Note: I don't seem to be getting any reads/reviews for the previous chapter. Have you lost interest in the story, my darlings, or there was no notification for it? Either is fine, I'm just checking :) If this story is boring you, I can always start a new one, since the point of FF is a shared enjoyment. I have a couple of ideas (Middle Earth and modern) for these two. We can always switch ;)

Love you,

K. xx


When Thorin entered the Grandstand, Dis and Fili were already there, and some sort of commotion surrounded his little bookkeeper. She stood taut, and her face set in one of those haughty grimaces of hers. Many moons ago when she had been nothing but a child of Men to him he learnt such was her mask when she was uneasy. Dis was fretting, he understood. Fili was smiling softly as if apologising for his Mother.

"Please, you have to sit with us." Dis' voice rang. Then she stepped closer to the bookkeeper, and the latter twitched as if planning to jump aside and to shield herself with a chair that Dis was pointing at.

"Uncle," Fili greeted warmly. "Mother is terrifying Master Eorwyn." He chuckled.

"Brother, tell our guest to sit with us! She's trying to hide in the back row." Dis waved her hands in the air. "She won't see much from there."

Thorin lifted an eyebrow. It was quite obvious what Dis had in mind: the tallest chair on the best spot was obviously for him. Dis was to sit near him, next was Kili, and then an empty chair was waiting for his bookkeeper. Fili was to sit to her left, locking her in place - next to Kili. Thorin thought back at his own ridiculous jesting this morning. He'd been simply teasing his little hen. Now? The joke seemed hardly entertaining.

"I assumed Master Eorwyn's seat was near Balin," Thorin said. "Next to Dwalin."

"Nonsense!" Dis huffed. "Surely, Master Eorwyn would prefer to actually see some of the contestants, so I say–"

"I say, Master Eorwyn chooses her own spot," Thorin interrupted sharply.

He wanted her to sit with him. He wanted to catch the smell of her perfume, to discuss the games they'd watch with her, to see her pick at the food he'd ordered for while they sat in the stand. He hadn't seen her for just a few hours, but he missed her terribly.

"Master Eorwyn, surely you'll be more comfortable in the first row." Dis apparently wouldn't give up that easily. She gave Eorwyn a coy smile.

At that moment Kili walked into the stand.

"Ah, Master Eorwyn! We meet again," he said with a short laugh. "I've put aside some of those arrows we've discussed."

Thorin sharply turned and looked at the bookkeeper. Her cheeks seemed to be burning, and he saw her clench her fists.

"Come on, sit with me!" Kili was all smiles. "I see Mother is shamefully usurping you! It's no use fighting it. Just do as she says."

Eorwyn's eyes widened, and she threw Thorin an anxious look. He felt irritated. She was supposed to speak up for herself!

"Perhaps, Master Eorwyn–" Fili started, and Thorin snapped.

"Or you can sit with me," he as much as barked.

He simply didn't know what came over him! They'd just discussed being discreet, and here he was barging in. He could hear himself how abrupt his tone was. Everyone looked at him, expressions varying from confused to - in her case - as much as panicked.

"Sit with me, Master Eorwyn." He cursed internally. What was he doing?! Anger bubbled up even more, and he added insult to injury. "And you, Dis, can either take the spot between your sons, or go join Dwalin."

Dis blanched. Thorin felt only more irked. What did the woman expect? It had been impossible to miss her infatuated looks and maudlin sighs.

The bookkeeper dashed to the second largest chair and quickly sat down. He had gotten what he wanted, she was now sitting with him - but obviously now his mood had been spoilt. He stomped to his chair.

At that moment Dwalin, Balin, and Gloin joined them and took the seats in the second row. And then Fili sat next to Eorwyn, and Kili sat near him - leaving their Mother stranded, with the choice of sitting on the very end, which she hated, or joining the sons of Fundin in the second row. Dis plopped onto the chair next to Kili, her lips pursed and eyes shooting daggers.

His nephews immediately started a lively conversation around Mistress Mina, the famous wrestler and dagger thrower. The woman, apparently, was of the beauty only comparable to that of Lady Ulla, the legendary warrior in the court of Thorin I. Thorin kept his eyes trained on the grounds underneath, where the last preparations before the fights were almost complete. The bookkeeper sat utterly still near him, hardly breathing it seemed. That made his mood even more foul.

"Oi, little bee!" Dwalin's voice came from behind them, and she turned around.

Thorin saw a small smile tremble on her lips.

"Master Dwalin," she greeted him, and then looked at his brother. "Master Balin."

"Master Eorwyn, it's such a joy to see you join us. I hope you enjoy the festivities."

Thorin ground his teeth. The old man was surely full of niceties today. And what was this about a 'little bee?' It seemed she was familiar and friendly with all of them - while sitting as far as possible from him on her chair. She probably would have moved it even further, had it been lighter.

"So, you watched archery. Your favourite, if I recall correctly," he said to her. His voice came out darker and more venomous than he intended.

She pressed her head into her shoulders.

"It hadn't yet started when we went to the range," she said hardly audibly.

"We've seen the new arrows from Master Hervór's shop, though," Kili cut in.

We?!

Thorin noted the 'we' and looked at his nephew. The boy seemed to be in rather high spirits. He was already chewing, grinning from ear to ear - and then the prince met Eorwyn's eyes and gave her a wink.

"Like I said, I've put some aside for you. I'll bring them to the range when we meet to train," he said to her.

"I'd hate to lose or break one of them," she said meekly. "They are too good for my clumsy hands. I'll bring some of the old ones I told you about, the ones from Esgaroth."

They were both leaning ahead, talking to each other over Fili's head. Thorin squeezed the mug in his fist.

"Why don't you switch spots with me, you dimwit?" Fili said. He clapped his hand to Kili's shoulder and gave him a push.

"Aye, Kili, you're being rude," Dis chimed in, apparently having recovered her dignity - and her eagerness.

Thorin clenched his jaw.

"Nah, I need to see Master Balin about something," Kili announced, jumped to his feet, and gave Fili an equally boisterous smack to the shoulder. "You entertain our guest. I've heard she's fond of blondes."

Fili guffawed, but his idiotic grin fell when he saw her face. She looked mortified.

"Pardon my brother, Master Eorwyn," Fili said. "He'd been dropped on his head as a youngling. Repeatedly."

She laughed and seemingly relaxed in her chair.

"Have some food," Fili added. "Are you fond of Dwarven cuisine? I know you're now an Erebor dweller, but perhaps it's too flavourful."

"I enjoy the savoury dishes," she said. "And the breads."

"Not a sweet tooth, are you?" Fili asked and put down the tray with sweets he'd raised to her.

She shook her head. "Not particularly. I quite enjoy the sweet currant bread, though."

Thorin picked up his mug again and took a large gulp of his ale. Were there any more of her intimate secrets she was intending to share with his nephews? He, Thorin knew she slept on her side, one fist pushed under her cheek. Was she planning to discuss that with Fili as well?

And what was about her fancying blondes? Did Kili know something Thorin didn't? That boy she'd been in association with all those months ago - was he blonde? Thorin couldn't recall.

Fili and the bookkeeper were now engaged in watching the first axe throwers in the arena. She obviously knew nothing of the craft, Fili was only happy to educate her. He was pointing, explaining, and she listened to him intently, her eyes widened, and lips softly parted. Fili's voice was growing louder and more and more enthusiastic. Clearly, the greenhorn was flattered by the attention.

At some point something surprising happened on the arena - Thorin was pretending to watch the one nearby, with wrestlers warming up - and she gasped and grabbed Fili's upper arm. He looked at her surprised, and she jerked her hand away from him, muttering something, probably one of her usual apologies. And then he covered her hand on the railing with his palm and patted it.

In the second row Kili burst into loud laughter. Thorin looked over his shoulder, and saw the cad and Old Balin whispering conspiratorial to each other and throwing glances, it seemed, at Fili and the bookkeeper.

Thorin was about reaching the end of his patience, when one of the axe throwers called to them from the grounds, and Fili excused himself. He walked out of the stand, and Dis rose from her seat. If she thought anyone believed her pretending to be after the cheese pastries and not the company of a certain Dwarf near Balin, she was cruelly mistaken.

"I learnt a new word today."

He whipped his head and looked at the bookkeeper. For a second he doubted the whisper had come from her, she sat so straight and her face was so composed. Her eyes followed the wrestlers.

And then she slowly turned and met his eyes.

"Lanasâl."

Her red lips wrapped around the endearment, and he wondered if she knew how inappropriate the term was. And then he saw her tongue dart and wet the lips - he suddenly remembered them greedily dance on his throat - and he understood she knew exactly how indecent it was.