Cirdan the Shipwright had been a part of the White Council since the early First Age, yet he had never been called to Rivendell under such dire circumstances. He smoothed down his long blonde beard with one hand, whilst the other tapped his fingers against the polished white wood of the meeting table. Elrond's two boys were standing at the back of the room, their eyes full of curiosity as they stared at him unabashedly.
He knew that he tended to cause a scene whenever he left Mithlond and ventured into the heart of Middle Earth. There were very few who had seen an Elf with a beard, let alone one with the breadth and musculature that he himself possessed.
"Ah my friend." Cirdan turned as Elrond entered the room, his long cape floating out behind him and a smile on his fair face. "I am glad you could make it."
"The White Council was called," he answered, standing and accepting Elrond's kiss of greeting. "And so I came."
With that Elrond held out his arm and gestured for somebody behind him to come forward. There was a shuffling noise and a Hobbit, a Halfling, walked into the Meeting Room. Cirdan was familiar with these little creatures, the Grey Havens were close to The Shire, and Hobbits would often come to the coast for summer holidays. This particular one looked to be in his early middle age, with a shock of curly golden hair and sad looking brown eyes. All in all he was a picture of dejection and radiating heartbreak on every level, something which Cirdan was well versed in.
"And who is this?" he asked, smiling kindly at the Hobbit.
"Bilbo," he answered. "Bilbo Baggins my Lord."
Baggins, well that was a common name amongst the Halflings and if he wasn't wrong this particular one was part Took, a family line he was very fond of.
"You seem sad Mister Baggins," he said, pulling out one of the chairs for Bilbo to sit down.
"I am … fine," he answered, though he looked at the table as he said it.
There was definitely a story of lost love in this Hobbit's recent past, and Cirdan was sure that he would help him through it someway.
It didn't take long for the rest of the Council to arrive, Mithrandir and Curunir sitting across from each other at the table and glancing dark looks in each other's direction. Galadriel as per usual was stood at the window, her white sheer dress swirling elegantly around her ankles, she reminded him so much of his beloved that it made his heart ache in loss.
"Why do you call us here Gandalf?" demanded Curunir, his arms folded across his chest. "It had better not be this foolishness about the Ring of Power again."
Mithrandir scowled at that. "The Ring of Power has been found."
At that Cirdan sat straighter in his chair and immediately began spinning Narya around his ring finger, a nervous tick he had picked up from Gil-galad many millennia ago.
"And what has become of it?" he asked.
"Bilbo is the Ring bearer," said Galadriel, from where she had remained silent so far.
"Bilbo," said Elrond, placing his hand on the table. "Please show us the Ring."
The Hobbit nodded though it took quite some time until he finally removed the small band of gold from his pocket, and his eyes shifted anxiously around all those gathered before he placed it on the table. Immediately Cirdan knew that what Mithrandir spoke was the truth, and that this was the Ring of Power and it was something that he hadn't seen since the last Age when Isilduir had been inside that cursed mountain.
"Sauron will surely come for this," said Curunir. "It is not safe here Lord Elrond."
"He has already sent Orcs and a Nazgul to The Shire to reclaim it," answered Mithrandir. "However his Eye and thoughts rest elsewhere."
"And where would that be?" demanded Curunir.
"In Erebor," answered Galadriel, slowly walking towards the table but ignoring the Ring altogether. "And with the Arkenstone."
Ah, thought Cirdan, he has discovered what that gem truly is then.
"Why?" asked Bilbo, looking around at them with a confused look on his face. "What is so special about the Arkenstone?"
"The Arkenstone may be called the heart of the mountain to the Dwarves, but to us Elves and the Maiar it is known as Aule's heart," answered Elrond, smiling kindly at Bilbo. "It is what he gifted Yavanna when she agreed to be his betrothed."
"What it is my dear Hobbit," said Cirdan, looking down on the small creature at his side. "Is the very power of a Vala, he gave his beloved his very strength within that stone as a symbol of his love. Then he gave it to the Dwarves, his most favourite of children to keep safe in his absence."
"Oh," answered Bilbo, wringing his hands together. "Is that why …"
Here his voice trailed off and his eyes filled with tears.
"Yes," answered Mithrandir. "The gold sickness, the curse of Durin's line, though I am sure that Aule was not aware that it would have this affect when he gave it to them."
Bilbo nodded.
"So what must be done?" he asked.
Cirdan caught Galadriel's eye and she nodded and gave him a half smile.
"The Ring must be destroyed," he answered, placing a gentle hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "Sauron must not get his hands on the Arkenstone, all of that power must not be released upon this world or all will be destroyed."
"How do we destroy it?" asked Bilbo.
"It must be tossed into the fires in whence it was made," said Elrond. "The fires of Mount Doom in the darkness of Mordor, its destruction will cause Sauron to be exiled from these lands and his reach to be diminished."
"Very well," answered Bilbo, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "How do I get to Mordor?"