A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

Givashel

Lyla slowly sipped her tea, marveling at the small tendrils of warmth that spread through her body, filling her chest and moving towards her fingers and toes.

She hadn't realized how cold she felt until the warmth from the tea started to spread outward, making her feel a fuzzy contentedness that started to ebb at the darkened fear that held a firm grip her emotions.

Soon her eyes were drooping, the muffled hums of Gandalf's rich voice fading into the background as she slowly sank down among the pillows, marveling at their soft, inviting presence.

She half wondered if they gave her too much draught again like in Rivendell, as she slowly slipped into a peaceful oblivion.

*****

Gandalf watched Lyla's rather rapid descent into slumber with a mixture of amusement and worry. His hums diminished as he noted the heavy shadows under her eyes and her gaunt expression.

She wasn't getting enough sleep. And he supposed, logically, that it was due to nightmares.

It made sense of course. The hobbit had been through quite a lot.

A lot more than he had ever anticipated when he'd recommended the little Shireling for this adventure.

The Grey Wizard sighed and watched the soft rise and fall of blonde lump curled under the blankets, a fond smile on his lips as he recalled another young hobbit lass who ran off on an adventure with the tall Grey-clad Wizard.

Yes, Belladonna Took's daughter was just like her mother.

He could see the bright, cheerful adventurous sparkle in Lyla's eye, even though it had been dimmed by some unfortunate events of late. He also noticed the resolute nature of her decision to go through with the rest of this quest. She was determined to see it through. And while he knew that the Baggins side of her wanted to do this to keep a promise (something Bagginses were notorious for), Gandalf also suspected that her Tookish nature wanted to complete this mission just to know she could be brave and do the right thing, even in the face of insurmountable odds.

But, that wild Tookish streak was tempered with a calm, witty, resourcefulness that the Baggins family inherited in abundance. What Lyla lacked in weapons skills or sheer strength, she certainly made up for in quick thinking. Of course, the Tooks were no slouches when it came to intelligence, but the Baggins family held a certain refined method of planning and logic that Lyla seemed to grasp onto, even when the plans themselves were more Tookish by nature.

Gandalf shook his head in wonder at the small, seemingly ordinary little creature who was anything BUT ordinary.

What a force this little hobbit was.

The smile slipped slowly from Gandalf's face as he peered closer at the sleeping creature. His gaze turned thoughtful, his eyes straining to decipher, his ears listening intently. He could hear a low thrumming coming from the Hobbit's form. Gandalf narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, closer to Lyla. Something was...
Odd

It almost appeared, to the wizard's eyes as if thing black tendrils were slowly circling around Lyla's left hand, thing threads of blackness, slowly inching their way up the hobbit's arm.

But when Gandalf blinked, it was gone.

And then a soft knock sounded at the door.

Gandalf quickly catalogued the information away.

He'd think on these things when more pressing matters were taken care of.

He turned to see Ori, Bifur and Bofur standing quietly in the doorway, their questioning, worried gazes, giving Gandalf a pleasant reminder that the hobbit was well cared for.