As the weather began to turn toward fall, Doc finally broached a subject he'd been hesitant to talk with Grumpy about. As they ate dinner one Sunday night, he set his fork down and cleared his throat. At once everybody stopped jostling and shouting over each other to listen. Grumpy was immediately wary as Doc looked at him.

"I was blundering, er, wondering if you would like to come to the mine with us tomorrow."

Grumpy froze, a flash of panic zapping through him. He ducked his head and stared at his plate, unsure of what to say. Because he really didn't want to go to the mines. He had no idea how to mine, which he had figured out was supposed to be a basic skill for any Dwarf. When seeing him outside one evening, Sneezy had stopped to speak with him, and the conversation had moved toward the topic of mining. During that conversation, Sneezy had said too sweetly that Grumpy just had to know how to mine. At his age, it would be absolute codswallop to have never swung a pickax. That stung worse than anything he'd ever said to him, and Sneezy knew it.

Grumpy's silence made Sneezy snicker and Doc turned to glare at him. "What did you say?" he demanded.

Sneezy shrugged. "Just the truth. Ain't that right, Grumpy?"

Grumpy threw his fork down and stormed outside without a word. Sneezy looked pleased.

"Dadgum it, Sneezy!" Doc barked, popping to his feet. "Why can't you leave it alone!"

"What kind of Dwarf cain't mine?" Sneezy demanded. "Even Dopey can do it, and he's only seven."

"He didn't have anybody to reach him, uh, teach him!" Doc exclaimed, hitting the table with his fist. "Why can't you just try to get along with him?"

"He's nothin' but trouble," Sneezy argued. "Ain't that right, Sleepy?"

Sleepy blinked at him then shrugged and leaned his elbow on the table. "He don't seem all bad. A bit rough. Just needs a bit of a p-p-polish." He finished with a yawn, twirling his fork through his mashed cauliflower.

"And really, Sneezy, it ain't fair ta say that sorta thing," Happy said, frowning at him. "How would you like ta not even remember where ya came from? Ta not have a family?"

"It ain't my fault he ain't gots nobody ta teach him ta mine!" Sneezy snapped.

"No, but it's yer fault he don't want to go and learn!" Bashful snapped, getting to his feet.

Everybody stopped at once. To have Bashful get angry actually meant something. He glared at Sneezy, who shrank back in his chair.

"Do ya know how bad yer hurtin' him?" Bashful demanded. "He's already had enough trouble in his life! Ya don't gotta add to it! Mama would be 'shamed a ya, Sneezy! And Papa woulda stripped yer hide! And you'd deserve it, too!"

That shut him up, and it was Sneezy's face that turned scarlet. He ducked his head as Bashful threw down his fork and hurried out the door, leaving silence in his wake. Bashful made his way to the garden to find Grumpy sitting on the bench. His posture indicated he was angry and ashamed, and Bashful stopped and watched him wipe at his eyes then approached.

"Grumpy?"

"I ain't goin'," he snapped.

Bashful considered this. "Okay."

Grumpy turned and squinted at him, a suspicious frown on his face. Then he looked down at his hands. He radiated pain, and Bashful could practically see the scars that made up the Dwarf's heart. They oozed pain like blood, marking him far deeper than was evident to most.

"Ya know, it's okay ta not know something," Bashful said, sitting down beside him. "Golly, there's a lot that I don't know."

"Hmph."

Bashful patted his shoulder. "It really is okay. If ya don't want ta learn yet, we can wait 'til spring."

Grumpy looked at him, a spark of longing in his glinting eyes. But embarrassment was there, too. Bashful understood at once. He wanted to learn, but he didn't want to look like a fool. An idea came to Bashful, and he smiled to himself.

"We should get inside."

"I'll stay."

Bashful nodded and hopped up, knowing he wanted to be alone. "Come back in soon."

But Grumpy didn't go in until very late, sitting in the darkness as the world cooled down. Finally, he went upstairs quietly and slipped into the straw tick he was using as a bed until the frame was made; Sneezy claimed to be too busy to work on it, but Grumpy knew he was stalling in the hopes that he would leave. He fell asleep, expecting Doc to try and rouse him to go off to the mines with them, but he awoke mid-morning to a silent house. He lay in bed, miserably staring at the ceiling. Then a soft noise came from downstairs, and he sat up. Was Dopey home? What was he getting into?

Grumpy surged up and went to the door, looking down to the first floor to see, not Dopey, but Bashful. He was washing dishes, humming to himself, and Grumpy relaxed, relieved that Dopey wasn't making trouble. He made his way back into the bedroom and got ready for the day. When he made it downstairs, Bashful turned and smiled at him.

"Breakfast?"

Grumpy grunted and sat down. "What're ya stayin' here fer? And where's Dopey?"

"Oh, he went ta the mine," Bashful said, carrying a cold plate of sausages and eggs to him.

Grumpy took a bite and chewed slowly. "An' you?"

"I thought I'd check the garden. A few weeds are comin' in. Wanna help me?"

Grumpy shrugged. "Ain't got nothin' better ta do."

After breakfast, they went around back and Bashful began instructing him on what to do. Grumpy obeyed every order, enjoying the physical work. He had no useful skills, so he'd never worked. Besides, most humans wouldn't hire a Dwarf for anything but forging or treasure-making, and he could do neither. So stealing had been his life, the one thing he was good at. But here, at the cottage, he didn't have to steal anything. He could just live, day by day, knowing that there would be hot food and a warm bed waiting for him.

When they were done with the garden, they sat down on the bench and looked out over their work.

"Thanks fer this," Bashful said.

Grumpy grunted, but they both knew he was pleased to be included. Bashful tapped his fingers on his thigh then spoke again.

"The garden ain't the only thing I stayed home fer."

Grumpy turned to squint at him. "Really?"

"Come on," Bashful said, standing up and holding out his hand.

Grumpy took it and was tugged to his feet. Bashful led him back into the front yard then turned off down a small, mostly overgrown path that winded away into the woods and guided him through the undergrowth. They got to what looked to be a small cave, and Grumpy scratched his head as he looked around.

"What's this place?" he asked.

Bashful made his way to the entrance and he picked up two pickaxes. Grumpy stiffened.

"It's an old mine. We used ta come here, but the gold was only in thin veins and we ran out. That's when we moved ta where we are now. It's down yonder thata ways a couple miles. Pickin's're still perty good."

Grumpy backed a couple steps away as Bashful tried to hand him a pickax.

"No!" he snapped. "I ain't gonna do it!"

Bashful stared at him, holding out the tool. "I knows ya want to. And there ain't nobody ta see ya but me. I can teach ya. Really I can."

Grumpy was conflicted. He knew Bashful was the kindest and gentlest of them all, but could he really humiliate himself like that? Sneezy's laughter rang in his head and he clenched his fists. Then he slowly reached out and took it. The tool was heavy in his hands and he ran his fingers along the smooth wooden handle.

"I ain't got no idea how ta use this," he admitted, ashamed.

Bashful smiled. "I knows that. Come on. I'll show ya."

He brought him just inside the mine then pushed him off to the side. Grumpy watched as he took the pickax in his hand and swung it expertly into the wall. Some of the stone crumbled away, and Bashful took another swing in an almost graceful arc, and struck nearly the same place. More stone crumbled away, and he continued to swing several times in a rhythmic way then turned and smiled.

"You try."

Grumpy felt put on the spot, and he nervously approached and took the pickax in his hands. He looked at Bashful, needing assurance, and Bashful nodded, gesturing to the wall. Grumpy took a deep breath and tried to mimic what he'd just seen. When the pickax met the stone wall, his arms jerked and a shock of pain traveled up his arms. He dropped the tool with a yelp and doubled over, sucking in a hard breath as he rubbed his aching hands. Bashful was there in an instant.

"That was a good first try," he encouraged. "Yer grip's wrong. And the angle weren't good. Come on, try again."

Grumpy was reluctant, but with Bashful not howling with laughter on the ground like Sneezy would have been, he picked up the pickax again and held it. Bashful adjusted his grip then took up his own pickax and faced the wall.

"Try it like this," he instructed, and demonstrated again how to swing.

Grumpy watched him for a few moments then tried again. The impact was still jarring, and he grunted, but a small section of wall broke away. He was pleased, and Bashful began to correct his form. They stayed for hours as Grumpy practiced, and by the time the afternoon sun was starting to sink toward the horizon, Grumpy was working at the wall with smooth, steady strikes. Bashful was so pleased that he twirled around.

"Ya got it!" he crowed happily.

Grumpy stopped, caked in sweat and dirt, but he didn't care. A fierce sense of pride burned through him at Bashful's praise, and he puffed out his chest, grinning at him.

"T'ain't that hard," he admitted.

"'Course it ain't," Bashful said, picking up his pickax and gesturing for him to follow. They began to head back home. "It's hard work, but it feels nice ta work hard, don't it?"

Grumpy wholeheartedly agreed. When they got home, he washed off his face, which was beginning to itch from the dirt, then went inside to help Bashful prepare dinner. Bashful was skipping around, so very pleased with his progress, and it made Grumpy happy. He ached all over, but it was pleasant.

The table was set when the song floated to them from a distance. Bashful filled up the glasses with water then stood back to appraise the table.

"Good as anythin'," he said.

Grumpy went over and pulled the spare chair over to the table as the door opened and the Dwarfs tramped in. They were chattering and laughing as they tossed aside their tools and headed for the table. The meal was a pleasant one, with plenty of shoving and laughing. Grumpy was eating quietly and wondering how to ask to go to the mine with them the next day. He longed to prove himself to them and to show Sneezy that he was just as much a Dwarf as him.

During a lull in the playful teasing, Bashful spoke up. "How would ya like ta go to the mines tomorrow, Grumpy?"

Silence fell and Grumpy swallowed a mouthful of venison. "Ain't got nothin' better ta do," he replied evenly.

He saw Doc give a very happy grin to Bashful, who shrugged and flushed red up to his ears, though he looked pleased. Sneezy rolled his eyes but said nothing.

They finished dinner and stacked the bowls, too tired to clean. They always cleaned up in the morning so they had time to relax after work, and that night they sat around the fireplace talking. The talk turned to clans, and Sleepy was pleased when Grumpy asked him to tell stories about the Estodien clan. Sleepy woke up fully and came alive, telling of tales of gold and gems and fantastic adventures. It was the first time Grumpy had been included in the circle as Sleepy gesticulated and changed his voice for each character, and he found a delightful, shy sense of possibly being at home swelling through his breast for the first time. The nerves he felt about going to the mine faded as he sat, spellbound with a kind of magic he'd never experienced before. And when they finally went up to bed and fell asleep, his dreams were full of jewels and treasures. But instead of making him uneasy with a deep sense of greed, they were the best dreams he'd ever had.