[Saraphim]

The company was in turmoil. All of Narin's comrades were either confused, terrified, or angry.

Narin was all three. Balin was dead, they had fifty dead orcs to give thier position away with, and to top it all off, he had a beardless dwarf-maiden sitting next to him weeping.

Some tiny vestige of kindness told him to console her, and after a brief struggle with the rest of his mind, it won out. Narin sat down awkwardly next to Lin.

"Er, Linsie? Are you all right?" Narin cursed himself inwardly for calling her by her nickname.

She didn't say anything, but continued crying. Narin remembered something that he hoped would make her stop. Reaching into a pocket, he produced a large, uncut, green gem and handed it to her.

"H-here," he said nervously, stuttering like he had not done since he was a young dwarf, " I, I thought, you might, perhaps like this."

Narin was mostly afraid of getting hit in the nose again, but forced himself to remain where he was.

How I've changed since leaving Erebor, he thought.