Five days had passed since the wedding - five blissful days where we relaxed and started to settle into the life of a married couple. We had no obligations save those we placed on ourselves, no need to even leave the rooms if we so chose - having been so graciously supplied with foodstuffs by many of the well-wishers at our wedding. Our entire pantry, along with every available surface in our small cooking alcove, was filled with baked goods, preserves, jarred fruits and vegetables, smoked and dried meats, cheeses, and a wide variety of drink selections - both alcoholic and non-alcoholic - the pinnacle of which was the ornate wine cask from Thranduil which we had tapped and sampled with Dori, Nori and Ori on the second day after the wedding celebrations (apparently it had a fruity bouquet as Dori put it). In any case, we could have holed up completely and gotten lost in our new life together. For the most part, aside from a visit to see Bombur, Melvna and baby Melinda, we did exactly that and simply stayed put, content in each other's company. Bofur spent some time whittling, he played the flute for me on many occasions, and I even got him to sing me a song like he'd promised. Apart from admiring his musical talents, I started reading the books I now had in my small but slowly growing collection, caught up on sleep, and made many pots of excellent tea to enjoy on the balcony.

Things were idyllic.

By the afternoon of the fifth day post-wedding, I was finally presented with a reason to emerge upon receiving an invitation to train with Ganin and Méra. Realizing I no longer had to sneak around Bofur to do so, I boldly declared my intentions while trying not to act quite as excited as I felt for the chance to finally try out my new sword. Though I could still hear a hint of disapproval in his tone, Bofur thankfully relented with only a little fuss, knowing I might soon be hurting for some female companionship. Even then, he only stopped his rumbling after I promised him he could go spend time with Harrick and their crew while I was out. Besides, I had assured him that it was very likely to devolve into a social visit anyways, as the princess was likely to want a full account of our post wedded bliss ("All the details?"Bofur had remarked with raised eyebrows). After finally shooing him out the door, I rushed to get ready and seriously considered wearing my new elvish attire to train in, even going so far as to lay it all out and hold up the tight fitted tunic in front of me. It would certainly be the outfit that guaranteed me the most flexibility, but finally I reasoned that it would not do for me to be seen in brand new elven clothing so soon after my wedding to a dwarf, and so I donned a pair of my old working clothes instead.

By the time I returned from training I was out of breath and quite unkempt, stray strands of my hair clinging to the sweat of my brow as I summited the final staircase leading to our home. Despite the rather long commute, I had a new appreciation for the fact that our rooms were located in such a remote corner of the mountain, as I had therefore avoided any encounters with those who might see my current disheveled state and think less of me for it.

The door was locked when I tried it, so I reasoned that Bofur must still be out with friends. I knew by now that his social visits often devolved into many rounds of ale, and so resigned myself to the fact that he might not return until well after nightfall (perhaps not even until the following day). I put the key he had given me to good use and quickly let myself in, not wishing to linger in the corridor longer than I had to since I so desperately needed a bath. As luck would have it, however, I hadn't even made my way through the main room before a knock on the door stopped me in my tracks. I breathed a sigh of relief to see that the hallway was deserted when I went to discover who had come to call. In the absence of an unwanted social encounter, it appeared that a page had left a message on the small table we had set outside for such purposes; we found it necessary, as we could no longer rely on using Balin's common room for such conveyances - what with it taking the better part of half an hour to get there.

I returned inside, and it only took a casual glance to spot the seal of The King on the letter. Thus, my bath was forced to wait as my curiosity got the better of me. The scroll read as follows:

'By order of his majesty the King, you are to return to work without delay.

Your new assignment is to begin this very day at the location described by the directions included with this message.'

The letter was so short that I reread it four times, processing the content. The only logic by which my mind could make sense of it - a newlywed wife (from a dwarven marriage) being summoned to work so suddenly - was that Dain must need a rather important room cleared and cleaned for immediate use, and that many hands would be needed to get it tidied in short order. I also knew that the king had a tendency towards reminding folks that if a favour had been given, the recipient was forever in debt to the crown and was expected to repay it whenever called upon. It was petty, and one of the features I liked least about him. This demand, in such a hasty fashion, was just as likely Dain wanting to see how willing I was to fall in line after he went so far out of his way to break tradition and host a wedding on our behalf.

If I had been in any other situation I might have refused, or at least taken my sweet time about complying. As it was though, he happened to have called me to task at just the right time. I was already dirty and dressed for work, and could only speculate as to when I would see Bofur again, so I decided no harm would come from at least seeing the job at hand. Besides, whether or not I set to work promptly, or with as much vigour as was expected of me, was yet to be decided. Thinking about it further, though, I did owe the king a lot.

I reread the directions and thankfully it didn't seem to be leading somewhere completely new or too deep into the mountain, as I was fairly certain I knew a few of the mentioned landmarks, and so I set off. I was still adjusting to traversing the interior complex of the kingdom from my new rooms (I lost my way, twice, to the training room earlier that day), but my suspicion was that I would end up somewhere very near to the entrance hall, which I felt confirmed my earlier theory that the room would be of some importance. The directions, however, took me down back-routes and service hallways, but did seem to be more direct than the main courseways that I was accustomed to.

Curiously, I found myself in front of a door within eyeshot of the vast entryway of Erebor, and I couldn't understand why it would not have been one of the very first few rooms to have been serviced, given its proximity to such an important and high traffic area. As such, I entered the room in question expecting it to be in a state of massive disrepair, since the only explanation I could fathom as to why it had been so far skipped was that it must have been too monolithic of a job to devote time to until now.

It took me only a moment, however, to realize my error. I stopped dead in my tracks when my eyes registered the fact that the room was not only spotless, but also extremely organized and already set up as a fully functional meeting room complete with a large desk at the head of it flanked by two bookcases, along with a sizeable rectangular table with a dozen or so chairs at the room's centre. Yet that was not the only thing to make me falter. Sitting at the table was Balin, and Bofur, and Méra, and Hall, and two other dwarves I didn't even recognize.

In my confusion, I could only think to check the scroll of directions I still held to ensure I had even entered the right room. My mind was reeling, and so I made to retreat from whatever private meeting I had blundered in on, to figure out where I was meant to be.

My backwards step caused Balin and Bofur to get out of their chairs at once, both trying to reassure me at the same time. Méra rose more conservatively, trying her best not to look embarrassed for me, and Hall just stayed where he was, busying himself with picking at a fingernail (apparently grown back as good as new) rather than fixing yet another set of eyes on me.

"I don't understand, I thought I was being summoned to return to work." I stammered, looking to Balin with a frown.

"You are!" Méra exclaimed with a weird, giddy excitement I didn't think was quite warranted for dragging me from my post marital bliss to help with janitorial services again.

Méra, though she had ended training at the same exact time as I, somehow looked completely refreshed and was now sporting one of her stunning gowns. My incredulity turned into annoyance as I gaped at her, trying to convey with a scowl my displeasure that she hadn't warned me of the caliber of meeting I was invited to attend. Méra, seeming to pick on cue from my expression, suddenly flounced forward.

"Here, let me just…" she muttered as she halted in front of me and studied my face for a moment before proceeding to delicately grasp a stray lock of dank, sweaty hair that had been hanging down across my forehead. She tucked it behind my ear with some degree of ceremony.

"There." she announced happily, taking a step back and nodding. "All better."

Hall, apparently done with his self-manicure, finally looked up, gave me a quick once over and all but grimaced at the state of my appearance. "You know, I thought you marrying into this place would give you more status, or at least I figured your cross-dressing days were finally at an end - but hey, it is nice to be the overdressed one for a change."

Bofur pointed a threatening finger at him and began to spurt some objection, but Balin cleared his throat loudly and held up a hand in warning.

"Let's get to the matter at hand, shall we?" Balin interjected somewhat loftily, then gestured towards one of the chairs. "Please."

I eyed Balin with some skepticism, shot Hall a fresh scowl, and then finally acquiesced and pulled up a seat while the others resumed theirs as well.

"You are here because you are to start an internship to become Erebor's official liaison to Dale, and more broadly to the realms of men, should things go well. It is a job King Dain feels will be more suited to your new… status, as it was so simply put." With that he gave Hall a slightly withering look, which was pointedly ignored.

"I see." I said with no conviction whatsoever, still feeling quite muddled by the entire situation. When my mind finally caught up with what he had told me, I had so many questions, first and foremost being: "Hold on. Surely there are far more qualified dwarves who would be better suited to such a… visible position?"

"Some might say you're uniquely qualified for the job." Balin reassured me. "Of course, the vacancy will be otherwise filled if you wish to refuse - but this station was created solely to take advantage of the fact that you are now a citizen of Erebor, but you are also a human with familial ties to the City of Dale. It is this unique situation that makes you a good candidate for this particular position; your loyalties to your new home and its people, along with your obvious connection to our closest allies in Dale and the surrounding settlements, should allow for effective and unbiased communication on your part. You, as an appointed representative of Erebor, might open up new lines of partnership, strengthen trade bonds, and further help to break down the barriers of discrimination between our two peoples."

"He means to say we need you." piped up one of the two unfamiliar dwarves, who up to this point had kept silent but now spoke out so clearly in the common tongue that I was momentarily surprised. Not only that, after finally scrutinizing them closer I was taken aback by how young he and his colleague were, at least compared to most of the dwarves in the meetings I had attended thus far. "Allow me to introduce ourselves - my name is Baz, and this lovely fellow here is Darus." He clasped the dwarf next to him about the shoulders, leaning in closer to him while going on to explain his original comment. "We need you to smooth the waters between us and the humans around these parts. As a human woman, and a pretty young one at that, you're the farthest thing from what people will expect when they think of dishonest dealings. You might not have noticed," he continued, "...but most dwarves have a reputation as being a bit…well..." He looked to Darus to help him out.

"Prickly? Pig-headed? Dour? Overtly masculine?" His companion listed off, but Baz shook his head.

"No no, none of those…"

Darus continued: "Greedy, uncouth?"

"Oh, that's a good one, but still not the word I was trying to think of." Baz acknowledged, patting Darus on the forearm.

"Short?" Hall suggested unhelpfully, which drew the ire of Balin and Méra, but only caused Darus to roll his eyes.

"Oh let's be honest, it's safe to say we're all a bit short, of one thing or another, now aren't we?" The dwarf chided, and then looked very pointedly from Hall's face down to the table towards his lap area.

Hall stood up from the table and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, if your skilled diplomats have stooped to trying to insult my manhood, I think I no longer need to be here." He made to storm out dramatically, but then curiosity must have overwhelmed his pride, because he cordially returned and laid his hands flat on the tabletop while raising his eyebrows at Balin. "Wait, quick question. Why am I here, exactly?"

"Are you not currently one of Bard's leading advisors, and a public relations agent to the city of Dale itself?" Balin replied with just the faintest hint of impatience. "You two would be in frequent correspondence. While it appears you are already acquainted, I thought it still important for you to be here to establish a new working relationship. In the days ahead you may find yourselves closely collaborating with one another, in a partnership of sorts."

"Hold on," Bofur interrupted with a frown. "I don't think I signed off on that."

I shot Bofur a less than friendly look, but then turned back to Balin. "And I haven't even said yes yet." I added with a frown.

"Well," Hall remarked, straightening back up and crossing his arms. "Maybe I don't want to work for you either."

"You don't work for us." Balin snapped in an uncharacteristic loss of composure. What was it about Hall that always seemed to set dwarves on edge? Balin cleared his throat, and then continued slowly as if he were speaking to a complete imbecile. "Perhaps you should take it up with Bard if you're unhappy with your terms of employment. We invited you here today as a mere courtesy."

Balin looked about at the group then, and then shook his head. "On that note, if everyone is unhappy with this arrangement we might as well call this whole thing off… unless anyone has anything positive to add?"

The room fell silent, each of us brooding for our own reasons.

Darus leaned over to Baz and asked in an inauspiciously loud whisper "Will all the meetings be like this, do you reckon?"

Méra then huffed loudly, her chair scraping against the stone floor as she angrily pushed it back and stood up. She rounded on Bofur first, stabbing him in the chest with the tip of her finger since he was sitting nearest to her.

"You don't get to decide what your wife does or doesn't do, or even who she works with I might add!"

She then shot Hall one of her most fire-filled glares. "And you! I know you play the fool on purpose to throw people off their game, so cut the nonsense. You're not half as clever as you think you are."

And finally she turned to me. "Stop overthinking it and just take the damned job! Can't you see what an honour it is? But you deserve it, and you will be fine!"

At that, we all remained in a humble silence as it seemed that no one had any worthy retort. Méra levelled her eyes on me, and I knew she was desperately trying to lend me her support and strength, to urge me to take the position. She was intimidating, I admit, and in that moment I saw in her the perfect combination of her mother's cool collected authority and her father's volatile, charismatic assertiveness. I bit my lip as I returned her gaze, trying to convey the insecurity I felt, but she simply set her jaw and subtly nodded. After a moment I sighed but returned the tiniest of nods.

I would try, if only to keep from letting her down.

Our silent exchange, however, was all too apparent to Balin.

"That settles it then." he announced with a small smile, clasping his hand together. "Now, for your first assignment."

I left the meeting feeling like I had just dived into an ocean but didn't yet know how to swim. I had learnt that the room I had just exited would technically become my own personal office space, shared in part with Baz and Darus, who were to basically act as both my mentors and assistants. Also, though Balin had initially pitched the idea as an internship, that was more of a technicality. There was no one to really formally train me, and it wasn't even so much a trial either, though I had no doubt I could lose my new position if I did something wrong.

I felt a bit sick after the whole ordeal. I was just so very inexperienced and couldn't understand why I would be trusted to do something of such importance. To top it all off, my cohorts and I were to travel to Dale only three days hence to formally present ourselves and our services before Bard and his entire ruling council.

I leaned heavily back against a nearby wall waiting for Bofur, whom I thought had been just behind me but had apparently found reason to stall. Méra beamed at me as she flounced out of the room, but stated somewhat apologetically that she was late for another meeting and so I waved her off with a nod of understanding.

Baz and Darus filed out just after and I caught the tail end of their conversation before they headed off in the opposite direction of Méra.

"Secretive! That's what folk think of dwarves." Baz suddenly blurted out, slapping Darus on the arm with the back of his hand.

Darus tutted. "How could I have ever guessed that." he chastised as they rounded a corner and were lost from view.

Hall then emerged and, upon noticing me still lingering nearby, stuck his hands in his pockets and approached me in an oddly timid sort of fashion.

"Well, our stars cross yet again, Eleanor. Even after deadly explosions, subterfuge, imprisonment and wedlock, I still can't seem to shake you."

"You must know my real name by now." I chided with a small smile.

Hall just shrugged but said nothing further as at that moment Bofur finally decided to rejoin me.

"Ready to go?" he asked, barely sparing Hall a passing glance.

I nodded and pushed myself upright, but then hesitated as a darkness began clouding out my vision. An uncomfortable heat also flushed through my entire body even though I had felt cold just moments prior, and I felt suddenly unsure of my balance. I blinked a few times, trying to regain my composure, only vaguely aware that I was being spoken to. Not wanting to draw attention to my current predicament, I foolishly tried to take a few steps.

A moment later I was trying to make sense of the confused and worried look on Bofur's face, and the fact that I was sitting on the ground, leaning against his arm. Hall was standing a few paces behind him, looking down at me with a similarly puzzled and concerned expression.

"I'm fine." I assured quickly, moving to get up, but Bofur stilled my movements.

"You fainted." Hall said, taking a step forward and crossing his arms. "Are you sure you're alright here? If the stress of that new job is too much-"

"No!" I cut him off and shook my head, shifting again to at least sit up straighter on my own. "No, it's not that-"

"Is it stress from… other things?" Hall ventured, his gaze becoming filled with suspicion as it shifted to land on the back of Bofur's head. "You did look a bit strained today, even before the meeting started."

Bofur's expression darkened slightly as he turned to address Hall himself. "What exactly are you implying? You think she's being mistreated here?"

Bofur's attention and hold on me now lessened, I was able to scramble back to my feet in hopes of diffusing the situation.

"No, stop it, both of you are being ridiculous!" I smacked away Bofur's hand as he tried to take hold of my arm. "I'm perfectly alright, see? I just haven't had a chance to eat or drink anything almost all day since no one bothered to tell me about the silly meeting beforehand. I didn't even have time to wash my face after training before having to rush all the way here! Bofur, let's go. Hall, it was nice to see you."

I glowered at both of them, but neither challenged my word. Hall scratched his head.

"Wait." he said before I could take my grand exit. "What training?"

I huffed and shook my head, in no mood for further explanations. Instead I took Bofur firmly by the arm for once and ushered him along with me, leaving a very confused Hall in our wake.

Although I felt completely normal after drinking several cups of water and tucking into a plate of warm food, Bofur kept observing me rather critically. His blatant worrying only served to put me slightly on edge, so, to try and ease his mind I announced that I would use the afternoon to rest. He seemed pleased with the idea, and I knew full well that if I accepted this new position my life would be much busier in the days to come, so it probably wasn't a bad idea to relax while I still had the opportunity to.

It was halfway through a long soak in the bath, one of many I had enjoyed since the hustle and bustle of the wedding had ended, that I actually found myself growing restless. Bofur was busying himself at his workbench, whistling a tuneless song to himself, and I was left alone to my thoughts. I floated for a while on my back, checked my fingernails for imperfections for the dozenth time, untangled every last knot from my hair, submerged, found to my annoyance that my hair had insisted on tangling up again, then finally blew out a slow exasperated breath as boredom set in, and so it was that I began to come around to the idea of working again.

The following morning I woke early, and I made sure to eat and drink plenty before getting ready to leave.

Bofur got up with me and lamented the fact that I would be gone much of the day.

"I know." I agreed with a small frown, setting down my drink and reaching across the table to clasp his hand. "It'll be an adjustment to start spending more time apart, but who knows, this might be good for us, otherwise I'll run out of things to speak of and you'll soon find me dull as a rock."

Bofur chuckled and then gave my hand a tug, encouraging me out of my own seat and guiding me to sit back on his lap. I grinned and draped an arm casually over his shoulders.

"I don't think that's possible." he assured, his free hand coming to rest on my knee. "Besides, we've only really covered the basics - a simple who, what, when, where and why, but there are still depths we haven't delved. I don't know your fondest memory, for instance, or your deepest fears... what you wish you could do but haven't been able to yet. I don't even know your favourite colour. Also, rocks are not dull in the slightest! There's geological diversity in even the smallest pebble. I think you humans take rocks for granite!"

He seemed very pleased with that bit of wordplay, but I simply looked at him witheringly, waiting for the expectant look on his face to falter.

"Well…" I finally began with a grin. "First off, I hate puns. Never do another."

Bofur laughed, slapping his hand down on my leg.

"Fondest memory is easy," I continued, "the day you asked me to marry you, it was perfect, all of it." I smiled fondly at the recollection of our adventure through the ice caves and to the cavern of glow worms, followed by the jovial dinner party in celebration with our friends.

Bofur smiled as well, his hand tightening on my knee, and I took a moment to ponder his other questions.

"I suppose my favourite colour is blue - that light but intense blue of some lakes on a sunny day. And I wish to someday…" I paused and bit my lip, then shifted somewhat self consciously. "Would you think me completely naive to want to have my own horse one day?" I asked, but then quickly felt foolish and tried to explain. "Not just for work or travel or anything… but simply to bond with, and ride for fun sometimes. Like the ones at Beorn's, not that I think he rides them, but they were all so beautiful..."

Bofur cut me off before I could continue babbling. "No, I understand, and that's a fine thing to wish for! You know, Bombur, when we were lads, he had this goat, and he loved the silly thing so damned much. He was always off riding it, just bareback you know, holding onto the horns, going as fast as all get out. Eventually he just got too heavy, and the poor goat was getting old at that point too, but he still went and brushed that creature to a sheen every single night until it died."

I smiled and shook my head. Bofur always had the most eccentric stories, and for the life of me I could not quite picture a young, slim Bombur racing around on the back of a goat.

"What's your favourite colour then?" I enquired lightheartedly.

"Hmm, I don't know if I have one. Perhaps the colour of your hair."

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him. "So gold then? I should have guessed."

I felt his hand slide up my back and into my hair.

"You humans have such bleak opinions of us dwarves." He scolded idly, running his fingers amongst the strands and drawing them over into his palm.

"You forget that I've seen these locks in and amongst the great treasure hoard of Thror, and when given a choice, I would choose this colour every time. Gold is such a self-absorbed, selfish colour really; it's always 'look at me' and 'pay attention'. Your hair is softer, subtle, more mysterious, like daybreak on the shores of the Sea of Rhun, and pale moonlight on honey, and the first blush of leaves turning in autumn, a kaleidoscope of colour - not just gold."

"You're very poetic when you want to be." I murmured, leaning into his touch.

"You could say I found my muse." His hand trailed from my hair to my cheek, then softly brushed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip before guiding me into a slow kiss. He paused before I could completely melt against him, however, and shifted to meet my eye once more. His gaze had become somewhat heavy.

"And what about your fears?" Bofur coaxed gently.

"Apart from spiders?" I clarified, nudging him playfully in the ribs. He smiled but remained quiet, clearly still expecting a more serious answer. I sombered, frowning as the words presented themselves but got stuck in my throat. I dropped my eyes and managed to carry on more quietly. "I- I'm afraid of not knowing what's to come. I'm afraid that one day, maybe not ten or even twenty years hence, but thirty years from now when I am really aged, and you're still the same, that when you look at me you'll…" I faltered for a moment, then shook my head slightly before continuing. "Please just promise me you won't ever just stay with me because you pity me."

"Pity you?" Bofur stated wondrously, as though the thought had never occurred to him. "The only reason I'd pity you after all that time is for putting up with me for that long!" He held his arms open, and I allowed him to guide me into his embrace. "If you stick with me, I'll love every wrinkle, every rickety creaking joint, every gray hair, because you'll have gotten them all sharing your days with me, and that, amrâlimê, is what I'll be wishing for."

I turned and pressed my face into his chest, groaning in mock exasperation. "Bofur, your silver tongue is truly exhausting! Why must you always say the exact right thing?"

"As much as I find you beautiful no matter the mood, I prefer you with a smile."

I sat back up slightly to grin at him before I leaned in and pressed my lips against his.

"On that note," Bofur continued, dipping his head down to my neck and nuzzling the area under my ear. "I'll wager that's not the only way my silver tongue can exhaust you.

I quickly decided that I was perfectly alright with being late to work - even if it was my first day.

I sheepishly entered my office not long before noon to find it in a much different state than how I had hastily left it the day prior. The bookshelves, now filled with all manner of books, flanked the fireplace, the mantle of which had been adorned with an eclectic mix of dwarven and human decor that even carried out onto the bookshelves in places. Two ridiculously comfortable looking armchairs and a chaise ringed the logs that blazed merrily beyond the hearth. The desk had been half tucked into a corner, making it look much less like a throne as it had when it sat just beyond the head of the massive meeting table, which was notably nowhere to be seen. Two smaller desks had been brought in, along with more cabinets and a smaller table and chairs, all of which still sat in the center of the room in limbo. I was so shocked by the changes that I didn't notice my coworkers until Darus nearly fell off a chair he was standing on in the corner.

"Grip the handle further down!" Baz encouraged after steadying his partner, who I could see now was holding a hammer in one hand and a large masonry spike in the other. Never had I ever seen a dwarf look so uncomfortable using a tool before.

Darus adjusted his grip, but then finally noticed that I was observing them. He squinted his eyes slightly, with what I took for an almost embarrassed smile ghosting around his mouth. It was then I realized that he actually reminded me slightly of Kili in appearance. He had black hair, though it was shorter and more curly. He also had a thicker beard, but it was kept quite close to the face which, although longer than the stubble that had graced Kili's face, was still very small by dwarven standards. His eyes were a rather striking pale blue, in contrast to what I remembered of Kili's rich brown, but he had a similar air of animated youth about him, along with a very familiar glint of perpetual playfulness behind his gaze.

"Well, you caught me." He hopped down off the chair, dramatically shrugging his arms with tools still held awkwardly. "I just so happen to be the only dwarf in all of dwarvendom who can't wield a hammer."

"I can see that." I stated bluntly, eyeing up the wall which had been chipped up all around his target, but never actually punctured. "I thought all dwarves were born with hammers in their hands." I continued, trying to sound as serious as I could - even Darus's sense of humour reminded me of the dwarven prince, so on a whim I responded teasingly, as I would have to Kili what felt like a lifetime ago.

"I was born with a baton, actually." He followed up matter-of-factly, delicately and precisely placing the hammer and nail down on the chair with a bit of a distasteful look.

"Ah yes, the most respected of all dance accessories." Baz appraised sarcastically, patting Darus heartily on the back before taking it upon himself to complete the job his friend had started.

While Baz set to work hanging paintings, maps and tapestries (some of them for working reference, others purely decoration), Darus and I finished arranging the remainder of the furniture - and I found a degree of closure that on the first day of my new job, I was doing much the same as I had at my old one. I also felt slightly accomplished as, on a few occasions, I suggested a change that Darus admitted was actually much better than his original intent.

By the time we finished, I had decided that I quite liked the pair, and was very much looking forward to working with them in the future.

That evening I received a message scroll from Méra that bid me to come for early morning training with Ganin. The letter had been sealed, and yet to my bewilderment she still wrote in code, inviting me to a 'knitting session' at dawn. Though I felt rather worn out, I couldn't refuse the opportunity to practice with my new sword again so I resolved myself to heading to bed early in order to have the energy to join her.

"You really should tell them, you know." I counselled Méra the following day between heavy, careful breaths. I found that I was having to really focus to keep from panting, and was shocked at how out of shape I felt after no more than a month of wedding preparation and execution. Of course, it might also have been the fact that we were side by side, slowly moving through Ganin's set of complex drills for the sixth time in a single session. A sheen of sweat had broken out over my entire body, and it pleased me to notice that even Méra's breathing seemed to have finally increased in pace, though just by an infinitesimal amount. Ganin grumbled corrections here and there in khuzdul, and I was expected to understand them, and so it was that he seemed to be extending his tutelage to language as well as swordplay. He rarely put an end to our conversations though - communication on the battlefield was important after all, especially under stressful and physically demanding circumstances.

"Pah, you sound like my brother." Méra scolded, shifting into the next pose without so much as a look my way.

She so rarely spoke of her family beyond her parents, which caused my own transition to come a second too late and earn me the reproach of our teacher. I fell back into time with Méra and urged her on.

"Your brother knows about your training?"

"Who do you think started teaching me to fight to begin with?" she asked, grinning fondly despite herself. It was a more genuine and introspective look than that which she usually wore - and all the more rare considering her usual banter about her family members involved complaints of one sort or another. "As the oldest brother, he'd be expected to be first in line to defend my honour, and my life, should the need arise. 'Course, I didn't make it easy on him by always sneaking off to the mines, or smithies, or nearby woods, so he interpreted his duty a bit differently than most lads do and started teaching his sister to do it herself."

She moved to the next pose and I once again fell behind. She was usually so reserved when it came to talking about deeply personal topics, so it caught me off guard. Ganin corrected me again, more forcefully this time.

"He had Ganin swear to keep training me. They've fought in battle together before, you ken… otherwise I'd still be training with Thorin if 'Da hadn't had me dragged me off to this bloody mountain."

She fell silent for a moment, and then sniffed, and I dropped my stance altogether to turn and regard her carefully.

"Sweat's run down into my eye is all." The princess grimaced, as she too faltered and wiped her brow with the back of her sword hand. I heard the sound of footsteps and looked back to Ganin briefly, expecting an impending intervention after how off track we had gotten, only to realize he was walking casually away to a far corner of the room to inspect one of the training swords in better light.

"Why don't you go visit him?" I pressed as gently as I could.

"And miss out on the gossip next time you come into an important meeting wearing naught but your small clothes? Not a chance." Besides, you're far more interesting than the stuffy new 'Lord of the Iron Hills'."

I must have been looking at her in disbelief, as she blew a strand of orange from her face while looking away somewhat sheepishly. I would have given anything to have just one more moment with my family, and here she was purposely distancing herself from even the ones she liked.

"I still think you should open up to your parents." I stated again with a small shrug of my shoulders, trying to sound nonchalant.

Méra studied me a moment and then reached out towards my hand. After staring at it for a moment I took hers in a light grasp but then looked to her in confusion.

"I'm sorry. I can see you think me crass, and I know I shouldn't be taking any of them for granted. But see, I'm just a wee bit afraid. I think that if I give them any more grief, they'll send me away… and as much as I would enjoy seeing my big brother, I do have family here that I care about." She gave my hand a squeeze. "You know, I've always wanted a sister…"

I smiled. As much as I appreciated the sentiment, however, I had an inkling she wasn't telling me everything. "Would it really be so bad to go back to the Iron Hills though?" I asked, letting go of her hand and glancing at Ganin who was now slowly wandering back towards us.

"Oh maker, yes! I'd rather fight the damned dragon than go back there anyways. Too many would-be suitors, and they know all my old hiding spots there. Would you believe they used to get together in some sad little 'eligible bachelors' club and share notes on where to find me and how to impress me?"

I could only grin in response as she then whirled around and grabbed the training swords.

"Enough with all the jabberin' now, let's spar!"

My final day before having to travel to Dale was spent in a fluster of nervous energy. I was aware that some of my stress was misplaced, afterall I knew Bard and, even during the short span of time I had gotten to know him more personally, I felt we had built deeper connections that could only come of sharing very emotionally charged experiences; such as the orc raid on his home, the dragon attack on Laketown, and the Battle of the Five Armies to name a few. And so I felt we were still on quite good terms (not even mentioning my slowly blossoming friendship with his eldest daughter). Still, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that he might find it difficult to view me in a more professional light, and worried that he might not be as willing to trust me as a formal ally in which he could place actual confidence and serious responsibility upon.

As such, my anxiety, strong as it was, began to infect Darus and Baz, so we spent much of the day organizing, then reorganizing our thoughts and plans. We spent hours drafting up documents outlining various aspects of trade that might be reopened, best methods for communication, proposed meeting schedules, goals, obstacles, hopes, whims, fancies...

Finally Darus threw down his quill and rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Please, let's just call it a day." He then squinted down at the parchment he had been working on. "The last thing I wrote was about reintroducing the greater lemming to the watershed region. Do you really think that's relevant at this point? I was under the belief that tomorrow was supposed to be just more of an introduction."

I finally took a moment from the book I was pouring over and surveyed our now very cluttered work table, then I looked to my colleagues with a sheepish grin. "No harm in being a bit over prepared, right?" I asked with a small shrug.

Baz nodded and smiled in a comforting manner. "I don't think you need to worry so much, lass. I'm sure it'll all go well. But I agree with Darus, it's time we all turn in. Nothing good ever comes from a sleepless night."

"That's debatable." Darus countered with a sly grin at Baz, who tutted but then winked in response. I smiled, slightly confused, but without further preamble they shooed me on my way, assuring me that they would clean up everything and pack for the morning. After hesitating a moment on the threshold, I realized how exhausted I truly felt, and so simply thanked them heartily and returned to my chambers.

Darus, Baz and I arrived in Dale later in the morning than we had hoped, having been delayed by a small flurry - the sort in late spring that melts as it hits the ground but leaves everything and everyone just a tad unpleasant. We pulled up to the causeway with a small escort - that is to say, a cart driver and a guard, and disembarked to walk through the city - the part of our plan which had led us to delay, as such a walk in sleet would have been a bad start to our day.

The road from the mountain was so well travelled these days that the many of the mountain's soldiers with families had been given leave to return home to the Iron Hills, and of those who remained many had found other work to pass the time. As such, the military escorts were now only really called out in situations of heavy pomp and circumstance.

Apparently we did not qualify.

Which was a pity, because Darus was proving woefully inept at carrying more than a scant few of the maps and documents we had prepared for the Lord of Dale and his compatriots, leaving Baz and I to carry more than our fair share lest our companion drop them into the slush. Despite the chill of early morning in springtime, I broke into a sweat halfway up the long, winding walk from the city wall to the Great Hall, with the droplets of melting snow falling off the rooftops doing a good job of dampening my spirits, and my attire, even further.

"Who's bright idea was it to walk through Dale, again?" I asked, casting a dire look up at the third stairway shortcut we were about to climb to reach our appointment on time. "I made it from the hall to the causeway in about three minutes flat on horseback once, you know." I admonished before blowing a water droplet from my nose and starting the ascent.

"If we want to be envoys to the people of Dale, we need to truly know them. To experience their lives, their hardships and triumphs." Baz piped up cheerfully, matching my pace. The idea had been his, unsurprisingly, and his good mood despite the weather was only serving to irritate me further.

By the time we finally reached the Great Hall, I was breathing heavily and felt damp all over. I had forgotten half of my carefully prepared and rehearsed speech, and doubted some of our newly drafted documents would even be readable now, though Baz carried the more official and delicate parchment and scrolls in protective cases, thankfully. In fact, our whole first foray into the world of politics was off to such a lousy start that I was on the verge of suggesting we turn back, to reschedule for another time, and I very well may have - had Hall not dashed down the steps to greet us with enough urgency that I suspected we were not the only ones having a rough start.

"Good, you're here. There's urgent business being discussed, we need to get inside now." he explained bluntly with no preamble, placing an arm on my back and ushering me towards a side door. By my reckoning we were right on time, but sensing the uncharacteristic weight to his voice I hurried along as quick as my burning legs could carry me, re-hefting my burden awkwardly as I did. Apparently I wasn't the most tired looking member of our party, however, as after I took a few steps up I heard Hall huff loudly and descend, only to pass me a moment later carrying all of Darus's load, shaking his head and muttering something about dwarves that I was glad neither I nor my companions could make out.

The great hall was a flurry of activity and bodies bustling about, far more people than what made up the ruling council of Dale, and a far more diverse crowd than that which we had expected. Caravan drivers and merchants mulled over ledgers and lists, local militia looked down upon maps while scouts, woodsmen, and a few rather haggard looking farmers pointed and gestured in turn. Amidst it all, Bard seemed to be having several conversations at once, while Sigrid followed close behind, presumably scribbling notes and reminders for her father.

"I have a feeling we won't be discussing greater lemmings today…" I ventured offhand to Darus as the three of us were noticed and approached by Bard and his entourage.

"I hear they're great predators to reintroduce biodiversity in threatened wetlands." Hall piped up from where he materialized beside me. "If you want a wagon-full brought up from Rohan I can arrange it, but I warn you, they do stink, so we'll have to pay the driver extra."

His digression left my companions and I with rather bemused looks on our faces, which we were only half able to recover from before Bard was upon us with his grim-as-always countenance. Hall, I noticed, seemed to give no indication of leading us off topic, and even had the gall to give us a slightly critical look as though judging us for not reading the mood better. And yet, a quick dart of his mischievous eyes my way hinted that maybe he was simply teasing me for letting my guard slip. I narrowed my eyes to glare at him ever so slightly.

"As I was trying to explain," Hall began, despite having given no actual explanation, "...things are in a bad way right now."

"Why don't we hear it all from the beginning?" Baz interjected, perhaps picking up on Hall's trickery and playing along in stride. I made a mental note that perhaps my dwarven allies were sharper than initial appearances suggested - and to take my lead from them in diplomatic matters in the future.

"There's been a series of attacks on villages south of the city." Bard began, ushering us over to the maps sprawled out across a table. Hall deposited our own maps and scrolls on a bench that had been pushed up against a wall, and Baz and I followed suit before turning to take in the situation with full attention.

"You mentioned those orcs that survived fled South into the Brown Lands…" I recalled from one of our first meetings back in the early winter, my hand reaching out to trace down past the River Running, following their imagined flight into lands east of Mirkwood unknown to me save by name, before turning my eyes questionably back up towards Bard.

"Not orcs, M'lady." one of the farmers interjected, and while I thought to correct him, to point out that I was by no means nobility, I was stopped by a gentle nudge from Hall's elbow as he too seemed to look over the map. It was then that I looked at the farmer, truly looked at him, and realized that worrying about how to address me should be the least of his concerns right now. He was younger than he seemed at first glance, the illusion of age brought on by worry and grime and gauntness that only starvation could bring on. He was also favouring one side of his body due to injuries I could only guess at, forcing him to gesture towards the map uncomfortably with his uninjured arm.

"Wild men from out of the East, they was. Stole what they could of what we had, and burned the rest. And we 'ain't the only ones." He pointed towards one of the larger villages along the River Running, and then to two more further downriver. Bard thanked the man, and then sent him off to rest. Judging by the map, which already had the villages marked, he had given his account at least once already.

"Hall has called in favours and a relief caravan is being mobilized as we speak. He will provide the wagons and rations for travel, others about town will donate goods and supplies, but that leaves us with one very big problem." He gestured generally inland of the river. "Somewhere out here is an enemy we know almost nothing about." He looked up at us all. "I've asked for volunteers to act as guards, but I can not, will not, order anyone into danger. Not after all they've lost."

"Which is where we come in." I concluded.

"Which is where you come in." Bard agreed.

"If it's a chance of a fight you're offering," Baz chimed in. "I just might know a few lads willing to join you."

We left Dale that evening having utterly failed our planned task, and leaving only a pile of documents and maps behind as evidence that we had anything prepared at all. Instead, we left with a newfound sense of purpose, and our first real assignment - an easy one at that: to bring the fierce fighting prowess of the dwarven military back into the field.

Needless to say, we left Erebor two days later with what turned out to be a good deal more than 'a few' willing lads.