A/N: Thank you all for the sweet comments and PMs you've been sending me! I really appreciate them and they make writing this story all the more fun. With that said, this chapter is back and forth between Dale and Lake Town and is supposed to take place over the span of a couple of days. Daydreams, surprises, bar fights, and epiphanies are all had within these next 22 pages. Enjoy~!
Chapter Fourteen
Dwalin sighed as he wandered around Dale, feeling rather bored. Nori was off checking up on his and Dori's business partners while Bifur and Bofur were at work. Truthfully, he could go back to Erebor…he had come to Dale because of a rumor he had heard about Nori and illegal activities, but he had witnessed nothing shady –well, shadier than normal- about him. If he were to go back to Erebor, there would be nothing really for him to do. Unlike the other members of the Company, he didn't have any useful business or teaching skills besides fighting, leaving him to lead a rather…boring life these days.
With nothing else better to do, he changed his course and made for the market. He knew well enough that over the last couple of days, Bofur, Bifur, and Will hadn't gotten much in the way of lunch since Baylee was gone. It also didn't help that, ever since they moved out of the inn and properly into the second floor of their store, they didn't get much of a breakfast, either. Just wasn't right for a dwarf to get so little food, in his opinion.
So he would show them his rarely seen kind side.
Stopping by various vendors, he made sure to buy enough food for three hungrily dwarves and one large, hungry human. He bought dumplings, pies, breads, cheese, and some chunks of meat that was both cured and smoked. When he got nearer to the toyshop, he also bought them each a bottle of wine. Normally, he'd prefer beer, but it didn't come in such handy bottles.
With food in hand, he went to the toyshop. It wasn't nearly as busy as it had been for its first two days, but there was still a fair amount of adults and children inside. When he entered, some of the children gave him a wide berth because he was so imposing. Off in the corner, he saw Bofur explaining one of the toys to a little girl while Will was taking money from a mother as she purchased a kite for her daughter.
Walking past the two of them with a small wave, he went into the back room where he found Bifur sweeping up some wood shavings. "I brought food," he told him, speaking in Khuzdul. He headed into the kitchen.
Bifur looked up, finding himself a bit startled. "You did?" he asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "How much food…?" Poking his head into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe.
"Enough for the four of us." He started to lay the food out on the table, neatly stacking the used breakfast dishes out of the way. "Yeh and Bofur don't get enough food these days and Will…well, he's a big lad. He needs lots of food." When he came across what looked like the beginning of a bracelet, he decided that it would be best to leave that alone for now.
Bifur chuckled, moving to get the dirty dishes out of the way and bring out some clean ones. "Sorry about the mess…We had a bit of a late start this morning."
He cocked his brow. "Why's that?"
"Bofur dropped a bowlful of barley on the floor and it went everywhere. It took a good half an hour to get it clean."
"Ah." He set a bottle of wine at each of the places before stepping back and observing his table setting skills. They weren't too bad, he thought, though the presentation would never pass in a noble household. "Well, feel free t' start eatin' if yeh like. I'll go tell the other two 'bout the food."
"No need to tell me." Bofur came in, grinning broadly. "Will's finishin' up with the last two customers an' then he'll put the lunch sign up." He moved to take the seat where the in-progress bracelet was at.
Dwalin cocked his brow as he sat down, starting to pile his plate up with food. "Who's that bracelet for?" he inquired.
Bofur's cheeks turned a little pink. "Baylee," he admitted before he could stop himself. "Er…her an' Will's birthday is comin' up soon, so I thought I'd make her somethin'. Tryin' t' think of something for Will, too." The speed at which he spoke was too fast for him to be telling the entire truth.
His brow remained raised as he looked at the shorter dwarf. Then, he slowly started to grin. "Yeh fancy her, don't yeh lad?"
Grabbing a bottle, Bofur used his teeth to uncork it. "Yes. I do." His cheeks were bright red as he spoke, but he seemed calm enough.
His bluntness made Bifur pause and stare at him. Past his cousin, he could see that Will had come in and had been rendered frozen to his spot –Dwalin and Bofur had been conversing in Westron, not Khuzdul, letting the human understand their conversation perfectly. An almost triumphant grin came to his lips.
"Nêguzu dilak?" Bifur asked Bofur, a hint of a grin coming to his lips.
"Of course I mean that!" Bofur replied, a small frown on his face. "I wouldn't joke 'bout somethin' like this an' you know it. Aye, it took a while for me t' realize it, but…I do fancy Baylee." He ripped off a piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth, still entirely unaware of Will's presence.
Suddenly, Will clapped Bofur on the back, taking him by surprise. "My sister's a lucky woman, then!" he happily declared.
Bofur nearly choked on his lunch.
Lovisa drummed her fingers against her arm as she watched Baylee and Ori scrub off their legs in the cold waters of the Long Lake. From the knee down, the two of them were covered in mud because Baylee had thought that showing Ori where Lake Town grew their freshwater clams would be a good idea. Ori, at least, had possessed the forethought to remove his boots and leave them on the shore.
Baylee…didn't. And now she needed a pair of new boots.
'Knew better,' she silently scolded. 'Know mud suck people in.'
"I didn't think that the mud was tha' deep! It hadn't been a few years ago." She walked, barefoot, onto the pebbly shore. "Not t' mention, I wasn't expectin' mud at all –aren't the elves in charge o' the clam beds? They normally have walkways constructed."
She shook her head. 'Building new.'
Ori chuckled. "At least it was fun?" he suggested. "Dori never let me tromp through the mud like that. Now I know what I was missin' when I was a child."
Lovisa stared at him. 'Not play in mud?'
He shook his head. "My brother never allowed for it. My mother would, but…she passed on when I was very young." Shrugging lightly, he wrung out of the hem of his tunic, which had gotten soaked by the lake. Plopping down on the rocks, he tugged his boots back on, watching as Baylee rolled up the legs of her trousers. His brows furrowed as he saw what looked like a sword scar on her calf, but he did not question its origins.
Shaking her head, Lovisa put her hands on her hips and quietly sighed. 'They never really grow up,' she thought, a small smile gracing her lips. Turning her head, she looked back towards the city before glancing at the sun. Its position in the sky let her know that it was early in the afternoon. 'Did eat?' she signed to the other two.
"We had a small lunch, yes," Ori answered.
'Small?'
Baylee nodded. "He bought us some dumplings an' we ate 'em on our way out here." She covered her mouth as she yawned.
'That not much.' She gave them both motherly looks before grabbing their hands and leading them off. Such a thing was familiar to Baylee; many times throughout her youth she and Will had followed behind Lovisa as she took them to the market or to the shore to play. Once they were on the bridge, Lovisa released their hands. 'Need get food, boots, knife.'
"Why a knife?" Baylee inquired.
She glanced over her shoulder. 'Broke.'
"How did you manage to break a knife?"
"It's not hard," Ori chuckled. "Dwalin's gone through so many of them…I'm thinking about getting him a couple while we're here. I've seen some good quality ones in the market; they almost look to be of dwarven make."
'Maybe,' Lovisa said. 'Likely imported. No dwarf smith here. Died years past.'
Baylee glance at Ori, who nodded in understanding. She knew well enough that the last dwarven smith to live in Lake Town had been Lovisa's father. He had been her father's master before he became an innkeeper.
"Well, any good quality blade would be welcomed by Dwalin…he's a warrior and he certainly enjoys getting new, sharp toys to play with," Ori chuckled. Both women noticed that his cheeks were tinged pink, earning a small grin from the two of them. "And some more food does sound good…"
"I know a great pie maker who makes some delicious meat pies," Baylee told him. As they came into the bustle of the city, Ori and Lovisa instinctively moved behind and in front of her respectively, wanting to spare her toes from getting stomped on. "Let's buy some o' those an' then visit the shoemakers?" she suggested.
Lovisa nodded, weaving her way through the crowds. At one point, Ori found himself having to hold onto Baylee's hand so he wouldn't get separated. Within time, though, the three of them were sitting, cross-legged, just inside a neat alleyway, their laps and mouths filled with warm, meat pie.
"Ned should really come up t' Dale," Baylee murmured before taking a large bite out of her chicken pie. "He always puts the right amount o' chicken an' vegetables into his pies."
A quiet, hoarse giggle came from Lovisa. 'Dale got Adela. Keep Ned.'
"Aw, but Adela makes good fruit pies. Ned…he's got the best meat pies. Anyway, he should come up an' visit his sister at the very least!"
She giggled again, setting her pie on her knee. 'She continue bake?'
"Aye," she chuckled. A sly grin came to her face. "An' guess what? She an' Will are courtin'."
Lovisa's gold eyes shot open in shock. 'What!? Warren know!?'
Baylee snorted as she took a bite of her second pie. 'No,' she signed. 'Will not tell. I keep secret. Think should tell…but not.'
Ori looked between the two of them. "What's so bad about Will courting this woman?"
'Warren hate Adela's father,' Lovisa told him. 'Rivals. Both have inns. Successful inns.'
"Never mind the inns. Adela's father tried t' woo my mother away from my papa when they were younger. Ooh, how he rues tha' day…O' course, neither knew that my mum was pregnant at the time…" She quietly giggled.
He frowned. "So, her father tried to seduce a married woman? Don't humans have laws against that? Dwarves do…"
"Will 'n me are bastards," Baylee giggled. "Mum an' papa weren't married until we were 'bout a year old. An', no. We don't have such laws unless any…'activities' took place an' are provable."
Lovisa lightly shook her head. 'Why being bastard funny?' she signed, the expression on her face showing that she was lightly scolding them. 'Are lucky Lake Town laws say are legitimate with marriage. Not all so lucky.'
Baylee's cheeks flared red in embarrassment and she looked down at her lap. "Sorry," she murmured, picking at a piece of crust. "Will 'n I just find it funny because it means no one can call us bastards an' offend us…"
'Good that not offended,' Lovisa reassured her. 'Just not everyone find funny. Remember.'
She nodded in understanding, taking another bite of her pie.
Ori looked between the two of them. When he had first been introduced to Lovisa, he had found it hard to believe that she had once been the caretaker for Will and Baylee –but now, after witnessing the gentle scolding she administered, he was starting to believe it. He hid a small smile behind his last beef pie as he took a bite from it.
'To our elders, I guess we never truly grow up,' he thought.
"I can't believe yeh spurted tha' out like tha', Bofur."
"I didn't know he was in the room! If I had known, then I would have kept my gob shut!"
"Mhm. That's why yeh tend to spout out the first thing tha' comes t' yer head all the time, eh?" Dwalin chortled and patted Bofur on the back. The smaller dwarf wobbled slightly in his spot, but didn't fall over –which was good, for they were sitting atop the graveyard wall. Most people avoided the place, despite the gorgeous views of the city it held. "At least William embraced the fact tha' yeh fancy his sister. Most would knock the snot out o' yeh."
Bofur sighed and took a long breath from his pipe. "It's not Will I'm worried 'bout, though. It's Warren an' Baylee herself." He closed his eyes as he exhaled the smoke, feeling its heat leave through his nose.
Dwalin cocked his brow and lowered his own pipe from his lips. "I can understand bein' afraid o' Warren, but Baylee? Why are yeh afraid o' her? I mean, aye, she's quite good with a spear, but I doubt she'll gut yeh with it for somethin' so trivial." He rubbed his tattooed scalp, sighing quietly. "Unless yeh mean rejection."
"It's a bit o' bein' afraid o' rejection an' her reaction if I ever told her." He took in another breath of smoke, tasting the mixture of tobacco and cherries flow across his tongue and down the back of his throat. "I mean, I could handle the rejection, but I don't think I could tell her because I'm afraid she'll be disgusted with me."
"An' why d'yeh think that?" He checked the bowl of his pipe, frowning when he saw nothing but ashes. 'No wonder my smoke got so weak,' he thought.
"I'm a dwarrow an' she's a human," he stated. "Most human women wouldn't be flattered t' find out a dwarrow fancies 'em –especially one so low in rank as me. An', let's face it, I'm not handsome even amongst our kind. Not t' mention, I'm over a century older than her!" He self-consciously rubbed his chin; he had more beard now than he did five years ago, but it still wasn't much. "I'm just worried that…if I told her…she'd laugh in my face or somethin'."
A loud snort came from Dwalin. Holding his pipe between his teeth, he lit it using a match. "Yer too paranoid, lad. Miss Baylee ain't the type t' laugh in someone's face at somethin' like that."
Bofur glanced up at him, unsure about his words. "She could."
He shook his head. "No. Yeh've known her longer 'n me, Bofur. When has she seemed the type o' woman t' be scornful?" Again, he shook his head and puffed on his pipe a bit before blowing a smoke ring into the sky. "No, if anythin', she'll be understandin'. If she don't fancy yeh back, she'll probably break it t' yeh gently –but if she does fancy yeh…" He quietly laughed.
His brows furrowing, he pulled his pipe from his mouth. "How do you know so much 'bout a subject like this?" he inquired.
"Because I had the exact same worries when I realized I fancied Ori." He stared at Bofur, no hint of joking or teasing on his features. "Ori's a young lad –much younger 'n yeh an' me- an' he's quite handsome by our standards. Not t' mentioned a wee bit sheltered. I thought he'd hate me if'n I told him 'bout how I felt, so I kept it quiet. Wasn't 'til he outright kissed me one day tha' I knew he wouldn't reject me. O' course, he did scold me for not tellin' him sooner…" He shrugged.
"I wouldn't have thought you were afraid o' anything," Bofur murmured, blinking, "let alone someone rejectin' you."
For a long moment, Dwalin was quietly. His gaze fell from Bofur to look down at the graveyard. They were evidently sitting near where the human nobility had been buried, because all the tombs and headstones he could see were large and had once been intricately carved, though weather had worn them down throughout the years –save for one. It seemed almost brand new. He was tempted to slide off the wall and go see who it belonged to, but he thought better of it.
At last, he spoke, his voice quiet. "Mahal made us dwarrows passionate lovers," he started. "Not just romantic lovers. Why do yeh think there are so few dwarrow children? Because so many o' our kind are in love with their craft or with their treasures. When Mahal blesses us enough t' give us room t' love another bein'…we love 'em with all our hearts an' if someone tries t' take 'em from us, we'll fight t' keep 'em ours –t' death even.
"So when we find ourselves in love with a person tha' we think we can't have –tha' we can't hold- it scares us. It's not like bein' in love with yer craft or yer supply o' gold. Yeh always have those –always. A person, though…yeh can't always have 'em. They may be too absorbed in their craft or in a different dwarrow an' there yeh are, left with a hole in yer heart that can't be filled."
Swallowing hard, Bofur slowly nodded. With a quiet sigh, he looked down only to find that he was gripping his shirt over his heart. "I know tha' feelin' all too well," he mumbled.
Dwalin slowly nodded, setting his hand on his shoulder. "Yeh loss yer betrothed nearly fifty years ago an' it still hurts yeh t' think 'bout her. An' it hurt me t' think tha' I couldn't have Ori –no, it terrified me. I hid it well, but I was terrified." He shook his head and let out a quiet sigh as he turned his eyes upwards, watching as some grey clouds drifted overheard; it had been threatening to rain for days now. "I knew I should have jus' told him, but…I didn't want t' know the pain o' rejection. But when 'e went an' kissed me…" A small smile came to his lips. "When he kissed me, I knew it would o' hurt more if I had jus' kept it t' myself because then I wouldn't have ever known."
"So I should tell her, regardless o' how scared I am?"
He nodded again. "Aye…because then yeh'll at least know. Not knowin' can eat away at a person like a disease."
Bofur managed a small smile as he let smoke billow out his nostrils again. "Thanks, Dwalin, though I've got t' admit that I don't think I ever pictured myself gettin' a talk 'bout love from you."
Shrugging, Dwalin moved to lay down on the wall, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. "I can't think 'bout war an' bloodshed all o' the time. Anyway…I've been tryin' t' think o' a way t' tell Nori an' Dori 'bout me 'n Ori for the last few days. I think Nori's finally catchin' on 'bout us."
"Well, you have been pinin' a bit ever since Ori an' Baylee left," Bofur quietly laughed. "It's obvious you miss him." He could see just a hint of color come to Dwalin's cheeks.
"Yeh miss Baylee," he told him, his voice dry.
Bofur laughed again. "Aye, but I hide it a wee bit better thanks t' my job. What you need is somethin' t' do t' keep your mind occupied."
"There's nothin' for a warrior dwarrow t' do in a time o' peace."
"You could join the city guard o' Dale or Erebor," he mused, "or offer fightin' lessons. I know Baylee improved quite a bit when you an' Nori took over."
He shook his head. "That's because her aunt was concentratin' on strength rather than speed. Baylee doesn't have much strength –she's got endurance, aye, but not strength- so she needed a more evasive fightin' style. She's small, like us, so o' course Nori's thievin' skills came in handy." He let his eyes drift closed.
"Tha' is true." He nibbled on the end of his pipe before glancing at Dwalin. "So…Ori just outright kissed yeh? Didn't say anythin' or the likes?"
"Nah. He told me he wanted t' talk t' me in private, led me away from everyone, an' jus'…well, he had t' pull me down, but aye. Just kissed me. Bravest thing the lad ever did." He chuckled quietly. "I could tell tha' he was jus' as anxious as I was because first thing he did was apologize for ten minutes. Couldn't get a single word in through it all. Finally had t' shut him up with a kiss o' my own."
Bofur nodded, scratching his chin. "Don't think that'd be the way t' approach Baylee with this matter…"
"Just think 'bout it," Dwalin shrugged. "Or ask Will; I'm sure he'd be willin' t' help yeh out. Mahal knows tha' lad is more than a lil' happy tha' yeh fancy his sister."
"Don't know why. Aren't brothers supposed t' be protective o' their sisters?"
"Well, he's got himself a lass. Maybe he just wants his sister t' have a lad?" He blinked as he felt a drop of water land on his head. "They are twins after all. What one twin has, the other should get as well so things are equal…"
"Maybe…You know, ya could always tell Nori over a pint o' beer. If you buy it for him, he'll be less inclined t' rip ya a new one." A cheeky grin came to his lips as he looked at the unimpressed Dwalin.
He felt another droplet of water land on his scalp and he glanced up. "He wouldn't be able t' get his hands on me," he grumbled, "but tha' is a good idea, really. He's always more agreeable once he's got some drink in him."
The final part of Dwalin's sentence was drowned out, however. Without warning, lightning tore through the clouds and thunder boomed loudly; it was so loud, the dwarves felt it shake their bones a bit. The skies opened up and it began to rain heavily.
Bofur merely chuckled as he tucked his pipe away.
"And this is why I wear a hat," he thought aloud.
Baylee sighed quietly as she lay back in a copper tub, her body surrounded by hot, chamomile-scented water. Candles were scattered about the room, filling it with a soft, warm glow that didn't quite reach the corners of the room. Beside the tub was a stool; atop it was a tray with various bathing oils and soaps. Eira had told her to use any and as much as she liked, though she found most to be too strong for her nose
As she sank down lower into the tub, she had to admit one thing: Eira knew how to draw up baths. Back at the Tankard, she knew that her bath would be in a copper tub, much like this one, but it wouldn't feel nearly as relaxing because the room was small and their selection of bath oils scant. It wasn't for a lack of funds, but rather for Will and Demelza's health. Early on, the family had discovered that certain scents –particularly strong ones like lavender or rose- made it hard for the two of them to breath and some oils would turn Will's skin bright pink and he'd become itchy.
Opening her eyes, she reached over and ran her fingers over the tops of three bottles. These three were the only oils that she had really liked: Almond, jasmine, and ginger. She was hesitant to use the jasmine, knowing that it was expensive oil; Eira had to import it all the way from Dorwinion. The ginger one reminded her of the spicy cookies that her mother had made when she was a child; she would sit on Will's shoulders and steal handfuls of them from the jar in the kitchen when Galiene was too busy to catch them. In the end, though, it was the almond that won out –though she didn't quite know why.
'It just smells so nice,' she thought as she poured a bit into the milky water. 'It reminds me of someone, but I don't quite know who…' Grabbing a cloth, she started to scrub down her arms and legs, glancing up as light flickered outside the window. She paused and grinned as thunder rumbled lowly outside almost two minutes later.
"A storm," she breathed, eyes widening.
For a split second, the clouds to the north were illuminated by the tendrils of unseen lightning. With as long as it took for the thunder to reach her ears after the lightning struck, she knew that the storm had to be over Dale. She shook her head, hoping it would come further south.
'Will's lucky,' she thought. 'Getting to watch it…From the looks of it, it's a big one. Ah…I hope it makes it way south. I want to see it, too.' As children, she and her twin had startled her parents by not being frightened by thunder and lightning, but rather, entranced by it. More than once they had been scolded and dragged back indoors during one; Éolynna and Warren had breathed a sigh of relief when the siblings finally grasped the concept of how dangerous lightning could be.
After some time, she rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the room. When she entered her quarters, she suddenly felt a rush of excitement and she quietly chuckled.
'Aye, he's havin' the time o' his life,' she thought, locking the door. Her room was lit only by the small fireplace in the corner, leaving it quite dark. She went over to her window and threw open the window –it looked out over the lake, leaving her no worries about anyone peeking in. The time between the lightning flashes and the thunder was growing shorter, but not by much. Shaking her head, she turned away from the sight and let the towel fall from her torso so she could use it to dry her hair.
Moving towards the fire, she stopped as she looked in the mirror. Her nose scrunched up slightly at the sight of a faded set of claw marks on her stomach. Running her fingers over them, she barely flinched as the face of the orc who had slashed her filled her mind. She furrowed her brows and shook her head.
"They've faded a lot," she mumbled to herself. "Now if they'd just go away for good…" Reaching into her pack, she pulled out her brush and one of her dresses before moving to sit on her bed. She made quick work of brushing out her hair and twisting it back in a braid for the night before wringing any excess water out onto the towel.
It was as she was pulling the dress on that she got distracted. Her brows furrowed and she pulled the neck of it up and over her nose. It smelled…different from the rest of her clothes.
'Ale…?' she thought. 'And that's definitely pine…' Closing her eyes, she breathed the smell in deeper, this time the almond from her hair and skin mingling with it. After a moment's thought, she realized who the almond had reminded her of.
"Why does my dress smell like Bofur?" she mumbled, puzzled. A small, jittery sensation filled her stomach and she laid back, trying to remember when the last time she wore the dress was. 'Not that it's a bad smell,' she told herself. 'It's quite nice, really…It's warm and welcoming –just like Bofur.' Her cheeks had darkened a bit. 'Ah, yes…I last wore this when he took me to the shop to get some toys for the wee ones. And I…kissed his cheek.'
Biting the inside of her cheek, she was unaware that a small, silly smile had come to her lips as she pictured his smiling face when she had found his hat. 'I know he didn't make me pay full price for the toys…I should get him something as a thank-you. He has that scarf –it looks rather threadbare. But it'll be summer soon and he won't have need of one. Hm. A new hat is out of the question, that's for sure." She rolled onto her side, unconsciously keeping the neck of her dress pulled up around her nose.
'Maybe some trinkets for his hair?' Her brow rose slightly at both the thought and the thunder that was closing in. 'Even Bifur has more little decorations in his hair than he does. Dwarves like to show off wealth, right? Aye, I think so…so, some gold or silver beads in his hair wouldn't be a bad addition…especially if he left his hair down…'
She felt her cheeks grow hot as could see Bofur, his hair down and various beads and clasps scattered throughout his dark locks. He was clad in a deep gold shirt with a blood-red over tunic; she couldn't help but notice how both colors were rather attractive on him. She swallowed hard when she found a playful twinkle in his hazel eyes and a handsome smile on his lips. Bofur reached his hand out to her, his eyes meeting her gaze.
'Let's go t' Erebor together, Baylee. Let's run away! I'll make ya happy, I swear –you'll be the happiest woman in the whole o' Arda-'
"Baylee! Elle says we're not saving you any supper if you don't come out of your room soon!" It was Ori and he knocked on her door as he spoke. Half his words had been drowned out by the thunder, but she understood most of what had been said.
"Ah…uh…I'll be there shortly!" she called to him, startled by both her thoughts and his voice. "I just got out o' the bath, sorry!" She clenched her eyes shut, trying to calm herself; her heart was racing inside her chest.
"Well, you best hurry. Grethe is threatening to steal your potatoes." She heard him chuckle behind the door before walking off.
Standing up, she tugged her dress off of her face and fixed it so it was situated properly on her body. 'Did I really just think that? Why in the world would I want to run away, and to Erebor of all places? I must have been talking to Wenna too much before we left.' Walking out of the room with her towel in tow, she pretended to be rubbing her face dry in it as she walked down the hall, giving her some excuse for having such red cheeks. 'Though, Bofur would be quite handsome with his hair down…'
Will had his knees pulled up to his chest as he stared out of the window, his eyes fixed on the storm. He grinned, watching as the lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rattled the windows. It was barely time for supper and yet it was as dark as midnight outside.
'Baylee is going to be so jealous when I tell her about this,' he thought. 'This is a pretty big storm. We haven't had one like this in forever…'
Thunder rumbled overhead, keeping him from hearing the knock on his door. Whoever it was knocked again and called out. "Will, lad, you've a visitor." It was Wenna.
"I do?" Rising from his bed, he went to the door and opened it, finding Wenna standing in front of Adela. His brows furrowed in worry; Adela's eyes were red and puffy from crying and she was soaking wet. "Thank-you, Wenna," he told the younger woman. "Could ya bring us some tea? An' don't tell my dad just yet."
She nodded in understanding and hurried off while Will ushered Adela into his room.
"Why in the world are you so wet?" he frowned, peeling her shawl from her shoulders and setting it in front of his hearth to dry. "And why have you been crying?"
Adela's jaw started to wobble as she shuffled over to him before clinging on and sobbing against his chest. He held her close, not caring that her wet clothing was soaking through his own, dry clothing. Her whole body was shaking; whether from being wet or from her sobs, he couldn't tell. He stroked her back and held her close to him, letting her take her time to calm down.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes, she pulled back enough to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand. "M-my da'…he found out 'bout us," she croaked. Will didn't like how her voice was hoarse.
"Oh no…what did he do?" He gently led her over to his bed, where he sat her down. Grabbing his blanket, he wrapped it around her, not caring if it'd get wet, either. He always had spares.
"He…he practically disowned me. Kicked me out o' our home in front of all our patrons and said I was a traitor t' the family for courtin' ya…"
His eyes widened in anger. "He did WHAT!?"
She let out another sob as she nodded. "He says I'm not t' come back until I marry a proper lad who ain't a Braddock."
Will felt his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such anger and hatred building up inside of him. "Just because our dads hate each other doesn't mean he has the right t' treat you like this!" he whispered. "For Manwë's sake, my dad wouldn't do such an absurd thing!"
She said nothing; she only cried harder into his chest. Closing his eyes, he continued to rub her back, thinking about the various nasty things he wanted to do to Adela's father for hurting her like this. And in front of the inn's patrons?! He shook his head; he always knew that her father was a strange one. He kept stricter hours on his employees and was constantly firing anyone he didn't find to be up to his standards.
"You didn't deserve that," he whispered. "If anything, he should have come yelled at me –not you."
"Neither o' us deserved t' be yelled at," she shakily told him. "We're in love; what's so bad 'bout that?"
A small knock came to the door and Wenna poked her head in. "I've got the tea," she quietly told Will. He could see a concerned frown on her face as she stepped in; he saw that her tray also had more than just tea on it. "I uh…also brought some soup for her. It'll help t' warm her up…"
"Thank-you, Wenna," he sighed. "Just set it on the table."
She nodded, moving to do such. She also took up the teapot and filled one of the mugs up with steaming ginger tea before carrying it over to Adela, who gladly took it and thanked her. With a small nod towards Will, she left the room to go tend to the inn's patrons.
For a long while, Adela and Will were quiet. He continued to hold her, watching as she slowly traced the rim of the mug with her finger. After a moment, she lifted it and took a small sip, wincing as the warm tea slid down her aching throat. She felt Will kiss her temple and leaned against him, her eyes closing.
"I didn't know where t' go or what t' do," she whispered. "I just knew that I had t' find ya."
"You did the right thing, Adela," he murmured. He smoothed out her hair and kissed the top of her head before rising to his feet. "You can stay here," he told her, moving to the table. He grabbed the bowl of soup and a spoon.
She looked at him, horrified. "Your da', though-"
Will knelt before her, wearing a small, reassuring smile. "I'll talk to him," he told her. Filling the spoon, he held it to her lips, watching as she sipped it. "If I talk to him, I can make him understand." He fed her a bit more soup.
"Are ya sure?" she quietly asked. Before she took another spoonful of soup, she drank some tea. The ginger was helping to soothe her throat. "I don't want t' be yelled at anymore, Will."
Taking her hand, he gently covered her palm in kisses. "My dad has never yelled at me or at anyone." He fed her some more soup, waiting until half the bowl was gone before once more rising to his feet. "Stay here and get warm. I'll talk to dad and get you a change of clothes, alright?"
She nodded slowly, looking down into the bowl on her lap. "Don't…don't do anythin' drastic because o' me, Will. I don't want ya t' lose your family, too."
"I promise," he murmured, giving her forehead another kiss. Leaving the room and closing the door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. 'If I see her father within the next few days, I won't be able to resist hitting him,' he thought, walking down the hall. 'Disowning his daughter because she loves me!? He must be mad!'
He barely noticed when he passed through the kitchen and outside into the storm. Normally, he would have taken the long way around –through the storage room, into the stables, and down into the smithy, but he needed to speak with his father urgently. Lightning streaked across the sky and he glanced up for a second, a shadow of a grin coming to his lips.
Shaking his head, he went into the smithy, where a blast of hot, unforgiving air slammed against him. Warren was polishing up a new candleholder he had been working on, though he looked up as he spotted his son.
"Will?" he asked, brows furrowed. "What's wrong, lad? You look ready t' kill someone."
"If I see Mannus Stover, I just may," he admitted, leaning against the wall. He watched his father's expression change from concerned to disgust.
"What'd he do this time?" He looked back to the candleholder and the cloth in his hand.
Will was silent for a bit, trying to think of how to best break the news to his father. Warren held no love for Mannus, not since he had tried to woo Éolynna away. It also did not help that Mannus owned an inn that was rival to the Tankard. Because of this, he also held no love for any members of the Stover family.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes. "He all but disowned Adela. Kicked her out o' the inn and told her not to come back."
Warren glanced at his son. "An' that troubles you because…?"
"Because we've been courtin' in secret for the last two years." He winced as his father dropped the candleholder and it clattered to the ground. "I know you don't like the Stover family, dad, but Adela's nothin' like her father. She's sweet and loving and-"
Warren held his hand up, silencing him. "I have no quarrel with either Adela or Ned," he told him, his voice quiet. "Though, I'm starting to wonder if you've got one with me for not telling me about this relationship."
Will shook his head. "No, I don't, dad –you know I tell you everything-"
"Then why not this?" He glanced up at his son, a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.
"Because…I didn't think you'd allow it because o' how much you hate Mannus."
Warren sat down on a stool and rubbed his face tiredly, smearing a mixture of soot and polish over his face. "I may have not allowed it at first," he admitted, "but Adela's not her father. I would have come 'round in time." He cursed under his breath. "I should have known when I saw the two o' you dancin' when Bard was here."
Will's cheeks turned red and he glanced away. "I'm sorry…" he murmured, ashamed.
"Where is she now?"
"In my room, eatin' some soup and tea to get warm. She was soakin' wet when she got here."
"Of course she was. Their inn is all the way across the city." He rubbed his face again and sighed heavily. "She can stay in Baylee's room for now. She can stay permanently if she's willing to help Galiene in the kitchen." Glancing up at his son, he could see that Will was now smiling and he couldn't help but grin slightly as well. "An' see if your aunt has any dry clothes that would fit. I doubt it, though…Adela's very…"
"Soft and curvy," Will said with a dreamy grin.
Warren cleared his throat and glanced away. "I was going t' say 'buxom', but if you insist…"
Will coughed, his cheeks turning even darker, earning a hearty laugh from his father. "So…You won't stop me from courtin' her?"
"No. I'd be a hypocrite if I did, anyway. Your mum an' I courted while my own parents didn't like her." He gave Will a reassuring smile. "Also, you may want t' go over the wages she'll be earnin' an' look for one o' the rooms we'll be able t' give up for her."
"Why can't she just-"
Warren cocked his brow, knowing exactly what he was going to say. "Because I won't have my future grandchildren born out o' wedlock like you an' Baylee were." He rolled his eyes as Will snorted. "Now go on –I have some work left t' do in here. An' for Nienna's sake, Will –go the long way 'round! It took your mother an' me eight years to teach you an' your sister to not go outside during a storm…" He shook his head, turning back to polishing the candleholder.
With a small grin, Will hurried through the side door of the smithy and into the stables, making his way through them. He waved at Peter before pulling a key out and using it to unlock a door that led into the storage room. As he left that room and came into the hallway, he let out a small sigh.
Where was he supposed to find something that would fit Adela?
Demelza was most definitely too thin to loan anything to her and any of Baylee's clothes were not even remotely possible. As he neared the door to the private quarters, he wondered how improper his father would think it if he were to loan her his night shirt. Shaking his head, he sighed.
'Nothing else will fit her,' he thought. 'Not that that's a bad thing…our family just has thin women in it –and that's not bad either, except for when someone like Adela needs some clothes.' He entered his family's quarters and started down the hall, heading for his room. 'She'll just have to use my nightshirt tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go get her things and we won't have to worry about clothing again.'
Reaching the door, he opened it a crack and poked his head in. Adela was sitting closer to the heart, wrapped up in his blanket while sipping her tea. From the looks of it, her bowl of soup was gone. He smiled and came in, closing the door behind him. "I've good news."
She looked up, a bit startled to see him. "Y-you do…?"
"You'll be staying in Baylee's room tonight. After that, we'll probably have found a single-person room upstairs for you t' stay in. Dad says that if you work in the kitchen with Galiene –an', no doubt, help Baylee, Wenna, an' Auntie on busy nights- you can stay here as long as you want an' you'll be getting wages."
Her eyes widened in shock. "What?" she murmured. "He's…he's doin' all that for me?" Will nodded and she bolted to her feet, clinging onto him. "If anyone ever says a word against your da', I'll give 'em a good wallop upside the head with a frying pan!" she told him.
A soft laugh left his mouth and he patted her on the back. "Then hug him when ya see him. For now, though, I need t' get you in some dry clothes. Being that Baylee and auntie aren't quite as curvy as you, though, it'll be my nightshirt you'll be wearing tonight." Kissing the top of her head, he pulled back to open the trunk at the foot of his bed. Rummaging through it, he eventually found what he was looking for. The nightshirt was practically brand new; he mostly slept in his trousers out of habit these days.
"Close your eyes," she told him as she took the garment. She quietly laughed as Will covered his eyes with his hands, though he wore a teasing grin. "I'm surprised ya don't have a changin' screen."
He heard the rustle of fabric and knew she was beginning to disrobe. "I don't need one."
"An' why not?"
"Because my family knows how t' knock before enterin' someone else's room." The fingers of his right hand slid apart and he grinned as he peeked at her nude form. She caught him and gave him a scolding look –but there was a smile on her lips.
"Keep 'em covered, lad" she lightly warned. "I'm not about t' push my luck tonight." She slid her arms through the ones in the nightshirt and started to pull it up to her elbows.
Pouting, he obediently covered his eyes back up. "Am I not allowed t' enjoy the sight of my lover nude?" Despite wanting to peek again, he resisted the temptation.
"Only when she can also enjoy the sight o' you nude –which just so happens to not be right now. Alright. It's safe." She walked over and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his chin. "D'ya think your sister is going t' mind me in her bed…?"
He shrugged. "I doubt it. Knowin' Baylee, she'd let you have it even if she was here." He plucked up her wet clothes and moved to drape them over his only chair near the fire. Outside, the storm was still raging, but Adela didn't seem to mind. She sat down on the bed and drank some more of her tea. "Are you still hungry?"
"A little, but I can last awhile yet." She smiled up at him; her eyes were still red and she was still shaking a bit, but she was no longer crying.
Sitting down near her, he reached out and started to toy with her hair. "You know, on the bright side…This means you won't have t' wait until midnight t' feed me some pie."
A soft laugh left her throat and she leaned over, resting her head against his chest. "That is true…And perhaps I can wrangle your sister's pie recipe out o' her. I don't know why her blackberry pie always comes out tastin' so…so tart, yet sweet."
He shrugged, wrapping his arms around her. "Don't ask me. She came up with it all on her own. The fruit bread, though –she got that from our mum. I don't think she'll be willin' t' part with that though."
She nodded in understanding. "Understandable. Some recipes just need t' stay secret, otherwise everyone would be great bakers an' our customers wouldn't be comin' t' us t' eat." Closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh and relaxed against him. "Maybe this is all for the best," she murmured. "My da' was startin' t' drive me bonkers…he's been gettin' right strict 'bout the silliest o' things. He almost fired our cook the other day because he made rabbit stew instead o' beef stew like he had planned, but we were out o' beef…" She quietly sighed.
Will frowned, his fingers continuing to toy with her hair. "That's…not normal."
Another, heavier sigh left her mouth. "He almost tossed ma' out with me. She stood up t' him. Told him he was being too unfair by tossin' me out and that it shouldn't matter who I was in love with, but he yelled at her, too." She shook her head and rubbed her face. "
"Your father never really had brains for anything but business, did he?" he sighed.
She glanced up at him. "Why d'ya think Ned decided t' stay in Lake Town?" Shaking her head, she crossed her arms under her chest and snuggled against him. "No. Ned was smart. He got away from all this before it could get bad…I think ma's goin' t' pluck up the courage an' leave da' now, though. No. I know she is."
"I don't see why she didn't leave him all those years ago." He started to absentmindedly braid her hair.
"She had hope that a part of him really did love her. But…No."
"He only had eyes for my mum…which is odd, since he was married long before my parents were."
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. "Don't ask me. I'm not like him. I won't be like him. If'n we ever get married, Will, I'll only ever have eyes for you an' you alone."
Tilting her head back, he kissed her deeply on the lips, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. "An' I'll only ever love you an' any children we'll have."
"So, with the marshes to the west still flooded from winter, we'll have t' travel back north along the eastern edge o' the river." Richard glanced over at his niece as the two of them wandered through the market. They had stopped at a bead vendor, where Baylee was sorting through trays of silver and gold beads and trinkets. "There hasn't been any news of raids this far south, so we should be safe."
"I don't think we'll get attack whether we're on this side o' the river or that side," she told him. Holding up a large, silver bead, she closely inspected it. It was covered in circular engravings. "All the reports we heard back home were comin' from two an' three out o' the city. If we stay close t' the river, we'll be safe." She put the bead back down.
Richard chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Always the optimistic one, aren't you?" he asked.
"Better t' live happy than t' live grumpy," she chirped. "Do ya think Bofur would like this one?" She had picked up a large, gold bead that had figures of people and axes engraved on it.
He cocked his brow as he took the bead and looked it over. "Bofur?"
"Aye. I'm getting' him a gift."
Holding the bead back to her, he kept his brow raised. "A gift? Why for? An' I think it'll suit him."
She added the bead to the growing collection in her palm. "He did me a favor before we came down here an' I want t' repay him for it."
"Ahh…I see. What you actually mean is that you've a crush on him."
Her eyes shot open and her cheeks turned beet red. "Uncle!" she cried, aghast. The stall's vendor chuckled quietly, keeping her head ducked in a futile attempt to pretend she wasn't eavesdropping.
He smiled innocently. "I'm pulling your leg, love."
Grumbling under her breath, she chose another bead, adding it to her pile.
Richard shook his head, chuckling quietly. "So what favor was it that he did for you?"
"Gave me a good deal on the toys I bought for the wee ones," she answered. Showing the vendor the beads she had chosen, she pulled out some money to give to her in exchange. "So I thought I'd get him some hair trinkets, since I doubt he'd accept me givin' him money or tryin' t' sneak the rest of the amount to him somehow."
"So, you're getting him decorations for his hair?"
"Well, he doesn't have any. The others do."
He quietly laughed, watching her as they started to walk off towards a cloth merchant. He wanted to see if they had anything imported from Rohan; if they did, he would get some for Demelza. "Baylee, has anyone ever told you how much dwarves value their hair and beards?"
"N-no…but I know that their hair is a sign o' pride for them. An' rightly so –they've got so much o' it!" She giggled.
Opening the door for her, he watched as she went into the shop. "Most dwarves never cut their hair," he told her, "because the longer and fuller the beard, the more important they tend t' be. Take Dain for example –You saw him once. Do you remember how long his beard was?"
"So long he had it tucked into his belt."
He nodded as he looked over some silks. 'This green would be gorgeous on Demelza,' he thought. 'The color certainly would accentuate her eye color and the cloth her…' He pushed the thought from his mind, not wanting to think such things while his niece was around. "And did you see how many decoration he had in it?"
She quietly giggled as she looked at a rose-pink fabric that had white embroidery on it. It was hard to tell what the designs were while it was folded, but she thought it was pretty regardless. "Enough t' make me wonder what weighed more –him or his jewelry." She innocently, but nervously, grinned as Richard gave her a slight scolding look.
"That's because he's the king. Those of lesser statuses have less to decorate with. Bofur and Bifur don't have much at all in the way of decorations, so my guess is that they come from low-status families."
She frowned slightly. "But they helped t' reclaim Erebor. They're considered heroes now."
"That may be true, but they're humble. They probably shared their wealth with their families an' to build up a supply of toys." He found a blue silk headscarf that had golden embroidery around the edges. "Do you think your aunt would like this?"
Tilting her head, she looked it over. "Aye. She likes blue." Richard unwound it from the rack. "So what does all tha' stuff about beards an' hair decorations have t' do with me."
He chuckled. "Ah, yes…Sorry, I got a little distracted trying to find something for your aunt," he told her. "As I was saying, the dwarves are prideful of their hair and beards. Most of the time, they're the only ones to touch their hair. However…" He glanced at her when they came across spools of different colored threads, "if they fancy someone, they'll toy with the person's hair."
She cocked her brow and set down a spool of purple thread before looking up at him. "Are ya insinuatin' that, by givin' Bofur decorations for his hair, I'm flirtin' with him?"
"No. I'm merely insinuating that he may take it as a sign of flirtation."
Giving her uncle a dry look, she shook her head. "I doubt it. I mean, we've braided each other's hair before an' he made no mention o' it bein' flirtin' or acted any differently."
"Are you sure? Because when someone who isn't related t' them touches their hair, it tends to be a big deal to them."
Falling silent, she thought back to when she had braided Bofur's hair for him. He had stiffened slightly and she thought that he may have blushed just a bit, but his face had been mostly hidden from her. Then, when he had braided her hair, he seemed as if nothing had been out of the ordinary. But, Nori had acted a bit odd. He had been wearing a teasing smirk and kept glancing at Bofur before walking off…And Bofur had most definitely been blushing then.
He surely couldn't…?
And if he did, why her? There was nothing special about her. She wasn't even all that pretty; she admitted she was better looking than some females, but not nearly as attractive as most females. The only extraordinary thing about her was her ability to make fruit bread and blackberry pie.
No. He couldn't. A handsome dwarf like Bofur would more than likely fall for a gorgeous dwarven woman anyway.
"Baylee?"
"Aye?" She smiled, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Oh, no he didn't act any different. Why would he?" She chuckled quietly and shook her head. "It's a sign o' flirtation amongst dwarves –not humans- so it was just friends helpin' friends."
Despite her words, she knew her uncle wasn't convinced. His brow rose ever so slightly and the slightest hint of a grin came to his lips as he turned, moving to pull out the bundle of green silk. She wanted to tell him that she was sure he was just imagining things, but she kept silent. Something inside her had started to twist up at the thought of Bofur possibly flirting with her and she had almost felt excited about the possibility –but her doubt and senses had taken over, dashing that excitement.
'Why am I even thinking this over so much?' she thought, going over to the shelf of velvets. 'First I picture him wanting to whisk me away and then I start getting butterflies at the thought of him fancying me?' Her brows furrowed as she slightly frowned. "Wait…Do…do I fancy Bofur?" she murmured aloud.
"What was that?" Richard glanced over his shoulder when she spoke.
"N-Nothing, uncle! Just admirin' the shade o' blue here!" she quickly told him. Mentally cursing, she hoped that she sounded natural enough, though she had the feeling that she spoke too fast. 'I can't be crushing on Bofur! No, no, no!' Glancing over her shoulder, she could see her uncle preoccupied with cloth.
"Er, uncle? I'm think I'm goin' t' head back t' the inn. I'm startin' t' get hungry."
"Wait a minute and I'll come with you," he told her, moving to pay for the yards of silk and the headscarf.
"I'll…ah…be outside the shop then," she told him before hurriedly ducking outside. She breathed in the warm air, her eyes clenched shut as she leaned against the wall. Unconsciously, she plucked up a lock of her hair and started to nibble on it as she stared, worried, at the stone wooden street. 'Baylee, no. You won't crush on Bofur, no matter how handsome or how sweet he is,' she tried telling herself. 'Remember the last time you fancied someone…? Doubt Bofur would do that to you, but…I don't want to risk that humiliation again.'
"That's it…I'll just keep quiet about it…It's as easy as that," she mumbled.
"Keep quiet about what?"
She cursed as she jumped back, not having seen Richard leave the store. "N-Nothing."
He frowned at her, concern written on his features. "Baylee…What's wrong?" His tone was gentle, yet it demanded the truth. Walking over to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started to lead her away from the bustling crowds to a quieter part of the city.
Swallowing hard, she glanced up at her uncle. She knew well enough that there were three people in her life that she could tell absolutely anything to: Will, Lovisa, and Richard. With Will in Lake Town and Lovisa not knowing who Bofur was…her uncle was the only one around for miles who could help her sort out her mind. But, for the first time, she felt hesitant. Not because of anything he had done –Richard was always the patient one in the family and was a good listener- but because she almost felt as if she'd burst out crying, she was so confused.
He sat her down on a wooden bench near the edge of the city, letting them look out over the lake. On a day like today, its surface was glittering as if it were made of a million diamonds. For a while longer, Baylee remained quiet, still chewing on the lock of hair as she shifted uncomfortably on the bench. Reaching over, he tucked the lock behind her ear, the action moving it out of reach of her mouth.
"Baylee, I know you need t' talk," he gently told her, "and you know I'm here to listen."
Unable to chew on her hair, she started to fiddle with the laces of her overdress. "I don't think Bofur fancies me," she told him, "but I think I'm crushin' on him."
"Why do you think that?"
"He hasn't showed any signs o' flirting…meanwhile, I just realized I've been thinkin' about him a lot lately." Her cheeks turned pink and she kept her face down. "The other night, I put my dress on an' I noticed that it smelled like him. It made me have a daydream 'bout him askin' me to run away with him. An' then there was the night before we left –when I bought the toys from him- I…I kissed his cheek. I don't do that to people who aren't family. You know that."
He nodded slowly. "I do know that," he agreed softly. "But I also know that you don't normally get this worked up over a lad –dwarf or no. What's troubling you about this?"
She started to reach for a lock of hair, but her uncle stopped her and she forced herself to continue fiddling with the ties. "You remember what happened last time I fancied someone…"
"I highly doubt Bofur is going to treat you the way Mikael did."
"I know he wouldn't, but I still feel scared 'bout it." Her jaw shook slightly. "Anyway, I don't deserve someone like Bofur…"
He frowned. "Why would you think that? You'd be a catch for anyone."
"Because…" Once again, she tried to reach for her hair, but Richard stopped her. She knew it wasn't because he was annoyed by it, but because he didn't want her to damage her hair. "Because he's a dwarf."
"And you don't want t' court a dwarf?"
She shook her head. "A dwarf wouldn't want t' court me."
A small laugh left his mouth, surprising her. "Baylee, what in the world makes you think that? If anything, your smallness makes you desirable to them!"
A small pout came to her lips and she gave him a dry look. "Uncle, have ya even seen a dwarf woman? They're so…" She held up her hands and used them to make curved shapes in the air, "buxom. I barely even have breasts…" Scrunching her nose up, she glanced down at her small chest before shaking her head. "But that's not what I was meanin'." She let out a quiet sigh and rubbed her arm.
"Then what did you mean?" He set his hand on her shoulder.
"Bofur's still got a lot o' years on him."
He cocked his head. "And that's bad…?"
"Because if I told him how I felt an' if he felt the same an' if we got married someday…" She closed her eyes. "Papa told me that, were I to marry a dwarf, there's a fair chance that I'll pass on before 'em an' they'll still look as young as ever because o' their larger lifespan. He also said that dwarves tend t' not get a second chance at love, so…"
"…So, you're scared that you'd be damning him t' life a sorrowful life?" She nodded slowly only to have Richard pull her closer to him. As she rested her head on his shoulder and drew her knees to her chest, he let out a quiet sigh, stroking her shoulder. "You are your father's only daughter, Baylee, and that alone makes you a princess in his eyes…more so, now that your mother's gone. He just wants the best for you, but at the same time, he doesn't want you to get in over your head."
She glanced up at him. "So you agree with him 'bout the dwarves?"
"In a way, yes, but I also disagree with him. Dwarves are known for their hardiness. If you were to someday marry Bofur and pass on before him, I think he would continue on and remember you fondly. He certainly doesn't seem like the sort who lets himself get absorbed in sorrow. But!" He looked down at her and smiled. "Any thoughts of marriage right now are a little silly, don't you think? You're not even courting him! Now isn't the time to think about marriages and babies with a man –er, dwarf- you're not even courting."
Baylee couldn't help but smile at the playful tone her uncle had taken on. "Aye, that's true," she chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "So…I should tell him?"
"It would be a good idea. And, if it turns out he doesn't feel the same, it'll be his loss –though I'm sure he'll be flattered." Suddenly, he stood up and offered his niece his hand. "I think it's high time we find some lunch –though, not back at the Tide. They're having pea soup for lunch and…after Annina's full diaper this morning, I don't think I could handle the sight of such a meal at the moment."
"Uncle!" she giggled. "That's disgustin'!"
He smiled, glad to hear her laughing again. "It may be, but it's also the truth. And it wasn't your trousers the diaper overflowed on."
Nori was sitting across from Dwalin, two mugs of ale sitting between them. They were in a less-than-welcoming pub on the edge of Dale and Nori was almost certain that Dwalin was the only non-thief in the place. He wondered why in the world Dwalin would bring him to such a place, especially when it looked like a few of the humans around them could easily take the two of them out.
They probably couldn't, Nori reminded himself.
"So," he said aloud. "Why'd you bring me here?" He took up his mug of ale and took a long drink, his eyes darting about. Some of the pub's patrons were eyeing the two of them curiously, though they looked away when, under the table, Nori gave them a sign letting them know he and Dwalin were untouchable. 'My Iglishmêk may be rusty,' he thought, 'but my thieves' cant is nicely oiled…'
"What? I'm not allowed t' treat a friend o' mine t' a mug o' ale?" Dwalin asked, lifting his own mug. He took a small drink of the stuff and scrunched his nose up slightly. 'I've been spoiled by Erebor and the Tankard,' he told himself. 'This almost tastes like horse dung…'
"It's just curious that you chose t' bring me here is all." He took another drink of the ale. "After all, why not enjoy a drink at the Tankard, where we're staying?" Giving Dwalin a dry look, he gave the place another cursory glance. He was surprised to find a few female thieves amongst the males –but they certainly did not look weak. Robed in black or blood red, they blended in with the shadows. What struck him, though, was that their skin ranged from a deep golden color to an almost reddish brown. 'Dorwinion folk,' he thought. He narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing that they all had a bright, yellow jewel glued to the skin just under their left eye. 'Must be some sort of group…'
Dwalin glanced over his shoulder, spotting the women as well. They were speaking in hushed voices with the pub owner. He didn't like the look of them –not that he liked the look of anyone else in this place, but something about three of them made his skin crawl.
"Why not?" he answered at last. "I mean, the Tankard can get a bit-"
Nori rolled his eyes. "Dwalin," he sighed, "don't lie. This has somethin' to do with Ori, doesn't it?" He watched as the larger dwarf fidgeted slightly. "I know you've had his eye on him –ever since Thorin's Company, you've had a crush on him. Don't try to deny it either, because I've seen the way you look at him an' act around him." He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, his braided brow lifted. "You want to court him, don't you? I'm not exactly the right person t' ask permission from; you'd want Dori for that, you know."
Dwalin straightened in his seat. "I don't want t' ask yer permission t' court him," he told him flatly, "because we've already been courtin' for the last three years." Glancing at Nori revealed that the star-haired dwarf didn't seem to be entirely surprised. "…Aren't yeh goin' t' hit me?"
Nori snorted. "Why?"
His brows furrowed in confusion. "Because I've been secretly courtin' yer lil' brother?"
"So what?" He drained the last of his ale. "Ori's his own person. He can make his own decisions. If he wants t' court you, so be it. Even if I refused to allow it –which, mind you, Dori may- you two would still find a way to sneak around…With Bifur and Bofur's help, no doubt." He quietly chuckled. "So you really brought me to a thief-owned pub to tell me 'bout you and Ori out of fear that we'd get into a bar fight?"
"What else was I s'posed t' think?" he asked defensively. "I mean, Dori certainly would be tryin' t' hang my head on his wall for such a thing."
"If you've not noticed –I'm not that mother hen."
"Aye, I know. But yer still Ori's brother. Don't yeh feel the least bit upset?"
He shrugged. "Aye, I do –but not towards you."
"Then yer upset with Ori?"
"A bit. I've told the lad countless times he can come to me for anythin'. I may not be the most…reliable brother in terms of helping him grow up, but he knows I don't go around spilling other people's secrets." He let out a magnificent belch, drawing some attention from the other pub patrons. Patting his stomach lightly, he chuckled. "How else do you think he's survived so long under Dori's thumb? He had me to vent to sometimes."
From the corner of his eye, Dwalin could see a man inching his way closer to the two dwarves. His brow rose; normally, the man would be doing a fair job, but Dwalin had known Nori far too long. Tossing his head back, he drank the rest of his ale in one large gulp before he, too, let out a rather loud belch.
"Truth be told, I was sort o' hopin' for a fight," he quietly admitted to Nori. There was a hint of a grin under his bushy beard. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table, making it seem as if he hadn't seen the thief.
"Were you now?" Nori mused. He scratched his beard; he had noticed a different thief making his way towards them, despite his warnings of the two of them being untouchable. "Well, would it make you feel better if I told ya that there are two blokes here who don't seem to understand when a fellow borrower of fine goods tells them t' stay away?" He, too, leaned forward, lifting the back legs of the chair off of the ground.
Dwalin chuckled mischievously. "Only if said borrower o' fine goods says it's alright t' knock 'em in the gob for even thinkin' about takin' my coin." He ran a calloused finger along the metal of his knuckledusters.
"I only request that you save some for me."
Feeling the slightest of tugs on the back of his belt, Dwalin whipped around and grabbed the thief's wrists. The human barely had time to react when a powerful fist slammed into the side of his face. Nori, meanwhile, slammed the legs of his chair back onto the ground –and onto the foot of his would-be thief. A howl of pain left the man's throat. Reaching over his shoulder, Nori grabbed him by the tunic and tossed him over his head, slamming him onto the table.
"Nice one," Dwalin grinned as the whole pub jumped to its feet. He had taken a defensive stance, his back towards the wall.
"Likewise," Nori smirked. "Been awhile since I've gotten in one o' these."
"Don't lie. I know yeh got in one last week."
"I never was good at telling the truth, was I?"