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/Crack the Plates/

The dwarves of Erebor were once again treated to the unusual sight of people running through the city, but, this time, it was Lady Sam, Lord Balin, and Kings Thorin, Thranduil, and Bard (who was easily keeping up with Sam, but kept falling behind when he started making faces at Thorin, Balin, and Thranduil, two of which laughed at him, Sam just rolling her eyes) who were running like crazy people through the crowds.

Needless to say this was more than a little odd, especially in the eyes of the visiting dignitaries, who, while looking through the markets for items they wanted to trade for, watched them, completely confused and wondering if they should be concerned.

Dis, on the other hand, simply laughed at the odd spectacle and pointed it out to everyone she was leading around in a tour of Erebor, namely Beorn, the wizards, hobbits, elves of Loth Lorien, and Rivendell, who all stared for a good few minuted before erupting into giggles and smiles, able to see all of the resulting insanity from their vantage point on an upper walkway, even as they wondered what had them all running towards the gates.

/That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates/

"Nimmy!"

Sam saw the tall, very familiar form of her favorite former hermit in profile against the sun, milling next to Goliath (larger than his siblings and so dark a shade of brown that he looked black, his voice deep and rumbling), Doubica, and Hercules as the three rough housed together for the first time in months, rolling around in the dirt, talking, and barking at each other and generally making all of the guards in the vicinity nervous.

Although they were nervous every time Doubica and Hercules wandered through Erebor, talking to dwarves and just generally checking the place out, even though they never caused any trouble and many of the dwarves they had met (especially the children) were rather fond of the great fuzzy and friendly beasts.

Nim turned at the sound of Sam calling his name and did not have any chance to say or do anything before she tackled him with a hug, and they both went down, a cloud of dust surrounding them as they laughed and rolled around, Nimrohir returning Sam's hug with equal ferocity.

The small, but genuine smile on Nim's face, however, disappeared as soon as Thorin, Balin, Thranduil, and Bard came into view as he was helping Sam up, the two friends dusting each other off as the others continued to approach, though none of them noticed, as they were all more than a little confused by his appearance.

Nimrohir had dirty blonde hair (which had only a few simple braids in it, some beads dispersed throughout them) hanging straight down to the middle of his back and framing his face, was the same height as Bard, was thin and lanky with defined muscle, had a slightly large nose, high cheek bones, a prominent chin, and had green apple colored eyes, none of which were terribly odd or unique traits, but what confused the three kings and Balin so much was the fact that he had pointed ears, some very bristly dirty blonde mutton chops on his cheeks, and a very light, as in almost not there, blonde beard on the rest of his face.

The thoughts running through their minds, as Sam looked between Nim and the others (her expression chagrinned, because she had almost forgotten how much Nim disliked Thorin) consisted of:

He has pointy ears, so he must be an elf...but elves don't have beards...his beard looks like a dwarf's beard...but he is far too tall to be a dwarf...and to short to be an elf...but he isn't a man...

What is Nimrohir?

Sam knew exactly what they were thinking, but it was up to Nim to tell them who, and what, he was. While they were continuing to give Nim a once over, Nim was doing the same to them with a decidedly sour look on his face, Sam gave her friend a once over herself.

Nim was wearing his usual traveling clothes, a look composed of brown leather pants with extra padding on the joints and inside of the thighs for riding, a cream colored tunic that was slightly open so a dusting of blonde chest hair was visible, an open leather vest, fingerless leather gloves, and his black leather boots, all of which were dusty, but, other than looking a little thin and tired, he looked just as he always had, the current scowl on his face similar to the one he had had when Sam first met him. His favorite green cloak was also around his shoulders, and by the looks of it, Persi had made sure that Nim's clothes never got too worn while they were traveling, a good thing considering he had never learned how to properly care for his clothes besides the basics of repairs.

Nim was not happy to see Thorin Oakenshield, as the younger of the two dwarves before him was obviously the King Under the Mountain, nor was he terribly happy to see King Thranduil, a unpleasant fellow at the best of times (according to his mother), but he was curious about the King of Dale, Bard, though one could not tell from his expression. He trusted neither of the dwarves nor Thranduil because of their actions towards Sam, even though they all seemed to have gained her forgiveness (something she gave too easily, in his opinion), unwilling to trust them not to relapse into their old bad habits.

Nim, however, did have a bit more favorable of an opinion of Balin (who he assumed to be the older dwarf standing beside Thorin, based on Sam's description of him) given all Persi had told him about her husband, and the belief that the fiery dwarrowdam would keep him on the straight and narrow once she arrived. The only thing Nim was terribly happy about at the moment was that Sam was obviously alright, and happy, not having met the cruel fate he had feared she would at the hands of Oakenshield, and that his long journey was over.

But then he wondered where Burb was, his expression growing more grim (not that the four nobles in front of him thought that was possible as they continued to study him), only for the little orc to appear out of the Gates and scurry over to them, although he was nearly bowled over when Goliath decided that was the perfect moment to give him a hello lick. Burb barely regained his balance before Sam was treated to a similar smooch from the biggest of their three wargs, breaking the spell on Balin, Thorin, Thranduil, and Bard in the process when she giggled and gave the big lug a hug before he went back over to his siblings, who were laying on the ground watching them all with their golden eyes (making snarky comments), and plopping back down next to them.

Burb completely ignored everyone but Sam and Nim as he gave a critical once over to his tall friend (Sam and Nim looking at each other before rolling their eyes at their worry wart healer, which he chose to ignore), grinning at Sam then looking up into Nim's face when he was satisfied by his assessment, his grin cheeky as Nim smirked back, the two males clasping arms as Burb said," It is good to see you again my friend, and in one piece no less, with no signs of impending insanity."

"Aye," Sam winked at Nim as she smacked both he and Burb on the back, perching her hands on their shoulders, her grin wide and happy to have them all together again," good to know that Remy didn't drive you crazy by telling all the same stories and jokes over and over again, and that Persi didn't bop you too hard for pointing it out," Sam spoke in a mock conspiratorial voice," even though we all know he does it on purpose."

Nim barked out a rough laugh (which, in the opinion of Pheema, who had just sidled up behind her king to keep an eye on her charge, suited his somewhat rough appearance and apparently grumpy personality perfectly), saying," Oh, hush up you two smart asses," before grabbing his two shorter friends in a hug (their wargs saying "Awwww" at the sight) before the blonde continued, smiling down at them," I am glad to see you two are in good condition too," Sam and Burb eyed each other, but kept smiling, even as Nim's expression darkened again as he looked at those watching them, his voice harsh as he continued," because Mahal knows what I would do to those responsible if you weren't hale and healthy."

Sam and Burb were both now very sure (given the thinly veiled threat Nim had just uttered), as they had not known quite how grumpy Nim would be when he arrived, that it was best to tell Nim of Sam's capture by orcs in a more controlled and isolated setting, lest he beat someone to a pulp (something he was perfectly capable of doing, despite his lanky frame).

It was at this point (as he could hear what Nim said) that Thorin remembered how Sam had described Nimrohir's suspicion of the Company, and felt the need to put him at ease, considering that this individual, no matter what he may be (though he was still trying to figure that out), was important to Sam and Burb," Indeed, the Company and myself owe you and Burb much for keeping Sam safe and helping her while she was away," Nim only nodded at Thorin, his face still sour, which slightly annoyed Thorin because it was disrespectful, especially considering he was a king, but he let it go, especially when Balin nudged him for scowling.

"Aye, we owe you for much," Balin walked forward, his face smiling, a hand held toward Nim, both Sam and Burb moving to stand beside him so Balin could shake his hand, something Nim did with kindness in his eyes that did not show in his expression, already fond of the eldest son of Fundin given his kind and grandfatherly demeanor, something obvious even to him," and I owe you much as well, for watching over both Remy and my dear Persi on the journey from Rhun to here, both Oin and I are indebted to you for it, and we may yet owe you for much," Balin winked at Nim, telling the blonde that the dwarves were aware that assassins were coming to Erebor (Thranduil and Bard had no idea what was going on, and Thorin refused to look at them or give them any quick explanations as to what was going on or what was being discussed).

/Cut the Cloth/

Hope ya'll enjoyed that, despite it's short length. ;)

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