Ori's POV
The moment I heard that Bilbo was going to the library with an elf that morning, I knew I'd have to come along too. After all, I knew that Bilbo loved books, books of every sort, much the same as I did, and I also knew that much of the Company was afeard that Bilbo would not leave with us after the time came to leave Rivendell. Surely I could do my part to make certain he stayed.
I smiled as I realized that at least I had a plan, and that was half the battle; all I had to do from there was execute it. I walked down the halls slowly, creeping towards the library even though I'd been assured it wasn't at all necessary to creep, thinking that surely the elf was gushing about the stories of his people without even a thought for the true, good tales. I scoffed like Nori often did, although I don't think I was quite as skilled at it, and pushed open the enormous, heavy doors to the library.
Bilbo was almost immediately visible from his place at a large table, his soft, round face brightened by a large smile, laughter glinting in his eyes. My fingers itched for a piece of parchment and something to draw with; I'd yet to get his sketch, and such a pose would've been divine. The elf at his side smiled as well, but it didn't look nearly so full of life, of honest joy; rather it was serene, a spare curve of lips, a faint crinkle of eyes. I felt a bit frightened, for a moment, trapped in such a room with an elf, and only my slingshot and a dull knife for weapons should he become violent with me.
I thought for a split second that I should just leave, until I remembered that I had to do my part to dissuade the elves and keep our burglar at our side. I lifted my chin just a little and began stepping as casually as I could manage over to the desk. Bilbo's gaze flickered over to me when I was a few feet away, and his face lit up in another smile at the sight of me.
"Ori! Come here, come here; you once told me you could read Sindarin, didn't you? Surely you'd find this fascinating, and the illustrations are simply lovely!" The elf seemed not entirely happy at my intrusion, but he shuttered it away as quick as an arrow's flash as I settled at Bilbo's other side, skimming over the text he pointed out and nodding.
It was a fine little story, elvish or not, and as he'd said, the illustrations were very pretty. The elf looked smug, as if he could read my mind and see my opinion. I'd have probably said something rude, if I'd been alone, or if one of my brothers had been with me instead of Bilbo, but, well… I didn't want to upset him. I offered a smile of my own and a nod that was as enthusiastic as I could manage to make it.
"It is very nice," I said, and he smiled again.
"I'm very glad you like it; I thought of you the moment I saw it, actually. I was about to go hunt you down so you could see it. Ah, Master Liron, you mentioned another text, didn't you? One a bit similar to this one?" The elf chuckled and stroked the burglar's hair once with long, gentle hands, the gesture almost exploratory, as if the elf was planning some type of research, some experiment.
"Back wall of shelves, furthest left, third shelf from the bottom, large blue book," he said, and Bilbo nodded, hopping from the chair and making his way towards the directed area. He was bedecked in silken, elven clothing rather than what he'd come to us in, or any of the things we'd given him for the journey, and that sent another dagger of fear through my heart; if he was even dressing as they did, what hope did we truly have to keep him among us? But, no; I could not think like that! Who knew what the rest of the party, much less my own thoughts, would say to me if I gave up that easily?
I squared myself, looking the elf hard in the eyes and jutting out my chin. The elf only arched an eyebrow gracefully, his eyes sparking with something that I'd have called mischief if I'd seen it anywhere else.
"I never thought I'd meet a dwarf interested in our stories," he said, propping his chin on his hand, and I glared, shaking my head. I knew I wasn't nearly so threatening as, say, Dwalin, or Oin, or Thorin, but I was certain enough that I could stand against a single elf, of all things.
"Of course I'm not! I'm… I'm only here to help look after Mr. Baggins. He shouldn't be left alone with the likes of you!" I never thought I'd hear the laughter of an elf, not really; after all, they're cold, aloof creatures, not really the laughing type, but this one exploded with it, mirth written on his every feature.
"The likes of me? Why, I ought to be saying as much of you! Hobbits are delicate creatures, not suited to dwarves at all, really, but very interesting nonetheless. I've never met one before, you see; they so rarely travel. Of course, if they're all as wonderful as Master Bilbo, I'd not mind visiting the Shire for a time myself." I could feel myself growing offended very quickly, for more reasons than one and not all of them related to the fact that he'd so obviously insulted myself and my people. In fact, I'd almost claim that I was more offended that he'd called Bilbo a "delicate" creature when, despite my own first perceptions of him, he'd proved otherwise more than once.
"Master Baggins is the finest hobbit to ever be born, and I'd suggest that you never say otherwise! Why, he's as far from delicate as any of us dwarves!" I said, probably a touch too loudly. The elf's eyes widened just a touch and he took a slight step backwards, hand cautiously at his hip where a knife was slung.
"I never said he wasn't fine, Master dwarf, simply that his race was, as a whole, more delicate than most others upon our Middle Earth." I still made my stare as harsh as I could, crossing my arms over my chest as I imagined some of the larger members of our company might.
"Yes, well, why don't you partake in some elvish politeness and leave Bilbo alone? It's very rude to try and steal other people's hobbits; go fetch your own if you want one so badly! And, if you… if you try to keep our burglar, I'll fight you!" There, yes, that was it; an ultimatum! Nori had always told me that that was the best way to approach a difficult situation. Of course, Dori had often very violently disagreed with that notion, and the elf looked not at all happy with me, just then. I cleared my throat and shifted on my feet, ready despite my fear for him to take me at my word, for I was the warrior-scribe, and I had sworn, even if only to myself, to earn that title by the end of the quest. I thought for a moment that then might've been my chance, but Bilbo returned very suddenly, a gargantuan blue book cradled in his arms and a grin on his lips.
The elf and I both relaxed, him giving me a hard, angry frown and a distrustful look, before he patted the hobbit's head once again. I felt my teeth grinding and my lips pursing; I didn't often wish to fight, but then, I wanted very much to land a good, solid punch on him. A smirk flashed upon his lips before he stepped back.
"I'm afraid I must leave for a time, Bilbo. Enjoy the remainder of your morning with your companion, yes? And please do feel free to take one or two of the texts you most enjoy. Ah, and Meren wished for me to ask you to meet her in the kitchens this evening. She thought you might like to help prepare dinner." Anyone could've seen how happy that made Bilbo, and even though neither I nor the company had been the one to put the look there, I still wished to capture the image on paper.
"Thank you, Liron; I couldn't begin to tell you how much I appreciate the kindness that has been shown to me here. Please do tell her I'd be happy to join her, by the way!" he said, and the elf chuckled once more, nodding. I thought of the company and edged a bit closer to the smaller creature beside me, and closer still when I imagined the glower Thorin would show me if ever he discovered that it was me who'd let the hobbit slip through our fingers. The elf bowed nonetheless, though, and Bilbo set in immediately to showing me passages from the book.
I realized something then, with Bilbo excitedly showing me different drawings and passages in various books: even though the elf had gotten the last jab in, I'd won. He'd left, not me. This was the first step! Perhaps, I thought, peeking over at Bilbo's kind features, he'd stay with us after all. I'd done my part, and now all that was left was to tell the others of the elves' next attempt to take him now that books had failed: food. It was time for another to prove we wouldn't let our burglar go so lightly! I grinned and squeezed him suddenly, and he gasped, before he laughed and returned the grip.
"You really are sweet, Ori," he murmured, and I giggled, wondering if he knew how many of us would say the same of him.
"Thank you, Master Baggins," I responded, allowing the soft rustling of the pages, and Bilbo's periodic exclamations, to fill the room once again.