Bearing the mark of a legendary assassin, onward with a journey to the Lonely Mountain. Ravena, the White Sorceress. Arising fore, a lineage of greatness. By the Dúnedain and Maiar's fruition, and of the Sons of Durin's salvation. Upon the Grace of...
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✧ Baggins of Bag End ✦
True to her word, she finally reached the end of Hobbiton. Aware of the ponies parading outside a specific Hobbit-hole, she assumed she reached her destination. Anya unmounted her stallion the moment a glowing rune mark by the round green door on a certain Hobbit-hole caught her eyes and knocked thrice. It was later opened by Bilbo.
"Good evening." She greeted, inclining her head. "Ravena, at your service and your family's."
All the former displeasure piled up from the Dwarves' impetuous manners vanished as soon as she removed her hood and her face drape. Bilbo raised his head to her eye line, his mouth ajar. First he noticed was her eyes. The way it looked back at him reminded Bilbo of aquamarine gems. He thought it might hold wonders. Her voice - sonorous, yet so gentle. There was nothing he could possibly think of to describe her beauty. It was ethereal and breathtaking.
If he hadn't stared enough, he might assume Anya was an Elf, if not for her human ears that gave it away. Still and all, everything about her screamed Elven. Given the impression that Bilbo had long lost his manners, Anya cleared her throat to shake him up from his reverie.
"Oh - uh, good heavens! My deepest apologies." His eyes immediately blinked at that, mentally cursing himself. "Bilbo Baggins, my lady. At yours."
"You must be the Hobbit Mithrandir talked about. Is he here?"
His face contorted. Nobody mentioned waiting for another person in his abode, apart from her. "Mith-who?"
Anya needed to remind herself; not all common people share the same familiarity with his Sindarin name. "Gandalf."
"Oh, yes, they are all here, in fact."
"Splendid. May I come in?"
"Of course, of course." He welcomed her with an affiliative smile. "Please, make yourself at home."
Bilbo didn't know why, but somehow, he felt a tad nervous around Anya. For a moment, he thought her eyes glowed under her hood and it almost looked cold, like steel. Anya removed her cloak and hung it by the pegs on the wall. What she wore brought attention to him. It was rather revealing by the thighs and arms, he had to turn the other way out of respect.
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