More Than Meets the Eye

Chapter Forty-Eight

When Thorin opened his eyes, it took him a minute to remember where he was, since sunlight didn't normally pour into his bedchamber. But in Dale, it did exactly that. Sunlight streamed in through the gauzy draperies, spilled across the pale oak flooring, bounced across the colorful quilts on the large, comfortable bed.

Highlighted the streaks of red and gold in his wife's hair.

He smiled as Arielle sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to him. He'd missed this, missed nights spent lost in her, falling asleep with her wrapped about him. He missed the quiet mornings just lazing about with her.

Not that he didn't absolutely and utterly adore their daughter, for he did. He'd lay down his life for his little girl without a second thought. But, he'd be lying if he didn't say both he and Arielle needed the break. Tiriana had gift for crying at exactly the wrong time, and her refusal to sleep through the night took its toll on both him and Arielle. The night away from that was exactly what they needed.

But at the same time, he looked forward to returning to Erebor, to the little creature who cried at exactly the wrong time and refused to sleep through the night and wore her parents down one minute at a time.

For the moment, however, he was content to be exactly where he was, lying stretched out beneath a gauzy white canopy, in a huge, comfortable bed piled high with pillows, and the most beautiful woman in all of Middle Earth asleep curved against his side, her arm draped over his hips, her head tucked against his chest. Her breath came warm against his skin, and when she snuggled closer, a hint of lavender teased his nose.

He was perfectly content to lay there, just listening to the sounds of Dale coming to life, hearing the sounds of vendors opening their stands in the square below, of shopkeepers setting out their wares for the day. He had a meeting with Bard later that afternoon, but the morning was absolutely free for the first time since his return to Erebor.

Through the window, he caught sight of pale blue sky. Summer was drawing to an end, a hint of autumn wafted in on the breeze. It was just a little over a year ago that he strode down the corridor to his chambers when he saw Dis with a small, slender young man with curly dark hair and open, honest blue eyes. 

He'd only been back from Rivendell a short while, was still in the process of acclimating himself, of getting his bearings. His wounds still pained him, he still moved far slower than he had prior to the battle, but the Healer in Rivendell and Narnerra in Erebor had assured him that the time would come when those pains, when his discomfort, would become things of the past.

That was why Dis had suggested a valet for him.

"Someone to help you while you settle back in," she'd said, her tone the familiar one that brooked no arguments. And he knew that no matter how he might fight her on it—and he did, for a valet was something he neither wanted nor needed—he was getting a valet. So, it was best to simply give in and hoped Dis chose wisely.

He smiled as Arielle murmured something in her sleep and snuggled closer to him still. Dis had absolutely chosen wisely. He didn't know it at the time, of course, but instead second guessed the wisdom of her choice when he first laid eyes upon the lad.

He didn't miss how Arielle, known to him then as Elen, pressed her lips together when Dis introduced them. Or how her eyes widened as they met his, but then just as quickly, her gaze slid to the floor once more as Dis said, "Elen Farran, Thorin Oakenshield, the King Under the Mountain. Thorin, this is Elen Farran."

"Dis," he'd turned his gaze to his sister. "I told you, this really was not nece—"

She held up a hand. "I'm not arguing it with you, Thorin. You're a mess and you need a keeper. So, I found you a keeper. Try not to make his life too difficult, as he comes highly recommended by the people of Dale. Now, be nice to him."