A/N: Thank you to everyone who's left a review! It's really nice to know that people are enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. It's also really quite motivating, and I'm sorry I can't update this more than once a week or once every two weeks. :( Real life can be a turd sometimes. Also, if you've any questions about what's going on or where I'm getting Khuzdul from or whatnot, feel free to shoot me a PM. And, one last thing…if any of you are artists and feel inclined to do a doodle based off of this story, feel free! Just shoot me a PM with a link to the final product ;)

Chapter Seven

Over the course of the next two weeks, much work had been accomplished at Bifur and Bofur's shop. Once they had managed to get their new window installed (Will doing most of the work on that), their pace in cleaning and building nearly doubled. Part of the work they had been forced to give out to other furniture makers, for Will was already quite busy building the display shelves for the front of the store. He had referred the dwarves to some of his friends and managed to get them a bit of a discount for all the things they would be buying.

While they waited on the furniture, they turned their attention to the plain, white walls. It had taken the better part of four days to cover them in a new layer of plaster, but now that they were set and dried, they were ready for their first coat of paint. The only problem was, though, deciding on a color. Or colors. The two of them weren't quite sure yet.

"I really think a rich, golden yellow would look nice in here."

"Tsahif? Ranakuh danuk."

"Green?"

"Za."

"Why green?"

Bifur shrugged. "Khama khi ghelekh inzurul. Hôfuk inzurul."

"Well, yes it's a good color but…green everywhere wouldn't look too good. It'd make us feel like we're in a forest again. You wouldn't want that, would you? I mean…you were begging t' get out of Mirkwood when we got trapped in it."

"Kulhu yomul khagol? Shathûl."

Bofur scratched his beard, looking around the room. "I think blue would be good on the ceiling. Maybe we could get Ori t' paint a big ol' sun right in the middle where the chandelier will hang?" He glanced at his cousin, seeing him nod approvingly. "So. Blue for the ceiling."

"Kulhu nê unùkhudhabmâ mahzurm lî zaharab?" he suggested, combing his fingers through his beard in a thoughtful manner. He pointed at a wall, making various gestures with his hands by now. "Beknu hund ra zurm ra nungûng lî ayazahar. Khîm âzyung khi."

Bofur was silent for a moment as he took another look around. He held his chin between his index finger and thumb, pondering deeply the words that Bifur had spoken. To have the walls painted like the outside, with trees and flowers and rolling hills would make the place seem more childlike, he thought, and it could make the place seem more open and inviting. Especially when they brought in their wares and hung their kites and flags from the ceiling…

"I like it," he spoke at last, grinning. "Looks like we'll be havin' to keep young Ori here for a while longer than Dori would like."

Bifur snorted. "Dori khund tunuz."

"Of course he would. He's a mother hen."

Again, Bifur snorted. "Bock bock," he snickered.

"Hey!" Bofur patted him heartily on the back. "That's almost speakin' Westron!" He blinked, pausing as he heard the door open. Turning around, he found Ori poking his head in. "Ah, just the dwarrow we were lookin' for!" he smiled. Walking over to the younger dwarf, he clapped him on the back. "How'd you like to stay in Dale another two weeks?" he offered.

Ori's eyes widened and grinned. "I'd really like that," he said. He was supposed to go back to Erebor that day and he had not been looking forward to it at all. His newfound freedom was all too enjoyable. "But…what could convince Dori?"

Happily rocking on his heels, Bofur put his hands behind his back. "Well, it would seem that Bifur and I are in need o' some help painting this place up," he explained. "And, well…you're an artistic lad, Ori. Bifur and me are only good at painting when it comes to little wooden figures or on kites. We're hopeless when it comes to big things like rooms. Splatter paint everywhere, we do. Why, you should see my room back in our mansion! It's a hideous mess." That, of course, was a lie; his room in the mansion had been painted quite a lovely shade of robin's egg blue.

Coming fully into the shop, Ori closed the door behind him. "Well…ah, when would you like me to get started?" he asked. "And what colors were you thinking?"

"Ranakmâ unùkhudhab hund, zurm, ra nungûng ayazahar. Ya'khagol uberenjmuz tsahifur ûzud ayamelhek khun khud tum," Bifur explained, using his hands to help further explain their ideas. While he spoke, Ori listened and watched carefully, nodding once in awhile to show that he understood.

"So," said the young dwarf, "you want me to paint a big mural." He walked over to the closet wall. "And you want it to basically be this big open field with all these flowers and hills and trees?" While talking, he ran his hand along the surface of the plaster; it felt smooth enough to take a coat or two of paint without many spots left behind.

"All sorts o' different flowers," Bofur told him. "But they don't have t' look perfect. This is a toyshop, not a king's palace. An' we'd like it if you got started as soon as you could. After all, young William's nearly got the first o' our shelves done."

He nodded again. "Well, looks like I'll have to search out Dale's market for the right minerals to make the paints then," he grinned, slightly rubbing his hands together. He was already itching to get started. "But if I can't find them here, I know I can get them in Erebor."

"Ah, don't worry about it, lad." Bofur patted him on the shoulder. "Bifur an' me will be going to Erebor in the next few days to gather up our wares and visit the family. See if Gerdi's given birth yet. It'd be a shame if we missed that feast…"

He nodded in understanding. "Alright. I'll still keep my eye out, though. I still have to paint that sign once Will finishes it and I don't know if I'll run out of paint by then." He smiled sheepishly.

The door to the shop opened again and the dwarves turned, expecting to see Baylee stepping through with a basket of food (it had become a habit of hers to bring them lunch) but they were shocked to instead find Nori coming into the building –and Dori was nowhere in sight. He wore a small grin as he saw his brother and friends and he came into the shop, closing the door behind him. With a small pack on his back, it seemed he was ready to go off on an adventure.

"Nori?" Ori blinked, his head tilted.

"What in the world brings ya here?" Bofur asked, his head tilting as well, but in the opposite direction. "You're the last dwarrow I expected t' see walkin' in here. Well, next t' Dwalin, but really. Why would Dwalin want t' come into a toy shop of all places?"

Nori raised his braided brow before grinning in a friendly way, though his little brother was able to see some nervousness behind the look. "Well, with Ori supposed t' be coming back today," he began, "I thought I'd come here and keep an eye on him so he could stay for a bit longer. You know, keep him out of Dori's nest so he can stretch his wings a bit more." He shrugged. "And just to see how you lot have been doing." Glancing around, he could see that the building had been vastly improved since he had first seen it nearly a month ago. "It's looking good in here."

"Durinme turg, khi sakhab ghelekh!" Bifur grinned. "Khi katâhhôr ughlekh darûnur."

Nodding, Nori hooked his thumbs in his belt. "I would imagine. This window already lets in a lot more light; you won't be needing to light any candles until the moon's well in the sky."

Bofur wrapped his arm around Ori's shoulder, grinning. "Ori here is goin' to be paintin' this room up to look like the fields," he boasted to Nori. "So even if Dori wanted him back, he can't have him. It'll be two weeks at the very least, because there's also a sign he needs to paint."

"Is that so?" Nori tilted his head, looking at his little brother with some pride in his eyes. "You're just having the time of your life here, aren't you?"

Ori managed a small smile and nodded, though he didn't say another; he was still curious as to why Nori was really here. Nori wasn't the type to show up out of the blue without reason –and that reasoning was normally on the wrong side of the law.

Grinning, Nori peeked past the three and into the back room. "Is that to be your work room or the kitchen?" he inquired.

Bofur grabbed his arm, leading him off to show him around. "Actually, it's a bit of a store room, kitchen, and work room. The real work room, though, is up here-" He started to lead Nori towards the stairs, but Ori hurried over, grabbing his brother's other arm.

"Actually, Nori, a word?" He gave his brother a look before giving Bofur an apologetic smile. "Excuse us."

Dragging Nori off before either he or Bofur could argue, he tugged him outside. Across the yard (which they had yet to tend to), Will was shaving planks of sturdy wood down to smoothness. He gave the two dwarves a small wave before continuing his work. Ori pulled Nori to a secluded corner that was mostly taken up by an ancient-looking plum tree and a large, bushy honeysuckle plant.

"Ori, what's the big deal?" Nori demanded, pulling his arm away from his little brother.

Glancing around to make sure they would not be overheard, Ori crossed his arms, wearing a slight pout. "What happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he told him, his tone defensive –too defensive to be believable.

"You're nervous! You only get nervous when you've done something that goes against the law," he argued, staring up at his brother. "Otherwise, you would be there and not here. So you can stop your lying. I've heard all the excuses time an' time again."

A defeated sigh left Nori's mouth and he glanced away. "It's nothin' serious, khînadad," he gently told him. "There's just been some bad air stirred up between me 'n another male-"

"What did you do?" he demanded again. "If you're here and not there, it's bad."

Nori rubbed his face, feeling both rather frustrated and guilty. "I may have had too much to drink one night…" He trailed off.

"Go on," Ori said, brows knitted together quite tightly.

He cursed under his breath. "You know that human apprentice of Malzîr Stonehewer?" Ori nodded. "Well, he 'n his wife were at my favorite tavern along with a few other humans. Well, we got goin' in a game of dice. There was ale and beer and gold a'plenty on that table, so I thought I could sneak myself some extra gold-"

"You don't need extra gold! You got a fourteenth share from Dain-"

"I was drunk and they were drunk," he said flatly. He shook his head. "Well, I won their gold."

Ori raised his brow. "That's hardly ever gotten you in trouble. You've become too good at cheating people out of their money with dice."

"And it didn't get me in trouble this time, either. The fact I left with the lad's wife, however…" Ori's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, gawking at his brother. Nori wore a sheepish grin.

He hit his brother's arm, a large frown on his face. "Nori! I thought you had left that life behind you!" He managed to keep himself from shouting. "You can't keep bedding other people's wives, even if they're human! It still goes against our laws-" He was silenced as Nori clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I know," he told his little brother quietly. "It was a slip of judgment, Ori. Like I said, I was drunk. But the lass –oh no, she was sober. She didn't have a drink of alcohol that whole night. She's just as guilty as me –more so, since she was the one dragging me out the door." He shook his head, his braided bits of beard flicking back and forth. "Everything's going to be alright," he reassured him, letting go of his mouth.

Ori looked away, the hurt too clear on his face. "Do you know how many times you've said that to me and things weren't alright?" he asked quietly. He looked down at the ground, kicking a rock into the honeysuckle. "I'm tired of seeing you in jail, Nori. If you get caught again, Dori won't bail you out and…and I don't know if I would bail you out either." He glanced up as Nori set his hand on his shoulder.

"I know, khînadad," he agreed, "and I know I shouldn't have done it. But it's happened and here I am for awhile. But –you've got to admit one thing."

"What's that?"

"First offense in five years." He grinned. "It's been a long while." He blinked as Ori suddenly poked him in the center of his chest, a scolding look on his features. If he hadn't been so startled, he would have laughed; with his cheeks slightly puffed out and the scowl on his lips, he looked quite a bit like Dori.

"You better not try any of that while you're here –especially if you're stayin' at the Tankard!" his younger brother warned. "Miss Baylee an' her family have been nothing but helpful to us and it'd be more than a little rude to have some of our folk dragging you out of their establishment an' soiling its good name!" He glanced past his brother, making sure that they hadn't caught Will's attention; they hadn't.

Nori set both hands on his shoulders now. "Don't you worry your lil' braided head, khînadad," he chuckled. "I swear that nothing of the sort will happen."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Ori nodded. He said nothing though; he knew that Nori couldn't keep all of his promises. He had learned that at a relatively young age. His middle brother used to promise to take him on his 'adventures' or let him join him when he went to the market. Those promises rarely came to fruition.

"Does Dori know you're here?"

"Aye, he does. I wasn't lyin' when I said I was coming to watch over you so you could stay a bit longer." He patted his little brother on the back. "I know you like it here; anyway, it's good for you to be away from the mansion for a bit."

His brow rose. "So he doesn't know…?" Nori shook his head. "If he finds out, he'll cut your beard off, you know that, right?"

Nori smirked. "All the more reason to be here and not there."

"Bróðir! Ég leiddi yður mat svo koma og borða!"

The two dwarves jumped, looking at the doorway in surprise. Baylee was standing there, her hands on her hips as she looked at her brother, who seemed to have been just as surprised as them. He turned, seeing her. He raised his brow, setting down his tools and starting to walk towards her.

"Það er ekki kurteisi að tala í tungumálum aðrir geta ekki skilið, Baylee," he told her, using the same language that she had used to call him over. "Vinir okkar getur held að við erum að segja leyndarmál."

Her brows furrowed. "Hvað?" Will nodded to the corner of the yard and she turned. As soon as she spotted the dwarves, her cheeks turned deep red. "Oh, hello lads!" Biting her tongue in embarrassment, she gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry I didn't see ya there –oh! Master Nori, pleasant t' be seeing you again!"

He gave her a small bow. "At your service," he chuckled.

Ori had his head tilted. "What language was that?" he inquired. He thought it sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

She shrugged. "Not sure if it has a name, really. Northern, I guess?" She looked at Will, who also shrugged. "It's our native tongue. It was spoken quite openly down in Lake-Town, but now that we're up in Dale an' are gettin' so much more trade an' foreign visitors, I guess it's just become habit t' use Westron when we're out in the open like this."

He nodded slowly, digesting her words. Then, he whipped out his travel notebook and, pulling a sharpened stick of graphite from somewhere up his sleeve, he started to scribble something across the page. Leaning over his shoulder, Nori glanced down at what he wrote.

"Ah, you've got him interested," he warned the human siblings. "He'll be askin' you to talk in that tongue for a long while now."

Ori's cheeks turned pink and he indignantly looked away. "I like learning new things," he retorted, snapping the book shut and retying it to his belt.

Bofur poked his head out of the back door, his brow raised. He then held aloft an entire meat pie as if it were some precious piece of treasure. "Food," he told them, trying to make his voice sound somewhat mystical. "Bifur and I will eat it all before—Oi! I wasn't done yet, you!" Nori had snatched the pie off of his hand and darted inside the building past him. "Get back here! That's my pie!" he cried, chasing after him.

Baylee and Will burst out laughing while Ori shook his head. 'Nori,' he thought, 'causes trouble everywhere he goes…'

Warren quietly sighed as he leaned over a table, wiping down its surface. It was a couple of hours until dinner, leaving the common room rather empty; only two people were eating and they were Demelza and Richard. They were discussing plans about Richard traveling to Lake Town in the coming weeks and which route down would be safest.

He shook his head slightly and went to go clean the bar down. Unless a great need arose, he would not go back to the city anytime soon. It bore too much sorrow for him, especially after the War.

"Papa?" He glanced up, hearing his daughter's voice. Baylee was standing in front of him, looking at him with some concern. "Are you alright?" She was holding something behind her back.

"I'm fine, 'Lee," he reassured her, a smile on his lips. "What do ya need?"

She glanced over at her aunt and uncle, the latter watching her. "Well…two things. First o' all…" Setting a basket on the bar, she tugged back a cloth that covered its contents. "I got ya a little present."

Peering in, Warren could see that the basket was filled with all sorts of sweets ranging from hard candies to soft caramels and even a few of his favorite sorts of cookies. He grinned, his large hand reaching in to take some of the treats before he stopped himself. A cautious look came to his features and he looked at his daughter, who was smiling innocently.

"What do you want?" he asked, brow rising. "You only get me candy when you want somethin' an' don't you try to deny it, 'Lee." Standing up, he crossed his arms and gave her a rather fatherly look.

She pouted. "Uncle Richard wants me t' come with him t' Lake Town," she told him, knowing it would be useless to sugar-coat her words, "an' I want t' know if-"

"No," he answered before she could finish.

"Why not?"

"It's dangerous." He plucked one of the hard candies out of the basket and, unwrapping it from its paper, tossed it in his mouth. "It's a five-day journey and with this news of raiders attacking the Dorwinion trading caravans, I don't want my daughter risking her neck."

She frowned –an expression he was not quite used to seeing on his daughter. "But those are t' the east, papa! We'll be goin' south an' travelin' by river for the trip down. That'll cut that part o' the journey down t' three days –two, if the river is movin' fast enough. Uncle plans on stayin' at Winifred an' Jorvik's inn for the week an' then we'll walk back up here. We would barely be gone for three weeks!" A pleading look came to her features as she looked up at him.

His brow rose as he stared down at her; the pleading look almost made him want to give in. His bushy brows were pressed together as he thought over her words. "Just because we've heard no news of raids to the south doesn't mean they aren't likely," he at last told her, his voice stern. "What if you two were to get attacked? Your uncle is no fighter, Baylee, and it's been five years since you last used a weapon."

She bit her tongue, her eyes darting away from him for a moment. "I'll…I'll start sparring with Will and Aunt Demelza again," she murmured. Her eyes looked up at him, determination in them. Warren knew that look all too well; he had seen it in his late-wife's eyes all too often. "And, on the off chance we are attacked, at least one o' us will be able to take some defensive measures." Something in the corner of her vision moved; glancing over, she saw Richard moving towards them.

"If I may add, Warren," he said, "it will not be just us two traveling. A few other healers will be joining us, as well as my brother an' his sons. We will have more than enough brave warriors with us." A reassuring smile came to his lips.

Warren scratched his beard; a sign that he was deep in thought. Baylee waited with baited breath, feeling her uncle rest his hand on her shoulder. At last, he let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "I still want her to spar with Demelza or Will," he told the two of them. "Just in case. So long as ya practice every day…" he paused, watching as a grin slowly came to his daughter's lips, "you can go." Half of a smile came to his lips.

Baylee darted around the bar and hopped up, giving him a tight hug. "Thank ya, papa!" she grinned, her feet dangling off of the ground as she clung to him. Sometimes, he forgot just how small she was compared to him.

He rolled his eyes, though wore a small grin. "Oh, stop it," he murmured, gently pushing her back down. "Demelza!" he called. His sister-in-law looked up. "You up for a sparrin' match?"

And so it was, when William and the dwarves returned to the inn that evening, they were greeted by the sounds of clashing metal and feminine grunts coming from the inn yard. Confused, the males poked their head around the corner just in time to see Baylee get knocked to the ground by her aunt, a dented sword flying out of her hand. Bofur let out a small curse and started to dart forward, but Bifur quickly grabbed hold of his pigtails, holding him back.

Baylee grunted and scrambled onto her knees, darting out of the way as Demelza lunged at her, two axes in her hands. They had been wrapped in thick cloth, blunting their edges to make the sparring less dangerous. Scooping up her sword, Baylee charged forward, starting to swing at her aunt, who merely stepped aside. Demelza was a little surprised when she realized that Baylee had feinted, the dull point of the sword pressed into her stomach.

"Kill for me," Baylee panted before collapsing onto her knees. Burying the end of her sword in the earth, she grasped its hilt and rested her forehead on the pommel, shoulders heaving from the effort of breathing.

Demelza leaned to one side, a hand resting on her hip as she, too, panted. "That's two kills for you," she told her, "an' six for me." Wincing, she walked over to the kitchen window and pulled down a mug, intending to take a drink. She frowned, finding it empty.

"What's going on?" Will demanded. He hurried to Baylee's side, kneeling down next to her. "Are you alright?" He gave her a look that was both worried and brotherly; he had nearly forgotten that Baylee knew how to fight. In their youth, he had protested to her learning, but their mother and aunt ignored his protests. In the end, it ended up being for the better that she had learned.

She tried to wave him off. "Fine. Sparring. Going with Uncle."

Spotting a second mug on the sill, Bofur hurried over and grabbed it. It, too, was empty, so he went to the well to fill it. Demelza joined him, leaning against the wall as the bucket was pulled up.

Will's eyes lit up. "Dad allowed it?" She nodded. "That's great! When are you two leaving?"

"Next month," Demelza answered. "But she only gets to go if she spars every day with either you or me." She still sounded a bit breathless, but, unlike her niece, she was used to the toils of fighting and could recover quicker. "She's quite rusty."

Bofur walked over to the siblings and helped Baylee to drink some of the water; her hands were shaking quite a bit from the rush of the fight. His hand lightly cupped her chin, catching any water that dribbled. "I honestly didn't expect you t' know how to use a sword," he admitted, his brows furrowed. "You're too gentle to know how to use one."

She let out a small laugh, taking the mug from him when she had drank her fill. "I know how t' use them, but I don't really like to," she said, moving to sit on her hindquarters. She leaned against her brother, tilting her head back against his arm. Bofur tossed aside whatever water fell into his palm before wiping his hand on his shirt. "Thank you, by the way. I needed that."

He nodded, his cheeks ever so slightly pink.

Nori offered her a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her face and neck. It wasn't his anyway; he had nicked it from some merchant in Erebor that morning. Ori would never know. "There aren't many out there who actually like to use their weapons," he told her, "and those that do are either evil or not quite right in the mind."

Demelza nodded in agreement. "It's a burden and a blessing, knowing how to fight. On one side, you can protect the ones you love. On the other, that can sometimes require taking another's life. It's not so bad when it's goblins or orcs or wargs-" Bofur shuddered at the mention of the monstrous wolves, "-but when it's other humans or possibly dwarves? Then it becomes a burden." There was a grave look in her eyes as she spoke, but it softened as she looked at Baylee and Will huddled together. "You're going to be sore in the morning. Drink plenty of water and see your uncle about some herbs t' help ease that pain a bit."

She nodded tiredly, watching as her aunt went back inside. Beside her, Bifur drew the sword out of the ground, his eyes inspecting every inch of it. He scrunched his nose up in distaste. "Zagar'ala gulur," he said, shaking his head. "Guzukh'ala hakhûn…shazurn goleznîc…" He looked at Baylee, his brow raised. "Mahmazarzu alùr?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"He doesn't like the craftsmanship," Ori quickly translated. "He thinks the sword is…well, it's rubbish."

"That's because it is," Will agreed. "It was left at the inn back in Lake Town by some half-crazed blacksmith. Never came back for it, so we just use it for sparring now."

Bifur stuck his tongue out. "Kuf aslâb khi? Khi oghelekh." He held out two fingers and tried to balance the sword on them; no matter what he tried, the weapon would not come to balance.

"It's one o' the reasons I'm so tired," Baylee chuckled, getting the gist of what he had said. "It's too heavy for its size an' I can't get a good swing in with it. But it's the only sword I can practice with. Papa and Will don't have any."

"What weapons do you use?" Nori asked, glancing around the inn yard. He was starting to smell the evening's meal cooking; it was making him rather hungry.

Pulling away from his sister and standing, Will brushed his knees off. "I've got a morning star," he told him, "and our dad's got a big ol' war hammer somewhere." He watched as Bofur helped Baylee to her feet. "Baylee's dainty though, so she gets to use a sword, no matter how poorly made it is."

"I'm good with axes, though," she pouted.

Will ruffled her hair, watching as she tiredly tried to bat his hands away. "Aye, you are, but you're better with a sword and shield. But you know what you're best at?"

Her brow rose. "What?"

"Smiling and serving customers."

"Oh, aye, I'll agree with that," Bofur chirped. He blinked, not having meant to say that out loud. Nori, Ori, and Bifur raise their brows as they looked at him. "Er, that is to say, you're one o' the best inn-maidens that we've had the pleasure o' being served by," he said quickly, trying to cover himself up. "I mean, you know when t' fill our drinks, just how much food we like on our plates…that sort o' thing. And you're always full o' good conversation, just like a good inn-maid should be…"

He finally managed to stop rambling when Bifur subtly, but painfully, stamped on his foot. He was quite aware of the looks he was receiving from his fellow dwarves. What terrified him, however, was the look Will was giving him –he felt like his very soul was being searched inch by inch.

Baylee, however, laughed, her cheeks still red –whether from the sparring or from the flood of compliments, even she didn't quite know. "Well, thank-you," she smiled, "though I'm quite sure there are better out there."

"Not many can balance a tray of beer mugs on their head, though," Nori grinned.

Will chuckled, setting his hands on her shoulder. "Let's get you inside and cleaned up. Smells like the night meal is almost ready." He started to steer her off, glancing over his shoulder at the group of dwarves.

Bifur crossed his arms as he gave his cousin an unimpressed look. "Kulhu tada?" he asked.

"What was what?" Bofur asked, brows furrowing. "There's no thats to be what-ed about."

His brow rose. "'Shândabme utada'," he repeated, somewhat imitating the semi-dreamy tone Bofur had spoken in. He grinned, seeing his cousin become fluster.

"She's a good inn-maid!" he argued, feeling quite embarrassed with himself. Why had he gone off rambling like that? He knew he had a tendency to blurt things out, but not like that…

Smirking at the others, Bifur shook his head and started to walk off. Nori snickered, following after him with Ori in tow.

"There's nothin' wrong with appreciating a good inn-maid!" Bofur pouted, following behind the others. 'Though, she does have herself a pretty smile…' he thought –and managed to keep inside his head.

"Baylee! Oi, Baylee!" It was barely a loud whisper, but it echoed through the dead of night, growing louder in some places and quieter in others.

She grunted in her sleep and rolled over only to wince in pain; her entire body was stiff and sore. Pulling her blanket closer to her shoulders, she mumbled to herself and snuggled into her pillow.

"Baylee, I know you can hear me!"

Quietly growling, she sat up, peering through the darkness for her brother. "What is it, William?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. Her arms protested against even the slightest bit of movement; she made a note to see her uncle as soon as he was awake.

"Shh! Don't let dad hear you!" The voice wasn't coming from within her room.

She frowned, looking at her window. "What the…?" Leaning over, she undid the lock and opened it wide enough to stick her head out. Her eyes widened as she found her brother standing on a tree limb that was just below his window. "Will! What are you doing out at this time o' night!?" She tilted her head slightly, wondering if any strong branches reached her window.

He grinned innocently. "I'll tell you when you unlock my window. Is that a deal?"

"Deal," she sighed. Shaking her head, Baylee pulled herself back into her room and closed the window. Being as quiet as she possibly could, she crept out of her room and down the hallway to her brother's door. Once inside his room, she unlocked his window and flung it open, her brow raised in a rather scolding look.

"Mind tellin' me now?" she asked, leaning out of the window and offering her hand to her brother. She winced again.

"Er…I wanted t' go for a walk." Taking her hand, he hauled himself back into his room; he would have been able to do it without her help, but was thankful for the extra boost.

She crossed her arms once he was firmly standing on the floor. "A walk?"

"Aye, a walk. 'Tis a lovely evening for one." Will sat down on his bed, starting to unlace his boots. Baylee closed his window and locked it up once more. "Especially if it's a walk with a pretty, red-haired lass…"

Her eyes widened and she spun around. "You were out with Adela Stover, weren't you?" she gasped. His quickly-reddening cheeks and the fact he looked away gave her answer enough. "Oh, if papa finds out, he'll have your hide for curtains…"

"Which is why he won't find out –at least, not for the time being." He set his boots under the bed, sighing in a rather dream-like manner. "She's so pretty, though…and she made me the most delicious custard. It had bacon and ham and spinach in it." There was a silly grin on his lips as he closed his eyes and remembered how his evening had been spent.

Baylee raised her brow. "She's also the daughter o' papa's biggest rival an' two years older than you."

He flopped backwards, arms outspread on the bed. "I know," he groaned. "But, Baylee…" His grin returned. "She's going to be my wife someday, I just know it. She's a great cook, she's sweet, she's got gorgeous long, red hair and bright, blue eyes…she's everything my perfect girl could ever be."

She sat next to him, poking his side and making him flinch; he was ticklish there. "And she sees past your scars," she added. "Also helps that she likes it when you do the goofy smile you're doin' right now."

Will stared at her, his hands still protecting his side from being poked again. "How do you know?"

"Hm. I guess an old thrust came by an' told me," she mused. Glancing at her brother, she saw that he was staring rather incredulously at her and she rolled her eyes. "I've talked to her, ya lout."

"You have? What else did she say about me?"

Managing to get her hand past his defenses, she once more poked him in the side. "That you should get yourself t' bed because you've a long day o' work ahead o' you." Standing up, she shook her head. "And next time you sneak out at night, Will, make sure ya leave through the same way you'll be comin' back in through, alright?" Tilting her head as she glanced back at him, she could barely make out a red mark on his neck.

He watched her, curious. "So…you won't tell dad?"

She shrugged. "Why would I? Adela makes you happy an' I don't want papa t' keep that from you. Especially since she seems like the only lass in this city who knows that you're more 'n just warg scars. Though, I suggest you wear a collared shirt tomorrow; looks like she got a bit too friendly with you."

A thankful smile came to his lips as he looked up at her. "Sometimes, Baylee, I wonder if I couldn't get a better sister 'n you," he told her. "If ever you find a man you want to court that dad doesn't approve of, let me know. I'll help you sneak out at night."

She laughed. "Oh, aye, I'm sure that'll happen soon," she told him, her tone full of sarcasm.

He shrugged. "Same goes if you find a dwarf," he offered.

Her brow rose at his comment. "A dwarf?" she repeated with a small laugh. "Why do you say that?"

Again, he shrugged, turning himself so that he was properly lying in bed. "You never know. I mean, you're getting quite close to those dwarf lads." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You may find yourself married t' one someday."

"I think they prefer their women shorter and hairier than me," she giggled.

He gave her a look. "Baylee…you're not even a span taller than Bofur and Nori. I think you've got 'short' covered. Hairy? No, but let your hair grow long enough…" He grinned, shielding himself as Baylee stole his pillow and thwacked him with it.

Suddenly, the door opened and candlelight flooded into the room. The siblings looked up, their eyes wide in shock only to find the outline of their father standing in the doorway.

"What is all this ruckus?" he demanded. He sounded tired; they knew they had woke him up. "Baylee, why are you in your brother's room?"

"I had a nightmare," she said, almost automatically, "so I came in here an' Will helped calm me down."

They could just barely see the frown that came to Warren's face. "You had a nightmare?" She nodded, looking down at the floor with a convincing sniffle. "Oh, Yavanna's earth, Baylee…" he murmured, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry."

Will sat up, taking the pillow from her. "I had just made her forget about it, too," he said, his tone slightly scolding towards his father. He pulled Baylee down and hugged her, his chin resting atop her head.

Warren winced slightly; he hoped she wouldn't have another one that night. "Well…make her forget again –but do it quietly, alright? If you woke me up, I'm hopin' you didn't wake whomever's upstairs as well."

"Sorry, dad."

"Sorry, papa."

"Goodnight, you two." Shaking his head, he closed the door and let them be.

Will cocked his hear, listening for when their dad's footsteps retreated down the hall. "That was close," he murmured.

Baylee yawned. "Aye, it was. Now let me get back to bed so I can finish sleepin', eh? The sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get some medicine from uncle for these aches."

"Just think –you get to hurt all over again later today!" he beamed.

She cursed at the mere thought of it.