Chapter 10

"Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art- Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night and watching, with eternal lids apart like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,"- Bright Star, John Keats

Laurel watched in amazement as the dwarves proceeded to set up camp for the night. When she had dismounted Kili's pony, she had groaned at the soreness in her back, resulting from riding the entire day. It had been a long time, since she had last been on a horse. The last occurrence being two decades ago, when her mother had brought her to Belladonna Took. Since then, Laurel had never ridden and similarly as her cousin she had been most disconcerted, when thrust on the pony without prior practice. She should have been thankful, that Kili had taken it upon himself to have her ride with him, but she had been incredibly embarrassed by his forwardness and her shyness had rebelled against the closeness of their bodies. Yet Kili had not listened to any of her interjections and soon Laurel had acquiesced, especially after she had perceived her cousin's difficulty with riding on his own.

They had ridden the entire day and now the dwarves were sitting up camp. Bilbo was sitting on a log, adjacent to the clearing, where they would be resting for the night and he was currently enjoying a pipe in the company of the wise wizard Gandalf. She supposed she could go join them, but she had never liked the burnt and deeply herbal scent of pipe smoke and she was enthralled watching those creatures, which she had read so much about in her childhood and which she had always admired for the stories she had read about them. So she simply sat beneath a myrtle tree, which's shade protected her from the warmth of the late afternoon sun, that was setting and disappearing in the horizon behind her, with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on her kneecaps. She observed the individuals of the race, she had always raced off into the woods, surrounding Bag End in the hopes of finding. Her cousin had always been obsessed with elves and he had always looked for her kin, but she... She'd always held a fascination with these sturdy folk. If asked about the origin of this interest, she would have been unable to answer. It was simply something she had possessed, since the earliest days of her childhood. She could at times recall the fastidious ways her late mother would talk about dwarves. She recalled snippets of conversations between her mother and her father and she remembered that one of her father's companion in his last quest had been a dwarf and she could remember how disapproving her mother had been of this company. With amusement she thought of how her mother would react, if she could see Laurel in a company lead by the proudest of dwarves. Perhaps her fascination was a petty way to spite her mother, a mechanism of revenge that she had unconsciously adopted to avenge her mother's abandonment. But as she looked on at the working men with a curious expression, she knew that it was not so... That there was something profounder about her interest.

Not for the first time, Laurel compared the dwarves with the male Hobbits of the Shire and again it did not fail to amaze her, how different the two were. Even the tallest Hobbit man in the Shire was still about a head smaller than Thorin Oakenshield, who was almost unnaturally tall for a dwarf. Laurel remembered that after she had dismounted the pony, Thorin Oakenshield had come up to her and ordered her to fetch water. During that time, she had once more been reminded of how imposing their leader was, because she was so much smaller than him, she only came up to a little below his shoulders. She had grown flustered and intimidated at his proximity and at seeing his distinct height advantage and, without uttering a sound, she had quickly scampered off and gone to do her task. So averagely, dwarves were much taller than Hobbits and much stockier, which made them appear stronger and more battle-hardened. Like warriors, Laurel would often think in childlike awe and then she would shake her head in self-deprecation. She was no longer a starry-eyed infant and these men, while courageous no doubt, were not the idealistic and heroic motifs she had read about in her and Bilbo's books. It would not do to idealize them, especially since she would travel with them for a few months at the least. Yet as she watched the dwarves quickly and efficiently setting up camp, she could not help but feel respect for them, due to their efficiency. They were hard-working folk and their naturally weathered demeanor, opposed to the comfortable and soft appearance of Hobbits, hinted at their persevering dexterity. It wasn't that Hobbit men were useless and lazy. No, it would be unfair of her to say so, considering both Hamfast, who worked relentlessly in agriculture and Bilbo, who was most proficient and often helped her in her chores. But the dwarves... She knew that they worked much more and she wondered about the women of their race, if the men relied on the women to do homely chores.

She wanted to find out more about their race, and perhaps that was unwise, because she knew almost nothing about dwarven costumes and her curiosity could be easily misconstrued as nosiness and rudeness, especially if she asked them something that was highly personal and private. She wondered if they already thought her impolite and intrusive for overhearing their singing last night. She wondered if perhaps she had offended them with her questions and with the verbal tirade, that had sprung out of her, due to the guilt she had felt for misjudging them. She wondered if her comment of compassion had been obscene and insulting to Thorin Oakenshield. But most of all, she wondered if they had already formed an opinion of her and if so, what it was. She knew that most dwarves, especially the leader, thought themselves superior to both Bilbo and herself, due to the fact that they had limited knowledge of weaponry and surviving in the wild. She knew that it was not far-fetched to assume, that some dwarves, especially the more severe ones, even resented their presence and thought them to be only liabilities. But it was unfair to think about all dwarves in this manner, to judge all of the company based on the actions of some. Fili and Kili had been most kind with her, and she did find the energetic behavior of the two young dwarves quite amusing and endearing. They seemed to have welcomed her and were most kind with her. Bofur, the dwarf that had annoyed her during last night's council, due to his constant teasing of her cousin and the fact that he had caused Bilbo to faint, had redeemed himself in her eyes through his compassionate gesture of offering a ripped piece of clothing to her cousin, as handkerchief and through his openness toward both Bilbo and her.

But during the day's ride, she had overheard a conversation between Dwalin and Gloin, where the two had most extensively discussed the shortcomings of the elven race. Even now, she could still hear the offensive and cruel remarks of the bald, tattooed dwarf and the derogatory reference that Gloin had made of Elves as 'tree-shaggers'. She could still hear the malicious chuckling of the other dwarves, who had been in the vicinity and she recalled the amount of effort it had taken to hold herself back, when the only thing that she had truly wanted, was to have reprimanded both of the dwarves, who were offending her mother's race. Any contact that Laurel had had with her mother's kin and culture had seized after Elauriel had left her with Belladonna at Bag End, yet she had still found herself fiercely protective toward Elves and her heritage and had resented both of the elder dwarves quite strongly for the offense, they had unknowingly bestowed on her. She had not pondered on Gandalf's warning too greatly until now. There had been other things to occupy her mind, but as she reflected upon them now, she began to grow worried. She had personally witnessed the acerbic acrimony of the dwarves toward elves and she knew that they would condemn her for even being half an elf. She would have to be most cautious with her heritage, if she did not want the reserve of the dwarves toward her to turn to hostile ill will. She sadly meditated if the behavior of the dwarves, who had been kinder toward her would have been different if they knew the entire extent of her heritage.

She continued to study the dwarves and not surprisingly her eyes finally came to rest upon him. He was towering over the dwarves, who were just finishing with their tasks and with impassiveness he was studying his company, almost supervising them with silent authority radiating off him. He already resented her and her cousin most greatly, his prejudice thought them to be inconsequential and beneath him. She wondered how he would treat her if he knew that she was a part of the race he despised. He would hate her then, if he did not do so even now. And he would most certainly never allow her to continue on their quest, really, expulsion was the lightest of the punishments she could fear of him. She tipped back her head and closed her eyes, he felt resentment toward her, yet she felt... She felt that frustrating, enraging, elating familiarity that had taken a hold of her, when she had first seen him. She had spent some time pondering this queer feeling and it unnerved her, because she could not place it. She could not reason why this man, who she had never seen before in her life, did not seem like a stranger to her.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by Bombur's jovial voice announcing that dinner was ready. She rose and slowly made her way toward the fire, where the chubby dwarf was spooning stew into the bowls, that had been brought with the company. As Laurel waited for her turn, she took the opportunity to look around the camp. She was looking in Bilbo's and Gandalf's direction, the two individuals were already eating their stew and she would go to them and join their company. Yet her eyes were inadvertently drawn to Bifur, the dwarf that had most disconcerted her when she had first met him, not only due to the axe implanted in his skull, but also due to the fact that he could not communicate with her, as he did not speak Common and only spoke to other's with hand gestures. He kept to himself most of the time, similarly now, as he sat a little distance away from Bofur. From Kili she had found out that Bofur and Bombur were his cousins, but both of them were quite jovial and talkative fellows and no doubt did not revel in the reticent company of the silent dwarf. Appearance wise, Bifur was one of the more intimidating of the dwarves with his thick beard and his black and white hair and his hard eyes. As she saw the dwarf, who was sitting beside his cousin, yet was by himself, because Bofur was busy talking to Dori, she suddenly felt an urge and as Bombur handed her a bowl of stew, she asked him: "Bombur, does your cousin understand Common?" "Aye lass, he would understand what you say, but he just can't speak it, something to do with the axe in his head." She nodded her head and then she said: "Would you mind giving me another bowl? I'll bring it to your cousin." Bombur smiled at her and indulging acquiesced to her requests.

Ignoring the stares from the members of the company, who had grasped her intentions she moved toward the quiescent dwarf, who looked up at her, when she came to a stop before him. She did not allow herself to be discouraged by his impassive expression and with a small smile, she handed him the bowl, before sitting down on the ground beside him with the log he was sat on as a support for her back. She ignored the questioning looks of Bifur and all the other members of the company, who were now attentive to her perhaps peculiar choice of company. Looks that she could feel burning into her. Yet she did not flinch or show any outward acknowledgement of the incredulity her behavior was met with and simply ate her ration with carefreeness.

When she had finished her stew, she spied out of the corner of her eyes, that Bifur was looking at her in confusion, probably questioning why she had not sought out the company of her cousin or even of Fili and Kili. Feeling that she owed him an explanation, she shifted slightly and then looked up at him and said in a soft voice: "It is not necessary to talk in order to provide companionship to another." she smiled up at the dwarf and continued: "I must be quite honest, I enjoy your reticence. It is quite soothing, especially after spending the day in most energetic company. Also me and Bilbo always converse when in each other's company, so I find your silence quite refreshing." Seeing no acknowledgement to her words, she started to grow worried and with less confidence she stated: "We could establish gestures to converse. I know you already do, but I assume that this a dwarfish thing and I would not want to intrude on your culture." She did not look up and the camp had grown most eerily quiet, only adding to her internal agitation. She feared that she had offended Bifur and backtracking she said: "I could also just leave, if my company proves bothersome to you. If you do not wish for it." She raised her head and looked up at Bifur, who was looking contemplatively at her and for a minute, silence enveloped them both, before she saw the corner of his mouth curling up the slightest fraction of an inch and him shaking his head in encouragement, as if saying that her company was not bothersome to him. Her lips curled into a smile and she exhaled, before patting his hand lightly in a comradely gesture and turning around to stare at the flickering flames of the fire before her, enjoying her silent companion.


"Home is behind you, Bilbo. The world is ahead." Gandalf declared, while finishing his bowl of stew.

Both him and Gandalf had been enjoying each other's company, since they had decided to sat up camp for the night. They had conversed and smoked a late-afternoon pipe and Bilbo had been grateful for this facet of his routine to have been preserved. He had just finished his stew and put the bowl away, when he became aware of Laurel's absence and started to look around the camp for her familiar, feminine form. Greatest was his surprise, when he found her sitting beside the most intimidating of dwarves, Bofur's cousin. The one that could not speak Common and looked most disconcerting with the axe embedded in his head. Aghast, he wondered at his cousin's choice of Company and simply looked at her incredulously, as she spooned her stew, completely oblivious and unconcerned about the attention she had garnered.

Beside him he heard Gandalf's throaty chuckle and he turned his head to look at the wizard, when he indulgingy addressed him: "I believe you are not the only one, who is astonished at Laurel's choice of company for tonight." Bilbo furrowed his brows and looked at the rest of the dwarfish company to see what Gandalf had meant. The companionable conversation of the other dwarves had ceased and all were looking at the girl beside the mute and normally withdrawn dwarf, disbelievingly. And honestly, even Bilbo was questioning what his cousin was doing with the reticent, pensive dwarf, why she had not joined his company, the company of any other dwarf.

He only received an answer after Laurel had finished eating. He overheard his cousin's soft words to the dwarf and he immediately furrowed his brow and felt tender affection for his cousin's innocent, blind kindness and genuinety toward the dwarf and he then proceeded to gaze at the dwarf, hoping that he would not be rude to his cousin and turn her away. Yet as he saw the dwarf's stony features soften an inch, and the corner of his mouth twitching up the tiniest fraction of an inch, he became relieved. His cousin was kind to a fault, and only in rare cases was she hateful toward a person. The Hobbits of the Shire had at first been reserved and wary of her, due to her mixed heritage, but they had softened toward her after perceiving her altruistic spirit. Bilbo expected that the same phenomenon would repeat itself in the company of Thorin Oakenshield. She already seemed quite friendly with both Fili and Kili and as he looked at the members of the dwarven company, that all seemed to focus on the interactions between the Hobbit girl and the silent dwarf, he saw that both Bofur and Bombur fixed his cousin with small, grateful smirks at seeing her friendly handling of their cousin. His eyes succored every dwarf, until it came to rest upon the impassive, invulnerable leader of the company. He was surprised to see that Thorin was scrutinizing the interactions between his cousin and the dwarf, as well. He had not expected that Thorin would find interest in that. He grew even more startled, when he saw a slight softening to Thorin's steely gaze, as he looked at Laurel, who was beaming brightly and tenderly at something her dwarven companion had done and patted him on the hand gently.

Seeing Thorin's gaze at his cousin, Bilbo had the urge to avert his eyes in fear and Feeling that he had intruded in something so private and intimate. Yet when he returned his gaze at the invulnerable leader, he saw that his icy and almost angry glare had returned and wondered if perhaps he had not only just imagined it. This query plagued him even, after he had laid down beside the sleeping form of his Cousin later that night, as he looked up at the star-encrusted inky-black sky.