The men walked ahead, and the needlemaster was clearly stalling. She held Eorwyn's arm tightly, not allowing her to escape.

"Are you enjoying the Games?" Eorwyn squeaked.

The needlemaster's dark eyes were on the King's back. She seemed to be making sure that there was enough distance between them. Eorwyn swallowed with difficulty.

"Princess Dis visited my shop yesterday," Mistress Algun finally spoke. Eorwyn twitched in her tight grasp. "She asked for my opinion on you," the raven haired woman said.

"Oh," was all Eorwyn managed to answer.

"You see, Master Eorwyn–" Mistress Algun sighed and continued, "I wouldn't have involved myself in this matter, but in a way I feel that I am involved in it." She gave Eorwyn an apologetic glance. "The Princess has had little interaction with Men, as she explained to me, and she was wondering what I knew of you, and of your previous personal history. She told me she'd found out about your previous association with Amri, son of Aín. She was… hopeful."

Algun tucked a long black strand behind her ear in an agitated gesture.

"Please, forgive me, I am overstepping, and I know I am, but I just wish– I wish to be your friend!" the needlemaster suddenly blurted out and stared into Eorwyn's eyes. "I feel we could be wonderful friends! Although I am worried I am ruining all my chances at the moment, by barging into your private matters..."

"I don't understand," Eorwyn muttered, utterly confused.

"Oh Mahal help me, I'm making quite a jumble out of it, am I not?" Algun gave out a nervous laugh. "Since I have interacted with you through the fittings of your dresses, Princess Dis felt I'd know what sort of a person you are. And I am a Blacklock, we do trade with Men, so she wanted to know what I knew of customs and traditions of your kind… regarding romantic associations."

Eorwyn held her breath.

"And since she involved me, I don't feel like it is completely out of the question that I should speak to you," Algun continued in an increasingly anxious tone. "And then you mentioned the familial nickname the King had given you– and I do feel–"

The King looked at them over his shoulder, and the needlemaster noticed and whispered frantically, "I have to haste! Here goes nothing. Master Eorwyn, I think you have to know something." She peered into Eorwyn's face. "Mahal help me, I'm so putting my foot in my mouth. Alright… I think you don't realise that Princess Dis is intending to approach you with your possible marriage to Prince Kili."

At that moment, Eorwyn thought, the needlemaster expected a gasp, or even an exclamation of sorts, and definitely a shocked expression - but definitely didn't expect the loud hysterical laughter that burst out of Eorwyn and made her bend in half in a few seconds and press her arms to her stomach.

Clearly, the morning had been quite too much for Eorwyn.

"Master Eorwyn?" The needlemaster sounded lost.

"Give me a jiffy," Eorwyn rasped out between more and more laughs. "I just need... a moment. Just one– Maiar help me, I can't breathe..."

"Are you–" Mistress Algun started, and then Eorwyn saw that her inappropriate frolics had caught the attention of the King and his nephews.

Eorwyn pulled at Mistress Algun's arm, and they stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the Grandstand. The King caught Eorwyn's eyes and she gave him a small nod encouraging him to proceed up.

She turned to the needlemaster. "Mistress Algun… thank you."

"For what?" Mistress Algun's eyebrows jumped up.

"For your… care." Eorwyn smiled at the woman. "For going against your traditions, and for… meddling. Oh please, don't misunderstand me. I am indeed grateful! I know how hard it is for a Dwarf to speak when it feels out of turn. I am not that unaware of your people's customs." Eorwyn chuckled. "And I do wish we were friends as well." She moved closer and impulsively grabbed the needlemaster's hand. "I wish– Oh but there are some circumstances–"

"Aye, there are…" the needlemaster interrupted, "But still!" She squeezed Eorwyn's fingers in return. "Please, know I only wish to stand by you. I just worry, you see."

A light blush coloured the woman's cheeks, and Eorwyn felt deeply touched.

"Thank you. I accept it with all my heart," she answered.

They were now holding each other's hands.

"So, regarding the prince," the needlemaster said, but Eorwyn shook her head.

"Please, worry not, I am aware– Not that it is actually happening, but I am aware that it could be on the princess' mind. And I have educated myself on the Dwarven traditions regarding romance, when Amri–" she trailed away.

"I only wish you no trouble," the needlemaster said. "I said almost nothing to her, but at the beginning I didn't understand why she was asking all those questions, so I am now concerned that I might have divulged too much..."

"Such as?" Eorwyn said with a laugh. "I don't think you have anything to divulge. Except for my pitiful measurements."

The needlemaster emitted a 'pfft' noise. "They aren't pitiful! They are what they are. And apparently they are to some Dwarves' liking." She gave Eorwyn a wink…

…and that reminded the latter about the mentioned above 'circumstances.' After all, there were some aspects to her potential friendship with the needemaster that weren't currently being discussed or known to both sides. Such as Eorwyn having spent the night with the needlemaster's former paramour, who also happened to be the King of a bigoted race the needlemaster belonged to.

Eorwyn carefully pulled her hands out of Mistress Algun's, hoping it still looked amicable.

"Oh Mahal, I'm so relieved," the latter said in a jolly voice. "Perhaps, we should have a meal together later, to make sure we indeed have overcome this awkwardness."

Eorwyn hummed, not expressing any particular emotion. Becoming the needlemaster's friend would be most pleasing, and yet…

"Mistress Algun," the King's voice came from above, and both women lifted their face. "The Games are starting. We're waiting for you… both."

His gaze brushed at Eorwyn's face, but his expression remained distant.

"Well, shall we?" Algun said and laughed again. "Let's sit near the men who aren't actually our darlings–" She stopped herself and shook her head. "I'll explain the jest to you later. Perhaps." She seemed to mostly talk to herself now. "I hope we're close enough soon for me to explain..."

Eorwyn sighed. Not only did she understand the jest, she also knew that the needlemaster was wrong: one of the men on the Stand was in actually Eorwyn's 'darling.'


Eorwyn walked into the Stand and took her seat. Kili, Fili, and Mistress Algun stayed in the back row, chatting with Dwalin and Gloin. Lord Balin was nowhere to be seen.

"A pastry?" The King's low voice made her turn and look at the platter he held out to her.

The corner of his mouth was turned up - but only slightly, surely unnoticeable to others. Eorwyn was surprised to realise that all her nerves from earlier were now gone. Perhaps, finally voicing out - although, perhaps, not in the most civil manner - her anguish surrounding being in public with him, and being approached by both princes, and his sister's matchmaking attempts had put her at ease.

She picked up a delicious looking triangle of flaky pastry and bit into it. It had a liver and buckwheat filling. She hummed in pleasure. She'd found out the flavours were to her liking the night before during the improvised picnic with the King on his bed. To think of it, that was perhaps why the pockets had been ordered in the first place. She threw him a side glance, popped the rest of the pastry in her mouth, and picked up the second one. He chuckled.

"You've got quite an appetite, Master Eorwyn," he rumbled.

Her first thought was that he needed to restrain himself. That had sounded rather flirtatious and even sensual. But then she remembered that even long ago, before they became anything rather than just friends, their conversations had been full of banter and teasing. If the same manner remained between them, no one would think twice of it. It had mostly been coming from him - but at this moment, she suddenly realised she was feeling much, much less reverent towards him. He was still her King and she had all respect towards him - but she also knew that he was ticklish, that he made funny snorting noises when waking up, and that he was an incorrigible sweet tooth. It made her adore him endlessly - but he was so much less intimidating now!

"I hardly slept last night," she said most casually, "I need to replenish my strength."

The King froze with his mug almost to his lips. He looked at her askance, and Eorwyn felt most mischievous.

"To think of it, I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight either," she sing-songed and stretched to the platter. It was placed on a bench in front of him. Her hand brushed at his knee - not at all accidentally - and he jerked. Eorwyn giggled, sat back in her seat, and started chewing.

"Minx," he muttered under his breath, and she grinned, her eyes on the arena.