Don't own the hobbit. Thank you everyone for your reviews, especially the encouragement from Narsil and Nimrodel. I really do appreciate it.
The Council was going poorly. Saruman was pontificating, Galadriel was thrumming with the (well hidden) tension of a coiled spring while alternating her gaze between Gandalf and Elrond, and both of them were trying to focus on the importance of Radagast's news while desperately avoiding any mention of a young elf dragon child. They were grateful when Lindir came to report their guests had departed.
Elrond gave him a discreet nod of approval for his wording. Saruman was angry, and left shortly after that to return to his tower in a huff. Galadriel watched him leave with a serene expression. As soon as he was far enough that he wouldn't hear anything, she turned and pinned the other two with a weighty, piercing Look.
As they strove not to duck their heads like errant schoolboys, Lindir demonstrated the reason he was held in such high esteem by his Lord, and considered one of the most courageous elves east of the Sea.
He stepped forward, bringing himself back into the Lady's attention and drawing her gaze from his Lord. He held out his hands, giving the rather large package and rather short note to Elrond. Feeling the weight of the package with some trepidation, Elrond turned to the note.
As he started to read it, the line between his eyebrows deepened as he struggled not to scowl. Giving Gandalf a meaningful look, he turned to make his excuses to leave...the Look he'd gotten before was nothing on the one he was getting now. With a sigh, he gave in. He knew it was a pointless endeavor to try to keep this from the Lady of the Golden Wood.
He gallantly offered his arm, then waved Gandalf ahead of them as she took it with a satisfied expression.
"Shall we adjourn to my study? I feel we have quite a bit to catch up on."
He mentally sighed as he noticed the light starting to come in. No rest for the weary. Still, he was most gracious as he once more settled guests into the comfortable chairs before his desk.
"If you could catch up our Lady on the recent happenings, Gandalf, I shall share what news I have after."
As he placed the package on his desk and turned once again to the note in his hands, Galadriel and Gandalf locked gazes. As he continued to read, he started to choke, and had to quickly reach for a glass of water. As his guests gazes turned back to him, he ignored them as his eyes continued to flick ever faster across the page.
After reading it through a second time, he let himself fall back into his chair with yet another sigh. After allowing himself a moment to curse his sense of responsibility as he had not in years, he turned back to the others.
"Have you finished catching our Lady up, Gandalf?"
"Indeed. Now what has troubled you so, my friend? Has she gone on, then?"
Elrond sighed, turning to Galadriel. If he didn't know her so well, he would have thought she was as serene and unflustered as ever. He did know better, however. In fact, he'd never seen her so shocked. She wasn't even trying to pick his brain to find out what he'd learned yet.
Which meant she'd be as surprised as Gandalf, perhaps more so if Luin had shared more with him than she had with the rest of them earlier. He sighed, agitated. No point in putting it off longer.
"Luin has left with Bilbo. Apparently they missed the dwarves, and are determined to catch up on their own. I don't doubt they will have traveled...swiftly. She has left me a task, however, if I am amenable."
He opened the package in one graceful movement, uncovering the Book. Galadriel leaned forward, running one delicate finger over the binding in awe as if she hadn't quite believed it to be real. He ignored this, and continued to speak.
"She wants me to share this with her father, and try to convince him not to hate her. I feel she has reached her current limit of waiting in terror for others responses to her news."
He felt a small, wry smile twist his lips.
"I am apparently eminently qualified to do this, as I will obviously know her father better than she and am unlikely to be attacked. At least, that is what I can surmise from the tone of her missive. She has, however left one thing out. I do not know who her father actually is."
He looked knowingly at Gandalf.
"Any guesses?"
Gandalf felt his eyes start to twinkle once again as he replied.
"I do believe the answer to that question is in that admirable Book in front of you. One of the last pages. I'm sure you can find it."
He settled back, bringing out his pipe to relax and enjoy the show. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved that Luin was continuing with the dwarves. On the one hand, he wanted her as safe as anyone else did. On the other hand, he had faith that she would be a great help to the dwarves, and possibly even learn a great deal from the experience. He should probably leave soon if he wanted to catch the Company in good time.
Of course, watching his companions faces as they learned her father's identity should be very amusing. He suddenly choked on his pipe as a dreadful thought occurred to him. Her father, while usually fairly easy going, was unlikely to be very happy when he discovered that his underage daughter was traipsing about the dangerous wilds with a large group of mostly unattached dwarves.
That unhappiness was likely to double if faced with the wizard that was rather responsible for said wandering...in fact if he wanted to keep his body parts attached to himself he should probably do his best to put enough distance between them that the elf would have a great deal of time to calm down before he caught him. He stood abruptly.
"Well, I really must be going if I'm to catch them up and keep them safe. Please excuse me!"
Galadriel looked unimpressed with his reasoning. He'd kept the identity of her father a secret that even she couldn't ferret out of him, but he was radiating fear at the thought of him. She knew exactly why he was leaving. Still, she knew that there was a great deal going on in middle earth at this time, and she couldn't let him leave without a reassurance.
"Mithrandir."
As he turned back a little guiltily, she gave him a stern, yet amused look.
"If you should ever need my help, I will come."
He bowed gratefully, and left after giving her a warm look of thanks. She turned back to Elrond, waiting. As he slowly turned the pages, she focused her thoughts on all the many shocking things she had learned this night. It had been the most eventful Council she had attended in centuries.
Darkness gathered in the shadows. News of orcs and trolls being more active than they'd been for an age. A necromancer connected to the Witch King being discovered. The Greenwood being poisoned. Dwarves embarking on a dangerous quest that might rid the world of a great threat, or see it loosed from it's self-imposed bonds. And finally a ray of light in all this darkness: a young girl with the potential to be one of the greatest of defenses for the Races when she came into her own.
She hoped that the Enemy stayed unaware of her, for now. She still needed time to learn and grow. She wished she had stayed in Rivendell, but couldn't blame her for following her friends and family. She herself had done something similar when she was young.
She was pulled out of her thoughts as Elrond fell back in his chair and started cursing. She was rather startled, as the cursing got more and more inventive and started spanning every language he knew. As he did not seem ready to slow down anytime soon, she cut him off.
"Elrond! What is the matter?!"
She hadn't spoken so sharply in years. It apparently got through to him, and he flushed to the tips of his ears.
"I must apologize for my language, my Lady. I just found out what we wanted to know. It couldn't really be worse news."
She simply stared at him, waiting. He seemed to slump a little, and sighed. His next words shocked her to her marrow.
"Glorfindel. It's Glorfindel."
Galadriel felt her thoughts racing faster than they had in an Age. Elrond was right. This was the worst possible news in these circumstances.
First they would have to convince him that his beloved wife was a Dragon, a creature belonging to the Race he had hated above all others for Ages. Then they'd have to break the news that he had a child, also a Dragon. While somehow making him listen long enough to understand that both had not been and were not evil.
To top that off, they had confirmation that said wife was truly dead. She knew he held out a very faint hope even now for he had never found a body and she hadn't been there to greet him in Valinor.
If he could somehow recover from all of those blows, he would want to meet his daughter...that was currently traipsing about the wilds with a large group of mostly single male dwarves. While being underage. Oh, Valar. They would be lucky if middle earth survived this.
She cast a glance at her companion, who had apparently decided to breach his stash of elvish wines. He seemed rather determined to forget the information he had just discovered. If it wasn't for the fact it would be incredibly cruel and possibly disastrous, she would head back to Lothlorien and let him deal with it.
His sons and Glorfindel were due back in three days. They only had that long before they would have to tell him. She reached across the desk and stole the decanter for herself. After taking a long drink, she looked back at the shocked Elrond.
"It has been a long night. Drinking ourselves into a stupor will not help us to come up with a plan or give us the courage to implement it. Let us go to bed and come back to this tomorrow. Perhaps we can find some help in that rather remarkable Book."
He nodded with a great sigh.
"An excellent idea. Thank you, my Lady."
As she settled in her bed to rest, Galadriel did her best to calm her thoughts. This would be difficult, but not impossible. Now if only she could convince herself of that.