"... and then I said, 'You can keep the hood, Master Elf. Just give me the trousers back!'" Ein finished yet another of his anecdotes, and Eorwyn burst into loud laughter. "Shush, my lady," he hollered in no way quieter. "We're approaching dangerous woods."

Eorwyn gave it a split-second long consideration and smacked his shoulder.

"You're incorrigible," she said and felt his body shake in chuckles.

They did reach the edge of the woods in just a few minutes, and Ein dismounted. She glanced down from her spot in the saddle and threw him an expectant look. He didn't help her in any way, and she wondered for an instant whether she was expected to jump off the animal herself for some reason - and suddenly the King was near her, stretching his hands to her. She grinned, joyous to see him, and readily leaped into his embrace. For a second, nothing but his cerulean eyes in front of her and the sensation of being pressed into him existed in the world. He smiled back at her and leaned to her lips. She hesitated, but the temptation was too strong, and she met him in a short but ardent kiss.

He then moved her away from him and stretched his hand with a water skin in it to her.

"Have some," he said.

Eorwyn took it with a grateful nod and drunk greedily. She'd finished hers hours ago.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she nodded again. "Don't take unnecessary risks. If the dastards don't behave, just leave."

Eorwyn giggled. "You can't call the members of an ancient wise nation and an allied people 'dastards,' Thorin," she whispered, only for him to hear.

He cocked one eyebrow, and she snorted.

"I'd rather be overly cautious when it comes to my most precious treasure, my little hen," he whispered back, and then suddenly picked up her collar and pulled at the sides, closing it more securely around her open throat. "If anything doesn't sit well with your intuition, just come back."

Eorwyn discreetly shifted and rubbed the tip of her nose to his hand. It felt most pleasant to have her judgement trusted so much.

"I have Lord Ein with me," she reminded him.

The King nodded and pulled her Bearclaw out of the saddle sheath. He helped her to buckle it to her back, and handed her a sword in a belt scabbard.

"Dwalin sends his regards," he said.

Eorwyn looked down on the short wide blade. She had to concede, it was the most perfect size for her frame.

"More of a dagger really," he said, and a good-natured chortle bubbled in his throat. "A little claw for a little hen," he murmured and then quickly kissed her lips again.

"Restrain yourself, my lord," Eorwyn murmured and noticed the flirtatious note in her own voice. "You're being agog."

Clearly, she could restrain herself no better. Perhaps, the King had been right, and the spirit of adventure and the open road were muddling her as well.

"I am agog," he said, raising his eyebrow again.

Eorwyn lifted her eyes to the sky, feigning pensiveness, murmuring, "Let me see," and then she quickly pecked his lips. He barked a surprised laugh. "Aye, I see now," she said quickly. "I am agog too."

He shook his head in amusement.

"And I promise to be careful," she reassured him. "I don't trust them either."

"If memory serves me right, my little hen, you trust no one," he said.

"One," Eorwyn said and lifted her index finger. "I trust one person in the world. And he surely isn't an Elf."

They both laughed, and lord Ein approached them.

"I've found a path and a gate, my lord," he said and pointed towards the thick wall of dark trees.

The foliage on most of them had turned already, and Eorwyn cringed looking at the blood red and sickly, mustard yellow leaves.


"So, do I recall it right that you were the King's companion during the Quest of Erebor and travelled these woods together?" lord Ein asked.

They'd entered through the ornate gate he'd found and were now following a winding trail.

"I wouldn't put it that way," Eorwyn said. "I'd encountered the company in the Goblin caves. We were captured together. I was part of a small company of merchants from Enedwaith."

"And they let you join the Dwarves?" Ein asked in disbelief.

"I was the only survivor," she answered quietly. "When we exited the caves, it was just me and the company. And I was wounded. But that's not why they took me in!" she rushed to clarify. "They wouldn't leave a person without assistance! I hid the wound, in actuality. I didn't want to be a burden. Which was rather dim of me, to be honest. I ended up collapsing in the woods later, and they had to carry me."

It would have been enjoyable to reminisce of those times, but for the regret she still felt for inconveniencing the King and his men.

"I doubt you were a heft, birdie," Ein said good-naturedly. "And besides, I bet it felt rather ticklish to save a damsel in distress."

"I was dressed as a boy then," she said, and he gave her a bewildered look. She laughed. "Aye, short hair, trousers, and–" She decided to omit mentioning the chest binders. "I was Eoren then, a scribe. Men do not allow women near their numbers and their books."

"How very reactionary of them," he answered. "Considering that one of your sex clearly has enough wits to become a member of the Royal Court of the Exchequer in the richest Dwarven Kingdom, I'd say they might have gotten it wrong."

Eorwyn gave him a grateful smile.

"So, what happened then?" he asked.

"Then we got captured in these woods. The company left, and I stayed. The Elves healed me, and then I went to Lake-town. And then I became the trade counselor for both Kings."

Ein suddenly laughed and shook his head, "And that's it? You're telling it as if telling of a short trip to a market. You do realise, my lady, no one has ever achieved anything equal to it, don't you?" he said.

Eorwyn frowned. "Most of it was sheer luck, really–" she started.

"Luck? I hope I be so lucky one day," Ein exclaimed, "except I doubt even the famed Hedan Sharur would bring that much fortune to me."

"What is Hedan Sharur?" Eorwyn asked curiously.

"Do you know those keys cut out of semi-precious stone that some Dwarves wear around their necks and on their belts? They are Smoke Keys, talismans for luck, made of the smoky crystal, common in most Dwarven mountains. Hedan Sharur is believed to be carved by Durin I himself, and said to bring one unimaginable success. Sort of like a scribe from a village in Enedwaith becoming the Queen of Erebor," he said with a wink.

Eorwyn giggled. "Perhaps, I should check my pockets. It might have rolled in at some point, and–"

She didn't get to finish her jest, because suddenly an Elf stepped from behind a tree in front of them.

"You aren't particularly discreet, my friend," Ein said, nonchalantly moving between the Elf and Eorwyn. "I knew you were there five minutes ago."

"It's easy to say it now that you see me, friend," the Elf answered venomously.

"I still can't see you two companions, but I know one of them is lighter, and the other one is limping," Ein said.

Two more Elves joined their companion, and indeed one was a younger woman, more delicate in build, and the other one moved awkwardly, favouring his left side.

"My name is Sirannon," the first one said. "We've been sent by our Captain to show you to our camp." He then looked at Eorwyn. "You are known to us, Dinessel. And what is your name, Dwarf?" he asked Ein with a sneer.

"My name is lady Eorwyn of Erebor," Eorwyn said before Ein could answer. She felt his gaze on the side of her face. She jerked her chin up. Anger boiled in her blood, making her narrow her eyes and articulate her words with a cold precision. "We're travelling to the Misty Mountains on a diplomatic mission, and King Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain is among the members of our company, who stayed outside your woods out of respect for the safety of your people, since they might be carrying an ailment. Lord Ein, son of Finnar, and myself have endured it and pose no danger to your people. I expect to see the same consideration shown to me and my companion as we show you."

The Elf studied her for a few seconds and then bowed his head.

"Allow us to accompany you to our camp," he said in a much more courteous tone. "I shall send one of our guards to the Halls of King Thranduil to seek guidance… on how to best meet the needs of your company, my lady."

"Lead the way, Master Sirannon," Eorwyn answered and heard Ein's quiet chuckle.

They followed the Elf who continued on the same trail they had been walking on, while the other two once again disappeared into the woods.

"I thought you weren't going to come with 'your sword swinging,' birdie," Ein whispered leaning to her ear, and she looked at him sideways.

"And I thought you said I was the Queen of Erebor and could demand passage," she whispered back, and saw the Elf in front of her jerk.

Their hearing was exceptional, and Eorwyn was aware of that fact - and just as she'd calculated, the Elf couldn't help but throw her a shocked look over his shoulder. She pretended to be absorbed in a conversation with Ein.

"I don't appreciate when people are disrespectful to strangers. I think one should know a person to dislike the person," she added.

Ein laughed quietly. "For someone who dislikes prejudice, you surely married a person from the wrong nation, birdie."

"So far, I've seen little to no prejudice from Dwarves," Eorwyn quipped back. "Meanwhile..." She trailed away.

Ein laughed again, and they continued walking in silence.