The hands of Time were no stranger to Thorin. He'd noticed his beard greying, strand by strand over the years. And yet he had many more to live. A Hundred at least. But looking at you as you sleep, he sees the fine lines by your eyes that sparkle ever so much. He notices the slight noises of pain in your joints as you move. Sure, you aren't old in human years, but you're aging. You, his partner, his spouse, his treasure. How his heart aches at the thought of those years he'll have without you. Thorin sighs, turning over in the spacious bed. Heavy is the crown, but how can he ever bear it without you? "Wake up my love, lest we miss the morning light. I long to see your beauty in the sun." He murmurs, rousing you from your slumber. Thorin will make every moment count. He's sure of it.