She dreams of Golden Hope

my fingers laced to crown

Her spine straightened as suddenly, Thorin entered the periphery and joined the company of his nephews. She fixed her blue eyes on him as she watched the king in exile's arrival and his stance beside his eldest nephew watching their mentor-ship with silent authority radiating off him. She furrowed her brow as she vaguely perceived Fili's reaction to his uncle's arrival. She was confused, because she had always taken note of Fili's respect, reverence, toward his uncle. She knew that Thorin was an idol to the younger dwarf. So it confused her that Fili's features twisted into a look of dissatisfaction and resentment. Yet it was fleeting and she rationalized that she must have only imagined it, perhaps projected her own feelings on Fili.

She watched Thorin Oakenshield as he proceeded to augment his nephews' teaching with his experience. She knew that her words to him had been cruel and previously she would have despised herself for her bitterness. She tried to comfort herself with thinking that she would have been unable to say such horrid things previously, but then she recalled the instances where Thorin had drove her mad with anger and... longing, that she had lost her head with him. But he had tried to apologize and even though she doubted the honesty in his plea, she had to recognize that he had gotten over his stupid pride and apologized to her. And she had been unnecessarily cruel, trying, wanting to hate him.

Eyes, icy like the storm, met hers. For a few moments, Laurel was unable to wrench her eyes away, was loath to look away. She looked at him as he responded her gaze, trying to figure out what he felt, whether he was angry at her. She hadn't' talked to him since their confrontation in the garden. She had avoided him with a determination that even startled her. But now, she was here and he was looking at her and she did not wish to break their connection despite her acrimony and anger towards him. But then she felt, Gandalf's inquisitive gaze on her and unwilling to be vulnerable, she looked down just as she saw Thorin's her gaze soften as she responded to him.

She heard a deep, resonant chuckle beside her and felt annoyance rising within her in response to Gandalf's amusement. She heard him mutter something unintelligible and she could barely make out the word 'stubborn'. She shook her head, unwilling to ponder the wizard's meaning and just as she was about to turn on her heel and firm with the intent to depart, she heard him state: "Beorn told me that you are quite intent on continuing on the quest." She looked towards the wizard, who had seemed to grasp her intention of leaving and responded with nod confirming Beorn's allegations. She once more settled herself on the porch, seeing no escape from this conversation with Gandalf until the wizard had achieved his aim.

"You still wish to go after..." she interrupted his speech with a sharp look to him, that warned him not to continue his sentence. Seeing her fierce acrimony, the wizard raised his brow in something akin to surprise, yet he heeded her wishes and did not mention her captivity. Laurel looked away from her travelling companion and once more silence settled over them.

"Why?" Gandalf asked eventually, breaking the tension between them. He did not need to specify his question, she had understood what he meant. She knew what he meant. Her lips twisted into a mocking smirk and she answered with looking up from the palm of her hands: "You know why." In response, the wizard exhaled heavily beside her and her suspicions concerning Gandalf's knowledge of her situation was confirmed. Perhaps she should have felt relief that she did not have to carry the burden of her feelings separately, but it caused faint alarm as she wondered about the obviousness of her feelings. Her feelings which would cause a reaction among the rest of the company were they to ever discover them, that she knew would be anything but amiable and understanding. Despite her reconciliation with the dwarven company, she was still an elf and had not forgotten their animosity towards her heritage. She could still faintly detect certain degrees of dissatisfaction concerning her parentage. What would the dwarves think of an elf having feelings for their king?