"I don't like this," Thorin insisted.
"Why?" asked Bilbo.
"Because Gandalf has asked you to bring the girls. He specifically said for them to be there. What reasons can he have for that?"
Bilbo sighed, not slowing his pace down the corridors of their palace in Erebor. "Who knows," he commented. "I doubt we shall ever know the reasons Gandalf has for what he does."
Thorin scowled beside him. "I still don't like it. And neither does Dis." He gave his husband a triumphant look, as though that settled everything.
Bilbo rolled his eyes. "You know, Dis is wrong occasionally. We'll be fine. Besides, even if Gandalf hadn't said to bring the girls, I still would have. It's been nearly twenty years since they have visited their family west of the Misty Mountains; it is about time they do so again."
Thorin harrumphed, but otherwise scowled ahead of them as they walked.
The two soon reached the throne room, where the rest of the travelling company were already waiting for them. Tauriel and Kili were saying goodbye off to the side, Tauriel wiping tears off ten year old Vili's face and smoothing back two year old Cúiel's hair, who was balanced on her hip. Thorin knew both children had been yearning to make the trip with their mother, but they were still too young. Mithril and Minriel were sitting in Bilbo and Thorin's thrones, checking that the laces to their boots were securely tied. Mithril's boots reached only to her knees, whereas Minriel's boots stretched halfway up her thighs. They had been crafted specifically for her, as Bilbo had feared her catching an illness in the cold mountain. Minriel had assured him that her elven blood allowed her extended durability to the cold, yet she wore the fur lined boots constantly. As he watched, he noticed her poke a finger inside her right boot, checking to make sure her small dagger was present.
Even Gimli was there, strapping several axes to his back and waist. He had decided to join the company as one of the guards. An idea the girls had found quite amusing, and Thorin cringed internally at the torture the dwarf would be enduring at their hands while on the road.
As Bilbo and Thorin entered the throne room the girls ran up to them, and each hugged Thorin goodbye. As they stepped back, Thorin noticed their eyes taking note of the sword on his back and the package in his hands, and he smiled softly.
"Are you coming, Papa?" asked Mithril.
Thorin shook his head. "I cannot," he told her. "However, I have a gift for you both."
He handed the package over to Minriel, and gingerly she unwrapped it. In her hands sat a quiver of arrows, accompanied by a long, slender bow carved from a yew tree.
"I used the best wood I could find," Thorin told her. "And Kili and Tauriel have both checked over my craftsmanship. It should be more suited to your size than Kili's bow. I hope you have no need of it though."
Minriel's eyes were wet as she slung the quiver over her back. "I hope so too," she told him. "All the same, thank you Uncle."
Thorin nodded and wrapped her in a hug. When his niece finally stepped away he turned to Mithril, enjoying the way her hazel eyes watched him, burning with curiosity. With a small smile he reached up, pulling Orcrist from his back and handing it, sheath and all, to his daughter.
Mithril gasped. "Papa, I couldn't," she whispered.
Thorin smiled softly. "I saw you eyeing it in Mirkwood," he told her. "I have little need for it now. May it serve you well, though I hope you never need its services."
Mithril gulped, and with shaking hands she accepted her father's sword.
"Thank you Papa," she whispered. Hesitantly she drew the sword halfway from its sheath, and then sheathed it again and swung the sword around her shoulder so that it sat on her back the way a quiver might. She shrugged her shoulders, settling the sword into a more comfortable position, and reached up to make sure she could easily reach the blade. Somehow the hilt was in the perfect spot for her to grasp, and as she wrapped her hand around it she noted that it fit into her palm perfectly.
Thorin drew his daughter into a crushing hug, burying his face into her curls. When he pulled away he cleared his throat harshly, stepping back.
"Are you both ready?" he asked.
The girls nodded, and Thorin nodded and stepped further away. He always hated saying goodbye to his family whenever they left on their trips; he always feared that they would not return.
From beside him Bilbo sighed. "Do not worry," his hobbit soothed him. "We will be fine."
Thorin made no comment; he simply pulled Bilbo to him in a soft kiss. As they pulled apart he gave a sigh, squeezing Bilbo's hand once.
"I shall see you soon," he stated.
Bilbo nodded. "And once I've returned, I'll not leave the mountain again for the rest of our lives."
Thorin laughed. "I shall hold you to that, burglar."
Bilbo chuckled, then leaned forward to press a last kiss to his husband's lips.
"Goodbye Thorin," he said. Then, before either could break down, the hobbit started for the doors, and the rest of the company followed him. Thorin leaned in the doorway of the castle as he watched them go, ignoring the heavy feeling settling in his stomach.
Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were standing on a stone outcropping. It had once been a place of importance, with stone columns reaching towards the sky. Now it was merely a ruin.
Minriel paid no attention to this, though she did feel a tinge of sadness at the fact in her mind. She was too busy focusing on the swords her cousins held in trembling hands, and on the nine figures slowly drifting out of the shadows towards them.
Minriel's blood chilled as she saw them. Figures cloaked in black, they carried wicked looking swords and moved with an ethereal quality that surpassed even the elves. The hobbits trapped within the circle of the deadly fighters put themselves back to back, watching the shadow-like creatures advance.
It was Sam who made the first move. "Back you devils!" he screamed. With that he charged forward, swinging his small sword, and the figure he had attacked easily sidestepped.
Minriel watched as Merry and Pippin each attempted something of the same. Frodo slipped backwards, edging away from the creatures as his hand drifted down to his pocket. Then Minriel saw a flash of gold, and Frodo vanished.
The next she knew of him was his scream as one of the creatures stabbed downwards with its sword, and there was a spurt of vivid red that could only be blood.
"Min!"
Minriel jerked upright with Mithril's hand on her arm, panting. Her cousin was staring at her in wide eyed concern, curls sticking up in different directions from having been slept on.
"What was that?" asked Mithril.
Minriel bit her lip, knowing that in the dark room Mithril couldn't see. "Nothing," she managed. "Just a dream."
Mithril nodded slowly, unconvinced. Still she returned to her bed, and Minriel shifted so that she was laying on her side as she thought.
She had no idea what she had just seen. So many questions were swirling through her mind. Where were her cousins? What were those creatures? When did the scene happen? And, most importantly, was Frodo alright? Minriel barely held back a shudder at the thought of her little cousin lying dead out in the wilderness, and again she bit her lip to keep from crying.
Dawn found her still worrying over her vision, and she rose quietly from her bed and slipped to the balcony outside, letting Mithril sleep in. There she looked out over Rivendell, observing the city as it woke.
"Girls, are you up?"
Minriel turned as her mother padded into their room, chuckling as Mithril emitted a groan from her bed.
"I am now," grumbled the quarterling.
Minriel chuckled and hopped onto Mithril's bed, bouncing up and down. "Come on Mith! Get up! Get up, get up, get-"
Minriel's chanting was interrupted as her cousin kicked her off the bed, and with a small yelp she tumbled to the floor. She laughed and leapt to her feet, noting how Mithril was now smiling as she rolled out of bed.
Seeing her cousin's curls reminded her of Frodo and her vision, but Minriel pushed it out of her mind. She had long since learned that there was little she could do about her visions; this time was no different. She would simply wait and see how things played out.
However, she also knew she needed to keep up appearances. Knowing her cousin would suspect something was amiss should Minriel so much as frown, the girl plastered a wide grin on her face and grabbed Mithril's hand, keeping up her foolish façade that she had grown so adept at over the years.
"I'm hungry," she whined.
Arwen chuckled and grabbed her daughter, spinning her in a circle.
"Then let us get some breakfast," she sang.
Minriel and Mithril nodded, following the elf to the dining hall.
The morning progressed slower than usual. The girls were kept busy with various activities, yet Minriel felt her mind constantly drifting back to her vision. She had experienced many over the years, yet they rarely concerned someone she knew and loved. The knowledge of who the subject was disconcerted her, causing her heart to pound anxiously in her chest.
"Alright," asked Gimli finally. "What is wrong with you?"
Minriel glanced over at her cousin sharply. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Gimli rolled his eyes. "I mean you've been acting strange all day," he told her. "Is it that pointy eared giant?" He gestured with his chin to a blond elf conversing with Tauriel, and Minriel followed his gaze.
"Yes," she lied. "I feel that I've seen him before, but I don't know where."
"Mirkwood," supplied Mithril. She took a seat on the steps of Lord Elrond's house beside Minriel, her gaze joining her cousin's. "We saw him in Mirkwood several months ago. He arrived at the same time as Gandalf, and they left together."
Minriel nodded. In truth, she did vaguely remember seeing the elf before, and though she knew that it had been in Thranduil's palace, she had never caught the name of the elf who slinked silently from shadow to shadow.
"What is his name?" she asked.
As though hearing their conversation, the elf approached on silent feet. Gracefully he bowed, blond hair blowing in the breeze.
"Ladies Minriel and Mithril," he greeted them. "I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil. It is an honor to finally meet you; my father speaks highly of you both."
Mithril and Minriel exchanged shocked looks.
"You're Legolas?" asked Minriel. "But you're- you're- where are your eyebrows?"
Legolas's eyebrows, distinctly disappointing in comparison to his father's, rose up. On one side of Minriel, Mithril chuckled, while on her other side Gimli groaned and let his head fall into his hands.
"My eyebrows?" he asked, utterly perplexed.
Minriel nodded. "Thrandy has such great eyebrows," she told him. "We dyed them purple one time."
Legolas's eyes looked like they were about to bug out of his head. "You did what now?" he asked.
"The great prank war of the eastern lands," Mithril supplied. "Surely you've heard of it."
Legolas shook his head. "I can't say I have."
"How tall are you?" asked Mithril. When Legolas raised an eyebrow questioningly she continued. "I've been trying to convince this one," Mithril jabbed her thumb at Minriel, "that she is simply too tall, even for one of the race of Man or an elf. It simply isn't natural to be that tall."
Legolas chuckled. "I am six foot two," he supplied.
"Ha!" Minriel leapt up and did a little dance on the steps of the house. "I told you! You're just short!"
Mithril scowled. "You're a lanky, klutzy giant," she snapped.
"And you're a stubborn, grumpy midget," responded Minriel.
Mithril leapt to her feet, and before Legolas could so much as blink the two had run off, chasing each other through Rivendell. They ended up in the gardens, darting among the trees and leaping over the river that trickled merrily by. As they neared the top of a hill Minriel spun to meet Mithril, and her cousin barreled right into her. Together they rolled down the slope, coming to a stop at Lord Elrond's feet.
The elf shook his head as he exchanged glances with Bilbo. "And this is what my bloodline has come to," he mused. Still, there was a playful twinkle in his eyes as he switched his gaze back and forth between the two girls, and they were unabashed as they straightened again, brushing grass from their clothes.
Suddenly Elrond wavered where he stood, and he squeezed his eyes shut as a dark feeling overwhelmed him. The feeling surged from beyond the gates of Rivendell, originating in the lands beyond. As the wave of dark energy shuddered to a halt Elrond opened his eyes, a sense of urgency in him that he had not felt in many years.
"There is something approaching," he said quietly. "Something dark."
Minriel's face paled. "Mother isn't in the city," she cried. The elf had departed just after breakfast, a cheery smile on her face. Somehow she had known that her husband was approaching, and Minriel suspected that her mother had received a vision of the man.
Elrond's eyes widened, and together the four bolted for the barracks. Elrond and Minriel skidded to a stop as their keen ears picked up the thundering of hooves through the streets, and they rapidly changed course. Instead of making for the barracks and stables they cut through the lord's house, emerging on the steps as Arwen's horse drew to a stop. The girls immediately recognized the small body the elf carried, and Minriel was fairly certain that all of Rivendell heard Mithril scream.
"Frodo!"
Elrond paused at the door, somewhat reluctant to open it. He knew there would be a barrage of questions awaiting him, and wearied from using his magic to heal Frodo, the lord of Rivendell really was not in the mood for the worrying of hobbits.
He sighed though, and with a well-hidden cringe, opened the door. Immediately two faces popped into view, father and daughter wearing matching looks of concern.
"How is Frodo?" asked Bilbo.
"How is he? Can I see him?" Mithril asked at the same time. The girl's face was pale, her eyes wide in panic.
Elrond sighed. "Frodo is asleep," he told them. "He was wounded by a Morgul blade; I was hard pressed to return him to the world of light."
Bilbo frowned. "Morgul blade? Like the one-"
Elrond nodded. "Like the one Radagast the Brown gave to Gandalf just before you journeyed to Rivendell for the first time," he confirmed. He turned to Mithril, knowing she would be lacking in tales of dark magic. "The blades were wielded by nine kings of Middle Earth," he told her. "Mortal men doomed to die. Due to a gift by the dark lord Sauron, their souls were trapped here, becoming dark forces loyal only to him. Today they are called ring wraiths or Nazgûl."
Mithril nodded, her face paling. "Uncle Balin taught me about those," she told him. She thought back, and her eyes widened further. "Is Frodo going to turn into one of them now?"
"No."
Minriel came up behind her grandfather, wiping her hands clean on a towel. "We were able to save him. He'll be alright Mith."
Mithril nodded. Her cousin had been the first to react to Frodo's half dead appearance in Rivendell, quickly taking him from her mother's arms. Mithril had then rushed forward, and Minriel had allowed her only half a moment to sob over him before she and Elrond had rushed him inside. They had then locked themselves in one of the rooms of Elrond's house with him, and between both their healing touches, they were confident that Frodo would recover from his injury.
Elrond sighed. "You may see him," he allowed. "But do not attempt to wake him. If you might excuse me." With that he slipped past Bilbo and Mithril, moving silently down the hall.
"Sir!" Elrond turned as Lindir came trotting up behind him, and the elf resisted a scowl. Couldn't official matters wait a minute? He needed a rest.
Lindir skidded to a stop. "Sir, there are three hobbits waiting for you in your office. They arrived shortly after Frodo."
Elrond nodded. "Are they harmed?" he asked.
Lindir shook his head. "No, but they are worried for their companion."
Elrond nodded. Based on the stories he had heard from the girls, he knew already who the three hobbits were. Sure enough, when he entered his study he found none other than Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Samwise Gamgee waiting for him.
"Is Frodo alright?" asked Sam.
Elrond sat behind his desk with a sigh, nodding. "He will live," he promised. "He is resting now."
He watched as the shoulders of all three hobbits relaxed.
"What befell you on the road?" asked Elrond.
It was Merry who took him through the story, and none of the three tired hobbits noticed how Elrond's eyes widened at the mention of Strider.
"Where is Strider now?" asked Elrond.
"He refused to enter Rivendell," Pippin told him. "He said he wasn't allowed, and he wouldn't even set foot on the bridge."
Elrond closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to let flow a stream of curses.
"Thank you gentlemen," he said. "You are welcome in my home; I shall have you shown to rooms. Once you have rested you may visit Frodo. That is of course, if Mithril and Minriel let anyone else in."
At his words the hobbits' faces brightened considerably, and Elrond allowed himself a small smile as he left the study. He sighed then, and started for the bridge to Rivendell.
"Aragorn!" he shouted. He crossed the bridge with sure, swift strides, eyes scanning about. "Aragorn, show yourself now!"
It took several moments, but at last Aragorn revealed himself, stepping from the shade of several trees. Elrond studied him in the morning light, the man who he had not seen in so long. He looked much the same, a bit wearier perhaps, and with several new scars, but that was still Aragorn. Elrond fought back the pang the sight of the man caused his heart.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
"I am banished," Aragorn reminded him. "I cannot cross into the city."
Elrond muttered several curses. "Under these circumstances, that does not apply," he stated. "Get inside the city before the ring wraiths show up."
Aragorn shook his head. "I will not disobey your banishment," he swore.
"Then I unbanish you," Elrond snapped. "Now get inside the city."
Aragorn considered, and then shook his head. "That is not a good reason to unbanish a person," he scolded. "I am not truly welcome, therefore I will not come."
Elrond ground his teeth. What was it with this man's stubbornness? Then he sighed, trying the one thing he really should have thought of from the beginning.
"Minriel and Mithril are-"
He was cut off as Aragorn bolted by him, having guessed how his words ended. Something, they were both sure, along the lines of the two girls leaving the safety of the city to force Aragorn inside. Within moments the man had disappeared among the houses of Rivendell, and Elrond blinked in surprise.
Well that worked, he thought. Still, it was a heavy heart that he followed Aragorn into Rivendell.