A/N: Time to play the 'Will fanfic dot net upload my chapter properly or will it error out when people go to read it?' game! I've been trying to upload my PotC story, too, but the website is refusing to display it? I don't know what's going on :( On the off chance anyone's interested, the PotC fic can be found over on my AO3 under the same username as here~
"Hm…which fruit t' use…I don't want t' use the cranberries since I'm savin' those for Prince Fili." Baylee stood on a stool in the pantry, looking over the shelf where she kept her dried fruits. "I've got plenty o' strawberries, but I don't have anything that goes too well with them…" As she pursed her lips in thought, she glanced further down the shelf, where some fresh fruits and vegetables were separated into baskets. "Ooh, we still have some lemons Will brought us…"
Grinning, she grabbed the jar of dried strawberries as well as the basket of lemons. It was a combination she had never used in her breads before, but remembering how delicious strawberry lemonade was, she had a feeling it would work out in her favor. She carried both into the kitchen, plopping them on the island before going to look in the utensil drawer for the reamer. Finding it, she closed the drawer and returned to her station.
She was in the middle of juicing her third lemon when the door opened and Bofur poked his head in. He smiled when he saw her.
"Mornin', lass," he said, wanting to make sure she knew he was there before coming fully into the room.
"Mornin', Bofur," she chirped, glancing over at him. "Tea water should be ready in a few minutes."
"It seems I'm gettin' better with my timing," he chuckled, heading over to the shelf of mugs. "How'd you sleep?" With a small hop, he climbed onto the counter.
"Like a log, thank Estë. It's been a while since I got sleep that good." She tucked some hair behind her ear, stealing another look at the dwarf only to find his back facing her. "What about you? How'd you sleep?"
Grabbing his favorite mug, he slid back onto the floor. "Also like a log—or, rather, I was first sleepin' like a tree. Then I went an' rolled out o' bed an' that's when I slept like a log." He then shrugged. "I have t' say lass, I know this is a mighty fine inn because even the floor was comfortable t' sleep on."
She cracked up, her brow rising. "I'm glad to hear that," she giggled, "even if the floors aren't meant for sleepin' on." Cutting her fourth and final lemon in half, she proceeded to use the reamer to help squeeze as much juice from the halves as possible.
"Lemons?" he questioned, his head tilting slightly. "What're you going t' do wish those?"
"Well, so far, I've zested them an' juiced them. From here, I'm hopin' to use both in today's fruit bread." She sliced one of the juiced lemon halves into a quarter before nibbling on whatever pulp that remained, enjoying the sour flavor. "I'm…not quite sure how it's going t' turn out, since I'll be making up the recipe as I go along, but should all turn out well, it'll be more o' a cake than bread."
He grabbed a tin of tea, chuckling. "Ooh, someone's feelin' adventurous this morning," he teased. "I'm sure it'll come out delicious, though. You've a knack for makin' delicious things with fruit."
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Let's hope you didn't just jinx me," she joked. She nibbled on another quarter of lemon, watching as he went about prepping his tea. "So…the day after tomorrow, I'll be goin' over to Erebor."
"Oh?" He looked over his shoulder, blinking in surprise. "Why's that, lass?"
"I need t' commission a spear and I wanted t' get some ideas for a birthday present for Will," she explained. "But, ah…since I don't really know the place, I was wondering if you'd be willin' t' come with me?" There was a shy smile on her lips as she watched him.
Bofur felt his cheeks grow a bit warm. "I'd be more than happy t' go with you, lass," he replied, grinning. "What time were you thinkin' of leaving?"
"I'm not sure, to be honest. I have the whole day off."
He nodded in understanding. "Well, if you'd like, we could leave just after breakfast. That'll give us a good, long time t' wander around." Walking over to the hearth, he then let out a small laugh as an idea came to him. "An' if you'd like, I could take you over t' my home for lunch so you can meet Bombur an' Gerdi."
She giggled, her brow rising. "Nori said you might suggest doin' that."
"Nori?" His brow rose as he filled his mug with boiling water.
"Aye. It was actually his idea that I ask you t' come with me. Said it'd be best if I had one o' you lads with me t' show me around an' make sure I didn't get a cheap deal." She crossed the room and climbed onto the counter so she could get a mixing bowl. "I'd love t' stop by your home, by the way. It'll be nice t' finally put a face t' Bombur's name."
"Well, not t' brag or anything, but I can be quite the haggler at times," he grinned. Taking his tea over to the counter, he set it down before beginning to undo his braids.
"Which is good, because I'm not very good at—" She yelped out a curse word as, when she brought down the mixing bowl, she found a large spider staring up at her. Instinctively, she flung the bowl away from her, but in the process, she had forgotten she was up on the counter and tried to take a step back.
Bofur's eyes shot open and he darted forward, catching her just in time; the mixing bowl, however, landed upside down atop the stack of flour sacks near the end of the counter. "A-are you alright, lass?" he asked.
She nodded a bit shakily. "Y-yes…I'm sorry, there w-was a big spider…" Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and she smiled apologetically.
A pitying smile came to his lips, but he couldn't stop himself from chuckling because of how adorable she looked. "Completely understandable, lass," he told her, his voice gentle. He knew he shouldn't have been, but he was surprised by just how light she was; he had to remind himself that humans weren't nearly as dense as dwarves. "I'm just glad that spider waited t' scare you until after someone else came in here. I don't want t' think about what would have happened if someone hadn't been here."
"I wish it hadn't scared me at all." She lightly shook her head. "If I see another one, I'm dousin' the kitchen with peppermint oil."
He laughed, his brow rising. "Peppermint oil? What does that do?"
"Keeps spiders—an' lots o' other pests—out of the place. They don't like the smell o' mint for some reason." She looked up at him only to realize that he was still holding her in his arms.
As if coming to the same realization, he cleared his throat and set her back on her feet; it had taken a great deal of willpower to do such, however. "I-I'll have t' keep that in mind. After our trip through Mirkwood, I'm not the biggest fan o' them anymore, either."
"…I'm afraid t' ask, but why is that?" She brushed the front of her apron off before going to check on the mixing bowl.
"Let's just say there were spiders large enough t' ride." He watched as she shuddered and stuck her tongue out.
"I'm never steppin' foot in that forest, then." Gingerly, she reached over and lifted the mixing bowl up just enough to peek beneath it. As she quickly slammed it back down, she heard Bofur snort.
Walking over, he gently nudged her out of the way. "Here, lass. I'll take care o' it. You just get the door for me."
"Thank you," she said, a bit of embarrassment in her voice. Going to the door, she opened it before looking back at him. She watched as he stood on his tiptoes and flipped the bowl over.
"M-Mahal's beard, you weren't jokin'!" he cried, holding the bowl out at arm's length. Turning, he darted for the door only to start swearing as he ran; the spider was starting to crawl up the side of the bowl. "Stay in there, you eight-legged bugger!"
Baylee couldn't help but giggle as he ran over to the small flowerbed against the stable wall. He flipped the bowl over and shook it, trying to dislodge the spider. When a large, black lump fell down to the ground, Bofur blew a raspberry at it. Upon turning around, he saw Baylee in the doorway and a victorious grin came to his lips.
"There. Now we don't have t' worry about anyone findin' a spider in their bread," he chirped. Making his way back towards the door, he looked into the bowl one more time just to be certain it was truly spider-free. He swiped his hand along the bottom, wiping away the few threads of spider silk that clung to the wood.
"Thank you again for doing that, Bofur," she said as he came up the steps. "I really appreciate it."
"It was no trouble, lass," he replied, smiling as he held the bowl out to her. As she took it, he pointed a playfully stern finger at her. "No more walkin' off o' counters though, you hear?" he chuckled.
Her cheeks flushed again, but she smiled and nodded. "Aye, I promise that won't be happenin' again." Closing the door, she tucked some hair behind her ear and made her way back to the sink. "For all o' that, you're gettin' extra ham with your breakfast."
"Normally, I'd be opposed t' that, but the ham you've been usin' for breakfast the last few days has been extra delicious, so no arguments here." He went to go stand by his tea and returned to undoing his braids.
"Isn't it good?" she grinned. "It's smoked with cherrywood. We have t' order it special from the butcher because his cherrywood-smoked meats go fastest." She tucked some hair behind her ear again before moving to start making the bread.
"I've always been fond o' cherries, so it doesn't surprise me that usin' the wood to smoke stuff tastes good, too," he chuckled. With his braids now undone, he brought a pendant out from beneath his tunic; he pulled it in half, revealing that part of it was a comb. He set his hat on the counter and started to comb through his hair. "Back t' the subject o' Erebor, though…You mentioned that it's goin' t' be yours an' Will's birthday soon. Did you have any ideas about what you might want t' get him?"
She sighed, cracking some eggs into the bowl, taking care to not get any shells in it. "That's the problem. I'm utterly clueless. I'm hopin' that, by wandering around for a bit, I'll be able t' spot something that might appeal t' him. Thankfully, there's still time between now and the middle o' Nárië t' come up with something, so it's not like I'm in a rush…" She glanced over at him only to feel her cheeks grow warm; this was the first time she had seen him with his hair unbraided. 'Nienna help me,' she thought, forcing herself to look back into the bowl. 'Just when I thought he couldn't get more handsome than yesterday…'
"I might have an idea or two for a gift," he said, not noticing how red she was.
"Oh?" Once the eggs were all cracked, she carried the bowl over to the sack of sugar.
"A set o' toymakers chisels." There was a small grin on his lips as, when he peeked over at her, he saw that she was staring at him. "Just an idea," he continued, amusement in his voice. "If you don't end up gettin' them for him, then either Bifur or me will."
"You two are really goin' t' ask him to be a toymaker?"
He nodded, pausing in his combing so he could take a sip of tea. "Aye, we are. He managed t' steal a peek at some o' our toy diagrams a bit ago an' he was quite interested in them; kept askin' us what kinds of wood we used for certain parts, whether we would use a lathe or do it by eye…I know he probably prefers makin' furniture and buildin' houses, but I'd like t' think we're lenient enough o' bosses that we'd let him go for a few days or weeks t' do some bigger projects." He gave her a playful wink, his grin broadening as she giggled.
"I take it the two o' you are going t' be waiting until he's a bit closer t' finishing up work on the building before asking him, then?" Standing on tiptoe, she grabbed one of the smaller mugs from the shelf; just in case, she peeked into it before using it to scoop sugar into the bowl.
"That's the plan, aye." Resuming his combing, he watched as Baylee carried the bowl back to the island. She grabbed a strange utensil that was made from copper and had many wires protruding from the handle, each tipped with a round, copper ball. "An' with how quickly things are goin' in the shop, that's going t' be sooner than we anticipated. Admittedly, we didn't expect him t' know as many craftsmen as he does, so that was a pleasantly unexpected surprise."
Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she started to whisk the sugar and eggs together. "Oh, aye—if ever you need somethin' fixed that Will or papa can't do, both know just who t' point you towards," she chuckled. She picked up the bowl of lemon juice and poured a bit of it in while continuing to whisk.
"Well, with your brother bein' a woodworker and you da' being a smith, something tells me there's not much they can't fix between the two o' them," he joked. Hearing the door creak open, he glanced over only to have his smile fade into a frown.
"Good mornin', Rán," Baylee smiled. "Water's nice an' hot for tea."
"And good morning to you as well, Lady Baylee," Rán said, stepping into the kitchen. Spotting Bofur, he kept a neutral expression on his face. "And to you, too, Master Bofur."
"Mornin'," Bofur replied, pretending to be distracted by a non-existent knot in his hair.
The ranger crossed the room, grabbing his usual mug from the shelf. "What is it that you are making this morning?" he questioned upon hearing her whisking. Normally, she'd be kneading bread by now.
"A strawberry lemonade loaf," she replied, adding a bit more lemon juice to the mixture. After doing such, she tucked the same lock of hair behind her ear again; she had forgotten to put on her cuff, so there wasn't much there to hold the hair in place. "Or, at least, that's what I'm hoping it'll be. This is my first time making it."
"I am positive it will come out delicious," Rán told her. "I have yet to be disappointed by any of the bread you have made." Grabbing a tin of tea, he moved to get himself a tea strainer. "And it is quite hard to go wrong with the combination of strawberries and lemons."
"It's hard t' go wrong with lemons in general," she joked. "But lemons are one o' my favorite fruits, so I might be a wee bit biased there."
"So that's why you were nibblin' on those lemon wedges earlier," Bofur chuckled. He sectioned out half his hair into thirds so he could start braiding.
She nodded, surprised he had caught her doing that. "Aye…Will had brought me a basketful o' them when he came back from Dorwinion. I'm afraid these are the last o' them, though." Picking up the bowl, she carried it over to the counter near Rán and Bofur so she could begin adding flour to it.
"Have you ever had preserved lemons?" Rán questioned.
"I don't think I have. How are they preserved?"
"They are packed in a brine consisting of lemon juice and salt. Some people add herbs and seasonings to the brine to make it more savory."
Her head tilted curiously. "That sounds like it'd be interestin' t' use in cooking, though I'm not sure I'd know any dishes that it'd be good in."
"Almost anything, if I may be honest. Preserved lemons are particularly popular in dishes with fish and chicken, though I have seen them used in sweet dishes such as strawberry-lemon custard."
Bofur hated to admit it, but that sounded quite appetizing. "I'm sure if ever you got ahold o' some, you an' Galiene would be able t' come up with something scrumptious," he told her.
"I agree," Rán said with a small nod. He walked over to the kettle, grabbing a cloth and using it to lift the kettle from the heat.
"You two have a lot o' faith in us, then," she laughed, her brow rising. With what she thought would be enough flour in the bowl, she took it back over to the island. Just in case, however, she went back and filled up a mug with flour, too. "Or rather, in me. Galiene I know could whip up somethin' yummy right away."
Bofur dismissively waved the end of his now-finished braid at her. "You sell yourself short, lass. Aye, you may not be as good o' a cook as Galiene, but you're still a damned good cook. I bet if you were put on kitchen duty instead o' hosting duty, you'd quickly become just as good as her."
Her cheeks flushed darkly now and she gave him a small, shy smile. "You've only ever eaten the breakfasts and breads I've made, though. Not other meals."
"If the breakfasts you make are any indication, Lady Baylee, then you do have the potential to become just as good as Lady Galiene," Rán told her, cutting off Bofur before he could even say one syllable. A small grin came to his lips when he saw how red she had turned.
"T-to be fair, they are Galiene's recipes," she told them, once more tucking the lock of hair behind her ear. Now that she knew both Bofur and Rán had crushes on her, she wondered if they had started to give her more compliments or if she simply really hadn't noticed them before. "Bofur, could you toss me that wooden spoon behind you? The one without the holes?"
Twisting around on his stool, he found the spoon she requested and tossed it over to her. "There you go, lass," he smiled. As she caught it and started to stir the batter around, he chuckled. "You're gettin' better with throwin' things around."
"Me, Wenna, an' Gawen may have started tossing everything around when Galiene an' auntie aren't lookin'," she said with a mischievous smile. "We don't toss knives, though—none o' us are confident enough for that."
"How is your aunt doing, by the way?" Rán then asked. With his tea in hand, he moved to go steal a peek into her bowl. "I have not seen her since the morning before yesterday."
A small laugh left her mouth. "Be glad for that, because she's been extremely grumpy. Like me, she can't really stand sittin' still for too long, but since she can't get up an' walk around…" Seeing that the batter was a little looser than she would have liked, she sprinkled in a bit more flour and stirred it in.
Bofur nodded in understanding. "She's goin' stir crazy an' she's only been down an' out for a single day," he chuckled. "Does she have any hobbies she can do while sittin' down?"
"She embroiders. Will taught her, but she's not quite as good as him yet. She's catchin' up, though."
Both Rán and Bofur gawked at her. "…Will…embroiders?" Bofur repeated, his brow rising slowly.
"Aye. He picked it up last year when there wasn't much work for him. he got quite good at it." She wore a proud smile. "If he didn't get back into woodworkin', I'm sure the ladies in the sewing district would have hired him on." Yet again, she pushed the hair from her face.
"I must admit, that is not something I would have expected of your brother," Rán said. Seeing the frustration on her face as she pushed her hair back, his brow rose and he glanced over at Bofur, who was still working with his own hair. He set his mug down and, biting back a smirk, walked up behind Baylee. "Here, let me help you," he told her, his voice gentle as he carefully pulled her hair back over her shoulders. "You seem to be getting frustrated with your hair this morning." He sectioned it off before using his fingers to comb through one part.
"A-aye," she answered, trying to not stammer. Her cheeks had grown hot once more, for she knew that Rán adhered to dwarvish customs when it came to hair. "I, ah, forgot t' put on my ear cuff, so th-there's nothing really t' hold the hair back."
He quietly chuckled, his brow rising. "Then it is even better that I am braiding it for you," he stated. "It would just continue being a nuisance for you, especially when you are baking." Glancing at Bofur, he saw that the dwarf's jaw had clenched shut and his eyes were narrowed. He smirked and looked back down at Baylee's hair, though a small look of concern came to his lips when he noticed her torn ear. 'So that is what her cuff is for,' he thought. 'I wonder how she came by such an injury…?'
"Perhaps you should get him a new hoop an' some fancy thread, then," Bofur smiled. It took a great deal of effort to wear the smile, though, as he found himself filling with jealousy at the sight of Rán braiding her hair. "Though, I suppose you can find those easier in Dale than in Erebor…"
"But Erebor has metallic thread," she reminded him. "An' Will's expressed interest in getting some for one o' his projects…So I'll add it t' the list with the toymakin' tools."
Rán's head tilted somewhat. "I take it your birthday is coming up, then?" he questioned.
"Aye, in the middle o' Nárië." She could feel the ranger beginning to do a second braid and she wondered just how many he planned to do. Doing her best to keep her head still for him, she pulled over the jar of dried strawberries. She dumped half the contents into an empty bowl before closing the jar and sprinkling some flour over them.
"Ashailyn's birthday falls during the middle of Nárië, too," Rán smiled. "Though, neither of us is quite sure of the date. I was off on an assignment when she was born." He was braiding the largest section of her hair, doing a simple three-strand braid.
Her brow rose slightly. "Really? Will an' me don't know the date o' ours, either," she said with a small chuckle. "Da' was off in Rohan askin' my grandfather for permission t' marry mum when we were born. Auntie an' Lovisa were panicking too much t' pay attention t' the date until a week later. By that time, they had forgotten what day we arrived on."
He quietly laughed. "It would be amusing if the three of you had been born on the same day…Who is this 'Lovisa' you speak of, though?"
"She's like our adopted aunt; she was our nurse when Will an' I were wee little terrors." After mixing the strawberries around in the flour, she started to sprinkle them into the batter. "I'm goin' t' try and convince her t' come up with us when we return from Laketown. It's been too long since she last visited."
"That'll be nice," Bofur chirped. "You an' Will have told us about her often enough that we're curious t' meet her. It's not every day you get t' meet a half-dwarven huntress, after all. An' from what Will's told us, she's a damned good one, too."
Rán's brow rose at that. "Your former nurse is a half-dwarf?" he questioned.
She nodded, chuckling. "Aye, she is. Her father was the last dwarven smith in Laketown before the Burning." Carefully stirring the strawberries into the batter, she then frowned slightly. "Bofur, can I ask you a favor?"
"O' course, lass."
"See those loaf tins behind me, by the stack o' baking dishes? There should be six o' them?"
"Aye?"
"Could you slather the inside o' three o' them with butter, please?"
"Sure thing!" He beamed as he hopped to his feet and went over to the sink to wash his hands. As he passed by the island, he could see that Rán now wore a small frown, but while that brought him some satisfaction, what angered him was the type of braid he was doing. 'Love-knots?! Really?! I bet she doesn't even know what those are,' he thought, his hands clenching into fists. Reaching the sink, he started to wash his hands. 'At least while he's over there putting love-knots in her hair, I'm being useful. With him taking his sweet time, poor Miss Baylee can't do much, since she can't move…'
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly.
'At least I get to spend the entire day with her soon…that might give me some advantage over him.'
"There…all done." Will rose to his feet and took a step back so he could better admire his handiwork. Though, admittedly, there wasn't much to look at, since he had only replaced a few boards in the floor of the second story. But, to his back's great relief, they had been the last of the boards that needed replaced.
Tucking his mallet back in his belt, he also grabbed his small handsaw and the bits of rotten wood he had removed—at least, the bits large enough to pick up. He knew he'd have to come back with a broom to get the last of that mess picked up. Heading down stairs, he covered his mouth as he yawned.
"How'd it go up there, lad?" Bifur asked. "Didn't hear as much swearin' come from you today."
Will's cheeks turned a bit red as he remembered how, yesterday, he kept accidentally hitting himself with his mallet. "My aim was better today," he chuckled. "An' it went well. The floor's all done, as are the windows. I just need t' sweep up my mess and then I'll be completely done with the upstairs." He then looked over at the front wall, where there was a canvas tarp covering the enormous rectangular hole in it. "Any word on when the wood for the frame should be getting' here?" he then asked.
Bifur shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he sighed. "I can't imagine it'd be too easy, gettin' all that wood here in just a few days, though."
"True, true…I suppose I'm just impatient," he laughed. "I guess I could start on building the shelves, then. I have the wood for those, at least." He followed Bifur into the kitchen, where he set his tools down on the table. Carrying the bits of bad wood outside, he tossed them onto the scrap pile. When he turned to head back inside, he saw Bofur carefully pouring a bit of water into the window box of sunflowers he had made.
"There; I bet you lot were thirsty," the dwarf murmured, not realizing that Will was outside with him. "Sorry I forgot t' water you for a few days an' leaving you in the warm sun…"
In a squeaky, high-pitched voice, Will said, "That's alright, Bofur! We know you've been busy!"
Bofur looked up, his eyes wide in surprise. Seeing that it had just been Will, he let out a small laugh and he cocked his brow. "Since when did you become a ventriloquist, lad?" he asked.
"A ventri-whatta-what now?" He walked over to the dwarf and looked down at the box of sunflowers that had yet to bloom.
"Ventriloquist," he corrected with a snort. "They're a type o' puppeteer who can somehow talk without movin' their mouths, makin' it look like their puppets are doin' the talking."
"Ahh…Well, I assure you, I'm not one o' those." He lightly nudged the window box with his foot. "I know when we can get this installed in Baylee's window, by the way. She'll be goin'—"
"—'T Erebor the day after tomorrow," he finished, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Aye, I know. I'll actually be goin' with her t' make sure she gets a good deal an' to show her around a wee bit."
A grin also came to Will's lips, which made Bofur feel a bit confused; why did he look so happy about this? "Is that so? How long do the two o' you plan on bein' gone for?"
He shrugged. "However long she'd like t' be gone for, to be honest," he answered. His cheeks then turned a bit red as he started to follow the human back into the shop. "Could be a few hours, could be the whole day; it's all up to her. I did tell her if we get hungry, I could take her over t' the Ur Mansion an' introduce her to my brother an' sister-in-law who will, no doubt, stuff us full o' food." A small smile came to his lips at the thought of Bombur and Gerdi meeting Baylee and his cheeks grew a bit redder. He hoped they would like her…
"If she chooses t' stay the whole day, what sorts o' things do you plan on showing her?" His brow rose slightly when he saw Bofur's cheeks turn pink and then red; inwardly, though, he felt a little bit giddy about this. 'He's being a lot more bashful than I expected,' he thought. 'Normally, he's quite outgoing.'
"Well, probably the usual places…around the market, to the different districts, maybe one o' the glow-shroom farms. Oh, an' maybe a glassblower. I told her 'bout how glass is blown an' she got real curious about it." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck almost nervously. "That sound alright t' you, lad?"
Will nodded, his brow rising in amusement as he grabbed a broom. "It does, though I'm not sure why you're askin' me," he half-joked. "I'm not the one you're going t' be showing around."
Bifur looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling. "Hm? Who're you showing around where?"
"Day after tomorrow, I'll be goin' with Miss Baylee t' Erebor to help her get a spear," Bofur explained. "Dependin' on how long we stay there, I was thinking about the different places I could show her—an' don't worry, the Mansion is at the top o' the list."
Laughing, Bifur cocked a brow. "Is that so? What time will the two o' you be leaving?"
"We were thinkin' just after breakfast." He plopped down on a stool and picked up his small carving knife as well as a partially-shaped block of wood.
"Knowin' Baylee, she'd want t' stay there for as long as possible," Will said, emphasizing the words 'as long as possible' in hopes of Bofur noticing. "She loves seein' new places an' if she has herself a guide, she'll be even more eager t' go sightseein'." He glanced at Bifur, finding that the older dwarf had a mischievous look in his eyes. "I'm sure wherever you end up takin' her, though, she'd still enjoy the hell out o' it." He, too, sat down at the table, pulling over a stack of papers. On them were his diagrams for the various shelving units he'd have to build.
"It's a good thing Bofur's quite good at being a guide," Bifur chuckled. "Just don't show her the mines—those are boring."
A small pout came to Bofur's lips. "I had no intentions o' showing her the mines," he told him. "A glow-shroom farm, maybe, but no mines." He carefully worked the wood with his knife, turning it from a sharp-cornered block into a softer, rounded-edge hunk of wood; he wasn't quite sure what he was going to make yet.
"Why a glow-shroom farm?" Bifur questioned.
"I highly doubt Miss Baylee's ever seen a glow-shroom, let alone an entire farm o' them," Bofur said, matter-of-factly. "An' she's a lass who likes growin' things, so I thought she might enjoy it."
"Glow-shrooms are fungus, not plants." The three jumped in surprise and looked at the doorway only to find Nori and Ori standing there, each with a large basket in hand.
"Lunch delivery, by the way," Nori chuckled, stepping forward and setting his basket on the table. "Sorry it's not Miss Baylee; she's trainin' some new hostesses."
"Ahh, that's right: Prim managed t' rope her sisters into helpin' us for a while," Will snorted, his brow rising.
Ori nodded. "Miss Primrose, luckily, already knew what to do, so while Miss Baylee works with her sisters, she and Miss Wenna are handling the customers."
Bifur's brow rose. "How hard can it be t' train a person t' be a hostess?"
"Quite difficult when there's a couple o' Dorwinion rangers they're strugglin' to not flirt with," Nori told them. He started to unpack the basket, laying out plates of meat and cheese, as well as some fruits and two loaves of bread: One plain, the other a strawberry-lemonade loaf. He glanced at Bofur from the corner of his eye. "They're just lucky Rán had to go out on duty today. But he did manage t' send the girls into a gossipin' tizzy before he left."
Will's brow rose. "How'd he do that? Walked around in that low-cut tunic again?" he snorted.
Ori shook his head. "He kissed Miss Baylee's cheek."
"He did what?!" Bofur suddenly cried, taking them all by surprise. His eyes were wide in shock, but his brows were furrowed in anger and his jaw clenched shut.
"H-he kissed her cheek," Ori repeated. He had expected Bofur to not be happy upon hearing this news, but he hadn't expected such a loud reaction.
"That—that cocky asshole!" Bofur grumbled, letting his fist thump onto the table. "Who does he think he is, kissin' Miss Baylee's cheek!?" He continued to grumble, but switched to Khuzdul so he could use more colorful curse words.
The others exchanged knowing looks while doing their best to not laugh. "Bofur?" Will said, biting back a laugh.
"What?" grumbled the dwarf.
"Rán didn't actually kiss Baylee's cheek."
His frown growing in size, Bofur looked up in confusion. "What're you talkin' about?"
"I-I made that up," Ori admitted, his cheeks turning pink.
"We wanted t' see just how hard you had fallen for Miss Baylee," Nori stated, amused by the look of betrayal on Bofur's face. "An' now we know you've fallen in love hard enough that you're not about t' get back on your feet."
Swallowing hard, Bofur felt his cheeks growing hot. "Wh-what?! Yo-you could have just asked, you know!"
"We could have," Bifur agreed, "but we were a bit worried you may not have realized it yourself yet. So…we came up with this wee little test."
Bofur's eyes widened as realization hit him like a brick: Hewas in love with Baylee. All this time, he had been in denial; how could he come to love someone in such a short amount of time? It had taken years for him to fall for Kaia and yet, he'd only known Baylee a handful of months! He had thought that, surely, it was just a silly little crush. Almost everyone got crushes—it didn't mean they were in love!
But no. The more he thought about it, the more he started to recognize these feelings. Feelings he had thought were long dead and buried with Kaia. Mahal had seen fit to grant him a Second Chance and he had been too stupid to even realize it. Unconsciously, he grabbed the ends of his braids and, holding them together, started to rub his thumbs along the individual plaits; Bifur knew his cousin was prone to doing such a thing when he was feeling extremely bashful.
Still wearing the pout, Bofur cleared his throat. "We-well, you could have picked a better day," he scolded. "I was already wantin' t' punch the git's stupid, handsome face since this mornin' an' I almost ran off just now t' go do it."
"What'd Rán do t' warrant you wanting to punch him?" Nori questioned, his arms crossing over his chest. "Complimented her in front o' you?" He quietly chuckled at his own joke.
"No," he said with a heavy sigh. "He left six love-knots in her hair this mornin'."
The dwarves' eyes widened in shock while Will looked confused. "Love-knots? What're those?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"A love-knot is a special braid we dwarves put in our lover's hair," Bifur explained, "or in the hair o' our potential lover. We usually put them in in threes; three is the number you use when you're just startin' t' flirt."
"Six is when you're gettin' more serious and you're startin' to contemplate if the person's your One," Nori added.
"An' when you put nine in, then it means you're certain they're your One. Nine also mean 'back off, this one's taken,'" Ori said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I had seen that her hair was braided, but I didn't pay attention t' the style of braids…and since he left six, that means he really serious about bein' Bofur's rival."
Bofur groaned, letting go of his braids in favor of resting his arms on the table and burying his face in them. "He did it right in front o' me, too! But I couldn't do anythin' t' stop him because I didn't want t' look like a bully in front o' Miss Baylee!" Another Khuzdul curse word left his mouth. "I'm just glad she doesn't know what love-knots are…"
"Well, then, it's a good thing you'll be spendin' the whole day with her soon, isn't it?" Will said, trying to sound reassuring. "Rán won't be anywhere near her for most o' the day, so you can do all the flirtin' you want with her without fear o' being shown up." Reaching over to one of the plates, he plucked up a bit of cheese before popping it into his mouth.
"That's true," Bofur admitted with a sigh, his voice slightly muffled by his arms. "I'll be able to—" He then paused and, sitting upright, he looked at the group of males before him with suspicious, narrowed eyes. "Wait a minute…you four have known this entire time that I was in love an' you didn't bother t' tell me?!"
Nori burst out laughing and gave Ori a nudge. "I told you he didn't know he was in love!" he cackled.
"T-to be fair," Ori said, wincing as his brother nudged him harder than intended, "we weren't quite sure ourselves. We had suspicions, but we just wanted t' confirm them before we tried anythin'."
Bifur nodded. "Aye. We've been keepin' an eye on the two o' you, trying to find some definite signs. But other than an occasional flush o' the cheeks, you two act fairly normal around one another."
"One o' Baylee's faults, I'm afraid. She's never been good at flirtin'. She just…acts exactly the same. Maybe she'll blush a time or two," Will sighed. A mischievous grin then came to his lips. "However, I do have it on good authority that she does, indeed, harbor feelings for Bofur."
Ori frowned. "How do you know that?"
"Prim told me," he admitted. "She an' I talked this morning while Baylee was off with Rosalyn and Rosamunde. She was as giddy as a schoolgirl who just heard some juicy gossip when she told me Baylee was finally crushin' on someone after all this time." His grin faded somewhat at that point. "But…Prim also told me that Baylee's also crushing on Rán."
At that, Bofur groaned and let his head flop back onto his arms. "I don't stand a chance, then. The git's too handsome an' charming an' he's already put love-knots in her hair for Mahal's sake! No human lass in her right mind would pick me over him."
Nori reached over and thwacked him upside the head, knocking his hat askew. "Will said she was crushing on both o' you," he told him, voice dry. "Just because Rán's gone an' put love-knots in her hair doesn't mean anythin' aside from him tryin' to stake a claim on her."
Will nodded in agreement. "Not to mention, Rán's at a big disadvantage, being that I want her t' end up with you an' not him. Don't get me wrong: He's a nice enough bloke, but I have yet t' see him make her laugh nearly as hard or smile as much as you do, Bofur."
Bofur looked up, his eyes wide in shock. "…You really want her t' fall for me?" he asked with a small frown. "Aren't brothers supposed t' be against their sisters courtin' some bloke?" he then added as a small, teasing smile came to his lips. "You should be wantin' t' bash my head in."
He shook his head, laughing. "No, no—that's the job o' older brothers," he explained. "Bein' that I'm younger, I'm all for my big sister fallin' in love and being happy. An' you've quickly become a good friend t' me. As such, I'm goin' t' help you win her heart in any way I can."
"Now which barrels are these ones?"
"The ale."
"An' these ones?"
"Beer."
"What about these smaller ones?"
"Top three are cider, bottom three are mead."
"Which leaves these last one as the…"
"Wine."
Baylee grinned at the two brunettes sitting across from her. "Good. Now that you've got those memorized, the hardest thing you'll have t' remember is all the orders an' who they belong to."
Rosalyn, the older of the two, cocked a brow and a small pout came to her lips. "You underestimate our memories, Baylee Braddock," she said, her tone playfully scolding.
Rosamunde, the younger, snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Aye! We're not entirely hopeless when it comes to stuff like this," she giggled.
Shaking her head, Baylee chuckled and cocked a brow. "So long as the two o' you remember orders, you should be good t' go. On most nights, papa's the one behind the bar anyway, so you'll only have t' worry about fillin' drinks during breakfast an' lunch." She flicked a braid over her shoulder; Rán had definitely made sure her hair would stay out of her face when he had braided it.
"What happens if we can't remember the entire order?" Rosamunde asked. She had her chin resting in her palm as she watched Baylee get herself a tankard of cider.
"There's no harm in goin' back and asking," she answered. "Not t' mention, most o' our customers are usuals, so they'll see that the two o' you are new an' will go easy on you. It won't be too hard, though, since we only offer two main courses for lunch an' dinner. Breakfast is fairly slow, given that it's mostly folk who're stayin' here…not t' mention, you lot probably won't get here until after breakfast. You'll start rememberin' things quite quickly." She took a drink of her cider, enjoying how the liquid cooled her throat and stomach.
The sisters suddenly let out small yelps of surprise as Primrose came up behind them and threw her arms around their shoulders. "Prim! That was very unladylike of you!" Rosamunde jokingly scolded.
"I'll have you know that it would have been unladylike if I had jumped from nowhere while makin' scary noises or while wearing a scary mask," Primrose told her, her tone also joking. "As it was, I simply gave the two o' you a hug." She then looked at Baylee, a cheeky grin on her lips. "Where are the rangers at today, by the way?"
"They're out doin' their biweekly patrol o' the area surrounding Dale an' Erebor," Baylee answered, her brow rising. "Why do you ask?"
Primrose shrugged and moved to stand alongside Rosalyn. "Just curious. I told these two about how handsome they are. Don't worry, though—I made sure t' tell them that Rán was off limits due to him bein' yours."
Baylee's cheeks grew bright red and the trio of sisters started to giggle. "He is not mine," she mumbled, glancing away. "Just because I'm crushin' on him doesn't mean anything…"
"True, but the fact that he's crushin' on you, too, does mean something," Primrose giggled.
Rosamunde grinned, plopping her chin in her palm. "Prim told us he's real handsome," she said. "Is she overexaggeratin' or is she being truthful?"
"She told you the truth," Baylee sighed, her cheeks still red. "B-but that still doesn't mean he's 'mine'—I don't even know if I like him more or less than Bofur!"
"Bofur? Who's that?" Rosalyn questioned, her brow rising. A smirk came to her lips. "Is he handsome, too?"
"Aye, he is," Baylee murmured, taking another drink of her cider. A small smile then came to her lips and she bit her lower lip slightly. "Especially when he's got his hair unbraided…"
Primrose cocked her brow. "You've seen him with his hair down?"
"Just this mornin', actually," Baylee answered. "He redid his hair while we had our morning chat."
Rosalyn and Rosamunde exchanged confused looks. "Is there a particular significance t' this Bofur fellow having his hair unbraided?" the former asked. "Other than him looking handsome, that is."
"Not really," Primrose said. "He's a full-dwarf, though, so he's usually got his hair braided. I'm sure I've told you about him—he's one of the ones who's opening up a toyshop on the main street."
"Oh, that one!" Rosamunde chirped. "I've seen him a few times, then. He's the one who wears the silly hat and has the pigtails that curl upwards somehow, isn't he?"
Baylee nodded. "Aye, that'd be him."
The younger Lightfoot glanced away, shifting her weight to the other foot. "Ahh…er, well, I suppose he's a bit decent looking, then. But, he's also not my type, so o' course I wouldn't think he's as attractive as you do."
"Oh, aye, I know. You prefer your males t' be tall, practically hairless, an' have pointy ears," Baylee joked. Finishing her cider, she let out a small, content sigh. "I should go see if Galiene an' Gawen need any help in the kitchen. Do you think you three can handle the room if I get put t' work?"
"Shouldn't be too hard," Primrose smiled, "especially since we'll have Wenna helping us."
"Alright. If you have any troubles an' Wenna gets too busy t' help, feel free t' come get me." Bringing her mug with her, she headed for the kitchen. As she stepped through the doors, she was greeted by the scent of slow-roasting chicken and her stomach quietly growled. "Do you two need any help in here?"
Aunt and nephew looked over from the hearth; Gawen was slowly turning a set of spits that each had six chickens speared on them while Galiene was using their drippings to baste the birds.
"Ah, you're just in time!" Galiene chirped. "I need you t' run to the market an' fetch us some rosemary, tarragon, and some jarred tomatoes if possible."
"Rosemary, tarragon, an' jarred tomatoes. Got it." Setting her mug down by the sink, she then removed her apron and hung it on a hook by the door. "How much o' each?"
"A good handful of the herbs an' three large jars o' tomatoes if you can find them," Galiene told her.
Gawen wore a mischievous grin as he glanced over at Baylee. "With how much she uses, it might just be better t' buy my aunt an herb garden o' her own." He leaned back as Galiene tried to thwack him upside the head.
"That is somethin' you'll have to bring up with papa," Baylee laughed, her brow rising. Reaching under the sink, she pulled out a basket. "I'll be back soon!" She left through the kitchen door, a small smile coming to her lips as she felt the warm, spring sun start to warm her skin. 'This feels nice for now,' she thought, 'but when I have my sparring session later, I'm going to be dying in that gambeson…'
"Lady Baylee?"
She stopped in her tracks, seeing Rán, Kreine, and Hunil leaving the stables. "Afternoon, you three," she smiled, giving them a small wave. "How did your patrol go?"
"Uneventful, thankfully," Kreine smiled. "We can only hope the others will have had the same results by the time they return."
Hunil nodded in agreement. "The quieter the patrols, the better. It means those raiders are still too cowardly to come this far north." He then sniffed the air. "What does Lady Galiene have cooking for dinner tonight? It smells delicious."
"Your choice between spit-roasted chicken an'…an'…" She paused, her brows furrowing slightly. "You know, I don't really know what else she's got cookin' up in there. I've been workin' with our new hostesses, so I haven't been in the kitchen much."
Rán cocked his head. "I assume they are to take the place of your aunt?"
"An' t' help with the comin' summer rushes," she added. "For two o' the three, this will be their first time workin' in the inn, so if they mess any orders up, I apologize in advanced."
Kreine gave her a reassuring look. "We will go easy on them," she chuckled. Then, noticing the basket, her brow rose somewhere. "Where are you going?"
"T' the market. Galiene needs me t' grab some things for her."
"Do you mind if I accompany you, then?" Rán questioned. "I need to buy some hair oils for both Ashailyn and myself."
Though she wasn't the least bit surprised he had asked to come with her, Baylee's cheeks still flushed ever so slightly. "You're more than welcome t' come with," she replied, smiling. "If you'd like, I could even show you the best shop t' get hair oils from."
"That would be most appreciated, Lady Baylee." He looked up at Kreine and Hunil. "I will return in a bit. Is there anything you would like me to pick up while I am out?"
"Some hair oil for me, too, would be lovely," Kreine replied.
Hunil shook his head. "I need nothing. If the others get back while you are out, we will be sure to tell them where you have gone."
He gave him a small nod of thanks. "Alright. Do not pester the new hostesses too much while we are away."
Kreine grinned. "We will not." She started to lead Hunil towards the door while Baylee and Rán headed for the archway.
"It is good to hear you have hired on more help," he commented as they walked. "This inn seems to be quite popular even in the off season, so I can hardly imagine how busy it will be come summer."
"Oh, aye—it gets pretty crazy at times," she chuckled. "Cermië is the month when we start gettin' an idea of how busy it'll be, since midyear's day at the start o' the month an' folk like t' travel up here for the festival." She shifted the empty basket so that she carried it at her side rather than in the crook of her arm. "Though, I'm wonderin' if it's going to be a wee bit quieter this year, what with those raiders attackin' folks."
A small frown came to Rán's lips and he nodded in agreement. "A valid concern," he told her. "When the dwarven prince visits next week, King Bard and I will be discussing a plan of action with him."
"Somethin' tells me you can't just send a few rangers out t' try an' track them down."
He nodded. "Yes. We tried such tactics back in Dorwinion, but we always lost the trail by the third day." Sighing, he shook his head. "Even when we were only a few hours behind them, they always managed to lose us."
Her brows furrowed. "That's odd…Did their tracks just disappear or did they start crisscrossin' an' doubling back t' confuse you?"
"Both. Sometimes, they would simply vanish and others, they grew too confusing to read. Often times, they would also travel along game trails so that the wild animals would help to further hide their tracks."
"Hm. That's fairly tricky o' them…Maybe they're not from the Brown Lands, after all."
Rán tilted his head curiously. "Pardon?"
Her cheeks flushed slightly. "O-Oh, I spoke with Bard before you lot got here an' he told me about the raiders. In turn, I told him the wargs an' their riders could be hidin' out in the Brown Lands, since that's where wargs like t' go t' breed."
"How do you know of this, if you do not mind my asking?"
"My mum an' auntie grew up in the East Emnet o' Rohan, which is fairly close t' the Brown Lands. As such, they were constantly havin' t' defend their village from roamin' bands o' wargs. They would get so bad that King Thengel sent over a small army t' thin the numbers."
He nodded in understanding as he absorbed the information. "Did they, by chance, ever mention how large those wargs were?"
"Not really. When they told us the stories, they only said that the wargs were taller than a pony, but shorter than a horse." As they entered the market, she started to look around, checking to see which vender had the freshest looking herbs. "You could try askin' my auntie, though. I'm sure she'd be able t' describe them better."
"I will keep that in mind, thank you," he told her. He, too, glanced around; he had quickly grown to enjoy this market more than the one back in Dorwinion. It was quieter and, while there were still many people wandering about, it wasn't nearly as crowded.
Baylee stole a peek up at him and found a content smile on his lips. He seemed to be much more at ease out here than he did back at the inn and part of her wondered if it was because there were no other rangers about. Or, perhaps, it was because he was around her…? She highly doubted that one, however; why would being around her make someone feel at ease?
"So…how have you been enjoyin' Dale?" she asked, leading him towards a vendor. "I know you've been enjoyin' the food, but that's about it."
"I am enjoying it quite a bit," he answered, following alongside her. "Especially this cooler weather." He let out a soft laugh. "The first time I saw snow was when the peak of the Lonely Mountain came into view when we rode up here. Come next winter, I hope that I will be able to see some close up."
"Come winter, you might be missin' the warm weather o' Dorwinion," she joked. She started to sort through the sprigs of rosemary, looking for the biggest, greenest ones. "Our summers don't get terribly warm—aye, they get warm enough t' warrant wearing lighter fabrics, but most definitely not for swimmin', which is a bit disappointing…Not that there are many good swimmin' spots up here anyway."
His brow rose and he let out a small laugh. "It does not surprise me that you lament the lack of swimming spots, given how you grew up on a lake," he commented. "Though, it does surprise me that, with Laketown being only fifty or so miles away, its summers would be warm enough for swimming."
"You'd be surprise," she chuckled, picking about seven large sprigs of rosemary before beginning to look for the best of the tarragon. "Only around fifty miles separates the two cities, aye, but Dale's also much higher up than Laketown. The entire landscape changes, too; it goes from bein' rocky and forested up here to wide, open plains on the eastern banks o' the lake."
"I must admit, I have found it a bit peculiar how drastically the land changes here," Rán told her. "But then again, I am from a part of Dorwinion where there are only two types of landscapes: Flat, open prairies and dense, mixed forests." He couldn't help but smile as, when she had found enough tarragon, she had to stand on her tiptoes in order to hand the vendor her money.
Baylee nodded in agreement as she carefully set the herbs in the basket; she wanted there to be plenty of room should she find the jarred tomatoes. "When we first came up here after the Burning, I was fairly shocked, too. I mean, I grew up bein' able t' see most o' the Lonely Mountain from my bedroom window, so I knew it had to be at least a bit rocky up here, but seeing just how rocky it was shocked me." She started to lead him off again.
"It must have been hard, having to adapt to this new landscape when you were so used to living on the lake." He glanced at her, feeling quite pleased that she still wore the love-knots in her hair. Part of him wondered if, had she known what the braids symbolized to dwarves, she would have taken them or left in.
"It was harder for some an' easier for others," she said. "That winter, everyone stayed up here, since there wasn't much we could do with the ruins o' Laketown. With help from the elves an' the dwarves, though, most everyone survived t' see the spring." Instead of leading him towards another vendor, she took him down one of the quieter side-streets.
"That is good to hear—that so many survived, I mean." Reaching over, he gently brushed two of the braids over her shoulder, his knuckles gently brushing against her cheek. "Especially since they have gone on to rebuild such a beautiful city."
Her cheeks grew warm and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "A-aye, it is a lovely city, isn't it?" she chuckled, hoping she didn't sound too nervous. "A far cry from how we found it, that's for certain." She then pointed at a building about a dozen yards from them. "This, by the way, is the best place t' get hair oils," she told him. "They have all sorts o' scents—even some imported from Dorwinion. They've also got lots o' other things for sale in here."
Looking up at the sign, Rán read aloud, "Lightfoot Trading Emporium…? It does sound promising."
"It's run by Prim's family," she explained, "so I might be a wee bit biased, but I can promise that they have good quality products in here." Opening the door, she stepped into the building only to be greeted by a scent she knew to be sandalwood.
"Baylee, lass! Long time no see!" A woman around Demelza's age came out from behind a counter, her arms outspread; it was all too obvious her daughters had taken after her when it came to their appearance.
Grinning, Baylee walked over and gave her a big hug. "Hello, Mrs. Lightfoot," she said. A small squeak left her mouth as the woman easily plucked her up off the ground and gave her an extra squeeze.
"How're my girls doing over at that inn o' yours, hmm? Not causing too much trouble, I trust?" She set Baylee back down before putting her hands on her hips, a smile still on her lips.
"None at all," Baylee assured her. "Rosalyn an' Rosamunde are quick learners, so come dinner, I'm sure they'll be o' great help."
"Good, good…Admittedly, I had my reservations about them going to work for you, since they've lived a rather privileged life thus far, but I'm sure it'll be a good experience for them," she chuckled. Then, noticing the man standing behind her, her brow rose slightly and a small smile came to her lips. "And who's this handsome lad you've got with you?" she then asked. "Guessing by his uniform, he's one o' those rangers who's been stayin' at the inn?"
"I am," Rán said with a friendly smile before giving a small bow. "My name is Rán. I am the leader of the rangers."
Mrs. Lightfoot looked rather impressed. "Well, welcome to my family's humble shop," she chuckled. "We've got a variety of products from all over the place, so I hope you'll be able t' find anything you need."
"Which is hair oil," Baylee told her. She then pointed to a set of shelves on the left side of the shop. "You'll find them over there, on the three middle shelves."
Rán thanked her before going over to the shelves to browse the selection.
"And what about you, young lady? Are you in need o' anything today?" Mrs. Lightfoot questioned, starting to lead Baylee towards the counter.
"I do, actually. Do you happen t' have any jarred tomatoes handy?"
Mrs. Lightfoot let out a small laugh. "I do, as a matter o' fact! But I don't have many left. How many are you needing, dear?"
"Galiene requested three large jars if possible."
"Mm…Will two large jars and two small jars be acceptable?" she questioned, taking Baylee's basket from her.
"I'm sure they will be." She chuckled as she watched the woman disappear behind a beaded curtain. Peeking over her shoulder, she could see Rán looking over the different choices of hair oil. 'Hm. I am getting low on my own oils, so I suppose I should get more while I'm here.'
As she walked towards the shelves, Rán glanced over at her. "I was able to find the same oils that Ashailyn and Kreine use, but it would seem they do not have the scent I usually use," he told her, amusement in his voice.
"Really? What scent would that be?" she questioned.
"Juniper." He leaned back slightly, looking over the bottles on the lower of the three shelves.
"Hm. They usually do have that in stock," she told him. "If you'd like, I could ask Mrs. Lightfoot if there's any in the back?"
He shook his head, giving her a small smile. "No, no; there is no need. This just gives me the chance to try a new scent." He then glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Is there any in particular you would recommend?"
Her cheeks turned a bit pink. "I-I'm afraid I'm not very good when it comes t' recommending scents," she admitted. "I never have been, since I tend t' stay with the same three or four. My only suggestion is t' stay away from lavender." Spotting a bottle that was labeled 'cherry', her head tilted slightly and she picked it up. She opened it and sniffed its contents; though it was missing the hints of tobacco, the scent almost instantly reminded her of Bofur.
"Why do you not recommend lavender?" he asked, curious. "Is it too potent?"
She shrugged, stopping the bottle with its cork once more. "T' be honest, most o' us inn staff aren't fans o' the stuff," she explained. "Since we use it t' help freshen up rooms that haven't been used in a while an' my uncle uses it a lot in his medicines, we're fairly sick o' the stuff."
"That is understandable," he said with a small laugh. Looking back at the bottles, a thoughtful expression came to his face and he reached for one labeled 'frankincense'.
'Now that is a strange looking word,' Baylee thought, putting the cork back into the bottle of cherry hair oil. 'Fran-kin-ken-see? Frank-ink-seen-se? Maybe it's a word from some other language?' Pretending she hadn't seen its label, she asked, "Which scent is that one?"
"Frankincense," he replied, removing the cork to sniff the contents. "Not a scent I would normally consider, as it was frequently used in medicines back in Dorwinion." He offered the bottle to her so she could smell it as well. "But after being away from home for a few months has made it more pleasant to me."
After sniffing the oil, a thoughtful expression came to Baylee's face. "It makes me think o' freshly cut cedar boughs. But not quite as strong."
"I am afraid I do not know what cedar boughs smell like," he said, corking the bottle once more. Putting the bottle back on the shelf, he grabbed a different one; upon opening and smelling it, a small, almost silly grin came to his lips. "Ah…This one makes me think of your delicious baking." Once more, he offered the bottle to her, his grin turning a bit more victorious when he saw how red her cheeks quickly turned.
This time, she was met by the smell of lemons and oranges, though there was something else mixed in with them; it was sweeter—almost like sugar—but it was also, in an odd way, warmer. "That does smell good," she said with a small chuckle. "I can smell the orange an' the lemon, but I'm not sure what that third scent is."
"It is vanilla," he explained. Corking the bottle, he moved to leave the spot. "It is a plant that comes from the eastern shores. Vanilla beans are just as hard to get as chocolate, but vanilla essence is much easier to get ahold of. It is frequently used in baking sweet things."
She nodded in understanding. "If ever Will goes back t' Dorwinion, it sounds like I'll have t' have him pick some up," she chuckled, "unless the Lightfoots get any in." After a few seconds, her brows rose as she got an idea. "Ooh, or I can have Bofur show me where Dori's shop is when we go t' Erebor…" she thought aloud.
"…You will be going to Erebor soon? With Bofur?" Though he tried to hide his dislike of Bofur from her, Baylee could still hear a bit of it in his voice.
"Aye. The day after tomorrow," she explained, feeling a bit guilty that she had mentioned it. "I need t' go there t' commission a spear that's more suited t' my height an' Bofur's going t' come with in order t' make sure I get a good deal." As they approached the counter, she saw that Mrs. Lightfoot had her basket filled with jars of tomatoes.
"Did you find everything alright, dears?" she asked, smiling at the pair.
Rán nodded, offering her a smile in return. "Your selection of hair oils is quite diverse. I was not expecting to find frankincense and citrus scents this far north."
A mischievous twinkle came to the older woman's eye. "That would be one of the perks to having family in Dorwinion," she chuckled. Taking the bottles from Rán, she looked over the names and wrote them down in a book, along with what price each was. "That'll be ten silver, my lord," she told him. As Rán brought out his coin purse, she started to write down the amount of jarred tomatoes and their prices.
"Oh, and this," Baylee told her, setting the bottle of hair oil on the counter.
Plucking it up, Mrs. Lightfoot read the label only for her brow to rise. "Cherry? Have you finally grown tired o' almond then, dear?" she chuckled.
"Not tired o' it, no, but I did think it was time for a bit o' a change." She brushed one of her braids over her shoulder as she brought out her own coin purse, beginning to pull out the amount of coins needed without being told the total yet.
"With all the baking you do, dear, you're goin' to be smelling like a cherry pie!" She smiled as she took the coins from both of them; they soon heard the sound of the coins sliding down into a metal box.
"Better than smellin' like a pork pie!" Baylee chirped, her tone teasing. She grinned as the two did their best to not snort.
"Word has it that your sister's caught the attention o' the leader of those rangers."
"Mhm…An' he's caught hers. But Bofur also has her attention an' he's the bloke who matters."
"You don't like the idea o' Baylee being with a handsome military man?" Adela quietly laughed as she let her fingers comb through Will's hair. They were sitting under a tree in the abandoned garden, his head in her lap. "Prim's told me that he's one o' the most handsome men she's ever seen."
"Aye, he's handsome, but I have yet t' see him make Baylee laugh as much as Bofur does. That, an'—an', as nice o' a person he is, I just can't see him with my sister." Opening his eyes, he peered up at his love through the darkness, the light of the new moon just enough to let him see her silhouette.
Picking up a lock of his hair, she idly began to braid it. "Are there any other reasons?"
"There is an' I promise that I found out this information after I started wantin' 'Lee and Bofur t' be a couple, so it's only making me want them t' end up together more," he said. He let out a small sighed before explaining, "Dwarves only fall in love once. If somethin' happens to their lover, that's it. They'll just be alone for the rest o' their life. Except in rare cases, when a dwarf's granted somethin' they call a Second Chance. It's just like it sounds—a second chance at findin' love and bein' happy. An', well…Bofur's one o' those lucky few."
She frowned, her head tilting ever so slightly. "So…he was married before or…?"
"Engaged. From what Bifur said, it took him decades to get over his fiancée's death."
Nodding in understanding, Adela picked up another lock of hair and began to braid it as well. "And Baylee was in a similar situation with Bard, only instead o' him dying, he picked another woman…" She made a quiet noise of contemplation. "But you said Bofur makes her laugh?"
"Hardly a day goes by that he's not sayin' or doin' something that's sending her into a giggle fit."
"How's Rán around her?"
He shrugged. "Admittedly, I don't know. Since I'm at work most o' the day, I don't see much o' their interactions. From what I hear, though, Rán is very open about bein' attracted to her an' I've seen him unabashedly flirt with her when she's servin' him at dinner—hell, he's even put love-knots in her hair!"
Her brow rose in amusement. "Love-knots?"
He gave her a cheeky, albeit apologetic, smile. "Ah, yeah—I just learned about them yesterday, but apparently dwarves have a specific braid they use to show how much they love their lover an' t' tell other dwarves t' stay away."
She frowned in confusion, her brows knitting together now. "Why would Rán use a dwarven braid then? To intimidate Bofur?"
"Yes and no. Rán's half dwarf."
"He's half dwarf!?" Though he couldn't see her expression well, Will knew her eyes were wide and her jaw was slightly slack.
"Aye, he is," he chuckled. "You wouldn't expect it, though, given how much he takes after his human parent. The only things that really give it away are his height, his ears, an' his hands, but the second two aren't even that noticeable."
Adela quietly laughed, setting down the second braid in favor combing through his hair again. "That makes sense, then," she murmured. "An' I suppose Bofur wasn't very fond of seeing those love-knots?"
"Not at all. Poor bloke thinks he doesn't stand much o' a chance, given how handsome an' charming Rán is."
"Oh no! Did you cheer him up somehow?"
He nodded. "Aye. I reminded him that he'll be spendin' all o' tomorrow with 'Lee in Erebor, which means he'll have plenty o' chances t' flirt with her."
"Why will they be in Erebor?" She pulled her hands away as Will sat up.
Scooting backwards so that his back was against the tree, he slipped his arm around Adela. "She needs t' get a spear for her trip t' Laketown. Da's not letting her go down there unarmed." He pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheek.
"That makes sense," she chuckled. "Speaking o' getting things, though…A certain handsome lad I know has a birthday coming up quite soon." She rested her head against his shoulder, sighing in content.
His brow rose and he chuckled. "Oh, really? Who would that be?" he joked. He tilted his head as well, letting it rest atop hers.
"Very funny," she murmured, a smile on her lips. "Is there anything you'd like for your birthday? Or should I just do the same as the last three years an' bake you an apple custard pie?"
"Mmm…The pie and some of your kisses is all I'd like."
"And you're certain there's nothin' else?" she asked, her brow rising. "No tools or anything?"
"Nope."
"William Braddock, you are such a frustrating man sometimes," she chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Mark my words, I'll find you some sort o' gift aside from one of my pies."
His free hand rose up, his finger waving at her in a mock scolding fashion. "And kisses. Don't forget about your kisses—I daresay they're more important than the pie." A cheeky grin came to his lips as she lightly swatted his hand. He kissed the top of her head once more before sighing in content. "In all honesty, the only thing I really want for my birthday is for you t' be out of your dad's inn. Maybe a ring on your finger an' your last name bein' 'Braddock' instead o' Stover…but I know that's goin' t' take a while yet."
"Mmm…have you thought about what part o' town would be best for gettin' a house?" she asked, her hand reaching over. She laced her fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
"I was actually thinking this house."
She lifted her head, a confused look on her face. "This one? Why this one?"
"Why not? We already meet here all o' the time. It's big enough that we can have a family, but small enough that I wouldn't be fixin' it up to the end o' my days…Not to mention, all the memories we've made out here in the garden." He chuckled as she lightly nudged him. "In all seriousness, love? I think this would be a good fit for us."
Adela looked up past the tree's branches at the house. It was three stories tall, not including its cellar, and from her and Will's earlier explorations of the place, she knew it had plenty of rooms and a nice, large kitchen. They figured it was once a house that belonged to a family of nobility who needed space for their servants to stay. It would definitely need a lot of work to get it back to being in livable condition, but, like the rest of the houses in Dale, it had good bones. And with how many friends in the various crafting occupations Will had…
"You don't think it's too big?" she asked after a moment.
"I mean…I suppose it depends on how big o' a family we want t' have someday, but I figured we can always kidnap Lovisa t' come live with us an' help with our future kids."
She burst into a fit of giggles. "You wouldn't need t' kidnap her, love—she'd be all too willing t' come help."
"I also wouldn't need t' kidnap her because Baylee's goin' t' try her damnedest t' get her t' come back up t' Dale at the end o' the trip." He grinned as her giggles filled his ears; it was one of his favorite sounds.
"Oh, that'd be nice! You haven't gotten t' see her in quite a while."
He nodded in agreement. "Aye an' neither has da'. Not t' mention, I think it'd be nice for her t' get t' chat with some dwarves—she's always around humans, after all. I think she'd enjoy havin' conversations with the lads."
"Would she have conversations with them or would she be too busy frettin' over your family?" Adela joked. "It's been so long, I have no doubt she'll smother the lot o' you with a few years' worth o' affection."
"Luckily, she'll get some o' it out when Baylee heads down there. Though…now that I think about it, she's goin' to do most o' her frettin' over auntie."
She frowned. "Why's that?"
"You haven't heard?" Adela shook her head. "She tore her tendon while sparring with 'Lee."
Her eyes shot open. "How in the world did she do that!?"
He shrugged. "Da' says it was probably a combination o' going too hard an' her getting old."
"Is she alright though? A torn tendon is no minor injury…"
"Her pride's dented an' she's not allowed t' walk for a few weeks, but other than that, aye, she's fine. But even when she does start walkin' again, she has t' wear a brace t' help her walk. "
"So she's not going t' be able t' help with the customers for a while, then."
He shook his head. "No, she's not, but that's alright. Prim an' two of her sisters are temporarily workin' for us t' take auntie an' Lee's spots. Anyway, I'm sure she'll be able t' help Galiene an' Gawen in the kitchen. She's got good choppin' skills that they'll be needin' soon."
Closing her eyes, she snuggled into him and let out a soft sigh. "That's right. That dwarven prince will be visitin' next week, won't he?"
"Mhm. Galiene's already put in an order for a whole hog with Halfast. He'll be deliverin' it two days before Fili gets here so Galiene can make sure it's all primed an' ready t' go."
"Ooh, she's doin' one o' her roasted hogs, is she?" A small grin came to her lips. "Will it be cooked over a spit or is she goin' t' do it in the ground?"
"In the ground. From what Halfast said, the pig he's got picked out for her is much too big for any spit—unless we have him do more butcherin' than just cleaning out the offal an' other innards. But no, Galiene wants this t' be a whole roast hog."
She quietly laughed. "I may have t' try t' sneak away just so I can get some o' it. She's always been able t' get the skin super crispy while the meat stays nice an' moist."
"Aye, she has…She said it's some sort o' family secret, but I'm pretty sure she just salts the skin for the few days leadin' up to when she roasts it."
"Hm…you don't think Gawen knows the secret, do you?"
His brow rose as he glanced down at her. "I don't think so, no. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. "He's young. I bet I could get any o' Galiene's cookin' secrets from him if I leaned over just a bit too far or wore my bodice just a wee bit tighter," she answered, her tone teasing.
"Oh, now that's just downright cruel," Will laughed. "Giving the poor lad an eyeful just so you can get some cookin' secrets out o' him…"
"Hm. You're right—that is a wee bit too cruel for a lad who's barely turned nineteen. I could bribe him with some pie instead. Do you know what kind he likes?"
Will snorted and, leaning over, kissed her cheek. "Nice try, love," he told her. "Even if I did know, though, I wouldn't be tellin' you—an' flashing your lovely cleavage at me won't work, either."
Though he couldn't see it, he knew a mischievous smirk had come to her lips. "Is that so?" Turning, she draped her arms around his neck and started to plant kisses along his jaw. "I suppose I'll just have t' bare a little more skin for you, then."
He grinned, his arms wrapping around her once more. "Oh, I quite like the sound of that…"