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Brilliant Disguise ~ Chapter One

Summary: Speech therapist Josephine Asharm has been brought into Erebor to work with Bifur, but trying to find her place among people who eye her suspiciously would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but when Sophie finds herself caught between the king, his most trusted lieutenant, and the dwarf she’s there to help? She’s certain no good can come of it. Being of Man, not only does she stand out in the dwarf kingdom, she’s not entirely certain she’s actually welcome there at all.

Thorin only agreed to allow Sophie to live amongst them out of a sense of duty to Bifur, who is recovering from an odd head injury (is there any other way to describe having an axe blade lodged in one’s head, only to have it later dislodged during the Battle of the Five Armies?) Before the battle, he spoke only khuzdul. But since it? He’s regained the ability to speak Westron—if only he could but remember any of it. As for Thorin? He’s trying his damndest to ignore his own growing feelings for her, besides, he has more than enough on his plate as it is.

Both Sophie and Thorin are haunted by their pasts and are uncertain of their futures, but sometimes, chances must be taken…

A/N: This is loosely tied into my Christmas fic, Yule, which can be found here. Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives

Summary: Dís arrives in Dale to ask Sophie to come to Erebor to work with Bifur.

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x OFC Josephine (Sophie) Asharm

Characters:Thorin Oakenshield, Sophie

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,239 words

Khuzdul Translation:

mimûna - little one (f)

zubdabudê - my little lady

’amad - mother

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc

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Sophie Asharm held tightly to the little hand in hers. “Please, stop fidgeting, love,” she said softly, but sternly. “Mama’s nervous enough, you know.”

Large blue eyes blinked up at her. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

The apology in the little voice made Sophie forget her nerves for a moment and she crouched before her daughter to smooth Heather’s delicate dark ringlets away from her face before lifting the little girl in her arms to give her a squeeze. “No, you need not apologize. This is a big change for both of us. It’s hard to fault you for fidgeting.”

“Will we live here for always?”As she spoke, Heather tilted her head back, her eyes going wide as her gaze traveled the length of the massive labradorite façade that made up the main gates of the Kingdom of Erebor.

“We will for now, at least,” Sophie told her, giving her another squeeze. “Are you scared?”

Those dark ringlets bobbed. “A little.”

“Me, too. But, I think we’ll be all right in the end.”

Heather met her gaze then. “Adam said the king is scary. Is he?”

“I don’t know, love. I’ve never met him. But, his sister is very nice, so I’d imagine he is as well. But, he has much to do and many responsibilities, so that might make him appear scary. Plus, he was very badly hurt not too long ago, which probably means he’s still in some pain and probably grouchy.”

“Like Papa used to be.”

“Yes,” Sophie tried to ignore the pang at the sadness in Heather’s voice, “like Papa used to be.”

Heather sighed and rested her head on Sophie’s shoulder and without thinking, Sophie smoothed her hand over the silky curls. “It’s all right, baby,” she murmured.

A smaller door within the gates opened and a stern-faced dwarf with a full, heavy-looking dark beard and mustache and cold blue eyes glared out at them. “State yer business.”

“I’m Josephine Asharm. Lady Dís has hired me on to work with Narnerra for one of your warriors who was wounded and lost the ability to speak Westron.”

“He��s regained that ability.”

“I know, but his speech is very limited, according to her ladyship. And since speech therapy is what I do, she thought perhaps I might be able to help.” She shifted Heather to her other arm.

Heather picked up her head. “Are you angry at us?” She directed this at the dwarf.

“Heather!” Sophie tried to keep her voice a whisper, then offered the guard a smile. “She’s only four.”

To her surprise, those blue eyes warmed some. “She’s yer little girl?”

“My daughter, yes. Lady Dís told me we’d both be welcomed. Is she here, then?”

“It’s her home,” came the gruff reply, “where else would she be?”

“Well,” Sophie cleared her throat, “if you would fetch her, she will tell—”

“She did tell. She simply made no mention of a little one coming with ye.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. There are plenty of children here for her to play with, if ye’ll allow it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dwalin!” A stern, feminine voice floated out from the depths of the guardhouse, “stop giving Mrs. Asharm a hard time and let her and the child in already!”

“I beg yer pardon, yer ladyship.”

Dwalin disappeared from view and a moment later, the gates rolled open. Heather lifted her head once more and just stared. “Mama… do you see this?”

“I see it.”

“It’s so… big!”

Dwalin and a woman dwarf stepped from the shadows and Sophie smiled. “Good afternoon, Your Ladyship. I apologize for being late, but sometimes trying to get the little one ready to go…”

“Say no more,” Lady Dís Durin said holding up a hand. “I have two boys of my own and remember well the hassle it was. I’m just glad you’re here. Do come in and pay no mind to Grouchy, here.”

Sophie bit back her smile as the lady swept a hand toward Dwalin. But, Heather did no such thing. Instead, she reached for his beard, saying, “That looks so soft!” as she gripped it with both hands.

“Heather, don’t!” Sophie tried to grab at least one hand, but wasn’t quite quick enough.

Dwalin chuckled. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Asharm. She means no harm.”

“Mama, down!”

Sophie set her down and she held out a hand to Dwalin. “Play with me?”

“Heather, no—”

But Dís chuckled. “Oh, I think he should definitely play with her. In fact, Dwalin, why don’t you take her down to the nursery and see if Gimli is about? He spends far too much time alone as it is.”

With that, she turned to Sophie, her dark blue eyes serious, “Unless, of course, you would rather she stay with you.”

Sophie hesitated, but then Heather bobbed her head. “Please, Mama?”

“Very well.” Sophie nodded. “It would be fine. There aren’t many children her age in Dale, so, it would probably do her good.”

“She’s in good hands, Mrs. Asharm,” Dís assured her, her hand coming to rest on Sophie’s shoulder. “Dwalin looks and sounds like an utter grouch, but he’s actually quite good with the little ones. Watch.”

Dwalin held out a hand and as Heather slipped hers into it, he said, “Do you want to fly?”

“Fly?’

“Yes. You know—” He flapped one arm—“Fly.”

“I can’t fly.”

“Care to wager on that?”

He swept her up and held her high over his head, and Sophie held her breath as Heather let out a shriek and then burst into giggles. “Mr. Dwalin!”

“See?” Dís turned back to her. “She’s in some of the safest hands in Erebor.”

“I can see that,” Sophie replied for lack of anything else to say. She certainly couldn’t scold the king’s sister for basically handing her daughter away. Although, her gut instinct told her Lady Dís would not hand over any child to a dwarf she felt would be unsafe.

But, at the same time, her experience with the dwarves of Erebor was limited at best. Prior to the arrival of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, she’d lived in Esgaroth, where she managed to keep a roof over their heads after her husband, a fisherman, went missing.

But then that same Company woke the dragon Smaug, and that was the end of Esgaroth. For the last three months, she and Heather called Dale home, until she’d answered an advertisement to work with several dwarves who’d been wounded during the Battle of the Five Armies.

At the interview, Dís had been blunt. She didn’t want to hire a daughter of Man, as the dwarves referred to the people of both Esgaroth and Dale, but they had little choice since she was basically one of four qualified people and Dís had taken, in her words, ‘an instant dislike’ to the other three.

So, there she was, just inside the gates of Erebor, a kingdom she’d heard of, but had never seen. No one had in nearly a century, actually. And as she tried hard not to stare, Lady Dís said, “Let me take you down to your apartments. Your belongings arrived yesterday, so I took the liberty of moving them into your chambers as well. And then we can go down and you can meet with Narnerra and possibly Bifur.”

“Thank you.” Sophie nodded as she fell into step with Lady Dís, who only came to her shoulder. Like most of the dwarrowdams, as Sophie learned they were called, Dís proudly bore a heavy dark beard and a dark mustache as well, and into both she’d braided colorful beads that clacked as she walked. She was strikingly beautiful, and animated when she spoke and as she led Sophie down into the city’s depths, she offered up a brief history of the kingdom.

All around Sophie, the walls glittered with gemstones that ran in veins through the polished granite and obsidian stone. Even uncut and unpolished, they were stunningly beautiful, and glittered with the light given off by the thousands of sconces lining the walls.

The apartments were three levels below the main one, the air cooler and more damp than it was above. A chill bit into Sophie as she listened to Dís and as if reading her mind, the dwarrowdam turned to her. “Your chambers will be far warmer than this. The first order of business was to get the heating system up and running. You will have heat and hot water by nightfall.”

“I mean no offense, but how do you know when it is nightfall?”

Dís let out a silvery chuckle. “Clocks. You’ll find them throughout the city and they are maintained almost as well as the forges. Worry not, you will adjust in no time. Just like you adjust to the lack of natural light as well. Any time you wish to see the sun, there is a courtyard off the kitchens and of course, the ramparts are open to all. There are certain areas that are for the king and his family only, but, should you happen to wander into one, you needn’t worry. Thorin isn’t one much for scolding people over something so trivial.”

Sophie stopped at that. “What is he like? I’m afraid I only ever caught a glimpse of him before and I should hate to happen upon him and accidentally insult him or something.”

Dís laughed again. “You would have to set out to insult Thorin. His skin is far thicker than that of most men. He’s… he’s my brother, so I don’t know if I’m the most unbiased source, but he’s a decent enough man and a good leader. A bit gruff. No… not a bit. He’s a lot gruff. But his is a good heart and he has put the people of Erebor before anything else since he was but a boy.”

“And he doesn’t mind my being here? Or my daughter being here?”

“Not one bit. And even if he did mind, I wouldn’t worry. You’re likely only to ever see him in passing, if at all. He’s still recovering to a certain extent, and prefers to solitude over anything else these days.”

Sophie sighed softly. “It’s difficult to fault him.”

“It is. He—” Her eyes clouded for a moment as she leaned back against the stone. “He’s been through so much, and he carries a quite a bit of guilt and I’ve yet to convince him he can and should forgive himself for what happened here.”

She met Sophie’s gaze. “I assume you know what happened when he left Esgaroth.”

“Vaguely. We heard rumors, but honestly? We were just trying to survive, and it was difficult to concern myself with the royal family when I had my own to worry about. No offense, of course.”

“Fair enough and none taken. Now,” Dís pushed away from the wall and smiled once more, “let’s go find Narnerra. I’m sure she’ll want to sit down with you as well.”

Thorin rubbed his forehead and leaned his head back, his eyes closing for a moment. “Where is Dwalin?”

“Apparently he’s gone up to the gates,” Balin replied softly. “I believe the new healer has arrived.”

“Ah… Dís is at work again, making decisions I should be making.”

“And you’re surprised by this, why?”

“Well, I’m not, actually.” He lifted his head and opened his eyes to focus on Balin. “All right, it can wait for now. It’s late and I am meetinged out, to be honest. I will be glad when everything is behind us and I have no need to deal with Bard or Thranduíl again.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

Balin fell into step with him as they emerged from the Throne Room. Thorin bit back a sigh. He was tired. It had been a long day and he hadn’t slept well the night before. But so what else was new? Sleeping soundly was a thing of the past and had been since he’d left the Shire on his quest to retake his home. He tried not to let it get to him, but it wasn’t easy.

They made their way along the corridor and were nearing the main staircase when all of the sudden, a small cannonball with long dark curls hurtled toward him. He crouched and caught her easily, swinging her up into his arms with an, “Easy, mimûna, you’ll hurt someone otherwise.”

The little girl blew her hair out of her eyes and cocked her head at him. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“That word. Mimoona.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “That’s not my name, you know.”

“I know it isn’t.”

She smiled, showing off pearly little baby teeth. “What’s your name?”

“Me?” Thorin pressed his free hand to his chest. “I am Thorin, and this is Balin.”

She looked from him to Balin. “He’s old.”

Balin chuckled. “Some days more than others, I’m afraid. Where is your mother, wee one?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and looped her arms about Thorin’s neck. “Are you a dwarf?”

Balin laughed. “He is not only a dwarf, zubdabudê. But he is the king of the dwarves.”

“Balin,” Thorin growled, glaring at him.

He turned back to find her staring at him in wide-eyed wonder. “You’re a king?”

“I am, indeed.”

“If you’re a king,” she said slowly, tilting her head as if pondering him, “where is your crown?”

“I left it in my room. It’s dreadfully heavy, you know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as if she wasn’t whether or not to believe him. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you ever wear it?”

“From time to time, yes, but if I tell you a secret, will you keep it for me?”

Her eyes went perfectly round. “A secret?”

He nodded. “Will you protect it for me if I tell you?”

It was her turn to nod, and she did so solemnly. “I promise.”

“I try not to wear it whenever possible. I don’t really like it, so, if I don’t absolutely have to wear it, I don’t, but let’s not tell anyone, all right?”

She smiled and a silvery laugh rang out. “I can do that!”

“And can I ask you one more favor?”

“Of course, Mister Thorin!”

“Let’s not tell anyone I’m the king, either, all right?”

“Why?”

“I like to keep that a secret as well, so can you?”

“I will.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. Perhaps next time, if I’ve got my crown on, I’ll let you try it and you can see for yourself how heavy it is.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Heather!”

“Ahhh…” Thorin smiled at the girl as the unfamiliar voice floated their way. “Is that your name?”

She nodded. “It is.”

“Well, Heather, mimûna is khuzdul for little one. And you certainly qualify as a little one. Is that your ’amad?” He turned to Balin. “I think we’ve solved the mystery of her mother’s whereabouts.”

“No, I don’t have an ’amad.” Heather shook her head. “That’s Mama.”

Balin laughed along with him this time and Thorin gave the girl a gentle squeeze. “She sounds upset. Did you run away from her?”

Before Heather could answer, a woman came skidding about the corner and Thorin’s smile faded at the sight of her. He’d never seen her before and he knew this because he had no doubt whatsoever he would remember having seen her.

This woman was breathtaking. Absolutely and utterly breathtaking, with the same jet colored hair she’d passed onto her daughter and the most unusual tranquil gray eyes he’d ever seen.

“Does she belong to you?” he managed to ask despite his mouth going as dry as the plains beyond Erebor’s gates.

“I am so sorry,” the woman said, somewhat out of breath, no doubt from chasing her little one through Erebor’s maze-like corridors. She bent slightly, drew in a deep breath, and straightened up with a, “Heather, you know better than to run from me that way. What if you’d gotten lost? This city is unfamiliar and has some very dangerous places.”

“She’s right, you know,” Thorin told Heather, meeting her eyes. “You should never run from your mother.”

“I didn’t mean to make you mad, Mama,” she replied, turning in his arms toward her mother. “Gimli and I were having fun.”

“Gimli.” He smiled. “He’s a good boy. I’ll wager he is thrilled to have someone his age to play with.”

As he spoke, Thorin brought her back toward the dark-haired woman who still frowned. Up close, she was even more striking than he’d thought, with eyes that seemed to hover between pewter and silver set beneath delicately arched dark brows. He’d never seen eyes that shade of grey before. She managed a smile as she caught her breath finally and said, “I am so sorry if she’s interrupted you two,” as she looked from him to Balin and back.

Balin smiled. “You needn’t worry, Miss. We were just heading up to the Great Hall for supper. You are welcome to join us.”

“He beat me to it,” Thorin said, moving to hand Heather off to her mother, “but I would also like to extend the invitation.”

She took her daughter, and to his disappointment, shook her head. “Thank you, but I think we will have our supper in our chambers this evening. It’s my first day here and I’m not quite back into my sorts yet.”

“Your first day?” He frowned, but then nodded. “The therapist who will be working with Bifur, am I right?”

“Sophie Asharm and yes, I am. And this, as you probably know by now, is my daughter, Heather.”

“Mama! Guess what!” Heather reached for her mother, snuggling against her as she said, “He is the king!”

“Oh, mimûna, you promised me you’d not tell anyone.”

She clapped a hand to her mouth, her cheeks going red and her eyes round with horror. “I’m so sorry, Mister Thorin!”

Sophie looked equally horrified. “Heather, you do not call him that!”

“It’s quite all right, I assure you,” he smiled. “Thorin Durin and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Asharm.”

He held out a hand and a hint of color came to her cheeks as she accepted it and said, “I am so sorry if she was trouble for you. She was supposed to stay with Gimli.”

“His papa called him to supper,” Heather explained. “And I was trying to find you, Mama, but,” she cast her eyes downward, “I got lost.”

“It’s understandable,” Thorin replied softly. He’d half-hoped Sophie would tell him there was no Mr. Asharm, and tried to ignore the sense of disappointment when she did no such thing. “Erebor is a confusing place at first, but—” he smiled at Heather—“I’ll wager you a slice of Bombur’s chocolate cake that you know your way around here by the end of your first week here.”

Heather’s eyes widened. “You have cake?”

“Oh, indeed. Cake. Pie. Bombur is a wizard in the kitchens. So,” he looked from her to Sophie and back, “if it is all right with your ’amad, you will give me a tour come Friday and if you know where everything is, I owe you a slice of cake.”

A frown creased her forehead. “But, what if I don’t?”

“We can worry about that if it happens. I don’t think it will, though.” He lifted his eyes to Sophie. “This is, of course, as long as you have no objection.”

“You don’t need her underfoot, Your Highness—” Sophie began.

He held up a hand. “Thorin, please, and she won’t be underfoot at all.”

“Can you make me fly?” Heather chimed in. “Dwalin made me fly.”

Thorin chuckled. “I can certainly make you fly, mimûna, if you wish.”

“Heather, you really shouldn’t—”

“Again,” Thorin broke in gently, “it’s of no trouble. As long as you don’t mind, that is.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to say she very much did mind, that Heather was not to bother him again, but then she sighed softly. “I have to admit, I’m impressed that on her first day here, she’s charmed the captain of the Royal Guard and the King himself. So, no, I don’t suppose I would mind at all. Although,” she offered up a shy smile, “I wouldn’t mind a slice of that cake myself.”

“Done.” He bobbed his head. “So I will see you, mimûna, on Friday.”

“When?”

“I’ll come find you before supper, if your ’amad is quite comfortable with that, and you can show me where everything is then. Have we a date?”

“We do.” Heather bobbed her head sharply enough to make her curls dance.

“Good.” He looked over at Sophie. “And you would be welcome to join us, Mrs. Asharm.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough.” He turned to Balin. “We should be going. It was lovely to meet you ladies. And welcome to Erebor.”

Sophie sighed softly as she and Heather watched the two dwarves continue on down the corridor. She hadn’t realized she held her breath until Heather said, “He is nice for a king.”

The king. Sophie bit back a groan. “Heather, you need to take care, love. You cannot treat him as if he was like one of our friends in Dale. He is the king and should be treated with respect. Tell me you didn’t pester him.”

She shook her head. “No, Mama. I ran into him on accident, though. But, he didn't seem mad, did he?”

“No,” she admitted softly, glancing up at Thorin’s retreating back once more. “He didn't seem mad at all.”

“Can I have cake if he lets me?”

“I don’t see why not.” Sophie smiled at her. “But, you have to be honest in what you tell him. If you don’t know your way around, don’t pretend you do just to get cake. That would be cheating.”

Heather’s blue eyes were all seriousness as she nodded. “I won’t. But, Mama, how funny would it be if I had the king as a best friend?”

She chuckled. “He would be a powerful best friend, indeed. Especially the King Under the Mountain. But, you have to remember, he’s very busy, too, and don’t be a pest.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I know you won’t. So, come along and tell me all about Gimli.”

Heather lunched into the retelling of her afternoon and the story lasted through most of the quiet supper they shared in their new apartments and long after she tucked Heather in, Sophie sat on the small sofa, just watching the flames dancing on the hearth.

Their first day in their new home, in their new lives, and already her daughter had won over the notoriously grumpy King Under the Mountain. She smiled even as she rubbed her tired eyes. She looked forward to the change, to the coming days. The dwarves she’d met so far were kind and welcoming and nothing like she’d been warned about when word spread through Dale that she’d taken the position with Narnerra. But somehow, from what she’d seen, she’d made the right decision.

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