Chapter VI: To Rivendale
Toron woke from an uneasy sleep, and saw Latriel standing at the opening of the cave. He was looking towards the west, seeing the dull tan fields of Eregion. He noticed the scattered rocks lying here and there throughout the vast plain, and also the few green patches of grass.
"You're up," Latriel said, turning his head and looking at Toron. "Finally."
"Yet," He sighed as he sat up, his wrinkled Elven garbs moving in the soft breeze entering through the cave entrance. "It was an uncomftorable sleep."
"Rocks do not make a good bed," Latriel laughed, but stopped as he noticed the seriousness on Toron's face. He was looking out of the cave entrance, onto the rolling hills of Eregion.
"It was not the rocks that made the sleep uncomfortable," Toron looked at the ground. "I had a troubling dream. If it was even a dream." He moved forward and crossed his legs, putting his chin into his hands. "It was too real to be a dream, but there is no alternative."
"It could have been a vision, a foresight."
"Possibly," Toron mumbled as he stood and walked to the cave entrance. He stopped next to Latriel, and took a deep breath of fresh mountain air. "I've never had one before." He said as he stared into the rolling hills of Eregion, as if lost in a trance.
"Toron?" Latriel whispered. "Toron!" He yelled. Toron jerked out of his trance.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Gather your things, we must move quickly." Latriel walked to the back of the cave and began to pick up his things. Toron stared out of the cave, intent on his own thoughts. He then turned and picked up his carry-bag. "Come, Latriel. We must follow the Misty Mountains north to Rivendale."
"Rivendale? Don't you mean Rivendell?" Latriel asked as the caught up with Toron, who was making his way down from the slightly elevated cave.
"No, Rivendale was the name given to old Rivendell after Elrond left for the Grey Havens. When the next generation of Elves arrived and found Rivendell, they gifted it with a new name. It was slightly run-down, but they refurbished it and cleaned it up. The new master of the last homely house is Elmindel."
"Elmindel? Who is he?" Latriel asked as they made their way north along the western side of the Misty Mountains, tiny specks compared to the massive peaks of the Mountains by which they were traveling.
"He is the wisest Elf in Middle-Earth - well, second wisest. Only to Caleborn, son of Celeborn of Lorien."
"Why did we not stop in Lorien? We passed it before we reached Caradhras - we could have stopped there for a time to regain our strength."
Toron stopped and looked at Latriel. "Lorien is out of the question as of now. Why we did not stop there, I will only know. We must continue. Do not be burdened by past decisions, only concentrate on those to come." He said, placing his hand on Latriel's shoulder. "Let us continue." He said with a smile, and he walked off with Latriel close behind.
The journey to Rivendale was long, and took half a day longer than Toron had intended. The walk was uneventful, except for Latriel's constant complaining. As they approached the valley of Rivendale, a smile came to Toron's face.
"Rivendale. The Last Homely House, and home to Elmindel the wise."
The elven city of Rivendale stood beautiful and intimidating. Surrounded by multiple waterfalls, Rivendale stood a tall and elegant example of Elven architecture. Even Latriel's hopes were lifted as he looked upon the beauty of Rivendale.
The two walked down the winding path, and they stopped in front of the flowing river of Bruinen. Latriel turned, looking at the tall, tree-covered wall of rock behind him. He then looked at the valley around him, it was clad in the beautiful green of trees. He then looked at the flowing Bruinen before him. "I am glad to be among our own again. Where to from here, master?"
Toron looked back to Latriel, and sighed. "We shall stay here a short while, then we shall take the old Forest Road East to Central Mirkwood. From there, we then turn north to our home."
Toron looked at Rivendale. "I was in Rivendell once, a long time ago." He stopped as he was lost in memory. "Perhaps I shall tell you the tale while we are resting there. Maybe I shall tell you of the great Council of Elrond."
Latriel's jaw opened and he looked at Toron in amazement. "You know of the great Council of Elrond?"
"Yes, I was there. With the son of the King, Legolas."
"The great archer, and member of the great Fellowship?"
"Yes, I was sent with him, but was not chosen to join the fellowship. Come, you shall learn of all that later. It was not all that long ago. But the time will come when you will learn my tale in full."
The two made their way across the violent current of the Bruinen, and stood beholding the beauty of the city.
"Come! To the halls of Rivendale!" Toron shouted as they ran off to the fair city of Rivendale.
Toron woke from an uneasy sleep, and saw Latriel standing at the opening of the cave. He was looking towards the west, seeing the dull tan fields of Eregion. He noticed the scattered rocks lying here and there throughout the vast plain, and also the few green patches of grass.
"You're up," Latriel said, turning his head and looking at Toron. "Finally."
"Yet," He sighed as he sat up, his wrinkled Elven garbs moving in the soft breeze entering through the cave entrance. "It was an uncomftorable sleep."
"Rocks do not make a good bed," Latriel laughed, but stopped as he noticed the seriousness on Toron's face. He was looking out of the cave entrance, onto the rolling hills of Eregion.
"It was not the rocks that made the sleep uncomfortable," Toron looked at the ground. "I had a troubling dream. If it was even a dream." He moved forward and crossed his legs, putting his chin into his hands. "It was too real to be a dream, but there is no alternative."
"It could have been a vision, a foresight."
"Possibly," Toron mumbled as he stood and walked to the cave entrance. He stopped next to Latriel, and took a deep breath of fresh mountain air. "I've never had one before." He said as he stared into the rolling hills of Eregion, as if lost in a trance.
"Toron?" Latriel whispered. "Toron!" He yelled. Toron jerked out of his trance.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Gather your things, we must move quickly." Latriel walked to the back of the cave and began to pick up his things. Toron stared out of the cave, intent on his own thoughts. He then turned and picked up his carry-bag. "Come, Latriel. We must follow the Misty Mountains north to Rivendale."
"Rivendale? Don't you mean Rivendell?" Latriel asked as the caught up with Toron, who was making his way down from the slightly elevated cave.
"No, Rivendale was the name given to old Rivendell after Elrond left for the Grey Havens. When the next generation of Elves arrived and found Rivendell, they gifted it with a new name. It was slightly run-down, but they refurbished it and cleaned it up. The new master of the last homely house is Elmindel."
"Elmindel? Who is he?" Latriel asked as they made their way north along the western side of the Misty Mountains, tiny specks compared to the massive peaks of the Mountains by which they were traveling.
"He is the wisest Elf in Middle-Earth - well, second wisest. Only to Caleborn, son of Celeborn of Lorien."
"Why did we not stop in Lorien? We passed it before we reached Caradhras - we could have stopped there for a time to regain our strength."
Toron stopped and looked at Latriel. "Lorien is out of the question as of now. Why we did not stop there, I will only know. We must continue. Do not be burdened by past decisions, only concentrate on those to come." He said, placing his hand on Latriel's shoulder. "Let us continue." He said with a smile, and he walked off with Latriel close behind.
The journey to Rivendale was long, and took half a day longer than Toron had intended. The walk was uneventful, except for Latriel's constant complaining. As they approached the valley of Rivendale, a smile came to Toron's face.
"Rivendale. The Last Homely House, and home to Elmindel the wise."
The elven city of Rivendale stood beautiful and intimidating. Surrounded by multiple waterfalls, Rivendale stood a tall and elegant example of Elven architecture. Even Latriel's hopes were lifted as he looked upon the beauty of Rivendale.
The two walked down the winding path, and they stopped in front of the flowing river of Bruinen. Latriel turned, looking at the tall, tree-covered wall of rock behind him. He then looked at the valley around him, it was clad in the beautiful green of trees. He then looked at the flowing Bruinen before him. "I am glad to be among our own again. Where to from here, master?"
Toron looked back to Latriel, and sighed. "We shall stay here a short while, then we shall take the old Forest Road East to Central Mirkwood. From there, we then turn north to our home."
Toron looked at Rivendale. "I was in Rivendell once, a long time ago." He stopped as he was lost in memory. "Perhaps I shall tell you the tale while we are resting there. Maybe I shall tell you of the great Council of Elrond."
Latriel's jaw opened and he looked at Toron in amazement. "You know of the great Council of Elrond?"
"Yes, I was there. With the son of the King, Legolas."
"The great archer, and member of the great Fellowship?"
"Yes, I was sent with him, but was not chosen to join the fellowship. Come, you shall learn of all that later. It was not all that long ago. But the time will come when you will learn my tale in full."
The two made their way across the violent current of the Bruinen, and stood beholding the beauty of the city.
"Come! To the halls of Rivendale!" Toron shouted as they ran off to the fair city of Rivendale.
