/-

The next afternoon she felt good enough to join the rest of them around the fire. She accepted a cup of ale and saw Dwalin eyeing her. He shuffled around until they were seated next to each other and exchanged her cup for one of plain water. It was too bad Dwalin and Thorin were better off together, Yeva thought, because he was really easy to get along with. She felt they understood one another.

The dwarves were talking about the wonders of Erebor of old and what was likely to have happened to their city during Smaug's rule.

"What kind of king was Thorin's grandfather?" More than one dwarf was frowning, so she hastened to qualify her question. "He must have been an exceptionally gifted trader, but other than that? Was he more inclined towards cultural development - building, sciences, arts and industry, and so on - or was he a military commander king?"

"Well," Balin started, "as a king he had to do everything, of course."

She saw the others nodding. The archetypal king then, a warrior, a shaman - of the Arkenstone variety, and a miner / trader / whatever. Won't fly with me, mes potes. "Yes, but what was he interested in?"

"Erebor was renowned for its artisans and artists," Thorin spoke. "Our centers of learning attracted scholars from all corners of Arda. Our wares were prized the world over for their exquisite craftsmanship -" He would have said more, Yeva thought, but Balin wanted his share of the conversation. Hello there, Lady Catherine.

"Aye," Balin butted in, "the stairs were all emerald, the columns inlaid with gold."

Non, mais tu plaisantes? Legit Lady C. She did not say it aloud, of course, that would be just plain rude. Snark, however, was perfectly acceptable.

"That's nice. How old were you, master Balin, when you last saw the city?" As far as she knew only Thorin was old enough to remember anything from before Smaug, although probably not much.

"We all know the stories, lass," Dori chided and the rest of them murmured their agreement.

Sweet baby bunny Peter, a bunch of middle-aged codgers harping about past wonders - wonders they haven't ever witnessed, no less. What had Thorin been thinking? If that was the best he had, then Dáin looked more and more like the better ruler. "Dwarves sure like their gold," she quipped, not able to keep her mouth shut.

"You do not wear any, my lady," Ori remarked.

"I find jewelry very inconvenient on a journey, master Ori."

"But do you have any?" Nori asked with more interest than she thought was warranted.

"At home or with me? I have plenty of stuff at home, even though I hardly ever wear it. With me, I only have one earring."

"Why do you not wear it?" Was that Fíli talking? She couldn't tell the youngsters apart by voice alone, not yet. You should spend more time with them, Yeye, you can't just sleep your way to the mountain.

"I don't particularly like it," she shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder why I keep it, but I guess it reminds me of - of my family, of my grandparents."

"Can we see it?" This was Kíli.

"Sure. One sec, be right back." She came back with her earring, which she took from her wallet where it lived these many, many years, ever since she lost its pair.

She passed it to Dwalin first, because he was closest to her, and from there it passed through almost everybody else's hands as they were all curious to have a look.

"It's small," Fíli remarked. A politician's declaration, if she ever heard one.

"Aye, lass, it's not much to look at." She was sure she lost another bit of Balin's consideration with the earring, not that he showed her much in the first place. Balin was very much unlike his brother.

"It's a keepsake, so I'll continue to keep it." It was a plain little thing, she shouldn't be bothered that they looked at it with slight contempt, but she was.

"Why do you not have something you like with you?"

"Good question," she pulled a face, not knowing what to say. "I never bought jewelry for myself - or made any. Everything I have was gifted to me by my family and I don't like any of it." She didn't know how to explain and they didn't know what to make of her account. Blank faces all around. "I like things that look more chunky than flimsy, you know. Like Dwalin's or Dori's ear cuffs, for example. I like them, I'd wear something like this. Or a cuff bracelet, not bangles or spindly chains. And everything I have is… I don't know - they are all delicate pieces and just not nice; in my opinion."

"Soon enough you'll have something better, lass," Dwalin encouraged her.

Was he offering? She couldn't imagine him with crimping pliers, he didn't look the type. Then again, he might have made his jewelry himself, what did she know? They weren't yet on such good terms that she would ask him to teach her how to make something or even ask him to make something for her, but they'll get there, she was sure.

/-

Yeva's earring was a miserable piece and whoever worked it should be flogged, Thorin thought darkly. Of course she did not like it. Why would she wear anything so ugly? Why would anybody? Yes, they shall make something for her, something that she would like to have and wear proudly.

He was surprised by the way she described her preferred style, but he knew he could make something beautiful even if it would not be delicate. She was delicate enough as it was, perhaps she was right to choose more sturdy pieces.

"Hey, you were a smith, right?" She asked him and her eyes twinkled with delight. "Can you make something? Something small."

You could hear a pin drop and Thorin felt himself flush. His sister-sons' eyes were huge, their mouths slightly opened.

"Aye, something small," Dwalin drawled, "to begin with."

"Yep," she agreed. "Or you can teach me and I can make it myself. I'd love to learn, although if I want to wear it then it's probably better that you do the first one."

Women were entirely too much trouble, Thorin was sure of it.

/-

"I never asked you about the beads," she said that evening, once Thorin was in his sleeping bag next to her, "or about your hair. I mean, can I ask? Or is it something that you cannot talk about?"

She was not tired and felt talkative. She also wanted to talk to him about less weighty subjects, so to speak, to move over any awkwardness that may linger between them. Because she still wanted to kiss him silly, but he didn't need to know that.

"Why would that be something I cannot talk about?" he rumbled.

"Cultural taboos? Maybe there's a super secret code or something." He rolled his eyes and squinted at her. "Also, can I touch the beads in your hair?"

"Touch?" Now he frowned. He probably thought she was making fun of him.

"More broadly, are there any things I should know about your culture so that I won't offend? I'm going to spend a lot of time with you all and I wouldn't like to upset you or your friends."

"Your concern is appreciated." At least he wasn't frowning anymore, but way not to answer the question, mon pote.

"So - the hair, the beads, the beards. Come on, I want the story," she nudged him a bit and he relented.

Some of it was what she expected: some beads had meaning, many did not, they were adornments and nothing else. Dwarves liked to craft - loved to craft, actually - and beads were an expression of their love for all things beautiful. Jewelry of any kind was cherished, in fact.

Some of it was kind of unexpected: the hair was not-so-special. Long, well-groomed hair of any description was a sign of a long and plentiful life. The more gold and stones they had woven in it, the more plentiful, evidently.

He took out one of his beads for her to look at it. It was very well made, smooth metal, intricately worked, inlaid with some kind of precious stone, although she didn't know what it was. She loved it. She'd also never wear anything like it in her hair.

"Don't you get headaches from all the hair and all the beads? This one is heavier than I thought it would be."

"Nay."

Oh, well, back to single-word answers.

"So would anybody mind if I would care for them? Like washing their wounds, making bandages, and so on? Or cooking? I saw Bombur adding different spices to different bowls, you know? It's his way of caring, a special gift for each of you. Is there anything I should know about this? Because where I come from there are thousands of different peoples with thousands of different customs when it comes to interactions between people who are not related."

He considered her question for some moments.

"Dwarves who are not related and are not on very good terms with each other do not touch one another. We do not shake hands the way I saw your people do."

"Right. Am I on good terms with you all? Because caring for scrapes and wounds will be needed. I'm not squeamish, I won't faint at the sight of blood, but I'd also want to know, I guess, that your people are not going to throw a fit because a woman touches them."

"You should not worry so. Any assistance you are willing to give will be appreciated."

"Great. That's great."

None of them spoke for a few minutes. "Despite what I said the other day, I do know and understand that you would prefer to avoid any entanglements," Thorin continued.

Entanglements? She was not sure how to parse his words. "And that means?"

"You will not be forced into a marriage because you helped care for some of us during our quest."

Ah, that. "I wasn't worried about being forced into anything. I would just say no and that's it. More like I wouldn't want anybody to feel like they have any… Any obligation towards me."

He nodded but didn't add anything else. All in all a very productive talk. We should do it more often, she thought to herself and fought hard not to roll her eyes. Yeye, you need more friends, people who like to talk and want to talk.

/-

He could see she still had questions, but since she chose not to voice them he thought it would be better to leave her to her thoughts. The way she thought about life, about what was going on around her was utterly foreign to him.

She asked about hair - as if that would ever matter! - and about tending to wounds and cooking. Cooking! Who in their right mind would misunderstand simple curiosity or the willingness to help a fellow member of the company for anything else?

Yet she thought nothing of her request that he sleep next to her to protect her; she thought nothing of asking him to make her a gift - with his own hands, no less. He wished he knew what to do about it. She had nobody else in this world and she was slow to make friends. He had tried to distance himself from her but only made things worse.

His cousin called Yeva his woman and he did not doubt that more than one of the others thought the same. She was not, nor did she want to be. Just the same she asked him to court her. Oh, he knew full well that she did not mean to do so. It was the kind of secret code, as she called it, that he grew up with and she did not.

The more time he spent with her courting her, even without her understanding, the more everybody would have expectations.

Dwalin was the only one of them on his way to becoming close to her and it was enough to make his cousin feel protective of her. Not unexpectedly, she was the only woman in their group, and Thorin had the bruises from his lesson in manners. The others might not like her much - yet - but even they would not think twice about reminding him what was owed to her. She had asked him and he had accepted and now he had to go through with it.

That night she had another nightmare, worse than before. She dreamed in her foreign tongue and cried, first softly, then with great sobs. She called for Kíli and did not settle until his sister-son talked to her.

He was beside himself with worry. Such torment every night could drive one mad. He was beside himself with shame. For days and days he had left her alone without help or comfort.

/-

The next day everybody was walking on eggshells around her, throwing funny looks her way. Did she do anything? Say anything? In the end, she cornered Dwalin who told her she had another nightmare.

Oh. "I cannot help it and I don't remember anything at all. I feel really good today, like I had a good sleep last night, you know?"

"Aye, that you did, after you stopped crying."

Dwalin wanted to sound cryptic - it was ridiculous. Whatever. Then it dawned on her. "That is why I woke up in Thorin's sleeping bag! I feel kind of bad for him, stuck with babysitting duty."

"Think nothing of it, lass. It is his duty, as you say."

Riiight. Were they talking about the same thing? Should she ask?

Just then she saw Thorin coming back from wherever he went and beaconed him. Fíli and Kíli were with him. "Do you have time?"

He huffed in place of an answer. Yep, they had nothing but time until the day they could read the map. Which had to be close now.

"About yesterday - about Thror? How was the city ruled? Was there a council who advised the king?"

"Aye."

She hated ayes and nays. And she absolutely hated Thorin when that was all he was willing to say. "That won't do. You cannot give one-word answers and expect me to come up with anything useful. However, if you'd rather not talk city and kingdom governance right now, then I understand and I'll let you do your thing. I wanted to ask yesterday and then you people went on to talk about gold and jewelry and whatnot."

/-

She was instructing him on what to say and what not to say to her. Mahal sent him a woman who did not ask that he praise her beauty during their courtship, but commanded him to talk to her about the minutiae of running a settlement. Fíli and Kíli were looking at her with wonder, Dwalin with glee.

"What would you like to know?"

"How do you typically run your kingdoms? Who advises the king, how are the decisions made, who has a say, and so on."

"There is a council; all the heads of the clans participate."

"I see," he watched her pondering. "Who else, besides the heads of the clans, is part of the council?"

"Else?"

"How many people are in this council? And who else?"

"Only the chief of the halls, or the king in Thror's case," Dwalin answered for him, "and the lords. It's our tradition."

He did not know what Yeva was about, but he was sure he was not going to like it. Her questions were too pointed for her to not have a purpose behind them.

"So this council -" she stopped then spoke slowly, picking her words one by one, "how many people would have participated? Less than twenty? Twenty to fifty? More? How many are now in your council in Ered Luin?"

"There are twelve now in our council, we are much diminished," it pained him to admit to it.

"And in your grandfather's council? How many would you say there were?"

"You ask a lot of questions, lass." Balin had been listening, together with a few others, and apparently, he was not pleased. He would have to have a word with his cousin.

"Of course I do. You are paying me to analyze what went wrong. I cannot do so without understanding, in as much detail as possible, the day-to-day operation of your kingdom."

"Smaug went wrong, that's what!" Balin was getting rather red in the face and he had no idea why. Dwalin had no idea why - Thorin could see him signing his brother to stand down.

"Smaug is an externality, master Balin."

"A what?"

"An externality. Something that has an impact on your life without having any connection with it. As such it cannot be the only thing that went wrong."

More than one dwarf was starting to get a tad red in the face, Thorin observed, except for Dwalin. He had a look of honest interest in Yeva's questions and opinions.

"How do you mean?"

"For example, in my city, no large building is allowed to stand that does not have a secondary exit - or more than one, depending on its size - in case a disaster strikes, like a fire. Large buildings that house tens or hundreds of people have to have plans drawn for efficient evacuation in case of fire. Did you have anything like this? And most importantly, did you drill for it?"

"Drill?"

"Nay, such plans were never drawn, not as far as I know." An oversight, he thought. Such plans would have helped avoid so many deaths.

"Drill means to repeat a set of steps - of actions - so much that you can do it in your sleep, Kíli. Dwalin drills you when he puts you through your sword fighting stances." Then she turned to him. "So Erebor didn't have emergency evacuation plans. What about Thorin's Halls?"

"Ered Luin is not going to be attacked by a dragon!"

"Master Balin, I can come up with a dozen ways it can be laid to waste. You are rather isolated there, aren't you? Who's going to come to your aid? The Shire hobbits? The menfolk? Maybe the elves?"

"Right as always, mistress Yeva," Dwalin said to Thorin's great surprise, effectively cutting off any objections the rest might have thought to voice. He owed Dwalin for this. That aside, he should warn Yeva not to speak so freely. He wanted to hear her advice, and Dwalin did too, but that was about it. The rest would not take kindly to hearing her judgment of them.

"We have those in the mines," Bofur pulled his mustache in thought, "escape galleries in case of cave-ins." Bifur and Bombur too nodded their agreement.

"Yeah, exactly like that. This is why I asked about the council," she turned to look at him again. "You need more people on the council, and these people have to be something else other than lords. Any miner would have told you the same thing I did if only you'd have listened. So the question is - are your dwarven lords willing to listen to people who know what needs to be done or are you all going the way of the Dodo, doing what you've always done?" She looked tired all of a sudden; tired and glum. "The Dodo were a species of large birds, one that doesn't exist anymore because the conditions changed and the birds didn't adapt and they all died."

She got up and went to her tree and Dwalin followed her. He could see them talking for a bit, then she patted his back and stretched herself down in the grass.

/-

"She's right," Dwalin announced when he was back.

"She knows not one thing about us!" Balin was seething. "She presumes to -"

"Brother, you're not thinking clearly," Dwalin went on unbothered. "We are cut off from our kin, as she said. Should goblins or orcs decide to mount a sustained attack on our halls, I doubt we'd last a year, if that."

"But how can she know?" Kíli pondered, "how can she know we have no allies?"

"We do not get along with elves, to say the least," Fíli shrugged, "and we scorn menfolk for their brutish ways. 'Tis no secret that. It stands to reason they would not risk life or limb for us." He was untroubled by the state of affairs, "and we'd return the favor, I am sure."

"Threat and defense analyst, she said," Dwalin mused. "She must be used to searching for weaknesses."

"We'll need to forge alliances if we are to survive. Stronger alliances, not ones solely based on trade ties." It was as close as he could come to finding fault with his grandfather. And to think - Yeva found innumerable faults with their ways and never once did she mention Thror's madness. No doubt she had an opinion and a solution about it too. Something that he was sure to dislike intensely.

/-

Dwalin came to her in the afternoon to talk self-defense. She told him about fencing lessons when she was a teen and they spoke a bit about the difference between a contest of skill and fighting for your life. He made the point, repeatedly, that she should never hesitate to take a life. The orcs she spared were the orcs who'd kill her, given a chance, or who would kill another one of their Company.

"I doubt I'm able to kill somebody," she sighed. "I understand the necessity of it; I agree with your assessment, I just don't know if I'll do it when it comes down to it."

"You should still prepare yourself. Your nightmares worry me," he paused and frowned. "They worry us all; they will be even worse after you first kill someone."

"Mental preparation is key, got it. I have to imagine myself in such a situation and decide in my head to k-kill," she stuttered slightly and Dwalin frowned even more. "I will think on it until I - I don't know what. Until it gets easy?"

"It never does, lass. For your own sake I hope you won't see any fighting on this journey," he said in that serious way he had. She was not fooled though.

"You know I cannot answer this question," she smiled a little to show she was not angry.

/-

In the evening Thorin sat himself in his place next to her, Dwalin on his other side, both of them with their pipes. They spoke but little, mostly about how sparring in pairs went and what they could do to improve it. Yeva spoke not at all and fell asleep quite soon, with a smile on her face.

That night she had another nightmare, just like the night before. She called his name this time and wept and wept.

"I don't know, Thorin," Oin was wringing his hands uselessly, "maybe we should speak to Gandalf or the elves."

When she next woke up it didn't look like anything was bothering her. Maybe it didn't, maybe they were making something out of nothing. She went to the bathing halls as she did most mornings, he knew she liked to swim. She couldn't have been gone for more than a few minutes when she came back deathly white and trembling with fear.

"I saw my neighbor," she said before he had a chance to ask her what was wrong. "I saw someone who looked so much like him, I thought it was him."

"And?"

"He disappeared. Like that day on the road?" He nodded, he remembered how she had seen him just before they passed back into Arda.

He sat her down on her bedroll and then covered her with his cloak; she was still trembling. Oin and Bombur said something about tea and he told them to get to it. For himself Balin made some remarks about feeble-minded women; he truly had to have words with his cousin.

/-

Dwalin was chagrined to see how poorly his own brother could behave when his purposes were crossed. He understood that Balin was first and foremost a politician, that he always looked at things into the future, and that everything he did was a stepping stone towards whatever objective he had in mind.

It never bothered him before. The elder brother was the brains in their family, the youngest was the brawn; a perfect pair as things stood.

What Balin was doing now, however, was plain wrong. His final goal, no matter what it was, must also be wrong if it compelled him to stoop to callousness. He would think on it later, he would make time to ponder. If things went on like this he might have to make choices in the future, choices he never thought he'd be called to consider.

For now, he needed to understand what happened. The vision, whether real or not, disturbed Yeva to such an extent that he would not have thought possible. She hadn't looked half as afraid during their scuffle with the orcs.

Thorin too had been disturbed. He knew what she was talking about, evidently, and he also looked troubled enough to make Dwalin think that whatever she saw had been real.

As soon as Thorin left her in the care of Oin and Bombur he went to his cousin and asked for explanations. Kíli and Fíli were there too, not what he wanted, but swift action might be needed. He had to know if there was any danger lurking around.

"A little before I was carried to her house, no more than a few weeks I believe, a man came to lodge with a friend of his in the same village Yeva lived; thus they became neighbors. From what she said I do not believe anybody knew who he was.

After the storm, he met her on a path and told her that he was concerned that a woman living alone attracts all manner of scoundrels."

"But he didn't know about you," Dwalin wanted there to be no room for doubt.

Thorin took his time to think. "No," he didn't sound very sure though, "no," he said again, "at that time nobody knew that Yeva found me. Her cabin was on a hillside in a forest. The flood did a lot of damage and partially washed away a road further down."

"What a strange thing to say," Kíli cut in, "hardly useful to a widow who couldn't help but live alone."

"Aye, lad." Not strange, Dwalin thought, menacing. He had no doubt there was intent behind the words.

"Then after some time… it was..." He was drumming his fingers, trying to remember. "Yes, the evening before we were brought here, I saw a man, very tall, dressed all in white, with a long beard and a large hat, who was peering inside through the windows."

"What did you do?" Fíli looked very unimpressed at the beginning, but his uncle seeing someone changed everything for him.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?!" Both lads were incensed, Dwalin could almost see their wish to have words, or fists, with the strange man.

"Yeva was not best pleased with me that day," Thorin shrugged. Dwalin couldn't help a smirk, wondering what his cousin could have done.

"And before I could make up my mind he disappeared. I only glimpsed the apparition for a moment."

"What then?"

"The next day was the day we were brought to Trollshaw. At the market another of Yeva's neighbors told her he walked by her cabin in the morning and saw this same man trying to look inside. And later as we made our way up on a path, Yeva again saw him for a moment. Then at some point, we lost our path," Dwalin noticed that Thorin was much sure of what he was recounting; like everything was finally in place. "Aye, we lost our path and the forest changed around us by degrees. She did not notice and I did not notice either until there was no turning back."

"She didn't ask to come with you then?" Why would Fíli ask such a stupid question Dwalin did not know; the lad plainly had a long way to go.

"She did not. Why would she have done so? Why would I have granted such a wish when it puts her in peril?"

Stupid questions aside, Fíli at least knew when it was time tu shut up. Kíli had no such wisdom.

"We thought she wanted the courtship for the riches of our mountain."

Thorin was left with his mouth hanging open, but after a few moments he came back to himself and let out a bitter chuckle.

"In her life, she was rich beyond anything you can imagine, Kíli. She was respected by one and all and many people sought to hire her for her skills. She worked much of the time I spent with her, even though she had no need to work. I - we - need some of her skills in this quest of ours. For her part she would be much better off if she never laid eyes on me; of that, I have no doubt."

He'd think of what Thorin said later. He couldn't help but notice that his cousin chose his words with care as if the wrong ones would reveal too much. No doubt they would and Dwalin itched to know more, but all in good time.

"She wasted no time claiming her share of the treasure, you must see that!"

"No, Fíli, she did not. She offered her help but she asked for nothing in return; nothing at all. I want her to be taken care of, should anything happen to me."

"Nothing's going to happen to you, uncle," Kíli declared, "we won't allow it. We'd lay down our lives for you." Thorin scowled fiercely, but said nothing.

"Are you courting her?"

"Aye."

"Wouldn't that mean she would be rich in any case? As your wife?" Why was Fíli belaboring the point? Dwalin suspected his brother filled the youngster's mind with much drivel and poisoned it against reason.

"She did not accept me yet, we are still far from the day I would ask. And it is not certain that she shall."

"What woman would dare refuse you, uncle?!"

"She would, no doubt, if she found me wanting. Enough of this nonsense. She is coming along because I need her help - we need her help, and that is all you need to know."

Two times now Thorin had made the same mistake.

"You should not listen so much to my brother, Fíli, he's hardly one to know what women seek. Now you two leave us, I've business with your uncle." When they were far enough he wasted no time. "If I would pledge myself to take care of her should anything happen to you, would that be enough?"

"Nay." He didn't even need to think before he answered.

"You said you needed her help."

"Aye."

"In her nightmares, something happens to you and maybe your sister-sons. She weeps for you."

"Aye," Thorin whispered. Dwalin had never seen him look so defeated.

What, he wondered, what could a woman like her, one not a fighter by any measure, what could she do to keep Thorin alive?

He had to trust that she and Thorin had a plan. He would certainly do his part, for better or worse, but if the first blow fell him, who then would take the next one?

/-