This elf, Lord Elrond, made some excuses in the Common Tongue and waved us away, before he, the wizard and a reluctant Oakenshield moved off to another part of the elvish city. The rest of us were rather escorted up various winding staircases to a full suite of guest rooms by the Lindir elf, who seemed pained to have been left behind with us.

"If you need anything," he said, stiffly, being mostly ignored by the excited company. "You only have to ask."

Throwing my bedroll and shield down onto the nearest bed I could reach, I slumped myself down onto it, before almost falling off of it in shock. Of course, the bed was larger than what I was used to, what with this being an elvish kingdom and elves being renowned for their height. But I hadn't expected just how gloriously comfortable it would be. Or how fine the covers were. Or how soft the pillows were beneath my fingers. Truthfully, I was used more to the ground beneath and my cloak for cover. This was a luxury beyond even my wildest dreams at Ered Luin.

The other dwarves - being, of course, a little more refined than me - were less taken aback with the beds and were taken more with the various ornaments and pieces of furniture set about the room. The Durin brothers were peering closely at a carved table. Nori was handling some round ornament. His little brother, Ori, meanwhile, was gazing in wonder out of one of the room's many windows.

From the crashes and loud cheers in the other rooms, the other dwarves were having just as much fun exploring as these were. Meanwhile, the Lindir elf stood at the door, barely able to conceal his frustration.

"Well," he said. "Do you have any questions?"

"You said we were going to get food," Nori piped up, dumping the ornament unceremoniously back down where he had found it as the others accompanied him in a chorus of moans.

"Yes," the frustrated elf said through gritted teeth. "You will have food. At dinner. Which will not be for another hour yet. Please put that down!" he all but shrieked at Fili and Kili, who were in the process of lifting up the table.

"It's just a table," Kili said, but the elf would hear none of it.

"It's almost a thousand years old!" he exclaimed. The lads looked at each other, shrugged and set it back down. 

"What food will be served at dinner?" Dori asked, entering our corner of the suite with his clothes already folded neatly over his arms. "And should we dress for the occasion?" 

The elf seemed taken aback by this question.

"You do not have to," he said eventually. "But it would be appreciated if you did so." He kept his face stoic, but the small wrinkling of his nose suggested that the scent of troll was still fresh amongst us. "I could have baths sent up for you all."

Before the others could respond, a loud shout came up from where Kili was standing by the window.

"Sweet!" he cried. "You have a water slide?"

"A water slide?" The worried elf hurried over to the window. "We don't have a water slide- That isn't a water slide," he said, wearily. "That is a fountain. It is an ornamental piece, built three hundred years ago by-"

"But... we can swim in it?" said Fili, peering down beside his brother and the elf.

"No, you cannot," Lindir said. "It is a garden feature. A place for quiet contemplation and reflection. It is certainly not a thing to swim in or bathe in for that matter!" 

"But it isn't a thousand years old," Kili continued.

"Three hundred years- that's not too old. That could be a good lifetime for a dwarf," Fili added, helpfully. The elf only spluttered. "I'm sure we wouldn't damage it that much."

Perhaps the hobbit wasn't the fussiest host in Middle Earth after all, I thought, as a deep colour rose in the elf's cheeks.

"That's enough, lads," Balin said, quietly, entering the room at just the right moment. "I'm sure Master Lindir here has other things he'd rather be doing."

"I will have proper bathtubs brought up for you," Master Lindir said, with a strained edge to his voice. "And I will have someone else bring you down for dinner." He then departed, muttering under his breath in his elvish gibberish.

"This isn't too bad," Kili said, throwing himself down onto the bed opposite to mine.  

"Don't get too used to it, lad," Balin said. "Your uncle won't stand for us to stay here for any longer than necessary." 

"What do you think, Nithi?" Kili asked.

"S'good," I replied, with a shrug, still prodding the pillows.

"You alright, lass?" Balin said, softly, walking slowly across to stand at the foot of my bed. "You don't... look so good."

"I'm-" I began, but the older dwarf butted in first.

"I'll ask Oin to check you over before dinner," he said, firmly. 

"Did someone say my name?" Even for the most deaf dwarf of the company, Oin sure had a knack at catching his name. Before I knew it, Oin was also beside my bed and poking the back of my head yet again. 

"All that running around can't have helped," the group's healer concluded. He delved back into his box, bringing out various bottles and sprigs of herbs. 

"What are you giving me this time?" I asked, wearily clutching my head. The dwarf only stared at me blankly. Groaning, I repeated myself; a good deal louder this time.

 "Before, I gave you white willow," the healer said. He held up a glass bottle close to my face where only a few of the precious leaves sat. "But we're running a little short on that. Here!" he added, having rummaged back into his box and pulled out another bottle. "This should do the trick!" He shook out a small handful of pale purple flowers into my hand.

"Lavender," he said. "Don't eat it!" he exclaimed as I gagged and spat the bitter-tasting flowers back out into my hand. "Sniff it."

I sniffed the damp patch hesitantly. I couldn't deny that it smelt good: a strong, flowery scent. But it was not exactly hitting my headache the same way the willow leaves had.

"What are you doing?" I looked up to see a she-elf staring down at us. She didn't seem particularly important, wearing the same robes as all the other lowly elves around there. Someone (the hobbit, most likely) had decided to call for a bathtub and so a wooden one had been carried into the middle of the room and the room was full of elves with jugs of water.

"Nothing," I retorted, but Oin did not seem so annoyed by the she-elf's curiosity. If anything, he seemed quite eager to catch her attention- hastily budging over so that the elf could get a good look of me. 

"Lass here took a bad hit to the back of her head," he said, ignoring my incredulous expression. "Can't seem to shake off a headache."

"It did only happen last night," I added, through gritted teeth, although truthfully the incident with the trolls felt like it had happened much longer ago. 

"Let me take a closer look," the elf said, in a soft voice, setting her jug down and gesturing for me to turn around. But I wouldn't have it.

"No," I said, folding my arms. "Thank you, but no thank you."

"Nithi..." Oin began. 

"I'll take the lavender," I said, pressing the damp clump back to my nose. 

Another elf, dressed in a similar set of robes to the Lindir fellow, appeared then at the door.

"Dinner is ready for you," he said, in a high, ceremonious voice. The dwarves jumped up eagerly at that.

"Coming, Oin, Nithi?" Fili asked, as he and Kili passed. He looked hesitantly at the elf who still stood looming over us. 

"In a minute, lad," Oin said. 

"Don't touch me," I hissed, as the elf leaned over. "Don't!"

"It will not take long," the elf said, "A few seconds at most."

"No!"

"Do not throw away my offer lightly, she-dwarf," she warned.

"Nithi..." Oin said, lowering his voice. "We haven't got enough willow leaves to get through the rest of the journey. This will ease the pain and heal the concussion." 

"Fine," I said, finally, but only after Oin had shown me the limited number of willow leaves again. "But be quick with it." 

The elf sighed- a good deed never goes unpunished- but still reached out and placed her hands onto the back of my head. For a moment, there was nothing but the extra weight of the elf pushing down. Then the thing behind me began to make strange sounds - words, I presumed, in her native tongue. I could not see what was going on behind me, but if I could take anything from the awe on Oin's face, it was something pretty spectacular to watch. 

"Done," the elf said, retracting her hands from my head and wiping them quickly with a towel. 

My hair couldn't have been that disgusting. Aye, I hadn't washed it in a... well, since Hobbiton, but it could not have been that bad. I opened my mouth to complain but stopped myself, realising only then that I could move my head freely, without any sudden jolts of pain.

"How did you-? How?"

"Elvish medicine," Oin said, with a chuffed look about him, even though he wasn't the medic who cured me. "I've heard a lot about the House of Elrond and the healing used here." The she-elf seemed pleased by that and smiled hesitantly at the older dwarf. "What's your name then, healer?"

"Agareth," the elf said. "If you'll excuse me, I had best get to my tasks." 

"And us to ours. Come on, Nithi, to dinner."

"Coming," I said, absently, as the elves and then Oin left the room. The older dwarf, in his eagerness to get to his food, had forgotten about his medic's box and had left it, wide-open, at the foot of my bed. Finding the room deserted, I saw no harm in peering inside.

It was the usual things that you'd expect from any healer or any dwarf with even an inch of medical knowledge and sense. Even Widow Tiggy herself, who had never been much of a healer, had owned some of these goods: mortar and pestle, pliers. rags. This kind of stuff was worth ten a penny in the mountain and one of the few things old Tigs could leave lying around without fear of it getting pinched. 

But there was something else beneath the rags. I pulled them aside and heard the clink of glass hitting more glass beneath. Bottles. Three small glass bottles, all nicely lined up, and wrapped tightly in linen rag at the bottom of the box. And all filled to the top with the same green leaves Oin had given to me that morning.

The dining room at Rivendell was arguably more of a balcony than a room, overlooking the vast valley below, just as the sun was beginning to set over it. Lord Elrond, the wizard and Oakenshield all held places on the high table, whereas the rest of us lowly dwarves (and a hobbit) were placed on a smaller table, squeezed in on two sets of benches around it.

I managed to find a place beside Oin. The older dwarf was already picking around at his food and so didn't notice the glass bottle I placed on the table until it nudged his hand.

"What?" he shouted out, his mouth half-full of food. "Ah," he added, as he slowly recognised the bottle.

"Ah, indeed," I said. The other dwarfs were talking amongst themselves and so did not seem to notice me grab the older dwarf's hearing horn and speak into it. "Next time, you need a dummy to try out elvish medicine, find someone else." 

Oin blustered. "You're cured, aren't you?" he exclaimed.

"No thanks to you," I said, but not into his hearing horn. Instead I grabbed my bowl and went straight for the food in the middle of the table.

"What is this?" I cried, taking a handful of green leaves up from the central bowl and throwing it back in crossly. "Who ate all the meat?"

"There is no meat," Bofur, from across the table, said despondently. "They don't seem to eat it."

I groaned (bloody elves!) and turned instead to one of the jugs set on the table. It might not have been meat but, at least from what I could sniff, there was something with a bit of kick inside. 

Across the table, Kili was staring at something intently, smiling and winking at something over my shoulder. I turned around only to find the focus of his interest being a pretty elf harpist. Turning back, I raised my eyebrows at him, but it only took a glower from Dwalin for the young dwarf to avert his gaze.

"Can't say I fancy elf maids myself," he said, hastily. "Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although," he added, gesturing over his shoulder at an elf that was just passing, "that one there isn't too bad."

"That's not an elf maid," Dwalin hissed, and the elf in question turned around to face us, only for the table to dissolve into a fit of laughter at Kili's confused expression.

The harpist continued to play, no longer harassed by Kili's attention, but then a flute player joined her; standing just behind Oin and me and blasting her solemn tune down at us. Oin had the right idea, I had to admit, even though I was still annoyed at him: he stuffed his napkin into his listening horn and was free from the sombre music. 

Nori had a similar complaint. "Change the tune, why don't you?" he exclaimed. "Feel like I'm at a funeral." 

 "Did somebody die?" Oin may have been able to escape the music, but at the price of losing his hearing all together. 

"Right, lads," Bofur piped up. "And lass," he added, quickly. "There's only one thing for it." He pushed himself back from the table and then climbed up onto it. 

 "There's an," he began to sing in a loud, clear voice, 'inn. There's an inn. There's a merry, old inn. Beneath an old, grey hill."

"And there they brew a beer so brown that the man in the moon himself came down, one night to drink his fill," we chorused along with him, hammering fists onto tabletops, flinging food up from our bowls, and bringing the elvish musicians to a halt. 

"Ohhh," Bofur started up. "The ostler has a tipsy cat who plays a five-stringed fiddle."

A fistful of leaves hit me in the chest at that moment, scattering bits of salad all over my tunic and down; green, leafy fragments landing, even into my boots. I looked up sharply to see Kili looking particularly sheepish, but it was too late. Soon the whole table was throwing food, singing as they did so, whilst all around us the elves could only look on in horror and disgust.

Grabbing up my bowl, I flung the remains of my own dinner at Kili's head. Salad did not prove to be a good projectile though - the leaves only flew everywhere and hit Kili's neighbours as much as they hit him. He retaliated with a chunk of potato that soared way too far over my head and instead hit the opposite wall, just narrowly missing both Lord Elrond and his Lindir busy-body.

It was at this point that the wizard decided to intervene. Oakenshield had already gone off somewhere, and so it was the wizard who herded us out from the dining hall at Rivendell and it was the wizard who apologised on behalf of us to our hosts, even though none of us felt particularly apologetic. 

I had left Oin's bottle with him at the dinner table, but I had picked up another, larger bottle on my way back. Elvish wine. It was surprisingly good too - a little too sweet perhaps for my taste, but it was strong enough. I sat on the edge of my bed and knocked it back.

"Hey," Nori exclaimed as he passed. "Save some for the rest of us."

"Get your own next time," I retorted.

"Easy there, Nithi," Balin came in at this point, still with fragments of salad caught in his beard and hair. He held out his hand and reluctantly I handed him the bottle.

The sky over Rivendell had darkened significantly since dinner and a large moon was rising over the valley. The long day, the elvish healing and then the elvish wine on top of it all was all beginning to become too much for me. Without bothering to change, or to even pick out leaf fragments from my clothes, I curled up into the soft bed and fell into a deep sleep.

 "Wake up," a gruff voice sounded out, from somewhere far away. Groaning, I ignored it at first, pulling the covers only further up over my head, but then the incessant shaking began.

"What?" I roared, sitting straight upright only to find myself face-to-face with Dwalin's battle worn features.

"Get up," he growled, thrusting my shield and sheathed sword into my arms. "Balin wants you to learn how to fight? Well, you can learn now."

 Still yawning, I followed the older dwarf out through the already brightly-lit corridors and past various elvish busy-bodies, until he led me to an uncovered courtyard space, overhanging the vast valley, but entirely deserted of elves. And by deserted of elves, I mean that the space instead was taken up by several dwarves and especially by two sparring dwarves in the centre of the courtyard.

It took a long moment for my bleary eyes to catch up with the fast pair as they spun around each other in a blur of gold and brown, brown and blue: Fili and Kili. 

"Going a bit too high there, Kili," Dwalin barked.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked, peering down from the edge of the courtyard to the vast drop below. The sun was just beginning to rise in the distance, but it didn't seem light enough yet to make this any safer.

"Positive," he said. "Lads, take five. Get something to drink." 

The pair stopped, panting, and embraced each other, clapping their arms over each other's shoulders and showing off a brotherly affection that had been missing just moments before when they were attacking each other. 

Fili spotted me first, raising his hand in greeting, but it was Kili who shouted out.

"Watch out, Dwalin," he laughed. "Nithi doesn't look too excited."

"If you had anything to do with this," I said, unsheathing my sword and dumping my scabbard on the floor, "I will end you." 

The brothers smirked before walking off to the side where a jug of water was already waiting for them besides a watchful Balin.

"So, what do we do? Spar a little bit?" I said to Dwalin's back. "Jump back and forth? Make a nice scene for everyone- OW! What the-"

In a split second, the dwarf before me had turned, spun around and whacked his war hammer right into the side of my left arm, knocking my shield and then me to the floor.

"Get up," he said.

"What the- That hurt!"

"I barely used a quarter of the strength of my normal blow. Get up."

Sullenly, I got back up onto my feet, rubbing my arm.

"I fought against the trolls with the rest of you," I spat. "I don't need lessons."

"Aye, you did. And you were the only one injured enough to be seen by Oin. Trolls are a lot easier than orcs. An orc will end you on the spot, not keep you for dessert," the older dwarf retorted. "Now brace yourself."

The morning followed on in a similar pattern with Dwalin continuously knocking me to the floor, much to the amusement of the damned Durin brothers. Just as I was struggling to get up for the fortieth consequtive time, Dwalin decided he had enough. 

"We'll go over some more tomorrow," he said, briskly. "I think I need a dip after that," he added, even though he had barely broken a sweat.

Me, on the other hand, just slumped back to the floor, my clothing soaked through. 

"Tomorrow?" I said, weakly. 

Before Dwalin could respond, Ori appeared, running breathlessly into the courtyard.

"Thorin says we can bathe in the fountain," he gasped. "The one with the-"

"The water slide!" Kili shouted up. "Come on," he cried, excitedly, as him, Fili and Ori ran back into the corridors. 

"Thank Mahal," I said, slowly sitting up and