A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

Sleeping, Talking, Eavesdropping

Dwalin really couldn't have known that he was giving Lyla too much of the draught mixture. Really he couldn't. And, in his defense, he'd never dealt with a hobbit patient before. Let alone, what he deemed to be, a frightfully small hobbit patient.

So it came as a cause for concern among the company, when their burglar didn't appear for breakfast the next morning.

Initially, Bofur wrote her absence off as exhaustion, but when lunch rolled around and neither hide nor hair of the young hobbit had been seen by anyone, both Dwalin and Bofur became concerned and determined to root out the location of their Halfling.

Perhaps she'd been carted off by the elves for safe keeping?

Dwalin marched down to Lyla's room with Bofur, Oin, Fili, and Kili trailing in his wake. Reaching the ornate door, his knuckle dusters scraped at the door as he pounded his fist on the thick wood.

"Halfling," he bellowed, "Open up."

Silence.

Dwalin tried again, pounding on the door harder, "Halfing, are ye in there?"

Silence.

Perhaps she really had been carted off by the elves. Dwalin's scowl deepened at the thought.

Foregoing another round of knocking on the door as a waste of time, Dwalin jiggled the handle and found the room to be unlocked.
He didn't hesitate to barge in, the others following in his wake, a cacophony of limbs and grunts as they stumbled through the door.

The room was dark, except for a few rays of light filtering in through the curtains and the doorway. And not a sound flitted through the hobbit's temporary sanctuary.

Except for the low hum of breathing.

There, under the monstrously large blanket, curled up with a large pillow a head of curly golden hair peeked out from the bedding.

Blast it all the hobbit WAS still sleeping!

"Oi Bilbo!" Bofur chortled with a large grin, "Time te get up laddie! You've nigh slept the day away."

When the hobbit made no movement of acknowledgement, Bofur approached the sleeping creature and gently shook Lyla's shoulder.

Still no response.

"Halfling!" Dwalin thundered also striding towards the bed. He shook the young hobbit a little more forcefully than Bofur had (though gentle enough not to harass the injuries the hobbit was nursing).

Nothing.

"How much of that stuff did ye give 'im?" Bofur exclaimed as they watched the hobbit sleep peacefully on, oblivious to the audience that was gathered around the bed.

"Aye, I think we've gone and given 'im too much draught for his small body te handle there Dwalin," Oin muttered, ear trumpet picking up the conversation though his attention was turned towards the hobbit. Dwalin sent a glare his way, but Oin kindly chose to ignore the offended dwarf. Instead, he checked the pulse point on the wrist staring intently at the sleeping form nestled on the bed. Finding things to be satisfactory he grunted in approval and turned back towards the rest of the dwarves, "The lad'll be sleepin' a good long while I wager. Maybe a few hours extra. And he'll be mighty groggy, but no harm's been done so it's best to just wait it out and let the lad sleep."

Dwalin muttered a few choice obscenities in Khuzdul, "Aye, best let Thorin know we'll be here at least another day," he muttered in a defeated tone of annoyance. And as much as he hated to admit it, Dwalin knew he'd be the one to have to tell Thorin.

Though his admission of guilt didn't stop him from cuffing Kili's ear when the younger dwarf started to laugh.

He'd admit his mistake, but he wouldn't be laughed at.