Ya'aburnee

Truce

She slept restlessly that night, as she sometimes did, but only Gandalf and Thorin caught on that she was sleep deprived, because they were the only two who knew to look for it, knowing she had not slept well the night before. She was helpful as ever, helping to load the ponies, teaching Bilbo how to brush and saddle them, and helping Bofur to cook breakfast.

She hadn't seemed to the company to be much of a talker, so her relative silence didn't seem odd, especially as she replied to comments made to her with a smile.

"I forgot to tell you," Gandalf said as the group sat around, quickly eating breakfast, "Happy birthday, my dear Olivia. Although it is a day late."

She smiled politely, muttering a thank you. "You didn't say it was your birthday!" Bilbo said, quite surprised, as Birthdays were a huge deal in the Shire.

"It was not the most important thing happening yesterday," She replied, "Besides, I was only turning 24."

"24!" Gloin choked on his food in shock. "Why yer just a wee baby!"

She furrowed her eyebrows and laughed awkwardly. "I've been an adult for 6 years, Master Gloin."

"Humans age differently than dwarves," Gandalf cut in. "They only live to be around one hundred, if they're lucky."

"Only a hundred years!" Bofur exclaimed, "that's barely any time at all!"

Liv shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't exactly happy to talk about human mortality. Thorin glanced at her for a moment before standing to address the company. "Alright, enough dilly dallying. We must be off."

***

The days plodded on with much of the same. They would ride all day, and sleep at night, and slowly but surely, Liv became much more comfortable around the dwarves, and sat less often in quiet, pensive thought. They were often singing, and laughing, and it was hard to dwell on the past when those around her in the present were so lively.

On an evening in mid-May, Liv was helping Ori with dinner. The duty shifted around, but some dwarves cooked better than others, so often someone would volunteer to help the less culinarily gifted. 

Liv chopped the vegetables while Ori worked on cutting the meat, Kili trying to bother and distract them both by singing (off key) a dwarvish drinking song. Fili was dancing to Kili's tune, trying to catch Liv's eye and make her laugh. It had become sort of a competition, between the two brothers, who teased the human woman that she was nearly as grumpy as their uncle.

She bit the inside of her lip, shaking her head, though she was trying very hard not to laugh at the two. "Oh knock it off you two," Bilbo said, approaching Liv, whom he'd become fast friends with. She was a lot more 'civil' than the dwarves, and he could talk with her about how uncomfortable the ground was, or how difficult it was to ride the ponies all day without being ridiculed. They talked about food, and formal dances, and gardening. "How is it coming?" He asked the young woman, peering into the pot at the stew.

"Good," She replied with a soft smile. "It'll be ready soon, we just have to make sure it's all cooked through, and add some seasoning."

"What I don't understand," Bilbo said, "You help to cook so often, but you never eat any of it."

"I enjoy cooking," She shrugged. "And..."

"And?" Both Fili and Kili had stopped their antics, Fili opting to join the conversation.

"And... I don't eat meat." She replied, turning to the stew to stir it.

"What do you mean, you don't eat meat?" Kili asked.