Warrior's Heart

Chapter Three

He knew he'd made a mistake the moment he sat up.

"Ohhh..." Thorin reached up to rub the curve of his neck, where the muscle kinked something terrible from his position in the sodding chair. He'd been an idiot to not take Arielle up on her offer of sharing the bed.

"Hold still."

He didn't see her slip from the bed, but then Arielle was behind him, her hands coming down onto the knot. He gritted back a yelp as she ground her fingers into his flesh, his muscle, muttered, "What the deuce are you about?"

"Just hold still. It will only hurt for a moment."

Black dots danced before his eyes as the longest moment in his life began. Was he being a fool for trusting she wasn't about to separate his head from his shoulders? Especially considering how sharp the fool pain was growing. It felt like fire blossoming beneath his skin, and he had to fight urge to grab her and toss her over his shoulder to make the pain stop.

The tension in her fingers eased, the fire became warmth, and that warmth spread along his neck and out over his left shoulder. His entire body relaxed as the pain ebbed and when she stepped away from him, it was gone entirely.

Instinctively, he curved his hand against the spot once more. His skin felt warmer there than anywhere else, but it was a soothing warmth, as if she'd applied a balm of some sort. He hesitantly tilted his head back, which was silly because all traces of pain were nothing more than memory. "What did you do to me?"

"I crumbled a bit of kingsfoil in some water. Has no one ever taught you kingsfoil is laden with healing properties?"

"I've heard tell of it, of course, but have never seen it myself. Where did you find it?"

"I keep a small store of it on me. Eventually, when I set up a home for myself, I'll plant some in a garden and cultivate it as best I can."

He lowered his hand. "This is your grand plan for exile? A home and a garden?"

"You make it sound as if there is something wrong with those things. A body needs a home, doesn't it? And if I'm going to grow things, I might as well grow useful things." She came around from behind him and as she passed before the window, he swallowed hard. Golden morning sunlight spilled through it, illuminating her from behind to give her an almost ethereal glow.

Unfortunately for his senses, it also illuminated her slim, tapered thighs, the slope of her narrow waist, and the generous curve of her breasts through the bloody muslin. And that rattled his senses in a way that they never should have. His thoughts, normally so clear and concise, were muddied and jumbled for a long moment.

He cleared his throat and looked away. This was neither the time nor the place and she was most definitely not the woman. "Are you a healer?" he asked for lack of anything better to say. "Is that why the Elvenking banished you?"

She picked up the bowl with the remains of the kingsfoil in it and moved to dump it out the window. "I'm not trained as one, no, but I spent much time around them when I was a girl, so I learned most of their trade. It was only one of the things Thranduíl disapproved of where I am concerned. "

"Poor little princess. Misunderstood by everyone."

She shot him a look. "Is that how I sound? I try not to think about it and even less to dwell on it. Things are as they are and I cannot change that."

With that, she came around from behind him and he tried to keep his gaze on anything other than her. All for naught, as she said, "Are you afraid to look at me?"

"Don't be silly." He did just that now and as he did, she smiled as if she knew exactly what he thought.

And what he thought was that she was absolutely one of the most striking women he'd ever seen. Her dark hair, dry now, gleaming like a raven's wing, so black it almost looked blue. It was loose, tumbling over her shoulders and spilling down her back in loose curls.