Exim Black: Elrond's foresight is an ability I'm looking forward to playing with, later on in the story.

Guest: Yes, Gandalf will talk to Saphira, no we won't see Shadowfax, and while we will see another character from Lord of the Rings, it won't be Gandalf the White.

Elrond looked at Gandalf, confusion knotting his brow. "Gandalf, " he whispered, "what sorcery is this?" He looked around, and cried in dismay, when he saw Saphira. He drew his sword and held it in a defensive position. He took stock of the room and its inhabitants. He did not know if he could protect the others, but this one seemed young. Perhaps he could distract it while Gandalf -

"Elrond!" Gandalf's voice cut through his thoughts. "Lord Elrond! Lower your sword! This dragon is not a foe. She is not the spawn of Glaurung or Ancalagon." Gandalf came beside him. "She is a friend."

Elrond dared to turn his eyes to Gandalf, but he ever kept the dragon in his vision. "Gandalf. What is the meaning of this?"

"I will explain everything, my friend," said Gandalf, his voice soothing. "But you must first put down your sword." Reluctantly, Elrond lowered his sword, though he did not return it to its scabbard, and he did not turn from the dragon.

"Well, Gandalf, tell me: where am I, and what is the reason none are dead yet, especially the dragon?" The last word he spat.

And so Gandalf spoke of what had occurred in the past few days, and what he had learnt of the Dragon Riders. He spoke of the current state of affairs in the world of Alagaësia. By the end, Elrond had sheathed his sword. He looked at Saphira, the light of anger and fear gone.

"My deepest apologies, lady Saphira," he bowed. "In my home, dragons are creatures of great evil and cruelty. However, I should have known at the first you were not one of them; they were hideous in appearance. You, however, as fair as the stars."

Saphira bared her teeth, in what appeared to be a smile, and the boy Eragon seemed to release a sigh. Eragon spoke. "Saphira says thank you for your compliments, but she says that if you did attack her, you wouldn't have done too well."

"Perhaps," was the Elf Lords only enigmatic response. Then he turned to the leader of the Varden and Eragon. "My apologies, Lord Ajihad, Master Eragon. In the excitement, I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Lord Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, though I imagine you have not heard of it, chiefly because it seems it does not exist here."

Eragon bowed from his seat. "It is an honour to meet an Elf, especially one that is not dying."

Ajihad nodded gravely. "It is an honour to meet you, Lord Elrond. But this complicates matters." Ajihad rested his head on his steepled fingers. "King Hrothgar will wish to know of you. And I do not image the Dwarven clans will be too happy with two Elves under their halls, especially an unknown one, even more so the fact that you have arrived unannounced."

"Indeed," replied Elrond. He pondered silently for a moment, before he spoke again. "This Elf-maiden, Arya. How fairs she?"

"The poison took a dreadful toll on her," answered Ajihad. "The healers worked on her throughout the night. She is expected to make a full recovery, if things do not go amiss. Unfortunately, she is in a terribly risky part of the process. Her life hangs in the balance."

"If that is the case, lord Ajihad," said Elrond, "then I offer my skills as a healer."

"Lord Elrond is the greatest healer of the age," vouched Gandalf. "His skills are legendary. None can surpass him, not in Middle-Earth, at least."

Ajihad pondered this. Or at least, pretended to. He had heard tales of the legendary skills the Elves possessed. Even if this one was not the same as the ones here, if this Gandalf character vouches for him, then there must be something of value and skill to him. And indeed, there was something about this Elrond character that seemed… strange. As if he was both more grounded in reality than anything in Alagaësia and more detached from reality. There were memories in those eyes, memories of days untold. No. Of years untold. Millenia. And yet his face seemed ageless. Hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of strength, and yet also like a venerable king, crowned with countless winters. He certainly held up to the reputation of the Elf legends he had so often heard, especially as a boy. And yet somehow more so.

"Very well," he said at last. He called in one of the guards, who was extremely confused by the sudden appearance of the Elf-lord. Ajihad calmed him down, explaining some of what has occurred. He ordered him then to escort him to the healers, where Arya lay. The guard obeyed, and Elrond went with him. Before they left, Ajihad told the guard to send Orik in. There was a loud dwarfish curse heard outside. The guard was heard talking to Orik. There was silence for a moment, before the Dwarf came in.

"Lord Ajihad, what is the meaning of this?!" Orik asked.

"I do not entirely know myself, Orik," said Ajihad. "But it would seem as though many bizarre things are occurring. The Elf that walked past you appeared in a flash of light, right before my eyes. He seems to be from the same land Gandalf is. I do believe he is not an enemy. But there are other things to discuss, Orik. Namely, your disobedience. You've caused me a great deal of trouble. I've had to listen to one of the twins complain all morning about you. Though not nearly as much as Gandalf, I suppose. But that still doesn't change the facts. You disobeyed multiple direct orders. An accounting is due."

Orik spoke softly, though his voice was rough. He gave his accounting to Ajihad, explaining how the Twins did nothing, even though they heard Eragon. He spoke of how they refused to send help, even when they did not surface. He told Ajihad about how they attempted to force their way into Murtagh's mind.

"Although," he mentioned, "I never would have done so if I knew who he was."

"No, no," Ajihad waves his hand. "You did the right thing. It's not our place to force our mind into others, even though it would be easier if we did. However, there still remains your insubordination. You defied a direct order from your superior. The punishment for that has always been death."

"You can't kill him!" cried Eragon, dismayed. "If he hadn't helped, none of us would be alive."

"You cannot interfere!" barked Ajihad. Then he sighed. "But, as you did help save a dragon, her rider, and a rather powerful seeming wizard, the punishment will be less severe. From here on out, Orik, you are unable to train, or fight, under my command. You will serve as a tour guide for Eragon, Saphira, and Gandalf."

Orik looked angry at first, but then confused. Gandalf had an idea of what Ajihad was playing at, and if he was right, then Ajihad had just played a very clever move. His face did not betray his thoughts.

Then Ajihad sighed, and pulled out Eragon's blade. He tapped on it idly. "I wish Brom had told me that he took Morzan's sword. I would suggest you do not wear it within this mountain. The Dwarves have long memories, and many remember the atrocities committed by the previous owner of this blade." He passed it back to Eragon. He also gave Gandalf's staff and sword back. "Now, if you please, I am about to have a long and particular meeting with the twins, and then a long and difficult meeting with the Dwarven king Hrothgar. Orik, if you would please show Eragon and Saphira to their rooms, and Gandalf to one of the suites. And perhaps feed them. I'm told they've had nothing more than hard bread to eat. For now, Eragon, Gandalf, Saphira, rest, relax. We will have to continue talking another time, particularly regarding your plans here at Tronjheim. But I must warn you, Eragon. You cannot escape the challenges that are to come, nor the politics. You are known, and so is the legacy of the Riders. People will ask for favours; they will demand you help them. Old men will ask you who to give their inheritance to, young ladies will ask you who they should marry, and more. You must be wise, and you must rely on the wisdom of your friends, and you must be fair, and just, and kind. Do not fear your youth, but do not become arrogant. That is all, for now."

They bowed, and left.

Elrond arrived at a large stone entrance. The guard knocked on the door. They waited, and the guard stood still, though obviously nervous. Elrond stood impassively beside him. At last, the door opened, revealing a young lady, in her twenties. She scowled at the guard.

"No one's allowed in," she hissed.

"Lord Ajihad has allowed this man to assist you," said the guard.

The lady looked to Elrond, and blanched. "Apologies, my lord," she fumbled, doing a curtsey. "We didn't expect an Elf to come and help us."

"Nor did you have any need," reassured Elrond. "I will help in my own ways, while you and your healers continue as you are."

"Yes, my lord," said healer. She ushered him in, and a very perplexed guard left.

"Inform me of this process, for it is new to me," commanded Elrond, coming upon the elf. Her face was hidden, but he could see the wounds. Once the healer summarised the healing process, and explained they were nearing the end, but that there is still a large chance for failure, Elrond told them to continue as they are. "I will make certain she lives, and heal her wounds."

The healers nodded, and continued as they were. When Elrond moved forward to heal her, he saw her face. He stiffened. She looked similar to his daughter, Arwen. Though, when he continued to look, he could see that there were many differences. She was far younger looking, and her face was hardened, even unconscious, and the light of the Eldar was not in her. Nevertheless, the similarity was there. Without wasting another moment, he poured his knowledge and his power into the work. The work was finished before midday.

When Elrond sensed that she had awoken, he was in another room, reading a book on the history of the dwarves in Alagaësia. He put the book down, and moved into the healing room. He saw her moving to rise from her bed.

"Please, do not rise," he said. She spun around to look at him, then her eyes opened in shock. "Welcome back to the Varden, Arya Egg-courier. I am Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, though you would likely not have heard of it, for it is very far away."

Arya could not find the words to speak. She rose and bowed.

"Please, do not bow. You should lay back down. I shall order food and books for you. As a healer, I suggest you rest for a while now, to make certain the poison is out of your body."

Arya rose, but she did not move back to the bed. "You healed me?" she asked, confused. She had not seen any elf like this, for he was certainly elven. But there was something, a glow, that was beyond anything the Ancient language had been recorded to achieve. But there had not been an Elf in Farthen Dûr besides her and her guards for decades.

Elrond smiled. "I arrived near the end of your healing. I merely kept you stable, and healed your wounds."

"Well, I am grateful for your help, nonetheless," said Arya. "Could you tell me of where you hail, so that I might have something to do while I rest?"

"I should not think so," said Elrond. "You need to rest. You seem to be quick to recover, so tomorrow you can seek me if you wish, and we can spend time talking of our homes. However, I can have food and drink brought to you."

"That is most kind of you, Lord Elrond," said Arya.

With that, Elrond left. He found a Dwarf, who looked decidedly unhappy about another Elf being in the mountain, but lightened somewhat up when Elrond complemented Tronjheim, comparing it to the great Dwarven realms in the days of yore, and soon pointing him to where the cooks were, and where Gandalf would have had a room. Soon, Elrond sent food and drink to Arya, and had found Gandalf, who was studying a map of Alagaësia in a large, well lit room. He looked up and saw Elrond.

"Ah, Lord Elrond," he said. "What troubles you?"

Elrond smiled. Gandalf was a mysterious figure, even for him, akin to the Lady Galadriel. He was insightful, and either straight to the point, or like a long, winding road, whichever suited his needs. It seems he would have to be direct as well. "Gandalf, do you know of any way back to Middle-Earth?"

"No, I fear not," confessed Gandalf. "Alas, the existence of other worlds, although known among the Valar, was a topic of little discussion. Few among the Maiar knew of the fact. This little I remember from Valinor. It appears we are stuck here until an opportunity arises for us to return."

Elrond nodded, silent. "What do you make of Tronjheim?" he asked after a while.

"It seems an excellent city," replied Gandalf. "Not unlike the city Erebor, though slightly lesser. I imagine we must use this moment of peace and quiet wisely. I do not think it will last very long."

Elrond sighed. "Very well then. Can you tell me much of this… new world?"

"Not much," answered Gandalf, a bit disappointed. "I can tell you a little, but you and I must still seek the deeper narrative." And so, Gandalf told Elrond what he knew, which was not much. Elrond sighed, definitively tired at the prospect of another war, and decided to go to the library. Gandalf agreed to go with him.

There they sat in silence, reading the texts and scrolls that were available to them. To Elrond's disappointment, there was nothing on the Elves, and the Dwarves were secretive about their language, though not as strict as the Dwarves of Middle-Earth. He soon found their runic alphabet, and a dictionary, and set about familiarizing himself with it. The day passed by without much noise in the library, as it was large, as large as the library of Imladris, although less full. There was history there, and Elrond and Gandalf took it upon themselves to familiarise themselves with at least a little, so that they would not wonder about the importance of some events. While they were there, a man came and informed Elrond of where he would be staying, and where the baths were. Night fell, eventually, and Gandalf and Elrond had gone through a good deal of books on a shelf. Gandalf took out his pipe, and began to smoke.

After a few puffs, he turned to Elrond and asked, "What do you think of the boy?"

Elrond was silent for a moment, pondering. He had not given much thought to the boy, Eragon, being chiefly concerned with healing the egg-courier Arya. But now casting his thoughts back, he felt that there was a power within the boy. It was unsimilar to anything he had seen before in Arda, save perhaps for the Ainur, and Glorfindel. But they were mightier than he, and, save for Glorfindel, alien to all but the Elves that dwelt with them in the Undying Lands.

"He seems to be powerful," he said at last. "He appears to wield great power in him, the potential of which he has not fully discovered yet."

"That is my thought, too," said Gandalf, silently. "I told you about our first meeting, Lord Elrond. I did not mention this, though: when we first met, and we fought off the slavers, he spoke a single word, one that seemed imbued with power, and fire came from his hands. Later, as we rode to the Varden, he spoke to me about a language, known simply as the Ancient Language. It appears to be tied to the magic of this realm, or more rightly, the magic of this world is tied to the language. Possibly. Unfortunately, I have not had much time to study much of this world, so I cannot rightly say."

Gandalf was silent, then, and they sat there for a time, thinking. At last, Elrond rose.

"Well, I shall take your advice, Mithrandir," he said.

"Hm?" muttered Gandalf, curious, although not altogether present.

"I am going to use the peace and quiet wisely, and take a bath," explained Elrond with a smile, which turned into a quiet, tired chuckle, which was joined by Gandalf.

Early the next morning, Orik roused Elrond from his waking sleep, explaining that King Hrothgar wished to see him. He donned robes he found in a cupboard, finding that they fit hem well. He followed Orik down many impressive halls, and struck up a conversation with him, learning a little of the history of the Dwarves here. It seemed that the Dwarves of Alagaësia were as secretive and distrustful of Elves as the ones in Arda. He turned the conversation towards crafting and metalwork. This caused Orik to open up, if only slightly. He seemed shocked at Elrond's knowledge. The two of them went back and forth, trading what they knew of mining and metalwork and crafting and sculpting.

At last, they came before the giant doors of the throne room of King Hrothgar.

"Well, I have to go seek Eragon and Saphira, they have a meeting with the King as well," said Orik.

"Of course," said Elrond, cheerfully. "I shall have to seek you out later, friend Orik, so we may continue our conversation."

"Aye, it seems I misjudged you, Elrond. If all the Elves of your homeland are like you, I would be honoured to visit it," Orik said. He turned and left, going past Gandalf as he did.

"Ah, lord Elrond," greeted Gandalf, stopping by him.

"Gandalf," Elrond responded, cheerfully. They turned, and saw Gandalf's escort open the doors to the throne room. "Shall we greet the king."

"We shall," said Gandalf, entering. Elrond went in just after him.

Hello all. Sorry it's so terribly late. Enjoy, and please comment and give me advice and your ideas.