Through the winding stone walkways, the two friend's ambled along, shoulder to shoulder, ignoring the suspicious looks being sent their way. For being an award winning author, Varric was incredibly impressed by Bilbo's ability to spin the story of his more recent adventure. As the streets became sparse as they walked through a quieter route in the mountain, laughter echoed around the walls.

"Only you could talk your way out of being eaten."

"I was thinking on my feet. I knew I had to stall till sunrise and hope Gandalf reappeared from wherever he had gone."

"And the dwarves didn't appreciate it, right?"

"Some did. But Thorin?

/Flashback\\\

Usually, Bilbo could ignore when slander was sent his way but being treated like a three-foot handkerchief and nearly being eaten tends to sour one's mood. Right now, he was not willing to let the illustrious leader of the group blame him for this mess.

"May I remind you, Master Oakenshield," Bilbo started as diplomatically as he approached the raven-haired King in exile, "that if your nephews had WATCHED THE PONIES, maybe they would have noticed a ten foot troll, KNOCKING OVER A TREE and grabbing two of them."

"So you decide to run in on your own?"

"I was doing my job in getting them back."

"It is my responsibility, as leader of this company, to ensure everyone's safety..."

"But you're not responsible for my fate, are you?" Bilbo said it quietly, softly, almost inaudible. But to Thorin, it was as though he were struck. His harsh words to Gandalf all those nights ago, when he thought they were alone, were now being used against him. Like an accusation. He stood in silence, trying to find a suitable response but the sound of thundering of feet approaching became everyone's priority.

/End of Flashback\\\

"He didn't get better till after Goblin Town."

"Woah woah. Back up. A town of goblins? When did that happen?"

"That was much later when we were crossing the Misty Mountains. A mountain range that splits the east from the west. But I'm going off course. "

"Alright. So, from the trolls."

"After checking the troll hoard, the air grew with the sound of pounding paws approaching…"

Eventually they had made it to Bilbos lodgings. He had picked it for its peaceful area away from the main hustle and bustle, that seemed perpetual within Erabor, and its closeness to the library and the royal wing. The company had tried to get him a room within those quarters but he felt that as he was just a simple hobbit, that those rooms should be reserved to the royal family and he should take a much more humble space. Though some still grumbled that their Hobbit deserved something more ostentatious, Thorin agreed to respect his wishes. It was still a little sparsely furnished as the caravan from the west containing his belongings from Bag End was still a month away at least but the carved stone and wood tables, chairs and bedframe had stayed in good condition (as any good dwarven craftsmanship should according to everyone in the company). All the softer pieces like blankets, cushions and upholstery had been purchased or gifted. Dori had used his sewing skills to salvage some material that had survived the decades of Smaug's residence, any spare yarn was given to Ori who was knitting nonstop all winter, even when nose deep in one of the library's many ancient books and Bifer had been happy to reupholster two armchairs that sat by the fire while Bilbo continued recounting his journey to his longest dwarven friend.

"Seriously?" Varric asked, almost exasperated, "You saved them from trolls, negotiated with the elven keeper after they washed in the fountain and nearly died twice crossing the mountains and he's still calling you burglar?"

"He never called me by my name. It was always Burglar or Halfling if he was more angry than usual."

"Did he forget your name or something?"

"Everyone addressed me as Master Baggins at that point and we were together all the time for safety reasons. Not like Cassandra. You didn't say my name in front of her for weeks."

"Oh come on. It was funny."

/Flashback\\\

The tent flaps closed as Bilbo made his exit. He was exhausted physically and mentally. He knew he had to stay to fix the holes in the sky but seeing death on an almost daily basis since he had arrived unexpectedly in Haven was difficult. An early rest was muchly needed so, with a final goodnight, he left Varric and Cassandra by the fire for their first watch.

"He has a name you know?" Varric said softly. "You could use it once in a while."

"Of course not, Varric," Cassandra scoffed. "He's the Herald of Andraste and we should use his title. It is only appropriate."

"It seems to me you're just hiding the fact you don't know it" he teased, staring into the fire. After not getting a crass response, he looked back at her and noticed she was staring at the ground, quite intently. Varric nearly burst out laughing. "By the Maker, Seeker. Surely you at least asked his name,"

"It may have… slipped my mind."

"Too busy threatening his life to ask the basic questions?"

"There were more important things on my mind. The conclave, the Divine's death, starting the Inquisition…"

"And you'd not think to grab our saviour's real name before taking him anywhere?"

Cassandra growled in frustration. "Just tell me, Varric."

"You'd honestly believe me if I did?" he gave out with a mischievous grin. Cassandra took a deep sigh and stared intensely at the fire so he finally showed a little mercy. "You can just ask him, you know. He's pretty understanding if what I've seen is anything to go by."

"We have been travelling the Hinterlands for days. It's too late now to ask without it seeming awkward."

"You don't have to be so direct. You can re-introduce yourselves. I'll give you an example." Varric cleared his throat dramatically like a poet performing his newest sonnet. "Herald. I wish to apologise for keeping you captive and threatening to kill you. I was wrong. Can we start over? Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast at your service."

"That is ridiculous."

"True. You would never apologise to anyone."

"It could never work."

"It would. He'd probably apologise for not formally introducing himself."

"How would you know that?"

"He did the same with me."

/End of Flashback\\\

"I did hear you, you know."

"Looking back now, I'm not surprised. Those pointy ears of yours could hear Kid's footsteps"

"How do you think I kept my silverware. And before you ask, her first words to me were 'Tell me why I should not kill you right now?'"

"Ha knew it"

At that point, they heard three knocks at the door. Well, more like pounds but Bilbo had gotten used to his friends punching it as though they were trying to break the door off its hinges.

"Hey Bilbo, you in?" came a cheerful voice, "Balin's been waitin for them reports."

"Oh goodness!" Bilbo jumped to his feet and quickly ran to greet his guest. "Good day to you Bofer. I'll have to apologise when I see him later. Come in. I'll get you a drink." The hatted dwarf gladly stepped inside. He was the first of the company that had befriended him due to his upbeat nature bit his near permanent smile faltered slightly when his eyes met that of his other guest. He wouldn't have been so wary if he knew what his friend was doing with a dwarf with so little hair alone in his quarters.

"Who's your new friend?" Bofer asked as lightly as he could.

"This is Varric Tethras. I've known him for quite a while"

"Oh?"

"We haven't seen each other in years. He came all this way to visit so we wanted to catch up."

"I tried to contact him but he just up and disappeared." Varric explained as he stood up and walked towards Bofer to greet him, "Took me ages to find out where he went"

"Ah, sorry. Probably our fault. Confidentiality and all that"

"Don't worry about it. He has a habit of wandering off."

"I always turn up."

"Eventually."