Thanks for the support!

Okay, so, I thought I was kinda strong, you know? The draw weight on my bow at home was sixty-five pounds, and I could shoot for a couple of hours before my arms got tired. Turns out that's noy even close to what's needed for wielding swords, even freakishly light Elven short swords. And don't get me started on the longbow. The draw had to be at least eighty. I could only shoot for twenty minutes before my aim went totally wonky and it felt like my arms would fall off. At least my legs and core kind of survived, but I had the sneaking suspicion that would change once I was fully healed. Especially since what I said about Gandalf and Bilbo seemed to have pissed him off; the dwarf didn't say more than one word directives the entirety of the two hours we were out there. Even when he sat me down and taught me how to handle the straps and belts my weapons hung in, once I could do it by myself he instructed me to practice, then just left.

I looked at his retreating back, then shrugged. "Thanks."

Either he didn't hear me, or didn't feel like responding. Jittery in spite of my sore arms, I decided to go for a run before practicing taking the straps on and off. The yard had a small dirt track, more of a path really, leading out of it, and I figured it was probably for running. After all, running was a commonality of training everywhere. If not, well, it was now. I grinned to myself, then began to stretch. I never ran without stretching, once I found out I was less sore if I stretched both before and after.

"What are you doing?"

I glanced up, to find Bilbo regarding me with a face that made me cascade into giggles.

"I'm stretching Bilbo, warming up my muscles. It'll help prevent an injury like a pulled muscle, and also will make it so I'm less sore tomorrow. Actually, it'll also help me be more agile, because it improves flexibility. Just, it's a good thing to do during training, that all."

He just sort of nodded, still skeptical, and I shrugged.

"Are you here to train?"

"Yes, um, Fili and Kili offered?" He gestured behind himself, and I saw the two boys having some sort of lively discussion. Lots of arm waving. I laughed.

"I see. Come here, let me show you some warm-ups and stretches you can do before you train to help your body out."

"Uh, I think I'm fine, thank you?" He took a step back, and glanced at the boys again.

"No, you should really warm-up and stretch before you train, I promise you'll be less sore tomorrow, and you're less likely to injure yourself. Especially considering your body isn't used to this kind of abuse." He still looked dubious. "We'll keep it pretty easy and simple, yeah? Come on Bilbo."

He sighed and deflated a bit. "Very well."

"Great!" I clapped my hands together. "First, we have to get your muscles warm and supple, to make the stretching most effective. The best way to do that is go for a bit of a jog, so we'll just run a couple of laps around the training yard."

Poor hobbit looked horrified, but I chivvied him off before he could back out. We didn't go very quick, what my soccer coach all the way back in middle school liked to call a "talking pace" because I was able to keep up a litany of encouraging remarks. About halfway through the first lap, the boys joined us, and I had to explain all over again what we were up to.

"Wait, why didn't we know this, why didn't Uncle teach us this?" Kili burst out, nearly tripping as he turned to his brother, who just shrugged and looked at me.

I also shrugged, "I can only assume that people here don't know about it because it was part of physiotherapy, which wasn't really an area of medicine until we knew a lot more about anatomy, which didn't happen until later, when we had better technology and medical cadavers were a thing. In other words, it's part of medicine that you guys don't have, because we invented all sorts of technologies to do the work of magic, because we don't have magic."

"...I have all sorts of questions." Bilbo deadpanned, and we all laughed.

"Sorry, yeah, that wasn't the best explanation. Ask away."

"What is a cadaver?" Go Bilbo the scholar and remembering weird new words!

"Uh, it's actually a dead body donated to study. The person decides while they're alive that that's what they want, don't worry."

All three of them actually stopped, and I ended up a little ways ahead of them and had to turn around. They all looked horrified.

"Look, I know it sounds really terrible to you guys, but think of it this way, it's done very respectfully, and if people didn't donate their bodies like that, we wouldn't have the medicine we need to save lives. We went from an average life span of thirty to an average lifespan of ninety because we learned how to better treat all sorts of sicknesses and injuries by better understanding our bodies and how they work. We are still discovering things. The brain is just so complicated, really the whole body is." They still looked rather dubious, but less horrified. "Come on, let's keep going while you ask your other questions."

"Only thirty years?" Fili's voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I just nodded. No need to go into the child death rate and differences in rich and poor life expectancy.

They were quiet for a moment.

Kili's brows drew together, and he pursed his lips, "What is fizther- fizother-"

"Physiotherapy. It's a branch of medicine that deals with movement and recovery. So, for instance, when you sprain an ankle, when you come of crutches and out of a brace those muscles are weaker, and your ligament is tight from healing, a physical therapist, someone who studied physiotherapy, will work with you on certain exercises and massages to help you get function of that joint back to full function. They can do that for any injury, or pain that crops up with age or hard use, or even medical conditions people are born with. I've done years of physical therapy for various injuries and things, and it's actually where I learned the importance of stretching and warming up."

I let them process that for a moment, noting that we were almost done with our second lap.

"There isn't magic in my world, so we were forced to figure out a different answer. Alrighty, now that we're all warmed up, let's stretch, then you guys can do your training while I go for a run."

"But you just ran with us?" Bilbo frowned up at me.

"Oh, that was just a warm-up jog, I'm hoping to get at least a couple of miles in, but we'll see. I'll probably just run until I'm satisfied."

Fili and Kili exchanged a look.

"No, you can't come with me and make this into a competition, you promised to train Bilbo. Now, we have to stretch."

They pouted, but were remarkably cooperative when I moved straight to directing them through a variety of stationary and moving stretches. The dwarves were, of course, not very flexible, and Bilbo was little better, but they were all good sports about it and we made it through what was supposed to be a fifteen minute routine in closer to what had to be thirty due to bouts of laughter. Then I left the boys to their own devices and took off into the woods.

The path turned out to be a circuitous route through the woods on either side of the Bruinen, and reminded me of cross-country meets in grade school. We got to run meets in a national park sometimes. This path had perfect weather all the time though, no running in the rain and mist the way I did as a kid. The sections directly along the banks were my favorites, the water murmured soothingly against the rocks, and misted up to cool and freshen the air. There was even a bridge across, a narrow, railing-free number typical of elves that I definitely sprinted across without looking down.

By the time I got back to the training yard, it was nearly dusk and the boys were gone. Bilbo was sitting under a tree near the opening of the path, and glanced up as I arrived. I'd walked the last half mile or so, giving myself time to cool down. He smiled, and made as if to get up, but I waved him to stay.

"How did training go? I hope you stretched again after? I'm just going to stretch now if you want to stay and chat?"

He nodded, and settled back against his tree as I began some stretching.

"Yes, we stretched again after, though I must say I am a little doubtful we did it right."

I paused to shrug, "It doesn't matter too much, so long as you didn't hurt yourselves. It just won't help quite as much. No biggie. I can help you more in the coming days, I get the feeling Thorin will have me out here every day until we leave."

He regarded me silently for a moment, head tilted.

"How did you know what Gandalf said to me?"

Oof. Damn observant hobbits.

"That, is a very good question," I eyed him critically, "One I'm not positive I should answer yet." Bilbo was a very different character in the books and the movies, and seemed different from both here. He was closer to the rotund figure detailed in the books (which reminds me, need to tell the dwarves they're starving their hobbit. Seriously, the little buggers needed way more calories than you get from two travel meals a day), and seemed to be missing some of the slightly toxic cluelessness from the movies. I still wasn't sure I could trust him to perform under pressure yet, that didn't really happen until Mirkwood in the books, and after the Goblin tunnels in the movie. However, I also didn't want to just exclude him the way the dwarves did…

"I'll tell you what, Bilbo. I don't think I can tell you how I know things yet, but I can say this: don't regret coming. Even without me pointing out all Gandalf's meddling, they would have accepted you. Hopefully now it'll just happen a bit sooner. You're a very brave hobbit and they will have to realize that at some point. Hopefully what I said will just help them realize they're judging you as if you were a dwarf, and not a hobbit. Which reminds me," I paused to eye hkm sternly, "Have you been getting enough to eat in the road? I know hobbits eat a lot, but what I don't know is how much you need to eat to be healthy. I can't imagine shifting from seven meals a day to two meals a day is healthy though, regardless."

The poor hobbit spluttered at me, then drew himself up, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. He opened his mouth again, then a third time, before deflating. "I've been trying to make up for it with foraging and snacking?"

I sighed and shook my head. "I may as well inform Thorin tonight, considering he is already pissed at me, Mahal only knows why."

Bilbo flushed and looked down "Probably because you insulted their treatment of me. I'm sorry."

"Nonsense! I mean, you're probably right, but there is absolutely no reason why you should be apologizing. You didn't ask to be starved and belittled, nor did you ask me to speak up. Therefore, you apologizing is nonsense. Now," I finished stretching with a last, satisfying reach up that cracked my back. "I have a dwarf king to try and reconcile with, perhaps over dinner."

"What's this about a starving hobbit?"

I didn't jump. I didn't.

Bofur and Bifur must have come up behind us, because the hatted dwarf was frowning fiercely. Which, weird; I'd never seen him not smiling.

"Hobbits usually eat seven full meals a day, Master Bofur, and our hobbit has been getting two smaller ones per day since your journey started. Haven't you noticed him losing weight? Hobbits are supposed to be more rotund creatures, which I'm sure he was when you met him, and now he's nearly slim."

Bufor turned on Bilbo, "Why didn't you say anything lad?"

Bilbo stuttered and gestured helplessly, so I stepped in. "How well do you think that would have gone over, Bofur? The majority of the company was already after him about having difficulty adjusting to travelling, and not knowing how to fight."

The dwarf heaved a sigh, and walked over to pat Bilbo's shoulder. "I'm sorry laddie."

We stood in silence for a moment.

"You know," I broke in, "Bilbo is considered middle aged, which I believe you are as well, Bofur? Just because he's a bit naive about the world outside the Shire doesn't mean he's young. Or stupid. The Baggins' are one of the most influential families in the Shire, if I'm not mistaken, and he's head of that family. And is grandfather is the Thain."

"The Thain?"

"Yep. Hobbits don't have kings, they have a diplomatic leader they call the Thain that is loosely in charge of security of the Shire, and settling disputes. He handles the bits and bobs of the everyday running of the region, infrastructure and the like." I delivered that bombshell with just the proper amount of nonchalance, then stepped back to watch the drama unfold.

There was a moment for Bofur to process, then, "Mahal! Yer a prince?"

"No, no, no!" Bilbo hopped to his feet, hands waving, "Hobbits don't have kings or princes or any of that- that- that royalty nonsense."

"But your Grandfather is Thain." I contributed with a shrug.

"Mahal," Bofur murmured to himself, then chuckled, "That certainly complicates things."

I shrugged, "Only insomuch as the potential diplomatic outfalling if Thain Took discovers how you've all treated his beloved late daughter's only son. Then again, poor Bilbo has almost definitely lost a great deal of his standing socially just agreeing to come with you, so upset as the Thain may be if he finds out, he might not be able to actually do anything about it."

I caught sight of Bilbo making frantic gestures at me, and decided to give the poor hobbit a break. "But enough of that, I do believe it's time to locate some dinner!"

Bofur gave me the, we're talking about this later eyes (or I mean, I think he did. I still don't really know the dude), but went with the change in subject.

"Past time I'd say, lass. Our hobbit has catching up to do!"

Bless his smelly, furry, hatted soul.

Bilbo blushed fiercely, but we were off to dinner, Bufor drilling him about his favorite dishes and encouraging him to exchange recipes with Bombur. After all, if there were anything that might make the shy dwarf open up, it was food.

That made me smile. I always liked the thought of Bilbo and Bombur bonding over food.

Dinner, it turns out, was with Lord Elrond on the balcony again. Which, unfortunately, reminded me that the first dinner with Lord Elrond was a bit of a disaster, and I was too unconscious to prevent it.

As we walked out onto the balcony, I leaned down to whisper at Bilbo, "Dinner last night, how did it go?"

He made a bit of a face and shrugged, then made the so-so gesture, but didn't say anything.

"What's that supposed to mean? Was there proper food for dwarrow? Did they behave themselves? Did dinner devolve into petty insults and grumbling?"

He winced, "I don't think the dwarves appreciated the vegetarian fare or the soothing classical music, and I don't think the elves appreciated the rowdy pub song and thrown food, but there were no insults exchanged."

I sighed. Whelp.

"We'll see what can be done about that tonight."

Bilbo was gestured up to the head table with Thorin, Balin, Gandalf, Lord Elrond, and what must have been Elrohir, Elladan, Erestor, Lindir, and Gandalf, but I didn't look too closely. Before I could be gestured to join them, I glanced at the table where the rest of the dwarrow were seated. Sure enough, the food was mostly a variety of salads and other vegetables, with some stew and an unidentifiable saute, but I didn't see any meat and couldn't smell any either.

Well damn. How does one diplomatically berate an Elf Lord in public?

I made my way up to said Elf Lord, and just opted for being quiet.

"Lord Elrond, may I ask why your guests have been served food that is insufficient for their needs? Dwarrow are not elves, and I cannot imagine you are not aware of this. Their bodies cannot run on vegetarian fare. For that matter, neither can mine. It could, if properly done, but at present my system is used to, and therefore reliant on, a more mixed fare."

Elrond frowned, and glanced at the lower table, "Do you mean to tell me that the other table is lacking in meat dishes?"

I looked at his table, and sure enough there were a couple of roast fowl, and some sort of potato dish that looked like it had meat in it.

"Lacking in meat and any heavy carbs, Lord Elrond."

His frown deepened, then he sighed and stood, turning to the rest of the room. There was an elf I hadn't noticed before standing near the door, and he gestured that elf forward.

"What is the meaning of this? Why have my kitchens decided to disrespect my guests? Do they hold such little respect for me?"

The elf stuttered and blushed, and I had to resist the urge to gape. They could lose their composure.

Lord Elrond didn't wait for him to recover. "This shall be remedied immediately, and an apology issued."

"Yes, My Lord." He sketched a quick bow, and fled. Presumably to the kitchens.

"Thank you, Lady Aria, for bringing that to my attention. Please do let me know if that, or anything else similar, happens again. It appears prejudice is more rife than I had assumed, or hoped for. My apologies, Thorin Oakenshield."

He gave a little nod/bow thing, elf-style, then sat back down.

"Uh, the whole 'Lady' thing really isn't necessary, Lord Elrond, I'm nobody important." I'd kind of been waiting for an opportunity to say that, and awkward brain decided now was that opportunity. Why is this my life?

Freaking elf lord just sort of tilted his head, and gestured for me to sit. Next to Thorin. I wanted to bang my head on the table. Couldn't he see Mr. Dark and Broody currently didn't have very charitable thoughts toward me?

Here goes nothing...