For the third time in the span of a single day, I found myself standing up close to the wall of a building in a quiet alleyway, doing my best to look inconspicuous as I surveyed the stones. The biting cold wind raced down the narrow corridor between the backs of newly repaired buildings on either side. It carried each breath away before it could even freeze the moisture out of it, and forced me to pull my thankfully large, mannish sleeves down as far as I could over my numb fingers. At least the bitter breeze meant that there was barely anyone around to see my strange behaviour.

Was I involved in some dubious deed? Had I uncovered new details in a secret plot that required immediate correspondence with Dale? Had my sleep-deprived and often chilled state slowed my brain to the point where I had forgotten the location of the hidden dead drop, where such correspondence was to take place?

No.

Truthfully, it was much less glamorous than all that. These days, every sane-minded person in Dale bustled to and fro with a sense of urgency born of the fact that if they lingered too long out in the wintery conditions, they would regret it later, and yet here I was, out in the cold, inspecting the architecture.

To be more specific, I was overly paranoid that the dwarvish repairs done to the buildings around my ramshackle apartment weren't up to par. I knew that I had no reason to suspect so - given that during the months leading up to my arrival only the rather important buildings were prone to falling apart, and none of the buildings in this section of the city even came close to being of any significant value. Besides that, nothing had collapsed since the attack on the mountain, but still, here I was inspecting the mortar between new and old sections of stonework, because truthfully it was the only way I felt I could be useful here.

So far, in the five days of living like a man in the slums of Dale, I noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Despite all my training, all the prompting and lessons in how to spot someone of questionable repute, I couldn't single out a single person that seemed even remotely interesting, let alone up to no good - which was probably for the best, since it took most of my concentration each day just to pull off my male disguise. Spending what little of my remaining brain power on inspecting repairs at least made me feel like my day wasn't a total waste, even if I had yet to find even the barest chink in the dwarves' work.

Entering Dale had been, in fact, much easier than I had anticipated. The last caravan of refugees had accepted my accompaniment for the final leg of their journey with nothing more than a dismissive nod. They were so eager to reach the safety and comfort to be offered behind the city walls that their inclination towards small talk and introductory questioning had been all but subdued. I kept my head down, and, as the designated immigration official began to lead the newcomers to the great hall, I slipped down a side street. My guise must have been more convincing than I believed it to be, as, much to my terror, I crossed paths with Bard just after separating from the group, yet he simply walked by me without so much as a second glance. I remembered Bard had not even seen me with my hair cut short, let alone darkened and mostly hidden under a cloak, so he likely would have had to all but run right into me in order to recognize my other facial features.

I found my way relatively easily to the small house the dwarves had secured for me to reside in and I noticed upon entering the dwelling that my trunk of clothing and supplies had already been delivered - a relatively easy task for the dwarves to accomplish without much notice since they were still regularly bringing cartloads of building material to numerous locations within Dale that they were still repairing. My tiny abode had been furnished with a single bed, a small table and a singular chair, yet I also found it stocked with extra blankets, candles and cut firewood. The table had been laden with a stack of fresh parchment, vials of ink and a few new quills for writing my bi-weekly reports. My first one had left much to be desired, as I could think of nothing more lucrative to jot down besides that fact that I had remained undetected, but had discovered nothing unusual so far.

So here I was, standing in the alley and peering at a wall on one of the coldest days, hoping my untrained eye might pick up some kind of evidence, when I suddenly heard a voice speak up from close-by and forced myself to simply tense up rather than jump like a frightened rabbit.

"I had an uncle who started staring at walls once..." I could hear the owner of the voice walking closer, and cringed to myself.

"At least you're not striking up conversations with them yet."

I turned away from the building, keeping my head bent to help conceal my features, but I quickly cast my eyes upward to catch a glimpse of who had spoken, trying desperately to think of a quick excuse for my behaviour before I intended to vacate the area. He was tall, with a broad nose and chin, and relatively short, darker blonde hair that fell over his forehead.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. "I'm sorry. I thought- I didn't realize-"

I decided to hedge my bets and simply started walking away. I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but I realized that trying to hold a conversation with this man would be risky. I wasn't particularly good at disguising my voice and he seemed far too chatty. Much to my disgruntlement he began to follow.

"I'm sorry, ma'am... miss? I didn't mean to deter you from your... wall observation time. Should you be out here alone?"

"How did you-?" I began, swinging around to look at him, but then I realized what a big mistake that was and tried to correct myself by shaking my head and deepening my voice as much as possible. "You're mistaken." I said gruffly, ducking my head and continuing on my way, this time a little faster as I attempted to escape.

He caught up to me easily, however, and then matched my pace as I walked.

"Look," he began, "if you want to properly disguise your voice, you have to make it more natural than that." He gestured with his arms in front of him as he spoke as if he were making some great appeal. "You've overcompensated just there. You went too low, it sounded phony, I mean, have you ever even met a man that talks like that?"

I stopped once more and turned to look at him, this time with more scrutiny. He was clean shaven and had a few freckles across his nose. His brows were just a few shades darker than his hair and offset a pair of curious blue eyes. He had a wider mouth with thin lips that were upturned in a friendly grin. He was taller than Bard by a few inches and a bit broader across the shoulders. Despite this, he seemed much less imposing, and far less grim.

Unimposing or not, I couldn't think of a single thing to say in response to his brief instruction. I glanced around quickly, ensuring no one else had heard the exchange. He quickly held up his hands.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone that I saw you out here dressed as a man, staring at a wall." He assured me, which didn't help matters - I had blown my cover already, not even a week into my assignment. "But why are you out here dressed as a man, staring at a wall?" he asked. "You're not crazy, are you?"

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, and then squinted at him. "How could you tell so quickly?" I asked, pulling my cloak tighter around me, trying not to visibly shiver.

He smiled and seemed to puff up his chest. "I grew up in a household of woman. Three sisters, plus my mom and grandmom." he explained. "It fell to me to notice if any of them changed any little thing about their appearance, so I became extra perceptive... and you don't have the right bone structure to be a man, your neck is all wrong, plus I can tell that's just soot covering your face there."

I let out a small 'oh' and then cast my gaze back up the alleyway, wondering what I might say so that would let me go without further questioning. For all my training in adequate lying and deceit tactics, I wasn't quite prepared for an encounter where my whole disguise was torn apart within minutes. I turned back to look at the man, arranging my face into something less perplexed.

"Not that it's any of your business," I began somewhat crassly, having to speak up as a particularly spirited gust of wind blew past us. "The truth is that I just arrived in the city. I was on the road for some time, and travelling as a woman is dangerous even in the best of times." At least that part was half-true. That was something my training had stressed over and over again - use small truths to cover big lies.

"Oh, of course... that does make sense." he responded, nodding thoughtfully. "So then, what about the wall thing? If you are crazy, it's alright. I won't judge."

I grinned a little despite myself, and then latched onto the first ludicrous thought that crossed my mind. "My ancestors once lived in Dale, my great-great - well a few times great- grandfather helped construct later parts of the city. I was told once he had a signature style with the way he mortared the stonework... I was on my way to my new home and this wall caught my eye." I shrugged in a somewhat embarrassed fashion. "I am truthfully quite tired from travelling, I might have dazed off a little."

"You know, under all that manliness you do look a little tired, now that you mention it." he observed uncouthly, but then made up for it by offering to walk me home. It was the sort of encounter that, had it been a year ago in Bree, I would have turned down on principle. After all, in my experience with human men there had been no such thing as a selfless act. Now, with my worldview greatly expanded, I was almost tempted to take him up on his offer. If only it wasn't for my secret mission. No, leading a stranger back to my house would not be a good idea, I decided.

"No, that's quite alright." I said, shaking my head. "If my ancestors knew I needed a guide to find my way around the city that they helped build, they would be rolling in their graves. Besides, I should find my way on my own, otherwise I'll always be getting myself lost."

He looked ready to object but then seemed to decide to respect my wishes. "Well, if you do find yourself lost, I am just around the corner there, five houses down, big cedar door, you'll often hear raised women's voices inside... though I suppose if you are lost anywhere but here, you're out of luck." he trailed off, reaching up and scratching his chin.

I bit my lip a moment and then bid him goodbye, walking down the alley in the opposite direction from my home - not that I felt threatened by this man, I just felt that I should commit to the secrecy I was trying to uphold. I likely wouldn't even see him again anytime soon, so I resolved to do my best to go on as though the encounter hadn't happened. Still, as I was about to round the corner I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder... the strange, friendly man staring rather closely at the stone wall.

I had thought about abandoning my purpose in Dale after my encounter with the talkative blonde man, yet I would feel like such a failure for wasting much of the dwarves' time and resources only to return within a week with absolutely nothing to offer. Instead I decided instead to take on a new identity, which I spent the better portion of a day creating for myself. I washed my face clean the next afternoon and headed towards a small shop I had passed by a few days previous. It boasted very inexpensive used clothing for those arriving without much to their name. I picked out a few long skirts that seemed about my size, two bodices that were perhaps a little dull and tattered at the seams but otherwise in good condition, a long-sleeved chemise for under the bodices, a scarf and a simple round-shaped hat that covered most of my forehead and the tops of my ears. The dwarves had given me a rather ample purse of gold and I gave the shopkeeper a full coin more than what she asked for the wares. She smiled at me fondly and happily answered a few of my questions. I asked her if there was anywhere that people gathered in the evenings, for talk and drink out of the cold, and she informed me of a building that was slowly being transformed into a functional tavern - though its stock was still very limited and the food served left something to be desired - but still it was warm and often rather busy. I also asked where I could buy a small mirror, as the dwarves failed to pack me one, and was directed to a general supplies shop just a few doors down that sometimes had household items in stock. I nodded my thanks and ducked out back into the snowfall.

I changed into my new garb once I returned back to my house, keeping on my trousers under my new skirt for added warmth. I let lose my hair and pulled some of it forward in front of my ears, before I placed on my hat. I then set to melting some wax which I mixed with my jar of charcoal powder. Once set, I took a small brush that I had found at the second shop, along with a new handheld mirror, and applied a line of it along my lashes. I also went over my eyebrows, darkening them to better match my hair and just slightly changing the shape. I added a beauty mark high on my cheekbone for good measure, and then felt placated that the few Laketowners' that knew me would likely no longer be able to recognize me in passing.

Wrapping a scarf around my neck, I headed back out and made my way to the makeshift tavern. The shopkeeper had been correct in that it was busy, especially on a blustery, miserable evening such as this. A montage of voices and laughter hit my ears as soon as I stepped inside. I revelled for a moment in the warmth that also washed over me - even with a fire, my small house was not very well insulated, especially with only one body to help heat it so I typically always had to have a blanket draped over my shoulders. In the tavern, however, there were enough people to make the air feel almost balmy. Candles were lit at every table and numerous wall sconces, and a large fireplace was alight and crackled happily against the far wall where a few more comfy chairs had been arranged. A long bar had been constructed at the front of the room, with both a man and woman behind it, wiping mugs clean and serving drinks. I was constantly surprised at the progress Dale had made, and though I could see that the tables and chairs had been hastily constructed out of mismatched wood, the whole building was serving its purpose just fine.

I hesitantly walked up to the bar area. The woman sidled over to me, tucking her cleaning cloth in her belt. She was middle aged and looked rather tired, but she gave me a friendly smile nonetheless.

"What can I do you for?" she asked, placing her hand on the bar and leaning some of her weight on it. "We've only got two selections of ale, light or dark, plus a barrel or two of some Dorwinion wine if you've a finer taste. And we've got fresh bread and cheese tonight if you're peckish."

I took a light ale and the proffered foods, missing the rich, fatty meats Erebor always seemed to supply, and then sidled to a small table in the corner. Luckily I was not the only solo guest in the establishment so I didn't stand out on my own. I ate and drank slowly, straining to hear bits of the conversations playing out around me. Still, it didn't sound as if there was any unusual gossip floating around at all. I realized, however, that this was the place to be in order to hear a lot of information in a relatively short time span. After I finished up, I walked back to the bar and smiled at the woman who had served me. She approached me again and I thanked her for her service and then introduced myself, using the false name I had decided upon.

"I'm Eleanor. I've just recently arrived here." I told her, keeping watch to make sure I wasn't keeping her from any other waiting customers. "Listen, I know you probably wouldn't normally consider this, but I'm looking for work, I wouldn't require much pay, I'd even work shifts just for an included dinner."

She raised her eyebrows speculatively but didn't immediately object so I hastened to explain.

"I don't need much to live on. I'm here on my own." I said, lacing my voice with a soft sadness. "I was living with my father and brother on a small farm about twenty leagues south of here. After the battle, we had no warning that there were still orc parties roving about the countryside. They found us in the night and my father forced me to take our only horse and run... I circled back at first light, but... they didn't make it." At this point I let my eyes glaze over. "I knew I couldn't stay, all our livestock was slain, so I travelled until I found others in the same situation travelling here... I mostly just need an excuse to leave the house, be around people, you know? I'm used to hard work."

The barkeep thought for a moment, pursing her lips, and then reached out and took hold of my hand.

"Aye." she nodded, grinning at me sadly. "We can at least see how you do. The maker knows we could use a little help, it's been tiring work for these old bones."

I thanked her profusely and she told me to come in before the dinner crowds the next day so that they might show me the rounds. I smiled to myself as I walked home that night. Finally I had made some advancement, and I had convinced someone that I was a different person entirely. Tragic yet determined Eleanor. And though I had vowed to never again work in a tavern, Eleanor had not. The setting was also much different from my past experience so I was almost eager to prove my merit in a less-hostile taproom.

I learnt the next day that the tavern operators, Cuthbert and Avis, were a married couple who once ran a small pub in Laketown. Bard (whom was interestingly referred to as 'King' Bard) had given them special permission to open up the new establishment in Dale once the trade agreements ensured rather continual supplies. The vast majority of the profit simply went back into paying for those supplies, and they had to keep their prices very low as most of Dale's inhabitants still had next to nothing to live on. Apparently much of the gold donated by Erebor had gone into repairing, furnishing and stocking most of the more communal properties, such as the tavern, great hall, and many of the shops - so no one person 'owned' these fundamental properties. Instead, willing inhabitants of Dale had been granted leave to work in such areas for a small wage, ensuring that the people were not taken advantage of by greedy owners that would demand unrealistic prices for essential goods.

Avis then asked me if I would still be willing to work for meals and - if any guest felt so inclined to leave any - tips. I quickly agreed and she proceeded to show me the backroom where they would get as much food preparation done as possible before they would see their first costumers. Their provisions largely depended on the quantity and frequency of shipments arriving from Mirkwood, the Iron Hills, and a few lucrative farming villages far to the south. This meant that sometimes they would only be able to bake breads or rolls, and supplement it with dried fruits or hard cheeses, whereas other times they could cook hearty stews, and, on the rare occasion, they might even have a cut of freshly cooked meat to include.

Today, they could only provide relatively the same meal as last night; a dense, brown bread with a hunk of spiced cheese. Avis set me to slicing the bread while she got plates ready, and when I was through she showed me the bar front and how to pull the drafts without getting too much foam (something I already knew how to do, but still I nodded as if I were just learning). She then pointed out the wine cask at the end, and indicated towards where the clean mugs were stored under the bar. I was also told what to do with dirty mugs and plates, how to collect payment, and where the cleaning supplies were kept so that I might wipe down tables and deal with major spills.

"Think you got it all? It is a lot to take in all at once I know, but you'll learn as you go, and we'll both be right here." Avis asked kindly as she handed me a fresh apron.

I gave her a small, nervous smile and nodded. In truth it would be easy, second-hand really, but they both believed me a farmer girl with no experience, so I couldn't act too confident at first.

The evening passed in a breeze, and I was surprisingly exhausted by the end of my shift. It had been busier than the previous night and I found myself being called behind the bar to help pull drinks in between bringing out plates of food and quickly wiping up when a table was vacated.

"It almost seems fated that you came to us when you did, we haven't been that busy in a while." Avis remarked as she dropped down onto a chair with a small groan after the last customer had left.

"You did well, miss." Cuthbert added gruffly from behind his short, greying beard. "I think we'd like to have you back tomorrow, if you're interested?"

I assured them I was, helped finish the dishes, and was sent home with an entire quarter block of cheese and a full loaf of bread. I checked upon arrival to my place that my dark makeup had not been smudged during the evening and was happy to see it all still in place despite the fact that I had been sweating at some points - I had been extra careful to not rub my forehead to avoid smearing an eyebrow. I noticed, however, that my hair was looking a little greyish as opposed to the dark brown it was supposed to be, so I resolved myself to getting up early the next morning in order to re-colour it.

I was beginning to sorely miss my large, comfortable quarters of Erebor and I was surprised at how quickly I had become accustomed to a more lavish lifestyle. I didn't realize how truly spoiled and entitled I'd become until I found myself grimacing at the prospect of having to use and empty a chamber pot, and washing my hair over a basin with warm kettle water. In truth, it was better than my many years living in Bree, but I still couldn't help but long for the luxuries I'd left behind in the mountain.

The next few nights at the tavern were quieter, which was more advantageous for me as it allowed me to really hone into different discussions happening throughout. Avis was so impressed with my performance that she quickly decided to let me take drink orders directly at the tables, so I was able to spend the majority of the time right on the floor, keeping my ears open and casting subtle looks around at the patrons, watching out for anyone that looked a tad leery. I was surprised to see that the working dwarves of Dale frequented the tavern as well, always ordering a few rounds of the dark ale. I was happy to serve them as I enjoyed listening to their deep, rolling voices. I never recognized any of them, however, and they didn't seem to recognize me.

One night I was wiping up a rather sticky table when I heard a hushed voice from a man that must have been sitting nearby behind me. I slowed my cleaning, turning my head just slightly to better overhear.

"-no, I'll be meeting with my, ah, client, tomorrow at dawn. All the preparations are in order."

I sidled around the table somewhat, pretending to be working at a very stubborn spot, and cast a tiny glace at the table over. Two men were seated there; I didn't recall seeing them arrive, though I had been in the back for a portion of the past hour washing plates. Their heads were huddled rather close together, and I did not recognize them from any other night. They were unshaven, and travel-worn and I knew they weren't of Laketown descent. My heart rate quickened. Something about their private posturing and their quiet tones made me wonder if I had finally come across persons of suspicion. I moved to another table just nearby, pretending like they didn't exist to me while I tried to tune everything but their voices out.

"Are you certain it will work? It has not in the past-"

I was getting excited now, but much to my extreme irritation a new guest came and sat down at the table I was pretending to clean, and his bustling about caused me to miss what was next said. I tensed and quickly scanned for another empty table within earshot that I could move to, but before I could step away the new guest addressed me.

"Oh! It's you. I didn't know you worked here now."

I spared him a glance to see that it was the tall, blondish man that I had exchanged words with in the alley a few days back. I shot him a quick, impatient grin and then looked back towards the men at the other table. To my dismay I saw that they were getting up, ready to leave.

"Did you just start here?" the blonde man continued, seemingly oblivious to my irritation.

The two strange men continued talking on their way to the exit, but I couldn't catch a word of it as the man seated at my table decided to fill the awkward silence and keep speaking.

"Sooo, what does a man have to do to get a drink around here?" he asked casually.

I swung around with a huff, ready to glare at him, but caught myself in time and smiled rather tersely instead.

"What would you like?" I clipped.

"The black draft, and some food. Please... I'm Hall by the way." he said with a smile, taking off his hat and ruffling his hair.

"Hall?" I repeated, unsure if I had heard him correctly, but he nodded happily. "Is that short for something?" I asked.

"Nope. Just Hall." he assured, before knocking his boots together to get the snow off. I rather thought he should have done that at the door, but of course I couldn't tell him that.

"Right. I'll be right back with everything." I said, darting to the bar before he could engage me in any further conversation.

When I returned with his plate and mug, he was turned in his seat, laughing with a man seated behind him at another table. I set his order down and he spun back forward to look at me.

"You know, usually it's polite to return a name when someone tells you theirs." he chided.

"It's - um... Eleanor." I told him, still rather distracted by my lost chance at perhaps overhearing something actually important for once.

"Short for Elanorean?" he asked, taking a swig of his drought.

"What? No. Just Eleanor." I retorted, shooting him a quizzical look. He was still smiling. I shook my head slightly, a genuine smile hidden behind my annoyance. "Let me know if I can get you anything else." I added more gently before returning to my duties.

The rest of the evening passed without any more incidents of suspicious behaviour - unless you counted Hall pulling off bits from his bread and rolling them into small, compact spheres before eating them. When I picked up his empty dishes and collected his payment, he asked if I needed accompaniment walking home that night to which I politely declined once more.

"I just don't believe a young, vulnerable lady, such as yourself, should be out on the streets alone after dark."

I smiled almost bitterly, thinking of everything I had been through; warg hunts, stone giants, Azog, giant spiders, imprisonment, Smaug, the battle, losing Thorin, Kili and Fili...

"Trust me," I began rather gravely, "I am not vulnerable." I lightened my tone and smirked. "And I'm not that young. I might even be older than you."

He clucked his tongue. "I don't think I believe that." he replied, stretching his long arms behind his head. "Well, goodnight then Eleanor. I'm sure we will cross paths again - likely due to the fact that I enjoy coming to this fine establishment for the occasional nightcap."

When I arrived back at my residence, I grabbed a clean scroll to write out what I had heard at the tavern - which I recalled was something that sounded secretive and involved someone meeting someone else early the following morning... I knew my information was certainly unreliable and altogether too cryptic, it most likely meant nothing at all, and I doubted very much a dwarf would be checking the dead drop location in between now and dawn. Still, there was something about those men, they didn't seem to belong, they didn't laugh, they kept their heads bent, and so I thought it best to at least mention it in my report.

I quickly jotted down what I'd overheard, and what I could remember about the men's appearance and dress. I made it clear that it was only a feint suspicion, since I hadn't exactly heard anything directly incriminating. Yet I was still pleased to provide something other than my typical, wildly unexciting 'no news, nothing happening' statements I had left so far. I threw on my hat and scarf and stepped out into the dark night. I began towards the stone wall, making doubly sure that no one was in the area and no one was watching from their windows as I walked.

The dead drop location itself was rather well chosen as it resided on a lesser used street with no windows facing that direction. I ambled up to the wall, and leaned against it, pretending to simply be taking a break while my cold fingers wiggled and pried at the loose stone just behind me - second to the left, five rows up from the bottom. I quickly tucked the folded parchment in the small hollow and returned the piece of wall to its original position, making sure it was securely fitted before I returned home.

I fell asleep that night wondering what the morning would bring.