"Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words."
George Eliot


Kili led Thorin back to the dining hall where they found that most of their company had left, with only Bombur and Dori remaining to enjoy the assorted plates of food on offer. They discovered that Bofur and Balin had taken Bilbo to explore the fortress, whereas the rest of the company had gone to perform various tasks that needed doing before their early departure on the morrow, such as having any worn clothes fixed and tending to any notched weapons. Both Dwarves tried to convince Thorin to stay in Ered Mithrin longer than one night but he replied that they were on a tight schedule: they had already lost several days in their long march northwards to the fortress – had they followed Elizabeth path they would have been deep in the heart of Mirkwood by now and that was distance they needed to recover.

Lothar came to join them, having escorted Elizabeth to her room: he loaded up a plate and seated himself opposite Thorin. He suggested that after they had finished eating they should go down to the water-gate to look out boats for the company since it was possible that the boatswain would not have enough to accommodate a company of fifteen and so vessels would have to be commissioned to be crafted overnight. Thorin nodded his head at this, his mouth full.

Kili nudged his arm while he was eating and pointed out a table on the other side of the hall. There were three large, heavily armoured and burly looking Dwarves seated there talking intently among themselves, though the empty plates still on the table were evidence of them previously having been a larger group. He whispered that they had been Fain's companions, the ones laughing at his comments about Elizabeth and their company. Thorin narrowed his eyes at them, recognising them to be Ironfists, a tribe that had been troublesome since the awakening of the Dwarves.

Lothar had followed their gaze, noticing what had captured their attention. "Ah, the Ironfists," he said between a swig of ale. "As you know they largely live in the Iron Hills but some have joined other colonies. Why they do so is beyond me, they are largely considered to be a warlike and xenophobic tribe."

This was indisputable. Millennia ago they had seized and occupied Mount Gundabad before Durin II had marched an army northwards to rout their renegade kin, who had then retreated eastwards – something he had not mentioned to Elizabeth when recounting the history of Gundabad to her the previous afternoon. While there had not been a civil war among the Dwarves for centuries, it was rumoured that some Ironfists still held resentment to the Longbeards.

Fortunately, Thorin knew this to be false. His cousin Dain was head of the Ironfist clan in the Iron Hills and was one of his closest confidants as well as being third in line for the throne.

"There used to be a few more of them in the fortress but now there is only a small handful," Lothar continued, nodding towards the table. "Most of them went out one day for a hunting party several weeks ago and were set upon by orcs. Only Fain survived."

This knowledge did not make Thorin feel any more hospitable to the captain of the guard, not after his words about Elizabeth.

"In fact until today there has not been an orc attack or raid since," Lothar continued with a scowl. "It was as if they had vanished from these mountains."

Thorin was about to reply to this when one of the Ironfist Dwarves at the table noticed his scrutiny. He said something quickly to his companions and then roughly pushed back the bench, causing it to scrape audibly on the stone. He felt Kili tense next to him as the Dwarf approached with heavy footsteps.

"My lord king," the Dwarf said gruffly as he reached their table, barely inclining his head into a bow. "There are rumours circling the fortress. Not only is the human woman a part of your company, she has been offered a place in the Firebeard clan," he said disdainfully.

"What of it?" Thorin asked deeply, annoyed by his approach.

"I would hear it contradicted, my lord king," the Dwarf replied pointedly.

Thorin took a slow sip of his ale, choosing his words carefully since he knew it would not be long before they too spread around the fortress. "To do so would be a falsehood."

The Dwarfs hand twitched almost imperceptibly towards the hilt of the knife in his belt in anger. "You mean to say you have allowed a human into our clans?"

"Her adoption has yet to be sanctified, though I saw no reason to contest it," he said, his voice deep, firm and resonant.

"And will you sanctify her?" the Dwarf demanded, turning aggressively towards Lothar.

Lothar slowly chewed and swallowed his mouthful of food before replying in a neutral tone. "I have not yet decided," he said, picking up his tankard to take a sip of ale.

The Ironfist Dwarf was positively vibrating with furious energy, his eyebrows lowered heavily. "To allow a human into our clans defies every tradition we uphold," he snarled. "Compared to us they are weak, soft as the mud-huts they came from. And for a woman to be offered such a place -"

"Enough," Thorin said loudly, rising to his feet and inadvertently capturing the attention of half of the hall with his booming voice. "Elizabeth Darrow is dear to my entire company and regardless of Lothar's decision she will always have our friendship," he said with soft menace, towering threateningly several inches above the Dwarf due to his Longbeard heritage. "Since you pay heed to gossip I advise that you spread this word about her instead: anyone who speaks out against her in such a way again will deal with my anger personally."

There was no way that the Dwarf could respond to that without provoking his ire further and so he made the wise decision to return to his table, his fury evident in every stomping step he took.

Thorin glanced down at his mostly full plate, noticing the way his companions were looking up at him in a mixture of surprise and thoughtfulness. He sighed. "I have quite lost my appetite," he told Lothar. "You said earlier that rooms had been prepared for us."

Recognising what he was asking, Lothar nodded. "Aye, go and refresh yourself after your journey, we will meet at the water-gate when you are done," he said. "You remember where the guest quarters are?" Thorin jerked his head, indicating the affirmative. "You are in the third door down to the right."

"My thanks, Lothar," he said and clapped Kili lightly on the shoulder before departing from the hall, very aware of the scrutiny he was receiving from other Dwarves.

He made his way quickly through the fortress, ignoring the glances, stares and even flirtatious smiles of the people he encountered. Despite it being over a century since he had last been in Ered Mithrin he remembered the way well and arrived at the guest quarters without incident. Locating the room he had been assigned, he pushed open the door and allowed himself a small smile at its decadence. It was a suite containing a bedroom, bathing chamber and sitting room. After months of sleeping (or what counted as sleep for him anyway) on the cold, hard ground while travelling the large bed covered high with furs looked inviting in the extreme.

The room was decorated with dark blue hangings, shot through with silver threads and embroidered designs. The furniture was all made of sturdy looking dark wood, matching the dark brown furs of the thick rugs and bedding. He also found a large harp in one corner, no doubt placed there on Lothar's orders: when he had visited Ered Mithrin previously, shortly after the loss of Erebor, playing the harp had been one of the few things to calm his mind. It was good of Lord Lothar to remember such a thing and be considerate enough to provide a harp should the urge to play strike him.

Knowing he didn't have time for a proper bath, he located a jug of hot water and filled the ewer on the desk. He then set about removing his belt, tunic and armour. He was unlacing his dark blue under-shirt when he saw the large, closed wooden door in the sitting area, something he had not noticed in his initial evaluation of the room.

Crossing the room, he tried the handle, frowning when he found it to be locked. He crouched down to examine the keyhole, recognising it as being a simple pin-tumbler lock that fitted a large key. Finding no hint of the key in question either around the door or in any of the empty draws of the room, he contemplated the door thoughtfully. He found that he did not like the idea of a door leading to an unknown location with the key missing, knowing that anyone could simply enter the room upon a whim.

Deciding to investigate further, he searched the room for something that could be used as a lock pick, eventually settling on part of a wire hanger he found in the armoire. He twisted it deftly into shape and crouched in front of the door once more. Inserting the make-shift pick into the lock, it was scant seconds before he heard it give a satisfying click.

He grabbed Orcrist from the bed and slowly turned the handle, pushing open the door with a faint creak. He blinked in surprise as he found himself in a warm, red toned chamber that contrasted elegantly to his. The two rooms were clearly a lord and lady chamber, with some couples within their culture electing not to share a bed upon a regular basis even after marriage and occupying adjoining rooms instead.

What was strange though was the fact that a fire was merrily burning in the hearth and he could see through the archway leading to the bedchamber that there were Dwarvish clothes draped over the fur covers of the bed … surely they hadn't given him a room attached to one that was already occupied.

He sensed movement behind him and turned swiftly with Orcrist instinctively poised to attack – it clashed against Elizabeth's sword and force of his blow pushed her back against the wall beside the archway leading to the bathroom that she had apparently just emerged from. They stared at each other, their swords locked in the air between them and their bodies close together, with her back braced against the wall. They were both utterly astonished by the others presence.

"Jesus tap-dancing Christ, Thorin!" she snarled as she registered that it was him and not the assailant she had apparently been expecting. "You scared the crap out of me!" She released the tension of her arm, dropping her sword to one side. He realised that she was absolutely drenched for the second time that day, her hair dripping down her face. She was wearing his coat once more, her left hand holding it firmly closed around her – and based on her wet hair and the half-full bathtub that he could see through the archway behind her, it was very likely that she was wearing nothing but his coat.

He swallowed hard.

"My sincerest apologies," he said gruffly, half turning away from her even though she was fairly decently covered by his coat. In doing so he noticed her familiar clothing that he had missed before drying in front of the fire.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" she demanded angrily, shoving her wet hair out of her face and glaring at him.

"It appears we have been given an adjoining room," he said by way of explanation, nodding towards the still open door.

She stomped past him and looked into his room. "Huh," he heard her say as his eyes reluctantly followed the downward descent of some bubbles that were stubbornly clinging to her legs after her bath. "Why would they do that?"

Why indeed, Elizabeth was not his wife and so there was no reason for them to have been given lord and lady chambers. "It is probably because these are the best rooms available," he said logically, raising his gaze from her legs and thinking on how there hadn't been a key anywhere to be found, effectively making them two separate rooms.

She turned to him with a frown. "This door was locked," she said, echoing his thoughts.

"Aye," he replied. She was still frowning and so he decided to elaborate. "I picked the lock."

"You picked the lock?" she repeated with clear incredulity, giving him a thoroughly bemused look. "What the hell is wrong with you, don't you trust them?"

Thorin scowled, but didn't reply.

"You … you don't trust them," Elizabeth said slowly as realisation dawned in her grey eyes.

"Our welcome was not entirely what I anticipated," he admitted reluctantly.

She snorted at him. "Did you expect them to roll out the red carpet?"

While he did not recognise the significance of the carpet she spoke of the derision in her voice was easy to detect. "I did not expect outright hostility," he told her. While he had expected an adverse reaction to her presence, Kili's account of Fain criticising their company as being exiles as opposed to the ruling line of Durin worried him.

"I know Fain was a bit of an asshat, but Lothi and Lothar seem okay," she said, tilting her head at him. "Didn't kick me out of the fortress when he saw this anyway," she added, flicking her hair-bead with one hand.

This reminded him of the conversation he'd had with the Ironfist Dwarf in the main hall. "News of your adoption is spreading around the fortress, you should prepare yourself for comments," he warned her.

She sighed, slumping her shoulders and causing the collar of his coat to slip down a little. "Great," she muttered sarcastically but he wasn't paying heed to her words. His attention had been momentarily captured by the barest hint of cleavage she was now showing. It was strange, he had seen her in less when she wore the blue dress from her world that she favoured, but somehow since she was mostly covered by the leather and fur of his coat it made the bits of collar-bone and leg she was showing more alluring.

Remembering Kili's words about Beorn's proposal to her, he raised his gaze to her face, curiously trying to trace the features that the bear-man had found attractive in her. He supposed that her skin was clear and soft-looking, though some would consider it to be marred by the smattering of faint freckles as a result of travelling under the sun; her eyes were also somewhat pretty, being a mercurial silvery-grey; her lower lip, so often twisted into wry, half smirks and smiles, was fuller than her top one, whereas her arched eyebrows and pert nose often gave her an impudent and mischievous expression.

By Dwarvern standards she would be considered too delicate looking, strange and foreign with her lack of a beard, but he was forced to acknowledge that Beorn was right in his assessment of her. Her features, when considered individually, were actually fairer than he had initially thought – and it had taken the knowledge that others found her attractive for him to realise this.


Lizzy was acutely aware that she was stark naked beneath Thorin's coat, with the leather doing funny things against her bare skin. After having told her of the rumours that were spreading he was staring at her in a peculiar, contemplative way with his head tilted to one side and his sword still half raised in his hand. He had shed his armour before picking the lock to her room and so was wearing just his dark blue under-shirt, stained with his sweat after weeks of travel.

The strange examination Thorin was giving her was interrupted by a faint knock on the main door to her room and Lizzy called for the person to come in without really thinking about what the scene in the room would look like to whoever it was outside.

Amma timidly poked her head inside – only for her eyes to widen to the size of saucers upon seeing Thorin. "My apologies -" she started to say, instinctively ducking out of the room.

"No, Amma, it's fine, come in," Lizzy insisted, tossing her sword down onto one of the seats in the sitting area in an attempt to look less intimidating to the shy girl and heading towards the bedroom to look for the clothes that Lady Autha had said she's left. "I'll just be a few more minutes, need to actually get dressed … Hey, can I ask why we have been given an adjoining room?" she called through the archway of the bedroom, having located some leggings and a tunic on the bed, along with a very fancy looking dress.

"These suites were the only ones available that were suitable for royalty," Amma said nervously from where she was hovering by the door, twisting her hands in front of her as she glanced at Thorin. "Adad said you were to have the finest possible room too, so we thought if we locked the door …"

"Right," Lizzy said, examining some lace-up, soft leather shoes she had also been given, very aware that her sturdy walking boots were now somewhere on the bottom of the lake outside. Explaining their loss would be difficult when she went back to her world.

"If we have caused offence -"

"Noooo, it's fine," she said, poking her head out of the bedroom to reassure the poor girl who still looked on the verge of bolting. "Well, I was a little startled by Thorin bursting in on me while I was in the bath, but it was fine," she said cheekily in an attempt to make Amma smile - all she did was glance fearfully between her and the darkly scowling king and blush, her eyes cast down on the floor.

Lizzy could see how nervous Thorin's presence was making the Dwarf-girl and she needed to get changed anyway. "And on that note, you can get out," she ordered him, pointing to the door leading to his own room.

Thorin gave her a withering look at her demand and stalked into his suite without another word, making Lizzy smirk. "Amma, I'll just be a second," she told the girl, still trying to be as friendly as possible.

"I – um, I met your companion, the little man," Amma said, reaching behind her and revealing her rucksack, bow and quiver of arrows and fleece. "He asked me to give you these."

Lizzy thanked her, fervently grateful that she could don fresh underwear and a bra from her pack as opposed to walking around the fortress commando. She left Amma still hovering awkwardly by the door and quickly got dressed. The leggings and tunic were both slightly too big for her, but a belt cinched tight around the waist stopped things from falling down.

"Right, nearly ready," she said with a smile, emerging from the bedroom and throwing herself down into one of the seats to lace up the shoes. "See you later, Thorin!" she hollared in the direction of the door to his room but received no reply – not that she had really been expecting one, she thought as she joined Amma in the corridor.

"Are - are you and King Thorin -"

"... Yes?" Lizzy prompted, since Amma had started a question and then abruptly cut herself off.

"Nothing, my lady," the girl replied demurely.

"Please, call me Lizzy," she insisted, reminded of when she had first met Fili and Kili and they had kept calling her my lady.

They reached a fork at the end of the corridor where the guest wing was situated and Amma hesitated. "Is there anything in particular that you would like to see first?"

Lizzy thought for a moment. After travelling for so long with a group of Dwarves she had become immensely interested in their culture, though she knew that she had only seen the microcosm of their society within the members of the company. "Well, this is my first time in Dwarf-halls … do you guys do things like mining and forging here?"

"Of course," Amma replied, seemingly surprised that she had requested to see such things. "I believe me brother said he was going down to the forges. Follow me, my lady."


Lothi had indeed gone down to the forges after leaving his wife organising Lady Elizabeth's room with his mother and sister. After the events of that morning he found himself in need of new armour and since he didn't fancy the dive into the icy mountain meltwaters to retrieve his breastplate he would be forced to forge a new one. However, there were some benefits to this: not only could he adjust the style, adding some chain mail around the neck and arms for ease of movement, he had decided to take his son with him to teach him some of the basics of the craft.

As it was, he was not able to get very much actual smithing done, despite the forge being largely deserted with the only other occupant being Davlin, the old smith and a good friend of Lothi's. Raes was far more interested in actually taking part in the forging process as opposed to observing as he was meant to be doing, and so he had decided to show his son how to make simple chainmail links, much to Davlin's amusement.

He had very carefully supervised and assisted his son in pumping the bellows, heating the raw iron until it was red hot. They had then removed it from the fire and pulled it through a gauge, turning it into a wire of medium thickness. Raes himself cut it into smaller pieces, though many of them were slightly different lengths, and Lothi helped him twist them into almost complete circles. These were then cooled in a water barrel, with Raes very much enjoying the hissing and spluttering steam as the hot metal was submerged.

They were in the process of linking the small circles of metal together and riveting them shut when they were interrupted. Lothi was surprised to see his sister entering the forge, followed by the Lady Elizabeth, who was now wearing simple Dwarvish clothes and looking curiously around her. Amma smiled at him, though knowing of his sisters natural shyness he could see her unease in being coerced by their mother into giving the human woman a tour.

Raes noticed his aunts presence and leapt to his feet. "Aunt Amma, look what I made!" he said, proudly presenting the small patch of interlinked rings to the two women. "It's my first forging!"

Lothi was doing his best to hide his pride. A first forging was usually a big event in a young Dwarves life, normally taking the form of a dagger or tool and marking the entrance from childhood to boyhood. Since Lothi himself had done the vast majority of the work these small rings couldn't really count as Raes's proper first forging, but he felt like a satisfied father nevertheless.

Lady Elizabeth knelt down and looked at the rings. "He did these himself?" she asked, surprised and impressed.

"Yes, Lady Lizbet," Raes answered, completely butchering her name in the process; meanwhile at the same time Lothi grinned at her and said, "Mostly, my lady."

She was smiling too. "Please, call me Lizzy," she said with friendly ease.

Raes gave her a toothy grin, clearly pleased with how impressed she was by his work. "Lady Lizzy," he repeated happily, managing that pronunciation far better.

Having heard the new voices, Davlin came over from behind the bellows to investigate. "Master Davlin,I hope you don't mind the intrusion, Lady Elizabeth expressed an interest in seeing one of the forges," Amma said politely; she had known Davlin for years and so was very comfortable with the old smith, unlike with most others.

"Think nothing of it, my girl, it's not every day that I see two such pretty faces in my forge," the smith said, smiling behind his great black beard before turning his gaze to curiously look at the human woman. "So you are the Lady Elizabeth. Young Lothi here has been telling me how you saved his life, singing your praises to the sky." Elizabeth gave a modest grin at this and the smith continued. "Is this your first time in a forge?"

"Yes, I am quite curious to see how everything works," she said, glancing curiously around at the bellows and tools.

"Well, don't just stand there, my girl," he said amicably, flapping his arms and guiding her over to the workbench. The smith was notoriously friendly towards people he liked and grumpy to others who came in with requests and commissions: apparently the Lady Elizabeth's actions and Lothi's words of praise had been enough for Davlin to decide that she was worth his time. "The best way to observe is to take part, now this here is a wrench ..."


After a hasty wash Thorin had re-donned his armour and tunic and headed down to the water-gate. A spring that became the tributary for the forest-river started deep within the mountain and was carefully directed with ducts down to this gate, with a clever system of funnels and pipes swelling it with meltwater from the side of the mountain. The result by the time it reached the large water-gate chamber was an artificial channel that ran clear through the vast, cavernous chamber, about two fathoms wide and a fathom deep, deep enough to support small vessels before they were sent out through the gate. There was also a deep pool containing several boats, an artificial harbour that could be connected to the channel with just the turning of a lever.

He met with Lothar and was introduced to the boatswain, quickly detailing what he required. The old Dwarf was hunched and seemed to rival Oin for being hard of hearing, but he nodded along to Thorin's requests nevertheless. Most of the boats were kept in an adjoining storage chamber, with the harbour being too small to contain them all, and the boatswain led them through to examine potential vessels. Thorin's attention was caught by a simple boat of medium size that could comfortably seat five, possibly six at a pinch.

The boatswain noticed the line of his gaze and shook his head. "Too big," he said, continuing down to the smaller boats.

"Would a smaller amount of larger boats not be better?" Thorin put to him.

He shook his head, leading him to a collection of small, simple rowing boats that were barely big enough for three. "Some of the river that you will have to navigate will be narrow, the bigger boats are harder to manoeuvre." He waved his hand at the narrow boats, clearly firm in his opinion on this. "Two to a boat."

"Two?" Thorin repeated with mild incredulity: with a company of fifteen that would give them at least eight boats to manage, a far larger number than he had been hoping for. "These boats can carry more than two."

"Two," the boatswain said firmly. "You will need provisions. You should not drink any water that you find in Mirkwood, even if it has been boiled first. With boats this size a water-barrel can fit in each boat," he finished, indicating the storage areas in the bow and stern of the small vessels.

Remembering Beorn's words, Thorin decided to yield to the Dwarves wisdom on this. "Very well, we will take them."


Amma stood in the corner of the forge near to the door, instinctively trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Since all the equipment to make chainmail was out Davlin was showing the human woman the process, eagerly assisted by Raes. Her nephew now apparently considered himself an expert on forging after a single afternoon spent with his father.

Lothi left them to it and wandered over to join her, keeping one careful eye on Raes as Davlin supervised the handling of the hot metal.

"She wanted to see the forge?" he asked quietly.

"The forge and the mines," Amma clarified with a slight nod, glancing at her brother. "I believe mother expected me to be taking her to the weavers and possibly the market stalls."

"What do you make of her?" he questioned.

Amma tilted her head to one side, thinking for a moment. "She is … unusual. Very friendly and talkative, but strange too," she replied. In fact it had been nice not having to talk much on their way down to the forge, with the human woman voicing what appeared to be her every thought running through her mind as they walked. "You may have been right about her and King Thorin," she added softly: when he had come to find both her and her mother to organise rooms he had mentioned his suspicion that the two of them had an understanding of sorts, an idea that their mother had vehemently rejected.

"Oh?" Lothi said, raising his brows.

"When I came to give her the tour he was in her room," she whispered, careful not to be overheard by the woman in question.

Lothi grinned at her. "Tsk tsk, spreading rumours, Amma?" he tutted.

Amma's eyes widened and she felt a sudden flush of guilt, wondering if she should have held her tongue and thankful that she hadn't revealed any further information, like the woman's state of dress upon her arrival. "I do not mean to be a gossip!"

Her brother laughed and threw an arm around her shoulder. "I was teasing you, sister dear."

His playfulness coaxed a small smile to her lips. They fell into silence and spent some minutes observing the unusual trio by the bellows. It was strange seeing such a tall woman, she must have been slightly over five foot and had several inches extra height on the bulky smith, positively towering over Raes. With her distracted by the smith, Amma took the opportunity to actually look at her properly, without fearfully lowering her gaze. The woman's figure was not what would be considered fashionable by Dwarf standards, being far too slim; the belted tunic she wore showed that she did indeed have curves, only much more slender than the voluptuous Dwarf women. However, her hair was a pretty shade of gold and she had bright eyes.

"I confess, I am relieved," she said softly to her brother, breaking the silence.

"Relieved?" Lothi repeated.

Amma measured her words carefully, thinking of the best way to convey her meaning. "When you left earlier mother suggested that I take every possible opportunity to capture King Thorin's attention during his visit, which I believe is why she asked me to give his – his friend a tour," she glanced up at Lothi, who was looking thoughtful. "I am relieved that his attention has already been caught elsewhere."

He smiled at this, "So you have no desire to catch the eye of a king?"

Amma shook her head. "None whatsoever," she said firmly remembering the king's darkly scowling face. "He seemed very … cold. Stern and intimidating … No, I would not like that."

"Aye, when you marry my new brother better be someone I can share an ale with, someone that actually laughs from time to time," Lothi said, squeezing her shoulder and making Amma blush slightly, remembering a new, unfamiliar laughing face that she had seen in the hall earlier.

They were interrupted by the Lady Elizabeth approaching, holding a small cluster of interlinked rings. Even at a glance Amma could see that some of the rivets were slightly off and the links varied a little in size. "What do you think?"

"Very impressive for a first forging," Lothi said amicably.

The woman grinned. "I think you're just being nice, Raes's is way better than mine," she added, ruffling the hair of the little Dwarfling beside her and making his auburn braids sway and dance.

"My sister was just telling me -" Amma felt a sudden flash of panic, thinking Lothi was going to tell Lady Elizabeth her thoughts on her relationship with the king. "- that you wish to see the mines next."

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble," she said smilingly.

"It is no trouble," Amma replied demurely, gesturing towards the door.

The two women said goodbye to the men in the forge, who gave them promises that they would see them at the feast later. The Lady Elizabeth had not heard anything of the feast yet, so Raes spent a good few minutes detailing all of the wonderful things there would be to eat and staunchly declaring that he wanted to sit next to her – apparently she had been telling him amazing stories from her world while they had been forging and he was eager to hear more.

They eventually extracted themselves from his childish enthusiasm and started down towards the mines. "This way, my lady," Amma said as they reached a crossing of corridors.

"Please, call me Lizzy," she reiterated once more. "If we are going to be friends then I'd prefer it if you dropped this my lady nonsense."

Amma nearly halted in her tracks. She had her family, being very close to both her brother and enjoying spending time with her little nephew, but she had no proper friends of her own in the fortress, certainly no female friends. As the Lord's daughter she was thought of as nobility, separate from the weavers and domestics. She also knew that many considered her to be proud since her shyness stopped her from talking much – she was not an easy conversationalist and had always worried that people would not welcome her company.

"You … you wish to be my friend?" she asked, stunned. She had seen the easy, cheerful conversations among the maids and the camaraderie of the serving girls, but had never really shared those friendly intimacies with another woman. She had Ristil, her sister by marriage, who she was very amicable with, but she was largely occupied in looking after Raes and her own household duties.

"Of course," the Lady Elizabeth said breezily.

"Oh ...Very well then," Amma said softly, hiding a small smile by ducking her chin. A warm feeling of pleasure was welling in her chest at the thought of actually having a friend – even in this strange, human woman, but a new friend nevertheless.


******IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE*****

As I have mentioned a few times on the bottom of chapters, I am going travelling soon – off the Australia in 8 days! Now guys, I am afraid that means updates may become slightly more sporadic :( This story is by no means abandoned, but I might not be able to manage weekly updates any more … just wanted to give you a heads up.

Also, just want to take this moment to say a MASSIVE thank you to all you lovely reviewers and mindblowing amount of followers – you guys are amazing! :D

(Less important authors note, my questions and stuff!)

Now, one astute guest reviewer mentioned that Nain is Dain's father, not his mother – I am aware of this, but it is a cheeky bit of artistic licence on my part. In my headcanon children join their father's clan, so Dain is an Ironfist from his father and part of the ruling line of Durin from his Longbeard mother. I am imagining some sort of political marriage, in which Lady Nain (bit of a feminine name, I think) was encouraged to marry the head of the Ironfist clan in order to improve relations, and Dain was the result.

This weeks question … what did you guys think of the new trailer?!

As always, reviews are welcome and you can follow any updates, sneak peeks and ask questions on my tumblr ~kindle-the-stars