When Thorin emptied the last wheelbarrow of rubble, he sighed in relief. Finished, at last ! He had spent the whole day clearing away old bricks, rotten planks and other debris that cluttered the old forge. He was sore and exhausted, but at least tthe forge looked clean and well-ordered, now, and he felt an intense feeling of satisfaction. There was still a lot of work to do – like rebuilding some walls, or repairing the forging oven – but it was a good start. Soon, very soon, he would be able to start working iron and steel again, and earn some money. He was so impatient. After being barely more than a beggar for so long, the prospect of being a well-established, wealthy Dwarf again was making him shiver with anticipation.
He stretched his aching back, clenching his teeth against the pain. His hands were covered in blisters from pushing around the wheelbarrow, and some of them were now open and bloody. Enough for today, he decided.
It was summer and the days were long, so the sun was still shining outside when he left the forge to reach the habitable parts. Laurelin was outside, taking down the dry laundry from the lines – he could see her through the window – so he was completely alone. He sat into the nearest chair, silently making a list of everything he still needed to start working in the forge some tools, and raw material. He would have to spend to his very last coin, to buy all this in the villages of the men, down in the valley he was a bit afraid – he would have nothing left at all, if something really bad happened – but on the other side he had no choice. He sighed. He would also have to hire someone, if he wanted to run the forge properly. Someone who would help him with the forge of course, by keeping the fire alive or drawing water from the well, or handing him the tools he needed when he couldn't move from his anvil that person would also be responsible for cleaning the place at night, or buying material, or welcoming the clients and negotiating with them, or to do the book-keeping... It would not be exhausting work, yet it would have to be done. Thorin couldn't do everything himself. Ideally, this person could even move into the forge, upstairs, to be on the spot every hour of the night and day. The house was big enough.
Thorin sighed again, and watched Laurelin, who was done with the laundry now. More than once, he had thought about her, because he already knew her well and he knew she was clever, resourceful and reliable. She would be perfect to help him in his trade, yet it would mean even more work for her, and Thorin did not want to impose this on her. He would have to ask her in such a way that she doesn't feel forced to accept, and that was not easy – so he just pushed it out of his mind, for now. He would have time to think about it later.
Yet the idea never really left his mind. Every time he saw her enter the forge to bring him water or food, every time he saw her pick up a tool or sweep coal dust, he wondered what she would think of helping him in his trade.
One day I will really have to ask her, he knew it.
A few days later, when he left the village to buy what he needed from the humans in the valley below, with Balin and a few others, he asked Laurelin to come with him. Surprised, she had accepted nonetheless. In fact, Thorin didn't truly need her at his side – he had Balin for advice - but he wanted to evaluate her interests for the trade. Depending on her reactions, Thorin would know if he should or should not ask her to work with him on a daily basis. He took her along in every shop, in every smithy, taking the time to explain to her the basic principles of the art of forging he took her along as he negotiated for the price of raw material, and even as he charged his purchases in the cart. He told her what he needed and why he needed it, how to evalutate the quality of raw steel, or how to make the difference between good tools and cheap junk. Laurelin listened raptly to his every word, and by the time they reached home again, Thorin was pleasantly surprised when he realized she remembered everything.
Laurelin would do, Thorin was convinced about it now. All that remained for him to do was to find the courage to ask her.
Days and weeks went by, without any notable changes in their lives. Laurelin came early in the morning to prepare Thorin's breakfast, then she worked all day long, as she always did. Every day, she also found the time to pick wild flowers in the alpine meadows surrounding the village, to put in front of the narrow cave where her grand-mother was buried. She said a few prayers, then she returned to the forge to finish her work there. In the evening, she usually spent a few moments watching Thorin work on his swords and battle axes, and listening to him as he explained to her what he was doing. She was a quick learner, and very soon she knew enough to have a real, technical conversation with Thorin about his trade. Then, at last, when the sun sank behind the mountains, she walked home alone, very proud of this new knowledge she was building up. Life was quiet enough – quiet and reassuring – except on the days when Dis and the boys came to visit them, of course ; Fili and Kili were loud and boisterous, making everybody laugh with their antics.
In the village, the other Dwarves were slowly rebuilding their own houses, stone after stone. Most of them were very enthusiastic, and sometimes they were so eager to finish that they worked late into the night, at the light of torches of oil lamps. Some houses soon started to look quite dashing, with painted shutters and pretty flowerbeds and brand new tiles. Most of the Dwarves were very skilled with their hands, and had started earning some money by selling their artifacts to the humans who lived in the valley ; they seemed to be rather fond of these objects, and were ready to pay to acquire them, so the standard of living increased slightly for the survivors of Erebor. The toy-makers were particularly successful, as well as the wood-carvers. The mines had been rehabilitated, too ; the humans had only abandoned them because they were too dangerous, but they were still full of iron ore, and copper. Mainly copper. And the Dwarves being exceptional miners, they knew how to dig deeper and deeper without causing any accident. Life was still hard and rudimentary, but it was starting to get better.
Thorin himself sold a few swords here and there, but crafting weapons was not asy ; each sword, each axe blade, each tiny piece of an armour or chain-mail required a lot of time, and a lot of hard work. Even if he got up at the break of dawn and toiled till the sun went down again, he couldn't produce many of them, so the money still ran rather low for him ; he was still far from the wealth he had dreamed about during the very first days – he didn't even earn enough money to pay Laurelin full wages – but he knew that with time it would get better so he just kept working hard, day after day.
I am a son of Durin's line, and I won't give up so easily. He told himself every night, when he fell on his bed so exhausted that he didn't even remember what it felt like to be truly rested.
One afternoon, as Laurelin was working in the small garden behind the forge – it brought them fresh vegetables, as much as a small additional income – she saw thick dark clouds gathering in the sky. The air was stifling hot, and she was covered in sticky sweat from head to toes part of her hoped for a thunderstorm that would bring some rain and relief from the heat, but another part of her was afraid, as usual when there was a thunderstorm. She always felt small and helpless and vulnerable when she had to watch the nature unleash her fury. She quickly gathered her beans, then she entered into the forge. She felt slightly safer when she was between the strong stone walls of the house. She prepared Thorin's dinner, feeling a bit nervous but doing her best to concentrate on her tasks.
Night had fallen when the thunderstorm broke out. Rain was pouring down from the angry sky, and whipping the closed shutters of the forge. The wind was howling like a mad beast from hell, outside. More than once, Laurelin wondered if the forge would be able to withstand the storm, or if the walls would just collapse onto her head, burying her under a heap of rubble. But she didn't want Thorin to see her like a silly, frightened little mouse, so she just clenched her teeth and tried to hide her fears as best as she could.
« I don't want you to go out by this weather. » Thorin told her gently. « It's too dangerous. When I went out to feed the pony, I saw a gust of wind rip a tree from the gound, as if the tree were no more than a twig. You better stay here, where it's warm and safe. I have enough blankets, and more than enough space upstairs. »
« Thank you. » she answered, relieved. « I have to admit I was really afraid to go outside. »
« You're welcome. » Then he smiled. « I've caught the beast that nested upstairs, so you won't have to be afraid of that either. » he added in a friendly voice. « It was a marten. I caught it a few hours ago. You can chose yourself whatever room suits you best. »
« With all due respect, my King, I'd rather sleep here, next to the fire, than in a cold dusty room upstairs. » she said shyly. Thorin's bedroom had been cleaned and restored, but the others chambers were still untouched, full of dust and spiders and mouldy carpets.
Thorin shrugged.
« Of course. » he answered, smiling. « Nothing's better than sleeping in the warmth of a crackling fire, when such a storm is raging outside. » He stretched, and got up. « If there is anything else you need, please help yourself. You don't need to ask. » He took a few steps, then he turned to Laurelin one last time. Even if she had acted as if nothing was wrong during the whole evening, he had sensed she was somewhat nervous, but he couldn't quite grasp just how much she was frightened. « Are you are all right ?»
«Yes, my King. » she said bravely, putting a fake smile on her lips.
She didn't want to sound whiny or childish – she was a grown woman, now, after all, and grown women are not supposed to be frightened of a mere thunderstorm. She knew Thorin would not laugh at her, but she was still afraid she would drop in his esteem if he saw how afraid she was. Secretly, she hoped he would stay with her for a while – the company of another human being was what she truly craved for – but she didn't say a word. She just watched Thorin climb the stairs after he bid her good-night. At first she heard his heavy steps upstairs, then there was nothing but the howling wind outside and the rain splattering against the shutters. She shivered, but did her best to keep the fear at bay as she prepared her makeshift bed on the floor. When she was done, she slipped under the blankets and closed her eyes, but every thunderbolt made her startle.
After a while, though, Laurelin heard Thorin's feet over her head once more. She wondered what he was up to, then she realized he was heading towards the stairs ; several seconds later, she heard the steps creak under his weight as he came down again.
« Laurelin, are you sure you are all right ?» he asked, looking her into the eyes. He was still wearing his trousers, but he was barefoot and he already wore his night-shirt. His long black hair was unbraided, hanging down his back and around his face in long dark strands.
Laurelin tried to avoid his gaze, because she knew one look would be enough for him to guess how terrified she was, but then he knelt at her side and put two fingers under her chin, very gently, to make her look up. When their eyes met, she saw nothing but kindness in Thorin's blue eyes. She relaxed slightly.
« It's just wind and rain. » he told her reassuringly. « They may sound frightening, but they can't hurt you here. There's not reason to be afraid.»
He put his hand on her shoulder, and smiled at her.
« Of course. »she said, but at this precise moment a tree was struck by lightning not far away, and she let out a small shout.
Thorin squeezed her shoulder.
« This house has been standing for centuries. » he told her. « Even when it was empty and untended, it endured many storms without falling down. Now that I have strengthened the walls and the roof, nothing will be able to destroy it. Nothing. »
Laurelin nodded.
« Thank you, my King.» she said shyly. « For coming back... It's just... I know I may sound silly, but I don't like thunderstorms, and it's the first time in my life that I am alone during one of them... It's just...»
She sighed, and remembered how her grand-mother used to tell her tales of old, to keep her mind away from what was happening outside.
« You're not alone.» he answered. « Dis was afraid of thunderstorms, too, when she was younger. Then she learned to wield a sword, and from that moment she declared she would never be afraid of anything again. » He smiled fondly as he recalled Dis as a little girl. « Maybe I should teach you how to use a sword, too.» He joked, smiling at Laurelin.
« I'm not a fighter.» she answered. The prospect of killing and spilling blood was horrifying, to her eyes. « I don't think I am brave enough to do such things as your sister does.»
« Going to battle with a blade in your hand is not the only form of courage.» Thorin pointed out. «Waking up every morning and finding the strength to smile when all your beloved ones are dead takes an incredible amount of courage, too.»
By the intense way he was looking at her, she understood he was talking about her. She didn't know what to answer to that, so she said nothing. She just nodded, and looked warily at the shutters. The wind was already starting to lose in intensity, and the downpour of rain had almost stopped ; the only sound that came from outside was the soft spattering of summer rain on the ground, and the barking of a dog somewhere in the village.
« Thank you, my King.» she repeated. « I think I will be all right, now.» He frowned at her. « Truly. The worst is over. I think I will be able to sleep, now.»
This time Thorin nodded, and got up. Laurelin's shoulder felt very cold where the man's hand had been moments earlier.
« Good night,Laurelin. Sleep well.»
« Good night, my King.»
She settled as comfortably as possible between her blankets, and heaved a deep sigh. A few moments later, she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.
While Laurelin was slowly drifting into sleep downstairs, Thorin tossed and turned in his bed. Seeing her so frightened by a thunderstorm had come as a surprise, for him ; he couldn't imagine how somebody like Laurelin, who had suffered so many hardships these last decades, could still be so afraid of a harmless thunderstorm ? But far from making her look ridiculous, Thorin had been pleased to see that the soft side of her had not been completely destroyed by all the difficulties they had faced lately. No matter the grief or the pain, Laurelin was still as gentle-hearted as she had always been. She had toughened up, of course, but without getting mean or bitter or full of resentment, like some of the others Dwarves. It was a great quality, it showed as strong she truly was, and Thorin genuinely admired her for it. Which led him back to the one question that was bothering him : Should he truly ask her to come and live here, with him .
He had no doubts left about Laurelin : he knew she would be perfect to help him with the forge. She had everything he was looking for in his partner. Yet every time he had been about to ask her about it, he had cowered and let her go without talking to her. He didn't even know why he hesitated to much. In truth, there was no reason at all to be so afraid. Yet he kept wondering – what if she feels embarrassed, or offended by my proposal ? What if she refuses ? And what if she accepts ? Will she be able to cope with additonal work, on top of everything else she's already doing ? How will it feel, to have her live in my house ? Will we be able to get along, or will our realtionship turn bitter after barely a few months ? And what will people think about it ? He was not really afraid for himself – he didn't care what people might of might not say about him when he had his back turned – but he didn't want Laurelin to become the target of mean gossip amongst the other Dwarves. Besides, Thorin had never shared his space with anybody else, not even with his little sister Dis. This situation would be completely new to him, and it made him a bit uncomfortable to think about such a closeness.
Then, on the other side, he remembered how sweet and gentle Laurelin was, and he guessed living in the same house as her would be easy enough. She was nothing like Dis – stubborn, strong-willed Dis who always wanted to be the one in charge. Laurelin was discreet and eager to please, and whe would definitely not be intruding.
He sighed, and tried to find a comfortable position in his bed.
He spent the rest of the night torturing himself with an endless flow of questions and interrogations, and when the sun rose in the morning he had taken his decision. He had never been so determined in his life as he was at this precise moment.
It was a beautiful day, with bright sun and blue sky, but the air was pleasantly fresh after last night's thundestorm. He was working on a longsword when Laurelin entered, carrying a flask of cold water. He saw her smile at him, and couldn't help but smile back. She handed him the flask, and he thanked her politely, then the maid asked several questions about the sword he was forging Thorin knew it was not just politeness, but genuine interest in his work, so he answered her questions as thoroughly as possible. He even went as far as describing her the distinction between a longsword – like the one he was working on – and a broadsword, then he took a deep breath and decided to take the bull by the horns, once and for good.
« Laurelin, I am very impressed by everything you have learned so fast. » he started in a very formal voice, to hide his own nervousness. « You are a great help for me already, and you are on the way of becoming truly essential to the smooth running of this forge. »
« Thank you. » she said with a soft smile, but it was obvious she felt proud of herself as she heard her king's praising words. « It is an honor to work with you, my King. »
Thorin smiled at her.
« This is why I want to make you an offer... » he continued. « You will be free to refuse, of course. »
Puzzled, she froze and lifted an eyebrow, curious to hear more.
« An offer, my King ? »
« Since I will have more work soon, I will have more and more need of your presence here. Sometimes we will have to work late, or to start very early in the morning. The most reasonable solution would be for you to come and live here, in the forge. There are many empty rooms upstairs. I am sure one of them would suit you, if you decided to accept my proposition. »
Laurelin was so surprised that, for a long moment, she didn't know what to answer. She stammered a few awkward words, then she paused to regain some composure.
« I would be glad to help you in every possible way. » she said at last, her heart beating fast in her chest.
« Of course, like I said before, you are free to refuse. » Thorin insisted. He didn't want her to feel pressured in saying yes. « Helping me with the forge means additional work, and coming to live here is an important decision too, something you cannot take lightly. There's no obligation at all. If you are not interested, just say no and I will never bother you with this again. You will just keep doing all the things you did so far, and everything will be fine. »
« I am fully aware of the implications of such an offer, and I accept gladly. » she said, feeling a bit flushed. « It will be an honor to help you in your daily work at the forge, and I am very willing to learn even more about this trade. »
Hearing Thorin tell her he was impressed by her knowledge made her feel wonderfully happy, and proud of herself. She had put many efforts into learning everything about weapons, and about how they were crafted. She had greatly enjoyed learning these new things, and she had also enjoyed watching Thorin as he worked in the forge, so engrossed in his work that he forgot about everything else around him. Although she had not learned everything in the sole purpose of pleasing him – she had done it out of genuine interest – it still felt good to know her efforts had paid off. It was the very proof that she could do more with her life than being just a mere serving girl.
« Thank you, Laurelin. » Thorin said with a warm smile. « Really, I am grateful. I know I need to be seconded by someone, but if you had refused I really don't know whom I would have turned to. There's no one here I can trust as much as I can trust you. »
Laurelin didn't know what to answer to this ; she was baffled by so many unexpected compliments and no words came to her mind, but her broad smile was enough to express all her happiness.
« I won't have need of your services during a few hours, so maybe you should go back to your home and gather your things. » he suggested. « If everything goes well, you will be comfortably settled by the time the night falls. »
She nodded and thanked him, then she walked out of the forge, still unable to believe what had just happened. She would come and live at the forge. Never again would she have to sleep in an empty, deserted house, with no more than the memory of her grand-mother to keep her company. She would live and sleep under the same roof as Thorin. His reassuring presence would stand tall and strong between her and the fears that somethimes gripped her heart in the middle of the night, when she was unable to sleep.
When she arrived at the small house where she had lived so far, she contemplated it for a while before entering.
I won't miss it. She realized. Not at all.
A few hours later, Laurelin was standing in her little house for the last time. She contemplated all her possessions, gathered around her she didn't own much, and what little she owned was old, used and cheap. Three threadbare dresses she wore for her daily work, two sets of underwear, several brown pairs of holey socks, as well a brush, a comb and a tiny cracked mirror. Her family's necklace she already wore around her neck, and the herbs she used for cooking as well as for healing minor diseases or small injuries were stacked in a small chest of dark cherry-wood. Her kitchenware was gathered in another chest, a bigger one, made of polished walnut wood, as well as a few blankets, an old wolf skin, and her grand-mother's belongings. It would all fit into one bedroom, so she wouldn't take up much space in Thorin's house. Her kind neighbour helped her to drag the heavy chest out of the house, and to lift it onto the back of Thorin's pony the small but strong beast didn't complain about the heavy weight, and just waited patiently till Laurelin gave him the order to walk. She politely thanked her old neighbor for his kindness, then she softly stroked the pony's forehead ; she took the reins and led him gently through the streets of the village.
When she reached the forge, Thorin welcomed her with a warm and pleasant smile. It was pretty obvious he rejoiced in seeing her move in. He stepped forward to get the chest off the pony, then he carried it upstairs Laurelin thanked him – she had no idea how she would have carried it herself, if he hadn't volunteered to do it in her place – and followed him upstairs. She looked at everything as if it were the first time she entered the house, because everything was different now it would not just be Thorin's house anymore, but also her house. Her home.
« There are half a dozen bedrooms on each side of the corridor. » Thorin informed her. « On the left side, though, the roof was in a bad state before I repaired it, so everything is quite damaged. I'd rather chose one of the bedrooms on the right side, if I were you. »
Laurelin nodded. She opened several doors – except the door to Thorin's bedroom, of course – and in the end she set her heart on the room right next to Thorin's. When she told him which one she had selected, he smiled and nodded approvingly. It was in good condition, more or less Laurelin spotted a few cracks in the wall, and in one corner, water had leaked into the house from the damaged roof. But everything else still looked good enough.
« What will you do with all the other rooms ? » Laurelin asked, as she stood in the corridor with Thorin.
« To be honest, Laurelin, I have no idea so far. » he admitted. « It's too much space for just two people, but well, I don't know yet... Your suggestions will be welcome, if you have some. » Then he announced her he had to go back to work – he wanted to finish the sword before nightfall – so he left Laurelin alone after carrying her chest into her chamber.
Once he was gone, Laurelin started turning the empty room into a home. Her first task was to clean it, of course since there had been more important work to do downstairs, she hadn't bothered cleaning the empty rooms so far. Everything was still dirty and dusty, with spier webs in every corner. She even found bat droppings under one of the beams from the celing, but all the bats were gone now. She swepts and mopped the floor, then she dusted every inch of the bedroom, before airing the old blankets at the window. The bed itself was covered with tiny holes left by the woodborers, but it looked strong enough and it didn't breeak down when Laurelin sat on it. She pulled her pillow out of the chest, then her own blankets, then she hung her dresses into the small wardrobe.
When she was done, she sighed in relief. She was filthy and covered in sweat, but happy to be done with the unpleasant work. She quickly washed her face and her hands, then she braided her hair again and slipped into a clean dress. In spite of her low birth and humble origins, she was very clean and did her best to look decent in every occasion, even when she didn't leave the house. Of course she didn't wear make up or powders on her face, and she wasn't vain at all, but it was important to her to be clean. She was a maid, not a sloven.
She spent the rest of the day as she always did, sharing her time between her chores at Thorin's house, and her daily walk through the meadows to pick up flowers for her grand-mother's tomb. She also took the time to feed Thorin's pony, and to clean his stall ; she was growing more and more fond of the brave little beast, and she always loved to spend a bit of time with him. Late in the afternoon, Thorin even sent her to jeweler's shop, to see if he had a beautiful stone or two that she could buy for Thorin, to set into the hilt of the sword he was about to finish. Laurelin felt honored to chose the stones herself, yet at the same time she was afraid her choice would disappoint him she hesitated between a big blue topaze, and a set of smaller lemon-colored stones. Her eye was also attracted to a shining blood-red ruby, but this one was far too expensive for Thorin's yet half-empty purse. So in the end she chose the tiny yellow stones, and when she was back at the forge Thorin rewarded her with a pleased smile. She watched him as he meticulously set them into the sword's rounded pommel, fascinated by the nimbleness of Thorin's big fingers.
Then evening came, and Laurelin returned into the house to prepare dinner. Night had fallen by the time everything was ready, and a beaming Thorin announced her that the sword was ready to be sold. time everything was ready, and a beaming Thorin announced her that the sword was ready to be sold. He was very proud of his work, and in a very good mood ; he was sure he would get a good price for it, and he complimented Laurelin once more for her wise choice regarding the ornamental stones.
Once Thorin was done eating, he returned to the forge to put away his tools, while Laurelin tidied the kitchen. Then, instead of putting on her shoes and walking home, she just sat in front of the fire with a pile of clothes to mend ; summer was slowly turning to autumn, and some of the nights were starting to be quite fresh, actually. Thorin soon joined her, and they talked animatedly for a while. Laurelin had rarely seen his so enthusiastic and optimistic. Later, when Dwalin and Balin knocked on the door to talk to Thorin, Laurelin quietly gathered her things and climbed the stairs, to retreat in her bedroom. She made herself as discreet as possible. She was, after all, just his maid. She didn't want to intrude on his private life.
Downstairs, as Thorin watched her climb the stairs, he wondered why she suddenly felt the need to run away like that ; Dwalin and Balin had just come to exchange a few words of no importance with Thorin, and the young maid could have stayed where she was, warming her feet in front of the fire. Maybe she's afraid that I would be ashamed of her in front of my friends ? He felt angry with himself for letting her feel such a thing, even unintentionally. In truth, he would have loved for Laurelin to stay, so she could have been at his side when he showed his friends the finished sword – she had, after all, played a part in its making, even if it was just a small part. He would have to make more effots, in the future, to make her feel at ease when he had guests. He didn't want her to flee and hide and feel awkward every time he had visitors.
Once Balin and Dwalin had left, he climbed the stairs at last. Before going to bed, he decided to check on Laurelin one last time. Everything was new for her, after all. He knocked softly at the door, so as not to wake her is she was asleep, but she immediately answered and told him to enter. When he saw her sitting on the bed in her nightclothes, with her hair unbound, he felt a bit embarrassed as he realized she probably wanted nothing but to be alone and quiet, so late at night. He cursed himself for intruding like that into her private life.
« I'm sorry to bother you.» he said apologetically. « I just wanted to make sure you don't need anything. »
Laurelin welcomed him warmly, with a pleasant smile, though. All the awkwardness he had felt moments before disappeared at once. She got up from her bed, and Thorin realized – once more – how pretty she was. She was slender for a Dwarf-woman, with a round face and white skin, and long hair that hung to her hips.
«I am perfectly fine, thank you. » she replied, and she truly meant it. « But I think I need some sleep, now. »
«We all need to rest. » Thorin agreed.
« Good-night, my King. » she said fondly.
«Good night, Laurelin. »
They exchanged one last look, then Thorin left her bedroom to let her sleep.
Laurelin blew her candle, and found a comfortable position under her blankets. She closed her eyes. The place still smelled of dust and mildew, yet Laurelin didn't care, because the bed was comfortable and she already felt at home, here. It was a place to call her own. A place where she could drop her walls and stop being on her guard all the time... A place where she could just let go of her fears and abandon herself to sleep... She sighed, and opened her eyes one last time to stare at the wall separating her room from Thorin's. He was right there, like a protector. Knowing he was sleeping on the other side of the wall made her feel safe, truly safe.
She closed her eyes again and sank into a quiet, dreamless sleep.
What Laurelin didn't know was that on the other side of the wall, Thorin was feeling just as glad as she was here, so close to him. For the first time in years – decades, even – he wasn't alone anymore. He had somebody at his side he could rely on, somebody who truly cared about him. It was a pleasant feeling. There had been nights, during the last weeks, when he had wondered if working as an armorer was truly worth the effort – would it not be better to choose an easier but less satisfactory trade ? But now Laurelin was here, and she made him want to surpass himself. The fact that she counted on him to survive in this world was the best of all the motivations. He would persevere, day after day, to offer her the life she deserved.
I will make it. He promised silently, not only to himself – but also to Laurelin.
One day, we will have a beautiful life, and then this difficult start will be no more than a bad memory, for both of us.