Chapter 5

The next morning I got everyone moving early. But some people were even earlier than me—Var had been up long enough to have inspected and re-packed all of the caravan's goods. She was now wearing a practical traveling outfit of leather and wool, meant for a male dwarf but not inappropriate under the circumstances. I was glad to see that the men's clothing concealed her distinctly feminine curves. Her hair was still loose, though, and she was still in bedroom slippers. She couldn't walk the distances we would be covering in those flimsy things, so we'd have to put her on one of the mules.

She didn't look at me or talk to me at all that morning, just stalked around with her nose in the air, issuing orders to Bofur and Bombur. She even communicated with Bifur through a few hand gestures. Just as well, really, because I was too busy to talk to her.

I'd just discussed the matter of putting Var on a mule with Riki when Bofur alerted us that a rider was approaching. It was a gray haired dwarf on a pony. The rider "tch"ed in an irritated way when he saw the churned-up grass on the caravan route, and came around to where we had camped.

I stepped out to meet him. "What do you want?"

He was a fussy-looking fellow, with his hair all braided up and his beard stuffed neatly into a silver beard-cone. His fancy clothes were all arranged just so, and he brushed some dirt off his coat before launching into his tirade.

He shook his finger at me. "You know exactly what I want! I don't know who you are or what lies you've told, but I'll have you know that you can't fool me as easily as you fooled him! Caravan driver, pah! You look like the biggest scoundrel in Dunland. But I'm warning you, if you don't bring my brother Ori out here right away, I'll give you more trouble than you bargained for, and that's a promise you can rely on."

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now I'd be able to get the youngster off my hands. Not that he was a problem, really, but he was far too young and inexperienced to be out on his own. Nori's supervision of his younger brother was erratic, to say the least. He was happy to teach the lad how to pick a pocket or disassemble a lock, but when it came to life skills he hadn't a clue. In contrast, this brother seemed to be sensible enough. More importantly, he wanted Ori back.

"Ori!" I yelled over my shoulder.

The lad stormed forward, red-faced with anger. "Leave me alone, Dori! I'm not going home. I don't have to listen to you anymore. I'm going to Bree with Nori, and that's flat."

"With Nori?" said Dori his voice lifting to a high squeak. He looked about ready to fall off his pony in surprise.

The brother in question materialized beside Ori. He always seemed to move quietly and quickly. Nori said, "Not my fault. Nothing to do with it. Never expected—"

"Yes! I'm going to see the world," Ori said. "And I don't need you fussing over me, Dori, so you can just go home."

Dori's face sagged in disbelief and dismay. I felt bad for him. For both of them. I'd seen that exact same look on my brother Balin's face, the day I enlisted. Not that I would have changed my mind and chosen to live the life my older brother had picked out for me, but it hadn't been a pleasant moment.

"Well, now that the glad cries of welcome have been exchanged, let's all get off the road," I said, and walked back to the remains of the campfire without waiting to see if they would follow.

Var was talking to Riki next to the mule he'd assigned to her. As I walked by, she looked up and frowned at me. "Now what?"

"Ori's older brother just showed up to take him home," I said. "Dori's his name."

Her eyes widened. "Ori's leaving us?"

"They're still discussing it, but yes, if the lad has any sense he'll go home."

"And you're just letting him go? How could you? Oh…" She gave a little growl of exasperation and took off toward the three brothers, who had come around to our campsite.

"It's the only sensible way," I called after her, then turned to look at Riki. "Right?"

He shrugged. "Let the lady handle it."

"This is turning out to be the damnedest mess I've ever been involved in." And although this episode may not have been the absolute worst mess of my entire life, it's certainly up there in the top ten.

Suffice it to say that the makeshift caravan gained another dwarf that day. It was all Var's doing—somehow she convinced Ori that he ought to stay with us instead of going home like a good little boy, and at the same time she sweet-talked Dori into coming along to Bree and investigating potential business opportunities in the North.

At least we made good distance that day, and had no trouble along the road. We set up camp in Eriador that night, in a nice clearing that lay somewhat off the road. There was a clear, cold stream close by, hidden from the clearing by some bushes that were leafing out nicely as the springtime weather became milder. It looked as if we'd reach Bree the next day, or the day after at the latest.

Var and Dori got on like a house afire, exchanging recipes or whatever it was they talked about. He even braided her hair for her, putting her golden tresses up in a fancy style similar to the one he wore himself. It made her look a bit more masculine, but no amount of clothes or hairstyles could fool anyone into thinking her a male dwarf. The way she walked, the way she tilted her head, the little curl in the corner of her mouth when she was smiling but didn't want it to show… everything about her was feminine.

And she was bossy as hell. She'd slipped almost unconsciously into a leadership role, ordering the men around and seeing to it they did the work that needed to be done. And they followed her orders, too. Of course, it was very likely they were used to being ordered around by the female head of their clan.

Not many people know this, but that's the way it is among dwarves. There are many more men than women, and it just so happens that the women tend to run the households and the clans, while the men go out mining or fighting or whatever they happen to do. Some women are merchants too, like Aunt Nott, but mostly they stay home and order the men to do all the traveling and buying and selling. Women dwarves own the property, make the rules, and generally keep track of the wealth that male dwarves collect. It works for us.

So it seemed that Var was used to running things. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but we needed to get a few things straightened out. After all, it was my operation.

"Where's Var?" I asked Zigur, who was tending the campfire. Bifur came up, holding some of the fish he'd evidently caught in the stream.

"Ah, supper," Zigur said, looking pleased about the fish. Bifur grunted something, and Zigur nodded before glancing at me. "Var? Don't know."

I wandered off to look for her. Ori, Dori and Nori were sitting together arguing about something, and Bombur and Bofur were sitting patiently on the stream bank fishing.

I hunkered down beside them.

"Var? Haven't seen her since we started fishing," Bofur said. "Lovely lady. It's an honor to travel with her. Quite an important person, I'll wager."

"Probably."

"Wonder if she's married?"

"I don't know."

"Not that she'd be interested in the likes of me, of course." Bofur smiled cheerfully.

"I doubt it."

"Or you either, right?" He stuck an elbow in my direction.

I shook my head. "Don't know."

"Not refined enough, are we?"

"No."

"Ladies don't go for rough miners, or beat-up old soldiers, you know?"

"Hmmmm." I straightened up.

"They like young ones who don't have scars or chunks missing out of their ears, or—"

It seemed like a good idea to leave before I did anything I might regret. I brushed off my hands. "Good luck with the fish."

I wandered farther down the stream bank. Tiny white flowers nodded along its mossy borders, and trees stretched their roots out along the edges, trapping the bigger rocks and making the flowing water curl around them in pretty silver ribbons.

Var was bathing just behind one of those curves. I'd like to say that I did the gentlemanly thing, and averted my eyes the moment I caught a glimpse of her. It would have been the sensible thing to do, too, considering Bofur's comments of just a few minutes before. She would never be interested in me, so the less I saw of what I could never have, the better.

What can I say? I must like torturing myself.

She was standing ankle deep in the water. I stared at her, drinking in every beautiful naked bit of her. The world faded around me. An army could have marched by—anything could have happened, and I wouldn't have noticed. I don't know how long I gazed at her. Long enough that even now, so many years later, I can shut my eyes and see her just as she was then, delicate pink tipped with rose red, and crowned with gold.

Then a twig snapped somewhere on the other side of the stream and she crouched down suddenly, looking for an intruder. I came to my senses and drew back behind the tree. No sounds followed.

Now that I had my wits about me again, I stomped my feet a few times as I stood behind the tree, and then called her name. "Var? We need to talk."

I heard a gasp, and then a splash. She was probably running to her clothes. "Just a minute."

"Take your time." I stared up at the leafy green canopy overhead, listening to the forest around me to tell if we were the only people within earshot. All I could hear were natural sounds. Things that belonged.

"How long have you been standing over there?" Her voice sounded a little shrill. Annoyed or nervous? Maybe both.

"Not long. I wanted to talk to you without the others listening in. I didn't know—I didn't expect—" My ears started burning, so I shut my mouth before it got me into any more trouble. Mahal, what else would she be doing, in the water this far from camp? Of course she'd been taking a bath. I wiped my hand over my face as I leaned back against the tree.

She grumbled something I didn't hear.

"What was that?" I called. My eyes were fixed on the leaves overhead, as a kind of penance.

Her voice sounded close beside me. "I said, what else would I be doing?" She was standing with one hand braced against the tree, and the other hand fisted on her hip. The masculine clothes covered up her glorious body. It took a lot of willpower not to think about where certain parts of her anatomy might be found under the layers of fabric.

My eyes were watering with the effort of keeping them on her face. I glared at her. "We need to discuss the chain of command within the group, and while I appreciate your help this is still my operation."

She crossed her arms. "What did you have in mind?"

I explained the plan I'd worked out. While I was happy to have someone to help manage our bivouacs each night, what would happen if our little caravan was attacked? We needed to have some plan in place. She offered some suggestions, and we came to an agreement. It had gone more easily than I expected, and we headed back.

Before we reached the camp, she laid one hand on my arm and looked up into my eyes. "So, Dwalin, did you like what you saw?"

My face heated up again, but I didn't let my gaze fall from hers. "It was an accident." I couldn't think of what else to say, even though the words crowded up behind my lips—yes; I'm sorry; I want you; I know I can't have you; don't be mad.

She stared at me for several long moments, her hand resting lightly on my forearm. Then she let her hand drop, and walked back to the camp.