A Better Place - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Alternate Entry Twenty-Five - Unexpected Pains

He pulled up a seat off to my side where I could see him if I looked down far enough, and lit his pipe, prepared for the wait. "I'm sure we'll find something not terribly boring to talk about to pass the time."

As I later learned, Bofur's first stop wasn't Dale. He went instead to the homes of the nearest Company members and got them roused into his search, and while they rustled the others to search Erebor he and Balin borrowed ponies and sprinted down to Dale, where Bofur leaped off his technically stolen steed, ran up the steps to Bard's house and began hammering on the door.

After what he described as 'several minutes' a butler opened the door with a lantern in hand and a heavy scowl on his face. "Do you have any idea what house it is you disturb at this hour?" he growled, holding the light into their faces.

Bofur waved his hands in dismissal. "Tell Bard it's about Mabyn. She's sick. We need to ask him if there are any elves in Dale tonight."

The butler muttered and grumbled. "Wait here." He slammed the door on them.

And Bofur and Balin waited. "What did the healer say?" Balin whispered to Bofur.

"He said her appendix is irritated, and has to be removed," Bofur whispered back.

They waited in the early summer night's silence then, until Bard himself, wrapped in a dressing robe over his sleeping tunic, opened the door and hastened them inside. "What is it you need?"

"Mabyn's appendix is irritated and our healer needs to remove it. At best we can get her drunk for the surgery but she says elvish wine will work better. Are there any elves in Dale tonight?"

Bard nodded, and traded his dressing robe for a light coat, temporarily handing the lantern to Balin. "I'll take you. There are some here on business."

Out into the darkness they went, Bard leading the way. At last they reached the inn at which the elves were staying, and let themselves up to the room the elves apparently held, where he knocked in rapid succession. "Master Soreis, I hate to wake you but I need your help."

A tall, pale-haired elf in a long tunic opened the door in only seconds, emerging into the hall and closing the door behind himself so his companions needn't be troubled. "How may I assist you?"

"Mabyn needs help," Bofur cut in. "She's got to have her appendix removed and says elvish wine will get her better drunk for it than ours will; have you got any you can spare."

The elf's gaze had sharpened as soon as Bofur finished the sentence carrying the weight of Mabyn's name. "A moment." He ducked back into his room and returned before the door had time to drift closed, handing over an engraved flask. "Please have her bring it back when next she visits. This was my brother's."

Bofur accepted it with a wide grin. "Of course, I will. Thank you so very much." He and Balin hurried off without another word, Bard lingering a few moments longer to further express his gratitude. As we later discovered Soreis did not immediately return to his sleep, but instead dressed and crossed to the opposite side of town to the aviary, where he sent a bird immediately back to Mirkwood to tell Thranduil of what had occurred.

Bofur returned to the healer's room at a run and I, wincing, immediately sat up and put my legs over the side of the table to take from him the silver flask he offered. I uncorked it, tipped it back and took three firm sips, sealed it again and passed it back to Bofur.

He stared at me, baffled. "That's all?"

I laid back and made myself comfortable, rolling my long shirt up to just below my breasts. "I'll be out cold in under half an hour; that's plenty. I don't know how long it will last though." To the healer I said, "I have the habit of bleeding more than I should, so take care of that."