Please enjoy, and review! Also, there's a Lion King reference in here, see if you can spot it! EDIT: There's a poll on my profile, please check it out! Thanks!
We squeezed through the narrow, winding pass. Sunlight lanced in from a hairline crack at the top of the cave. I could hear the dwarves grunting from around me as they struggled to force themselves past the boulders obscuring the way. After a few moments, Dwalin, who was ahead of me, called out. "There's light ahead!"
We finally emerged from the pass to the wonderful sight of a beautiful glade. Nestled in the heart of it was the elven fortress that went by several names. Imraldis it was called in the Elven-tongue, but it was more commonly known as Rivendell.
"Look how beautiful," I murmured. Warm breezes swept in from the west, blowing a whirl of green-gold leaves past. Thorin did not appreciate the wonder of the place, however.
"This was your plan all along," He accused Gandalf. "To seek refuge with our enemy!"
Gandalf gave Thorin a cold glare. "You have no enemies here, except the ill-will which you bring yourself."
Thorin tried another tack. "You think the elves will give this quest their blessing?" He shook his head. "They will try to stop us."
"Of course they will," replied Gandalf evenly. "But we have questions that need to be answered. Lord Elrond can help us." He looked out at Rivendell, then spoke again. "This must be handled with tact, respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why-" he aimed another pointed look at Thorin, "-you will leave the talking to me."
We climbed down a series of winding stairs to reach the bridge that spanned a gulley which speperated Rivendell from the rest of the world. We were greeted by a young (he seemed young anyway. You can never tell with elves), dark-haired elf. He turned to Gandalf and smiled warmly. "Mithrandir!"
"Lindir!" Called Gandalf cheerily. Behind him, the rest of the company grumbled quietly. The elf Lindir said something in elvish. "I must speak to Lord Elrond," insisted Gandalf.
"I'm sorry," replied Lindir apologetically. "Lord Elrond is not here."
"Well, where is he?" As if on cue, the sound of horns sang out from the forest. A party of elves on horseback appeared on the horizon, quickly drawing near. They made a fine sight, armor glinting in the sunlight and banners flung high in the breeze. Thorin shouted something in Khuzdul, which I instantly recognized as the call to arms. As we circled together, I gingerly maneuvered around my injured arm to rest a hand on the hilt of one of my throwing knives. But as I touched the cold steel of the handle, memories flooded me, unbidden. I recalled all too vividly the slaying of the orc on the plains of Eriador. My mind seemed to linger on the corpse lying on the ground, blood leaking out of the wound on its chest and staining the blade of my knife. Suddenly queasy, I let my hand fall away from the knife.
The elves were quickly upon us, circling us. One of them separated himself from the party and rode towards Gandalf, who stood apart from us. With an impossible-to-read look on his face, he greeted our wizard. "Gandalf."
Gandalf bowed gracefully. "Lord Elrond!" He transitioned into elvish, the two going back and forth about some unknown subject. Lord Elrond slid off his horse and hugged Gandalf. After a moment, the two parted and the elf lord began to tend to his armor. He cast a look at the Company as he spoke.
"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something must have drawn them near."
"Ahem." Gandalf cleared his throat. "That, err, may have been us."
Thorin seemed to tire of this chatter, for he stepped forward. It took all my restraint to not laugh at this dwarf next to Lord Elrond, who stood over six feet tall. Lord Elrond looked at Thorin, recognition dawning. "Welcome, Thorin son of Thrain."
"I don't believe we have met," replied Thorin coldly.
"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew him when he was King-under-the-mountain." Was that sadness?
"Indeed, yet he made no mention of you." I flinched at this insult, but Lord Elrond was still serene. He spoke in elvish instead, delivering a command to his elves.
"What's he saying? Does he offer us insult?" Demanded Gloin.
Gandalf rolled his eyes. "No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food."
The dwarves exchanged a few grumbles, before Gloin spoke up. "Well, in that case, lead on."
The dwarves followed, but I stopped at a tap on my shoulder. A young female elf stood behind me. "Not you." She gestured to my arm. "You need to get that looked at."
I sighed as I looked at the dwarves' retreating forms, no doubt headed to a feast of fantastic proportions. "Alright," I grumbled.
"Owch!"
"Hold still!"
"Eek!"
My arm felt like a thousand hot needles were being jabbed into it as the young elf inspected it. "I thought elves were supposed to be gentle and kind," I grumbled, then yelped as there was an unusually painful poke.
She rubbed a emerald-green salve on my arm, then quickly wrapped it in a linen sling. "There," she said. "Your arm is broken, and will take a few weeks to heal." She handed me a crystal dropper filled with the green healing salve. "If you use a drop of this each day, it should last you a good long while. Now go join your friends." She directed me to an outdoor pavilion where the dwarves all sat, but instead of feasting eagerly, they were all poking at the vegetables on their plates. The elf girl pressed her lips together, probably to keep from laughing at the looks of chagrin on their faces. She patted my shoulder and disappeared.
I almost laughed at the company. "Where's the meat?" Asked Dwalin.
Oin looked at a piece of cabbage he had speared with his knife. "Have they got any chips?"
Gandalf and Lord Elrond talked quietly in the background as I ate. The salads were refreshing after pack rations of stew, potatoes, and hard biscuits. And there wasn't only salad. The dwarves raised a clamper as several elves brought out flan and scones covered with cream and jam.
Lord Elrond was holding Thorin's sword. He examined it in reverent awe. "This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver. It was forged by my ancestors, the High Elves in Gondolin." He handed it back to Thorin. "May it serve you well." He then turned his attention to Gandalf's sword, sliding it several inches out of its sheath. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer. These swords were made for the goblin wars in the first age."
I saw Bilbo slide his dirk out of its sheath, contemplating it, but with a shake of his head, Balin said a few words that I couldn't hear, and Bilbo returned his weapon to its sheath.
"How did you come by these?" I heard Lord Elrond ask Gandalf.
"We found them in a troll hoard, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs on the Great East Road."
Lord Elrond considered the company. "And what in the world were you doing on the Great East Road?"
Silence. Thorin looked perturbed. "Excuse me," he said abruptly, rising from his chair and stalking out of the chamber.
It was a beautiful day, although I guessed it was always a beautiful day in Rivendell. I had taken the opportunity of wnadering alone through the beautiful elven world. Walking through the gardens, I sat down under a willow tree by a small pond and closed my eyes, letting the long leaves trail across my face and listening to the birds sing and the world breathe.
I didn't know he was there until he was right there. When I felt the silk of his long robe brush my bare arm, my eyes startled open and I saw Lord Elrond sitting next to me. "Not with your friends?" He asked.
A pang stabbed through my heart. "No," I replied, trying to make the situation feel less hurtful than it actually was to me. Shrugging, I added, "I don't think they like me very much. They won't miss me." I have no idea why I told him that, but there was the same something about him that was about Gandalf. I knew I could trust him.
"Indeed?" He leaned back, contemplating. "They despise you because you're a half-breed."
It wasn't a question. "Guess so."
"Yet some of the most powerful people in history were despised. It was an elf and human half-breed that ended the reign of the evil King Tendri of the North long ago."
I looked up. "Really?"
"Do you believe it?"
I smirked. "I heard it's not smart to come to elves because they pile questions upon questions." Lord Elrond looked down at me, a wise smile on his face. A lump formed in my throat, as I imagined Father right there. They had the same smile, the same warm air. I had the urge to hug the elf lord and cry my heart out. But I didn't.
Lord Elrond stood up and began to walk away. But he stopped, and turned back to look at me one last time. "Remember who you are."
RoyalBlueRoses: I'm definitely doing my best to add some side adventures. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
