She dreams of Golden Hope

Cathedral where you cannot breathe

„And reflected on the faded tapestries now; the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long childhood hours when you were so afraid."- Before the summer rains, Rainer Maria Rilke

In her hand she held clutched tightly the warm mug that Master Bard's daughter had given her. The young girl had at first been startled and slightly in awe at the dwarves' arrival, but then the girl had been raised from her astonishment and had seemed timid and intimidated at the image of the rough and battle-hardened dwarves, especially Dwalin who had been carrying a harsh and angry expression since they'd had to make their way through the underground sewers and excrements of Lake Town and had entered Master Bard's home through his water closet. Seeing the slightly fearful expression of the young girl and remembering her awe when she had first met the company, Laurel had laid an appeasing hand on her shoulder as she had passed by the girl and once she had looked at her, Laurel had smiled a comforting smile, wishing not to cause their hosts too much distress. The young girl had seemed thankful and had come to Laurel first to give her a dress, that the girl had stated was hers and freshly washed, a blanket and a warm mug with a spiced warm beverage. Laurel had changed into the blue dress with its white skirt that was slightly tight at her chest but that otherwise fit her perfectly. She now sat at the window while Thorin stood beside her looking out of the window was a look of disbelief.

She furrowed her brow at the dwarves' expression. She looked to her side out the window to see what held Thorin's disbelieving with such ferocity. Following the path of his eyes, she was met with the sight of a weapon on top of a tall tower that stood central in the settlement. The edges of the tower had been worn away and appeared crumbled like ruins, but her interest was held by the large black bow that stood at its centre, aimed towards the Lonely Mountain, which's silhouette she had glimpsed on the far eastern horizon. She heard him mumble: "The dwarfish wind lance". She was just about to address him and ask him what had caused him such visible distress when Bilbo preceded her, mumbling while taking a sip from the steaming mug: "You look like you have seen a ghost." Thorin wrenched his gaze away from the sight in the window that had so astounded him to look over his shoulders at her cousin. For a few moments, the dwarfish king did not answer to her cousin's comment. Balin came up behind them and answered for his superior: "He has." Laurel furrowed her brow and listened in interest as Balin started his tale:

"The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came. The day that Smaug destroyed Dale. Girion, the Lord of Dale, crowded his bowman to fire at the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough. Tougher than the strongest armour. Only a black arrow fired from a wind lance would pierce the dragon's hide. And few of those arrows were ever made. The stores were running low when Girion made his last attempt."

Laurel had looked down into the contents of her mug, as the occurrences of the day ran through her mind's eye, accompanying Balin's narrative. She imagined a city burning like a torch on fire, with its spreading like the quickest and most flighty gale. She imagined the desperation of the archers as they shot at the beast, their aims well and true, only to see the menace utterly unimpaired. She imagined Girion, standing at the tallest tower of the city, firing black arrow after black arrow with unending hope to save his town. A hope which would prove fruitless.

She tipped her head back and looked towards Thorin with a hooded gaze, as he stated after Balin had finished his tale: "If that man's aim had been true, much would have been different." She could detect the acerbity and the bitterness in his words and once more she could feel his longing that his past had been different. Oh, how many regrets Thorin possessed. His past, his loss, his exile, the death of his grandfather and the disappearance of his father... her. She closed her eyes as she was reminded of his words and she could not help but to feel resentment and to wish that he could let go off all that caused him regret, all that caused him pain. That he could let go off the hold he had on her.