Responds to first prompt in the Week of Orwal. I don't know if I'll reply to all of them, depends on my work-schedule next week. But this one practically wrote itself. I'm really getting lost in this ship.
Living in the Blue Mountains was alright. Having spent most of his life on the road with his brothers, Ori enjoyed that he now lived a place where many other dwarves dwelled as well. He could imagine that living in Ered Luin, wasn't too different from how living in Erebor would have been.
Ori knew that the older dwarves longed for their home, and that longing had been passed on to their younger kinsmen. Ori too, felt the ache in his heart for Erebor, he too dreamed of one day reclaiming his home and finally seeing that wistful smile on Dori's lips, turn into true happiness.
This is why he approached the King's guard in the first place.
There had been rumours going around the mountain for weeks now. Thorin was seeking companions for his quest to take back their home. The time was now, the signs had been read and if they ever wanted to reclaim Erebor, they had to strike now, before someone else did.
In the end, Ori had been granted an audience with one of the King's trusted friends, not the King himself. Which, Ori had to admit, he was grateful for. The thought of meeting the King was a daunting one, and he felt far more at ease knowing that he didn't have to face it yet.
He had been summoned to a meeting by the gate to the upper-class homes, a place Ori normally didn't dare to venture, and had been led there by the stern dwarven warrior, who had delivered the message. It all went so fast that the flustered Dori, who just now learned of his younger brother's plans, didn't even have any time to protest before Ori was dragged out the door.
By the gates stood a tall, bulky dwarf, who turned as the guard leading Ori called out his name, Dwalin.
Ori felt his stomach turn into knots as Dwalin's eyes fell on his, assessing him by his appearance already. Ori knew he wasn't much to look at, and this would defiantly work to his disadvantage, but where he lacked strength and bulk, he instead carried bravery, stubbornness and a quick mind. Things he was certain was also needed on the quest.
Dwalin was a prime example of everything good in dwarven culture. He was handsome, rugged and built as the mountains in which they dwelled. His massive form was decorated with rune-tattoos, piercings and scars, all a testament to his strength in battle and life. He had a strong jaw, with a fine beard, a naked head, also covered in tattoos, and a stern look in his eyes as he gazed at Ori.
As he spoke, his voice was a deep baritone, with a rumble that sent shivers down Ori's spine.
"You Ori?" he asked, his hand already placed between the younger dwarf's shoulder blades, leading him away from the guard, who in turn took Dwalin's place at the gates.
Ori nodded, not able to find his voice in the presence of the warrior, just yet.
"The King has heard your answer to his call, and has assessed the proposal you make."
Dwalin paused, his gaze once again falling on the young scribe, and Ori felt, that somehow it was much softer this time.
"He feels that you are correct, we could very easily need men like you on his quest, learned-dwarves are a scarce thing in Ered Luin, and he wishes to welcome you on his quest."
A sigh of relief left Ori's body at the words, the fear of rejection quickly disappearing. Gazing up at the dwarf in front of him, he saw Dwalin's lips stretch in a small smile, which Ori returned tenfold, the fear of the older dwarf quickly disappearing in the light of his new situation.
"Thank you very much, Mister Dwalin!" Ori exclaimed near bursting with joy, "I better hurry home and get prepared," perhaps also tell his elder brothers about this, a thought that dimmed his mood considerably.
"Yes, you better," Ori was surprised at the warm laugh Dwalin let out making the young dwarf's heart stutter in his chest, "further information on the quest will be sent to you as soon as there is some."
"Thank you, Mister Dwalin!" Giving a quick bow, Ori turned on his feet, near stumbling at his excitement, and hurried home. And if he at the back of his mind hoped that Dwalin would be joining the quest as well, the scribe didn't acknowledge it, nor the queer feeling the thought gave him.