I woke the next morning and readied myself as best I could for my meeting with the dwarven healer. As fine as I felt, I had so little information about what to expect, not even a name to address her by when I arrived, and that made me feel a bit uneasy. I wanted to make doubly sure I would come across as hale, hearty and competent on my first impression to such an important dwarrowdam, and so I washed and groomed slightly more meticulously than usual, and even donned one of my more dwarven-inspired dresses.

And then I waited.

And waited…

And waited.

When evening fell I was a tad agitated. I had spent the entire day on the edge of my seat, ready at a moment's notice to leave, and therefore accomplished nothing else with my time. Bofur shrugged it off, commenting that there was no guarantee it was to be an immediate summons. I went to bed in a foul mood, feeling like my day had been wasted, especially considering I actually had felt quite good otherwise and so my desire to even see the healer had lessened considerably.

The following day I had even more energy, and was convinced that I would actually be scorned for wasting the healer's time, for she would likely do a quick exam, proclaim I was absolutely fine and then wonder why I was even in her esteemed presence at all. I mentioned this to Bofur, idly suggesting that we should ask Dain to reconsider, but he assured me that it would be more of a bother at this point to go against the King's request.

Again the morning passed with no interruptions, and by midday I had still not received a summons. I then, rather reluctantly, decided to try to be productive with my time so I wouldn't feel so irritated if another whole afternoon passed without any word on when I was to be seen. I gathered up a bunch of my papers that were scattered about and took over our small dining table. I was halfway through editing the final draft of my first official report when Bofur ambled over from his workbench to see how I was doing. He tried to read over my shoulder and I folded the parchment over to shield it from him.

"It's not ready yet." I scolded self-consciously, but he simply shrugged and leaned across me to set his own project down on the table for me to appraise. A tiny wooden bird peered back up at me, it's head cocked slightly to one side as if considering me carefully.

"You're getting quite talented, husband." I commended as I tilted my head back to smile up at him. His lips turned into mine and placed a fond kiss.

"I can't take all the credit." he admitted as he straightened up and nodded back towards his workbench. "The tools from Harrick are a masterwork of their own. If he wasn't such a determined bachelor I'd be hard pressed to gift him something of similar value at his wedding."

"I'm sure you would think of something." I urged, then looked back to my own work.

Sensing I was distracted, Bofur retrieved his hat from the bedroom, calling out to me as he did. "I'm off to fetch a fresh meal, would you like me to bring you something?"

"Yes please." I requested absentmindedly, but then had a thought and called out for him before he could leave. "Would it be too much trouble for you to bring a letter to Méra?" I asked, pulling out a piece of fresh parchment and beginning to pen a quick correspondence. I was feeling quite myself again, though the anxiety of waiting around was causing a tension to grow throughout my body. I wondered if Méra would indulge me in a quick sparring session that evening so I could rid myself of some pent-up and unwanted energy.

"I could…" Bofur stopped and made his way back towards me. "Easier to just drop it at the nearest post-station though. A runner could deliver it far more efficiently."

I had almost forgotten that in preparation for the arrival of the dwarves from the Blue Mountains (which nearly doubled the mountain's population), a great many dwarves had been employed to ensure seamless communication throughout Erebor, much the same as with any large town or city. I folded the letter and wrote the name of its recipient on it. "You dwarves really are industrious, you know, running mail delivery inside a mountain of all places." I passed him the letter and then hurried over to our bedroom, where I retrieved my coin pouch. The post worked on an honour system at this stage in its development; you left your letter on one of a number of larger pedestals now set up throughout the kingdom and simply placed your fare in a jug that sat beneath it to pay for the runner to deliver your message.

"How much will I owe?" I asked as I returned, fishing out one of the gold coins and holding it out to him in question.

Bofur looked between me and the coin incredulously, before raising his eyebrows. "I see I'm going to need to send Gloin up to have a little chat with you…" he said cautiously, then produced an unremarkable copper penny. "It's a delicate balance, you know, trying to reform our economy while Erebor itself still sits on such a horde that could likely render gold all but useless hereabouts - unless the utmost care is taken to keep most of the wealth contained that is. Can't have you accidentally giving out such large sums… the postal service will likely only bring in profits equal to a dozen or so gold coins a month."

I bit my lip in slight embarrassment. "Well, you didn't give me anything smaller…" I retorted. "Do you want to split this for me then?" I brandished the gold coin towards him once more.

Bofur laughed but shook his head. "Tell you what, lass, I'll just put out a bowl full of pennies you can use at your leisure. Save your gold for now."

I smiled in thanks, but then felt a new welling of curiosity begin to surface in regards to our personal net worth and the state of our budget. Were we, in fact, somewhat wealthy? Bofur had not yet openly discussed with me the full terms of the settlement he received for being a contracted member of the Company of Thorin. Yet I had not bothered to directly ask either, for I knew, in human culture at least, that it was not typically the prerogative of a married woman to be overly involved with the financial affairs of the house... this was not the world of men however.

"Bofur, how much, exactly, do you… have... for being part of the Company?" I enquired tentatively before he could make his departure.

"I've got a wife whom I adore, a home and community that embraces me, a new sense of purpose, and all the beer I can drink." he exclaimed cheerily without missing a beat, but I narrowed my eyes and prodded a finger into his chest.

"You know what I mean, smooth talker. If I've lucked into marrying a secret wealthy benefactor, I would have you tell me."

Bofur flashed a toothy grin full of mock humility, opening his mouth to no doubt theatrically downplay his status.

"Or," I continued primly before he could respond, "…if we should be careful with our indulgences, I believe I should also be made aware."

"We are… comfortable, I'd say, for now anyway." Bofur explained as he tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "We did indeed receive a generous payout - though these lofty quarters, with a view at that, well that was a larger investment. I'd be a poor dwarf if I didn't leave a healthy sum tucked away for a rainy day though…"

I still must have seemed apprehensive, so he looked at me more seriously. "Now I'm the one to pry - but surely you shouldn't have to worry about any of that - you're bound to have enough back-pay in your account to cover anything your heart could possibly desire, anything I haven't already thought of, of course!"

"My account…?" I asked dumbfoundedly.

Bofur stared at me pointedly, unsure where the confusion lay, but when I remained wholly in the dark he frowned, then uttered something under his breath in Khuzdul before carrying on in common. "Blasted bankers! Should have known they'd be dragging their feet. I had thought Gloin of all people... Well, there's nothing for it now. I'll go speak with him."

I regained my seat but still looked up at Bofur with puzzlement.

"You were employed by Erebor, there's no such thing as volunteering with such great wealth at our disposal. An account with all your earnings was opened the day you married me and became a citizen. Someone should have set up an appointment with you by now to go over your payments - for your past work, and also to discuss your new wage as an ambassador - which should be considerably higher, I'd wager."

I nodded thoughtfully to myself, processing the information slowly. A part of me suspected the bankers were taking advantage of my human naïveté, which irked me more than I could say, especially in the wake of my health being at the forefront of mountain politics. If I was to be seen as a full citizen of Erebor, an ambassador to the dwarven people, and a woman worthy of the same respect given to any strong, independent dwarrowdam, it was high time I stopped letting Bofur do all the talking for me and started learning what being a citizen actually entailed.

"I'll tell you what." I decided then and there. "As soon as this whole health debacle is sorted out, I'll arrange to meet with Gloin myself. He can get my affairs in order and explain the basics of our economy, so I don't go making a fool of myself with my newfound wealth."

"That sounds like a fine idea!" Bofur agreed cheerily.

"Speaking of wealth," I asked in a bit of a carry-over to appease my own curiosity. "…whatever did happen to the endless piles of gold we waded through before the battle?"

Bofur thought for a moment. "During the days following the battle, when we were mostly in our rooms, Dain had a regiment of his soldiers bring everything down to even lower levels post haste - no trifle matter to be sure, but they were running cartloads nonstop, it was a bit chaotic from what I remember, and I don't envy those that were assigned to sort it all out after it was moved. Then, the way I heard it, as soon as the forges were lit most of the gold was melted down and poured into molds to make huge bricks of the stuff, and then quietly sealed in a vault very very deep inside the mountain, one I don't reckon will be opened anytime in the next few centuries… should also be tucked away enough now that the drakes won't be able to sniff it out. I'd imagine the rest, along with the silver and copper, is still being counted to this very day and paid out to the general population as wages. You'd have to ask Gloin about the nitty gritty when you meet with him, if you're still curious. I stopped paying attention after a while, as I tend to do when he talks…"

Seeing I was satisfied with his answer, Bofur took that as his cue to finally leave me to the task at hand. "On that note, I'm off. I'll see you in a little while, and if I run across our esteemed banker, I'll tell him to expect a message from you." He leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead. "I'm proud of you." he said genuinely, then straightened and turned to saunter away, calling back as he did. "Don't work too hard!"

"Fare thee well husband." I replied drolly, then remembered the request that set us down the whole talk of finances in the first place. "Oh! Don't forget to mail my letter!"

A few hours later I finally heard a knock on the door and rushed to open it, now more than ready to go see the notorious healer and get the whole business over with. A runner held out a sealed scroll for me and I hastily tore it open in front of him - half expecting he might be required to lead me right to the infirmary. Instead I recognized Méra's handwriting and felt instantly deflated - even more so after I read her reply.

I needn't have to remind you that you shall remain in your rooms until you receive the summons from our healer.

Also, of course we shan't be practicing at all until you are fully well again.

~M.

I thanked the dwarf rather glumly so that he might be on his way and retreated back into my chambers. Méra's rather tort response left me feeling even more listless than before, especially since Bofur had not yet returned either. I fussed about the rooms for a few minutes, haphazardly tidying here and there, but then tried to simply settle down with a book. It seemed like nothing I did, however, could immerse me well enough to stave off the worriment that comes with anticipating something unknown.

When another loud knock at the door finally broke the sludging passing of the late afternoon, I all but sighed with relief. I really was terrible at waiting. I stood up and straightened my dress, then headed to open the door, a tension leaving my body as I did so knowing the suspense was finally broken. I was therefore caught somewhat surprised when instead of a lone dwarf holding out a scroll, I opened the door to see a number of familiar faces, first of foremost being Méra's.

"Thought since I told you to stay put, the least I could do was bring you up a spot of dinner, and a wee bit of company to pass the time." she announced happily, quickly brushing past me and beckoning her companions in, many of which were laden with a large dish or two of food.

I stood back, sensing I would just be in the way, as Baz, Darus, Oín, Dori and Ori trooped inside and began settling in, rearranging a few pieces of furniture in order to best lay out the food and subsequently sit in a circle to enjoy it.

"Truth is," Méra continued, coming over to stand beside me, "I don't know if you'll be summoned today, or tomorrow… perhaps not even this week. It's anyone's guess really! She's not one to be rushed, unless it's an emergency of course."

I frowned. "It seems silly for me to have to wait here the whole time. Surely a runner could find me if I went out - perhaps I could leave a note on the door of where I would be going?"

Méra ignored the desperation in my voice and simply waved her hand dismissively. "Just to be safe, it's best you stay put so you're not late to her summons. She's not one to be rushed, but she's also not one to be kept waiting, and doesn't take kindly to anyone who wastes her time. Besides, you should just be enjoying the guilt-free days off with your new husband."

"Hah, if only I knew where he was." I remarked, remembering that he had promised to bring me back a meal quite some time ago. Though I now hoped he had genuinely forgotten since it appeared I would not be lacking in selection or abundance.

"If it turns out you're dying, can I have your desk?" Darus quipped suddenly, straightening up and shooting us a glance after putting the garnishes on a bafflingly ornate torte of some kind.

Baz frowned and turned to face our socially uncouth co-worker before I could think of a fitting response. "Darus, that's a bit rude." he pointed out matter-of-factly.

"I've dealt with orcs more diplomatic than that." Dori tutted to Ori in agreement. "Aren't they supposed to be skilled negotiators?"

"Only when I'm on the job." Darus assured them both with a wink before shooting a more scathing look at Baz, though clearly it wasn't the first time he'd been called out in public for his behaviour. The room quieted, Baz held his gaze pointedly, and eventually Darus rolled his eyes. "Fine, you're right…" he relented, stepping forward and patting my arm in a semi-comforting manner, yet when he next spoke he was still looking at Baz. "If she is dying, would anyone be opposed to me taking her desk?"

Baz sat slack-jawed in disbelief that Darus had missed the mark again, and everyone remained in the awkward silence until I noticed Oín looking to catch my eye. The old dwarf tapped his nose, and then spoke up as he often tended to do in tense conversations.

"It must be an awfully nice vest, though I can't say I've ever seen it myself." he uttered in an idle manner, breaking the terse moment immediately. I then began to wonder if the old healer was actually as deaf as everyone thought, or if he simply feigned hearing certain words incorrectly in order to cleverly diffuse otherwise awkward situations.

"Oh, if there was a vest I had my eye on I wouldn't be asking her, let alone anyone else." Darus admitted, causing laughter and a return to good natured conversation once more. As the party carried on, Oín made his way over to me and gave me an officious nod, which I returned with a small smile.

"I'm sorry I hadn't checked in on you sooner after your journey, lass." he began, eyeing me up somewhat abashed. "Had I known you were feeling off…"

"I'm fine, really!" I urged, waving it off. "I think I've just gone a bit soft with all this fine company and comfort, is all." I explained, gesturing about the room. He seemed unconvinced, so I diverted the topic. "Truly, sending me to the Royal Healer is making mountains out of mole hills… would you happen to know anything about her? No one has told me anything at all really…" I looked at him hopefully, and saw his desire to be helpful in some way overcome any questions he might have about the symptoms that led to the whole kerfuffle in the first place.

"I do, though truth be told, it's been a great many years since I last met her." he admitted, to which my interest was actually piqued.

"You know her?"

"Oh aye." He nodded. "She has been practicing medicine for nearly as long as I've been alive. I even studied under her for a spell in the Blue Mountains, back when she was still fresh in her role tending to the Line of Durin. She came into the job quite young, but then, her mentor was a 'burned dwarf', as we say."

My questioning expression at his reference must have betrayed my ignorance, so he quickly explained. "Ah, one of the deceased in the battle that claimed the lives of a great many, including Thorin's grandfather, King Thrain."

I nodded, and began to understand all too well Thorin's hatred for orcs - I doubted there was a single dwarf alive who hadn't lost family to Azog and his wretched kin. I had little time to linger on past demons though, as Oín kept speaking and I wanted to glean anything I could from his past encounters.

"For her, medicine was her obsession, and teaching only an inconvenience to be administered like a quick dose of cod liver oil. Her work was her One, as they say. For me, it was always more of a hobby. It was no surprise I was never her favourite student." he reflected with a chuckle.

"Have you heard anything about her since?" I pried, desperate to know what I might be walking into when the summons finally did come.

The old healer shook his head and lowered himself down onto the couch, patting the spot alongside him. I joined him. "At such a young age, and with so much responsibility, she took the fall of Erebor worse than most. The dragon, the loss of the king, his son… she was powerless to save them, but she bore the weight of them all, as if the mountains themselves were about to come crumbling down upon her… I can only guess she's spent the last century solely devoted to protecting the health of Durin's living heirs. She hasn't taught en-mass in decades, that much I know, and only chose to mentor less than a handful of the best and brightest in recent years. Rumour has it she rarely even leaves her rooms, so the reason no one's told you much about what to expect is because no one knows. Aside from Dain, Dís is likely the only one alive who's had any dealing with her in recent memory, and even then there's a chance she's not even seen her since her boys were born."

I stared at Oín somewhat mortified as I was now absolutely certain that being ordered to see such a qualified but elusive dwarven dignitary would be a complete mockery of her time. Oín seemed to note my newfound anxiety and began to try to ease my worry, but before he could finish his thought, the door swung open unexpectedly, causing me to startle and my comrades to all halt their conversations and turn to face the intrusion.

Bofur paused mid-step over the threshold and looked around the room in surprise. Méra jumped up from her seat on one of the armchairs and flounced forward to grab his arm and tug him inside.

"Your wife was bored." she announced, kicking the door closed with her foot before leading him further into the makeshift party.

"My wife said she'd be working." he explained, raising a questioning eyebrow towards me. I simply shrugged and beckoned him over. Méra and Oín gave us some space, and I passed him a wooden plate with a piece of torte on it.

"Darus made this, I think - it's quite good." I appraised, then dropped my voice a little. "Where did you go? I thought you were bringing me something to eat?"

Bofur paused mid-bite, closed his eyes in a pained expression, then looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry love, after mailing the letter became such a talking point, I completely forgot about the food… I think I'm becoming my brother - Melvna always says she can't ever ask him to do more than one thing at once."

"I think that's all dwarven men." Darus chirped from where he was eavesdropping, glancing back at Baz. "The best thing to do is to guilt him into making it up to you in all the right ways…" He said it innocently enough, but a small twist at the corner of his mouth suggested he might be alluding to something of a more provocative nature. Then, before we could read too much into it, he asked Bofur sweetly "How's the cake?" leaving my husband no choice but to sample the delicacy, and immediately tilt his head and nod.

"Delicious." he admitted, which satisfied our interloper and sent him off to bother someone else. I leaned in close to ensure that this time we wouldn't be interrupted, then murmured to him alluringly:

"Finish your cake and enjoy the company, but when everyone leaves I may just have you find those 'right ways' to make it up to me."

The party continued on well into the evening, and so Bofur's penance was delayed for the time being. I brought out the last of our fine elvish wine, though I abstained from drinking myself. Bofur showed off a few of his latest projects, Baz and I chatted on the balcony for a while about my report, and when we returned the more talented musicians played a few tunes together, with Dori and Ori even coaching me on the choruses of a few khuzdul drinking and marching songs.

In the later hours of the night after a lengthy silence following a particularly energetic bout of singing, as the candles burned low and the embers beyond the fire's hearth set shadows across the faces gathered there, the mood was perfect for losing oneself in memories of times gone by.

Out of this silence Bofur began to hum a low and melancholy tune, and he was joined by several others after only the first few notes. Thus, with the melody established, Bofur sung a song I had only ever heard tell of from Bilbo - the fabled misty mountain lament that had woken in him the desire to see the world beyond his books and maps. The remaining members of the Company joined in the singing after the first verse, but the others only hummed, and all were deep and truly lost in their own thoughts. I listened in perfect stillness, spellbound and transfixed on watching Bofur as goosebumps rose across my skin, and the raw emotion that played across his face threatened to overwhelm me.

When the song finally ended, I took a deep breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, and everyone sat in silence for a long moment more.

Méra was the first to shift, sniffing slightly and lifting a hand subtly to the corner of one eye. She then rose, walking over to me and giving me a hug about the shoulders where I sat. "I'm sure it won't be long now, then everything will be right as rain." she spoke softly, but then smirked. "Don't think I'll go easy on you just 'cause you've had some time without a sword in your hand." With that she made her farewells and left.

"So heartless." Darus quipped, and I rose now to hug him as well, nodding at Baz as he clasped a hand on my shoulder after his partner backed away. Dori and Ori said their goodbyes as well, and finally Oín clasped my two hands in his.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more assistance. Durin knows what she'll say to you in there, lass, but I'd gladly offer my services for whatever follow-up care you might require." I smiled and thanked him, and with that he too departed.

We put off most of the tidying and let the candles burn out, making our way to the bedroom by the last dying light of the fire. Bofur seemed somewhat reluctant to proceed as I had intended, and stood silhouetted not far into the doorway. Whether he was concerned for my own health, or felt he didn't deserve to be a part of the enjoyment after abandoning me earlier in the day, I was left to gently coax him into repaying me for lost time. I took his hands in mine and guided one up to cup my breast over my shirt, moving his other to my hip. Then, I wrapped my own hands around him and guided him towards the bed, gazing into where I knew his eyes to be and allowing an unseen smile to play across my lips. I felt the mattress against the back of my legs and leaned into the kiss I could tell he wanted to give me. When our lips finally met, his hands began to wander, and I found I was far from bored.

We were interrupted by the heavy sound of knocking on the apartment door.

"If someone's forgotten something they can come get it tomorrow." Bofur argued, but I pulled away with the promise that I would return promptly.

"They all came by at a moment's notice, the least I can do is return someone's serving platter and save them a walk tomorrow…" I observed as I lit a candle and used it to light my path through the dark common room. I unlocked the door and opened it wide to come face to face with an empty hallway. I peered down in each direction, and was about to return to my willing husband when I saw it.

A scroll sat neatly rolled and sealed on the pedestal outside our door.

I returned inside and let the door swing closed behind me, placed the candle in one of the now empty wall sconces, and broke the seal to unroll and read.

The Healer of the Line of Durin requires your presence on the morrow.

Be prepared for escort promptly at the eleventh hour.

Bofur came to see what was taking so long, and read the scroll as well, and then put his arms around me, guiding me back to the bedroom and into his loving and gentle embrace, tending to me in all the ways that I had grown fond of and making sure to keep my mind well off of the next day's events.

Still, after all his efforts, I was awake long after he drifted to sleep, and when I did finally succumb it was fitful and unsatisfying.

Bofur gently prodded me awake the next morning but I simply groaned and turned over, covering my head with the blankets as I did so.

"Alright alright, lass, how about I just go prepare breakfast and leave you be for another few minutes."

"Another hour." I murmured, though I could already tell my body wasn't going to give me even the few minutes - the room was too stuffy and the air too hot on my face, I needed a drink, and the blankets were all twisted, all over and above the actual stress of the upcoming day of course.

Begrudgingly I forced myself out of bed, drained my bedside water cup and then used a cloth to dab some cool water on my face and neck, which fortunately helped revive me more than Bofur's prior efforts had. I found him setting out plates with the last of our maple sausages and fresh eggs cooked up, along with some toasted slices off a loaf of bread that was well on its way to going stale if it didn't get eaten up. It was the first time we had such a breakfast that the smell alone didn't have my mouth watering, but before I could address the food a thought leapt to my mind.

"Quick," I said to Bofur, smiling as he turned to greet me, "were you thinking in common or Khuzdul?"

"Khuzdul I suppose." he answered with a grin, "When I'm alone at any rate… and around other dwarves speaking it too, I imagine. Though now that I'm talking with you, when I think of what to say next it's just in common, believe it or not." His eyebrows had shot up as if it was a revelation even to himself. "Guess it's just easier to do a complete switch in my head, rather than translating moment to moment."

"I can't really imagine knowing more than the one language..." I shook my head, feeling that I didn't even have mastery over my own language, and that the few bits of Khuzdul I was picking up were all just haphazard, one-word translations never destined never to be joined together into any semblance of order. I abandoned the topic as I approached the table and looked it over with some trepidation.

"Bofur, this looks lovely, but I don't even know if I'm all that hungry." I admitted with a small grimace.

"Too bad." he retorted with an odd firmness in his voice that gave me pause for thought. "Sit and eat what you can. I'm not sending you off today with an empty stomach, especially as you'll likely miss lunch too."

"Hobbits would never stand for booking an appointment over lunch…" I agreed moodily, taking his advice and at least going for a piece of heavily buttered toast.

"This one's cutting into elevenses too." Bofur observed, currently approaching his meal with far more abandon than I. "On the bright side," he thought aloud after finishing a bite off a sausage skewered on his fork. "…you can always make up for it at second breakfast, afternoon tea, dinner or supper if you're inclined."

I smiled at him and helped myself to a little more food right then, feeling suddenly hungrier than I expected after managing to get down the first few bites.

After breakfast there was still a few hours remaining before the escort was to arrive for me, and so I tried to keep my mind occupied leading up to when I would need to get ready; I helped Bofur clear the dishes, organized our kitchen a bit better (now that many of the consumable gifts from the wedding had been dealt with), watered my plant, and even swept around Bofur's workbench, and with all that done I had taken up a grand total of… less time than it took Bofur to finish smoking a bowl of pipeweed (though he was apparently quite good at it, "even better than Bilbo" he bragged, self proclaimed of course, and could take a good half an hour to enjoy the process).

I knew attempting to get any actual work done would be fruitless, so I didn't even try. Instead, I decided to simply get comfortable and slip into the bath, where I could rehearse answers for any questions I thought might be asked of me. After a few minutes I heard Bofur start up a melody on his new silver whistle. The tune was slightly muffled and faint coming through the door, but still I smiled to myself, for it had been some time since I had last heard him play. Music, good music, had been a rare luxury for me in recent years, and I realized then just how much I appreciated having Bofur's talent at my disposal. I would have to encourage him to play more frequently, as the thought of having such light, pleasant melodies backdropping our time together in our quarters filled me with an excited joy. My smile broadened when the bathroom door clicked open, and suddenly my bathing chamber was filled with the crisp, clear notes of a lively song as Bofur sidled in. He shot me a quick wink, and then settled onto the bench, never missing a beat as he did so.

I relaxed fully in the water until the tune ended and then beamed at him in gratitude for the unexpected serenade.

"Shall I tell Méra you're happy with her gift?" I asked cheerfully, reaching for my nearby towel.

"This whistle is a breath o' fresh air compared to my old wooden one," Bofur agreed happily as I wrapped myself with the towel and padded up to him. "Quite literally really," he continued as he carefully set his instrument down on the bench beside him, "the last one warped on the journey here, so much that it was getting hard to even blow through, plus I could never get it back in tune."

I grinned, coming to rest between his legs then draped my arms over his shoulders. "Well I hope you make good use of it, I love hearing you play."

His hands found their way to my waist and he shifted me slightly, guiding me down to sit on his leg. I smiled, keeping one arm about his neck and enjoying the sensation as he began to slowly trail his fingers up over my one knee and along the top of my thigh. When he came to the hem of the towel and proceeded to try to get under it, I stilled his hand with my own.

"That will have to wait until later." I chided gently.

"Oh, come now…" he countered sultrily, his fingers trying again along the same approach, and admittedly making it a bit further before I stopped him. "Can't a husband just enjoy touching his wife now and again? It doesn't have to lead to that…"

I bit my lip, finding it hard to resist his temptations. "Fine, but you're only torturing yourself, you know." I warned him cheekily as I released his hands to do what they may before pressing my lips to his in an enthusiastic kiss.

After being thoroughly roved upon, I managed to garner enough self-control to break away and pulled myself up out of his lap, which had been growing increasingly uncomfortable anyways as his body anticipated a payoff that would never come. I secured my towel, which had been just barely hanging on, and then smiled down at him rather breathlessly.

"Well I hope you're pleased with yourself." I scolded, glancing down at his evident arousal. I then eyed him up pointedly, trying not to laugh. "I'm going to get dressed now. How about you put those busy hands of yours to work and fix up my hair… or do you need a few minutes alone in here?"

"Oh please," he drawled with a grin, "I'm not some pent-up adolescent… and you know it takes longer than just a few minutes."

I stifled a laugh and turned to leave. "That's not what happened last time you let me be on top." I reminded him, wandering through towards the bedroom with him trailing in my wake.

"That was an extenuating circumstance!" he countered. "You trying on those damned elvish leggings, wandering about without a top on all afternoon. They've got shite taste, but on you, anything that tight is irresistible."

"What? No, I had a housecoat on." I recalled with a smirk as I began dressing.

"You left it unfastened on purpose, don't deny it." Bofur accused teasingly, grabbing me by the waist once more and pulling me flush against him.

"Later!" I promised with a laugh after he placed a brisk kiss on my neck.

"Fine, fine, I'll behave." he relinquished, and then helped finish lacing my dress before steering me towards the chair. "Sit. Your hair really is a piece of work right now."

"Don't be rude just because you got yourself into this whole mess, I did warn you." I tutted, tongue in cheek, as he began untangling my damp locks.

"Rude? Me? Never!" he pronounced in a happier voice to prove it. "I'm going to redo your braid today too." he added thoughtfully a moment later, handing me the clasp to hold onto as his fingers worked to loosen it all.

He sang a funny drinking song as he worked, and eventually he could run a comb through the whole thing without hitting a snag. Soon thereafter I had a fresh, neat marital braid and clean, smooth hair otherwise. He finished up just in the nick of time, as we then both turned to the noise of a sharp rap on the outer door.

"Eleven already?" I asked, standing up and quickly inspecting his work.

"Aye, on the dot actually." Bofur replied, then he ushered me out of the bedroom and towards the exit.

After waiting for well over two days I had talked myself into doing this a hundred times, and yet still I looked back to Bofur in a moment of hesitancy, my hand lingering above the doorknob. He simply tilted his head to one side and squinted one eye with mock severity, the ghost of a grin on his face. No, I would never live it down if I refused now. Like a petulant teenager I huffed and resolved myself. Bofur smiled genuinely then, and reached a hand out to squeeze my free one. I smiled a small nervous smile back - if I was fine, as I thought myself to be, what had I to fear?

I opened the door and was confronted by a plain robed dwarrowdam - without a doubt the least flashy female I had ever seen in Erebor (not counting my own reflection). Her age was hard to gauge, partially concealed as she was by the hood of her cloak, but as I sized up this acolyte of the mysterious dwarven healer, I placed her at older than Oín, though how much older was anyone's guess.

She looked me over as well, and then spoke my name as if to confirm she was in the right place, to which I had to keep myself from immediately making a bad impression by scoffing immaturely ('no, sorry, it's the other human woman you're looking for, she's just down the hall'). Instead I simply nodded my head, and that was enough for the dam, who beckoned me to follow and then strode off through the mountain.

Bofur stepped closer to me and placed a hand on my back, which lingered there in comfort for a moment before he gave me a gentle push forward out the door.

"Go on." he whispered encouragingly, and so I nodded once more then set off to follow the acolyte.

We moved at a brisk pace on a route that avoided the main thoroughfares and which was, if anything, even more remote than my usual shortcuts through the mountain. It stood to reason that anyone seeing Dain's Healer would value their privacy, and being seen with one of her students would start the gossip mill spinning at a feverish pace. To her credit, the dwarrowdam I was following maintained this privacy to an impressive degree, displaying a knowledge of the mountain that left me awestruck and lost beyond hope. Taking only what seemed to be a few detours, we managed to avoid passing even a single dwarf at close proximity, and even more impressive was our arrival at our intended destination precisely as the noon bell tolled from distant chambers, leaving me with only a moment to marvel at the stonework in that particular part of Erebor.

It reminded me of the caves Bofur had led me to on our engagement - worn by age to such a degree that a non-dwarven passerby might mistake it for a natural feature, had it not kept the rough shape of a squared off passageway. The floor was worn down the center from possibly aeons of use, and what carvings remained here were done in similar style to the glowing runic lettering I witnessed in other parts of the mountain with strong ceremonial meaning, though the feeling of magic here, if any, was so faint that I suspected I just imagined it.

I steeled myself, and then looked to my guide, who opened the heavy door before me and ushered me through.

We entered a small room that was more brightly lit than any other I'd yet seen in Erebor. I looked up in awe at the source of the light, and instead of a smooth stone ceiling, there was instead a vast circular tunnel that bore straight up - no, it was rougher than that, as if a natural shaft rose right up from the heart of the mountain. It was almost dizzying to behold, for it was such a distance that you suddenly became aware of the sheer amount of rock you were standing beneath, but at its end was a bright ring of pure skylight - amplified by a perfectly fitted slab of crystal so as to block out the elements and strengthen the sun's rays.

In the very centre of the room sat a very stout, sturdy table carved up from the flooring itself - which gave me the impression that the room had been simply hewn out from around the initial design of the table. It wasn't a huge space otherwise, though despite its circular nature it was being used to its fullest potential. There was a large basin full of steaming water off to the left of the door, and to the right a set of long curving shelves filled with jars of herbs, tonics, ingredients, the odd book, and baskets of different instruments and tools. Before I could do any more surveying, however, the acolyte turned to face me.

"Undress, then sit. She will be here soon. Do not speak to her. Just follow my instructions. Understand?"

I nodded, caught somewhat off guard by her brusque orders. With some hesitation I disrobed, then made my way to the table (which I now realized was used as an examination bed). The acolyte had since placed a blanket upon it, for which I was thankful as I didn't relish the idea of sitting my bare bottom on such cold stone when I was already stifling a shiver from feeling the bite of the cool mountain air against my exposed skin.

I had just sat down when a side door creaked open. My perception, based on the whole experience thus far, led me to believe that this dwarf was held at an esteem even above nobility, and so rather than turn to stare (like I so desperately desired to), I kept my gaze forward and slightly cast down while sitting up as straight as I could.

Eventually I saw the bottom of her robe enter my field of vision and she came to a slow stop before me. She remained silent, and so I remained still.

"You may look at her." The acolyte's voice finally cut through the quiet room.

Slowly I cast my eyes up, and met those of the most interesting dam, no, the most interesting person, I had ever seen (which was saying a lot since I was acquainted with the likes of Bifur, Radagast, and Beorn - to name just a few).

Her skin was a striking terra cotta colouration, so pleated with wrinkles that it gave off the impression of creased, well-worn leather. Her hair, in wonderful contrast to her strangely tanned complexion, was luminously white of the purest form, and peculiarly smooth for a dwarf - it hung in a shiny, neat braid down along one side of her neck, yet was so long it ended well below her waistline. And her eyes… for though her age was showcased in the lines of her face, her hazel eyes were so bright and clear that if you focused solely on them, you might begin to believe you were looking into those of a youth. The beguilement I felt was only part of the complex duality of her nature, for she was also intimidating in ways I could not quite put my finger on. Perhaps because, even though she also just wore a simple linen robe and adorned herself with no jewellery at all, she still bore herself in such a way that made it clear she had a level of skill far beyond most (and a skill that was so highly important at that)… or perhaps it was simply because the corners of her mouth were turned down in an impatient frown as she studied my own face, and so my fear over being thoroughly scolded for wasting her time at all was suddenly amplified.

"Stand and list your symptoms." the acolyte prompted. I got to my feet and could smell a very peppery scent of herbs wafting off the healer's garments as she approached me.

I cleared my throat lightly and then began trying to recount the strange ailments that I'd been recently plagued with while the healer looked me up and down. "Light-headedness, nausea - but not all the time, exhaustion… um, I sometimes get dizzy, and I've fainted a few times more recently, which hasn't ever really happened before…" I trailed off as the healer placed a hand on my forehead. She quickly removed it and then pressed her ear against my chest, and so I took that as a cue to take a few deep breaths. When she removed it, she tilted her head and looked at my breasts more critically - which caused my cheeks to warm up in embarrassment. Surely she was thinking how oddly small they were compared to all the dams she'd examined throughout her long years of her trade. Suddenly, however, she grabbed both of them in a firm grip, causing me to yelp inadvertently at the surprise pain. She released them after a moment and stepped back, her expression still unreadable, but I noticed her flicker her hand, ever so subtly - Iglishmek no doubt, as then her acolyte spoke up once more.

"Please lie back on the bed, knees bent."

I obeyed without question and the healer came forward and began pressing around my stomach with the palm of her hand. I thought to myself that the whole process was a stone's throw more invasive than I was expecting - and that was before she reached down a hand and inserted her fingers inside of me. I gasped and tensed immediately, causing the healer to still her movements. She looked up at me with questioning eyes until I got control of myself and then I nodded for her to continue. Her internal exam was, fortunately, over quickly, as it had been somewhat painful to endure. She stepped back and accepted a cloth to wipe her hand, then she left the room without another word, or even a backward glance.

Confused, I looked at the acolyte who simply ordered me to get dressed. When I was through, I stood wringing my hands and watching the door the healer had disappeared behind, waiting for her to return to finish the exam.

"You're done here." the acolyte announced from behind me. I spun around and looked at her in confusion.

"Does- does she need to see me again later?" I asked dumbly, for it had barely been ten minutes since I'd arrived.

"No."

I frowned. "Well… does she know if anything is wrong?" I felt like I was overstepping my bounds by questioning her, but wished the acolyte would be more forthcoming since this was my appointment after all. "Will she send a letter, or… does she not know-"

"You're pregnant."

The acolyte's words cut through my own with such firm surety that I was left gaping at her with an open mouth. When my shock at such an outlandish interruption subsided, I laughed. Not a mirthful, happy laugh, but one of bitter amusement that rent through the awkward quiet of the room and quickly fell away, leaving an even heavier silence in its wake.

"That's impossible." I replied after a moment, with just as much surety.

The acolyte eyed me with condescension. "The healer is not wrong. She never has been, and never will be, wrong in her diagnosis."

I smiled, again it was not a happy expression, but one of strained politeness. "She is wrong this time, I'm afraid. I cannot be pregnant. It's just not possible."

"When was your last cycle?" The acolyte questioned, her words becoming more and more clipped.

I thought for a moment, I couldn't quite remember in truth, but that meant nothing. "They've never been regular." I replied, waving my hand dismissively. The later part of my adolescence and early adulthood was spent with such inconsistent nutrition, paired with high stress situations, so it was not abnormal for me to sometimes skip a few months, a trend that became even more pronounced leading up to and following my flight from Bree.

"And how old are you?" the acolyte then asked.

"Twenty-five, but I can't see how that matters." I responded with a frown.

The acolyte nodded sagely and then met my eye once more. Her words were unwavering and her voice was stern, borderline angry. "Tell me, in your twenty-five years, you truly feel justified questioning the word of a noble healer that has been practicing medicine for over seven generations of your kin?" I opened my mouth to plead my case further but her admonishment continued. "She has diagnosed more pregnancies in her lifetime, delivered more bairns, than you have had days on this earth, and not a single patient has doubted the truth of her word."

I was wholly taken aback, clearly confused and struggling to make sense of anything at this point. I must have looked wholly and utterly defeated, because the dwarrowdam sniffed indignantly, held her silence for a time, before finally deflating and regaining some of her composure.

"My dear, it was not an educated guess on her part. There are certain things that change when a woman is with child, externally and internally, and they are always the same, for all women. She can sense them, feel them, see and smell them, even the smallest of things, and even very early on. You are human, and no doubt new to trusting the word of someone who has been on this earth over ten times as long as you have, so I will not hold your questioning against you, nor will I report it to anyone." She grimaced slightly and began to fold up the blanket she had placed over the stone plinth. "After a century of studying under the healer, nothing surprises me anymore, but this - a human sent to us, and a pregnant one at that, well that's a wonder." She continued to tidy here and there, but when I still didn't leave she came to me and placed a hand on my arm. "Do yourself a favour, lassie - listen to your body, now that you know what to listen for. I think you'll find that the strongest diagnosis of all." With that, she turned and left the room as well, leaving me all alone under the open sky.

Or perhaps not alone after all.