Late morning sunlight and a severe need to relieve himself woke the Dwarf the next day. He kept his eyes closed, trying to recall every detail of the hazy dream he'd had. It had been nice, being surrounded by his own kind, being cared for and soothed, just like in all the dreams he never spoke of. Bitterness flooded his soul. It had been a nice dream.

Or was it a dream?

The Dwarf became aware of more than his bladder as he woke more fully. His entire body was stiff and he ached. It hurt to breathe, each inhale stretching his sore ribs. And he seemed to be lying on a soft bed, not in a bedroll. As he registered all this, a deep sense of foreboding filled him. It wasn't a dream. He had been wounded and dying and had been rescued by a group of Dwarfs. They had helped him, and panic clawed at his chest. He didn't have any gold to give them. What would they do when they found out? They'd turn on him in an instant.

A creak startled him, and his eyes flew open. He saw the one who had patched him up sitting in a chair reading a book, a yellow hat perched on his head as his fingers absently combed through his beard. The Dwarf sucked in a breath, and those intense brown eyes looked up and met his. It was quite the surprise when Doc sat up and smiled, marking his place with a feather.

"Good morning," he said, his voice warm and welcoming. "How are you feeling?"

The Dwarf didn't answer, unsure of what to say. So he did what he would do in any such situation: he scowled and looked away, not saying anything.

Doc blinked at him, confused by the reaction. He tried again. "A bit sore, I'd guess."

The Dwarf snorted. "Waddaya think?" he demanded gruffly, shifting with a grimace.

Doc was pleased that he was well enough to be snarky. This Dwarf was tough as nails. "I think you're in quite a bit of rain," he said idly.

The Dwarf let out a bark of laughter. "Rain?" he sneered.

Doc's round cheeks turned pink. "Um, I meant pain."

"Yeah. I'm in pain. But I ain't wet." He snickered, and Doc turned even redder.

"Anyways," he said loudly. "Do you need the chamber pot?"

The Dwarf flushed and grumbled, which was answer enough. He was in far too much pain to get there on his own, and he knew it. Doc was kind as he helped him to sit up. His thigh burned and the Dwarf hissed between his teeth.

"Easy there," Doc soothed. "Up we go."

After he was done, the Dwarf fell back on the bed, shivering. Everything hurt. He was weak and naked and in the presence of Dwarfs without any gold or jewels. What was he going to do?

"How about some punch? Uh, lunch."

The Dwarf squinted at the pink-faced Doc, wondering at the second mixup. Did he have a speech impediment? That was certainly interesting.

"No," he answered curtly.

Doc looked surprised. "Why not? Certainly you're hungry!"

"Nope."

A snarling sound made him scowl and look away, this time his cheeks were the ones turning pink. Doc frowned at him.

"Are you sure? Happy's making a feast."

The Dwarf exhaled. He had to tell him. "Ain't got no gold," he said tightly.

A ball of anxiety made his stomach clench. What would the Dwarf do now? What kind of payment would he demand?

Doc was perplexed. "Why do you need gold?"

The Dwarf turned and gave him a sharp look. When he saw the genuine confusion, he frowned.

"Gotta pay ya fer food, don't I?" he asked. "Gotta pay ya fer patchin' me up, too."

Doc laughed, his whole body relaxing. "Of course not! We're happy to help. How silly. You're sunny, uh, funny."

"Silly?" the Dwarf asked, frowning harder. "Funny?"

Doc chuckled. "Of course. That's such a human thing to say. Humans are so silly. They don't understand Dwarfs. They think we crave treasure for everything."

Doc noticed the bewildered, disbelieving look on the Dwarf's face and fell silent. Did this Dwarf really not know that was ridiculous? How was that possible? Had his parents not taught him? Perhaps he had human friends and picked up their fears? But no, that didn't sound right, either.

"You know that, right?" Doc asked gently. "That Dwarfs don't crave treasure."

A flash of embarrassment crossed the Dwarf's face, then he scowled and looked away. "Course I do. I'm not a fool."

"I didn't say you were," Doc said. "Now. How about some food? Free of charge."

Another snarl, and the Dwarf huffed but hesitated. "Yer sure?"

Doc nodded with a big smile. "Yes. Of course."

"Then… food would be good."

"Excellent."

Doc hopped up and went across the room to a door. He pushed it open and shouted downstairs.

"Our guest is awake, Happy! Bring a plate!"

He walked back over and pulled back the blankets to assess the Dwarf's ribs.

"What're ya starin' at?"

"I wasn't sure last night if they were broken," Doc murmured, his gentle fingers pressing around the large, ugly bruise that stretched across his left side. The Dwarf hissed but he stayed still, watching Doc's expressive face as he studied his ribs. A satisfied expression crossed his face and he nodded. "Just bruised. Is it difficult to breathe?"

"Ain't nothin' I cain't handle."

"Good."

Another Dwarf appeared in the doorway, and the stranger could practically see sunbeams radiating from him. He was rounder than Doc and he bounced as he walked over with two large plates of food. Doc took one and set it aside on a table and the sunny Dwarf beamed at the stranger.

"Hello there! You look pretty roughed up!"

Bewildered by how happy the Dwarf sounded, the stranger scowled. "Makes ya happy, does it?" he snarled.

The Dwarf looked surprised then laughed, grasping his large belly with his free hand. That only made the stranger more uncomfortable.

"What's so funny, blast it?" he barked.

The Dwarf continued to chuckle. "I am Happy."

"I got that, ya ijit. But what are ya happy fer? T'ain't nothin' funny!"

The Dwarf chortled. "No, no, you don't understand. Happy is my name. Perty accurate, ain't it?"

The stranger didn't like the sparkling eyes. He hated being laughed at, and he flushed and crossed his arms, looking away and scowling. Happy's smile faded, and he suddenly looked unsure. Doc patted his arm, gesturing for him to talk.

"Didn't mean nothing by it," Happy said gently. "I'm sorry."

A grunt was all he got, and the strange Dwarf didn't look at him again. He seemed very, very angry.

"Um, I brought some vittles," he tried again.

This time the Dwarf looked at him, eying the plate hungrily. Happy perked up at once.

"Let's get you sitting up," Doc said cheerily. He hefted the Dwarf upright, wincing as he hissed again, his hand going protectively to his ribs. Doc knew then that he was in far more discomfort than he'd admitted to. He'd have to make a numbing salve for his ribs.

"There you go," Doc said, fluffing the pillows before easing him back. He took the plate from Happy and handed it over.

The Dwarf hesitated, glancing at the food and then back to Doc. Doc was baffled that a fellow Dwarf had the wild notions of a human when it came to his own kind, but he gave an encouraging smile and gestured for him to eat.

"Go on. You're practically skin and loans, erm, bones. And Happy is the best nook, er, took—Ugh!—cook out of all of us."

After a first, reluctant bite, the Dwarf began shoveling down the food. He couldn't help it. He was half-starved. That was why he'd been after the gold. He was desperate for a good, hot meal. Happy and Doc watched, glancing at each other as the theory that he hadn't been eating was confirmed. He finished in a short time, and Happy leaned forward.

"There's more if you want it."

Reluctance appeared in his eyes and he shoved the plate toward Happy. "No. 'M fine."

Happy blinked at him, but Doc shook his head slightly when he opened his mouth, so he changed what he was going to say.

"Okay then. Well, best get down and clean up."

He took the empty plate and walked away, closing the door most of the way behind him. Doc smiled at his patient.

"Now, you better test, uh, rest. Try not to get up. I'll be back in a little while. Got to check on the others."

Doc stood up and noticed the Dwarf look hungrily at the full plate that was meant for him. He pretended not to notice and headed for the door.

"See you in a while."

He stepped outside and closed the door most of the way and paused then peeked in. The Dwarf was already reaching for the food. He turned around, clicking his tongue and scratching his head as he quietly moved down the stairs. The others were looking up at him, and Happy, no doubt guessing what he'd done, went to wash a plate and fill it up with more food.

"Something wrong?" Bashful asked from the table, licking his fingers clean of gravy.

"I'm not sure what to drink, um, think of him," Doc said, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" Sneezy asked.

"Happy?" Doc asked. "What're your thoughts?"

Happy scooped up a large helping of creamed potatoes for Doc and looked thoughtful.

"He's a bit… odd. First he acts like he don't want the food, and then he gulps it down like he's starvin'! I'd bet my boots he's cleaned the second plate, too."

"Why wouldn't he want to eat?" Sleepy asked.

Doc combed his fingers through his beard. "Well…" He paused and tapped his foot. "He seems to think we're going to barge him, er, charge him for saving his life and feeding him."

Silence. Then they all burst out laughing. The laughter died away very quickly when they saw how serious and worried Doc was.

"Wait. Yer not foolin'?" Sneezy demanded, his watery eyes widening.

"Gee willikers, what gave him that idea?" Bashful asked.

"I'm… I'm not really sure," Doc answered. "But when he realized I was delirious, erm, serious about not charging him, he tried to cover up what he said, like he was poking, ugh! joking around, but I don't think he was."

Doc sat down at the table and busied himself with his own plate. He was quiet as he considered the Dwarf upstairs and recalled looking at him the night before, limp enough to be dead yet somehow alive, bruised and bloodied, exhausted and starving. But out of all of that, what bothered him most of all was the apparent beliefs, in fact the very human beliefs, about Dwarfs. He didn't understand what had happened to make a Dwarf act like that. The others let him eat and think, focusing on their own food.

"Hm," Doc finally said, sitting back. "I don't know what's going on with him. But I don't think he's dangerous. Are we agreed to help him get his strength back?"

His brothers all nodded at once.

"Gosh, yes," Bashful said. "But why ask? Isn't it obvious we're gonna help him?"

"To us? Yes. But I bet that tomorrow, he's going to try and achieve, um, leave."

"Maybe he'd got family comin'," Happy suggested. "But he shouldn't leave 'til they get here."

"Yeah. We'll get to meet some new Dwarfs," Sneezy said excitedly.

"Guess we're stayin' home fer a few days," Sleepy said, idly waving a fly away. He yawned and leaned on his elbow. "It'll be a nice break."

"That's the ticket!" Doc encouraged. "A good way to blink, er, think about it!"

He looked around and noticed Dopey wasn't there.

"Dopey? Dopey, where are you?"

They all looked around, and Bashful tapped Doc on the shoulder and pointed up the stairs. The door that had been cracked was now open. They scrambled away from the table and crept up the stairs to peek in. Dopey was sitting on the wooden end of the bed, staring curiously at the sleeping newcomer. His blue eyes were bright, and his feet in their blue stockings were resting on the blankets.

Doc walked in and gently lifted his youngest brother from the end. Dopey turned and tilted his head, asking a question.

Doc pressed his fingers to his lips and guided him out. They all went downstairs and Doc answered the question.

"He needs rest, Dopey. He's very tired and in a lot of pain. You can visit with him later."

Dopey wiggled his large ears and nodded. His brothers laughed at him and affectionately jostled and nudged him. Then they all looked up to stare at the door, curious about the stranger. Dopey tugged on Sneezy's shirt and pointed, tilting his head.

Sneezy smiled. "I don't know. Sorry, Dopey. Better ask them what he's like."

Happy let out a gleeful laugh. "He's a little grumpy, if you ask me."

Doc nodded then turned to his brothers. "Let's clean up the wishes, er, dishes."

They nodded and headed for the table.