AN: This may have been the longest time between chapters? I've been having a block with this story, but I think I'm trudging through alright. Bloody hell, I hope everyone's in character... *crosses fingers*

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter—I was a bit iffy on what to do next but I managed to tie this together somewhat coherently. All of your support helped fuel writing this.

Cheers!

To Jo: Haha, good to know. Hope this does the trick!

PS: It's not much of a spoiler but one Dwarf in this chapter, Lóni, is actually from canon. He was said to go to Moria with Balin. but I didn't find much else on him so I elaborated on his personality/occupation/ ect. Yay, useless knowledge!

Chapter XV

Bored and Bedridden

By the time we reached the room we had first fallen into, there was already a type of pulley system set up to help bring people to and from the surface. The miners present gave a cheer when we entered—they had been looking for us in the rubble while some other very eager Dwarves had already started excavating, as inconspicuously as possible. Two Dwarves volunteered to pull us up, commenting that we looked half dead. They were right too—Fili was covered in the most blood, Kili and Gimli were battered pretty badly and I could hardly manage a zombie gait without leaning heavily on the reluctant brunette who, I'm sure, had only offered to be my crutch because his brother kept shooting him telepathic thoughts.

Before we could even step foot off the makeshift lift, a very livid Gloin intercepted us and pulled Gimli away by the ear with much protesting from the latter.

"Ow, what's that for?"

"Running off like that, what were you thinking? I was worried sick, boy!" we heard Gloin growl.

"But—but, Da, you haven't heard yet the tale! I've just faced a troll!"

Gloin snorted. "Oh ho, just wait till you face your mother! You'll wish you were back with a troll!"

The three of us held back, not wanting to get in the line of fire.

"Shouldn't we say something?" I whispered, looking at the retreating gingers, guiltily.

"Er, no," Fili drawled, eying them as well. "Better to leave them settle it on their own."

"Besides, Gimli had been the one urging us on," said Kili. "The whole ordeal could've been avoided if he'd have just listened to us."

Fili and I stopped to give him a look.

"What?" the brunette demanded. "What have I said?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, nothing. I only remember a certain prince egging us on before Gimli did."

Kili's eyes widened. "Me? You think this was my fault?"

Before I could retort, Fili cut in. "It matters not who first suggested it, although, yes, it was you, Kili. I should not have given in so quickly. If anyone, I am to blame... We should not have lied to Uncle," Fili murmured, looking completely dejected. "He was right. We behaved recklessly and put others in danger by exploring and trying to take on troll ourselves."

"But we did manage," Kili offered with a smile, "That's all that counts!"

Fili shook his head. "Had Emily not come to our aid, our chances of seeing the Quest would have been naught, assuming they are not still..."

Although, I totally agreed with Fili on the part that we have been stupid in wandering around , I felt bad that he looked so miserable and was taking the hit personally. "Hey, cheer up," I said, nudging the blonde in the arm. "Alright, we messed up, but look on the bright side— no one got hurt, aside from us. Plus, we can learn from our mistakes—don't listen to Kili."

"Hey!"

The elder prince hardly smiled at my jab. "I've let Uncle down. Perhaps, I do not have a right to the Quest, or…" To be heir, I thought he'd finish.

I sighed and even Kili dropped his glare at me to look at his brother sympathetically. "Fili, you aren't to blame. Uncle's always favored you; I'm sure he will not hold this against you—Miss Emily, perhaps—but not you. Surely, he will allow our accompaniment."

Fili pursed his lips in thought.

I resisted socking Kili and focused on our depressed blonde. I grabbed his sleeve and stopped him from walking. "Look. You're a capable warrior and clever to boot. Are you forgetting how much ass you kicked back there?! You'll redeem yourself in Thorin's eyes, if you haven't already. He was only hard on you because he cares so much—isn't it obvious? This Quest is as much yours as anyone's… It's your destiny."

Fili raised his brows, now looking somewhat amused. "You know, you're very inspirational, Emily. You could lead an army to war over a fallen biscuit, I'd imagine," Fili teased, a slight smirk on his lips.

I laughed. "And it shall be called The Battle of the Biscuit!"

Kili groaned loudly.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked.

The brunette frowned, "I'm starving, is all," he said, earning a groan from me and an exasperated sigh from his brother. "What?"

When we reached the medical ward, we were immediately met by a small mob of healers. I was herded away from the princes and into a section that I realized was for women, or, well, Dwarf-maids. I was expecting to see the healer from before—oh, what was her name again? Mora? Morwena? Instead I was landed with another Dwarf—he was blonde with every inch of his hair braided up and out of the way, even his beard which was in several plaits and tied under his chin.

"Oh, sweet beards of our fathers!" he gasped at seeing me. "What has happened to you, child? Is it disease? Is it… contagious?" He took a step back, worriedly.

"I—it's not my hair!" I growled, realizing his concern. "My knee's messed up, is all. And my hand too." I wasn't about to mention my bruised ribs.

"You are quite sure?"

"Yes!"

The healer visibly relaxed. "Thank Mahal. Well, best bathe you first and get you into clean linens second; can't have you dirtying the bed. Just changed this morning…"

He shuffled off and returned with a pale green robe over his shoulder and a basin of water. "A children's tunic will have to do," he sighed. "Will you need assistance washing?"

Had it not been for his somewhat reluctant expression, I'd have thought him a perv. "Er, no… thanks. I can manage myself."

"Do not take too long. Those wounds should be dressed quickly," the healer told me, walking away. He paused and turned back, "I am Lóni, you should know. I will be tending to you whilst here."

As it turns out, Lóni was a bit of a control freak, or at least, he took his job incredibly seriously. I was absolutely refused visitors until he deemed me ready. And Fili too, I assume, as Kili was rushed out pretty quickly. Fili was forced to remain in the men's section and although I could hear his voice, I was discouraged to shout back and forth with him. I got so far as a "How's it hanging?" before being shushed. He was staying overnight, or longer, like me. I wasn't sure why I had to stay in bed, as my injuries were more of an annoyance than life-threatening, but Lóni was very adamant that I remain under observation. He was so rule book anal, I'd have thought he wrote them himself. Lóni actually pulled out a stone tablet to check the procedures for treating open wounds at least five times while trying to heal me. I had a feeling he was going overboard—maybe, he didn't get enough patients to satisfy his doctor-lust.

My knee and hand were cleaned, oinmented, and wrapped in gauze and a soft leather bandage which prevented movement that could disrupt the healing process. Also, Morumma (I was close) made a brief appearance and told Lóni of my bruises—he seemed very disappointed and almost hurt that I hadn't mentioned them before then meant a few hours fretting and fussing over which salves to use.

I was also prescribed three tonics to drink; I liked to snigger to myself, pretending that they were Wolfsbane or Skele-Gro or some other Harry Potter potion. Now that I think of it, Lóni could totally pass as a Madam Pomfrey—always bustling and fussing about. The first tonic, which I was told and forced to drink twice a day, once at noon and again around evening, was a sleeping remedy. Another was for pain that I took three to four times, depending on the need for it. And the last, I took once in the morning to build stamina and energy to heal. They were all pretty foul tasting and made me wish I had never stuck my nose up at the artificial cherry medicine back home.

"Well, what do you expect? Pumpkin juice?"

I was a little disappointed Lóni hadnt said the line the first time I gagged.

I hadn't heard a sign of Gimli and figured he was being treated at home. His uncle, Oin, was a healer, after all. That and I had a sneaking suspicion that the ginger was very grounded and not allowed to associate with me at least, since a prejudice wouldn't be held against family, let alone royalty.

It seemed that Fili got a similar treatment as me, and Kili too, to a minor degree— he came back later since he needed to have his hand fixed up.

My only indication of their presence was when I heard Fili hiss in pain.

"Oh, it hardly stings," Kili had laughed at him. "Brother, don't be such a Dwarfling—yow!"

"It hardly stings," mocked Fili, a smirk present in his voice.

And that was it. I hadn't been able to hear much from the men's section since. I assume the sleeping tonics had something to do with it.

The lanterns were spent, having been extinguished many hours ago, leaving the med-ward in the dark. I was lying on my back, drowsy from the medicine but unable to fall into a deep sleep. I had dozed off a few times, only to be jolted awake by some unseen force, my heart pounding and a sheen of perspiration across my body. I think it may have been a side effect of the medicine. Mental note: ask Lóni. Regardless, it was awful. As if I had woken up from a nightmare, expecting it to be here in waking life… only I hadn't had a nightmare. At least I didn't think I did. I couldn't remember even dreaming—I don't think I had even reached a REM mode. Each time made me dread falling asleep even more, yet at the same time, I wanted this dull lapse of hours to be over with.

I groaned, wishing the sun would rise already. I had always had trouble sleeping in strange places—'strange' being not in my bed at home. In the long months I had been in Middle Earth, that particular idiosyncrasy had mostly left me but, unfortunately, it had been replaced with another… I now had trouble sleeping alone. I had had Thrain for the longest time as a source of security and even after he was taken away, his presence was filled by Gandalf and Thorin. Granted, the three of us weren't cuddling and singing ourselves to sleep each night, but… just knowing that someone was there… it was more than a comfort, more than wanting a teddy bear. It was… a need. A need to be reminded that I wasn't alone, that no matter how afraid and depressed I became, someone was going to be there. I felt safe, even if I wasn't.

With a sigh, I used my bandaged hand to brush the fringe off my forehead. I considered many times going over to the men's section and collapsing in one of the beds near Fili. But I didn't, of course, knowing that it'd be inappropriate, and probably creepy. I could hear his soft snoring but it wasn't enough to set me at ease.

For the rest of the night and early morning, I repeated my torturous cycle of almost asleep and almost awake. There were no windows as we were deep within the mountain so I wasn't sure when first light came until the sounds of footsteps across the men's ward were heard. Lóni was muttering to himself as he walked, ticking off his mental checklist of things to do. I lay in bed, eyes closed, and feigning sleep, just to put off having to take my morning tonic. But I soon grew bored and restless and couldn't keep my eyes shut. Better get this over with.

Things were mundane as usual and I only managed a shouted interchange of 'good morning's' with Fili. It wasn't until after lunch (stew and rolls) that I got a visitor and actually had a proper conversation with someone, that didn't involve trying to coerce me into giving a stool sample.

"Gandalf!"

I nearly jumped out of bed, I was so excited. Was he rescuing me?

"Did you sign the release papers yet? Am I free to go?"

The Wizard furrowed his brows as he sat on the edge of the bed. "No, not quite. Your healer says you should remain off your feet for a few days more."

"A few days?!"

"Yes, and I quite agree. We cannot have you baring an injury whilst crossing Middle Earth." He lowered his voice and leaned in. "The Lonely Mountain, I'll have you know, is more than a simple walk away."

The thought of the Quest made me perk up. "About that…"

Gandalf raised a bushy brow in question.

"When exactly is the Quest going to start?"

"Within the month, at least. There are still some matters Lord Thorin and I have yet to agree on, namely the size of our party. It seems the King Under the Mountain would prefer a large army whereas I think it wiser to have a smaller, more inconspicuous group. Until I convince him otherwise, we shall remain here," Gandalf paused. "That being said, I suspect you will have plenty of time to heal. I have a feeling you will be just fine when it comes time to depart the Blue Mountains."

I bit my lip at the thought of the Dwarf-king. It had been bothering me for the longest time…

"Is… Is Thorin mad at me?" I asked in a small voice.

Gandalf shut his eyes briefly. Well, that's a 'yes'! I groaned.

"He is very disappointed above anything else; although I do not believe he blames you for what happened in Silver Deep. You may have foolishly admitted guilt where none exists yet, I think, it is very possible that Lord Thorin saw through your deceit."

"So, he thinks I'm a dirty rotten liar, then? Great."

"Do stop jumping to conclusions, Emily! It's rather exhausting," huffed the Wizard. "Regardless of whether or not you were dishonest, the fact remains that you nearly saved his nephew's life."

"What…?" I breathed.

"I was informed through Thorin that Prince Fili's head injury may have led to disastrous consequences had it not been wrapped immediately. And was it not your bandages that saved him?"

I sank back into my pillow, feeling suddenly weighted.

Gandalf continued speaking. "Lord Thorin himself, and his sister, Lady Dís, had visited you the other day, I am aware. I hear you were heavily sedated."

"WHAT?"

The Wizard cringed at my voice and I saw Lóni peek around the corner, his eyes narrowed as if ready to shoo Gandalf away and perform another test on my hair—he was convinced that something was wrong with it.

"Thorin was here?" I gasped. "They were both here?"

"Of course they were," Gandalf replied as if it were obvious. "Prince Fili lies no more than a ward away, and here you are, his apparent savior. It seems only natural that they would wish to see you."

I sat there in silence, too stunned to utter words as I absorbed everything. Had I really saved Fili? Had his head really been that bad? And Thorin… Thorin came to see me...? Me.

Oh god! Had I been drooling in my sleep?!

"He feels beholden to you, Emily, more than before," Gandalf said softly, redirecting my thoughts.

I stared at my blankets. "But I don't want him to," I mumbled. "I didn't do any of that to try and win him over… I just…"

"Well, it may be in your best interests to stay in his good graces. When it comes time to discuss your involvement in certain matters, you will be thankful of any favor he has for you."

I sighed. Maybe Gandalf had a point. But still, I couldn't help but feel… guilty. Like I had tricked Thorin into… into tolerating me. I guess I was being stupid.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "Judging by the looks your healer is sending me, it seems I have overstayed my welcome."

"No, you just got here! Do you have to go?" I moaned.

"It is for the best, I imagine," he told me, standing up. Gandalf reached into the sleeve of his robes, pulled out a small bundle of cloth and handed it to me. "This may make your stay a bit more pleasant. Keep well, Emily, and… out of trouble."

I gave him a mock salute and a smile as he left. Super curious, I unwrapped the fabric and found that Gandalf had given me three little pies. I was probably more excited than I should have been over food, but I was always a sucker for sweets. They were still warm and I hoped that more to do with them being freshly baked rather than them being stowed up Gandalf's sleeve for while. I had to try one right away and I ate it without even pausing for breath. It was filled with purple-y berries that I wasn't able to name—I'd guess blackberries though I've never eaten one before. It was pretty good and probably stained my tongue purple.

I thought of Thrain all of a sudden and, then my stomach felt like lead.

I decided to save the other pies for later.

Boring. Mundane. Dismal. Unexciting. Dreary. Uninteresting. Dry. Dull.

You can imagine how the rest of the day went since Gandalf's sudden visit and departure. I had been so bored I was reduced to asking Lóni for a book to read to which he replied he had none written in the common tongue of Men. I wanted someone to bring one of my school books but wasn't sure if it would be such a good idea—if they happen to peek inside… well, you could guess the implications. I was nearly desperate enough to ask if Lóni would read to me, but thought it'd be too awkward. I was at the point where I just wanted to sleep through the day.

So I did. Or tried to anyway.

Like before, I found it increasingly difficult to fall asleep, even with the aid of a full stomach and sleep tonic. In an odd turn of events, I found myself meditating. I hadn't done it since… Well, after I left Dol Guldur, things were too hectic to keep up the habit. And also, it seemed pointless. When I lost Thrain, part of me felt like I had lost the war with Sauron. But, now, I don't think it had properly started, really.

I pictured the Christmas tree we had had this year. It was tall, pine green, and, for the first time in ten years, real—my parents had stuck to an artificial one since I had started eating the fallen needles when I was a toddler. The more I envisioned it, the clearer and easier it was to recall—the multicolored string of lights that spiraled around it, and the several that refused to light up, the way they made the silver tinsel shimmer and glare. I tried to remember all of the ornaments that hung from the branches, basic colored balls, tiny Santa Clauses, reindeer, candy canes, fake candles, golden horns, a pair of turtle doves, and the very old but still pretty angel that sat on the top (and fell off every other day). I could almost remember the strong smell of pine and the feel of the prickly needles as I—

A clatter on the far side of the room made me jolt out of my trance. There was someone hunched over a bed some ways down, searching through the sheets.

"Lóni?" I called, squinting at the figure.

The person turned sharply, saying something under his breath and then hurried over towards me, making me sit straight up in surprise at his speed. If possible, my eyes widened even more at seeing and recognizing him. His hair and beard were messy, giving him a Hagrid-y look. It had been quite dark, and the top half still was, but most of his beard had turned grey and stark white. The Dwarf's most startling feature- his wild eyes, a close second- was the axe embedded in his head.

"Er, hello," I said to Bifur, who replied with some rapid-fire Khuzdul.

I blinked. "Um, right… I'm Emily," I told him, motioning to myself. "Emily."

Bifur grunted and nodded his head a few times. I wasn't sure if he understood or not. So I decided to try a more Tarzan approach. I pointed to him and said in a firm voice, "Bifur."

He seemed to get excited at hearing his name.

Then I pointed to myself and said, "Emily… Bifur, Emily, Bifur."

With an exclamation that was sadly lost on me, Bifur gave his beard a few swift tugs then motioned for me to do the same. When I hesitated, he said something that I assume was encouragement so I figured, "What the hell", and did as he asked. I grabbed a braid and pulled it slightly which made him grin and start talking again.

"It's very nice beard," I told him, making sure to smile extra wide so as to get my feelings across if not my words.

Bifur nodded enthusiastically, pointing at my face. My hands found my cheeks. "Oh, right! I don't have one. I'm human," I told him. "Human, er… From the race of Men?"

Gee, I wish I had tried to learn Khuzdul instead of Quenya…

"Khagholel," he said suddenly, nodding to me.

"Sorry…?"

Bifur took a piece of my hair into his hand. "Khagholel," he repeated, stroking my hair as if it were an animal.

"Oh. Uh, well, thanks," I said, unsure of his intention. He continued on with the action, seeming totally enthralled by my hair. I smiled. "You might be one of the only people that actually likes my hair," I laughed.

After a moment longer, when he didn't show any signs of ceasing, I decided to change the subject away from my hair. I reached under my pillow and pulled out my bundle of pies. "Would you like one?" I asked, holding them out to him.

Bifur said something in reply and when I didn't retract my offer, he picked up a pie and ate it in one bite. Oh, I hope he hadn't felt obligated to eat one.

"I think it's blackberry," I said conversationally.

"Ah! Kulhu ma sakhizu ya izzûghizu!" he exclaimed, jumping up. Bifur pointed to the axe in his head then started miming swinging a weapon—I think he was reenacting how he got the injury. "Dush. Dush rukhsul!"

"O-oh," was my lame ass reply.

Bifur moved some of his hair away to show me his ear. It… was an ear. Uh. Bifur sighed and sat heavily on the bed, looking suddenly melancholy. I wasn't sure what he had been trying to tell me but I felt bad that I couldn't understand him.

"It's okay, Bifur," I said tentatively, patting him on the back.

He glanced at me and murmured something. I ruffled my fringe so that I looked like an idiot and said, "Kagolil?" Okay, I totally mispronounced the word. Whatever, but he seemed to get it.

Bifur grinned and started playing with my hair again. It seemed to comfort him a bit, or at least distract him.

Hurried footsteps drew my attention as a frantic Dwarf ran into the ward.

"There you are!" he cried to Bifur. "What are you doing? Get off her bed—she's clearly sick!"

For a second, I couldn't place him, even though his voice was recognizable. Ah ha! He wasn't wearing his trademark hat, that's why! He was clearly Bofur, now that I knew it, with his braided pigtails that stuck out at odd angles, and flippy mustache.

He ushered Bifur off the bed, turning to me apologetically. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss. I hope my cousin hasn't frightened you. We've been to the healers earlier today, to check up on his, er," he trailed off, tapping his head. "Well, he just ran off, is all, took awhile to find him again. My brother's off looking for him too, probably in the kitchens, most like. Really am sorry for all this."

"No, no. It's fine," I said loudly, trying to explain. "He was just keeping me company. Really, it's fine, Bofur."

"Are you—begging your pardon, Miss, but have we met?" Bofur asked slowly, probably now taking in the blueness of my hair and the bareness of my face. "I'm sure I'd have recalled."

"No, uh, but I was talking to Bifur here, and, yeah." Leave it up to me to blurt out things.

Bofur raised a brow. "Speaking to him? But he doesn't speak a word of Westron."

"I know…"

"Well, then how—"

"I'm good at charades."

We stared at each other for a long moment, before Bifur broke the silence. "Khagholel!" he told his cousin, shaking a piece of my hair.

"Yes, I can see that," Bofur nodded, stepping closer, probably ready to intervene.

I looked between the two. "What does that mean exactly? He's said it before."

Bofur finally grinned. "Oh, it means 'the bluest of blue'. Rather fitting I think."

I gave a short laugh. "I guess so."

"Now, stop petting the lass," Bofur chastised lightly. "She's not a goat. Good. Here, look at this." He pulled a small wooden toy out of his coat, handing it to Bifur who was immediately calmed, turning it over in his hands.

"Really do appreciate your understanding," Bofur said sincerely. "A lot of folk don't know what to make of him, the ladies in particular. Normally scream if he acts out or uh…" He trailed off, and cleared his throat. "Needless to say, we aren't very popular around here in the mountains."

"Like I said, it's fine. He wasn't bothering me," I said. "In fact, I'm really glad I met you both."

"Ah, well," drawled Bofur, scuffing his boot on the floor. "That's awful sweet to say, lass."

"Ozodl!"

We looked over to find Bifur rummaging through the sheets again, a few beds down from me. Bofur sighed, glancing back to me.

"He's been restless as of late…" Bofur went on, "Prefers more action than most. Sitting around only makes him anxious, see? Been prone to wander which, as I'm sure you can tell, leads to many a problem."

"Well… why don't you guys get out more?" I suggested slyly. "You know… take a trip, or a journey... or a, uh, quest."

Bofur laughed. "Oh, lass, quests don't just come around out of the blue, and even less would be willing to take on such misfits as us."

"You never know…"

Bofur tried to humor me, "I'll be sure to keep me ears open, that's for sure."

"Cool!"

"Actually, I thought it a bit warm in here…"

"Erm…"

Bofur scratched the back of his head. "Well! We'd best be off. Like I said, my brother's in the kitchens, unsupervised."

"Alright, well, I'll see you around. Bye, Bifur!"

Bifur bumped his fists together and I assume that was goodbye.

"Oh!"

Bofur came running back. "I never caught your name, Miss…?"

"It's just Emily."

He nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Justemily." And before I could correct him, Bofur looked away sharply and rushed off, shouting, "Bifur! Don't! That's a sleeping prince!"

I laughed as they left, my spirits remarkably higher than before. Their visit had been even more unexpected than Gandalf's. But I suppose the most unexpected of all was Thorin's… even if I hadn't been conscious for it. I can honestly say that I felt both touched and incredibly nervous at the thought. As the hours wore on, my eyes kept flickering to the entrance, expecting to see the Dwarf-king approaching. Why was I so queasy at the chance of a confrontation? It's not like he was steamed at me, or anything like that. Even if he just wanted to thank me for unconsciously saving his nephew, I still was horribly over-thinking and coming up with way too many scenarios of how it might go. It was those befuddled emotions and immensely awkward hypothetical situations that led me into sleep that night. And it seemed that no matter how differently they ended, they all began with indigo eyes and a deep voice saying, "Miss Parker."