"Have you even seen him yet?"

"Nope, I can never see around these Dwarrowdam's mighty bottoms."

Ora bit her tongue to stifle a snort, but the noise slipped out anyway when one of the haughty looking Noble Ladies shot Ava a sour look. The two friends quickly continued on their way, hand in hand in attempt not to get lost or separated while they pushed and shoved their way through the thick crowd of Dwarrowdams. They were trying to get to the markets, but a thick mob of high-maintenance looking females had congregated outside the Kings Hall, obviously waiting for him to emerge in a desperate attempt to get the King to notice them.

"I feel a little sorry for him actually." Ava continued once she was finally free of the crowd and letting go of Ora's hand.

"Help!" Ora cried out through a laugh, reaching back out towards her friend as the rabble of woman tightened, unfortunately getting sucked in with them.

Ava laughed and tugged once more on her friends arm. Ora came flying out of the mass of Dwarves, stumbling slightly as she tried to recompose.

"Well, that was fun." Ora huffed sarcastically, brushing herself down and quickly fixing her hair as they walked away from the Kings hall.

Ava snickered, "But imagine that following you around every moment of the day." By that she meant the gaggle of females.

"I think I'd go insane- oh, for the love of Mahal, one of those crows scratched me." Ora nursed a pathetic scratch on her arm.

"Oh! That reminds me, I need to buy some carrots."

Ora stared at her friend for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. "How did my scratch remind you of carrots? You hate carrots."

"What scratch?"

Ora rolled her eyes and shoved Ava playfully as they began to descend the first of many flights of stairs. Ora had been in Erebor for a little over a month now, and Ava a few weeks longer, but even after that time they still had a hard time navigating their way around the endless tunnels and corridors leading down to the market. Mainly because they would always come across a new path which of course they'd have to explore.

"Are we training this afternoon?" Ava asked as they turned a corner. The noise of the market bubbled up from an opening ahead of them.

"Can do." Ora replied absentmindedly. They reached the end of the enclosed corridor and the straight path fell away, bending of to the left and right to hug the stone walls. Before them the mountain opened up to become the market that spanned over six levels, all open with every shop and stall dug into the rock itself with many corridors trailing off back into the mountain, similar to the one they'd just emerged from.

The pair began their descent again, following the main path that wrapped around the outside of the market, leading them steadily spiralling downwards and towards the ground floor. However, on the fourth level they took a right, following a stone walk way that stretched over the empty space in-between the levels and providing a short cut to the other side of the market.

This is where they bid their goodbyes, Ava turning left to continue down a level, and Ora turning right towards her Grandmothers stall. It was lunch time, so of course the market was buzzing with hungry Dwarves, all expertly navigating themselves around the stone paths of the market. Ora slalomed around the bodies, dodging an especially dirty looking minor as she neared the stall.

"There you are, Ora. For the love of Mahal I was getting worried."

From out of the shop doorway came a small, elderly Dwarrowdam. Her white hair shone like fresh snow and the few whips of a beard clung to her chin like roots. She was skilfully balancing a plate piled with the fresh honey buns Ora had put in the oven just before she'd left for lunch.

Ora smiled at her Grandmother as she drew closer, "I'm not late G'ma, I made sure."

The blue eyed elderly woman scoffed, "Leaving me here all on my own to deal with the lunch rush!"

"I believe it has just started." Ora snickered, brushing past her Grandmother and reaching for her apron that hung on a hook by the door, "and besides, I made plenty before I left." She then turned back and swooped in, taking the buns from her Grandmother and setting them out on the stool for her.

Once finished Ora wiped her hands on her apron before retreating back into the safety of the shop, smiling at her grandmother as she passed her, who was still huffing and puffing.

"Anyway, I was only late because we got mobbed." Ora called out to her grandmother from the shallow shop innards. Carved out of the mountain behind the front of the stand was a small, but well equipped kitchen. It needed some repair, having not been used for the entire duration of Smaug's presence in the mountain, but it was clean, and worked well enough. She set out preparing a new round of custard tarts.

"Mobbed?" Replied Poe- Ora's grandmother- from front of shop, where she always was. Ora was the baker, and Poe was the pretty face- or so she liked to call herself. Ora had learnt everything she knew about baking from her grandfathers recipe books, Poe was a horrendous cook, even when she followed instructions whatever she made turned black. But Ora's grandfather had died before Smaug attacked. Ora's grandparents had always run this stall, but now Ora was taking her grandfathers place. She had inherited his skill, but hopefully not his vast belly.

"Ay. There's a gaggle of crows loitering around the King's hall."

"What that sharp tongue of yours, girl. You might cut yourself with it. And what the Ladies of the Court do is none of your business."

She was right, Ora knew she was. But everyone knew Prince Fili was King Thorin's heir, yet those Dwarrowdam's persistently pestered the King. He'd done so much for all of them, and Ora was sure he deserved some peace and quiet. But then again, if he wanted to he could easily tell them to leave, after all he was their King.

Ora shrugged, coming to the conclusion that he may in fact enjoy constant female attention. Which wasn't unlikely.

"Are those scones ready yet, Ora?" Poe called from front of shop and instantly Ora's train of thought derailed.

"Yes!" Ora replied quickly, abandoning her pastry making and grabbing a nearby plate, loading it up with the scones from the hot stone before handing it to her grandmother who was already waiting patiently in the door frame.

"And we're running low on honey buns."

"Already? We just put them out."

"It's a busy lunch, dear." Poe smiled before disappearing out the door. Leaving Ora to fend for herself in the kitchen.

The rest of lunch whizzed by, but of course time always speeds away when you need it the most. Ora was kept on her toes baking, whirling around the small kitchen like a flour covered tornado. Before she knew it the lunch time rush was over and she was just finishing cleaning up. Usually after lunch she was able to leave as long as all the cakes and pastries were stocked up to last the rest of the day. Lunch was of course the busiest time of day, business consisted of hungry miners and tinkers buying up half a dozen sweet bakes at a time, but once that time was over business calmed and Ora was no longer needed to provide a constant flowing supply of baked goods.

After pushing the last clean bowl onto the shelf in its rightful place, Ora grabbed her bag from the floor by the door where she'd left it when she'd arrived that morning, and pulled out a loose, white training shirt and brown, cotton breeches. She pulled the new attire on, carefully folding her day dress up and gently placing it back in her bag, cautious not to crease it or else her mother would have her guts for garters. She then pulled a pair of long socks from the side pocket of her bag and kicked off her fur lined ankle boots.

Just as she was pulling up her final sock Ava came bowling into the kitchen, a honey bun in one hand and a cherry tart in the other.

"Afffrr oon!" The brunette sprayed bun all over the floor as she greeted Ora.

"Urgh! Do you mind? I've just mopped." Ora stood, pulling her boots back on. "Are you ready?"

Ava nodded violently, only pausing to take another stupendously large bite of the bun.

"I'll see you tomorrow g'ma." Ora bid her grandmother goodbye as she left the shop, she paused momentarily to place a light kiss on the tiny woman's head.

Poe merely waved Ora away, too engrossed in conversation with another Dwarf with equally white hair and a matching long, thick beard, which forked out at the bottom.

Ora didn't know this Dwarf, so she simply offered him a friendly smile before departing. Trailing behind Ava as they made their way back up to the higher levels where the training yard was. The yard was located between the ground floor and the market, still deep enough underground but not so deep that the Nobles had to travel too far to use it.

Both Ora and Ava were middle classed, respectable and relatively well known in these parts of the mountain. Ora came from a highly regarded background, her father used to be (and still is in Ora's eyes) a fierce warrior, he fought with honour at the Battle of Azanulbizar alongside Thror and while Ora and her family were wandering he fought to protect them all. He was now busy training up Giora, Ora's older brother, to follow in his footsteps.

Ora used to fight, but she hasn't picked up a sword (other than to teach Ava) in nearly thirty years, not since the accident anyway. After that she refused to wield a weapon ever again, she was expertly good but gave it up in a heartbeat. Her father and eldest brother had trained her and Giora up whilst they were wandering and without a home, mainly out of necessity rather than choice. Wandering in the Wild is not for the faint hearted, and while they were homeless and sleeping in whatever shelter they found they had to protect themselves.

But now she would just watch and tell Ava what to do. Ava was five years older than Ora, and the complete opposite. She had not grown up in a warrior household and instead her father had been a miner and her mother a maid. Her father had perished in Smaug's attack, having been trapped in the mines, and her mother only just escaped. Ava now sought vengeance in the form of slaying her enemies.

Ava popped the last piece of pastry into her mouth just as they entered the training yard, brushing her hands together to get rid of the evidence.

"Sister dearest!"

A deep voice to Ora's right bellowed as soon as she stepped over the threshold of the yard. She snapped her head towards the voice just in time to be ploughed into by the mop of dirty blonde hair that was her brother, Giora.

"Mahal, save me!" She cried as she was bowled clean over, falling into the sand, dust and dirt that covered the yards floor. It was supposed to cushion the landing... supposed to. "Giora, get off!"

Giora let out his roar of a laughter and jumped up, extending his large hand out to his little sister who bitterly ignored it and pulled herself up, brushing herself off as she did so.

"Don't you have better things to do than knock over your little sister?" Ora scowled, folding her arms over her chest and glaring up at her brother. Giora grinned cheekily down her, his thick, bushy blonde beard and mass of wild matching hair a total mess on and around his head. His bright blue eyes sparkled from under his thick eyebrows.

"Oh course not!" His booming voice travelled to either end of the yard. "What sort of brother would I be if I didn't take time out of my day to express my love for my little sister?"

Ora just grumbled inaudibly under her breath in response.

"Oh, sister dearest, you're a total state."

Before Ora could even move Giora had licked him thumb and smeared his spit across her left cheek.

"Giora!" She shrieked, jumping away from him and vigorously rubbing her cheek in an attempt to remove his germs.

Giora just rolled his head back and roared with laughter once more, his thick chest bouncing with every noise. He then turned away, still laughing and looking far too pleased with himself.

"Uck!" Ora wrenched.

"You do actually have a little bit of flour there." Ava reached up to try and rub Ora's cheek also, but the latter swotted her hand away grumpily and stomped away towards a free ring.

The training yard was more or less a large, bare stadium. In fact, large was an understatement. It was humungous. It was a rectangular shape and surrounded by tiers and tiers of stone benches, this was for when there was a festival or an event on as usually the entirety of Erebor would want to watch. But at the moment the stands were more or less empty, only a few onlookers sat scattered around but usually they weren't truly paying attention.

The floor was covered in the outlines of circles, which indicated each individual ring for Dwarves to practice their skills in. When there was an event these rings were wiped out and replaced by one large ring in the centre of the arena.

On the far left hand wall sat row upon row of weapons, although these were hardly touched. Nearly every Dwarf who came here brought their own weapon. Ora's weapon of choice was an axe, but she'd must rather prefer hand to hand combat. She was fast and small, nimble on her feet and could throw a vicious punch. However, Ava was not so good.

"Come on, like this Ava, like this." Ora tried again, demonstrating how to kick a sword out of an enemies hand by leaning back, ducking, sliding, and then raising her leg fast enough to gain enough momentum to kick to opponents elbow when they're in mid swing. Poor Eri (a young Dwarf Ava and Ora had grabbed from one of the stands) stood there shaking as Ora's foot collided gently with his elbow. Obviously she was doing it in slow motion to demonstrate, but every time Eri panicked and dropped the sword he was awkwardly holding with a squeak.

Ava sighed dramatically, "I can't do it! I'm so bad at this. Can't we do something else?"

"No." Ora replied, reaching to pick up the sword Eri had dropped. "You're the one who signed yourself up for the trio event." Ora was referring to the Bulûr Maldarâm, an annual event where Dwarves and Dwarrowdams get the chance to show off their skills to everyone. There are a number of events, and for some reason Ava had sighed herself up to the trio event which was sparring, knife throwing and hand to hand combat. The latter was not a skill Ava had yet wielded, this gave Ora until the fourth week of winter to get her to competing standards.

"But it's hand to hand combat, " Ava whined, despite being a young adult, "I won't need to know how to kick a sword out of some ones hand."

"And what about in battle? What about when you're in the middle of a brawl and your sword slips from your grasp and the enemy is gaining ground? What then?"

Ava sighed, knowing this was venturing onto sensitive grounds. "I'm sorry." She mumble, taking her stance once again.

.

.

.

"It's freezing out here!" Marg exclaimed through chattered teeth, her chocolate brown hair blowing around her face as it came loose from its perfect, intricate braids. She descended the steps of Erebor, arms wrapped around her tightly for warmth and with Ava in tow.

"Look at all the snow!" Ava exclaimed, jumping down the last few steps and hurrying off towards Ora and Uli, where the two friends were happily building a snowman, until Ava ploughed straight threw it.

"Ava!" Uli scolded, smacking the brunette around the back of the head.

"Do we have to be out here?" Marg complained, shuffling towards the three friends, and looking less than please about the weather.

"It's the first snow of winter," Ora replied, using her mitten covered hands to start rebuilding the snowman. "So yes."

Marg huffed and plopped down in the snow next to Ava who was already starting on a snow angel.

"Is Giora around?" She suddenly asked.

"You're infatuation with my brother is weird." Ora's face shrivelled at the thought.

"I don't have an infatuation with him." Marg scoffed defensively.

"No, she's in love with him." Ava mocked in a gooey voice.

"Think of that," Ora began, scrambling to her feet and making her way to were Marg sat cross armed in the snow, "we could be sister-in-laws!" As soon as the words left her lips she shoved some snow that she'd been hiding behind her back down the back of Marg's dress, causing the chocolate haired Dwarrowdam to scream as the icy cold snow touched her bare skin.

"Ora!" She screeched, jumping to her feet and chasing after the howling blonde. The pursuit was short lived however, being cut short by a loud, ear piercing scream. The sort of scream that made your blood run cold and your heart stop beating.

The four Dwarrowdams shared a look before a scene that was unfolding on the partially frozen lake caught their attention.

A small group was congregating on the ice, and a female, maybe thirty years Ora's senior stood looking down into the ice, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. Behind her were two men, trying to drag her away from the hole in the ice as she tried desperately to reach it.

"A little Dwarfling's fallen in!" Someone shouted, "He's fallen through the ice!"

If Ora's blood was cold before, it had turned to ice now.

"Ora, no! Don't!" Ava scream, jumping to her feet and racing after Ora who had started running towards the ice, "Ora!"

But it was too late, Ora shed her thick fur coat and kicked her boots off, sliding onto the ice at top speed. She completely ignored Ava at her heels, she completely ignored the cries of her kin as she jumped through the break in the ice and into the water beneath it.

The water knocked the air out her lungs in an instant, and instantly her head felt like it had exploded. The water was beyond freezing, it felt like she'd been punched in the gut and for a moment she was paralysed. But then she remembered, through the icy, murky water was a silhouette, an object sinking deeper into the abyss.

Ora didn't think, she just acted. Kicking her bare feet into movement she pushed away from the ice. She struggled against the water, against the temperature so cold she thought her heart was going to cave in there and then. But it didn't, it kept pumping, it kept racing, and working off adrenaline alone Ora neared the little boy. She grabbed hold of his tiny hand, trying to ignore the fact that his skin was as cold as the water that surrounded him. His eyes were open, but he was unseeing and his mouth slightly ajar. Ora hoped for the best and pulled him towards her, wrapping one arm around him before kicking back towards the surface.

But this little boy was just like many Dwarflings and he was chubby, and Ora found herself struggling with his weight. She needed to breathe, her lungs on the verge of exploding and her body on the brink of an involuntary inhale.

She quickly pulled off his heavy boots and coat. The loss of this extra weight was just enough for her to scramble through the water and reach the surface. The hole in the ice was obvious, through Ora's blurry vision she followed the bright light that seeped through the gap and the splashing of hands in the water to guide her.

She broke the surface with a painful gasp. Within seconds, multiple hands grabbed at her and the boy still in her arms, pulling them apart and out onto the ice. Instantly Ora was wrapped in multiple coats and blankets by a number of Dwarves and pulled away. She was delirious, as if stuck in some sort of bubble of pain. She watched helplessly as she was escorted away from the little boy on the other side of the ice. All she could see were his two feet poking out the bottom of a huddle of Dwarves that immediately surrounded him and enclose him. His mother was still weeping, her cries echoing through Ora's throbbing brain.

Ora was led straight back into the warm walls of Erebor. As soon as she entered the mountain the heat hit her much like the icy water had, punching her straight in the gut and causing her to double over, spluttering and gasping.

"What's going on?" Came a deep, velvety voice that Ora did not recognise. "What's all this commotion?"

Ava was instantly at Ora's side then, taking over from an unknown burly Dwarf and ready to catch and support her weak friend.

"A little boy fell through the ice, my King. This young lady jumped in after him."

Ora's head was swimming. She could not breathe, she couldn't talk and she couldn't see. Her lungs were on fire and her legs ached terribly. Her head was bowed and her blonde hair hid her face like a soaking wet curtain. She began to shiver violently.

"Quickly, take her to the healer." Came the deep voice again, and within an instant multiple hands were back on her. Uli and Ava on either side and Marg in front, shouting at various Dwarves that got in the way and creating a path for them.