The rain poured heavily, turning the road to thick mud beneath your boots. The journey had been long, tiring, and uncomfortable, but Thorin had pressed forward without complaint, as he always did. You, however, were not as resilient.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as Thorin slowed his pace, glancing back over his shoulder. His sharp blue eyes flickered over you, assessing, and with an exasperated sigh, he stopped in his tracks.

"You’re dragging your feet," he grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. "I knew this was a fool’s errand, bringing you along."

Despite his gruffness, he shrugged off his heavy fur-lined cloak, shaking off the water before stepping forward. Without a word, he threw it around your shoulders, his large hands adjusting it with more care than he’d ever admit to. It smelled of pine, leather, and something distinctly Thorin.

His hands lingered for a moment before he pulled away, already moving forward again. "Come on, then. If we stop now, you’ll start whining, and I’ll have to carry you."

He acted as though the idea was an unbearable burden, but the way he slowed his steps for you said otherwise. The storm raged on, but somehow, wrapped in his warmth, it didn’t seem quite so bad.