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piosenniel · 01-15-2004, 04:09 PM

Orual's post

"Foolishness and adolescent posturing, that's what this is," Óin grumbled, shoving a faded and stained shirt into his pack. His brother, Glóin, looked on as he did so, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"If it's so foolish, then why are you packing already? Has Balin even approached you about going with him?" Glóin asked, stepping up to his brother.

Óin looked up indignantly. "It's assumed, isn't it?" he said. "Balin knows I'll have to go with him to make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself, at least more than he already has. No invitation is necessary, and I'm surprised that you even ask." He went back to packing. "You can't possibly imagine that I'd let Balin tromp off to Moria alone like some addle-brained Man off to seek glory and death, can you? War and danger we've already seen together. I'd be the fool if I didn't follow him."

Glóin did not reply, and Óin continued packing. Finally he brought out his old cloak, the very same brown cloak that he had worn to old Bilbo Baggins' house that first day. His fingers ran over the worn wool, feeling the patches and the tears he hadn't bothered to fix, and images flashed through his head of all the events that had caused the rents and stains and general raggedness of the cloak. A nostalgic smile slid unbidden onto his face, and he folded it gently, but did not pack it. He would need it.

He turned to his brother. "Besides, it's about time I go on another adventure. Makes a dwarf get soft, sitting around in safety all the time." Glóin smiled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. Óin shrugged away irritably.

"Not to say that I think it's a good idea, mind you. I'm just going along for Balin's sake."

01-15-2004, 04:09 PM	#6
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Orual's post "Foolishness and adolescent posturing, that's what this is," Óin grumbled, shoving a faded and stained shirt into his pack. His brother, Glóin, looked on as he did so, a small smile tugging at his lips. "If it's so foolish, then why are you packing already? Has Balin even approached you about going with him?" Glóin asked, stepping up to his brother. Óin looked up indignantly. "It's assumed, isn't it?" he said. "Balin knows I'll have to go with him to make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself, at least more than he already has. No invitation is necessary, and I'm surprised that you even ask." He went back to packing. "You can't possibly imagine that I'd let Balin tromp off to Moria alone like some addle-brained Man off to seek glory and death, can you? War and danger we've already seen together. I'd be the fool if I didn't follow him." Glóin did not reply, and Óin continued packing. Finally he brought out his old cloak, the very same brown cloak that he had worn to old Bilbo Baggins' house that first day. His fingers ran over the worn wool, feeling the patches and the tears he hadn't bothered to fix, and images flashed through his head of all the events that had caused the rents and stains and general raggedness of the cloak. A nostalgic smile slid unbidden onto his face, and he folded it gently, but did not pack it. He would need it. He turned to his brother. "Besides, it's about time I go on another adventure. Makes a dwarf get soft, sitting around in safety all the time." Glóin smiled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. Óin shrugged away irritably. "Not to say that I think it's a good idea, mind you. I'm just going along for Balin's sake." __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.