A/N: This was one of my favorite chapters to rewrite so far; it has some of my favorite scenes from the original fic in it: Bifur visited the Ur Mansion and the lye burn scene~

"Bifur? Biiifuuur…C'mon, Bifur, time t' get up, lad!"

Grumbling, Bifur rolled over in the bed and pulled the blankets up and over his head. He did his best to ignore his cousin as he crawled onto the bed and began to shake him, but Bofur was persistent. It was one of his more annoying traits at times.

"Alright, alright!" He shoved Bofur away, hearing a small thud as he toppled to the floor. Normally, he would have asked him if he was alright, but by the time he sat up to do such, Bofur was already back on his feet, wearing a big grin. "What's got you grinnin' so big?" he questioned before yawning.

"Nothin'. It's just a good mornin'," Bofur replied. "Though, I do have a wee lil' favor t' ask of you."

Bifur gave him a bland look. "I knew there was some reason why you were wakin' me up so enthusiastically," he said before yawning a second time. "What is it?"

"Could you go t' Erebor today t' pick us up a few more supplies?" He moved to sit on his own bed, which was across the room from Bifur's. "An' maybe let Bombur an' Gerdi know what's been goin' on?"

"What kind o' supplies? Building supplies, clothin' supplies…?" Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he reached over to the little nightstand and grabbed his comb.

"Both, actually. We're nearly out o' nails an' we're going to need some good saws…maybe start lookin' around for good glass or windowmakers…" He rubbed the side of his neck as he watched Bifur comb through his black-and-white beard. "You know I'm not very good when it comes t' bartering for those sorts of things. Only things I'm good at bartering for are metals, weapons, an' jewels." He chuckled.

Bifur's brow rose. "Not true. You're also good with bargaining when it comes t' food an' furs."

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "The furs are only because o' you. You taught me how t' tell the difference between a well-tanned hide and a poor one." Shaking his head, he chuckled. "So…you'll go, then?"

"Aye, I'll go. I've been wantin' to see our badgers anyway. Not t' mention, find out if Gerdi's finally given birth. The poor thing looked ready to burst when we left and that was two weeks ago." His brows furrowed slightly as he started to untangle a particularly nasty knot near the center of his beard. "Though, I'm a bit curious as t' why you're not wanting to come with."

Bofur shrugged. "I thought I'd ask Ori about commissionin' a sign design from him today," he explained, "and help Will patch up the wall a bit." As he spoke, he grabbed the bag that contained his clothes and started to sort through it. "You know, small jobs. We've done so much big work the last couple o' weeks, we could all use an easy day." He threw some shirts onto the floor along with two pairs of pants.

"What're you doing that for?" His brow rose; he had forgotten about it being laundry day.

"…So the lasses can wash our clothes?" Bofur replied, his brows furrowing slightly. "Did ya forget what Miss Baylee said yesterday?"

Feeling his cheeks go a bit pink with embarrassment, he nodded. "Aye, I suppose I did…How many silvers did they say again? Four per occupant?"

"Five. Ori's already left his clothes an' coin, by the way, so you don't have t' worry about him." He tossed some socks onto his pile before topping it off with both his vests. Seeing the size of the pile, he rubbed the back of his neck; he looked across the room and saw that Ori's pile was much smaller. It was just two tunics, two pairs of trousers, and a few socks. "I'm wonderin' if maybe we should leave a bit extra…you an' me are going t' have quite a bit o' clothing for them to wash."

Bifur nodded in agreement. "That'd be a good idea, actually. The question is how to leave out the extra coin and them actually take it. We both know by now that they're not the types who'd accept that sort o' thing."

At that, Bofur grinned. "Oh, that's easy enough. We leave 'em a gold piece or two an' write a little note tellin' them to keep the change."

"Well, let's hope they actually keep the change, then!"

Nearly two hours later found Bifur riding his pony through the streets of Erebor. With the day still being quite young, the streets were almost empty; only merchants, children, and nightshift miners were wandering about. Whenever he saw someone he recognized, he'd give a polite nod and wave to them.

Soon enough, he found himself riding along a smooth, almost black street. The marble had been inlaid with golden geometric figures that crisscrossed over one another in intricate patterns. It was familiar to him; he had walked and ridden this path almost every day for eight years.

The designs led him around a corner, where they morphed into a different pattern. Both he and the pattern continued going straight for a little while longer before making a left down a side street. There was no pattern here, but he didn't mind: The large, wooden door at the end of the road was decorated more than enough to make up for the plain street.

A warm smile came to his lips as he looked at the large wooden door. It had been stained with a dark finish, but gold and silver wire ran across its surface, mimicking the figures on the street. It was set into a flat, black wall—to anyone who was not a dwarf, it seemed pointless to have such an elegant door in a plain, unimpressive wall.

But to Bifur, this was home. A real home where he could see his family and prop his feet up on a cushion and eat good, home-cooked food. A home that had been hard won.

It far different from the cramped little burrow he once shared with Bofur and Bombur.

Opening the door, he stepped inside. Straight away, he was able to smell Gerdi and Bombur's cooking; they always had something cooking. In the distance, he could hear the shouts and yells of their four youngest children as they wrestled while their elder brothers tried to get them to calm down slightly.

Cupping his mouth with his hands, he bellowed out, "I'm home!"

For a minute, everything went silent. Then, he heard delighted squeals and the sound of eight small feel running; four children came bounding around the corner. He braced himself, a wide grin on his lips as he opened his arms.

"There're my wee badgers!" he laughed, catching the children as they lunged for him. He spoke in Khuzdul, knowing that the youngest children were still learning Westron and would understand him better. "What's this? You didn't manage to knock me down? That's—what, two?—for me and eight for you!"

"We'll get you next time, Cousin Bifur!" the eldest of the group, a lad by the name of Boroz, promised.

The youngest, a little girl by the name of Sanna, wriggled her way out of Bifur's arms, choosing to instead climb up onto his shoulders. "Where Uncle Bof?" she questioned, her head tilted.

"I'm afraid he's still in Dale, my littlest badger," he told her. He gave the other girl, Grid, a small boost so she could sit on his other shoulder. The two boys (the younger being named Buruz), he tucked under his arms like sacks of potatoes. "Is your daddy home?" he asked, starting to walk down the hall.

"He's away at the market right now," an older, female voice replied. Looking up, Bifur saw his cousin-in-law, Gerdi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She was one of the loveliest dwarrow dames in Erebor, with extremely long, deep red hair and a thick, finely braided beard to match. There was a smile on her face Bifur walked towards her. "So, why is that silly, old coot still in Dale?" she asked, her hands resting over her very pregnant belly.

As he reached the woman, Bifur set the children down and shooed them off. The boys and Grid did such, but Sanna remained, clinging onto his leg. "We found a shop," he told Gerdi before moving off to the side so he could give her a hug.

Her eyes widened at his words. "Are you serious? The two of you actually found a shop?" she gaped. "How?! It's been eight years—surely all the good places in Dale have been taken?"

He shook his head. "While the city has had a lot of repair work done to it and there is a rather decent population living there again, at least a quarter of the city remains uninhabited and unrenovated." Scooping up Sanna once more, he followed Gerdi into the kitchen. "The shop we found, though, is in a pretty good location—right on the main street. But we're having to do a lot of work to get it to livable condition again, let alone good enough to run a shop out of it."

She glanced over her shoulder. "You two took that much gold with you?" she questioned. "I thought you were just location scouting?"

"You know Bofur…He didn't want to leave it to chance if we did find a good one." Sitting down at the table, he sat Sanna on his knee.

"I knew I should have checked Bofur's pockets before the two of you left. Leave it to him to outright buy a buildin'…" She shook her head and made a disappointed clicking noise with her tongue, though Bifur knew it was mostly in jest.

He chuckled. "To be fair, I'm also to blame. I was the one who agreed the building had potential." Seeing that her hair was hanging loose, he started to separate Sanna's hair out into different sections so he could braid it. Not only would this keep her hair out of her face, but it also got her to sit still; all dwarves knew to sit still when their hair was being braided.

"Since the building's not livable yet, where are the two of you staying in the meantime?" Gerdi grabbed a large, wooden bowl and started to ladle the contents of a huge stock pot into it.

"At a lovely inn called the Full Tankard," he answered, his fingers making quick work of braiding the child's hair. "It's run by an extremely nice family—The Braddocks. The innkeeper and head of the family used to be an apprentice smith under a dwarrow and his children had a half dwarrow for a nanny growing up, so it's been nice getting to converse with people who understand our ways a bit."

As she set the bowl in front of him, Bifur could see that Gerdi's eyes had lit up. "Is that so? I bet that's been a relief!" She slowly eased herself down into a chair. "I know Menfolk can sometimes find us dwarrows a bit peculiar in our ways."

"Thank you," he told her before leaning over and peering into the bowl. A wide grin came to his lips when he saw that it contained her famous vegetable soup. Despite not having a speck of meat in it, the volume of mushrooms she used still managed to give it a meaty flavor. "Aye, it's been nice…We actually ended up hiring the innkeeper's son, Will, to help us with the shop. He's a woodworker—and a skilled one at that!" Finishing up Sanna's hair, he admired his handiwork. "There you go, my littlest badger. Now run along and play so I can eat, aye?"

"No play. Stay with Bif," she pouted. "Missed Bif."

He gave her a hug. "I'll be here for a few hours at least, so don't you worry go worrying your curly lil' head off, Sanna. Go ahead and go play. I promise I'll join in later."

She was quiet for a moment, her lips still pursed in a pout and a thoughtful look on her young face. Finally deciding his answer was good enough, she slid off his lap and scampered off.

Gerdi smiled, lightly shaking her head once more. "She's been really missing her Uncle Bof and Cousin Bif," she told him. "They all have…This is the longest the two of you have been gone in eight years, after all."

He gave her an apologetic smile as he scooted his chair in closer to the table. "I hate to say it, but once we get the shop up and running, we might be gone for even longer stretches." Lifting his spoon, he blew a few times, trying to cool the soup down to a bearable temperature before popping it into his mouth.

"You could always have one of the others help out, you know. So you don't have to be gone for so long."

"We were actually thinking of hiring Will on as a toymaker once everything's finish," he admitted. "We'd have to test his toy making skills, of course, but if he's there, then only one of us would need to be at the shop with him." He ate a few more spoonfuls of soup, his eyes closing in bliss. Galiene made good soup, yes, but nothing could be better than Gerdi and Bombur's cooking.

"My, my…seems the two of you have become fast friends with this Will," she chuckled.

"Aye, he's a good lad. But like I said, the whole family's a good bunch."

"Who's a good bunch?" The two looked up to see a young dwarf enter the kitchen, his beard only just beginning to fill in around his chin. "And I see the wee ones weren't lying about Cousin Bifur being back!" As he spoke, two more dwarves entered the room; these two were older than him, with their beards having fully filled in along their jaws. In fact, the oldest of the three nearly had half a foot of fiery red hair on his chin! They were Bombur and Gerdi's three eldest: Baraz, Berez, and Biriz.

"I was wondering if I'd get to see the three of you while I was here," Bifur grinned. He watched as they moved to take a seat around the table as well. "How've your lessons with Balin been going?"

"Boring," the three of them answered in unison, much to their mother's chagrin.

"Don't get us wrong—he's a good teacher," said Baraz, "but some of the things he's been teaching us are just downright boring."

Berez and Biriz nodded in agreement. "I don't see why we need to learn about the historical treaties struck up by the different clans over the centuries," said the latter. "I can understand learning about the other clans, but all those treaties were in the past and long gone."

At that, Bifur wiggled his finger in a semi-scolding manner. "Just because you think this information isn't needed, doesn't mean it isn't. Some of those treaties you're learning about still stand today." He could understand the lads' frustration with their lessons, but knew that what they were learning was nevertheless important—even if he hadn't learned any of it when he was their age. "It may come in use one day, so you never know."

Berez blew a raspberry at him. "I know I won't need it. I'm going to follow in dad's footsteps and become a cook," he grinned.

"Well, if you're going to be a cook, you're going to want to know how to source your ingredients, young dwarrow," Gerdi told him as she shook a scolding spoon at him, "and sourcing those ingredients means paying attention to which clans and races we have the strongest treaties with." She looked up, past her cousin-in-law and sons, a smile coming to her lips. "There you are, love! I was hoping you'd get back soon."

Turning in his chair, Bifur could see what looked like an enormous wooden crate of food with legs walking in. "Sorry for taking so long, my ruby, but Dori was trying to talk my ear off again," he said, setting the crate down on the counter. His eyes then lit up as he spotted Bifur. "Cousin! You're back!"

"Only for a few hours." Standing up, he gave Bombur a sideways hug thanks to the younger's girth. "I'm just here to get some supplies and start the process of getting estimates for windows."

Bombur nodded in understanding, beginning to unpack the crate as Bifur sat back down. "Dori was mentioning that you two had found a shop. Apparently, it's in a right state of disrepair."

"I wouldn't say it's that bad—it's got good bones and plenty of space. But aye, it does need quite a bit of work done to it." He ducked as Bombur called out Baraz's name; a bundle of garlic went flying over his head.

Baraz caught the garlic and went to go hang it on a hook in the corner of the kitchen. "Dori's always been a bit of a nitpick when it comes to how places look, too," he commented. "If there's a wee bit of dust he can see, he thinks the place is filthy." The others quietly laughed at his words, knowing them to be true.

"Well, regardless, I'm sure the two of you will have the place fit to use in no time," Bombur chuckled.

"Three of us, actually. We hired a human to help us with the work."

At that, Bombur gave him a strange look. "A human?" he repeated. "That's surprising—why not another dwarrow?"

Bifur at a few more bites of soup. "Well, for one, Will's over six feet tall, so he can reach where we can't," he began. "Secondly, he's a woodworker and a damned fine one at that."

Berez nodded in understanding. "Makes sense," he said. "We don't know many folks who are good with wood, after all."

"Apparently, he and Bofur are already becoming fast friends with the lad's family, as they own the inn they're staying in," Gerdi explained.

Taking a seat, Bombur smiled. "Really? That's good to hear! Is the inn a good place?"

"A really good place," Bifur grinned. "It's clean, comfortable, the food's almost as good as yours, and the family understands dwarrow customs." With his bowl nearly empty now, he lifted it up and started to drink straight from it. When he was finished, he let out a satisfied belch and patted his stomach. "And it's appropriately named: The Full Tankard. I don't recall a single time our drinks were empty for longer than five minutes."

Bombur scratched his chin, a contemplative expression on his face. "The Full Tankard, eh? May have to pay the place a visit if ever we head into Dale."

'Oh no—I shouldn't have mentioned the food,' Bifur thought. 'Bombur could easily empty out their pantry if they don't get a proper warning!'

Ori scrunched his nose up slightly as he tried his best to draw a straight line, though the position he was sitting in made that a bit difficult. He dragged the pencil along the page, keeping his wrist locked while using his shoulder to move his arm. While he did get a straight line, it wasn't at the right angle and he grumbled, using a bit of special wax to remove the line from the paper.

Sighing, he tilted his head back against the wall before rubbing his face with his hands and unknowingly smearing lead all over his skin. He then marked the page in his sketchbook and closed it before looking around. For the better part of the day, he had been sitting in the corner of the shop, working on designing a mural for the main room.

As such, he had spent most of the day lost in his own little world, not noticing when it had been Warren instead of Baylee who had come in with lunch for him, Bofur, and Will. Bofur and Will had left some food beside him, of course, only to be amused as he continued to draw with his left hand while unconsciously eating and drinking with his right hand.

Stretching out his arms and back, he couldn't help but yawn before he stood up. Will and Bofur were missing from the front of the building, so he headed into the kitchen to find them at the table. Will sat on a stool while Bofur stood, pointing at a sheet of paper between them.

"Aye, they're fairly simple designs, but they make for toys loved by little tykes all over," Bofur was saying. "You wouldn't believe how large o' a demand we used t' have for these back in Ered Luin—these horses, especially!"

As he approached the table, Ori could see drawings of wooden animals on the paper. "I remember those," he said, taking the other two by surprise. "Those are the animals you, Bifur, and Thorin would carve to help finance the quest."

Will's brows furrowed. "Quest? What quest?" he asked. "And who's Thor—" His brows suddenly rose. "…You don't mean Thorin Oakenshield, do you?"

"O' course he does," Bofur laughed.

"How do you know the King o' Erebor!?"

Bofur and Ori exchanged confused looks before Bofur smacked himself on the forehead. "Ah, aye, that's right, it was your sister I told…" he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry about that, lad. Ori, Bifur, an' me were part o' Thorin's Company."

A look of awe came to Will's face as he stared at the two of them. Slowly, his hand rose up to rub the back of his head as he let out a small chuckle. "Wow," he finally said. "Can't say I was expectin' to hear that today. Though, ah…you may want t' be careful with that information," he then warned. "While there are plenty o' us here in Dale who appreciate all the good you lot did, there are some folk who survived the Battle who…aren't the fondest o' you." A guilty expression came to his face. "My auntie being one of them. But, ah, don't worry too much about me, dad, an' Baylee! We're some o' the ones on your side."

The two dwarves nodded in understanding, though they did look a little confused by this news. However, it was understandable, given the events that preceded the Battle of Five Armies. Though Thorin had rectified his mistakes and had doled out more compensation than was needed, there were still those who couldn't forgive him and his company for the lives that had been lost.

"We'll be sure t' keep it to ourselves whenever your aunt's around, then," Bofur said. He gave him a reassuring smile. "We don't usually announce it anymore, anyway."

"The novelty o' being recognized as heroes among dwarrowkind has worn off," Ori joked.

Will chuckled, his brow rising. "Well, as my mum used t' say, it's always better t' be humble even when your circumstances give ya the chance t' brag." As he spoke, he itched his hands; they felt rather prickly all of a sudden. "Which is why Bard makes such a good king for us. Aye, he's descended from kings, but he started life as a fisherwoman's son."

"Aye, when we first met him, he and his little ones lived in basically a shack," Bofur said with a nod of agreement. "He's a good man. I'm glad t' see that he's doing much better."

"Me, too. He was me an' Baylee's best friend growin' up." He scratched at his hands again. "Our family always did our best t' help him in any way possible, but when the old Master found out, he started t' tax the hell out o' us. He had always hated how well-liked Bard was." His nose then scrunched up as he looked down at his hands as the itching started to turn into a burning feeling; he was surprised to find that they were bright red.

Ori looked down at his hands as well. "…Are you alright?" he asked. "That doesn't look very healthy."

"I'm…not sure what's going on," he admitted. "They just started itching and burnin' out o' nowhere. Maybe I touched something that didn't settle well with my skin?"

Bofur frowned as well. "Let me get you some fresh water an' you can wash them off. Maybe that'll help," he offered. "If not, back at the inn, I've some salve that could help."

"Thanks, Bofur," Will said, rubbing his hands now instead of scratching them. "I don't know what I could have touched, though…We haven't opened any walls, so it can't be dust…"

"Maybe it's one of the plants you touched out in the garden?" Ori suggested as Bofur grabbed a bucket and headed outside. "Or maybe some of the mold from the rotten bits of the privy is what did it?"

"Could be. I just hope washin' my hands helps it go away. It's really annoying." He pouted somewhat, moving to rest his hands atop the table. "I need t' get back to building that new privy…"

Going over to the window, Ori peered out of it and up at the sky. He saw that it was late afternoon and the sun would be dipping into the horizon within the next hour or so. "Are you sure you'll have enough time t' even get started on it today?" he asked, looking back at the human. "It's getting late." He couldn't believe it was that late already; it felt like he had only just started drawing a little while ago.

"I think I'd be able to at least get the frame built," he said. He moved the papers around on the desk, rearranging them so that the blueprints for a dwarven-style privy seat were on top. "It looks fairly simple in its construction anyway. I'll need t' make adjustments for Bofur an' Bifur's height as well as for the space it'll be located in."

Returning to the table, Ori looked at the blueprints; as he expected, there was a breakdown of how to build the seat, but all the writing was in dwarvish runes. "Was Bofur translating it for you…?" he asked. "Unless that nurse of yours also taught you how t' read our language, I don't think you'd be able t' get the numbers right."

"Oh, aye, he was goin' over the numbers with me earlier. But then we got sidetracked by the toy diagrams." He smiled innocently as he scratched at his hands again.

Luckily, it was then that Bofur came back inside, a bucket of fresh water in hand. Standing on his tiptoes, he filled a basin on the counter with the water before setting the bucket on the floor. "Here you go, lad," he said, clapping his hands together. "Nice an' cool, too, so it should soothe some of the burnin'."

"Thanks." Giving the dwarf an appreciative smile, Will went over and, grabbing the bar of soap that sat in a wooden dish, dunked his hands into the water so he could start scrubbing them. A sigh of relief soon left his mouth; the burning had gone away completely and, as he pulled his hands from the water, he found them back to their usual color. "That is so much better," he said, moving to dry them off on a towel.

"The wonders that a simple bar o' soap can do," Bofur grinned. "Glad your hands are feelin' better, lad."

"Me, too. Still wish I knew what made them do that, though," he sighed. Shaking his head, he went over to the table and plucked up the privy blueprints. "I think I best go get started on that frame now. If you need anything, you'll know where t' find me." He smiled at the two before heading into the privy room.

Bofur then looked at Ori. "How was your designin' coming along, lad?" he asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at the younger dwarf. "You looked fairly absorbed by it, so we did our best t' not disturb you."

Ori felt his cheeks grow warm, but he smiled. "I have good start on it," he said, moving to set the sketchbook on the table. He opened it to the page he had marked before spinning it around to show him. "You said you wanted something carefree for the mural, but also something simple. So I thought that maybe the walls could be a mural o' the outdoors, with blue sky an' white clouds an' green hills. Add in some bushes or trees with a few children flying kites or some cute animals. Make the ceiling part o' the sky, with the sun painted in the middle…all o' it painted in a very simple style, o' course." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Then again, it may be too simple…"

Shaking his head as he looked at the two pages filled with various small thumbnails of potential murals, Bofur smiled. "Nonsense, lad! These are all exactly what Bifur an' I were thinkin'!" he told him. "We wanted a bit o' a storybook feel t' the place and these are most definitely storybook. When he gets back from Erebor, Bifur will love t' see what ya came up with for the mural." He then turned the book back towards Ori. "Have you started on the sign yet or are you focusin' on one thing at a time?"

"One thing at a time. The sign is goin' to take a lot more brainpower t' do, since I have to remember it's going to be carved from wood." Closing the sketchbook, he tucked it back into its special holder on his belt. "I did take detailed notes o' what the two o' you wanted on it, though, so I'll have a bit stronger o' an idea about which direction t' go in for that."

"Good, good…I'm sure whatever ya come up with, though, will be amazing." He grinned and reached over, giving Ori a little nudge. "You've got a really good mind for this sort o' thing. Bifur an' me can come up with all sorts of different toys, but we're a bit hopeless with this sort of thing."

Ori felt his cheeks turn a bit pink at the compliment. "I-I wouldn't say you're hopeless," he told him. "I'm sure whatever you two could come up with would still look good. Especially once you put some paint on it."

Bofur snorted. "The paint would make it look even worse because we tried t' fit too much onto the sign." He shook his head. "No, no…this is why we're commissionin' you for these designs. An' so far, it seems we made an excellent decision, goin' with you."

His cheeks growing even warmer, Ori shyly glanced down at the floor. "I-I just hope the final products turn out as good as you hope."

"Between you an' Will? I'm sure it'll turn out even better."

Nearly three hours later found the trio walking into the courtyard of the Full Tankard. They were talking quite happily about the work they had done today, as minor as it was, and how they couldn't wait to get some dinner in their bellies. At first, they didn't notice the figures sitting by the well, nor did they hear the soft sniffling. But when a bit of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, Bofur looked over only to find Baylee crying as her uncle gently dabbed something on her hands.

"What happened to Miss Baylee!?" he gasped, stopping in his tracks.

Will and Ori turned, also looking over at the well. Seeing his sister crying, Will swore and ran over; the dwarves were on his heels.

"Valar's grace, Baylee, what happened?" Will asked, coming to a halt beside her. As he looked down at her arms, his eyes widened in horror. From her elbow down, there were large patches of her skin that looked as if they had been scalded. 'Is this why my hands felt like they were burning earlier?' he thought. Sitting down on the well behind his sister, he gently rubbed her back.

"Lye burns," Richard told them. "Turns out, the soap we had bought was either improperly mixed or improperly cured." He lightly dabbed some milky liquid onto her arm, the light pressure still enough to make her wince. "Warren's already had it all thrown down the privy." He jumped slightly as Will suddenly sneezed.

The strong scent of lavender wafted past Ori's nose, almost making him want to sneeze. "Soap can leave burns like this if it's not made right?" he questioned.

Baylee nodded as she sniffled. "Normally, you'd notice them a lot faster than I did," she said, her voice shaky from pain, "but since I was usin' hot—not boilin', mind you, just hot—water, I just thought it was just the heat o' that that was making my skin do this. But then I washed that last sheet after my arms had dried off an' it just started burnin' like crazy."

"And sadly, it seems that my concoction of milk, lavender, and honey is doing nothing to help," Richard sighed. "But it's also meant more for sunburns than lye burns."

Bofur's eyes widened. "Wait, I have somethin' that might help!" he told them. "I'll go get it!" Turning, he made to start sprinting away, but he turned back around and pointed at Baylee. "Stay there." Then he sprinted off.

A small laugh managed to leave her mouth at Bofur's antic. "Glad t' see I'm not the only one who does that. Though, I usually do it t' things I've set down an' not people." She quietly squeaked in surprise as Will sneezed again; this time, it was slightly muted, as he had sneezed into the crook of his arm.

"Sorry," he groaned.

"Oh, Bofur does it t' anything," Ori told her. "He one time did it t' a spider he wanted t' take out of…somewhere. I don't quite remember where. But when he got back an' found the spider had moved three feet to the left, he gave it quite the scolding…an' then proceeded to swear and yelp as it crawled off the paper an' up his arm."

The three humans all laughed at that. "That sounds like Bofur," Will chuckled, still rubbing Baylee's back.

"He is a bit of an odd one," Richard smiled. "But the good sort o' odd. Though, it's beyond me why he'd want t' try and save a spider's life…" His nose scrunched up slightly and he shook his head. "Nasty things they are."

"They're alright," Baylee sniffled, "so long as they stay in their corner an' don't come near me when I'm sleepin'." She clenched her eyes in pain as she ever so slowly lowered her arms so that they rested on her lap.

For the third time, Will sneezed, though no one was terribly surprised this time.

'Good thing neither of them have been to Mirkwood, then,' thought Ori. He glanced down at her arms again and frowned; he still couldn't believe that those burns had been caused by soap of all things.

Standing up, Richard carried the bowl of lavender-honey milk across the yard only to pour it over some flowers that grew near the kitchen door. "I'm sorry I wasn't able t' help you, love," he said as he came back over. "If my stores o' poultices an' salves weren't so low, I'm sure I'd be a bit more useful."

"S'not your fault, uncle," she told him. She gave him a small, wobbly smile. "It helped at first, but I guess the burns dislike lavender as much as I do."

"You don't like lavender?" Ori questioned, his brow rising.

The three of them shook their heads in unison. "We use it t' keep bedding fresh in unused rooms," Baylee explained, "so we constantly have t' smell it." She winced and let out a soft whimper when, as she shifted her position, she bumped her arm against her knee.

"And lavender is a plant with many medicinal uses," Richard added. "I used to like it, but that was before I became a heal—" He was interrupted as, yet again, Will sneezed.

"It just makes me sneeze likes crazy," Will groaned, his voice sounding a bit nasally now. "Too much o' it can also make it a bit hard for me to breathe."

Ori nodded in understanding. "Good thing I don't know anyone who uses much lavender," he chuckled. "Most dwarrows I know prefer earthier scents."

Richard was about to reply, but Bofur came bursting out of the inn. "Got it!" he called as he ran over. As he got closer, the four could see that he held a clay pot. "Feels nearly full, too, so there should be plenty." He opened it, showing the contents to the group.

To them, it just looked like a glossy, white paste filled with colorful flecks. To him, it was a miracle worker for burns of any kind. Though, it did have a strange smell to it, which made Richard raise his brow.

"May I ask what it's made of?" Richard asked, his brow rising slightly as he caught wind of the smell.

Will sneezed again, startling Bofur.

"I'm…not really sure," Bofur admitted, looking into the pot. "A healer back in Ered Luin made it. I do know it has a couple o' different oils in it as well as some chamomile an' blackberry leaves." He then glanced at Will. "An' you, lad, have quite the powerful sneeze there."

"Blame the lavender," Will chuckled, his voice still a bit nasally.

Richard nodded in understanding, chuckling slightly at his nephew's words. "Both chamomile an' blackberry leaves are good for burns. And that combination would also explain its strange smel—"

"Richard!" He turned as he heard his wife's voice. "Richard, I know you're tendin' to Baylee, but Gawen needs your help urgently—he's gone an' cut himself quite bad."

"I'll be right there, Delza," he called, using her pet name. He looked back at Bofur. "Would you mind applying it to Baylee's arms? My wife always underestimates the severity of wounds," he sighed.

"No trouble at all," Bofur smiled. He took his spot when Richard stood up, setting the clay pot down on the stone. Removing his gloves, he tucked them away in his pocket and pushed his sleeves up slightly. "Alright, lass…this will sting a bit at first, but I promise, it'll have your arm cool an' pleasantly tingly in no time." He scooped up a good amount and divided it between his hands.

She nodded in understanding. "Whatever helps the pain go away," she murmured. Holding out one arm, she flinched as Bofur gently smeared the salve onto her skin.

"Sorry, lass," he frowned.

"N-no, it's fine. Anythin' touchin' it hurts right now."

"Then let me know if I need t' be gentler, aye?" He gave her a small smile before beginning to carefully rub the salve into her skin. "I don't want t' put you in any more pain than you're already in."

Baylee found herself amazed by just how gentle he was being; for some reason, she had always thought dwarves would be quite heavy-handed. She was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. Feeling Will set his hand on her shoulder, she looked up at him.

"Will you be alright if I head inside t' go get cleaned up?" he asked, concern on his face.

"Aye, I will," she told him. "My arm's already feelin' nice an' cool where he's got the stuff."

"Alright then." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before standing up.

"I think I'll head in, too," Ori told them. "I'd like to wash this lead off my face before dinner."

Both nodded, though Baylee spoke. "Dinner's a choice o' roast chicken an' venison stew tonight, by the way."

Will brightened at this. "Venison stew? It's been ages since we've had that!"

"Bard went hunting an' got two elk. He gave us the bigger o' them." She smiled at her brother's enthusiasm before looking back down at her arms.

"Will mentioned your family's quite close t' the king," Bofur commented as the other two walked off. He was still being extra gentle as he scooped up more of the salve, working it into her skin in small circles.

She nodded again. "Aye. Him, Will, our friend, Primrose, an' me have been friends since childhood," she explained. "The four o' us were nigh inseparable well into our teen years. An' we could be quite the troublemakers at times…We're still all good friends, though we've understandably got less time t' spend together now."

He chuckled quietly. "For some reason, I just can't picture either Bard or you bein' troublemakers. Bard's far too serious from what I've seen an' you're just far too sweet. But Will—now there's a lad I can see getting into all sorts o' trouble. Can't say anything about this Primrose, though, given that I don't know her."

Baylee felt her cheeks grow a bit warm as he called her 'sweet'. "Well, Bard an' I were actually the biggest troublemakers in our little group," she admitted with a small laugh. "He an' I would sneak around an' tie everyone's boats t' one another or we'd managed t' set a few hogs loose in the market…As ya can imagine, in Laketown, both were very bothersome things." She lightly shook her head, still laughing. "There was even this one time when we were teens that we broke into the Master's kitchen an' pantry. We stole some of his finest wine and some o' his desserts before rowing out with Will an' Prim to the middle o' the lake so we could watch the fallin' stars."

His brow rose, a wide grin on his lips. "Why, Miss Baylee, I would have never taken you for a lowly thief!" he teased. "Stealin' the Master's wine…" He clicked his tongue in faux disappointment, though he was happy to see that she was no longer crying. "How much trouble did you get in?"

It was her turn to grin broadly. "None. The Master never knew we took the wine or the sweets. Our parents, however, knew we had taken someone's wine, as we were all badly hungover the next mornin'."

"At least you had a fun night," he chuckled. "I take it you don't go sneakin' into the pantries o' authority figures anymore though, aye?"

"Oh, heavens no!" she giggled. "That was the only time we risked it. We also learned that the Master had terrible taste in wine."

His brow rose at that. "Aye, I remember when he let us stay the night in his home—the wine was horrible. I had t' keep drinking it in order to get drunk enough t' forget its taste!" He shook his head as he scooped up a bit more of the salve, beginning to gently rub it into her hand now. Though she was a human, her hands were still a good deal smaller than his. "Am I still bein' gentle enough, by the way?"

"Aye, you are." She watched as he slowly worked the salve into the back of her hand before turning it over to work it into her palm. She, too, noticed the difference in the sizes of her hand and, for some reason, it made her cheeks grow a bit warm. "The wine the Master gave you might've tasted bad because it could have been on its way t' turning into vinegar by that time."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. He was a disgustin' looking man, so it'd make sense for his food t' be disgustin', too." He smiled as he heard her giggle again. "Don't have t' worry about that here, though…I daresay, this inn's got the best wine I've had in years—not that I often drink wine."

"You're more o' a beer and ale dwarf," she replied. "With the occasional mug o' morning tea."

"The tea is a fairly recent addition t' the morning routine." He started to work the salve into her fingers, taking care when he had to go between them to cover the entirety of the digits. "I used t' have cider like Bifur, but I found that it was more likely t' make me want t' go back t' bed rather than wake me up. Tea, on the other hand, perks me right up."

She quietly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind if ever you're feelin' really sleepy one morning." Glancing up from his hands, she saw that there was a gentle smile on his face that, in her opinion, made him look quite handsome; the realization made her cheeks turn a bit pinker and she quickly looked back down at her hands, not wanting him to notice her staring. "So why do you have this salve? I wouldn't think a toymaker would burn themselves much—unless it's also good for cuts?"

"Ah, I do occasionally still burn myself," he explained with a chuckle. "Mostly when I'm cookin'. Though, we do sometimes use fire when makin' toys. But I had t' use a lot o' this stuff when I was still a miner." He reached over, getting more of the salve on his fingers before gently taking her other arm and giving it the same treatment; he felt her stiffen slightly, but knew it couldn't be helped. "We had these helmets that had little boxes that we'd stick candles in so we could see what we were doin'. Most o' the time, you'd forget about the candles and go t' push the helmet back only to end up burning your fingers or wrist. This was a lifesaver down there. I think there's even still a stack o' empty pots lying around my old house somewhere in the Blue Mountains."

Baylee slowly nodded in understanding. "You used t' be a miner?"

"Aye. Once I turned thirty—that's when we dwarves come o' age—I headed off t' work in the mines. Worked in 'em for nearly twenty years before I learned I was better at toymaking!" He chuckled quietly, a reminiscent smile on his lips. "Normally, I wouldn't have been allowed t' work in the mines even at that age, but I had t' earn us some money since Bifur's hunting couldn't always be reliable—animals can be so finicky, after all. But, aye, the boss o' the nearest mine let me come work for him."

Her head tilted somewhat. "Why did you have t' start in a mine so young? Wasn't there any other jobs you could have taken?" It was a bit odd, now knowing that dwarves came of age at thirty—especially she and Will would be turning thirty in a few months.

"Bombur an' I lost our parents real young; they weren't even a hundred yet. So Bifur took us in," he began. "Mahal bless him for it, too, because Bombur wasn't even a year old at that point. Somehow, he managed t' keep us alive long enough t' teach us how to somewhat fend for ourselves. He had some help, o' course, but ah…well, pardon my language, but Bombur an' me could be little shits at times." He grinned as he heard her crack up once more. "We could! We'd get into all sorts o' trouble when we were little: We'd constantly run away from our babysitter; we'd fall asleep during our lessons or see who could make the loudest fart in the middle of them; we'd sneak out durin' the night…Aye, we were little shits."

She continued to giggle. "Aye, it certainly sounds like it!" she agreed. "But I see that you, at least, have grown out o' that stage."

Bofur felt his cheeks get a bit warm. "You haven't seen me when I'm drunk," he told her, his tone matter-of-fact. "I can still be quite the nuisance an' what's worse is that I'm even better at it now than I was then. Now I know bawdy songs, crude jokes, an' how to wrestle."

"Ah, but sometimes, a bawdy song or crude joke is just what an occasion calls for!" she laughed.

His brow rose as he glanced up at her; he found that her cheeks were quite pink, but he thought it was just from her laughing. "Why, Miss Baylee, don't tell me a sweet little thing like yourself enjoys listenin' to those sorts o' things," he said, feigning horror. "A respectable lady should shun that sort o' thing!" A cheeky grin came to his lips as she started to laugh even harder now.

"Y-you sound just like my best friend!" she laughed, tears of mirth forming in the corners of her eyes. "She's always doin' her best t' make sure I maintain a respectable reputation—but I live an' work at an inn, so hearin' bawdy songs and jokes is inevitable."

"There's nothin' wrong with a little crude humor now an' then. Even Thorin partakes in the occasional lewd singalong while Lady Dis is well known for her treasure trove o' rude jokes. …O' course, a good portion o' them are aimed at a certain race o' tall, pointy-eared fellows, but she doesn't use those quite as often anymore, since she's about t' get one for a daughter-in-law…"

As he filled a mug with some ale, Will leaned over slightly so he could look out of the window to check on Bofur and Baylee. He was just in time to see the two of them burst into a fit of laughter, their cheeks bright red. His brow rose slightly; he hadn't seen his sister laugh that hard in years…

Out of nowhere, he felt something cold trickling down his hand. "Ah, crap," he muttered, looking back to find the mug overflowing. Quickly twisting the valve shut, he grabbed a rag so he could wipe down the sides of the tankard.

"You alright, lad?" Bifur asked, his brow raised as he waited on the other side of the counter. He had returned to Dale an hour ago and would have gone to the shop if he hadn't had a small crate of mushrooms to deliver to Galiene—a gift from Gerdi for treating him and Bofur so well. "You seem a wee bit distracted."

His cheeks reddening with embarrassment, Will set the ale down on the bar for him. "Distracted? Oh, no, no. I was just checkin' on Baylee and Bofur." He then crouched down to wipe up the spilled alcohol.

"They're still out there?" Leaving the ale for now, he rounded the corner of the bar and went to look out the window himself. The pair were still sitting at the well, Bofur halfway done with Baylee's right arm and both laughing their heads off. A smile came to his lips. "I see Bofur's got her laughin' her head off, so even if the salve isn't workin', his jokes seems t' be at least."

"They must be some good jokes," he chuckled. He tossed the rag into a bucket of used rags before grabbing a second tankard to fill with beer. "I haven't seen 'Lee laugh that hard in years. It's nice t' see."

At that, Bifur cocked his head. "Really?" That struck him as odd; he had seen her laughing plenty of times over the last few weeks. But, admittedly, none of those times had been as hard as she was laughing now. "Well, it doesn't surprise me that Bofur's able t' do it. He's got a lot o' humor stored in that noggin' o' his…I just hope that, whatever he's sayin' t' her, he's not telling her the crude stuff."

Will snorted. "Oh, even if he is sayin' a rude joke or two, she won't mind. Baylee's got a few o' them stored away herself." Grabbing a third tankard, he filled this one with cider for Ori. Then, setting it down beside his beer, he went to go look out the window again. He was just in time to see Bofur laughing so hard, he nearly toppled sideways; luckily, Baylee caught him and got him upright again, which only made them laugh harder. A smile came to his lips. "It's nice t' see her laughing so much."

"Those two get along quite well, don't they?" Bifur chuckled. "Then again, your sister seems to get along well with almost anyone. Don't think I've see a person she dislikes yet."

"That's because most o' them moved back to Laketown," he laughed. "But aye, she's a sweet thing. Always has been…Which is why mum had her start workin' in the inn. Her sweetness combined with her memory, balancing skills, an' her tininess made her a perfect candidate for ensuring our customers got good service." His brow rose slightly; though it was a bit hard to see his sister's expression from there, he could have sworn that her smile looked shyer than normal. "I will say, though, she's takin' quite a shinin' to you lads. I think it might be your shorter statures—no offense meant, o' course. I'm being quite serious."

"None taken, lad," he snorted. "It could very well be the reason, after all. I hate t' say it, but I do find some non-dwarves t' be quite intimidating due to their heights. Admittedly, you an' your father were among them until I got t' know the both o' you better. So, perhaps, it's the same for her?" He chuckled, shaking his head as he returned to his ale, glad to find that no one had tried to take it while he was watching Baylee and Bofur.

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm quite thankful that she's got herself some more friends. An' I'm not just saying that because they happen t' also be my bosses."