"-eed not be concerned, master dwarf-"
"Do not presume to tell me whether I should be concerned!" Dwalin's voice rings unpleasantly in her ears. Why is he shouting?
"Dwalin, he's right. I know it was worrisome at first-" That's Oin's voice.
"Worrisome?!" Emery inwardly flinches. Must he be so loud?
"-but Lord Elrond's healing magic did what it was meant to do, and she pulled through." Elrond? Are we in Rivendell already? "Pulled through..." How close did I come to dying this time?
"Indeed." That voice is familiar, but she can't identify it. "She is a strong young woman, few would have lasted so long after being mauled by a warg. Though I suspect the remarkably swift healing had no small part in it, as well." There's a sharp intake of breath.
"How do you know about that?" I'd like an answer to that, as well.
"There were a few tells before, but the clearest sign occurred only just now, when her breathing became more alert. I know she heals quickly because she is awake, a full day before I would have expected her to be." There's some shuffling and footsteps, and a large hand gently touches her shoulder.
"Lass? Emery, can you hear me?" Dwalin says from beside her. She doesn't open her eyes right away, but she takes a breath.
"I think all of Rivendell heard you," she croaks, her throat sore. Oin laughs. She opens her eyes, only to shut them again. The light in the room is blinding after having her eyes shut for so long. She tries again, slowly this time, giving her pupils a chance to adjust. Standing on her left is Dwalin, and Oin is on her right. The third person is Elrond, who is handing Oin a cup. So that's why his voice was familiar. Oin helps her sit up on the pillows, then offers her the cup. It turns out to be water, and she guzzles it down.
"You ought to slow down," says Elrond from the foot of the bed. "You made a great deal of progress during your slumber, but your body is still healing." Emery furrows her brow.
"How long was I unconscious?" she asks.
"Less than a day, lass," says Oin. She raises an eyebrow.
"Seventeen hours," Dwalin says, rolling his eyes. He knows from experience that she prefers more precise numbers than Oin usually offers. She tried to explain it to him once, why she likes to have an accurate accounting of time despite struggling with time blindness, but just ended up confusing him even more. So in the end they just decided to call it a quirk and leave it at that.
"The last thing I remember is a warg falling dead on top of me," she says. "What happened after that?" Between the three of them and several interruptions, they manage to tell her what happened. After she was brought into the Halls of Healing, Lindir and Gandalf managed to get the Company settled in the dining pavilion to eat. However, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili were making such a fuss about not being able to see her, that Lindir went to fetch Oin (who as a healer had been allowed to follow and was observing as Elrond worked) to keep them informed on how she was faring. When she was finally stable and patched up, Oin brought Dwalin in to see her. (He used the excuse that only one person should visit at a time, but in truth he recognized the look in his cousin's eyes: that of a frightened parent, though he omits this detail from the story). "Did you get any sleep while you were sat waiting for me to wake up?" she questions with an eyebrow raised. Thanks to the trolls, none of the Company got any sleep the night before last, and she was unconscious this last night. So if Dwalin stayed awake as she suspects he did, then it's been almost three days since he's slept. Not that he hasn't gone that long without sleep a fair number of times before, but it isn't pleasant nor healthy. And Dwalin, seasoned warrior that he is, knows the value and necessity of sleep. He waves at the air as if brushing away her concern.
"I slept a bit, I'm fine," he says. She frowns at him. She doesn't think he's lying, but he hates that word, and he doesn'tlook fine. Anyone who knows him well would be able to see the signs that he spent the night fitful and fretting, even if he did manage to sleep a little. She doesn't say anything else, though. He's been kind enough to let subjects drop in the past, and it's only fair that she does the same.
Emery sips at the bowl of soup in her hands. She feels like she could eat a full steak, but Elrond advised that she err on the side of caution for at least another day, and stick to soft foods and liquids. So she sighs and resigns herself to broth and soft vegetables. It doesn't taste bad, at least. She's nearly finished with the bowl when there's a knock on the door, and Oin pokes his head inside and asks if she feels up for a visitor. She nods and slurps down the remains of the soup, then sets the bowl on the little table beside the bed. She looks up at the door, expecting to see Dwalin again, but to her surprise she instead sees the Hobbit.
"Bilbo, this is a surprise," she says honestly. He suddenly looks nervous and glances back at the door.
"I'm-I'm terribly sorry," he stutters, "I did-didn't mean to disturb you. I can leave-" He starts to turn back towards the door, but she stops him.
"No no, you can stay," she says. "Your visit is a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. If I'm to be entirely honest, it's been rather lonely. Dwalin and Oin are the only Dwarves who visit. Everyone else has yet to forgive me for deceiving them." Fili and Kili did visit once, but it was very awkward and they didn't say anything beyond asking after her health. Bilbo settles himself in the chair beside her bed, the one Dwalin spent hours occupying. "In truth, I'm not sure Oin has quite forgiven me, either. He's just been rather distracted by my status as a patient." Bilbo smiles ruefully.
"I don't claim to understand your situation," he says, "but I have some sympathy for you. Most of the Company don't think I belong on this quest. I think, more than anything else, they simply tolerate my presence for Gandalf's sake, and because Thorin commanded it so when he gave me that contract." He shakes his head in frustration. Emery half smiles.
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't share their opinions." Bilbo looks at her in confusion, so she explains. "I was rooting for you from the beginning. You were trepidatious, but willing to help, and that alone speaks volumes for your character." Rather than understanding, his brow creases in further confusion.
"Gandalf was under the impression that I joined the Company out of a sense of adventure," he says. "What made you think otherwise?" She hesitates, thinking of how exactly to word her response.
"Emotions have physical effects on the body, and therefore have smells. Nearly impossible to detect with the average nose. But canines have far more sensitive noses than most other creatures, and if you remember, I was a wolf when we met."
"How could I forget?" Bilbo chuckles. "You were utterly terrifying." She chuckles with him, then continues.
"Excitement did make an appearance in the smells I detected from you, but only a little and very briefly. Fear stayed present nearly the entire night. Mostly as anxiety, some as nervous anticipation. But the scent that made several appearances at key moments, was compassion. You felt for the Dwarves and their cause, and that on its own was positively indicative of the kind of person you are. And when you showed up the following day with the contract signed, well that was all the proof I needed that you deserved a place among us." It's not a lie. Just not the whole truth. She has a feeling she might have to explain the entire truth to him and the rest of the Company at some point in the future, but for now she'll stick to what will keep Bilbo from staying behind in Rivendell when they leave. From what she's seen, a sense of adventure isn't what defines a Took, but courage. Bilbo seems to have little excitement for experiencing the unknown in person rather than from the safety of a book, but a great deal of compassion, and the courage to overcome his fears for the sake of it. The little Hobbit is terrified and would much rather stay home and continue reading about the world rather than seeing it, but his willingness to help gives him bravery to traverse the world, anyway. And that is what Emery needs to remind him of.
It seems to work, because his expression lightens and his shoulders straighten just a bit.
"I don't understand, though," he speaks again. "If they accepted you as a wolf, and your intentions haven't changed, why would they not accept you as you are now?"
"Because I deceived them," she answers with a sigh." Dwarves do not trust easily, and believe you me, they've had more than enough reason not to. Fili and Kili were both very young when we met, and at the time all they saw was a furry friend. They gave their trust freely. Thorin was a bit more cautious, but I was also very young at the time, and he came around. Everyone else was slow to trust me. Some of them took years, but they all eventually did. There's something you must understand about Dwarves regarding trust: it's a sacred thing, something that if given, is respected. It's an unspoken rule that if there's trust, there are no big secrets. At least, not without a very good reason. I kept a massive secret from them, and I can't tell them the reason."
"But surely it's not that great a secret," he interrupts. "I mean, you're still the same person, wolf or not." She shakes her head.
"Bilbo, this is about so much more than my form. I hid the truth of my identity from them. My name, my history, even my ability to speak. And there were things assumed about me because I was a wolf, the most obvious probably being my interests in romantic prospects." Bilbo's cheeks redden a bit at that statement, but she presses on. "They'll have to come to entirely new understandings about what makes me who I am because they now know that the context they were provided with was flawed, and intentionally so. There are behaviors they'll have to adjust because of what's appropriate around an animal versus a lady. Surely you've noticed that Fili and Kili tend to curl up against me when we sleep? They can't do that anymore because now they know I'm not just a wolf. For the first time in over five decades, they'll be sleeping without me, and it won't be because I was injured. Their entire perception of the reality of me is changing, and it's based on a lie that I can't even give them a reason for." Finally, understanding seeps into Bilbo's expression, and he grasps the severity of the betrayal.
"So...they very well may never trust you again?" he asks softly. She nods sadly. And maybe a bit bitterly.