Brilliant Disguise

Chapter Twenty

Sophie sighed in her sleep and Thorin couldn't help the flash of envy that sliced through him as she settled once more her breathing deep and even. Sleep mocked him at every turn. It was odd enough, sharing his bed with not only her, but with Heather as well, who slept soundly snuggled between them. But that wasn't what kept him awake, of course. All he could think about was going into Dale and turning the town upside down until he found Sten. Every time he thought about what Sophie had told him, his blood burned hotter still. A man who thought to raise his hand in anger to a woman, to a child, had no business calling himself a man at all.

His gaze went to the Orcrist, glinting softly in the corner. That blade had cut a thousand necks, or so the Goblin King had claimed when Thorin and his Company found themselves as unwelcome guests in Goblintown over a year earlier. Well, it would cut one more if he had anything to say about it. And it would do so slowly.

"Mister Thorin?" Sleep thickened Heather's voice as she picked up her head and in the soft glow of the single candle still flickering in the sconce on the far wall, her eyes were heavy lidded even as they glittered in the low light. "What are you doing here?"

"Go back to sleep, mimûna," he murmured.

"Is Papa here? Is that why you're watching over us?"

His heart broke at the hints of fear weaving into her reedy voice and he shook his head. "No, love, he is not here. No one gets into Erebor without an invitation from me, so you've nothing to fear."

She sat up and rubbed one eye. "Promise?"

He nodded. "I promise."

"Good."

He glanced down at Sophie, curled on her side, her back to them. "Why don't you go back to sleep, Heather?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to."

"Why?"

She didn't reply, but shoved her thumb into her mouth. Thorin's instinct was to ask again, but instead, he sat up and slid to the edge of the bed, then held out a hand. "Why don't we go down into the kitchens and see if Bombur left any chocolate? If so, I will heat some for you."

Her expression grew wary. "Chocolate?"

"You've never had hot chocolate?"

She shook her head, her tangled curls tumbling this way and that. He smiled as he rose, then stretched to scoop her up. "Then you, Miss Heather, are in for a treat."

Looping her arms about his neck, she met his gaze. "What does chocolate taste like?"

"Mimûna, I cannot even possibly begin to describe it. You will simply have to trust me." He gave her a gentle bounce. "Do you?"

"I do."

"Good."

"Should we wake Mama?"

"Let's let her sleep and I will leave her a note. How does that sound?"

She nodded. "That sounds fine, Mister Thorin."

"Good. Let me just put you down a moment and write your mother a note so she doesn't worry, should she wake up, and then we will go."

Erebor was normally far quieter at night than it ever was during the day, as the forges were silent, and the Great Hall was empty. A single light shone from the infirmary, but it was mostly empty, so it, too, was quiet.

Heather snuggled against him as Thorin carried her into the kitchens. The hearth was dark, but it wouldn't take long for him to get a small fire going. Several candles flickered in frosted glass globes mount along the walls, and Bombur's domain was tidied up for the night.