Brilliant Disguise

Chapter Sixteen

"Thorin, stop that!"

"Just one kiss. What's the harm in a single kiss?"

"What if we're caught?"

He looked about. They were tucked into a quiet alcove out of sight of anyone who might happen by overhead. She was in his arms, hers draped loosely about his neck to show she wasn't exactly trying to get away from him. In fact, she smiled and a hint of mischief danced in her beautiful blue eyes as he assured her. "No one is about and even if they were, they wouldn't see us."

"It's a great risk."

"You are worth it."

Elmaya's cheeks grew pink and he couldn't resist leaning in to brush her lips with his. They were sweet, her beard soft, and when he drew back, her deep blue eyes were luminous pools he could easily drown in. His Elmaya—easily the most beautiful dwarrowdam in all of Erebor.

A strange, throaty groaning filled the air and the mountain itself felt as if it moved. Dust and pebbles filtered down from above, and as she looked up, Elmaya wrinkled her nose. "What was that?"

"Just the mountain settling a bit. Balin said several of the others drilled a bit too deep into the rock the day before yesterday and hit an empty pocket. It's perfectly normal as the rock settles back into place." He slid his arms about her waist. "Kiss me again, mesmel."

"Thorin—"

Another low rumble shook the mountain all around them. This was far more than some settling rock or a small gas pocket, as they were hit from time to time. Thorin drew back. "Go back to your chambers. I'll come find you."

"Thorin, I'd rather stay with you."

"Not until I'm certain there's no danger. Do as I say and please, do not argue with me."

He stepped away from her and as he drew his sword, she stared. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know. But, please, just go and lock the door behind you. I'll come get you when I can, when, as I said, I'm certain it's safe for you."

He didn't wait for her to reply or to argue, but turned and made his way up the staircase as the rumbling grew louder and the mountain itself seemed to quake. As he reached the surface, he knew without being told, simply by the heat in the air.

Dragon.

He took off toward the far end of the ramparts, where he spotted Balin hurrying along the walkway. "Balin! Sound the alarm! Call out the guard! Do it now!"

Balin's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"Dragon." Thorin sprinted toward the interior balustrade, leaning over enough to make his voice carry the way he needed it to as he hollered, "Dragon!"

The rumbling worsened. The thundering grew louder and the air grew almost too hot to breathe. It reminded him of the forges when all were lit, with wave after wave of suffocating, relentless heat. He sprinted down to main level to join the Guard, his heart hammering his ribs as he drew his sword at the sound of the main gates being battered.

Never in a thousand years would Thorin have thought the gates would fail. But then they splintered, shards of wood and iron and steel becoming small missiles as the doors—

Thorin lurched awake with a sharp gasp, then sank into the pillows almost immediately, a hand covering his eyes as he fought to control his rapid breaths. Sweat broke out all across his skin, prickled across his chest, down his back.