Emerge the Dragonborn | The Hobbit

Chapter 15 - Ruins

      As the snow fell softly around them, Anaynah approached Bard, her footsteps muffled by the blanket of white. His silhouette was a stark contrast against the glow emanating from the Master's mansion.

"Quite the gathering, that was," she remarked.

Bard turned to her, his expression guarded yet contemplative. "Indeed," he replied, his tone betraying a hint of resignation.

Anaynah studied him for a moment before speaking again. "I understand your scepticism," she began, her voice steady but empathetic. "But their hope is not misplaced."

Bard's features softened slightly, his gaze meeting hers. "Hope," he echoed, the word heavy with both doubt and longing.

"Thorin believes in this quest with every fibre of his being," Anaynah continued, her conviction unwavering. "And I believe in him."

Bard sighed, his breath forming a misty cloud in the chilly air. "I know of too much suffering to be swayed by hope and belief alone," he admitted, his voice tinged with the weight of past failures.

Anaynah nodded, acknowledging his perspective. "I understand," she replied, her tone laced with empathy. "You doubt his heart due to the actions of his grandfather. You reprimand him. How did it feel when Alfrid tried to tarnish your name? When he compared you to Girion?" Bard, looked to her, brows furrowed, "I have naught up respect for him, he stood up alone to a serpent when no one else did. But to be defined by someone else actions is not fair. I know all too well how that feels."

Bard regarded her thoughtfully, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "We are not our forbears."

Anaynah nodded solemnly, recognising the parallel. "In times of doubt, we simply must have courage and be kind."

Bard regarded her with newfound consideration, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. "Courage and kindness," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Anaynah nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "In times of darkness, those virtues will shine brightest," she replied, her gaze steady and unwavering. "Even when the path ahead seems uncertain, they guide us forward."

Bard's expression softened a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You appear to have no fear, my lady," he observed, a note of respect colouring his tone. "Some may deem that foolish."

Bard inclined his head respectfully before turning to leave, his thoughts swirling with newfound perspective. As Anaynah watched him go, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the looming shadows of uncertainty. She hoped this wasn't the last she saw of this fascinating man.

Perhaps, in a world gripped by fear, foolishness is what's needed most.

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       The great hall of the Master's mansion was aglow with warmth and merriment as the Dwarves revelled in the hospitality of their newfound hosts. Tables laden with steaming dishes of food and pitchers of wine stretched across the room, inviting laughter and camaraderie among the company.

Thorin, seated at the head of the table, raised his goblet high, leading the Dwarves in a boisterous toast to their future success. The air was filled with the rich aroma of roast meats and the lively strains of Dwarven songs, echoing off the polished stone walls.

Anaynah found herself swept up in the joyous atmosphere, her worries momentarily forgotten as she joined in the festivities. She laughed and danced with her companions, her heart lightened by the sense of camaraderie that filled the hall.

Yet, even amidst the revelry, a shadow of unease lingered in Anaynah's mind. As she watched Bilbo and the Dwarves celebrate, a pang of guilt tugged at her heart. Anaynah stole a moment of quiet reflection, her gaze drifting to the faces of her companions, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, studying each of their faces, being sure to remember every detail. She couldn't shake the feeling that this fleeting moment of happiness might be the last they would share.