A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

The Secrets of Laketown

Thorin was fidgeting, something he only did when he was flustered.

Or worried.

His fingers twitched, spasms convulsing through his wrists as he sat once more at the large banquet table and half listened to The Master of Laketown discuss the future restitution and repayment for the town's service to the dwarves.

He had the urge to run his fingers through his hair, but the image that would present to the portly leader before him, would not display Thorin's natural, regal heritage. No, best to play the part.

He hated it.

"Of course once you've reclaimed your grand kingdom," The Master exclaimed jovially picking a bit of food from his teeth, "We can discuss a fair 'price' for our generosity."
Thorin snorted silently, withholding a cringe, but nodded his head in agreement, to appease the leader of Laketown.

Thorin had always supposed that generous people didn't seek out rewards for their good deeds.

The man was clearly self-serving and cared nothing for the welfare of the inhabitants of Laketown. And it was clear that the only reason he was helping the dwarves in the first place was because of the potential for a large gain.

But he was nothing like...

Thorin shook his head lightly to dispel the thoughts of bright hazel eyes and soft smiles.

But what did he know of men?

What did he know of anyone really?

What motivated a person to perform an act of service?

And as The Masater droned on, Thorin's thoughts drifted to the hobbit, nestled in her blankets, sleeping peacefully.

But his heart pounded as worry niggled his brain.

****

Lyla was not sleeping peacefully.

Not by a long shot.

Her argument with Thorin had left her feeling far more wound up than she already was, making the nightmares far more potent than normal. She had imagined she was drowning again, but this time, Thorin had sat on the water's edge and laughed as Azog attacked her.

She had woken up panting, muscles aching and head pounding.

Instead of even attempting to return to sleep, she sat in one of the chairs in the small bedroom and gazed out the window, stewing over the disagreement.

'You can't keep me here!' She'd grumbled heatedly.

But Thorin had not listened. He had the audacity look considerate and compassionate as he replied that they were merely trying to take care of her.

'We're doing what's best for you. Surely you can see that.'

And while her chest tightened at the notion that someone WANTED to take care of her (and yes she COULD see the genuine concern the company held for her), her ire rose at Thorin's strange behavior.

How did he know what was best for her anyhow? He never bothered to ask!

Or listen for that matter. He believed that his methods were the only correct ones.

Did he really think he would keep her locked up in a room? That THIS was what was best for her welfare?

A better question rose in her mind then, would she really allow him to make that decision for her?

No.

No, indeed!

His heart may have been in the right place, but his head was muddled and confused. While she respected the arrogant, stubborn dwarf (and found comfort in his presence), she knew that Thorin didn't fully understand who Lyla Baggins was.