(~AN: So, there's been some excitement of meeting Thranduil later on, and I've realized I need to give you all a choice. There are two ways I can take this story, and honestly I'm fine with both so I would love your opinion. ^.^

Would you guys rather a story that sticks to the general storyline of the movies, or a story that veers away almost completely but in many senses is much more realistic? So basically, the characters we all know and love :P or a more realistic plot-line. Please, PM or review your opinions. My main goal is giving you guys what you want. ^.^

~~P.S: This chapter is a bit of a filler and not too long b/c what happens next totally depends on the direction the story is heading. xD Also I felt that the last chapter didn't have enough description of Rivendell. )

Chapter Ten

The Last Homely House

~Beauty Unknown

It was like gazing at the stars and recognizing how small you really were. To us the world seems big, limitless and full with too many wonders to see in one lifetime. But it could just as easily be a speck of dust. We could be dust, to someone, somewhere. Sometimes I look at the stars and see, not a freckled sky, but a black curtain over something white and bright. The stars we see are apart of this world beyond, not specks but glimpses through holes in the sky. It's a bit unnecessarily poetic, I guess. But it's impossible not to be, when you're looking up at the sky. Some people have the fortune to see this type wonder wherever they look. They see the leaves and think of fingers, the mountains as the curves and shapes of the earth's body, rain as it's tears and wind as it's breath, sunrise as it's awakening. Life can be tragic and cruel, but there is always a place in the world that remains beautiful.

This is that place.

My mouth trembled and my shoulders shook as I looked on and out, crying silently but viciously. I lost all sense of time, and any shame I might have felt by my reaction was long, long gone. I might have been worried of the Dwarves. What would they think, seeing me kneel in hysteric admiration, at the door to an Elven kingdom? Would they be resentful? Untrusting? Wary that I could show such affection to a place somewhat enemy to them? Or, perhaps, would they understand, because deep down they feel it to, and only are better at hiding it? I might have been more careful, but any thought of caution or preservation or even dignity flew away the moment I had opened my eyes.

I was there. I thought of a seven-year-old transfixed by a moving image, sitting cross-legged on the living room rug and staring into the TV screen like there was nothing else in the world. Gimli, Legolas, Aragorn and the Hobbits; I rode the horses with them, and trekked the bountiful green hills and fought the withering orcs by their side. I was seven and I dreamed of adventure. And when I finished The Lord of the Rings for the first time, I felt lost. Imagine that, a seven year old girl having an existential crisis. I looked at the world I lived in and felt trapped, like Eowen, only escaping the cage was impossible. Because there were no dragons in Brentbrook, or Elves or glowing blue symbols sketching into doors. There were cars, and medicines and many dreams that could come true, some easily and others with effort and substantial luck. But every world had it's limits. Though farfetched a little kid's dream to one day be president is possible. My dream, however, was not. I had to settle for the next best thing; living vivaciously through characters of any form. Reading, writing, waching- that was the closest I could ever be to the real thing.

If only that poor seven-year-old could see me now. I was living the dream that never should have been possible. There were challenges involved, horrors to come, but at that moment they all escaped me. I couldn't have grasped any of those cautions if I wanted. Because there, kneeling on the gray-stone bridge and out unto Rivendell, the concept of darkness seemed impossible. It was silly to think anything bad could be in a world that was so beautiful.

A voice cleared somewhere around me. I almost noticed it, but it was the gentle hand on my shoulder that tethered my mind back to the ground. I looked up. Bilbo was there, his eyes red and glazed but not watering like mine. There was also Gandalf, but the rest of the bridge was empty. The Dwarves were gone, Kili and Fili included. How...how long had I been sitting there?

"It's time to keep walking," Gandalf said.

I looked at him, confused. "Where is everyone?"

"Why, they have went inside!" Gandalf said, his voice amused and kind. I realized how long it had been since he used that voice with me. From the beginning Gandalf knew I kept things from him, but over the course of our journey, especially after Radigast...who's appearance felt years away...(it was shocking to realize that it was only that morning)...those things I kept hidden were slowly coming to light. "What are you not telling me." Gandalf was terrifying then, furious and worried and demanding. How different his voice was now. "You have been sitting there for quite a long while."

"What? How long?" I asked, flabbergasted (damn I love that word) that I hadn't noticed a thing.

"Long enough," Gandalf said. "But it's time to go inside now."

I blanched and looked towards...Rivendell. "But- but I'm not ready!" I insisted. I didn't think I could take it- the excitment, being tossed from the presence of a drugged wizard to the center of a furious orc battle to the front steps of The Last Homely House. It was too much. I was only mortal. Woah- human. Why...When did I start thinking of myself with that term? Mortal. The world was moving by me so fast I wasn't able to notice when I had made that change.

"That may be…" Gandalf breathed. "But you have never been more prepared."

I looked up and shared his wry smile. I said that, when I was still back in Brentbrook...It had only been ten days ago and I felt so utterly disconnected from that version of myself. Could I really have changed so much? Woah. What would happen when I went home a different person? Surely my parents would be suspicious. No one goes to sleep and wakes up an entirely new self. Ah crap. I didn't think about that.

I understood my time at the bridge was up. I looked out towards the sky, golden and mystical; a sky to be envied. "It's beautiful," I whispered.

"Indeed it is," Gandalf said, gazing at the horizon, his face cast in a yellow shadow. "And it will never not be."

I took a deep breath and stood to my feet. It took a surprising amount of effort- like my body wanted to stay there forever. Bilbo still stood at my side, quiet and watching the masterpiece before us. I wasn't sure if he had stayed there the whole time, whether for me or for the view as well. I didn't particularly care- at least one other in the company understood, and shared, my total awe. Together, the three of us staring walked towards Rivendell.

~An Unexpected Detail

"I thought I should warn you Natasha," Gandalf said with careful words, "that Elrond will want a word with you during our stay.

"Elrond?" I gulped. I mean, I couldn't say I was so surprised. I was preparing for it for a long while now. I would have been surprised if he didn't want to. No doubt Gandalf spoke of me when he snuck here several days ago. There were many things some might think peculiar about me. My being a human but traveling with Dwarves, my strange backpack and the tricks it held, the odd way I talked when my guard was down and, of course, the fact that I knew many things a teenage mortal- damn, human, girl shouldn't know. A Psychic. Please. I wondered if the facade would fool the Elves. Then again, there should be no other way for them to explain it. They had to be more keen on believing I had magical seer abilities than even guessing I might be an Other-worlder. That was just ridicules. I was still having difficulties accepting that.

"He wanted to come with me, when Kili and Fili told us you and Bilbo were still on the bridge. But I…" Gandalf thought for the appropriate words, "I thought that would be too much excitement, for one day."

I sighed in relief. Just imagining Elrond being there when I woke from my weird trance thingy was mortifying. No doubt I would have just dropped dead. Dear lord that would have been embarrassing. I nodded. "You have my thanks."

"You two are welcome to join the Elves and Dwarves at Lord Elrond's table for supper. If not, someone can show you your rooms. Thorin wasn't keen on accepting any housing, however...It seems our stay might be a bit longer than intended."

Bilbo and I frowned at Gandalf together. "What do you mean?" The Hobbit asked.

Gandalf cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on his long brown staff. It was hard to focus on him, and not the scene around us. The bridge, this Lonely bridge extending over nothing and bare and unadorned, was perhaps the most beautiful place I had ever been. Rivendell was magnificent and royal, but the view, the feeling of this bridge, was godly. We stood under an expanse of sky and clouds glowing pink and gold in the setting sun. No roof, no trees or awning or cave mouth covering our heads or protecting our sides. There was nothing to hold, nothing touch, other than the bridge and whoever in your company. We were high from the ground and far from the streaming mountain-falls and elysium structures. There was only color. Color in the sky and color in the stones. All around us were blues and emeralds and pinks and reds and golds from a sunset erupting in magic. The bridge was primitive, raw and simple and pure. There was nothing to distract from the devastatingly spectacular world surrounding us.

"Well," Gandalf said, bringing my thoughts back to reality and our conversation. "Bofur must heal, of course."

"Why do you sound strained?" Bilbo said. I was thinking the same thing.

"It is a serious injury requiring serious care."

"Is there no Kingsfoil?" I asked, panicked.

Gandalf looked at me, surprised momentarily, then sighed. By then he must have decided it no use to ask about my knowledge. "There is...However the Elves have some doubts on it's reliability."

"What does that mean?" Bilbo asked.

"It means, Master Bilbo, that this is not a breed of Kingsfoil typically used for morgal poison. It is not the proper climate, and so the Elves are experimenting on creating a version that can grow in these lands. We have yet to see if they have been successful."

I felt a twinge of panic. Hell. What did this mean? That was not in the movies. Would Bofur heal? What would this change, what else would go wrong? None of it...None of it was supposed to happen. Dammit, I'm the cause of it. The Orcs kept their distance from us and relied on ranged archery instead of direct combat. I had been trying to figure out what caused this change in tactic. The only reasonable explanation was that something happened that made the Orcs cautious. They kept their distance until they could figure what they were up against. A company that killed two Cave Trolls in the dead of night was appropriate reason to be wary. This was all my fault. In the head of the moment I used my gun, when the day would have come just as soon, and I changed everything. And now Bofur might be in serious trouble. Hell freaking crap on a stick.

"How long until we know?" I asked.

"A day," Gandalf said. "Maybe two."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. That wasn't so bad. I had no idea how long our stay at Rivendell would last. It did make sense that Thorin would reveal his map tonight, however I've learned not to be so confident on time. If the Kingsfoil worked, Bofur would be up and walking soon.

"Do not celebrate yet," Gandalf warned.

~Lindir

I...Just...Damn. It was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

The Lost Bridge brought us straight over the stunning open drop to a circular stone platform; an entrance to Rivendell. My heart sank as I realized I might never walk the bridge again. It's path was lonely, surrounded by nothing but streams and shaded greens misted over far bellow, grey mountain on one far end and Rivendell on the other, and an astonishing expanse of sky high above the head. I rather thought The Lonely Bridge was a more suiting name, for when you walked it there was nothing but you and the heavens and depths of the Earth. The sun was long into it's setting, the clouds and skies painted in rich gold and heavy pinks. It was perhaps the most vibrant sky I had ever seen, and it pained me to think I might never see one of it's like again, at least from that view.

In contrast to the sunset, Rivendell was an archaic kingdom of faint colors. The stones and arches were cast in the sky's brilliant light. The walls glowed, radiated with a very pale amber aura, while the sky itself was a halcyon and blazing masterpiece. The gray bridge met with the grounds of Rivendell, and I felt a spike of excitement as I took my first step into The Last Homely House. The heels of my shoes tapped against the smooth stone surface of the platform, a tower mounted on a pillar of earth whose drop marked it's circular shape.

At the head, on either side of me, were two tall stone statues, soldiers, their spears or swords stuck in the ground before him. They looked onwards, past the Lost Bridge and at the mountains that guarded the side of Rivendell. I walked further, and together with Bilbo felt the need to stop and survey the view. Ahead, a silver staircase leading to ancient gothic buildings, some with high domes, others whose roofs pointed at the sky; all were adorned with arches or clerestory windows. No building was alike, it seemed, some silver, others marble and still more a bright brown. As the sun was low in the sky every tree and stone cast long shadows and were illuminated in golden light. Further beyond, Rivendell ended by a mountain's side, dripping a slow waterfall that matched the dozens of others around us. The outlook towards the open sky and expanse of silvan canyon filled me with awe and something stronger I couldn't name. I felt so overwhelmed my eyes began tearing again.

Two Elves, one clad in grand wine-purple robes and the other in soft gray, waited by the silver and straight staircase. I recognized the one in purple- Lindir, slender and soft. His dark brown hair shone in the golden sun, pulled back by a celtic silver circlet in the shape of weaving branches; it sunk into a point just above his eyebrows and designated him as a High Attendant to Lord Elrond. A silver brooch in an odd design not unlike a flower clasped the neckline of his rope just above the collar bone. The second Elf I didn't recognize. He too wore a circlet, but thinner and less defined as Lindir's. His hair was a fair brown, his face was of soft features, hardly eye-catching but elegant nonetheless. At the top two guards in glinting armor watched on silently, as still as the statues behind us. As we neared the stairs Lindir moved forwards, smiling kindly.

"Lindir, allow me to properly introduce Natasha Blinc of Brentbrook," Gandalf said, waving for me to come forward. Timidly I obliged, trying not to appear so...idolizing.

"It is a pleasure," Linder said, bowing his head. "You are just in time for the feast. However, if you prefer, I can show you to your room first. It appears your Company will be staying longer than expected."

I stared at him, speechless. You would think I would be used to talking with Elves by now...After the awkward "conversations" with Celegnir and Elrond. But no, because I'm a damn moron. Hehe. It's kind of funny actually, but, like, in a really pathetic way.

"Uh what?" I asked.

"Your room? Unless you prefer the courtyard, like your...friends," Lindir said.

"I'm kind of, um, I don't…want to waste your time," I said, super smoothly, the epitome of sophistication. Ah hell in a bucket. My lord I was such an awkward chicken butt.

"Time is not of the essence," Lindir said, giving a wry smile.

Gandalf chuckled. "Are the Dwarves giving you a hard time melon?"

Lindir checked behind his shoulder, and then, back to Gandalf, "they are very...loud."

"I imagine you don't get that a lot around here," Bilbo said, so annoyingly casual, like he wanders into Elven land every other day.

Lindir smiled again. "We do have our fair share of little nuisances." It was odd, because though he had that ethereal grace so devastatingly common with Elves, he seemed...A bit sarcastic? Is that a thing? Sarcastic Elves? Lindir? What was he even talking about?

Gandalf huffed again, amused. "Ah, yes, how old is he now?"

"Ten," Lindir answered.

"My, it has been a while," Gandalf said. "I do say I'm feeling a bit old."

I stared at the Wizard, confused. Ten? What? An Elf? Did...did ten-year-old Elves even exist? That was so weird to think about. Woah.

"My friend you have not aged a heartbeat. Time has been kind to you."

"So says the Elf," Gandalf laughed.

Lindir smiled. "But what will it be?" He asked me, turning from Gandalf.

"I do not know I am awful at at making life-decisions," I said in a rush.

"It has been some time since you have had a bed," Gandalf said.

"A room then?" Lindir asked.

I nodded, unsure, still a bit befuddled by everything. "Yea, um, yes."

"Very well," Lindir said, "although as the sun is setting ever lower I feel it best too bring you to our table first. Hopefully there is still food left, though with your Company I cannot be sure." He turned around and waved the Elf in gray forward. From afar I noticed nothing unusual about him, but up close I saw he had the brightest, richest green eyes I ever saw. It was startling, as his eyes were like jewels and Elven eyes were typically known to be gray. "Calemirdor can take your belongings then, if you do not mind, as he has matters to attend to in that direction already."

I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly. Over the days I had grown so used to it's weight, become so proective of it's contents, that parting with it felt uncomfortable. Besides, I felt it beyond weird to give my things to an Elf...This was Rivendell, not a hotel or something. I don't know but something felt weird about it. So I shook my head and smiled politely at the green-eyed Elf, Calem-something-or-other. "If it's all the same I rather keep it with me."

The gray-clad Elf nodded. "Very well." He then turned to Lindir. "Lye tela?"

Lindir nodded his head. "Tanya farnuva."

The green-eyed Elf turned and headed up the staircase. Then, Lindir smiled, and waved his hands in the same direction. "Follow me, then, Tula, vasa ar' yulna en i'mereth!"

(~AN: So in case you didn't read the AN above, which is more explanatory , I really want your input on this guys xD I want you to enjoy this, so, what will it be: Thranduil and all upcoming characters, or what's realistic for the story-line?

You would meet everyone with both options, but with the latter it would be a long time. ^.^ Dear readers! Let me know in whatever way you see fit ^.^ )

Translations:

Calemirdor ~ Green jewel

Lye tela ~ Am I finished

Tanya farnuva ~ That will suffice

Tula, vasa ar' yulna en i'mereth ~ Come, eat, and drink of the feast