Sol laid his violin in the case; his red stained eyes looking elsewhere as he did, and when he closed it up He let out a forlorn sigh.

Bofur hadn't written in weeks; an act he had not started nor requested of the young dwarf that still captured his heart. He wondered if Bofur had grown tired, or worse, replaced him altogether.

The last letter had been what it always was; full of melancholy confessions of steady and seemingly unbreakable love muddled with frustrations and fears.

A sudden chill over took Sol's body and he involuntarily whimpered. Had Bofur and His secret correspondences been discovered?

"You're doing it again," pointed out a soft, gruff voice, and with a roll of his eyes, Sol turned and offered a cold stare at the one who'd come into his chambers.

Dain Ironfoot, the usual goblet held in one large hand, offered a snort and smile as he waved finger at the court musician with his free hand.

"You know what'll happen if ye do," the lord scolded, "an' I won't be able to help ye this time."

"Forgive me," Sol explained as he crossed his arms behind his back, "But I don't know what you mean!"

"Oh please!" Dain laughed, belching as he did, "You've been brooding for weeks now! And even I know about you and your toymaker…Thorin let me know when you got back with his damn letter of warning. I'm guessing he's not written you lately, eh?"

Thinking it over for a moment, Sol nodded, and Dain smiled triumphantly. "Well, lad, give it time…probably busy runnin' Bul's errands. Oh! Perhaps you could appeal to Thorin to be allowed to maintain a friendly~"

"I fear Thorin has been duped by that mad-dwarf," Sol sighed, turning away to avoid Thorin's kinsman.

"Sol…all you have is unfounded whispers," Dain said flatly, "rumors! If you, however, feel that Thorin is still in danger…you could always write to him…appeal to him to give you an audience."

"That will never happen," Sol continued, "I've been banished…and I offended the king-under-the mountain greatly. I suppose I'm lucky…he could have had me killed and caused quite a problem for you. But they're not unfounded whispers. It's all true."

"Bah!" Dain laughed after draining his goblet, "I know you too well! Obviously, you'll never give up your hatred of the jeweler or yer love of that dwarf with the funny hat. Fine…but I should warn ye, Thorin, He's completely unwilling to believe Bul is anything more than a loyal subject…If he really thought Bul dangerous, He wouldn't have allowed him to live within his own household."

Sol uttered a surprised grunt, his eyes going wide, and He shook his head slowly as if very confused.

"Thorin…Bul's living in his halls?" He asked squeezing his eyes shut as he thought through his words, "Wh-what about the child? Eh, Bo had mentioned it, that Thorin had wanted his lover and daughter to take up residences with him."

Dain nodded briskly; "Yes," He said, "I imagine that's why he had Bul come and stay with him…for their added safety. I mean…illegitimate as she may be, He's still wants Sada safe. Of course Bul is the most qualified to take up such a task."

Sol's face had gone suddenly pale and when Dain began to inquire about his sudden and questionable state, the other dwarf offered a nervous smile.

"Well," He offered as he turned his back, "If you say Thorin trusts him completely I guess I should as well."

He could feel Dain's eyes weighing on him but, even still, the terror gathered from the lord's revelation chilled his very soul.

'Bofur,' Sol thought when Dain took his hesitant leave at last, 'I have to find a way to speak with him as soon as possible.'

TWO MONTHS LATER:

"Here ye are, hand made by me, and fit for a princess! Obviously!"

Baby Sada groaned and glowered at the dwarf as he fastened the clasp of her new necklace; when finished Bul chuckled and brought fourth a fresh smile on the infants face as he began to gently bounce her on his knee while both her mother and father watched in peaceful amusement.

Solara, however, kept her eyes on her book as they all sat amongst the gardens and passed the warm afternoon lazily.

She still had not conceived and the mere sight of Bul, of all dwarves, doting on her insufferable rival's bastard child was maddening.

Even more infuriating was the task she'd left unfinished within Thorin's halls; called away, by her husband, to involuntarily join them. She'd stopped pretending to enjoy the festivities not long after arriving and retired to her book.

Thorin and his disapproving glances be damned!

She'd rather have stayed inside. To make sure the chore was completed successfully without interference.

"Ye feelin' alright My lady?" Bul asked softly, drawing a finger over his moustache, "Ye seem…indisposed."

As if sensing her anger, just after handing Baby Sada to her mother, the feyd leader had risen and now came to sit across from her on the wooden bench.

"Oh," Solara sighed as she kept her eyes on her open book, "Just…wondering if it is wise to bequeath such a fancy present upon an infant…especially one that enjoys fitting things into her mouth."

"Nah, there's no chokin' risk," Bul chuckled, "I left the cord stiff, didn't cure it this time. She won't be able to get it any where near her little mouth."

"Pity," Solara whispered gaining the glare of her lover, "Any ways…I didn't think you were one to adore children in…such a sappy way."

Before Bul could answer, a blood curdling shriek, followed by Balin's sudden appearance caused all present to leap to their feet.

"Balin what in Durin's name~" Thorin started, but upon Balin's hurried explanation the exiled king broke into a quick run; leaving Nola hugging a squirming and unhappy child tightly to her side.

Bul, all the while and quite unlike him, sat with his coal black eyes pinned on Solara.

Quietly enraged when he saw the shadow of triumph that graced her pale face.