I AM SO SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE! Between writer's block, medical issues, family issues, and holiday "stuff", I completely fell off the radar! BUT, I'm back! Thank you all for your INCREDIBLE patience! You all ROCK!
Twenty Minutes Earlier, House of Healing, Imladris… Lord Elrond furrowed his brow in befuddled confusion, why would Eldacar mention an event that, while unique in nature, was more than two ages past? All else aside, for where did he even come by such information? For it was rather unimportant in the current age. Elegath had departed to the Undying West after the final battle of the War of Wrath, and had faded into legend, and then unto myth; all of this occurring many millennia ago.
Eldacar cleared his throat for a second time, and Elrond was broken from his pensive thoughts and returned his attention to the Ranger.
"My Lord" began Eldacar, again and with a slight amount of noticeable unease, "may we speak in private, for the information that I have to share is rather… of a rather delicate nature."
Elrond made a wide, sweeping gesture with his right arm and Eldacar followed him in silence till the pair were in Lord Elrond's private study. Upon entering, Eldacar was met with the ever-daunting figure of Lord Glorfindel, and the seneschal of Imladris, Lindir. Eldacar straightened his posture slightly, for he did not relish the task of informing three of the Wise of Middle-Earth of this matter, and not merely Lord Elrond alone. Though of course, he would never dare to even think about questioning the judgement of Lord Elrond when it came as to who he chose to bring into his counsel.
Elrond had, by now, taken a seat behind his great desk, exquisitely carved of black-veined white marble by an ancient artisan of Eregion, their name now lost to the murk of time.
"Young Lord Eldacar" began Elrond, "you asked to share lore that you have uncovered in your travels, am I correct?"
Eldacar nods and was lucky enough to not show how much apprehension filled him with the task at hand.
"Then please proceed" confirmed Elrond, with a gracious wave of his hands.
"My lords," Eldacar began, "whilst chasing an Orc raiding party out of the Blue Mountains and into Forlindon, Lord's Amroth, Farin and I fell into an ancient tunnel beneath the shores of the sea, and we followed the servants of the Enemy for weeks, till we grew weak and weary with thirst and hunger. When we finally found ourselves under the open sky again, we were in such a pitiable condition that we fully expected to perish at the hands of Sauron's servants.
However, through a utterly unforeseeable series of events, we were rescued and found ourselves guests of a most gracious party of young lords and ladies. They had come to our aid when all hope had faded and saw to our healing whilst we were lost to the world.
Once we had awoken, we were informed that we were upon an island that these young folk had claimed for their own. After several events, implausible and fantastic as they may be, we found that these young peoples rode steeds of incredible power and skill, for these were naught horses, but Dragons; scions of the Drake Elegath…"
At this the entire atmosphere of the room shifted, from one of patience and propriety to one of worry and mild disbelief. It took as much courage as Eldacar could muster to finish his, albeit much abbreviated, story. Moments after the tale of which he spoke had ended, Eldacar was asked if he fully and truly believed that these creatures were the distant offspring of the Drake Elegath, and that these young people could genuinely be trusted. It was then that Eldacar informed the three Elven lords, with absolute certainty and conviction steadying his tone, that he would trust them, and this tale, with his life, should it come to that.
This informal council was silent for several minutes. Ultimately, Eldacar was asked to return to the side of his charge in the infirmary. His fears were, however, put to rest as he was assured that the group that now was likely upon the doorstep of Imladris would be allowed to enter unmolested. At least until the truth of their story could be confirmed.
At the Present Moment, in Imladris… The two groups of Free Peoples looked at each other for several quiet moments.
To be frank, Astrid would later duly note. The Dragon Riders felt rather… underwhelming, to say the least. As they stood before one of the greatest of the Wise. For they were surely in a sorry, bedraggled state. Each of them covered in blood, dirt, and the dust of the road.
Whilst, on the other hand, the three Elven Lords that they now stood before were each the image of magnificence, clothed in impeccably crafted fabrics and each bearing a demeanor that near put to shame the glowing aura that their features seemed to emanate.
So,Yes, Astrid thought, this was, for certain, not the way they had intended for this meeting to begin.
The long and uneasy silence was brought to a close with Lindir clearing his throat.
Then, one of the Elves, Astrid believed him to be the Lord of this Imladris, as he was the one who welcomed them, and had the look of somehow being the most important, began to speak. "If you are friends of Eldacar, then you shall not have cause to worry here. For the young master has told me of your tale, and I have given my word that you shall not be harmed as long as all you have told him is truth."
Astrid, Heather, Dagur, Fishlegs, Toothless, Amroth, Fareth, and Gondril all released sighs of relief. This was exactly what they were hoping to hear.
"Lord Eldacar is with your wounded friend. He is receiving the greatest care we can offer and should swiftly make a thorough recovery." commented Elrond placidly.
Again, Astrid released a breath of relief.
"Now I greatly wish to hear your tale, but upon looking at your weary faces I shall forestall such an event until the need presents itself. Though I cannot say if others of my house will show the same restraint to their inquisitiveness."
With that said, Fareth, Gondril, Amroth, and even Farin, bowed low in respect to the Elf-Lord, after a second's hesitation, the Riders, and Dragons, all followed suit.
Elrond spoke again, saying, "I shall now allow my friend and Seneschal, to escort any of you to where you desire in the vale. Though I do wish to confer now with Lord Amroth, and Ladies Fareth and Gondril."
It was at this point that the group dispersed. With most of the group going to the bathhouses in order to wash dirt and toil of the road from their bodies. The three aforementioned members of the company departed with Lord Elrond, and the Elf Lord Lindir led Astrid, Toothless, Heather, and Dagur towards the House of Healing.
Two Hours Later… Astrid was sitting now beside Hiccup, who could have been easily mistaken for one unharmed, if not for the occasional grimace and the dressings wrapped bout' his torso. Heather was sitting in a chair besides Astrid, between Hiccup's sickbed and that of her brother; Dagur laid unconscious, for it was naught but half-an-hour after he had departed that Lord Elrond returned, with the ladies Fareth and Gondril, and worked his healing upon the young man's throat.
Eldacar, and the aforementioned ladies Fareth and Gondril, were sitting in chairs upon the opposite side of Hiccup's bed from Astrid, and next to them was another of Elrond's close friends. He had introduced himself as one called Erestor, a scribe and illustrator of manuscripts, and he was quick to ask of the Dragon Riders tales, so that they may be recorded. It was clear that besides looking in on the young man who had nearly died helping to save them, this too was a reason of Fareth and Gondril's return.
That event itself had been almost an hour past, and the three Dragon Riders were enthusiastically retelling their adventures to the Elf-Lord.
Toothless, meanwhile, was dozing at the foot of Hiccup's cot, having nearly broken the bed's frame when he tried to encircle Hiccup. Much to the laughter of our friends, and the consternation of the healers.
Astrid's mind began to wander as she lost track of their story, which at present Hiccup was telling. She found it interesting that, even though Eldacar had told them that no messenger had come to tell the Elves of the Halls of Healing that the Dragons were friends of the Free Peoples, as Eldacar termed it, that they seemed to almost instinctively know that they were not to be a threat.
Astrid was brought out of her musings when she heard Hiccup say, "… Screaming Death, it was so large that it actually ate several of the smaller islands near our home."
So, confirmed Astrid, we're at the Screaming Death now.
The scribe Erestor seemed enthralled by the tale being woven before him, and was quietly recording all that was said with quill and ink so that it may be bound into a tome and placed in the great library till even Imladris was no more.
Ladies Fareth and Gondril too, were listening with rapt attention. Even Eldacar, whom had already heard this story before, had his attention roused.
The, rather festive and energetic, mood of the small group was interrupted with the gentle clearing of a throat not from those thus already mentioned. This caused the whole of the group to look up at the break in the momentum of the story.
It was one of the Elven Healers, a rather matronly she-elf whom had introduced herself as Idril, and that she would be the primary patron of Hiccup's recovery.
"Young master" she began, "I must merely check your dressings"
Hiccup wordlessly raised his arms so that the cloth bindings could be unwound, and Idril did unwind them with gentle care that spoke of lifetimes of experience. As this was the first changing of his dressings since Astrid and Heather's arrival, as Dagur was still unconscious and unaware, the two young ladies bent over to see what kind of damage that that vile Troll had wreaked.
Much to Astrid and Heather's surprise, the wound was neither large nor deep. Truly, it looked like a wound that should have not produced the damage it had.
Endeavoring to discover the truth of this enigma, Astrid and Heather turned towards Idril.
"Um, lady Idril" began Astrid, at which the kind face of the healer turned towards her, "was Hiccup's injury infected or something? I mean, it's just that it doesn't look very serious, now."
The lady smiled and said cryptically, "Such is the power of the Eldar" just before finishing re-tying Hiccup's bandages and, with a kind nod, moving on to other duties.
Astrid and Heather were confused, to say the least, and such was the expression borne on their faces when turned towards Eldacar. Who gave a knowing chuckle and then said, "The Elves possess many powers of this world, and much that cannot be known to the younger folk. To them, most simply call this 'magic'."
Under any circumstances prior to the encounter in the Barrow Downs over a week ago, Astrid would have scoffed or at least been immensely skeptical of such a claim. But, remembering those foul walking animations of bone with a shudder, she, and all of the Dragon-Riders for that matter, could be said to have a broader view of what was possible and what is not.
Astrid let the matter drop, and simply noted to ask about it some-other time.
Within another two-minutes the story that the Dragon-Riders had been weaving had resumed its tempo as their attention fell back to the task at hand.