The forest had always been a lively place. Flowers of all different colors were always in bloom, sun rays filtered through the treetops, making patterns on the ground foliage. Here and there small animals had darted in and out of cozy hiding places. But recently a shadow had been cast over the forest. Nathrindal noticed it as she trudged through the forest. She had been looking for Radagast the Brown for hours, his mossy and rotting tree house had been left deserted. The critters such as Sebastian the hedgehog, a close friend of Radagast, hadn't been able to point her in the right direction but he did tell her that the forest was changing, it was turning poisonous and evil was rising from its depths. Nathrindal hadn't been in Fangorn since she was a child, but her intelligent and observant elf eyes had remembered everything, and now she could see the difference: plant's were dying, there were unusual tracks of abnormally large animals, the forest seemed to be darkening and the trees were swaying in anguish and their rustling leaves whispered concerns. Suddenly, Nathrindal's perfectly pointed ears heard a rustling in the undergrowth. Out popped a small figure, with pointy ears and large feet. Aznor, Nathrindal's hobbit friend, was panting and doubling over to catch her breath. She was a cute little hobbit. Quite slim indeed for a hobbit, she had long, wavy, hazel, hair that shone when the sun hit it, she had fair skin and light green eyes. Aznor was said to be the cutest hobbit in the entire city she had come from. She looked quite different in contrast to Nathrindal. Nathrindal may be an elf but instead of the usual blonde tones that elves inherit she had long, black, sleek, hair that went to the center of her back, her blue eyes looked like they went on forever and her fair skin was lighter than most elves, but most had admitted she was very pretty indeed. Finally Aznor spoke.
"I found his tracks, Radagast I mean, he was heading south towards Rivendell".
"Good job my dear friend, lets catch up with him." Hoisting the bow she was carrying on to her shoulder, Nathrindal, and Aznor headed into a southerly direction following Radagast's trail. They ran for a couple of minutes, branches scratching their faces and bramble bushes snagging at their delicately made, elven robes, till they stopped in their tracks. They heard voices. They heard the high, panicky, stuttering, voice that belonged to Radagast but also other deep male voices, coming from behind some thick brambles. Grabbing her smooth elven bow, Nathrindal nocked an arrow into place and aimed it at the direction of the voices. Taking a deep breath, she and Aznor stepped out of the forest and into a clearing where they found a strange sight indeed.
Thirteen dwarves, a tall grey wizard, and Radagast the Brown had all turned to face them. In an instance the dwarves drew sharp swords from their sheaths and pointed it at the two newcomers. But the grey wizard dismissed the dwarves with a wave of his large hand, signaling that the elf and hobbit were no threat. Aznor was the first to speak.
"You…you're Gandalf the Grey", she said, recognizing the old man, "You're said to have the most amazing fireworks around." The wizard laughed a rough but cheerful laugh.
"It seems my fireworks are better known than I am, but may I ask what Aznor the Hobbit from Lothlorien and Nathrindal the Dark Lady from Lothlorien are doing all the way in Fangorn? Visiting relatives in Rivendell, perhaps?" Gandalf asked politely, a glint of suspicion in his eyes. Putting her bow and arrow back on her back and standing up straight, Nathrindal answered.
"We could ask you the same question. But if you must know, we are here, sent by the Lady of Light, to assist Radagast with the strange happenings in Fangorn," she snapped. Radagast nodded quickly to confirm their story. Nathrindal scanned the sea of dirty and tired dwarf faces that were staring back at them, but she noticed one face in particular that stood out. Unlike the others, this dwarf had a thin, perfectly angular, nose, he had long, dark, hair and only a little bit of stubble surrounding his pink lips and he seemed to be quite young. Another, dark haired dwarf stepped out from the crowd.
"You have no business here with us, elf," he sneered.
"Indeed we don't," Nathrindal, retorted, "we are merely looking for Radagast and not a smelly company of dwarves." The last comment caused an outburst. A lot of protests and insults were flung around and one peculiar dwarf, with an axe embedded in his forehead, shouted at the two girls in Khuzdul. Aznor cautioned her friend and broke the silence with a tremendous, ear-splitting whistle.
"This is silly she snapped," an air of irritation in her voice, "we are not here to fight with you."
"She's absolutely right…I'm Bilbo by the way," chimed in another, more masculine, voice and out from the crowd stepped another, middle-aged, hobbit. Aznor seemed quite star struck at seeing another hobbit. The hobbit was slightly taller that Aznor, he was wearing a dirty pair of pants that went just beyond his kneecaps, a green vest that was topped off with a dark, red, velvet jacket. His light, bronze hair was wavy and went to his pointy hobbit ears. He smiled pleasantly at Aznor who had shaken herself out of her daze. Suddenly a howl pierced the air.
"A wolf?" one dwarf inquired, his voice trembling.
"That's no wolf, it's a Warg," Nathrindal whispered taking hold of her bow.
"And that means an Orc pack is not far behind," Gandalf added. With a loud crash an ugly, mass of coarse brown fur and vicious snapping teeth, resembling a large wolf, bounded into the clearing. Nathrindal prepared to let an arrow fly but in an instance the wolf collapsed on the ground, a poorly fletched arrow stuck in the center of its head. Nathrindal followed the direction from which the arrow had come and found its shooter. It was the handsome, young, dwarf. He glanced at her and smiled.
"The name's Kili," he mumbled. Nathrindal nodded and was about to reply when Gandalf interrupted. He addressed the girls. "It seems you were sent to us! I think the mysterious happenings in Fangorn are linked to our quest", he spoke quickly, "We are in danger here, I fear we are being tracked. If you will follow us I will explain everything later when we find safety." The girls looked at each other and nodded in approval and they raced after the rest of the company, out into the vulnerable Lone Lands.
The sun beat down on their backs. Now that they had left the cooling and protecting shade of the trees they truly realized how harsh the suns could be. Radagast and his Racing Rhosgobel Rabbits were in charge of providing a risky distraction so the company could get away. Radagast, having a gift with all creatures great and small, knew that a Warg couldn't resist the soft, fatty flesh of a rabbit. The company raced across the barren lands with Gandalf leading the way. Unfortunately the dwarves and hobbits, with their shorter, stumpy legs had trouble running long distances, so eventually the fleeing escapees were forced to hide out under the only small outcrop of rock they could find. They huddled together under the rock, catching their breath but trying to be deadly silent. In the distance they heard the snarls of the Wargs as they leapt after the rabbits. A smell, that made Nathrindal's stomach turn over with dread, tingled in her nose. The scrape of claw against rock alerted them to a presence. It was a Warg scout, and he was standing right above them. With a finger signal from one of the dwarves, Kili nocked an arrow to his bow; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of air. In a fast and elegant move, Kili stepped out of the safety of the outcrop and let the arrow fly. The arrow found its target: the center of the Wargs head. With a howl of pain the giant beast tumbled down the rock face, for an agonizingly loud second it cried for help but Kili silenced it before it could draw too much attention. It was already too late. The Wargs desperate howls of help echoed across the Lone Lands and his fellow pack members responded. The disgusting, foul, looking Orcs turned their Wargs towards the scent of Dwarf and took pursuit.
"Hurry, we're not far away now," Gandalf ushered the rest forward.
"Where are you taking us wizard?" the dark haired dwarf snarled. Gandalf didn't reply, he simply turned and led the company towards the destination he had in mind.
They ran and they ran, the gap between predator and prey was getting ever smaller. Gandalf grazed the horizon for what he sought and finally his gaze found it. It was a hole, a hole that was surrounded by several rocks. A coy smile played on the wizard's dry lips. Stubborn Thorin, leader of the company, would not like what Gandalf had planned. "This way!" he yelled to the rest and pointed toward their way to get to safety. One by one they slid into the hole as the Wargs closed in. The hole (really it was more like a cave) was damp, and narrow. Slippery, green, slim clung to the walls and it was impossible to see where one was going. To the left, there seemed to be a dark tunnel winding underground through the Lone Lands. Gandalf charged into the tunnel without fear and slipped out of sight, everyone else quickly followed. Nathrindal smiled to herself, she loved the dark and followed her friends into the darkness without hesitation. As they cautiously made their way through the tunnels, groping the walls in order to find their way, and climbed further away from fresh air and daylight they heard the surprising call of an elven war horn and the battle cries of the Orcs. But the company couldn't afford to turn back now.
The silver, crest of the moon was high in the ink black sky when they finally climbed out of the foul-smelling tunnel. Everybody took a deep breath of the sweet, refreshing, spring, air. The stars twinkled beautifully and shone like diamonds in the clear, night, sky but what lay before the company was far more spectacular. Rivendell, The Last Homely House. It was a secret valley accessed by a steep, slippery zigzag path. The air became warmer, as they descended, and the smell of pine trees made Bilbo drowsy. Pine trees gave way to beech and oak trees and they were soon approached by the elves. The elves galloped towards them on pure, white, and powerful horses. The dwarves, feeling threatened, drew their swords and crowded together in a protective circle.
"Stand down", Gandalf ordered the dwarves, but they didn't dare risk it. A middle aged man jumped off his mighty steed and landed in front of the terrified dwarves. The man had straight, chocolate, brown, hair and eyes. Wrinkles were starting to appear on his forehead but he had a majestic and noble air to him. Nathrindal recognized him immediately. Shouldering her beautifully, carved, oak bow, she stepped forward and curtseyed in front of her uncle.
"Master Elrond," she said, bowing her head. Elrond chuckled and placed a comforting and strong hand on her shoulder. Elrond was the Master of the house. He was noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer.
"Resta trimbiun falathlorn loa Rivendell?" Elrond said in elvish. Nathrindal stood, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her black robes.
"Esia dramigo relsia dom Casari galiom loa Fangorn" Nathrindal replied in a calm and relaxed voice. Elrond faced the dwarves and Gandalf.
"A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting," Elrond said to the crowd, "Mithrandir," he said facing and elegantly bowing to Gandalf. Gandalf bowed in return. "Quel kaima Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva, malia ten' yulna vasa."
"Elrond has allowed us to rest and feed here", Nathrindal announced, glowing with pride, "under the condition that you explain to us what exactly is going."
That night the elves and the dwarves dined in harmony and bliss. After a deliciously cooked meal and some delightful musical entertainment, Nathrindal and Aznor had been filled in on the quest of Erebor, and they were finally, and properly introduced to the dwarves, while Gandalf and Elrond went to the white chapel to speak in secrecy. There were thirteen in total, all quite short and stumpy. Most of them had long and oddly shaped beards, with beads of every color decorating their hair. They had an enormous appetite; they were loud and very rowdy but they grew on you. The fattest of them all was a ginger haired male named Bombur, then came Bifur, the lively Bofur, Nori and then the polite Dori, young adorable Ori, strong Dwalin, wise Balin, skilled and handsome Kili, his older brother Fili, old Oin, then there was Gloin and you couldn't forget the dark haired dwarf, and leader of the dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield.
After a night long of explaining and listening most of the company had fallen asleep next to a roasting and flaming fire, dawn was coming but Bilbo couldn't sleep. He missed home, the whistling of the kettle, the smell of freshly baked bread and of course the comfort of nestling up in a blanket and reading a good, old, classic book. Though the events of the day had greatly tired him, his Tookish curiosity was keeping him awake. He was greatly interested by the arrival of the two newcomers, and was dreading to speak to another hobbit about familiar subjects. But it seemed to be inevitable, because pretty young Aznor had just awoken from a deep, slumber and now it seemed that conversation was compulsory.
"Early riser?" Bilbo asked smiling, warmly.
"It's a custom in Lothlorien", she replied, stifling a great yawn and stretching her stiff back. "Haven't you slept this night?"
"No there has been too much on my mind." Aznor nodded in silent approval. She, also, had been thinking of the Dwarves quest to reclaim Erebor from Smaug the Terrible. It was dangerous and all odds seemed to be against them, but Aznor knew that regardless of the risks, they would join their quest, defeat Smaug and help the dwarves in reclaiming their homeland.
"Would you like to go for a walk with me, stretch your legs?" Aznor suggested. Bilbo nodded in agreement and they strolled down a deserted path. On either side of the cobble stone path, wildflowers of every variety were blooming such as African Daisies, Baby Blue Eyes and Celandines. The sun had just peeked over the horizon and the sky had now become pink like a sea of cotton candy. With the light of the sun coloring the clouds above with a pinkish hew, the sun slowly ascended, the sky in the west became deep neon blue as the light reached further out.
"So you're a hobbit that was raised in Lothlorien I heard," Bilbo asked.
" Well it's rather complicated, I'll tell you the less detailed version" Aznor began, "I was found in Lothlorien, by the Nimrodel River, where my mother, Mimosa, left me to be taken care of by the elves. I was adopted by two of the most kind and generous people you could ever hope to meet, two middle class elves, Aznereth and Eladar". Her face grew darker as she longed for her home. Bilbo touched the soft, bare skin of her forearm, in a comforting manner.
"Continue", he whispered.
" I also have two adoptive brothers and a sister: Eladen, Elazar and Azaril. I love them to death but they can be so difficult sometimes." They stopped at a little waterfall. The water rushed down over grey, moss-covered rocks and into a clear pond of blue water. When they looked into the cool water they saw little sand colored fish swimming about, and in the background the croak of tree frogs and the sizzling sounds of grasshoppers were comforting. Bilbo and Aznor nestled themselves in place between some reeds and continued talking.
"I was fortunate enough to be granted access to an elvish education. When I was around 20, in hobbit years of course, I met Nathrindal. She's one of my best friends." Aznor said.
"She's quite different to the rest of the elves, dark and breathtaking she is, but rather peculiar indeed," Bilbo mentioned. Aznor stifled a smile. "She is not like most elves because she is a direct descendant of Sauron, a dark elf himself, and when she was born the Prophets of Mordor crowned her the Lady of Darkness." Bilbo just nodded, he wasn't quite sure what a Lady of Darkness was but he didn't want to seem ignorant so he refrained from asking Aznor anymore questions about the subject. Luckily Aznor changed the subject.
"Do you miss home?" Aznor inquired.
"Indeed I do," Bilbo replied.
"Where are you from?"
"I am a Baggins of Bag End, which happens to be situated in the rolling, green, hills of the Shire", he said, puffing out his chest proudly. "I quite miss my beloved hobbit hole, with its neat little garden, and the vast cabernet of delicacies and the rows of books I have. Most of my books are about adventures like, The Travels of Buffin Proudfoot or The First Hobbit to Ride a Real Horse."
"Books about adventures?" Aznor gasped with content, Bilbo noticed the sparkle of excitement in her amazing eyes. "Elvish books are all about the wisdoms of life, and about herbal remedies and ancients spells", Aznor said rolling her eyes, "I mean it's all very interesting…if you like that kind of stuff."
"Well, if we survive this horrible ordeal, you must come visit me and you can read all of my books," Bilbo promised. Aznor having never lived with hobbits, in fact had never had any contact with any hobbit before, showed her gratitude by throwing her arms around a stunned Bilbo and pulled him close. She let go and they sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. When suddenly they heard loud shouts coming from the direction of their camp.