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Cirdan pulled his chair closer. "Tell me," he said. "What have you found that has brought the light back into your eyes?"
"This," Tauriel answered, gesturing to the worn book in front of her. "Calenor was somewhat dubious of both its provenance and veracity but . . ." Her fingers unconsciously brushed over the ancient tome.
"But what?"
"I doubt it is truly Finrod's work," Tauriel said, her attention back on open pages in front of her. "It may be as Calenor said—that someone mimicked his style and turn of phrase to enhance their own work." She tapped her finger on the book. "But isn't it possible that Finrod shared his thoughts and ideas on the matter of Dwarves with others, much as he did his suppositions regarding Men?"
Cirdan nodded. "It is. He was not one to keep his philosophy or opinions to himself."
"He was close with the Dwarves, perhaps closer than any other at that time," she continued.
"Save Celebrimbor, but that came later," Cirdan noted. "And Celebrimbor was not known for his philosophical leanings."
Cirdan pulled the book towards his side of the table. "So what does Finrod say?"
"He reiterates the fact that we are tied to the fate of the world. And that Men are not so bound—that they may pass beyond the Circles of the World. But we are to be reunited for the Dagor Dagorath and the breaking of the world."
"That is what has been foretold," Cirdan said. "That Fëanor will be released from the Halls of Mandos and that this time he will break the Silmarils to rekindle the Light of the Trees. And Turin will return to end Morgoth for all time." Cirdan frowned. "But what comes after is less clear. For if we are tied to this world and it is broken, what then is our fate?" He narrowed his eyes. "It never made sense to Finrod—I do remember that—the idea that we would all return for that final battle, have the complete destruction of Morgoth finally attained and then have the world just end and us with it." He shook his head. "That scenario never satisfied Finrod. He couldn't believe in that."
Tauriel nodded. "That is in here," she said. "That at the Breaking of the World it will be remade. Not newly formed but remade. The Children of Iluvatar—both the Firstborn and the Secondborn—will be reunited in this new World."
"It is a pleasant fancy," Cirdan said, holding up a hand at her protestations. "I do not mock it, Tauriel. Trust me, it seems poor form to me to win the final battle, rekindle the Light of the Trees and then simply snuff out the Firstborn." He shook his head. "I cannot see Iluvatar doing that. We will be as tied to the world remade perhaps as we were to it originally. It is my hope it is without the discord that ran through the original Music of Eä." His brows drew together. "This is all well and good, Tauriel. But where do your Dwarves come in, other than to assist Aulë in shaping this new World from the fractured shards of the old one?"
"That is the point," Tauriel said, taking the book back from Cirdan and searching for the correct passage. "The Dwarves do not go beyond the Circles of the World. They stay, like we do. They stay in the Halls of Mahal until Aulë rouses them. It is not unlike Mandos' Halls, Cirdan. According to this text they stay—that means they are tied to this world, as we are. That they too will be reborn. Reborn to reconstruct the World and dwell in the beauty they have created, unmarred and untouched by evil. At our sides."
"We know this, Tauriel. We know this task is appointed to Aulë and the Dwarves will assist him in his labours. How does this have relevance to your situation?"
She ran her finger over the passage she had found, skimming it to find the reference she had stumbled upon. "Here," she said. "'The Halls of Mandos will empty of all who wish to join the final battle and Men shall return to meet them as comrades on that field of War. But the Children of Aulë will remain in their Master's Halls until their task is complete. '" Her eyes were shining as she looked at Cirdan.
"What are you saying, Tauriel?"
"I am saying they will awaken before the final battle. They will be forging the weapons of that war, for the innumerable warriors who will set their might against the darkness." She stabbed the tome with her finger. "They will be returned long before the end of the World. They could be awake even now, Cirdan, to accomplish this great feat."
Cirdan blinked. "You mean that, according to this, they do not awaken after the battle but before?"
"Yes," Tauriel grinned. "It's in the next passage: They will forge weapons in the vastness of Aulë's forges before the final conflict. Weapons to arm the multitudes who Return. And only when that task is complete will the Halls of Aulë empty and his Children join the fight against their ancient Enemy.'" She leaned towards Cirdan. "They awake long before, to prepare and then they stay. To shape the world anew and live amongst us again." She looked down. "At least that is what Finrod writes, what he says he understood from the Dwarves themselves, the ones he hosted for so many years in Nargothrond."
She gripped the edge of the table. "Cirdan, if this is true then if I can get to Mahal's Halls I may be able to find him, even now."
It did not seem so far-fetched, if Cirdan truly thought about it. He knew how long it took to forge weapons—to mine the ore, to form the blades, the spears, the shields, the helms, the armor for a battle of this magnitutde. The weapons and the skills to forge them that had come to Arda with the sons of Fëanor had been unparalleled. But forging with such skill was not something that could be done quickly. Even the highly skilled craftsmen of Nogrod and Belegost had been pressed to keep up with the demand in the First Age and they were fewer in number then.
Arming themselves would be an enormous undertaking for the Dwarves. Arming the combined hosts of all the Children of Iluvatar was an immense task.
"We don't know when the battle will be joined," Cirdan said slowly. "We will only know when it is upon us, I fear."
"Which means it could be tomorrow, a hundred years from now or an Age away," Tauriel replied. "But if it is coming, if it is upon us, he will be there. Kili will be there."
"And if it is an Age away? What then, Tauriel?"
She closed the book and looked at Cirdan, determination visible in the set of her jaw. "Then I wait, Cirdan. I wait."