A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

An Unexpected Conversation and Alliance

Several thoughts crossed Lyla's mind in that silent moment, as she stared at Dwalin's expectant face. The first thought she considered was the attempt to run. She was small enough that she might be able to slip past the dwarf and dart a good distance before he could start towards her. But she didn't think her tender ribs could take the abuse. Not to mention the fact that she was shirtless. Such a display would hardly appeal to the better nature of her hosts (and Dwarves!) No no indeed she didn't need THAT type of attention (nor such a spectacular way to blow her cover). And she was fairly certain that her father would roll over in his grave if something like that happened to his only daughter.

Another thought she entertained was to simply slam the door in the dwarf's face and hurriedly lock it before he could get it open. Though, as she gazed at Dwalin with his taught arms, thick fists and steel boots, his battle axes slung over his shoulder, she knew this would be a foolish pursuit. He could either stop the slamming door with his boot or chop the offending wood with one of his axes if he so desired. And if nothing else, the sheer muscle force in his arms could loosen the wood from the hinges in short order.

'And what a shame that would be' Lyla mused, 'The door is rather beautiful'

No, she sighed in resignation, there was really only one option. First things first though...

"Just, uh give me a moment master Dwalin," she murmured blushing at her current state of undress, "Let me make myself presentable if you please."

However, Dwalin didn't seem to consider her request as an excuse to avoid the impending conversation and pushed his way into the room anyway.
Lyla blushed scarlet from her toes to ears and clutched the cloak (Dwalin's cloak!) tighter around her frame.

"Ex-excuse me! I don't really think this is a-appropriate!" She stammered, her face aflame.

Regardless of her protests, though, heavy footfalls entered her small sanctuary. She heard a loud 'thwump' and hazarded a glance into the room, noting the dwarf sprawled out on her bed (and he was filthy too!).

"I don't think you're in any position to be calling my actions inappropriate lassie," Dwalin muttered (though he had the decency to keep his eyes closed), "I'm not the one deceiving a company of dwarves, s'pecially one who could end yer 'burglaring career' right quick, if ye follow me. Hurry and dress yerself then. Balin's the one with patience, not me."

She didn't need to be told twice. Lyla quickly grabbed her filthy, bloodstained shirt and turned, facing away from Dwalin's reclined form. Dropping the heavy cloak, she quickly (or as quickly as she could) threw the shirt around her shoulders, shoving her arms through the designated holes and fumbled to work the buttons up. Her fingers were shaking so badly-from a mixture of embarrassment, exhaustion and pain and fear-that her usually nimble fingers couldn't function properly. As it was, it was taking far longer than normal to perform such a menial task.

She had successfully gotten the first three buttons done, when a grumble of annoyance filtered towards her ears. Dwalin sighed in frustration and she heard him approach, his footfalls matching the hammering of her heart.

"Come here burglar," He muttered lowly, turning the startled hobbit around (carefully) to face him. She was grateful she HAD managed to get most of the buttons done up (successfully covering her chest and most of her stomach), though that didn't lessen her embarrassment as Dwalin grabbed her. She simply wasn't used to being handled this way!
Grasping her shirt forward he deftly buttoned the remaining pieces of her shirt together and then pushed the hobbit back towards the bed.

"I think it best if ye sit down a few moments. Don't need you fainting on me before we've had our talk."

Lyla nodded mutely and slowly clamored on the bed. Dwalin, spotting a chair in the far corner plopped himself down and peered at the nervous hobbit carefully.