Many thanks to BrownEyedGirl87with her second review: "Epic! :D Very good dialogue, you added her into the world of Middle Earth so well! Not many people can create a character like her, especially with her whole history. Can't wait for more! :)"

Along with EsmexCarlisle, lotusbe88 and slytheringirl22, who have put this story on their alert list.

And anji1504, lotusbe88 and slytheringirl22 for favoriting this story.


Disclaimer; I only own Idril,Arcadia and my characters. The rest belong to Peter Jackson and Tolkien. Some lines from the movie and book will be used, but I do not own them.


Chapter 3: The Hall of Fire


"All of the guests and Free People of Middle- Earth have arrived," said Lindir to Lord Elrond.

"Good, good. Let us call a feast in the Hall of Fire, for all of our guests who have arrived."

All of those people who arrived headed to the Hall, including Idril who had finally awoken. Elrond's hall was filled with folk, as the elves bustled around bringing all kinds of foods and drinks to the long dining table and the several other smaller, circular tables around it.

There was Elrond, in his high chair, presiding over the hall and to his right was Glorfindel of Gondolin, of The House of the Golden Flower, The Balrog- Slayer of old. His long golden hair streamed behind him as he examined the hall. To Elrond's left was Mithrandir, in his normal robe, with his long grey cloak and beard, looking properly like a wizard of old, which he was. Next to Gandalf was Idril Calaereth in a long blue and silver dress and her circlet, which sparkled in the lamplight. Along with these were many distinguished guests, and after they had all eaten they spread out talking, greeting and meeting various folks.

Idril went straight forth to her good friend Arwen Undómiel and talked for a while with her.

"Ah Arwen, it is good to see you again."

"It is also good to see you Idril for it has been too long since you last visited."

"I know, but there were too many things to do in Arcadia. Being Queen is very, very, tiring."

You are always forgiven my friend.


Frodo's POV

Near the canopy I saw the two elven ladies converse. Against the woven cloths upon the wall, there was the first elf, who looked like she was related to Elrond, as they had very similar faces and features. Young she was, and yet not so for she seemed as ageless, if not more than the fair elves of Middle-earth. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost; her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night, yet queenly she looked. Above her brow was a cap of silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; but her soft grey raiment had no ornament save a girdle of leaves wrought in silver.

The second lady face was also flawless, besides a thin scar which ran down the length of her brow. Her silvery eyes sparkled in the near moonlight, and they held knowledge, wisdom and grace. She wore a blue, long dress, with shades of silver which matched her eyes and a circlet of silver with two silver leaves. They were both perfectly matched and fair and the second lady smiled and then glanced at me, sensing someone. Her eyes swept the room, as piercing as a sword were they but they softened as she saw my gaze.

She excused herself to her friend and walked up to me, smiling as she bent to my height.

"Greetings, Master Hobbit, may the stars shine on our meeting. My name is Idril of Arcadia, and that is Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of our people. Do not feel amazed or abashed to be here among the beauty of the elves, for we are all equal, though we elves are immortal.

I replied, "Thank you, your hospitality matches those of us Hobbits who live in the Shire. Have you ever been there, my lady?"

Nay Frodo, do not call me 'my lady', Idril will suffice. And in answer to your question, I have been there but it has been a long time, too long since I last visited the Shire. I shall have to pay a visit when this business with the ring is over. I have been too busy of late, she said, her eyes clouding and narrowing as she mulled over an unknown topic. However, she quickly adjusted, and her eyes sparkled once more.

"How did you know my name, Idril?"

"I know a great many things, dear Frodo, and all shall revealed in time or at the council. However, it is good to see that you have recovered partially from that dreadful Morgul blade, though it may never fully heal."

Then a dwarf came up, who was richly dressed. His beard, very long and forked was white, with streaks of red. He wore a silver belt and round his neck hung a chain of silver and diamonds.

"Well met!" said the dwarf turning towards me and Idril.

"Gloin at your service, master Hobbit and my lady," as he bowed to me and Idril.

"Frodo Baggins at your service and family."

"Idril Calaereth at you service, Gloin."

"Congratulations on your recovery," said Gloin.

For about an hour, we talked together but I listened more than I talked, for news of the Shire seemed trivial besides what Gloin had to say. He spoke of news in the northern regions of of the East. I learned of the son of Beorn, whose father dear Bilbo knew, was now the chief of many strong men and to their land between the Mountains and Mirkwood neither orc nor warg dared to go.

"Indeed," said Gloin, "if it were not for the Beornings, the passage from Dale to Rivendell would long ago have become impossible. They are valiant men and keep open the High Pass and the ford of Carrock. But their tolls are high," he added with a shake of his beard," and like Beorn of old they are not over fond of dwarves. Still they are trusty, and that is much in these days."

Idril commented, "I am sorry to hear of the passing of Beorn. He was a dear friend. Dear me, I have too many people I have not visited for too long."

"What of the lonely Mountain," I asked.

"There is much to tell, good and bad, yet it is mostly good: we have so far been fortunate, though we do not escape the shadow of these times. But all agree that at the return of the lord of silver fountains all of the Dwarf-kingdoms have prospered" replied Gloin.

With that Gloin embarked on a long account of the doings of the Dwarf-Kingdom. He was delighted to find two such polite listeners, for we showed no sign of weariness. Gloin told of Dain, King under the Mountain, who was now 215, being very rich. From the Battle of Five Armies, seven still were at Erebor, Dwalin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. Bombur, hilariously, was now so fat that he could not move with the help of six dwarves.

"But what has become of Balin and Ori and Oin?" asked I.

A shadow passed over Gloin's face as he darkened. "We do not know," he answered.

"It is largely on account of Balin that I have come to ask the advice of Elrond. But tonight let us speak of merrier things."

However, Idril interrupted, "I have news of Balin and his company, Gloin, for they stayed with me for about a month. But as I told Frodo here, all shall be revealed in time or at the council, where I shall speak of what I know."


Back to Third Person POV

At length the feast came to an end. Elrond, Arwen and Idril rose and went down the hall and all the folk followed them in due order. The doors were thrown open, and they went across a wide passage and through other doors, and cam into a further hall. In it were no tables, but a bright fire was burning in a great hearth between the carven pillars upon either side.

Frodo found himself walking with Gandalf.

"This is the Hall of Fire. Here you will hear many songs and tales- if you can keep awake. There is always a fire here, all the year round. "Said the wizard.

Slowly the hall filled as the minstrels and bards played, and many fair faces were gathered together, and the golden firelight played upon them and shimmered in their hair. Suddenly, Frodo noticed a small figure, whom he found out, to his joy to be Bilbo. They talked together for a long time, as they exchanged stories of the Shire and Rivendell. Then came Strider, clad in dark green quietly. After many minutes, the two hobbits noticed him and looked up.

Bilbo responded, "Ah, there you are at last, Dúnadan!" "Strider!" said Frodo. "You seem to have a lot of names." "The Dúnadan, said Bilbo. " He is often called that here. But I thought you knew enough Elvish at least to dún-adan: Man of the West, Númenorean. But this is not the time for lessons! Where were you?" Bilbo asked, turning to Strider. "The Lady Arwen was there and also Idril who has not been here for a long time." "I know, but Elladan and Elrohir have returned, and they had news and tidings of the orcs, which attacked Idril, which I wanted to hear at once."

"But now that I have returned, I'll help with that song of yours which is to be presented in the evening."

The beauty of the melodies and the songs in the elven-tongues held all who heard them in a beautiful spell. The words seemed to take shape and visions of far lands and rolling hills appeared. Finally, Bilbo stood up and chanted his tale of Eärendil and Elwing, the great mariner, father of Elrond. When it was finally done Bilbo, was seated on his stool in a circle of listeners, who were smiling and applauding.

"Again,Again!" answered Lindir laughing. "We know that you are never tired of reciting your poems. With that, the Elves dispersed but stopped to listen again to two beautiful voices rising in song.

A Elbereth Gilthoniel

silivren penna míriel

o menel aglar elenath!

Na-chaered palan-díriel

o galadhremmin ennorath,

Fanuilos, le linnathon

nef aear, sí nef aearon!

A Elbereth Gilthoniel

o menel palan-diriel,

le nallon sí di'nguruthos!

A tiro nin, Fanuilos!

O Elbereth Starkindler, the glory of the starry host!

Having gazed far away

from the tree-woven lands of Middle-earth,

to thee, Everwhite, I will sing,

on this side of the Sea,

here on this side of the Ocean!

O Elbereth Starkindler,

from heaven gazing afar,

to thee I cry now beneath the shadow of death!

"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.

Of him the harpers sadly sing:

The last whose realm was fair and free

Between the mountains and the sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen.

His shining helm afar was seen.

The countless stars of heaven's field

Were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago he rode away,

And where he dwelleth none can say.

For into darkness fell his star;

In Mordor, where the shadows are."

His daughter fought beside him,

But even she could not save him from fate, grim.

She rode forth to avenge the King,

And of that we sing.

The voices belonged to the Lady Arwen fair and Idril, and beside them was Aragorn, with his dark cloak thrown back, and he seemed to be clad in elven-mail, and a star shone on his breast. Frodo then perceived that he saw seven tears fall from Idril as she sung, and it seemed like the song would never end.

The stars of Varda, shined through the balconies and trees, as the guests prepared to go to bed, but still the trio sang, tall Aragorn, fair Arwen and mournful Idril, of far off places and of dungeons deep, and caverns old.


NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE COUNCIL!

I'LL TRY AND UPDATE VERY SOON

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