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"So, Fléin, do sit down. I'm sure you know my job, eh?"
Fléin nodded. He took his place on the couch, but kept his eyes on the window to his left incase another bird came.
"So, how close were you to your father as a child?"
Fléin sighed inwardly. This was not going to be an easy session. He tried to explain, as well as possible, the complexities of Dwarf families and their differences from Men. "You see, we don't display our gender so flagrantly as you humans," he had finished.
All the time, Freud had been taking notes. He looked up into Fléin's eyes, then smiled wryly. "I'm afraid this doesn't bode well. No father figure... Yes... most damaging. Tell me, how old are you?"
"A hundred and a bit," he said.
"And in all this time you've felt no desire to marry?"
Again, Fléin tried to explain the Dwarf customs, but he suspected Freud was only hearing what he wanted to hear.
"Do you feel attracted to anybody?"
Fléin stuttered. He didn't feel like telling this man about Wilhelmina. But then, it was for his mental good. He spilt the beans.
"Wilhelmina? I think I saw her enter the building. Small, squat, wrinkly?"
"Hmm."
Freud sighed, snapped his notebook shut and looked directly at Fléin. "I'm afraid you are a homosexual," he said.
Fléin snapped his head away from the window and glared at the man. "How on Arda did you come to that conclusion? What about Wilhelmina!"
Freud smiled softly. "She's no more a womanly woman than I am."
Fléin felt himself boiling, but restrained himself. Let the imbecile believe what he wanted, if he could leave more quickly. "Actually, now that you mention it, I do find Anakron quite appealing. What's the cure?"
Freud shrugged. "Homosexuality isn't actually a disorder, you know. As such, I can't treat it. You'll have to get used to it."
"What do you mean it's not a disorder! It's abominable!"
"See, you need to get past all these feelings of yours. Learn to accept yourself for who you are, Fléin. Tell me, why do you keep looking out of that window?"
"A Slan is on the move," Fléin replied without thinking, immediately regretting it.
"A Slan? A "sine loco, anno, vel nomine?" Some nameless, placeless, timeless thing is moving?" He scribbled frantically. "I'm afraid you're delusional, my dear Dwarf.
"Delusional? The Birds told me!"
"Completely nutty! No wonder with such poor parenting."
Fléin suddenly felt a deep hatred of the man. "What did you say about my parents?" he demanded through his teeth.
"Poor parenting. No common sense. Gender Ambiguous."
"They were NOT!" Fléin raged at him. His scar burnt, far worse than the dull pain of his bruises, and suddenly...
Freud swelled up. Like a balloon, he swelled bigger and bigger. Fléin watched in amazement, anger gone, as he ballooned out into a sphere and floated to the ceiling.
Fléin jumped out of the couch, opened the door and bellowed down the corridor: "Somebody fetch Doctor Hookbill!"
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