her fingers were lazily drawing squiggles on his chest while she was studying his face. "Common, love, you have about five seconds left to speak. What is your name? Should I perhaps stuff a dagger between your ribs to be on the safe side?"
"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror," he rasped out, and her eyebrows hiked up.
"Dear me!" Her eyes were once again giant, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. She stayed silent for a few seconds, her eyes fixed on his face. "Oh sweetpea, that is quite a plight we are in here. To end you and potentially leave the honourable race of Dwarves without the next King, or leave you be and have you very, very upset with me. You are very upset with me, sweetpea, aren't you?" She threw him an almost flirty look, and suddenly he realised he wasn't. Unless she decided to kill him, he could find this ridiculous adventure almost entertaining. She seemed to have guessed his mind and laughed in a silver voice.
She straddled him again and then leaning down she quickly pecked his lips. "The draught will wear off in a couple hours. No irreversible consequences, I'm not cruel." She placed another kiss on his lips. "Maiar help me, you are to die for!" The third kiss was long, he couldn't reciprocate but enjoyed it nonetheless. She lifted her face, her lips swollen and eyes feverish. "I wish we had a chance to take it a wee bit further, sweetpea. I didn't have a peek but can make an educated guess," her small palm lightly brushed over his crotch, "I am certain I am missing a lot," she giggled. "Such a pity, sweetpea. Such a pity." She climbed off him and quickly left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Had he the ability at the moment, Thorin would have guffawed.