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"Where is Gandalf?"
"He has abandoned us!"
'Impossible. Gandalf would not leave us at a time like this ... would he?'
"Over here! Quickly!"
Marie felt a brief sense of relief as she heard Gandalf's voice, but where did it come from? Marie looked all around until she spotted the point of his large hat rise up from behind a boulder. "In here!" Gandalf disappeared again. There must have been a hole in the rock, which meant a possible escape. Taking no chances, the dwarves and Marie made for the hole.
Bifur, Bombur and Nori were the first to climb into the hole, which was actually the opening to a cavern large enough for Gandalf to stand up in. Dori and Ori tumbled in together and were followed by Balin, Bofur and Fili.
"Quickly!" Thorin yelled at the remaining companions as he stood by the hole ready to fend off any attacks, holding both his elvish blade and battle axe firmly in his hands. Gloin and Oin reached the hole together, Dwalin and Marie close behind.
"Move lass!" Dwalin pushed her in first.
"Kili!" Thorin shouted for his nephew, who was lingering above to shoot at the orcs. He only pulled back when his supply of arrows was extremely low. Thorin and Kili slid down into the throng of dwarves packed tightly together. Marie had squeezed her way over to Gandalf and clutched at his robe. Her glowing sword visibly shaking as she held it up weakly.
The snarls and incoherent voices of the orcs drew closer to the opening but were over shadowed by the sound of a horn blaring in the distance, accompanied by a horse's whinny and the hiss of arrows flying. The dwarves looked at one another with confusion and surprise as a small battle raged above.
There was a horrible screech and a black body fell into the hole with an arrow in its chest. The dwarves parted as the carcass hit the clod stone floor, black blood pooling around it. Once it had ceased to breathe Thorin pulled out the arrow and inspected the blood soaked tip. "Elves." He snarled and tossed the arrow aside.
"What now?" Dori piped up from the back, "Do we go back up?"
"Wait." Dwalin moved Dori aside and found a narrow opening at the back of the cavern. "I can't see where the path leads. Do we follow it or not?" Dwalin shouted as he inspected it.
"Follow it of course!" Bofur answered and pushed his brother along. A collective grunt of agreement echoed in the cavern, even Gandalf nodded. "I think that would be best." He muttered.
Marie had not heard any of what the dwarves of Gandalf had said, for all she could focus on was the black corpse at her feet. It made her feel queasy and yet she could not look away, not even as the blood reached her toes. The reality of what had happened so far was catching up to her, and she was coming down from an adrenaline rush.
"Marie?"
Gandalf's old hand rested on her small shoulder in much needed support.
"I'm ... alright." She muttered. When she could finally move her eyes again, they looked to her sword first. It was no longer glowing.
"Come along. I think you'll enjoy this." Gandalf stirred her around and towards the pathway.
"What do you mean?"
"Wait and you will see."
Marie did not question him and just sheathed her sword.
The path twisted and grew narrower but it was still large enough for each dwarf to pass through, though Bombur did require assistance on the odd corner. Marie looked up above her head and saw the sky lighting their way, letting her hand slide along the rocks. The gentle grazing of skin and granite was therapeutic and calmed her down.
'It looks like the inside of a mountain. But weren't we underground before? Did Gandalf know ... What the ...?'
Marie pulled her hand away from the wall in shock. Water was trickling from a tiny faucet carved by nature in the side of the rocks. It flowed into a tiny stream that ran all the way to the edge of the path, which curved out into the open and along the side of the mountain. Marie looked down at the valley bellow with utter awe across her face. Hidden within lush green trees stood an elvish city, stretching up along the mountain side with its various halls and towers, with a great waterfall bring fresh water into its heart. The low light of the sun peeking out from behind the mountain created a gentle glow in the valley.
"The Valley of Imladris." Gandalf said, coming up from behind Marie, "In the common tongue it is known by another name."
"Rivendell." Marie breathed. She had read many tales that had mentioned it, and had stared at countless pictures that had tried to depict it, but never had she thought that she would even see the fabled city with her own eyes. Some of the younger dwarves were entranced by this secret haven, though only a little.
"The Last Homely House east to the sea." Gandalf lent on his staff and grinned with a tad satisfaction. This did not go unnoticed by the dwarf king.
"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy?" He walked up to the wizard and slammed the hilt of his battle axe hard into the ground, breaking Marie's daze.
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Gandalf tried to calm Thorin's rising temper before it got out of hand.
"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."
"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered."
Marie watched Thorin's face fall with scepticism. As far as she could tell, Thorin would do anything to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, but whether or not his pride would allow him to seek help here was still a mystery.
Gandalf adjusted his grip on his staff and spoke in a more light hearted tone. "If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me."
The look Thorin gave him was like that of a child being told to off and forced to apologize, causing Marie to hide her grin behind her hand.
"Come along now. The sooner we make introductions, the sooner we may all find rest from this day." Gandalf picked up the folds of his cloak and parted the company to take the lead.
"Indeed." Marie sighed and took a step after Gandalf, but faltered as she passed Thorin. She looked up and found the dwarf staring down at her. "You could ... I don't know ... lighten up a little." Her attempt at joking with him fell flatter than a coin.
His bright eyes just continued to look down at her until she scampered away after Gandalf.
The trek down the side of the mountain into the valley was unnecessarily long, but worth it for the spectacular sight before them. Marie found herself slipping further back in the line as she kept stopping just to stare at Rivendell. The crossed over a stone carved bridge and found themselves in an open pavilion that lay at just outside the city. The tall perfectly carve statues held Marie's attention while her companions looked about with caution, like the enemy would burst out and cut them down.
"Mithrandir."
The company turned to face the newcomer descend the stairs to greet them, and Marie finally got her first glance at an elf. The elf was a tall, graceful being in along purple tunic with long dark hair held back by a circlet. His face was angled like a cat and looked as smooth as porcelain. This was not what Marie had expected. She had always imagined Elves to be more ... faerie like, for lack of a better word, but this one look more human. As he approached Gandalf, he bowed his head and held his hand out in a welcoming fashion, as he did Marie spotted the telltale pointed ears.
Gandalf repeated the action to the elf, "I must speak with Lord Elrond."
The elf's dark eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the request, "My Lord Elrond is not here." He answered curtly.
"Where is he?" Gandalf asked.
Before the elf could answer, the sound of a horn filled the valley. It was the same as the horn they had heard before. Marie turned and saw a large party on horseback riding towards them.
'More elves?' She thought carelessly, unaware that she was right in the middle of their path.
Immediately the dwarves readied for a fight. "Circle up!" Thorin shouted and they packed together tightly, weapons out. "Maire, get back." Bofur pulled her into the centre, where Fili and Kili stood either side of her. The host of Elves in copper red armour rode into the pavilion and circled the company on their proud stallions, many of them carrying long banners. Marie felt a little claustrophobic with all the dwarves surrounding her.
The elves slowed their horses and looked down at them with blank expressions on their perfect faces.
"Gandalf." The leader called to the wizard with a smile. He himself carried signs of age, such as deep set lines across his brow and the corners of his mouth. Marie guessed that he was an elf of a great age and importance, and she was right.
"Lord Elrond, Mellon-nin." Gandalf bowed to the Lord of Rivendell and uttered something in the elvish tongue. Elrond responded in the same manner as he dismounted his black steed. He strode over to the wizard and the two shared a firm embrace as old friends. Marie stood on her tippy toes to peer around Fili's head to see better, catching a glimpse of a poorly made weapon of rusted steel and bone in Elrond's hand. "Strange for orcs to come so close to out border. Something or someone has drawn them near." He handed the sword to the elf that had greeted them.
"That would be us." Gandalf admitted. Elrond turned to the dwarves as Thorin stepped forward.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Elrond said.
"I do not believe we have met." Thorin's voice was cold and detached with his response, his hands that were resting on his battle axe clenched slowly.
"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled Under the Mountain."
"Really? He made no mention of you."
Marie had not known Thorin for very long, and had no clue as to why he was so resentful of the Elves in the first place, but she did know for a fact that he was being quite rude to the Elf Lord. Elrond did not appear to be offended by Thorin's poor conduct in manners and said something in his native tongue. The difference between the two languages was more apparent to Marie now that she had heard both. While the dwarvish tongue was more gravely and rough to hear, the elvish sounded more gentle, like it was rolling off the tongue.
Only Marie took the time to appreciate it, while Gloin interpreted it as a threat. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?!" He bared his teeth at the elf, others too growled.
"No Master Gloin." Gandalf shook his head and grinned slightly, "He is offering you food."
If there was one thing that Marie could say about the dwarves, it was that they never turn down a meal.
Not only did Elrond offer the company a place at his table, but a roof and warm bed for the night. Dinner was an interesting event, seeing is how the elvish diet did not consist of any meat. The dwarves were a little on edge and in dismay at such a thing, but Marie found the meal delightful compared to weeks of gruel and burnt meat.
Marie reveled in the world surrounding her and took in every detail. From the music she heard from far off to the shape of the trees, nothing escaped her gaze. The dwarves retired early to their shared room in a vain attempt to escape what Dwalin called the 'saccharin sweet' company of the 'pointed ears'. But Marie had a taste for exploring, fueled by the energy she felt when she stepped foot into Rivendell.
Her first port of call was the large study where they had had dinner. Marie wondered aimlessly from shelf to shelf, daring herself from time to time to remove a book. They were of course written in elvish, but Marie could still admire it. In one book she thought that she saw a rendering of the Shire. A table was set in the far corner of the study, but could barely be seen from under all the parchments and quills that cover its surface. She found herself climbing a set of stairs leading up to the second floor but there were no book or parchments.
There was a lone statue of grey stone place across from a painted mural. The statue was of a woman holding out a stone tablet with a piece of cloth, but Maire could not see what else. She looked across at the mural and examined it. It was a depiction of a battle, men and elves fighting against horde of orca and other unsightly creatures. At the centre of the painting, Marie saw a mortal man in silver armour hold up a broken sword against a black figure, surrounded in darkness. While its body looked to be made of smoke and shadow, its helmet was solid and intimidating, as was the weapon it was baring down on the man.
On its finger, Marie thought she could see a sliver of gold ... like a ring.
She was focusing so hard on the picture that she did not hear the approach of her gracious host.
"I' lanta en' i' Mori Heru." Elrond said in a clear voice so as not to scare the hobbit. "The Great Battle of the Last Alliance."
Marie looked up the tall elf, now dressed in a golden robe, as he looked at the picture with a hint of reminiscences in his blue eyes.
"History?" She asked politely, to which Elrond smiled and nodded. "Yes, history that has become but a fleeting memory in the hearts of many." He passed by Marie and walked towards an open balcony at the end of the floor. "Tell me Miss Baggins, how do you like Imladris?"
Marie scurried after the elf until she walked in step with him, "I am enjoying it very much."
"I am glad to hear that. It was been an age since I seen a Halfling this far east of Arthedain."
"Blame it on either a wizard of my spontaneous decision for an adventure."
Elrond's chuckle emanated deep in his chest and rest his hands on the banister. They stood and looked down at the gardens bellow. The setting sun turned everything bronze and gold, making it seem as though it was crafted by hand. Again Marie felt very small.
"I know it is a little late, but I would like to thank you for allowing us to stay here." Marie turned and bowed her head to Elrond.
"It is quite alright Miss Baggins. Rivendell is a place of refuge for those seeking it. I do not make it a habit to turn away those in need so long as their purpose does not threaten my people."
Marie bit the inside of her cheek, Elrond had not been informed of the nature of their travels for the time being and Marie did not wish to be the one with the loose tongue.
"This a place of healing, one of the few remaining places for such things left in this world." Elrond went on.
"I could feel a great energy as I entered here." Marie nodded, "Like a wave of peace."
Elrond looked down at the hobbit, "That energy is felt by those in need of healing."
"But I'm not sick nor am I injured."
"No, but something may be broken."
Marie looked away from the elf and tightened her lips.
Elrond saw the discomfort in her and said nothing more on the matter. "You carry an elvish blade?" He said when he spotted the small thing attached to her hip. Marie straightened up and nodded. "Thorin found it and gave it to me, though I can not fathom why."
"It was with Orcrist and Glamdring?"
Marie shrugged. "I guess."
"May I?" Elrond held out a hand. Marie pulled the sword out and carefully handed it to him.
It looked tiny in his hands, just slightly bigger than a normal dagger. "Indeed, this is from Gondolin. Made by the same hand that forged Orcrist, perhaps as a partner." He ran his thumb along the tiny inscription on the blade, "There is an enchantment on the steel. It will glow in the presence of Orcs and Goblins."
'An early warning. I like that.' Marie thought. Elrond passed the sword back to Marie, "May it serve you well in the future."
"I think I'd be too afraid to use it." She muttered.
"Or wise Miss Baggins. The one who chooses the path of peace hold the same amount, if not more courage to do so than the one who walks the path of a warrior." Elrond said.
"Well, I don't know about that." Marie scoffed to herself.
'My courage left me long ago.'