Elf of Fire and Light: Book 2: Water

Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Miranda's POV

Golden light shown through the window onto my face. I squinted my eyes open and sat up from the couch. I pulled the blanket off and folded it neatly. I looked back at the window. Light. It shown so brightly that it could not be obstructed by any cloud. I wanted to see it.

I went outside and let the chilly morning air brush past me, the cold tickled my nose, but the heat of the rising sun warmed me. The sky was awash with golds, oranges, and violets. It had felt so long since I had seen such a thing. I stood there, still, watching it until the gold light of morning faded to blue and the wind picked up, pulling with it, icy winds.

"It must have been cold out there," Bilbo stated mildly, gesturing to my reddened nose and ears.

"I suppose so," I replied, rubbing my cold hands together.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "Breakfast is ready. Some nice porridge ought to warm you up." Bilbo offered me a grain filled bowl. It had crushed pieces of bacon and green onions on top.

I smiled, graciously accepting the warm wooden bowl.

"For second breakfast we will have some eggs, sausage and cheese, then third breakfast will be biscuits and tea unless there is something you would prefer?" Bilbo rambled.

"Whatever you have planned will surely be acceptable," I replied, inclining my head in thanks.

We sat in silence as we ate. Birds twittered outside as The Shire's inhabitance awoke. Clanking and chattering could be heard through the window. Children laughed and their mothers warned to return soon.

I heard Bilbo sigh as he placed his empty bowl on the table in front of him and looked forlornly at the door. "Sometimes I still expect them to come aknocking. Here to enter my house unannounced and eat all my food, only to offer me a job I cannot refuse. You know?"

I followed his gaze and nodded, "I know what you mean. I find myself imagining I can see them coming through the trees. I see him leading them."

"Thorin," Bilbo said his name and I only nodded.

The rest of the breakfasts were silent, each of us lost in our own worlds, ones where Thorin didn't die.

My eyes trailed to the sapling growing strong in the light cast through the window. "Did you know that there is an old custom among the Elves to plant a tree before a battle?" Bilbo glanced at me but made no reply. "I like to think that this sapling carries some of Thorin's spirit."

"Strength," Bilbo choked.

"Bravery," I whispered.

"Loyalty," Bilbo said trying to clear his throat.

"Stubbornness," I chuckled dryly.

"Pride," He said smiling slightly.

We continued to list traits that Thorin had, paying no heed as to if a tree could carry such characteristics.