She dreams of Golden Hope

Orbs of the Blessed

"Bright be the place of thy soul! No lovelier spirit than thine E'er burst from its mortal control In the orbs of the blessed to shine." Bright be the place of thy soul- Lord Byron

They had all moved toward the entrance like a rehearsed, solemn procision. Any previous traces of cheer and jubilation had been swept away and had been replaced by an expectant and almost reverent solemnity, as the twelve dwarves had followed Gandalf to the entrance door, from where the ominous knocks had sounded and she and Bilbo had followed them, also in anticipatory silence, as if they had been infected by the dwarves' mood, eventhough both of them did not know, what or who had caused such a sudden and dramatic shift of mood. She was stood beside Fili, her arms crossed out infront of her chest in a subconsciously defensive stance and she was standing on the tip of her toes to be able to see what was occuring in the front, because she was stood in the far back, a mass of dwarves who were at least a few inches taller than her, in front of her, obscuring her view. She heard the creaking of the metal hinges, a shrieking sound which, with the tension in the room, sounded foreboding, as Gandalf opened the door and then she heard a deep, baritone voice: „Gandalf! I thought you said this place wasn't hard to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn't have found it at all, if it hadn't been for the mark on the door." The voice was accented and slightly liliting, yet still raspy and guttural, but differently from the roaring, throaty voice of Dwalin. A shiver ran down Laurel's spin, which at the time she had attributed to the chillt hat had swept through Bag End, due to the open door. She could feel how at the arrival of this man, the dwarves had straightened and she could practically feel the respect oozing of their forms.

Curious to see the man, who would have such an effect on this boisterous and unruly assembly of men, who had acted jovial and carefree until he had made his arrival known with the two knocks on the door, that had caused silence to descend over the halls that had been so noisy only minutes ago, she turned to Fili, who was stood beside her and who had been acting quite youthful and playful with his brother previously according to his young age, but who now held himself rigidly with solemnity and responsibility exuding from him, and she asked him in a soft whisper: „Who has arrived Fili?" Out of the corner of his eyes, he glanced at her and gave her a tight smile, when recognizing her awed curiosity and he stated: „That would be Thorin Oakenshield." He said nothing more than that, as if the name should have been explanation enough, though Laurel remained as unknowing and confused as previous. She knew that the man was of importance, the reaction to his arrival had told her as much, but he was not simply a figure of respect to these men. The way Fili had said his name in an awed and reverent way made her question, who he was, why Fili had felt that it was no further explanation than his given title was needed and that she should have known who he was by his name alone. She now longed to look upon this man and wondered what his appearance would be. Would he be a battle-hardened warrior just like Dwalin, with hard eyes and an intense gaze? Or would he be more like Balin, a wise and elderly man, whose knowledge you could see in his eyes and who you could detect with a single glance had traveled far and wide through Middle Earth?

„Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of this company: Thorin Oakenshield", she heard Gandalf's warm voice introduce the man to her cousin. The leader, he was the leader. She could now understand why all had turned so solemn and respecting when he had arrived, he was most definitely a fiercely-respected leader, one that all these twelve man were almost in awe of it seemed. The crowd had still not dispersed and the impenetrable wall they builded prevented her from seeing the occurences that were taking place closer to the entrance. „So.. this ist he hobbit.", he said and she had to strain her pointy ears, because she had wondered if she had detected a mocking tendril weaving through his words, or if she had only imagined it, because his voice betrayed his self-assuredness at the fact he knew that he was of such high-standing and that his mere presence waranted solemn respect. „Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" She started slightly at the question stated by the deep, accented voice. She did not know if it was a tradition of the dwarves to ask about battle skills during an introduction, but none of the others had, being too busy gathering food and drink to satiate their needs. „Axe or swords? What is your weapon of choice?" Bilbo had just as little knowledge of fighting as her, so this man was bound to be disappointed at their lack of skill. The only time they had even remotely done anything that resembled fighting was when they had been children and with thin branches that had fallen off trees, they had tried to reenact the battle scenes they had read about in Bilbo's book, and had wildly swung the branches to and fro, with an appaling lack of coordination. So, no, Bilbo and her had no knowledge in fighting and if the man had expected anything else from suburban hobbits of the Shire, he had been vastly disillusioned. She could hear her cousins begrudging answer and she could hear, how he attempted to induce mock-confidence in his voice, while faced with a man that was no doubt intimidating: „Well I do have some skills at conkers, if you must know. But I fail to see how that is of importance." She cringed at her cousin's response and his mention of conkers. She knew that this would carry no weight with the battle-weary fellows before her and then she heard him scoff and then say: „I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar to me." She felt indignation rise within her and she bristled at his arrogant and mocking tone. He was cruelly and derisively mocking her cousin. Now the others had teased him as well, but she had not been that angry, because she had seen that they had not been malicious in their comments and that they were playful in nature. But this man… his arrogance, his lack of manners. She felt her temper rise in her, that same fiery indignation that she had always used to defend her cousin with, when he had been teased in their childhood and before she could stop herself and remind herself of the respect and allegiance of the dwarves that surrounded her toward this figure, she spat: „Perhaps you should be more corteous to he that opens his home to you, eventhough you enter, I assure you sir, quite uninvitedly." She was gazing with fire in her eyes in the direction of the man and she took no note of Fili's shocked and wide-eyed expression at her outburst. She was too angry and then she saw how the dwarves moved over no doubt, so that their leader could see who had so disrespectfully admonished him.