Warrior's Heart

Chapter Ten

The first thing Arielle noticed was that the ground was unusually soft.

The second? She had a pillow.

The third?

She was alone.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the open beams of a cottage roof she did not recognize. Had it all been a dream? Had her mind conjured up Thorin and the others and everything that happened from when she collapsed beneath the beech tree at Mirkwood's border?

She must have. But the trouble was, she had no idea where she was or how she arrived there.

A wonderful aroma wafted into the room, making her nose twitch. She sat up, her heart skipping a beat when she realized she wore only her short chemise. Her bow and quiver were on the floor, alongside a low chest.

The bedstead squeaked softly as she reached for the bow and she jumped when Thorin poked his head into the room. "I was beginning to wonder if I should wake you, princess."

Relief surged through her. It was no dream at all. Rubbing one eye, she managed to smile at him. "We made it?"

He came into the room, dressed in simple leggings and a dark blue tunic. "We made it. And, you no longer need to subsist on flatbread. I went gathering this morning whilst you snored away and now, I'm making something a bit more palatable."

"It smells delicious, whatever it is." She glanced down at herself. "Uh... where are my clothes?"

"In the chair, but you might want to launder them first. They're still damp from the rain."

"I have only that bloodstained dress."

"Here." He moved to the low chest, rummaging through a drawer to come up with a loose white tunic. "It will be big on you, but it should do."

She took it, drawing it over her head before rising. It met her mid-thigh and she carefully wriggled out of her chemise without giving him a peek of anything, but there was no mistaking the way Thorin's eyes darkened as she stood before him. "Thorin, you're blushing."

"The deuce I am," he replied even as his cheeks grew redder.

"Oh, but you are."

He grinned. "I cannot help it. You should only know what I'm thinking at this moment."

Now it was her turn to blush, her cheeks growing hot. "Why do I think I do not wish to know?"

"Come. My lust will wait. Your hunger, and mine, will not."

He gestured for her to follow him and so she did, padding out of the small bedroom and into the great room. It was cozy, if a bit cluttered, and she smiled at the portraits on the walls. "Are these your kin?"

"They are." Catching her by the hand, he led her over to them. "My father, Thráin. His father, Thrór."

She smiled up at him. "You greatly resemble them."

"So I'm told, but I don't often see it."

"Have you no portraits of your mother?"

He shook his head. "I am fortunate to have these. But I remember her, and that is the important thing. She was beautiful and kind and she loved my father. And she loved me, from what I can recall."

Arielle bit back a sigh. "They say you can never miss what you never had, but at times, I miss that I did not have a mother. I know so very little about her for my father refuses to discuss her. And I'm not entirely certain if what I remember is because I remember it, or if I remember it because I want it to be a memory. I only know I look like her."