Chapter 5 - The Hall of Fire
Lindir walked into the Hall of Fire. He smiled at the sight of the Hall's giant warm glow from the flickering fire. He found it comforting. The Hall of Fire was filled with elves. Some were seated off to the side talking in hushed tones, others with instruments in hand could seen playing and singing amongst themselves. As Lindir made his way through the Hall, he unsurprisingly found himself overwhelmed with invitations from various groups of elves, beckoning him to join them. He could hear his name being called out from all directions.
"My Lord Lindir, will you join us?"
"Have a seat over here my Lord!"
"My Lord, would care to join us in playing the harp?"
Lindir politely declined all inventions. He was seeking out a particular group of elves, the sons of Elrond. His heart greatly desired to see them. It had been a long time since he had last spoken to his friends. Lindir longed to hear their stories of their travels. Lindir himself had seen very little of the world, by choice, he rarely left the safety of Imladris. He always found himself enthralled with twin's (sometimes) over embellished tales of travelling with the Men of the North. Lindir was normally disinterested in the affairs of humans, but oddly found himself entertained when the twins relayed their stories. After careful thought on the matter, Lindir attributed this odd behavior to the over consumption of wine on his part, whenever he was with the twins.
"Lindir, over here."
Lindir turned towards the familiar voice. Lord Glorfindel was waving him over, seated upon a cushioned bench; a full wine glass clasped tightly in his hand. Lindir smiled. Across from Glorfindel sat Lady Galadriel, Elladan, and Elrohir.
The sons of Elrond both stood as Lindir approached. They both clasped his arm in a form of greeting before drawing him into a hug. Glorfindel poured Lindir a glass of wine, patting the cushions next to him.
"My Lords, tis a pleasure to see you once again," Lindir spoke, smiling.
"Lindir, please you need not use formality of titles with us," Elladan said, as he and is brother sat back down beside Galadriel.
"My Lady," Linder said. He bowed to Lady Galadriel, before he joined them, taking his seat. She responded with a graceful head nod, her eyes sparkled as if little stars were trapped within them.
"Lindir, how do you fair? You looked most uncomfortable earlier," Glorfindel said, as he handed Lindir an extremely full glass of wine.
Lindir blushed slightly. "I am well," he replied, after take a huge sip from his glass. "Though it does not compare to having to witness a group of dwarves feast."
"An experience that must have been for you!" Glorfindel exclaimed. "And what did you think of the dwarf folk? Now that you have finally seen them."
"They are quite brash in both their words and their actions, and were most rude to Lord Elrond upon arrival," Lindir said, through taking generous sips of his wine. "In a form of innocent retaliation Lord Elrond allotted to have a vegetarian meal served," Lindir laughed. "After the meal they had managed to wear half their plate on their beards. Tis not I sight I should endure again."
Elrohir laughed, "Lindir, you are too innocent in the ways of the world. You should come out with us to a human tavern, the etiquette of your dwarves will appear to look as fine dinning after the evening is through."
Lindir looked horrified at the thought, "I rather hear your tales than share in that particular experience..." Lindir stopped to take another long sip of his wine before adding thoughtfully, "Though the dwarves carry with them some interesting artifacts. My Lord Elrond was most surprised."
"And what might they be?" Glorfindel asked in earnest. His words were becoming slightly slurred, having been long under the influence of drink.
"Orcrist and Glamdring," Lindir said smoothly.
Glorfindel's eyes widened at the news. Galadriel raised an eyebrow.
"And how did they come upon these treasures?" he asked, obviously interested.
"Apparently found in a troll's hoard."
"Hmm interesting. I feared Glamdring might have been lost forever. It was Turgon's most prized," Glorfindel reminisced. "I would very much like to see again."
"Mithrandir is currently its keeper. I am sure it could be arranged. Him and Lord Elrond should be here shortly. They currently have business with one of the dwarves. Something I am apparently not privy to," Lindir replied, not able to mask the disappointment from his voice.
"Do not despair Dear Lindir, I am sure Father will share the details with you later. You are after all considered amongst one of his closest confidants," Elladan consoled.
"What I found even more interesting was, there was a hobbit amongst them," Lindir said, finishing his glass. To which Glorfindel dutifully refilled.
"A hobbit!" exclaimed Elrohir. "Why we haven't seen a hobbit since the one called Bullroarer. He was so huge he could ride a horse. Remember Elladan?"
"Aye," his brother responded. "He had quite the sense of humor too, if I recall correctly."
"Now Lindir, have us a song!" requested Elrohir, joyfully changing the topic. "It has been far too long since we were last graced with the sound of your voice!"
A group of elves nearest to them heard, and cheered enthusiastically in agreement. Lindir was after all, the finest minstrel in all the elven realms of Arda. No other's song could compare to that of Lindir's.
"Aye," said Glorfindel in agreement. "Once Círdan arrives I fear he may keep you for himself. We all know how much he loves your voice. He is most adamant that even the songs of the Teleri do not compare to yours. Next time I am forced to summon him, I shall bring you along. It would make the journey more bearable."
Lindir blushed, "Lord Círdan it too kind in his compliments."
"You jest!" exclaimed Elrohir. "I have never known Círdan to freely give out praise. He has seen much in the world, and difficult to please. Now come, have us a song!"
Lindir smiled, he was all too happy to comply. Lindir felt the most comfortable with himself when he was singing. When he sang he was transformed to a completely different elf. He was no longer that unconfident awkward advisor of Lord Elrond. No, at his young age, Lindir was a master of his craft. His gift for song was considered a rarity, even amongst elves. When he sang he was not merely singing words, but the emotion emitting from his song pulled you in, as if you were apart of the melody he created.
"Any requests My Lord?"
"Aye, Sing us The Fall of Gil-galad."
"Are you sure you would not prefer something more suited for your homecoming?" Lindir asked, hesitantly. The Fall of Gil-galad was a sad song, especially when heard within The House of Elrond. For many, it was an old memory, which still cut deeply within the hearts of the Noldor, none more so than Lord Elrond himself.
"Nay, tis one of my favorites," Elrohir replied smiling. His grey eyes sparkled as if he were an abashed elfling asking for a second helping of desert.
Lindir relented, "Then I shall not deny you the pleasure of hearing it." An elf handed Lindir his harp. Lindir struck the cords, testing them, before he began to sing.
As Lindir sang, Elrohir clasped Galadriel's delicate hands within his battle worn ones. Elladan closed his eyes, resting his head upon her shoulder. Galadriel smiled affectionately at her grandsons, as she too relaxed enjoying the soft melody of Lindir.
And so the evening began, the son's of Elrond continuously requesting different songs from Lindir, who was happy to abide, while Glorfindel continuously refilled Lindir's wine glass.
Bilbo was pleasantly surprised and felt extremely honored that Lord Elrond had asked him to join the elves in the Hall of Fire. Bilbo knew very little of their kind but wished to learn more. There was something of the first-born that he found utterly fascinating. Elves were such mysterious, graceful creatures. Some too old to fathom but in appearance remained forever young. Their movement's fluid and harmonious, their voices musical. Bilbo did not know where his future lay. This could be his last chance to learn of the elves, he wished to see as much as Rivendell as possible, in what short time he had to spend there.
Bilbo strolled along, beside Lord Elrond and Gandalf, who mindful of the hobbit's short stature and legs walked at a considerate pace. The threesome walked in a comfortable silence, through the vast array of balconies and hallways, all having their own spectacular view of the waterfalls surrounding them. The beauty of Imladris incomparable to anything else in all of Middle Earth.
Bilbo would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when they reached the Hall of Fire.
"Um excuse me, Lord Elrond?" Bilbo asked.
"Yes Master Baggins?" Elrond replied, looking down towards the hobbit.
"I was wondering, what exactly is this Hall of Fire?" Bilbo inquired nervously. He hoped he wasn't offending Lord Elrond by asking something that was seemingly common knowledge.
Elrond smiled, "Why Master Baggins, it is the grandest room in my house. During the daytime it is quiet place where any could do as they wish, but under the stars it is a place of gathering. All who wish to gather within the Hall of Fire share stories, song, and dance."
"I am quite looking forward to it," Gandalf added. "It has been some time since I witnessed the merrymaking of elves."
"So it is like a party?" Bilbo asked thoughtfully.
"You could call it that," Gandalf winked.
As they neared the grand hall, the sweet sound of enchanting elvish song could be heard from the hallway. Bilbo had never heard anything of its likeness before. Though he could not understand the words they sang of, the song pierced through him, he could feel their meaning as the words took shape like a spell upon his heart. Bilbo felt as though he were floating amongst a dream.
"Master Baggins, you are in for a treat," Gandalf softly spoke, pulling Bilbo out from under the spell. "Lindir is singing tonight."
"He usually does not take requests, my sons must have gotten to him," Elrond said, with the wine, he added silently to himself, as he stopped before a large oak door with a large tree was carved into the wood.
"He sings the song of Elbereth," explained Gandalf. "If I recall correctly it is a favorite amongst these halls, and often sung many times throughout the evening."
Elrond gracefully pushed the door open as Bilbo was once again caught up in the enchantment of the sweet interwoven elvish syllables. Elrond held the door open for Bilbo, allowing him first entry into the Hall of Fire. Bilbo's breath caught in his chest at the sight before him. In the centre of the room stood a giant hearth, the soft warm glow of the flickering fire bounced off the walls of the Hall and the faces of its ethereal inhabitants. The sight beheld many fair faces, some dancing, some playing instruments, while others sat and stood in small groups, scattered throughout the hall.
Bilbo was in a dream like daze as Lord Elrond led him towards the unknowns of the firelit hall.
TBC
The next chapter: Chapter 6 – Many Meetings