Hiraeth - Thorin Oakenshield

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Peace. The concept of the word twisted the mind of Mylaela, how could one truly be at peace when there is so much wrong with the world? Every being is plagued with greed. Evil and death would continue to riddle the world as long as greed existed.

How could one be at peace knowing every being is eventually burdened with the curse of death? How could one permit themselves to become attached to another being knowing they would eventually witness their downfall?

After roaming middle earth for nearly 9 millennia, Mylaela grew tired of watching those she cared about whither away or face their downfall due to greediness. After experiencing enough tragedy, Mylaela became a vagabond.

She spent nearly three thousand years traveling the lands of middle earth, helping out with threats penetrating the smaller kingdoms, while on a much bigger journey to reclaim something valuable to her bloodline. Though the longer she stayed away from those she cared about, she grew lonely.

Her heart ached to visit her family once more, though her stubbornness nipped at the back of her mind. Mylaela sat in front of a large pint, tapping the wooden table rhythmically. Her hood shielded her face, as well as her ears. The Prancing Pony was a common ground for all folk, though she had lived long enough to know an Elf would earn a few wandering gazes.

The tapping of her finger stopped abruptly as the chair in front of her was pulled out, a figure sitting across from her. Without shifting her head, she shot her eyes forward to face the being who disrupted her.

"I was hoping I would find you here," a scratchy voice spoke across from her, Mylaela slowly lifting her head to face him fully.

"May I ask why you were searching for me, Mithrandir?" She hummed, beginning to tap once more. The wizard let out a low chuckle, looking at something behind her back.

"I could use your assistance," he gestured behind her. Mylaela slowly glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on a large group of Dwarves drinking cheerfully, accompanied by a single Hobbit, "Thorin, Son of Thrain, has set out on a journey to regain Erebor. Though, I fear he may not be successful alone. I came to ask for your assistance."

"You believe I would assist a dwarf to reclaim his homeland?" She scoffed, grasping the handle of her pint firmly, "Do you forget what they did to my family?"

"I believe your assistance could help rebalance peace between the races," he explained as she took gulps of her ale, "and I had hope you would put your differences aside, and help those less fortunate. Is that not what you set out to do after Isildur's fall?"

Mylaela nodded hesitantly, "you are lucky I am in a generous mood, Uncle."

Gandalf smiled, standing from his seat as Mylaela followed his actions. The wizard walked over to the Dwarves, the Hobbit being the only one to glance at the two approaching.

"Thorin," Gandalf acknowledged, gaining the attention of all of the Dwarves, "this is the warrior I had mentioned prior."

"This is the mighty warrior?" The Dwarf mocked, standing from his chair, "a coward who hides behind a cloak?"

Mylaela let out an annoyed sigh, dropping her hood. The look of disapproval only furthered as his eyes drew to her ears, "An Elf? I refuse to have an Elf accompany us."

"Mylaela will be a valuable asset, I can assure you," Gandalf countered. Mylaela observed the company. The Dwarves grimaced in disapproval of the Elf, while the Hobbit stared at her in awe.

"This is my family's legacy, I will not have our quest sabotaged by a She-Elf!"

Gandalf slammed his staff into the ground forcefully, "Mylaela's addition is not debatable."

Thorin scowled, shoving past Gandalf to where the Dwarves would be staying for the night.

Gandalf let out a small chuckle, "I think that went quite well."