Suddenly, three powerful knocks echo at the door, so different from Zac's hesitant tapping just minutes earlier. Silence falls instantly over the gathering. All eyes turn toward the entrance, palpable anticipation filling the air. Gandalf moves to the door and opens it with new solemnity.
On the threshold stands a dwarf whose presence immediately commands respect. Taller than his companions, his noble face framed by a black beard threaded with silver, he radiates a natural authority that even Zac, accustomed to the presence of Elven lords, finds impressive. The atmosphere changes instantly, the dwarves straighten, their expressions growing graver, more respectful.
"Gandalf," says the newcomer, his voice a deep rumble filling the room. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn't have found it at all without that mark on the door."
"A mark?" exclaims Bilbo, visibly offended. "There is no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!"
"There is a mark, I put it there myself," Gandalf interjects with amused patience. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to present the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."
The wizard then turns to the dwarf. "Thorin, this is Master Baggins."
Thorin examines the hobbit with unconcealed skepticism, sizing him up with a gaze that seems to find fault with everything it sees. "So this is the Hobbit," he says finally. "Tell me, Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?"
Bilbo blinks, caught off guard. "Pardon me? Fighting? No, I don't believe so, no."
Thorin continues his interrogation, asking questions that clearly make the hobbit uncomfortable, each answer seeming to confirm his doubts about their host's usefulness for the quest ahead. Then his gaze falls on Zac, studying him with the same scrutinizing intensity.
"And him? Who is this?" he asks, his tone indicating he doesn't appreciate surprises, especially in the form of strangers at what should be a private meeting.
"This is Zac," Gandalf replies, his tone suggesting he expected this question. "A valuable ally whose blade has already proven useful. He has agreed to join our quest."
Thorin approaches Zac, studying him with undisguised wariness. Despite his modest height compared to Men, the dwarf prince radiates a presence that fills the space around him. His eyes, deep blue, seem to see beyond appearances, seeking to pierce whatever secrets Zac might harbor.
"You have the bearing of a warrior," he concedes finally, "but the wild lands are full of rangers. Tell me, Zac, are your skills limited to the sword, or do you possess more... discreet talents? Are you a burglar?"
The question is direct, almost provocative. Zac meets Thorin's gaze without flinching, aware that his answer will determine how the dwarf regards him thereafter. He draws on his newfound wisdom, seeking words that will be both honest and useful.
"I am what the quest requires of me," he replies calmly, his voice carrying that subtle harmony now part of his being. "I may not be a burglar, but I know how to open doors thought forever sealed."
Silence follows his words. Thorin studies him a moment longer, then nods almost imperceptibly, seeming to accept, for now at least, the presence of this stranger with luminous eyes. Gandalf observes the exchange with a barely concealed smile, as if everything is proceeding exactly as he had planned.