After the first round of wrestling bouts, the King rose and walked out of the Grandstand. He hadn't said a word to her after her flirtatious attempt to impress him with her knowledge of Khuzdul, so Eorwyn assumed she'd overstepped. It only confirmed to Eorwyn that her watching the Games in the Grandstand had been quite an awful idea. She simply couldn't understand why he'd insisted on her sitting with him. Hadn't they discussed that their association was to be kept secret? She'd of course preferred the company of Balin and Dwalin and Gloin, but she could see that lady Dis had had quite different plans, which was just as confusing. Eorwyn couldn't believe the thought but it seemed that the King's jest in the morning… hadn't been fully a jest!

"Would you like to have a small walk with me?" prince Fili said behind her, and she looked at him over her shoulder. "They are showing the weapons that the wrestlers will be using in the next bouts of sparring. Some of them are quite curious."

Eorwyn had no way to refuse politely, so she nodded and got up. They walked down the spiral staircase leading to the grounds.

"And what is your weapon of choice?" His question shook her out of her thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"Your weapon of choice. I presume you've had some training." Sincere interest was written on his face.

Eorwyn blushed.

"I've had none. If you remember, I'd been hiding my identity, but even in the male disguise I spent most of my time working with books and numbers. I'd been a rather decent archer, but as I told you brother just now, my hands have been injured." Eorwyn sighed. "I'm afraid I'm quite useless when it comes to defending my life."

"Thankfully you don't have to," he said lightly. "The walls of Erebor will protect you."

His face then lit up with some sort of an idea, and Eorwyn tensed. He had exactly the same expression as his brother a few minutes ago.

"I should train you!" he announced, and Eorwyn suppressed another sigh. She'd been right, it seems. He had the same idea. "I've been wounded as well, as you can see." He was limping, she had noticed of course, but she knew he was healing well. "So I train twice as much as before. And you should too! We can turn you into a mighty warrior just in a few moons!"

Eorwyn couldn't say the prospect attracted her.

"Have a look around," he continued to press. "Look at the weapons the craftsmen are displaying. Maybe something catches your eye. An axe or a staff. Oh! Perhaps a light mace? I myself prefer blades, but perhaps we can find the right balance between the weight and the velocity for you, and–"

He continued rattling, Eorwyn nodded politely while pretending to look at the weapons. To be honest, his brother's offer to shoot at the range with her 'every other day' - though somewhat excessively eager - seemed like a better option.

"–and I remember the weapons of the Men of Esgaroth," he continued, chuckling. "What rubbish they were!" he scoffed. "Heavy, unbalanced! What did Men fight with in the lands where you grew up?"

"They were merchants, fur traders. Some trained in archery, like me, but in most cases mercenaries were hired, to protect the companies on the road."

Eorwyn didn't want to speak of it. The anguish of seeing her past embodied in the Man currently locked up in a warehouse in Dale was still fresh on her mind - and lay heavily on her heart. The night before the King assured her she needed not to worry. She was grateful. All she wanted was to forget and to go on with her life.

"Master Fili!" a young voice rang a few rows away from them. They were walking between benches of smiths and blademasters, placed in a large circle around the arena.

Eorwyn saw a young girl approach. She was utterly charming, with honey coloured thick curls bouncing around her face. She wore the apron of the apprentice of the meadmakers guild.

"Oh… morning," the prince muttered, and Eorwyn threw him a curious look.

Apparently the heir of Durin blushed. Though blonde, he had a ginger beard. So, just like her, he had pale skin, which meant it coloured easily. To think of it, his Uncle blushed too - his cheekbones flamed up, to be precise. Eorwyn felt heat lick under her collar at the memories exactly what sort of activities and... positions could produce such an effect.

"Master Eorwyn, allow me to introduce you to Mistress Billa, daughter of Brori. We… spar together."

Apparently, not only he blushed, he also was capable of stuttering and muttering. Eorwyn's mood immediately improved. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one who was awkward and tongue-tied around the one she was infatuated with.

"Morning, Master Eorwyn," the girl said with a quick bow, her eyes on prince Fili's face. "Have you heard the latest babble about the King?!"

Fili's eyes shot to Eorwyn.

"Surely, we could discuss–" he started, but Mistress Billa interrupted him.

"His liaison with Mistress Algun has been rekindled! She spent the night in his halls!" The voice of the girl rang excitedly. "Some say it had never ceased and it was her, not lady Turith who'd been seen leaving his rooms before! Others claim that it was the latter! Can you believe it?! But if they both have spent a night in his room–"

"I'm sure Master Eorwyn wouldn't want to listen to all this hearsay," the prince said firmly. "And what a malicious slander! The King would never be so dishonest."

Mistress Billa gave him a pouty look.

"You seemed more than inclined to discuss these rumours to no end yesterday," she pointed out.

The prince blushed even more furiously. It made Eorwyn feel only jollier: so, he was also a gossip. Somehow it seemed to her quite plausible.

"I simply say–" he started stammering.

"You simply say that this is a conversation not worthy of the presence of a High Emissary, and should be reserved to simple apprentices. Be it your way," Mistress Billa jeered, turned on her heel, and marched away.

Eorwyn felt almost sorry for the prince. Cleary, he'd just disappointed his palaver companion. Eorwyn looked at his sour grimace and giggled.

"You have to forgive her," he said bleakly. "She's… quite young."

"It's alright," Eorwyn said merrily. "Shall we look at the weapons?"

Presently, spending the day in the company of the royalty didn't seem as intimidating to her. Just a few minutes ago she had felt out of place. She'd kept reminding herself that she was the Trade Chief of the Kingdom of Men, she had every right to spend a day in the Grandstand with the Erebor royalty - and yet it had still felt rather daunting. Being reminded that said royalty was just beings like her - with silly insecurities and nonsensical pursuits like gossip and trying not to follow one's paramour with one's eyes wherever they went - added a jointy bounce to her step.

"Bah, what are you doing looking at the laughable cudgels?!" prince Kili said approaching them. "Tell me you haven't betrayed our sacred art of archery for the sake of these… logs!"

He waved his left hand above a row of clubs. The Dwarf behind the bench gave him a glare. Kili's right hand was occupied with a large pie, which he kept biting into. The brothers started bickering between themselves, and Eorwyn decided it was her chance to escape and enjoy some solitude. A few minutes of silence alone with her thoughts would be most pleasurable.

She quietly edged away from the princes, who were too engaged to notice, and walked along the row of the guild masters with their creations arranged in front of them on benches and tables. There were enough viewers for her to stay mostly overlooked.

She then saw a cart selling some food, and she idly walked up to it. She wasn't hungry but standing in front of the cart gave her an excuse to turn her back to the crowd.

"Anything I can offer you, my lady?" the merchant asked, and Eorwyn shook her head with a forced smile.

She immediately felt guilty for stopping by - and right after she as much as laughed at herself. What an inconvenient temperament she had - always feeling guilty for the most innocent deeds. To think of it, she'd committed transgressions much graver than pretending to look at the sweet dough twists without intending to purchase any. She'd been having an affaire with the King!

"They are quite good. You should try one," a voice came from behind her.

Eorwyn startled.

"Oh morning," she mumbled to Mistress Algun and then gave out a shaky laugh. "Pardon me, Mistress Algun, people seem to be sneaking up on me all morning today. Perhaps I should start watching over my shoulder." She laughed again. "I'm not hungry, to be honest. Prince FIli has been trying to fatten me up all morning in the Grandstand."

"You've been invited to the Grandstand?" The needlemaster's eyebrows jumped up. "Ah, forgive me, I'm forgetting about your position. Oh, you should have come to me for a better dress! Although, I see you at least wear my creation."

She pointed at Eorwyn's cloak.

"Forgive me, but I can't help myself!" she exclaimed and stepped closer to Eorwyn, who immediately felt tense. "I have to ask. Why chickens? What is the significance?"