As Aeldre got closer to the Dining hall, the sound of soft Elven music from the strings of harps and lutes, and the whistles of flutes became clear to her ears. The half-breed hid behind a wall to keep herself from out of sight, but as she heard Lord Elrond approaching from behind her she quickly made her way up the stairs to the balcony. Safely in position, Aeldre peered down to watch Elrond walking towards the dining hall in his best robes with Gandalf and Lindir. As they entered, she shifted her attention to the Dwarves, who didn't seem to be amused by Elvish cuisine presented to them.
"Just a mouthful," said a Dwarf at the far left, holding a glass of wine.
"I don't like green food," replied a younger Dwarf in disgust.
"Where's the meat?!" implored a muscular Dwarf, looking quite frustrated.
Aeldre rolled her eyes, lifting her hood to hide her face and sat quietly. So far not much with the dwarves has happened that seemed interesting to the half-breed, until she overheard Elrond's conversation with Gandalf and one of the Dwarves with a black mane of hair.
"This is Orcrist," Elrond explained, running a critical eye down the length of the blade that the dwarf had begrudgingly handed over. "The Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin," Lord Elrond said, giving the Dwarf his sword back. "May it serve you well." Next, he takes Gandalf's sword and examines the weapon. "And this is Glamdring. The Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age." Elrond passed the sword back and asked, "How did you come by these?"
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road," Gandalf replied, "shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
"And what were you doing on the Great East road?" Elrond asked , his curiosity clearly drawn.
Gandalf abruptly became quiet, hesitating to answer, until the Dwarf with black hair spoke. "Excuse me," he said in a tense tone as he got up from his chair and walked away from the table, leaving his plate still filled with food.
Aeldre watched him for a moment, before Elrond drew her attention again. Orcs, huh? she thought, thinking back about what Gandalf mentioned, before coming here to Rivendell. She had a history with Orcs, so the word that the wizard uttered out disgusted her.
"Thirteen Dwarves and a Halfling." He sighed, "Strange traveling companions, Gandalf." Elrond took a sip of his wine from the tall, clear glass in his hand.
"This is the descendants of the House of Durin!" Gandalf exclaimed beginning to sound exasperated, "The noble, decent folks, who are surprisingly cultured and have deep love of the arts."
Aeldre's attention was drawn away from Gandalf and Elrond as a dwarf with unusually styled hair turned over his shoulder to the harpist playing softly behind him. "Change the tune why don't you?!" he said, turning back around to smirk at his companions. "I feel like I'm in a funeral!"
The next Dwarf, a bit more gray haired than the others, twisted the hearing trumpet in his ear, looking about frantically. "Did somebody died?!"
"Alright lads, there's only one way for it!" Another Dwarf wearing a hat, suddenly leapt onto the table and trampled over the plates to a tree stump in the middle. Aeldre was confused for a moment, but quickly found her confusion turned to exasperation as he began to sing out an odd Dwarvish song.
There is an inn, a merry old inn,
Beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown,
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat
That plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
Now sawing in the middle.
The dwarves around him began to throw their vegetables and dumplings everywhere, some directly towards the singing Dwarf. To Aldre's suppressed amusement, one decided to throw their salad at a statue, narrowly missing Lindir. As the song ended, they cheered loudly and roared in laughter.
Noble folks? Aeldre thought with a roll of her eyes. Right. She found it hard to believe that such irritating Dwarves such as these would ever be called noble.
"Excuse me," Aeldre was startled by the sudden voice from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see one of the dwarves from the table, one of the younger ones with a full head of blonde hair, "Might I ask what's a pretty lass such as yourself doing watching us from up here?"
Aeldre pulled her gaze away from the Dwarf's bright blue eyes and adjusted her hood to better hide her face. "I am not watching them, Master Dwarf. I am simply observing. It is unusual to have such…odd company here."
The blonde Dwarf chuckled. "Isn't observing the same as watching?"
Aeldre didn't reply.
"Not the party type, then?" he prompted further, stepping out into the balcony beside her.
Aeldre leaned her head against the wall refusing to meet the intruder's gaze as she watches the Dwarves now enjoying their meal properly. "I am not over fond of crowds, especially with a crowd as…boisterous as this." The half-breed took a short glance up at the dwarf, "And you? Are you not going to join your friends?"
"In a moment," he glances with a slight smirk down at her. "You look rather suspicious in that getup, you know. It looks as if you are ready to assassinate one of us at any given moment."
Aeldre gave a roll of her eyes, scoffing slightly. "If you do not like it, then you might as well leave me be. I am not going to be changing my clothing simply because some Dwarf commented about my sense of fashion." Aeldre removed her glance from him.
"I meant no insult by it, My Lady," he hastily corrected himself, "I think a maiden with a bit of a mystery to her is much more interesting than most you'd find out there in Middle Earth. It's not every day I came across such a woman quite so fascinating as yourself."
Aeldre felt A blush start on her cheeks. Despite her annoyance, it seemed that this dwarf's flirting was somehow getting to her.
"If you don't mind me asking, My Lady, What is your name—"
Aeldre shook any embarrassment away, quickly standing up, "—that is none of your concern, Dwarf." With that, she took off, brushing past the Dwarf without a glance in his direction.
"Wait!" he exclaimed, stopping Aeldre. "My name is Fili. I do hope to see you again soon, My Lady."
Aeldre struggled not to snark something back at Fili, but kept her lips sealed and continued walking till she was far away from the Dwarf. She knew it was likely that she would encounter at least one of the Dwarves, or possibly the Hobbit, but she never thought they would sneak up on her like that, or that they would seem quite so insistent on wooing her. Usually Elves and Dwarves clashed in personality and ideals in many ways. They're conflicting past, of course, didn't help. Needless to say, her meeting with Fili made her feel a bit twitchy. She at least hoped she wouldn't have to bump into him again any time soon).
