A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Many things happened in Real Life, including me getting a new laptop! However, in apology, this chapter is nearly 20 pages long (single spaced, size 11 font mind you). Which reminds me...Since things are starting to draw near to all these exciting events, the chapters may very well start being around 20-25 pages long at times. Just a warning for you!

Chapter Nine

Ori sighed as he lifted his spoon and turned it, letting the soup spill back into the bowl. His nose scrunched up as he saw a couple of wilted, green leaves floating around in the soup. He didn't like green food, even if it was in soup.

It was rabbit food. Not dwarf food.

A plate of his favorite sweet cakes appeared beside him, as well as a mug of ale. "Is something troubling you, Ori?" Dori set down his own bowl before sitting down across from his youngest brother.

"It's got green leaves in it."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Pity's sake, Ori! It's just spinach. You like spinach."

"It's green. I don't like green," he replied, his tone firm.

"Well, then, leave them to float and I'll take them when you're done."

Instead, Ori began the tedious task of scooping out each leaf of spinach and dumping it into Dori's bowl. When he finished, he sighed quietly and started to eat. Dori watched him, a brow raised in concern. He had been home for four days; for the first three, he had been as happy as could be, telling Dori all about his days in Dale and all the new people he got to meet and the things he learned. But today…He just seemed depressed.

"What's wrong with you, Ori?" Dori asked after some minutes. He lifted his bowl, drinking some of the broth. "You were so…cheerful yesterday and now you're a glum plum. Did someone insult your mustache again? Because if they did, I'll give them a piece of my mind; it's coming in quite nicely, by the way."

Ori plopped his arm on the table, resting his chin in his palm. "No one insulted me, Dori." He took in a spoonful of broth and chicken. "I've just been thinking is all."

"About what?"

"About how you an' Nori got to go on all these adventures before I was born. And then here I come along and I only got one adventure."

He raised his brow. "What? You want to go on more adventures?" he asked. Ori nodded. "But…to where? You've not been out in the Wild for nearly five years and Mahal knows you're not ready to go anywhere on your own!" He scooped some chicken and spinach from his soup and ate it. Unlike Ori, he quite enjoyed green food.

"Lake Town."

"Lake Town?" he repeated with a laugh. "Well, if Nori wanted to go with you, I suppose that's fine…"

Ori shook his head. "No. Not with Ori. And not with you. I want to be able to go on my own."

Dori dropped his spoon as he stared at him. "Ori, that's preposterous! When have you ever been left alone in the outside? Not once! Even in Dale you have Bifur and Bofur to watch over you."

"And Nori now as well," he said, rolling his eyes slightly. He sat up and pushed his bowl away. "Dori, I'm not a dwarrowling anymore! Yes, I'm a good deal younger than you and Nori –but blame mum for that, not me." He sighed, turning his gaze away from his brother and staring instead into the hearth, watching the flames lick at the stone walls.

"I'm tired of bein' the soft one. Even in Thorin's Company, I was the soft one. Everyone babying me and making sure I wouldn't get hurt…I was only three years younger than Kili and everyone treated him an' Fili like noble warriors! Even the rotten goblins made fun of me for being the youngest." He shook his head. "I just want to go out and know what it's like to see the world, even if it's not that far from the doorstep, Dori."

Dori sighed, resting his elbow on the table as he rubbed his forehead. "Ori, it's not safe out there."

"Oh, don't give me that bunch of bollocks!" he suddenly cried. "There's been peace in the north for five years thanks to us, Dori! Because of us, the humans, the elves, the eagles, and Beorn –the north is safe!"

Dori leaned back, taken aback by his brother's sudden outburst. He always expected such an attitude from Nori, but never gentle Ori. His mouth moved, but he couldn't bring himself to form any words that would have been coherent.

Sighing, Ori sat down and closed his eyes. Shaking his head, he went back to eating his soup. "There's a small group of humans leaving in a week an' a half for Lake Town," he quietly told his brother. "I'm going t' go with them. Nori won't be with them, but Baylee, the innkeeper's daughter, will."

"There have reports of raiders," Dori murmured.

"We'll have soldiers with us."

He nodded, lifting his bowl and draining it of the broth before setting it back down. "I'm sorry."

Ori glanced up. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I know I'm always babying you, Ori, but…you weren't even five when mum passed on, leavin' me to raise you and Nori." Using his spoon, he poked around at his chicken and spinach. "And with your father not being much of a father…always off gambling or getting drunk. Undwarrow-like behavior…" He shook his head and looked at Ori with an apologetic smile. "I guess I just got too caught up raising you to see how much you've grown up. With Nori it's easier, since he's so much older than you and can handle himself so well."

Ori's cheeks turned bright red as he looked down into his bowl; he felt guilty for his outburst. He knew full well that Dori only had the best of intentions for him and Nori, but sometimes it was just too much to handle. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he mumbled, ashamed. "I know you're just looking out for us…and you've done a much better job than our father ever could." He glanced up at him, smiling sheepishly. "I suppose you got that from your father."

He nodded slowly, a quiet laugh leaving his mouth. "Aye, I suppose so. He always had been a bit of a Worry William, hadn't he?"

"But he taught you well, or else I may have ended up like Nori."

"Nori's a good dwarrow…his heart is in the right place. He just…gets sidetracked sometimes." He ate some of the chicken. "I'm glad he hasn't been in jail lately. It's a nice change, seeing him try to help with the family business. He's quite a good appraiser, I'll give him that."

Ori quietly laughed. "I wonder if it has anythin' to do with his thieving?"

"Oh, hush you," Dori chortled. "And finish your soup before it goes cold!"

Meanwhile, in a mansion not terribly far away, Bifur had his arms full of dwarrowlings as he sat on the floor, a book in his hands. He was reading the dwarrowlings a nap-time story, even though most of them were old enough to not need naps. The little ones were fidgeting slightly, some of them not wanting to sleep, but none of them wanted to miss out on the story –especially if Cousin Bifur was the one reading.

"And so, the Littlest Dwarrow crept out of his cave. But oh! All his friends were gone, though their belongings remained," he read. "'Now, why would they have gone without their things'? thought the Littlest Dwarrow. He knew that, like all good dwarrows, his friends took good care of their belongings and wouldn't leave them tossed on a floor without a care. The Littlest Dwarrow poked his head out into the big, tall hall and, peering through the darkness, looked for any sign of his friends.

"While he could not see his friends, he did see something peculiar: Off in the distance, there was a light. Now, this far down in the mountain, there was no light from the Sun –and, even if her rays could penetrate the thick stone, she was asleep, for it was nighttime above ground. The Littlest Dwarrow knew that this light had one of two sources: Fire or-"

"Light crystals!" Buruz murmured sleepily. He yawned and nuzzled into Bifur's beard.

"That's right," Bifur chuckled, turning the page.

"Light crystals are pretty," Grid mumbled. She was already mostly asleep. On her lap, Sanna was curled up, clutching her favorite ragdoll. Boroz, too, was sleeping soundly as he sat on Bifur's lap.

A few pages later, Bofur poked his head into the room, a gentle smile coming to his features as he saw Bifur closing the book, all four children fast asleep. Ah, but now his poor cousin had a dilemma ahead of him: How to put the four children in their beds without accidentally dropping one? For that, he came to the rescue.

"You sure tuckered them out," Bofur whispered, lifting Boroz and Buruz from Bifur's lap.

"They're going to hate us for being gone when they wake up." He stood, cradling Sanna and Grid in his arms.

A sad smile came to Bofur's lips. "Aye, but only for a little while. When we come back for another visit, they'll be as happy as bees around honey." Setting the two boys in their bed, he tugged the blanket up to their shoulders. "We're not far away, after all." He leaned down and kissed their foreheads before straightening up. "Here, I'll take Sanna." As he took the littlest one from Bifur, she stirred.

"Uncle Bof?" she mumbled, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

"Aye, my lil' gemstone?" He held her against his shoulder, carrying her out of the room.

She buried her face into his hair and sighed heavily with sleep. "Ruby need new dwess…"

It was hard for him to restrain his laughter; behind him, Bifur was quietly chortling. "I'll see what I can do, alright?" he murmured. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his cousin shaking his head slightly.

Both entered the girls' room and set them down, being careful to not wake them again. Giving them each a kiss on the forehead, they left them be, Bifur still laughing softly.

"You'd think you're her doll's personal tailor or something," he chuckled, patting Bofur on the back.

"Well, I did make the doll for her. It would make sense," he grinned. "Glad t' know I'm still appreciated around here."

The two of them walked down the hall and down a flight of stairs, showing up in the kitchen. Gerdi was slicing some carrots, little Edda (as she and Bombur had decided three hours after her birth) swaddled up against her chest in a wrap. Bombur was near the fire, stirring some meat in the bottom of a large cooking pot. Both looked up as the two males entered the room.

"Well, how did it go?" Gerdi asked, her voice quiet. Edda was fast asleep.

"They're all tucked in and napping quietly," Bifur smiled.

Bombur's brows rose in surprise. "All of them? Even Boroz and Sanna?"

"They were the first t' fall asleep," Bofur told him. "Don't know how he managed it, all four o' them snuggled up on his lap…But it'll soon be five, I'm sure." He moved to get himself a small cup of ale.

Gerdi smiled. "When this little one is old enough, I'm sure they'll manage to make room."

Bifur moved to steal a slice of carrot, grinning as he narrowly avoided getting his hand smacked by the flat of the blade. "She'll fit perfectly on Buruz's lap, I'm sure." He glanced over his shoulder as Bombur patted him on the back.

"Are you sure you want to stay in Dale?" he teased, though there was a small look of sadness on his features. "I mean, we could always use a great story reader around here."

He nodded. "I have to spoil more than just my family, you know." A concerned look came to his face as Edda quietly whimpered, squirming against her mother's breast as she woke up.

Gerdi rubbed her back, gently shushing her in an attempt to get her to go back to sleep. The attempt failed, however, and Edda started to get a bit louder. Sliding her out of the linen wrap, she started to rock the infant only to pass her off to Bombur.

"Is she hungry?" Bifur asked.

"She only ate 'bout ten minutes ago," Bofur answered. "I was doin' the cuttin' for Gerdi while she was off feeding Edda," he explained when Bifur cocked his brow. He plucked up a cloth and tossed it to his brother as, when he patted Edda's back, she left a burp all over his shoulder.

Bifur glanced away; he could handle the sight of torn bodies, severed limbs, and entrails spilled across the ground, but the slightest peek at someone or something's puke made him ill. "Ah, so that's what it was," he chuckled. "Well, she should be better now!"

Seeing that Bombur was having some difficulty getting the puke off of his shoulder, Bofur walked over and took the cloth from him. As he started to wipe the mess up, he could see that Edda was all smiles while she watched him. Her eyes tried to focus on him, but he moved too fast for her three-day-old vision. Once he got Bombur's shoulder puke-free, he tossed the cloth into a bucket and took the infant from her father, cradling her in his arms as he started to sing:

"The world was young, the mountains green

No stain yet on the Moon was seen,

No words were laid on stream or stone,

When Durin woke and walked alone.

He named the nameless hills and dells;

He drank from yet untasted wells;

He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,

And saw a crown of stars appear,

As gems upon a silver thread,

Above the shadow of his head."

Bombur and Gerdi slowed their stew prep, wanting to listen as Bofur sang. His voice had always been fair; a trait he had gotten from their mother. Bombur had many fond (albeit short) memories of being sung to sleep by his older brother when he was naught but a dwarrowling. As he glanced at his daughter, he smiled; Bofur had lured little one back into slumber's grasp with just barely the one verse.

Bofur very carefully handed Edda back to her mother, who once more swaddled her. "I think she likes that one," he joked quietly.

"I think she just likes your voice," Gerdi smiled. "You two are going t' be sorely missed, I hope you know."

Bifur smiled. "Aye, we know. We'll miss you lot, too, but it's not as if we won't be very far away." He glanced at his cousin. "Just an hour or two, weather dependin'."

"And we'll be back for a couple o' days every month," Bofur added, leaning back slightly to stretch his back. He felt something shift before popping and he let out a little 'ah!' of relief. "So you'll see us plenty often."

"But not often enough if this little one is a restless sleeper," Bombur chuckled, his stomach jiggling slightly.

"Gerdi's got herself a fair enough voice," Bifur reassured him. "I'm sure Edda will learn to appreciate all sorts o' music, whether it's good or-" he glanced at Bombur, who did not have a good singing voice at all, "bad. What'll matter is that someone's singin' to her." He adjusted his belt slightly and narrowed his eyes, looking out through one of the mansion's few windows that gazed outside. "Ah…It's high time that we get going, Bofur."

He nodded in understanding. "Aye, it is." He looked at Bombur and Gerdi, smiling warmly. "You'll see us soon enough, I promise."

"Move yeh feet more. Aye, like that. Use the shield t' redirect his blows!"

Dwalin stood against the wall of the inn, his arms crossed as he stood beside Will. Both were watching as Nori and Baylee sparred. Being the battle-hardened warrior, however, Dwalin had been left in charge of instructing the woman while her aunt tended to customers. As he saw Baylee raise her shield arm, smacking one of Nori's arms away from her when he tried to 'stab' her, his brow rose as she 'sliced' across Nori's stomach.

"Kill for Baylee," he called out.

Will walked over to his sister, who leaned over and rested her hands on her knees. She quietly panted and looked up at him, sweat pouring down her grinning face. Holding out a mug of water, he smiled reassuringly. "Good job. That's two kills for you an' three for Nori. Just one more match." He frowned slightly, seeing a bruise beginning to form under her left eye from an accidental headshot Nori had landed during their first match. Such things happen, though. She hadn't minded much; in fact, she ended up laughing.

"Or two, if'n I win," she told him, taking the mug. "Don't think I will though." Standing upright, she drank some of the water before splashing the rest over the top of her head. She shivered as the cool water ran down the back of her head and down her neck, but it was better than overheating.

His brow rose. "Have some faith in yourself," he scolded, "or else you'll never win."

"I do have faith in myself," she told him, shoving her wet bangs out of her face, "it's just that this sword is drivin' me insane. Look how bad it's gotten the last three days!" Grabbing the weapon from where she had dropped it, she offered it, hilt-first, to her brother. "I don't think I should use it anymore."

He frowned; the blade was dented in many places and was even bent near the tip. Shaking his head, he sighed. "Looks like you're stuck with axes then," he told her. "This is beyond useless now…"

Dwalin walked over. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

"Baylee's going to stick to axes from now on," Will explained. "The sword's too crap to go another round."

Taking just one look at it, Dwalin gave the weapon a look of disgust. "Aye…it doesn't look like it'd even be good for scrap metal, laddie." He turned to Baylee, not needing to look up –she was only two inches taller than him. "Lass, have yeh ever given thought t' usin' a spear or staff?"

She shook her head. "No; we've never had spears around t' practice with. They were all owned by the city guard."

"Lad, do yeh think yeh'd be able t' find one?" he asked Will. "Or at least a nice, sturdy stick?"

"I don't know…let me check the stables for somethin'," he told the dwarf before heading into the building. Stepping into the dimmer light, he squinted, his eyes being slow to adjust to the change, and looked around for Peter or Gawen. At the back of the room, he could see a man about as tall as himself, but with muscles like his father and hair as red as fire. "Oi! Peter!" he called.

The man turned, showing a youthful face. "Whatcha need, Will?" he asked, leaning on a pitchfork.

"I need a staff or somethin' close to a spear. Have you anything o' the sort in here?"

His brow rose. "Let me guess…Baylee's sparring?" Will nodded. "Not sure if I've got anything like that but…" Walking over to a door, he disappeared into a small room for a few minutes. When he returned, he was carrying a broken shovel. "Your pa was supposed t' fix this one," he told him, "but it'll go to better use this way." Resting it on the floor at an angle, he slammed his foot down where the metal was hammered into the shaft. The wood cracked slightly, but did not splinter.

"Let me try," Will murmured. He stomped down, and still the wood did not fracture. Both men cocked their brows and looked at each other, surprised.

Peter laughed. "I think this'll be a good staff for her if it's not wantin' t' break under our weights." It took two more good stomps on the wood before it finally broke. "There we go!" picking up the wooden pole, he handed it to Will.

"Thanks, Peter," Will grinned. "Good job with washin' Chestnut the other day, by the way. Haven't seen his coat so shiny in months."

He shrugged humbly. "It's my job."

Shaking his head, Will chuckled. "Still. Keep up the good work." With the pole in hand, he left the stables. Baylee looked up in time to catch the pole as he tossed it to her, though she winced, having dropped her shield on her foot in the process.

"OW!" She hopping around on one foot, her hand clinging onto the other. "Could'a given me some warnin', ya big arsemunch!"

"Sorry, 'Lee!" Will winced, hearing the two dwarves snicker –not at her pain, but at her swearing. "I thought ya still had it—OW!" He had not been able to avoid getting thwacked upside the head as she swung the pole at him.

"Excellent aim!" Nori laughed. He glanced at Dwalin. "She may be a natural with that thing."

He cocked his brow, looking down at his friend. "We'll see. I'll go against her this round."

Nori frowned. "What? But you'll kick her arse!"

He plucked the two knives from Nori's hands, making sure the padding was still securely wrapped around the strange blades. "I know. But it's the only way she'll learn." He patted Nori on the back and walked over to Baylee and Will, the former attempting to thwack her brother again. "Baylee, time for yeh next match."

She halted in mid-swing, looking at him in surprise. "Alright," she said with a small nod. "Why isn't Nori over here?" From the corner of her eye, she saw Will hurrying to go stand beside Nori.

"I'm givin' him a break," he chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't go too easy on yeh." He laughed, though she only let out a nervous chuckle. "Now remember what I told yeh –staffs 'n spears can be used for offense an' defense at the same time. If yeh try t' hit me, though, use the blunt end, aye? I don't need any splinters stickin' out o' my skull."

"Fine by me," she agreed. The two of them moved to the center of the inn yard, taking their positions.

"Start," Will called out, his brows furrowed. He watched as Dwalin raised one of the knives, keep the other more waist-level while Baylee spaced her grip out on the pole so she held it less like a sword. For a moment, the two opponents circled round each other before the dwarf lunged at Baylee. She just barely had time to block one of his arms; the other made to slash at her stomach, but she hopped back (and sucked in her stomach, but no one could see that).

As he started to pull away, she shoved his arm off the stick and tried to thwack his shoulder, but the second knife blocked her blow. She shifted herself and brought the other end of the staff around, managing to smack his knee. Dwalin let out a grunt and swung his arm in for a stab, but she stepped back and knocked his hand away. He tried to slash at her with the other hand, though he aimed at her leg. She jumped out of the way of the blow and managed to smack Dwalin on the back.

Nori chuckled, glancing up at Will. "I think she's a natural with that," he grinned.

"I don't doubt it. Have you seen her with a broom? She's deadly with those things, especially if ya accidentally walk through her dirt pile…" Will murmured. He cringed as Dwalin managed to 'stab' Baylee's leg. "That's goin' to bruise for sure."

"If it's Dwalin, it's a miracle if it doesn't bruise."

They watched as Dwalin aimed a blow at her head; Nori was positive it was going to hit. At the last second, Baylee dove down and rolled onto her knees behind him. With quite a bit of force behind the blow, she slammed the stick into the back of Dwalin's knees, sweeping his legs out from under him. He cursed as he fell onto his back and felt the dull end of the pole lightly pressed against his neck.

"Aha! Baylee's killed Dwalin!"

Everyone looked up, more than a little surprised to see Bifur, Bofur, and Ori stopped at the entrance of the inn yard. Their pony did not look entirely amused; their cart was full to the brim with crates of varying sizes.

"The lads are back!" Baylee chirped, removing her 'weapon' from Dwalin's neck. She helped him to his feet before resting the pole against a wall. Nori snickered, watching as she went over and gave each of the dwarves a big hug. Will raised his brow, giving him a curious look.

"What?" he asked.

Nori shook his head. "She doesn't even care that she's won," he skillfully lied. In truth, he had noticed that Bofur's cheeks had gained a bit of color.

"It's Baylee," Will laughed. "She prefers good food, song, and cheer over fightin'."

"And balancing trays atop her head. You can't forget that, lad."

"That comes with good food," he grinned. He moved over to the cart, patting the disgruntled pony on the nose. "How was the trip?"

"Ughelekh," Bifur replied, smiling. "Bofur sakh Bomburhi nuthûth mahfurukh. Ubarufur umala. Ikhul…ni khi ashuru."

Dwalin grinned. "Ah, so Gerdi did give birth?" He patted Bifur and Bofur on the back. "An' another lil' girl for her an' Bombur. If yeh two ever have dwarrowlings, yeh may end up with all daughters if Bombur's family is any indication! Not that that's a bad thing –we could use more females."

Baylee cocked her head curiously. "Are there not many female dwarves?"

"For every hundred males," Ori told her, "less than thirty would be female. So, four three out o' Bombur's eight children to be female is a bit o' a celebrated oddity."

"Celebrated oddity…" Nori quietly repeated. "I like that one, Ori." He ruffled his brother's hair, causing him to blush slightly. "We were just finishing up Baylee's sparring for the day, though she's got one match left now that she beat Dwalin."

Baylee groaned, leaning against the cart. "I forgot about that…"

Dwalin heartily patted her on the back, the force making her stumble forward slightly. "Ah, but yeh've tied us now, lass! Yeh need t' break the tie."

"Ooh, she's got three wins does she?" Bofur grinned. "She was hardly gettin' two wins when we left!"

"Thurukhdhi ghelekhur!" Bifur beamed.

Dwalin nodded in agreement. "Nori 'n I have taken over her sparring so that they're not terribly understaffed inside," he explained. "An' she seems more keen t' attack with a staff rather than a sword or axe I found out." He rubbed his leg slightly.

"I didn't mean t' hit ya that hard," Baylee apologized, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No, it's a good thing, lass!" he grinned. "Just ask Ori here." He set his hand on Ori's shoulder, which caused his cheeks to go darker. "When I was trainin' him, he was afraid t' hit me too hard, but he quickly learned that sometimes, leavin' a bruise is better 'n gettin' a wallop upside the head."

Ori shyly smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Dori was never too pleased with you after that. He almost wouldn't let you keep training me."

"Well, let us pass by with our things first," Bofur told them, "so we came get ol' Daisy here all nice and nestled away in a stall. She's right mad at us for makin' her come all this way."

It took about ten minutes for the dwarves to get their cart and pony huddled away inside the stables. By the time Bofur and Bifur came back out, Baylee and Dwalin were in the middle of their final match. The human was barely getting any chances to attack thanks to Dwalin's onslaught of slashes and stabs. As she backed up, she tripped and fell onto her back, the staff flying out of her hand. Ori and Bofur cringed as they watched.

She rolled out of the way as Dwalin tried to 'stab' her, but it was in the opposite direction of her weapon. Mentally cursing, she hopped backwards and wriggled herself out of the way as Dwalin continued to attack her. She glanced around in an attempt to find her weapon, but it was too far away by this point.

Suddenly, Dwalin paused, for a small rock had hit him upside the head. He stopped, looking down at the pebble quizzically before looking up. He gave Ori a look that was half scolding, half impressed, for the younger dwarf wore a sheepish grin and seemed to be hiding something behind his back. His brow rose, knowing full well that Ori had used his slingshot.

Baylee used the momentary distraction to dart around Dwalin and retrieve her weapon. As he spun around to face her, she smacked his hand, sending one of the knives flying out of his grasp. Bifur cursed and ducked out of the way as it came straight at him.

"Sorry Bifur!" Baylee squeaked.

"Ghelekhuh!" he called.

Bofur, Ori, Nori, and Will all cringed as Baylee aimed a blow at Dwalin's head; she never hit her target because the dwarf ducked under the blow and jabbed his elbow into her stomach. She fell onto one knee and tried to bring the pole closer to her so she could block any incoming blows, but it was too late. Dwalin had his knife hovering just above her neck.

"Kill for me, lass," he said with a raised brow and slight smirk. Stepping back, he offered her a hand up. "Three kills for yeh, though. Not bad, especially for havin' a new weapon thrown at yeh like this."

She smiled tiredly. "I kind o' like it," she admitted. "It's lighter 'n the rest and I block better with it."

"And you're more aggressive with it, too," Will told her.

Bofur cocked his head, frowning as he, Bifur, and Ori walked over. He could see that Baylee's trousers were torn on the left knee and he saw that blood was already soaking into the brown fabric. "You're hurt," he said, pointing at her injury. He gave Dwalin a scolding look, which earned a quiet chuckle from Nori.

Baylee glanced down. "So I am!" she murmured, more surprised than anything."Oh well. I'll get it cleaned up an' have it bandaged before I get t' serving." She smiled reassuringly at the dwarf. "Thanks for pointin' it out; I don't think I would have noticed it."

Will rolled his eyes as he watched his sister curiously poke her wound only to wince. "Oh, for Estë's sake, Baylee! Why do you always poke your cuts or bruises?"

She glanced up at him. "T' see how bad they'll end up hurtin'," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "If I can't touch it, then I know it's bad an' it'll be a bother. If I can touch it, then I know it won't be a bother."

"Yulzdhi náb," Bifur said with a small nod. "Durjn balilruk…"

"Aye, it is an odd point, but she does have one," Bofur agreed.

She smiled at the dwarves. "Why don't you lads head on in? I'll see ya soon enough; just need t' clean up and throw my apron on. Will, will ya get 'em settled with some drinks an' bread?"

He nodded. "Sure thing."

As Will and the dwarves went in to the kitchen, Baylee sat down on the edge of the well and tugged her trouser leg from her boot. Being careful to not get any water back into the well, she poured a bit of water over her knee and quietly hissed as the wound stung.

'Not the worst I've gotten,' she thought, watching as the blood started to flow anew. 'Doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting my ear ripped…'

Hearing the sound of hooves, she looked up in time to see Rán and a few of his companions riding into the inn yard; they had spent the day exploring the city and its surrounding lands. Turning back to her injury, she squinted slightly as she saw a pebble stuck into her flesh. As snippets of their conversation drifted towards her, she did her best to not eavesdrop –not that she could understand them anyway; the rangers spoke in a strange tongue. Will had told her that he didn't recognize it, so she supposed that it was a language invented for when they were out in the wilds. She knew that the rangers of Lake Town had done the same thing, though their language mostly mimicked the sounds and calls of animals.

When her knee was cleaned, she went into the kitchen, where she found Galiene and Wenna bustling about, getting the evening's dishes ready.

"Ah, Baylee! There you are-" Galiene started, but the younger woman held up her hands.

Baylee smiled apologetically. "Give me just a tick, Galiene; I've got t' bandage my knee," she explained before hurrying out of the kitchen. 'Best change my clothes while I'm back here, too,' she thought, entering the private quarters. Going down the hall to her room, she threw open her door before letting it close and went over to her trunk. Opening, she found that she only had skirts left.

"Well this will be different," she murmured, pulling a blue skirt and some black hose out. She also brought out a small roll of clean bandages. Kicking off her boots and dropping her trousers, she wrapped her knee up nice and tight –but not too tight. 'Uncle should approve of this at the least,' she thought, tugging on the hose. 'I'll have to do some laundry tonight, though…I need my trousers cleaned for the trip.'

Shaking her head, she made quick work of pulling her boots back on and hurried out of her room. Over the last couple of weeks, she had wondered how she managed to still have energy after her sparring practice. As she rounded the corner heading into the common room, she let out a surprised curse and tumbled backwards as she ran into someone.

"Sorry!" she and the other person cried out in unison. Judging by where their voice was, they too had fallen.

Pushing her bangs from her face, her cheeks turned a little red as she saw that she had smacked into Rán. "I'm sorry, I really should have-" she began, but he cut her off.

"No, it's entirely my fault, Miss Baylee." He hopped to his feet, auburn curls dancing around his shoulders, and offered her his hand up. "I should have paid attention to my surroundings instead of hurrying in such a fashion." He offered her an apologetic smile as he easily pulled her onto her feet, though it faltered when he saw the bruise lining her cheek bone. "I certainly hope I did not cause that bruise…"

She laughed. "No, Nori did that." A horrified look came to his features. "Sparrin' practice," she quickly told him, her cheeks flushing. "I ducked when I should have jumped back an' got a fist t' the face. It'll be fine."

His brow rose and he seemed somewhat amused. "Not many people can say such things after receiving a hit like that from a dwarf," he told her. As he spoke, she noticed something about his lips that she hadn't noticed before: They were scarred. She couldn't tell what sort of injury had been dealt to him, but it almost looked as if his lips had been sewn shut at one point in his life…

"I've had worse," she said with a shrug. Forcing herself to glance away, she saw that he had dropped a spare set of clothing on the floor when they ran into one another. "Oh, Yavanna's sake, where are my manners?" She hurriedly knelt down and gathered up his clothing before handing it over to him. "Sorry again."

He shrugged and quietly laughed. "It's no trouble, Miss Baylee," he said. "Though, may I request some warm bread and cheese for my companions whilst I bathe? And perhaps a couple pots of tea?"

She nodded. "Aye, I'll have them at the table quite soon, milord," she told him. With a shy smile, she stepped around him and headed into the kitchen.

Galiene glanced up from a soup pot. "What was that thud we heard?" she asked, sprinkling in some chopped parsley.

"Ah, one o' the rangers an' I ran into each other and took a tumble," she explained, grabbing her apron and tying it around her waist. "We're fine, though."

Wenna perked and glanced up from cutting some carrots. "Ooh, which ranger?" she asked, a grin on her face. "Was it one o' the handsome ones?"

Baylee's brow cocked as she moved to set two loaves of bread by the hearth to warm up. "You think they're all handsome, Wenna. But t' answer you, it was Rán."

"You ran into him?" she gasped. "Lucky!"

Galiene rolled her eyes. "Girl, you've an odd opinion on what's lucky an' what's not." She turned to Baylee. "You, on the other hand, missy…I need to talk t' you about tomorrow night."

She frowned. "What's tomorrow night?"

"King Bard is going to hold a meeting here-" They both ignored the wistful sigh of Wenna, "-about that journey down to Lake Town you're goin' t' be a part of. You absolutely cannot spar tomorrow night."

"But papa says if I don't-"

"I've talked to your papa about this," she told her. "Tomorrow afternoon, I'm goin' to need all of you lasses helping me with the cooking –An' yes, Wenna, this means you'll be stuck in here and not out in the common room!" She dipped a spoon into the soup and tasted it. "The lads will be workin' the lunch shift in there so we can get only the best foods cooked." She added a pinch of salt into the broth and stirred it again. "I won't be having this inn serving our king average food. He needs to be given the best."

Wenna frowned, putting her slices of carrot into a bowl with some chopped celery. "We'll be exhausted after all the cookin' you'll have us be doin'."

"That's why you get the mornin' off," she told her, "well, partially. You get here bright and early so I can have you and Baylee do a touch of shopping for me. No complaints! You'll be getting extra pay for this."

Baylee poured some hot water into two large teapots and tossed in some tea leaves. Poking her head out of the door, she counted six rangers at the table, so she put seven cups around the pots before adding the cheeses onto a second tray. She sliced the bread into nice, thick pieces before setting it on a plate and adding that alongside the cheese. Carrying them out of the kitchen, she was greeted by 'thank you's and 'ahh! Food!' from the rangers.

"It'll be just a tad bit longer before any real food's ready," she told them, setting a teacup in front of each of them. "But I can say that the soup is lookin' might tasty an' that there will be some roast beef."

"What sort of soup, miss?" the second in command of the group, a female, asked.

"Fish soup," she replied, "with tomatoes an' garlic an' a bunch o' other yummy things in it." She put a plate of bread and cheese at each end of the table.

The woman nodded, a grin coming across her lips. Baylee's brow rose slightly; her lips had the same, strange scarring as Rán's. "That sounds like it'll be delicious. I may have that later…"

Baylee chuckled. "Well, it's quite popular," she told her, "so I'll try t' get ya a bowl before it's gone." Smiling at the group, she gathered up her two trays and went to go check on the dwarves. "An' how're you lads doin'?"

"Quite good," Bofur answered for the group. He was holding a pipe in his hand and smoke furled from his mouth and nostrils as he spoke. "Jus' borin' the lads with tales o' my newest lil' niece an' how she's a penchant for burpin' all over her daddy's shoulder."

She laughed. "Ah, she's not the only one who likes t' do that. Until he was 'bout ten years old, it seemed Will would only ever throw up on papa's lap. He'd be sicker 'n a dog but not throw up until papa came near him. No one else…Not even me. Just papa."

"So, then, I suppose you were the one throwing up on your mother?" Nori asked, his brow rising as he grinned.

She shook her head. "Nope. I got our old dog once, though." Leaning over Dwalin, she peeked into his mug, finding it almost empty. "Looks like you need a refill there, Dwalin."

Raising it to his lips, he drained the last of it and held out to her, grinning. "Aye, tha' I do, lass," he grinned. "About how long 'til the food's done? Do yeh know?"

"About an hour," she told him, gathering up the other mugs. "Do you lads want anythin' to whet your stomachs until then?"

"Some biscuits for sure," Dwalin told her.

Ori thought for a moment. "Are there any chips?" She nodded. "Then some chips would be nice.

Bifur looked up, pulling himself out of the trance the fire had put him into. "Elukâz danukkhalâb," he told her.

"Somethin' vegetables," she said with a small grin. "I know 'danukkhalâb' is vegetables by now."

Bifur, Bofur, and Ori grinned. "Ah, she's learnin', she is!" Bofur chirped.

Nori raised his brow, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "If we don't watch out, she may be fluent soon." He wore a small grin that was quickly hidden behind his tankard.

Ori smiled up at her. "He'd like some raw vegetables," he translated.

Her cheeks flushed slightly from the bit of praise, she nodded. "Alright. I'll have ya drinks ready first," she told them before heading off.

Dwalin rested his elbows on the table. "A human shouldn't be learning our language," he quietly told the others. "It was devised for our tongues alone."

Bifur rolled his eyes slightly. "Kai Westron gagin abhyûr, líz lagab ühybîrdi. Nêdi abhyûr…ku'anmad?" he retorted.

Ori nodded in agreement. "It's not her fault if she picks up the language. Neither she nor Bifur can help it." He shrank down in his seat slightly as Dwalin raised his brow at him; it was not a scolding look, though the large dwarf still intimidated him.

"It's not like there aren't other folk who don't know Khuzdul," Nori said. They fell quiet for a moment as Baylee returned, setting their mugs before them. After they thanked her and she left, he leaned back in his seat. "Remember Lord Elrond? He's an elf and he knows our speech."

Dwalin took a long, slow drink from his beer. "It just feels odd, knowin' that someone who wasn't made by Mahal is speakin' the language he devised for us."

"Jus' remember," said Bofur, "tha' when we speak in Westron, we speak a language originally crafted by Eru." He glanced up as something moved in the corner of his eye; it was Rán returning from his bath. His brow rose; instead of trousers, the man was wearing a knee-length black skirt with a black shirt and wine-red tunic. "Huh. It's not summer yet," he murmured aloud.

"Hm?" Ori glanced at him. "Of course it's not summer; it's only the middle o' the Moon of Valacirca."

"I know, but the lad," Bofur did his best to subtly point at Rán, "is wearin' his summer garb."

Ori and Bifur leaned back in their seats, stealing peeks at the ranger. "Mukhuhel zurkuri niked sûlaniskah durjâghak?"

"Or he just doesn't have any spare trousers," Dwalin murmured. "Cannae tell with Dorwinion folk. I've heard that their men like t' wear skirts year 'round because it's warmer in their lands." He shrugged and took another long drink from his ale mug.

Nori snickered. "Maybe he just likes to feel the breeze 'round his privates." At that, the other four joined in with the quiet laughter.

Baylee returned for a second time with their appetizers. "Alright, here ya go, lads," she smiled, setting the plates down. "Anythin' else before I tend t' others?"

"How's your eye?" Nori asked. He felt bad for leaving such a dark bruise, but such things happened when sparring.

"It's fine. Haven't really noticed it, t' be honest," she reassured him, setting Bifur's plate of vegetables in front of him. "Then again, I've been too busy to notice." She glanced over her shoulder as Warren called out to her. "Ah, got t' go, lads. I'll be back when it's dinner time!" With a parting smile, she hurried across the room, not noticing that both Rán and Bofur were watching her. "Yes, papa?" she asked as she approached the large man.

He was cleaning out a tankard. "D'ya know where we put our best pewter mugs at?"

She thought for a moment. "I think they're in the very back o' the storeroom. Would ya like me t' go check?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I'll check in a bit. If they're back there, I'll need t' polish them; you're more needed up here. I have a feelin' we may be gettin' a crowd joinin' us for dinner the next few nights."

"Well, Galiene was sayin' that we'll be gettin' a crowd tomorrow for sure. What's this about Bard comin' an' holding a meeting here?" she asked, resting her elbows on the bar.

"Ah, good, she did tell you," he grinned; it was a nervous grin. She had seen such a look only twice in her life –once when the Master of Lake Town had subtly threatened hire taxes if he didn't get an expensive meal for cheap and the other when he had promised her and her mother before the War than he'd and Will would return to them alive. "Aye, he'll be stoppin' in tomorrow. It's nothin' terribly large t' worry about-"

"An' yet, here ya are, pullin' out our best mugs an' havin' Galiene cook her finest dishes…" she murmured sarcastically.

He gave her a look. "As I was sayin', it's nothin' terribly large. He mostly just wants t' dine amongst his people an' see who would be willin' t' join those goin' t' Lake Town next week an' who are able to fight…" He set down the newly-cleaned mug and started to clean another. "With all the raids takin' place in the east, he doesn't want t' risk anythin' happening t' this one, even if it's goin' in the opposite direction."

She nodded slowly, letting her finger trace over one of the more prominent patterns in the grain of the bar. "So…basically, he wants t' bribe soldiers with good food an' drink so that they'll volunteer into comin' with us when they'd rather stay home an' be with their families," she stated. Glancing up at her father, she saw that he had a brow cocked and a wry grin on his lips.

"There's no pullin' the wool over your eyes, is there, 'Lee?"

Turning around, she kept her elbows on the bar and tilted her head back at her father. "Papa, I know well enough by now that if Bard wants t' get people in a good mood, he'll bring folk here instead of coopin' them up in his palace." She rubbed the back of her neck, her muscles feeling a bit stiff. "After all, five years ago, he was a commoner like us. He knows what the people like. That's why he's doin' such a good job."

"Aye, that he is," he agreed with a small nod. "Dare say he's doin' better than any of the Masters did when we were still in Lake Town." Setting the second cleaned mug down, he reached over and ruffled his daughter's hair. "Anyway, that's all I wanted t' tell you. You should get in the kitchen; dinner's going t' be ready soon enough and I'm expectin' a bit of a crowd tonight."

"Why's that?" she asked, pouting as she tried to fix her hair. Her brow rose; it was still damp from when she dumped water on it.

He shrugged. "The night before a king comes here. There's goin' to be gossip an' rumors spreading around."

"Ah, those are always goin' 'round," she chuckled. "Remember when he got engaged? Everyone thought it'd be some Dorwinion princess, but no. It was a healer from our own town." She started to walk off towards the kitchen. "I'll see ya later, papa."

It was nearing midnight when Baylee emerged from the kitchen for the last time. Wenna, Galiene, and the stable hands had all gone to their homes for the night and Warren and Will were back in the private quarters. She was more than a little surprised to find one of the inn's customer's still awake, though he seemed to be in a sort of trance. Rán sat by the heart, his eyes fixed on the flames as he sat in the chair that had been occupied by Bofur four hours ago.

He glanced up as she stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes noticing the heavy metal key she carried in her hand. Saying nothing, he turned back to watching the dying fire, one leg drawn to his chest. He heard the scraping of key in lock and the gentle creaking of shutters being closed.

"Do you do this every night?" he questioned. Though his voice was quiet, to Baylee, it sounded as if he were standing right next to her.

"No," she answered, walking across the room to get the far windows. "Mostly it's my father who does this, but he was tired, so I told him I'd handle the closin'."

He nodded slowly, eyes following her every move. While she was not tall by any means, she was close in stature to the woman of homeland. She was a bit thinner than them, but he supposed that was because she was always running around the inn. "I would think that it would be you who has turned in for the night. What, with the sparring practice you have during the day, are you not exhausted?"

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she let out a tired laugh. "Trust me, milord, I am more than a wee bit tired. But it's nothin' I haven't felt before." She winced slightly as some hair caught on her ear cuff and she paused, taking a moment to untangle it. "Are you enjoyin' your stay here, by the way? An' please, be honest."

He chuckled. "It's much nicer than what I'm used to," he told her. "The price for rooms is fair, the food is delicious, and the drink even better. A few of my companions may not think so, but they have come from higher castes than myself, so they are used to luxury and servants waiting on them."

She cocked her head and closed the last set of shutters. "I wouldn't have expected nobles t' want t' join the rangers."

"It was no choice of theirs," he told her. "It is a requirement of our village that all who are of age join either the rangers or the healers."

"Interestin'," she murmured. "Why's that? Do ya do a lot o' fighting?" She started to lift chairs, putting them atop the tables so she could sweep.

He got up, beginning to help her; after all, there was around forty chairs to tend to. "When you live on the border between Dorwinion and the East, milady, there is almost always fighting of some sort, milady."

She frowned, glancing over at him. "Then why are you so far west? Aren't ya needed back in your home?"

He chuckled. "We were told that dwarves had returned to the Lonely Mountain and that their craftsmanship is magnificent," he explained, "so we came for better weapons. Our lands are not known for strong metals." From his side, he drew forth a hidden dagger and spun it around, offering its hilt to her.

Taking it, Baylee's eyes widened. The blade was made of sharpened bronze and the handle of carved bone. Both the metal were etched with strange designs, whether for decoration or protective spells, she did not know. "This is beautiful," she murmured, trying to take in every detail.

"Beautiful and functional, but not as strong as we would like," he remarked. He took the weapon back as she offered it to him. "It will take time for us to get used to the new weapons, but I am sure the investment of gold and energy will be more than worth it."

She nodded, moving to continue placing chairs on the tables. "So…then you've fought Easterlings? Have ya ever met them on peaceful terms?"

"Oh, plenty of times," he chimed. "The Easterlings we fight are tribes that have no love for those who worship the Valar. Those who dwell in cities, however, can be most friendly."

"That's always good," she started to say, but what came out was 'That's always', for she slipped in some spilled ale and started to tumble towards the ground, chair in hand.

Rán lurched forward, his arm wrapping around her waist and catching her. His other hand snatched up the chair that she had started to drop and set it lightly atop the table. He looked at her, worried. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Her cheeks were crimson. "A-aye, I'm fine," she told him. "Just a wee bit in shock right now." She swallowed hard and smiled shyly at him; he seemed to be even more handsome this close up.

Something moved in the upper reaches of his vision and he glanced up, seeing Bofur yawning as he came down the stairs. Seeing that he looked a bit startled, she tilted her head back only to giggle as she saw the tired dwarf. To her, he looked rather adorable; to anyone else (who was not a dwarf), he would have been found ridiculous.

Bofur, on the other hand, paused just before stepping off of the stairs. "Er…I'm not interruptin' some sort o' dance am I?" he cautiously asked. His cheeks turned a bit pink and a strange, unknown feeling came to the pit of his stomach as he watched Rán set Baylee upright.

"No. Miss Baylee slipped on some spilled drink," Rán explained, his voice as calm as ever. "I merely caught her before she could get hurt."

"An' I thank ya for it," Baylee told him, still giggling slightly. She turned back towards Bofur. "Is there anythin' I can get you, lad?"

He held up the pitcher of water from there room. "Nori stole all our water," he told her, "so I was just comin' down t' get some more."

She playfully rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't have that. Pardon me, milord." Bofur opened the kitchen door for her and she thanked him, not seeing that he gave Rán a wary look before following her in.

"I'm surprised you're still up, lass," he yawned. "It's got t' be the wee hours of the mornin' by now!" He shifted the pitcher to his other hand. Something about Rán and his rangers was beginning to feel 'off' to him, but he couldn't quite place it. 'It's not nice to judge strangers, Bofur,' he scolded himself. 'Especially if one just kept Miss Baylee from falling.'

Pulling bolt loose on the door, she headed outside. "Actually," she smiled, "it's just past midnight. I'd like t' be in bed, but I told papa I'd close up tonight. They've a long day ahead of them tomorrow." She started to turn the lever that would draw up the well's bucket.

"Ya don't have to do that, Baylee," he told her, lightly setting his hand atop hers to stop her. In the darkness, neither could see that the other started to blush. "I've got it. You've done enough by escortin' me out here."

A quiet, shy laugh left her mouth. "I'm just doin' my job, Bofur," she told him. Her voice was quiet; she didn't want to disturb the night.

His smile went unseen. "An' you're doing a wonderful job."

She bit her tongue and glanced away. "Thank you," she bashfully murmured.

"It's true," he chuckled. "You're always smilin' an' helpin' everyone…You even make Dwalin laugh, which is hard t' do if you're not tellin' crude jokes or boastin' about awesome feats in battle," he half-rambled. "You're like…a lil' ray of sunshine turned into a human t' keep people happy all the time."

Once again, Baylee found herself giggling. Both she and Bofur glanced up as the door to the kitchen opened unexpectedly. A beam of light shone out into the darkness, illuminating them. they could see the silhouette of Rán standing in the doorway, something held in his hand. Unconsciously, Baylee pulled her hand away from Bofur's, though soon regretted it; her hand grew cold in the night air.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, more to Baylee than to Bofur, "but I thought it best to refill my own water before turning into bed as well." Baylee knew that he had been put into a single-person room by request, so she was a little confused as to why his water hadn't been filled earlier in the day.

As the bucket reached the top of the well, she grabbed it for Bofur. "Did Wenna or Demelza not fill up your pitcher earlier?" she asked, brows furrowing slightly. It seemed a bit odd that they would forget.

Bofur raised his brow. It didn't seem possible to him that Rán had had enough time to go upstairs, open his room, grab the pitcher, and come all the way back down in the short amount of time that had passed since he and Baylee had come outside. 'Unless,' he thought, 'we dawdled a little longer than I thought…That certainly could have happened; I mean, I did ramble on for a bit there…' He tried to shove the thought from his mind. 'Stop distrustin' strangers,' he scolded again.

"They did," he told her, "but I do not blame them; there are many rooms that need tended to on a daily basis. It is understandable that they would forget one at least once in a while." He gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded slowly, first filling Bofur's pitcher and then Rán's. "Well, I apologize. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, milord."

He dismissively waved. "It is not of any trouble, Miss Baylee," he assured her. "I am sure it could have happened to any room –even Master Dwarf's room."

Bofur nodded slowly. "Aye, it could have," he agreed, "so don't you go worryin' about anything. You've already got enough balanced on your plate." He took the bucket from her and let it drop back into the well. "Speakin' o' which –you need t' get yourself off t' bed."

She shook her head as the three of them went back into the kitchen. "I still have t' sweep an' clean up that puddle." Bolting the door behind them, she untied her apron and picked up a dry cloth.

"The puddle I understand, but the floor is not very dirty," Rán told her. "I am positive you could leave sweeping for another time." He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. "Pardon me…I must get to bed now." Giving them a small bow, he bade them goodnight and left Bofur and Baylee in the kitchen, Bofur watching him until he disappeared behind the door.

He turned to the human as she moved to pick up a broom. "He's right, Baylee," he told her, "you can leave the sweepin' for another time. You're exhausted, lass. In fact…" Setting his pitcher down, he gently plucked the cloth from her hands. "I'll clean up the puddle. You get yourself off t' bed. An' you leave the breakfast t' your da' an' brother."

"Bofur, I can't let ya-"

He held up a hand, wiggling his index finger while the other hand rested on his hip. "Ah, ah, ah!" he said, his tone a mixture of teasing and scolding. "Dwarrow's orders. Off t' bed with ya, lass!" He made a shooing motion at her, grinning as, giggling, Baylee turned and hurried off. As he went to go clean up the mess, he paused for a moment, looking at a shelf.

"Huh," he murmured aloud. "Could have sworn there was a pitcher there a few minutes ago…" He shrugged and continued on his way, thinking no more of it.