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Dwalin always entered in the robes room in the middle of the night, when her shift had ended and she was sure nobody would be around to witness her trespassing.
Not that it would have been anyone's business if Dwalin loitered around the palace closet room.
Her body was the one of a warrior, taller than everyone else and broad as a boar, impressive for its muscles and deign of respects for its tattoos and scars.
Whoever was not in the military ranks would have been scared of her (also her inferiors were sometimes afraid of her), but it would still be suspicious if some servants had the chance to see the head of prince Thorin's guards enter in the dwarrowdams' sartorial quarter.
Not much for her position, but for her sex.
For Dwalin kept as the most shielded of her secrets her true sexual identification.
She presented at the eye of the observer as Dwalin, champion of dwarfish customs, verily dwarrow, verily male.
Under the heavy armour and aged leather, alongside with the displayed virility, Dwalin felt more at ease with her female side.
It would have been scandalous for the court, so no one knew about it.
Only her brother and her best friend the prince had some vague knowledge of her secret, and her desire to keep it hidden in fear of what others would say about it, and about what to her felt so right.
And as an outlet for her personality, Dwalin tried at least once a week to sneak undetected into the robes storage.
Being surrounded by shiny fabrics, fluffy pelts, decorated passementerie and precious vests permeated with expensive essences gave her a sense of tranquillity that she could rarely found elsewhere.
What changed her routine was an unexpected encounter during a full moon night.
Dwalin was caressing a silk stole when she first heard some rustling coming from the inner part of the storage, where different coats hanging from an horizontal pole shook and parted to let emerge a pale hand.
After the hand a strange fellow, with different robes dangling from the other arm of the tunic, materialized.
Dwalin couldn't really place if the new comer was a dwarrow or a dwarrowdam, or why this one seemed somewhat familiar, but the importance of the notions was dispelled by the sudden realization of being busted.
“State your name and your purpose here, or I'll assume you're not more than a petty thief and act of consequence” the hard voice of Dwalin boomed, in an attempt to distract the other from her inexplicable presence there.
“Calm down master guards chief. I'm only here to collect some material” was the flat response she received.
“How do you know I'm the guards chief?” Dwalin was dumbfounded by the nameless thief (as she had already decided what purpose had the red head in the storage).
“I would took me to be really dumb in order to not know who you are master Dwalin, son of Fundin, head of prince Thorin's personal guard.”
“I still don't know who you're and what's your plan” Dwalin was alarmed by the strange individual and the way the light eyes shone as pins on that weasel face.
“Just call me No” said the thief, raising the free hand in a placating gesture “I know, it sounds controversial but it's for the best. Can't have the entire court going around with my name on their lips.”
“Aaaand?” Dwalin continued, as to spur a dimwitted dwarfling.
“And you're too curious for your own good, master Dwalin.” No advanced toward a table where the robes on their arm were left fall. “My job has better not become common knowledge, but I can assure you my intentions here are far from stealing. I'm only borrowing. For a greater purpose.”
Then No lifted a yellow stole next to their face “What do you think about this one? For me I mean.”
Dwalin was still suspicious of the other's intention, but found herself giving advice gruffly “Saffron is not really flattering for your hair colour. Something in dark green would be better for your complexion.”
No piked up a verdant roll of material and waltzed to a full length mirror to appreciate the effect “You really are an expert in this. And here I thought you excelled only in the double axes.”
She did not take the bait for a fight.
Even tough Dwalin could not attribute a sex to No, she watched the other's vanity show off with attention.
No had androgynous features, which made it difficult to figure out their physical sex; not just that, but they also had small habits, gestures, behaviours –the way they graciously posed in front of a mirror then pranced around like a warrior, the way they spoke and moved– that continuously bounced between typically male and female, without settling with one or the other gender.
“Are you done admiring?” the red head smiled cheekily above one shoulder in her direction, the green piece of fabric still draped on the lean body.
“I still don't know why I would not denounce your presence here” Dwalin in the meantime had found a comfortable position with the arms leaning on the table.
“It's really simple, you see. You would have to explain why you were here for starting, and then you would have to defend from my charges. Why would prince Thorin's chief of the guards be in the clothes storage in the first place. Oh, and the accusations that would follow! The scandal! Dwalin son of Fundin, in the middle of the night all alone in the dwarrowdams robes room. And I'm being kind to you, I'm telling you about my venomous tongue.”
No twirled around, walking to the table and copying Dwalin's stance, but not halfway so tense as her.
“There are not many who you're telling the truth to, am I right?” the sassyness was forgotten in No's tone.
“What would be that to you?” She was panicking as her mask was revealed by this stranger and a future in disgrace not only for her, but for her brother too, was prospecting as a sure eventuality.
“Absolutely nothing” a gentle, almost sincere smile formed on No's face “your life, your choice. You've told me nothing crass about my ambiguity. In respect of that, I'll not judge you.”
The words struck Dwalin. That was not what she was expecting. She almost envisioned herself killing the other and disposing of the corpse before the sun rose. Then this dwarrow goes on being all supportive and no more honour at stake and also no more disembodying meddlesome thieves.
She was almost disappointed.
“I would like to stay here and chat more with you “ No interrupted Dwalin's musings “but I've urgent issues that need to be taken care of. Meet me here in a week time, mistress Dwalin, and I'll be at your service.”
The bald dwarrowdam gaped as the thief exited the storage, green roll under an arm and blowing kisses at her with the other hand.
After few seconds of bewilderment, Dwalin sprinted to the door in search of ulterior explanations from the mysterious individual, but no one was in sight in the hallway.
The following week was a psychological torture for Dwalin.
She was circumspect around everyone, the ones closer to her heart too. Every corner could hide the traitorous smuggler, sometimes a friend sometimes a foe in her anguished imagination. Around every corner defeat could wait for her. And anybody could be an accomplice in her demise.
Her underlings noticed her fidgety body language and were worried for the health of their commander.
So were her brother Balin and prince Thorin, but she would not confide them her concerns in fear of eavesdropper.
Finally the not really agreed on night arrived, and Dwalin found herself pacing inside the room as soon as she could.
She waited, but no one was coming forward.
To quench her anxiety, she perused the remnants of material on a shelf.
While she was busy deciding if it was more of a master work a piece of lilac velvet with lozenges embroidered in gold wire or a stole of silk inlaid with pelt, she heard someone clear their throat.
Dwalin spun around almost irate for the long wait “Finally, you Mahal forsaken thief!”
The thief, No, was standing not far from her, evidently embarrassed in a dark green dress, a big bag hanging behind their back.
“Yes yes I'm late I know” No was more subdued than the previous encounter “Well, don't look at me like I'm some kind of douche treeshagger.”
"You look different," Dwalin blurted out, though she hadn't wanted to state that out loud. The other gave a different impression wearing womanly clothes; not one of a dwarrow being ridiculous in feminine robes, no... more like they looked a dwarrowdam. But of course what the eyes could see was not all that was there to see.
“I may look different, but the substance underneath is always the same.” No curtailed “But we're not here for talking about me.”
“I'm not sure why we are here really” the bald dwarrowdam could not be more frank.
“We are here, mistress Dwalin, for your own benefit. You seem like a lost dwarfling in a human town to me.” No put on the seamstress' table the bag that they were carrying around and took out of it a dark bundle. Once unfolded it become a dress the same tonality as the one No was wearing.
“There was extra material on the roll I've sneaked out last week, so I've had my brother sew another dress. It has a different cut, but it should look good on your kind of body.” The red head passed Dwalin the cloth “Go behind the screen and put it on. I'll look the other way, but if you need help, just call.”
Dwalin stripped off effortlessly her male tunic and trousers but, while sliding on the dress was almost easy, tying up the laces on the back by herself resulted impossible.
“No? No?” She called for the other's attention, but received no answer “NOOO!”
“Yes? Sorry, you calling me that confuses me.” A red head oddly shaped as a star come out from the curtains.
“You're the one that told me to call you so.” Dwalin felt a bit ashamed to let somebody see her in that state, but soldiered on and presented the back to No.
“I know. So, what's the problem? Laces?” At the hum of assent from the other, No took the strings in hand and started knotting them. “Do not worry, it's simple for no one. Not even the most famous palace courtesans are so competent.”
As the last knot was tied, No took Dwalin for the hand and guided her behind the screen to sit on a stool. They sat on the table, at Dwalin's back, and started carding fingers through dark unkept hair receding on the dwarrowdam's nape.
“I had such a wonderful mohawk when I was younger” she felt lulled by the rhythmic motion.
“I know” No whispered while plaiting the hair in a complex way with the long beard.
“WHAT?!” Dwalin sprang up and looked the other straight in the eyes “What kind of per-”
No lifted the hands up in surrender “It's in my line of job to know everything that happens. A apprentice drops an apple in the kitchen, I know. I need to know.”
The words struck Dwalin as a revelation and suddenly she remembered where she could have seen No.
King Thror had a group of nameless and faceless people at his direct orders that served him as a efficient net of spies and occasional killers. In order to enter the group, one had to be a master in the art of every weaponry and expert in every other skills. After that, it required a constant research of informations. It was not an easy job and life expectations were shorter for them than for other soldiers.
It was with a surge of sadness that Dwalin recognized who she might had in front of her “I understand.”
She sat down again on the stool and let No comb and braid her beard as it most pleased them.
When the work was completed, No jumped down from the table and took Dwalin's hands in theirs to make the other rise up and stand in front of a mirror “I've finished. Let us have a good look at you.”
Dwalin could hear the smile in the other's voice and gladly accomplished.
Who she saw in the mirror was not the same dwarrow she saw whenever she glanced at her reflection.
There was a pretty green dress on her body that hugged pleasingly whatever curves she could have. The braids in her beard and hair were artfully knotted to declare a high born dwarrowdam in her full prosperity. She was amazed at her own appearance, but still felt something womanly was missing, when passing the hands on the silky material and at bosom height there was no plump bulge.
“Ah, I forgot about that! Don't worry” No fumbled in their cleavage and extracted two bundles of padding “Not every dwarrowdam is naturally endowed.”
With a wink, No went to rummage in a cupboard and returned with some paddings that handled to Dwalin, who immediately secured it inside her dress even if with some effort.
The bald dwarrowdam turned again to the mirror and watched enamoured as she finally presented in the fashion she really felt in her soul.
“You're beautiful”
Hearing the whispered words Dwalin turned around alarmed, having forgotten the other's presence.
“It's all thanks to you” she responded gently “How can I repay you?”
No, propped against the table, smiled kindly with a hint of mirth in it “I could use some help in the future.”
Even if it was not one of her habits, Dwalin smirked and advanced towards No who remained immobile against the board. When they were face to face, Dwalin bent down a little and kissed them on the lips.
It was a surprise when No responded to it and their tongue found each other in a sensual battle.
After that it was a blur of hands in hairs, dresses flying around and more kisses and bites.
When Dwalin's hand reached between No's legs, she found a hot and wet cave ready to accommodate her fingers.
They spent the night learning each other bodies and pleasures and when the sun rose, they parted ways with a kiss and a promise of a next time.
Dwalin started to feel more at ease with herself, and the ones close to her could see her bubbling with happiness.
And if somebody happened to pass near the dwarrowdams' clothes storage at night and heard unusual noises, none would have been the wiser.