A/N: Hello all! I just want to say thank you for the comments you've been leaving and the faves/follows that this has been getting! I also want to give a heads up that I have an instagram account where you can find random doodles and illustrations from both this story and 'Her Dreams Became Nightmares' as well as various other fandoms. My username is art . by . moosie (remove the spaces) if you're interested :)
It was barely sunrise when Ori woke. Sitting up in his bed, he peered through the darkness, able to see the outlines of his brothers as they slept. Unlike them, he had had trouble sleeping; they would be leaving Dale the next day to go back to Erebor, but he did not want to go. Not yet. Not when he had only seen a small portion of the market and parts of the Full Tankard. There was still so much left to see, so much left to do…
Slipping out of bed, he did his best to be quiet while getting dressed. Not that he needed to be quiet: When his brothers were in a safe environment, they slept quite heavily. It was as he was scrubbing his face and beard in the water basin, however, that Nori let out a particularly loud snore, startling him and making him knock over the pitcher of water. His eyes widening, he lunged forward, catching it just before it could hit the floor. Panicked, he looked over and watched as Nori rolled over, pulling the covers closer to his head. Dori, too, was still asleep.
He put the pitcher back on the table, thankful it had been mostly empty, before moving to pull on his boots. After those, he fastened his belt around his waist and crept out of the room. Across the hall, he could hear Bifur's snoring and he chuckled; Bofur was probably having a hard time sleeping with that kind of noise. Making his way down the stairs, he sniffed the air, smelling burning wood and bread.
Much to Ori's surprise, Bofur was already sitting in the common room, a large mug of tea in his hand and his feet propped up on the hearth. His hat was sitting on the table behind him. He turned as the last two steps creaked under Ori's weight, a smile coming to his lips as he saw the younger dwarf.
"Wouldn't have expected you t' be up yet, lad," he said.
"I wasn't expecting you to be up, either," he admitted. Bofur motioned for him to come sit and he moved to do such. "Was it Bifur's snoring?"
Bofur grinned behind his mug as he took a drink of tea. "You could hear it, could you?" Ori nodded. "No, it wasn't his snorin'; though that's what kept me from goin' back to sleep. I had just gone t' bed so early last night, I guess it was time for me t' wake up."
Nodding in understanding, Ori shifted slightly. He hadn't ever really talked to Bofur without his brothers around—he knew he was a nice dwarf, it was just….his brothers normally did all the talking for him. As he stared into the fire, he wondered if any of the staff was up yet, only to remember that Bofur was drinking tea, which either meant they were or he had broken into the kitchen.
He wouldn't put it past Bofur to do the latter.
"What about you, lad?"
"Hm?" Ori looked up, a slightly startled look on his face as he was pulled from his thoughts.
"Why are you up so early?" Another drink of tea. It wasn't a drink he normally partook in, but it was good first thing in the morning. Especially when he knew he had another long day of labor ahead of him.
"Oh…" Ori turned back towards the fire. "Well…I was hopin' to get some breakfast and then go explore the city without my brothers."
Bofur tilted his head, curiosity on his face. "Why's that?"
Ori shifted again. "Well…All this week, I've been havin' to follow them around and take their notes for them. Aside from stopping by to see your shop yesterday, we've visited the same three buildings and the market—nowhere else. It's quite boring, really."
He nodded. "Sounds like it. I was never really fond of all that tradin' business." Leaning back in the chair, he tilted his head back and felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders stretch a bit. "Too much stuff t' keep track of." He, Bifur, and Will had spent a good portion of the previous day pulling up any and all rotten or broken wood they could find. While it hadn't been as much as originally thought, it was still a fair amount. Especially considering that they had also knocked down the balcony's roof.
"That's why I want t' get out of here before they wake up," Ori sighed. "I'm not really interested in all that stuff. I mean, mum and dad had always tried to get me interested in it—you know, to keep up with the family business—but it was always Dori who was good at it. I'm just good at taking the notes…"
"Not everyone is made t' take up the family trade," Bofur said with a chuckle. "Mahal help me, I thought I was going to be a miner like my own dad, but then Bifur showed me how to carve wood and I realized toymakin' was my calling." He then pointed at the larger of the two books hanging from Ori's belt. "I take it you plan on spendin' the day filling up a few more pages in that?" he then asked, grinning slightly. He watched Ori's cheeks turn a light shade of pink.
"Maybe," he replied shyly, glancing away. His hands unconsciously held onto the book, thumbs running over the parchment pages. "It's fun drawin' things that aren't made by dwarrows. They've got so many different shapes to them. Kind of like drawin' people."
He quietly laughed before taking another drink of tea. "Anythin' else you'll do besides sit 'n draw?"
"Just explore," he replied, starting to lightly kick his feet. "Dale's interestin', especially with its layers."
"Hm? What d'ya mean by 'layers'?" He looked at him curiously, a brow raised.
Ori continued to stare at the fire. "Well, you've got the first layer o' Dale—that's the layer of when it was first built. You see it mostly in the first floors of the buildings, especially the unrestored ones: The cream-colored walls, the faded paints of the window boxes, the red tiles…Then you've got the second layer. That's the layer that Smaug made when he terrorized the place. Half-destroyed buildings. Ruined pathways. Burnt things. Then there's the last layer, which is everythin' that's been rebuilt."
"Like our shop," Bofur stated before he could stop himself. "Or the Full Tankard."
"Or the market," Ori nodded. "Lots o' parts of the city are still in ruins because of how many lives were lost durin' the War. Not enough people t' fill them, even with folk from other parts coming to live here."
Bofur looked over at him, studying his face. The lad still stared at the fire, but his head was tilted and he had a sort of dazed look about him. He knew the look. The same look would often come to Bifur's face when he was making toys; it also used to come to Thorin's face when he had been imagining their victory in reclaiming Erebor for the dwarves. Lightly shaking his head, he smiled fondly at Ori.
"You really enjoy bein' around this different place, don't you?" he asked after a moment.
As if realizing that he had been daydreaming, Ori looked down at his feet, his cheeks pink once again. "It's interestin' is all. I mean, we're dwarrows. We grew up with other dwarrows and we learned dwarrow culture. Learnin' about how other races live is jus'…interesting," he muttered.
"I don't blame you. The other races are vastly different from us, which is why they're so interestin'," he yawned. He made to take another drink of his tea only to find it gone. Grunting, he sat up and rubbed his lower back. "You hungry, lad?"
"A little bit…" he admitted.
Bofur stood and motioned for him to follow. The two dwarves walked across the empty common room, making for the kitchen door. Pushing it open, Bofur stuck his head and looked around, Ori soon shoving his head in beneath his arm. There were all sorts of shelves and counters in the kitchen, the former being filled to the brim with various sorts of food. Copper pots and iron pans hung from hooks in the ceiling while the larger, more-used pans hung above the hearth. In the center of the kitchen was a long, heavy table. It was at this table Baylee stood, kneading some sort of dough.
"Miss Baylee?" Bofur called. She looked up, some hair falling into her face. "Is it alright if I make myself more tea?"
"Feel free," she smiled. Bofur walked into the kitchen, Ori shyly trailing along behind him. "G'morning, Master Ori! Would you like anythin'?" She paused her kneading and flattened the dough out before spooning some dried fruit into it. Ori walked over and she glanced at him, watching as he stood on tiptoe to peek over the jars and bowls in front of her work area.
"What are you makin'?" His head was tilted curiously as he watched her start to knead again.
"Fruit bread," she replied. She plucked up the spoon again and pressed it against the fruit in the bowl. Warm mead filled the spoon and she sprinkled it over the dough as her other hand continued to work. "It's the specialty here, though I haven't been able t' make it for some time due t' being out o' the right dried fruits."
"It smells good," he told her, "though that could just be the mead." He smiled shyly as he glanced up at her.
She let out a small laugh. "Aye, it does smell good, doesn't it?"
Bofur grabbed a cloth and used it to lift the kettle from the coals. "This whole room smells delicious," he remarked. "If my brother, Bombur, were here, we'd have t' tie him up with chains t' keep him from eatin' everything in here." He poured the hot water over a tea strainer that he had filled with tea leaves. When his mug was full, he left the strainer in so it could steep.
"Bombur's always hungry," Ori explained to Baylee.
"He's also about the size o' the three of us put together," Bofur chuckled. "Widthwise, that is."
Plucking up the dough, she moved to set it in a ceramic loaf pan that she had buttered. "He sounds like a fellow who certainly appreciates his food," she joked. Wiping her hands on her apron, she stepped off to the side of a large, metal door. "Lads may want t' back up a few paces; this oven's almost as hot as a blacksmith's forge," she gently warned. As they did so, she threw open the door and quickly stepped back just before a wave of heat came billowing out. The two dwarves watched as, for just a moment, the hot air made the area in front of the oven dance about.
"Huh. Not many human homes near the Blue Mountains had ovens," Bofur commented.
"Not many here do, either," she answered, putting in two pans of bread. She had six more to put in, so she quickly grabbed two more. "Onl' us inn owners, the bakery, an' the king have them."
"Why the king?" Ori asked. "Does he do a lot of baking?"
Bofur stifled a laugh. "Because he has the money for it," he answered, patting Ori on the shoulder.
"Oh…Well, I'd imagine he does at least some baking of his own. I mean, the oven would go to waste then."
Baylee giggled as she put in the last two pans of bread. "No, Master Ori, he has a cook who does that for him—She's actually the sister o' our cook here! I daresay our Galiene's a touch better, though." She closed the oven up, flinching as a part of her arm brushed against the hot metal. 'First burn of the day,' she thought. 'Hope it's the only one…' Turning, she looked over at the two dwarves who were watching her with interest; it was the first time it really registered to her that she was nearly the same height as them. "So, you lads are hungry an' I'm free t' cook. What would ya like me t' make?"
With large grins, the two dwarves began listing off the components they wanted in their meals. They were talking quite fast, making it sound as if they weren't even pausing for breath. The trouble for Baylee, though, was that they were both speaking at the same time, making it more than a little difficult to decipher what they were saying besides the occasional 'Ooh, I'll have one o' that, too!'
Chuckling, she suddenly held out her hands, bringing an end to their rambling. "Calm down, lads, calm down," she laughed. "I can barely hear a word either o' you are sayin'. Now, Bofur, you first." Pulling over a stool, she sat down and crossed her arms on her knees, listening.
"I'll have three fried eggs, some bacon, some potatoes, maybe a couple o' biscuits…" he scratched his chin thoughtfully, "and to top it all off, how about a seed cake?"
She nodded slowly, committing the order to memory before looking at Ori. "And you, Ori?"
"A bowl o' porridge, two fried eggs, four sausages, and I'll have a seed cake as well, please," he replied with a shy smile.
Baylee nodded again and stood up, brushing her apron off. "Alright, though I warn ya—it may take me a bit o' time. Galiene normally doesn't get in until the sun's nice 'n fully risen an' the same goes for my auntie, so it'll be just me doin' the cooking…"
Bofur suddenly grinned; she had no idea whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. "Oh? Well, in that case, we'll help you!" he chirped, clapping his hands together.
She blinked, her brow rising somewhat. "Y-you don't have to," she chuckled. "I mean, the two o' you are guests here an' it's my job t' cook an' to serve—"
"Nonsense!" He had already set his tea down and Ori was making for the pans above the fireplace. "You're the only one up and we want a lot o' food; it's the least we could do." He headed over to the pantry door and opened it. He was met by rows of shelves filled with cured, smoked, and salted meats as well as other such items that were needed in a kitchen. It was thrice as much food as his pantry back home could fill and he was certain not even the pantry in Thorin's kitchen held this much. "Oh…I think I just found the motherlode." A silly grin had come to his face.
"Don't stay in there too long!" Ori called, grabbing a coal scraper and using it to bring some more red-hot coals under an iron grate. He set a frying pan atop the grate, letting it heat up. "You'll end up like Bombur!"
Baylee heard a laugh from the depths of the pantry and Bofur soon emerged, his arms laden with bacon, ham, potatoes, and ropes of sausage. "No need t' worry lad—I know how t' treat a pantry!" he said as he came out and carried his bounty over to the counter.
"Careful you don't drop the potatoes!" Baylee gently warned. She moved to get a knife so she could start peeling said potatoes, but before she had the chance to go very far, Ori hurried past her, excusing himself. "Do you need me to grab you a pot for the porridge?" she asked, now able to open the drawer and pull out a small knife.
"Don't worry, Miss Baylee," Ori smiled. "We've got it."
Bofur crouched down, his hands clasped in front of him with his palms facing upwards. With surprising nimbleness for a dwarf, Ori hopped up. As his foot landed in Bofur's palms, the older dwarf gave him a toss into the air. Upon reaching the apex of his ascent, Ori smacked the bottom of the largest pot, which sent it flying off its hook. Bofur caught him before he could hit the ground, setting him down in time for the pot to land neatly in Ori's arms.
"Huh…an' here, I always thought da' and Lovisa were lying about the way dwarves behaved in the kitchen," Baylee chuckled. As Ori hurried back across the kitchen, she plucked up a bucket and sat down, intent on peeling the potatoes.
"Knives in this drawer?" Bofur asked, pointing at the drawer she had just opened. "And who's Lovisa?"
"Aye," she said, starting to peel the potatoes. "Lovisa is mine an' Will's adopted aunt—she was our nursemaid when we were just wee things." She glanced up in time to see him grab their largest knife –a meat cleaver. "O-oh, that may be a bit too big, Bofur."
He shook his head, still wearing a grin. "It's just the right size." He separated four links of sausages from the chain and, with surprising swiftness, started to cut them into small rounds. "Ori!"
The younger dwarf quickly used the end of his tunic to grab the handle of the frying pan. He turned around just in time to catch all but two of the sausage rounds; they sizzled loudly as they hit the hot metal. The other two pieces landed on the floor at his feet and, after returning the pan to the grate, he picked them up. Seeing that they had only the tiniest bit of dirt on them, he blew the specks off and added them in with the rest; he would have never done such if he was making food for anyone else, but he and Bofur had eaten worse in the past. Grabbing a second pan, he set it over the grate to heat up as well as well.
Bofur glanced over at Baylee, seeing her peeling the potatoes. "So how do your father an' your nursemaid know how we dwarrows behave in the kitchen, hm?" he asked, a bit of playfulness to his voice.
For some reason, she felt a bit of color come to her cheeks. "Well, before da' was an innkeeper, he was a blacksmith. He had been apprenticed t' the last full-blooded dwarf in Laketown—"
"Full-blooded? You mean there was a half dwarf?" Ori questioned, his eyes wide.
"Aye, an' she just so happened t' be Lovisa," she chuckled. "She was the smith's daughter. Because o' them, da' learned a lot about dwarvish culture. An' it's because o' Lovisa that my family knows Iglishmêk."
"Oh dear—looks like we're goin' to have t' hold our fingers so you won't catch us signing bad words," Bofur laughed. He sliced himself up some bacon, making the slices a bit thicker than normal. "Ori, bacon!" He slid the slices of bacon onto the flat of the cleaver before flinging them across the room.
"I need a spatula, too!" Ori held up the second pan, catching the wad of bacon. Setting it back down, he used his fingers to separate out the pieces.
Bofur stood on his tiptoes, reaching over and sorting through various utensils that were in a jar. "Wood work?"
"Yes."
"Catch!" He tossed over a wooden spatula and Ori caught it, stirring the meats. "Any particular reason why she taught ya Iglishmêk, lass? I can understand your dad learning, since he worked in a forge, but the rest o' you…"
"See, there ya go with tossing things again!" she giggled. "And aye, we learned because Lovisa's a mute. Though, it's been quite helpful over the years when Will an' me are tryin' to be sneaky." Still giggling, she stood up and set the bowl of peeled potatoes on the counter.
He beamed up at her. "A lot faster than walkin' it over to him, isn't it?" he joked. He watched as a bit of color came to her cheeks when she smiled back; probably from the heat of the kitchen, he supposed. It was getting rather warm, after all. "I'll cut up the potatoes. Why don't you start on the porridge?" Before she could refuse his offer, he took the potatoes from her and shooed her away from that part of the counter. "Hard t' believe you an' your brother ever used a silent language t' be sneaky, though," he joked.
"No offense t' your brother of course, but I just can't see him being the sneaky sort," Ori admitted. "He's just…so big."
"Despite his size, he can be extremely quiet if the need arises," Baylee chuckled.
As if on cue, Will stepped into the kitchen, yawning. He blinked, having to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things; he wasn't. Baylee turned and, spotting him, gave him a small wave.
"Morning, Will," she chirped. "You hungry?"
He watched as Ori slid some pieces of crispy sausage onto a plate before pouring the cubes of potato into the same pan. "Er…Yes, I am," he said. "Baylee, quick question."
"The lads are in the kitchen because they're helpin' me cook," she answered, as if reading his mind. "Let me guess, you want yourself a nice big bowl o' porridge with three fried eggs on top?"
Will frowned, feeling his cheeks grow a bit red. "How did you know?"
"One, you're my brother an', after thirty years, I'd hope I knew what ya liked to eat in the morning. Two, you're starin' at the eggs Ori's fryin' up."
Ori glanced up, his cheeks red from the heat of the fire. He gave Will a shy wave before moving to carefully put the finished eggs on a different plate.
"Have you even eaten?" Will asked, sniffing the air. Wandering over to the oven, he lifted the latch and took a quick peek inside. "These are almost done, 'Lee."
She sprinted over, shoving a wooden spoon in his hand before pushing him towards the porridge. Opening the oven door, she ducked as a wave of heat came out. Shaking his head, Will went to the stove so he could stir the porridge.
"That'll be a no then," he murmured. After stirring, he lifted the spoon and swiped his finger along its back. He frowned ever so slightly; it seemed to be missing something, but he wasn't sure what. Looking down at Ori, he smiled tiredly. "So, what brings you two lil' masters into our humble kitchen this early in the morning?"
"Well," began Ori, "we like a lot o' food with our breakfast and since Miss Baylee is only one person, we decided to help her out." He cracked a few extra eggs into the pan as Bofur came over. "That one there," he quietly told him, pointing at the empty pan.
"How much bacon do you think she likes?" he asked, his voice also quiet.
Ori glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. "Hmm…Five? She's always runnin' around this place; she could use the extra food."
Bofur nodded in agreement, laying the slices of bacon in the bottom of the pan. "Egg's ready to flip," he murmured, pointing.
"Oh, thank you." He moved to flip the eggs, being careful to not break the yolk.
Will raised his brow as he watched the two. Thanks to all the racket of pots and pans shuffling about and the scraping of the wooden peel against the floor of the oven, he couldn't hear what they were saying—but he knew they were up to something. Just what, though, he couldn't tell.
Through all noise, the sound of a key in a lock went unheard. When the back door opened, and in stepped Galiene and Gawen, everyone was more than a little surprised—including the pair walking in.
"What's all this goin' on in my kitchen?" Galiene demanded, hands moving to her hips. She wasn't angered by the sight, but she was rather startled that there were guests standing at her stove.
Almost instantly, Will pointed an accusing finger at Baylee, earning an 'Oi!' in protest. "All her! Not me! I'm just stirrin' the porridge!"
Baylee rolled her eyes, a small pout on her lips. "We're not ten anymore, fish brains." She then smiled apologetically at the cook as she pulled the last two loaves of bread out of the oven. "I got some help makin' some breakfast is all. Don't worry; we're almost done."
"Actually, we are done," Ori chirped.
Turning around, she saw the two dwarves setting their food onto trays. Much to her shock, they had even cleaned up their work area. Galiene, too, seemed impressed that none of the cooking implements had been damaged.
"And we also made up plates for you an' Will," Bofur said, carrying a plate of eggs, bacon, and seed cake over to her. "Don't want you two goin' hungry, after all. Especially if he's—" he pointed his thumb at William who was receiving a plate of three fried eggs to go with his eventual bowl of porridge, "—goin' to be helping me an' Bifur all day again."
Once more, Baylee's cheeks darkened as she took the plate from him. "Th-thank you," she smiled. She hadn't even seen the two of them cook up the extra food.
"You're welcome, Miss Baylee," he said with a grin before following Ori out of the kitchen, making sure to grab his tea.
It was past midday when Ori finally set down his pencil and leaned back against the wall. He let out a small curse of pain as he rubbed the back of his neck; he wasn't quite sure how long he had spent hunched over, but he did know that he had a drawing taking up two pages in his sketchbook now. Smiling, he held up his sketchbook so he could compare his drawing to the scene before him.
His subject had been the carousal and surrounding shops located near the market. He remembered seeing it laying in a twisted knot of bronze and wood when he had passed through with the rest of Thorin's company eight years ago; he shuddered at the unpleasant memory. But now, to see it restored and providing joy for children once more had warmed his heart and provided an excellent centerpiece to his illustration.
"Makes me wish I had some colors with me," he murmured. "This would be good practice for them." Though his sketches and drawings had improved greatly over the years, he still found it overwhelming to add color to them at times.
Closing his sketchbook, he leaned back against the wall for a few moments. It was nice, to see Dale with so much color and life, though he had to admit, exploring the parts that were still in ruin had been a bit fun. He had spent most of the morning filling six pages that were dedicated to sketches of buildings, walls, and gardens that had yet to be repaired.
In some cases, he had even managed to find the long-decayed remains of orcs from the Battle of Five Armies.
'I wonder how upset Dori and Nori are going to be with me?' he thought. 'Well…I doubt Nori will be too upset—he's always telling Dori to let me go off on my own like this. But Dori…he's definitely going to be three shades of upset.' Closing his eyes, he let out a small, content sigh. 'I do really like it here in Dale, though…As much as I love Erebor, it's all familiar to me. Everything's angular green marble; but here, it's all sorts of different colors and shapes. The people are all sorts of different colors and shapes, too.'
Another sigh left his mouth. 'I wonder if I'd be able to convince them to let me stay here an extra couple of weeks on my own…? I doubt it, but it'd be worth a shot. It's not like I'd be alone, either—Bofur and Bifur are here. Not that they'd need to keep an eye on me, of course. I know how to take care of myself and they've got their shop to work on.'
He opened his eyes again and looked down at his stomach as it grumbled with hunger. "Time to find some food, I guess," he murmured with a chuckle.
Packing up his things, he stood up and started to make his way towards the market. The closer he got, the more he was able to smell the cooked foods being sold by vendors. Whenever he and his brothers had passed through during the week, there had been one particular vendor he wanted to visit, but Dori had made them go elsewhere.
"Two chicken pasties and one fruit pasty, please," he said, approaching the older woman. As he spoke, he pulled out some coins to pay her with.
"Careful with these, dearie," the woman gently cautioned, "they all came out o' the oven not too long ago, so they'll be as hot as fire." She wrapped each pie up in a bit of paper before handing them to Ori, who tucked them away in his pocket.
"Thank you very much," he smiled, handing over the coins. "Have a good day."
"You, too, dearie!" The corners of her eyes crinkled up as she smiled at him.
Smiling as well, he turned and headed for the fountain in the very middle of the market square. It was octagonal in its shape and had quite a bit of dwarvish influence to its design. It wouldn't have been anything terribly special to look at (in Ori's opinion, at least) except that it, like many parts of Dale, was painted in bright blues and yellows.
'Dwalin would probably think it's garish,' he thought to himself. Pulling out one of the pies—he couldn't remember if it was a chicken or the fruit one—he took a bite from it. As the woman had said, it was hot, but it wasn't too hot for him to handle. 'He's never been too fond of yellow. Then again, that's mostly because he says it's one of the harder pigments to use when tattooing…'
A small sigh left his mouth as he took another bite. Looking around, he searched for any potential points of interest that he might be able to draw later. 'It's been nearly two months since I've last seen him…I hope he's doing alright. I know Thorin's kept him busy with the reorganization of the army and the arrangement of security for Kili's upcoming wedding. I do miss him, though.'
Scanning the rooftops of the city, he spotted a tower in the distance; as he squinted somewhat, he could see that it was one of the ancient bell towers. From where he sat, it looked to be in nearly perfect condition—or, rather, perfectly restored condition.
'I wonder if I could draw something from up there?' Taking yet another bite of pie, he shifted slightly, turning so that he could look at the areas behind him. There was another bell tower in the distance, but unlike the first, it was in the middle of being restored to its former glory. 'Definitely won't be drawing from that one.'
As his eyes moved further up the city, he could see the massive great hall where he knew King Bard lived. 'To do a drawing from all the way up there would be interesting. Doubt I could get close to it, though. He probably has guards stationed all over the place.'
When he finished the first pasty, he got up and started to walk in the direction of the first bell tower. As he walked, he pulled out a second pie, which turned out to be the fruit one. Occasionally, he would glance up to make sure he was still going in the correct direction and, to his surprise, the path led him past Bofur and Bifur's shop.
Pausing in his steps, he thought about going in to see how things were coming. Out of nowhere, though, he heard a shout from the roof. Looking up, he was just in time to see Will and Bofur heaving the rotting roof off of the balcony with what appeared to be Bofur's mattock and some sort of war hammer. It disappeared over the side of the building and, a few seconds later, there was a loud crash as it hit the ground behind the shop. The dwarf and human let out victorious cries.
"I think I'll leave them be for now," he chuckled, shaking his head.
It didn't take him much longer to reach the tower—only about ten minutes. He spent another ten minutes climbing the winding stairs up to the top. By the time he reached the landing, he was quietly panting and a fine sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow. He was used to climbing stairs, but these ones were steeper than what he was used to.
Walking to the railing, he leaned against it as he tried to catch his breath—but it was in vain, as the sight before him took his breath away.
From where he stood, he could see the entire city and the lands surrounding it. The clouds above had parted, bathing everything in the warm, yellow-gold sunlight of early spring. Below him, a good portion of Dale looked as if it were a field of poppies thanks to the red clay of the rooftiles. Patches of blue and yellow could be seen from the painted facades of buildings and, on the far side of the market, he could just barely make out cloth awnings in all sorts of colors and designs.
Turning his gaze towards the mountain, he felt his lips curl into a bit of a smile as he saw the hard-won gates of Erebor. They stood tall and mighty, having taken centuries to carve. After the havoc Smaug had wrecked inside, along with the bit of destruction created by him and other members of Thorin's Company, the gates had been repaired. They had also been cleansed of the filth brought by the dragon and the welcoming fires of Erebor burned brightly once more. Dwarves had returned to their ancestral homes and, despite having grown used to all the green marble and angular designs, Ori couldn't help but admit that it was still a beautiful sight to behold.
He pulled out his sketchbook and his pencils, opened up to the next set of blank pages, and began to draw.