She dreams of Golden Hope

Eulogy for my broken dreams

"In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed- But a waking dream of life and light hath left me broken-hearted." A Dream- Edgar Allan Poe

The next night she was sitting with Fili, Kili and her cousin Bilbo around the fire. Feeling the flickering flames gently warm her face, she reflected on the occurrings of today with satisfaction and lethargic contentment. They had awoken before the first lights of dawn and they had ridden the whole day only resting for a short while at midday to have some lunch. While she still felt sore from the exertions of riding and was unnaturally tired, she felt that her physical exhaustion was revunerated by the landscape she had glimpsed today during the ride. The landscape of the Shire, while healthily beautiful with lush green grass, and endless rolling downs, did have the tendency to become monotone, especially for individuals that had lived their whole lives in this area. Yet, shortly after Gandalf had conspiratorially whispered to both her and Bilbo, that they were about to cross the borders of the Shire and enter into the rest of Middle Earth, the sights that greeted had left her enthralled. They had ridden across vast green ranges, which had streams with the bluest water she had ever glanced running through them and she had sighted alpine rock formations, which had likely existed since the beginning of time, as suggested by the weathered nature of their facade. Soon Laurel could no longer see the rolling hills and the little rivers of her homeland and the nature around her had completely shifted to dense forests with old, tattered and raggedy trees. Completely different from the lofty woods that had abutted Bag End with the pines and their ambrosial trunks and the sumptuous shrubs.

Yet that had not been the only thing that had delighted her today. Bofur had been kind and open toward her and especially toward Bilbo and Laurel had been jubilant to witness the tentative approaches to friendship between her cousin and the talkative dwarf. During their lunch break Laurel had once more sought out the company of Bifur, who had been more welcoming and less reserved toward her this time around. They had utilized the time and had proceeded to establish the hand gestures that they would use, when the need to converse and communicate was existent. She had been mindful to not use any gestures, that she had seen Bifur use previously when talking with the other dwarves, rationalizing that this was a branch, a part of dwarfish language and she did not believe that it was wise to intrude on the race's customs and culture this early on, especially with the majority of the company still being wary of her and Bilbo's presence and being withdrawn toward them. She did not wish for her attempts at establishing a friendship with Bifur, whose company she genuinely desired, to warrant any ill will and resentment on part of the other dwarves. So she had spent her day in the company of her cousin and Bofur, who in turn had spent the majority of his time by her cousin's side, discussing a vast number of topics with the sensible Hobbit man, ranging from the weather to the best best technique of smoking a pipe. She had ridden with Fili today and his brother, as well as Bifur after lunch, had ridden alongside them. She had found the contrast between the brothers' constant, enthusiastic conversation and Bifur's introspective and soothing quietude to be quite amiable, and when she had shared an amused and private glance with the weathered dwarf while Fili had been proudly boasting about his vast prowess with a sword, she knew that she cared for each one of these dwarves already and that she had become quite fond of them in the limited time interval, they had spent together.

Perhaps it was because she was traveling with them on her first adventure, which was simultaneously a quest that carried an immeasurable amount of importance with each and every dwarf of Thorin Oakenshield's Company. Perhaps it was because, she was almost painfully aware that the serene pacifism that she had experienced on their journey up until now was not bound to last, because she had read the accounts of what the adventurers and travelers in her books had encountered on the road. She knew of Orcs and Goblins and Bandits and she knew that with her lacking knowledge on how to use a weapon, she was painfully unprepared for this journey. Thinking about her self-inflicted vulnerability and her helplessness caused a pang of self-deprecation to course through her. She did not want to resemble those simpering maids she had read about with Bilbo, who needed to be saved from heinous beasts, because of their own uselessness and would usually stand in the heroes' ways. She had always abhorred those figures in the stories and their dependency on the glorious templar and Laurel had always imagined herself as the heroic and appraised crusader in the stories. She would ask Fili, Kili or Bifur for some instructions, so that she could at least defend herself and would not feel so helplessly vulnerable.