The Path I choose

A knocking on the door made her look up from the book she was reading.
A guest? At this hour?
Slowly the small Hobbit stood up to answer the door.
„Dwalin, at your service." A dwarf. A dwarf on her doorstep.
A dwarf she knew a long time ago. A dwarf who died in battle, proudly swinging his weapon.
With a blank stare she scanned the dwarf.
‚Oh Yavanna, how cruel of you'
Another moment the hobbit stood in the half open door, slowly realizing what was happening. In her empty eyes a spark lit up, after a long and cold winter. A single teardrop ran down her cheek, breaking her numbness.
„You are alive?" She wispered under her breath.
Before Dwalin could react the small hobbit jumped at him, hugging the big warrior and sobbing at his chest.

A retelling of the hobbit

This is my story of the hobbit and their journey to reclaim the lonely mountain.
I do not own the hobbit or the characters in it.