Okay, ignore that last about incorrect movie quotes! I found a transcript of the script online so from here to the end of AUJ we should be spot-on! Ngl, this is my favorite chapter so far. Remember that bit about how you're not supposed to tell people the future? You kinda throw that one to the winds for Elrond. Also we find out that Thorin has a teeny secret that you get to exploit for some Dwarf-man-power. DID I MENTION I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.

Disclaimer: Tolkien own Tolkien, you own you!

Each step into Rivendell you take with reverence. You breathe deeply to fill yourself with as much of the clean, vaguely sweet air as possibly. You give a low ohh of wonder upon seeing Lindir come out to meet the company. He was the first real elf you'd ever laid eyes on, and you immediately knew you'd have a hard time acting up to the genuine thing.

"Mithrandir!" Lindir calls in greeting.

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf says merrily. "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

Lindir seems surprised by the request. "My Lord Elrond is not here."

"Not here?" Gandalf is even more surprised. "Where is he?"

A familiar horn sounds in the distance. Several horses trot over the bridge and into the courtyard. You smile upon seeing them, but Thorin yells something in Khuzdul. The Dwarves draw their weapons, ready for a fight. You're astonished when you are buffeted to the center of the protective ring along with dismounts. You watch in awe as he greets and converses in elvish with Gandalf. His gaze meets yours as he invites the company to dinner. You drop your head quickly, blushing. You wonder if you'll get away with not speaking with him, considering you know maybe twenty words total of elvish.

Unfortunately for your masquerade (but fortunately for your inner fangirl), you somehow find yourself sitting to the left of Thorin, only two places away from Elrond. You keep your eyes on your plate as much as you think is polite, but you can't help glancing up now and then to admire the architecture and the elves playing instruments. The song is floaty and dreamlike and adds perfectly to the tranquil atmosphere. You briefly consider just staying here, especially as you contemplate what lies ahead.

Elrond's voice pulls you out of your reverie. "It is an unexpected pleasure to greet kin this day."

"Oh!" You blush slightly. "The pleasure is mine, my lord. The tales of Imladris do not do it justice."

"And what is your name, my lady?"

"A-Aniel, I'm Aniel."

Elrond, aware of your nervousness, smiles gently. "You are welcome here, Lady Aniel. I must admit I'm intrigued to know how you came to join your current company."

"Lots of begging and even more luck," you say without really thinking.

"She's proven useful," Thorin covers. You beam at him.

The feast ends with evening and you having eaten past your fill. You're intent on going to your guest room, figuring out how to fill and warm a bathtub, and enjoying your last sleep in a real bed for a long while. You get all of three steps towards that goal when Thorin grabs your arm and drags you in another direction.

"Come with me," he orders.

"What? Why?"

"I want you to translate anything the elf-lord says."

"But I - er, yeah, alright." You follow Thorin to Elrond's private library, very glad that no elvish is spoken in the upcoming exchange. "You'll need to show him your map, by the way," you tell him.

"That's just what we're going to debate."

"Don't bother debating. He's the only one who can read it. Just get it over with."

Thorin very predictably does not take your advice and fights Gandalf every step of the way before grudgingly handing over the parchment. Elrond identifies the moon runes and leads the way to the crystal altar. The white moon refracts off the slab of crystal, illuminating the runes. Elrond reads aloud, "Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo asks.

Gandalf clarifies, "It is the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together."

Thorin looks troubled. "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

"Don't worry," you say, "we'll get there just in time, Thorin. We'll get in."

"You know this? How?" Elrond looks sharply at you. You gulp.

"She has the gift of foresight," Thorin says almost carelessly. "It's been rather useful."

You smile brightly. "Thank you, Thorin!"

Elrond ignores the divergent exchange. His eyes are hawklike as they bore into yours. "It is not unheard of for elves to see beyond the present, but for one so young as you to have developed so far is...interesting. How far have you seen?"

You open your mouth, but a completely different type of intuition tells you that now is not the time to spout off your trivia. Instead you merely say, "I have seen Thorin as King Under the Mountain and Erebor rebuilt."

You can tell that Elrond does not quite believe you. "So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain."

Thorin's eyes narrow. "What of it?"

"There are some who would not deem it wise."

Thorin takes back the map in a manner that summarily closes the conversation. He, Balin, Bilbo, and you follow the passage back to the library and into the pristine night. Each party says goodnight and goes their separate ways. You start to head to your room before you recall your goal of relaxation.

You whirl around; Thorin is only a few paces away. "Wait, Thorin!" you call after him.

He turns. "What?"

"Can you, er, help me with something?"

"With what?"

"I want a bath, but I don't think I can lug all that water back to my room alone. D'you mind?"

Thorin reacts to your request in the most unexpected way: he blinks rapidly and suddenly becomes very interested in the leaves on a nearby bush. "You cannot do that yourself?"

"Does it look like these sad elf arms can push a full tub of water?"

Thorin dithers a moment before relenting and following you to your room. It's a small but cozy chamber with a luxurious bed and fireplace. You sigh fondly at the sight of an actual bed.

"You don't fill the tub directly," Thorin says gruffly, taking a pitcher from the dresser. "You fill this and pour it in the tub."

"One by one?" you gasp, horrified. "But that's so many trips!"

"How did you do it where you come from?"

"Not like this! That's so much work!"

"Go wash in the falls, then!"

"No, I want hot water!"

Thorin groans and heads to fill the pitcher. You grab a basin and follow. The pair of you go back and forth until the tub is filled, which admittedly doesn't take as much time as you thought it would. Thorin pushes it in front of the fire for you.

"Yay!" You beam at the best vestige of modern civilization that you've had in a while. "Thank you, Thorin!"

Thorin is standing by the fire, his arms cross, looking - you're shocked to realize - awkward. He says in a low, prim voice, "I must admit something to you."

A fire, a bath, and something to be admitted? This is right out of a fanfic! Your heart pounds at the possibility of Thorin confessing his undying love for you, or at least saying how beautiful you look in the moonlight. "Yes?" you press excitedly.

"I am not proud - whatever race, you are a lady, and you deserve such respect - and it was an accident - "

"Just tell me!"

"I saw you, er, dancing by the river."

You have no clue what he's talking about for a moment, then it hits you like a truck. "Augh, Thorin!" you exclaim, throwing your towel at him.

"My deepest apologies. I assure you that I did not take advantage of the situation. I hid until you were, ah, decent."

You recall the breaking twig and not seeing anything in the darkness. Your cheeks fill with heat. "Why didn't you say something?!"

Thorin looks at you incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"You could have announced yourself or something! You came all this way with that in the back of your mind?"

"I did intend on coming clean, and I have. But why were you doing it in the first place?"

"Can't a girl dance naked in the woods without fear of being seen? It's the middle of the Wild, not Gondor!"

Thorin rubs his face in exasperation. "You are unlike any elf I've ever met. Or any Dwarf, for that matter."

"Wow, that makes three whole complements in one day! Did you have too much wine at dinner? Do you need to lie down?"

"You are just like my nephews," he grumbles.

"That's four!"

Thorin throws up his hands and stomps out. You laugh without restraint so he can hear you. The water has warmed in the time you were bothering Thorin, so you slip into the tub with a moan of relief. You haven't been graced with hot water in over a month, and you won't have it again at least until Lake Town. Therefore you stay in the tub until you almost drown from falling asleep. The long soak has done wonders for your morale. You dry off, slip into some night clothes so kindly provided, and are out as soon as your head touches the pillow.

You know you only have as long in Rivendell as it takes for the White Council to convene, so you set to work checking items off your to-do list. You explore every nook and cranny of the elven home. You have a peaceful, solitary lunch in the unparalleled gardens. You flip through a few books to just to be able to say you did, even though you can't read a word of them. You take a warm bath every night. Most importantly, you learn how to use a sword.

You stumble across a group of elves practicing one day on your exploration route. Fascinated, you draw your sword and try to copy their movements. Most of the forms are too fast and advanced for you to keep up with. You huff in frustration.

Heavy boots behind you make you pause. It's Thorin and Dwalin. You watch them sweep the very obvious scene of you with your sword and the elves in the distance and flush. "I was trying to learn," you mutter dispiritedly.

Thorin shakes his head in what seems to be amusement. Dwalin casts him a look and says, "Peeping through bushes is no way to learn, lass. Come out to the courtyard; I'll see what I can make of you."

"Really? Oh, thank you, Dwalin! It's gonna get rough from here, so I'm glad I'll know how to defend myself!" You skip ahead of them, swinging your sword with each hop. Behind you, Dwalin does not look encouraged.

Thorin asks, "How much more rough?"

You cease skipping and look over your shoulder at them. Thorin's face is free from the blood it will be drenched in all too soon. "Well...it'll be okay. Just remember that we all make it to Erebor."

Once in the courtyard, Dwalin teaches you the bare basics: footwork, parrying, and thrusting. Your confidence skyrockets when you're able to perform easy combos in slow motion. Dwalin, despite his gruff demeanor, is a very patient instructor. You draw a few passing observers, including Fili and Kili.

"Oi!" you exclaim when you see the blond brother. "You still owe me five coins!"

Fili grumbles something about hoping you'd forget and tosses you a small pouch. You smirk and tuck it away.

"Did you bet with her?" Thorin inquires, amused.

"Against her," Kili corrected. "I told him not to."

"What were the stakes?"

"That we would end up here."

You wince as Thorin stares at you in outrage. "You knew? You knew Gandalf would lead us here?"

"Er...well, we had to come anyway! Elrond had to read the map! And I wanted a hot bath!"

"A bath that you made me fill!"

It's the other three's turn to stare. You laugh yourself stupid as Thorin realizes what he said. He tries to explain. "It was a favor, she asked me to - I didn't - argh, you!"

Your laugh morphs into a scream as Thorin starts after you. You run in circles around the courtyard, screeching like the end of days is upon you - which, if Thorin catches you, it will be. Any attempt to gain support from the others is met with debilitating laughter. You wind up climbing a tree and sitting in the branches while Thorin glowers truimphantly up at you, pleased with his work.

"I expected plenty of things from you, Thorin Oakenshield, but you holding me hostage in a tree was not one of them!" you say sourly.

"Perhaps your foresight is failing, then, lady."

"Foresight! You little - !" You're not brave enough to face him on the ground, so you begin pelting him with the small nuts growing on the branches near you. You laugh maniacally as he's forced to swat the projectiles away.

Suddenly he stops fighting the rain of terror altogether, and Dwalin, Kili, and Fili stop cackling in the background. After one more well-aimed nut, you follow Thorin's gaze to see Gandalf and Elrond standing on the steps nearby. You slowly and quietly climb down from the tree and stand by Thorin, not meeting Elrond's eyes.

The elf-lord says with poorly-suppressed amusement, "Do not stop on my account. You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

You blush. You'd forgotten Elrond has a sense of humor. "It's not what it...I...I really can't explain myself."

"Such innocent mirth never needs an explanation, young one. Would you do me the honor of walking with us?"

His light tone conflicts with what you fear might be a scolding. You bite your lip and go to him. Kili starts after you, but Thorin stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

The three of you ascend to Elrond's library. You use the walk to cook up a somewhat coherent excuse. "We were just playing," you say desperately once Elrond turns to you. "Dwalin was teaching me to use a sword, and then Thorin said something he shouldn't have and I teased him, and then he chased me up a tree so I threw nuts at him, and then - "

"You are not in trouble," Elrond cuts you off with a much broader smile. "It's been a while since so much laughter has filled these halls."

Gandalf says, "Lord Elrond simply wishes to ask you a few questions."

"Oh. Oh. About the foresight?" you guess sheepishly.

"I only wish to understand you more. To perhaps share in your knowledge and give you some of mine in return."

You agree reluctantly, "I'll tell you what I can."

"Are there things you cannot tell me?"

"It's just...well, there are things I can't tell people because they need to happen as they will," you explain. "They're not very pleasant - I guess I can say that after we get into the mountains, we'll be captured by goblins. Obviously not the ideal way to spend an afternoon. Gandalf will come get us - you would have even if I hadn't mentioned it, Gandalf - and we'll get into even less enjoyable things after that. Sure, I could make sure we don't camp in that particular cave, but very important things happen during that time, so it needs to go on."

Elrond is frowning with deep thought now. "What will happen?"

You shake your head. "Can't say. You'll find out in about sixty years."

"Sixty years!"

"I'm sorry," you say meekly. "I'm not trying to play games or anything! But I was put here with specific knowledge, and I'm gonna use it to change the future for the better."

Gandalf and Elrond exchange loaded looks. You play with the hem of your shirt, wondering if you would be punished *now*. After a long silence, Elrond finally says without heat, "Alright."

"Okay? I'm not in trouble?"

"No. Though it is hard for me to trust - forgive me, but until the scene of earlier, I thought you a servant of darkness - I will believe you."

Your heart soars. You almost hug Elrond in a surge of affection. "Okay!" you say breathlessly. "Good! Thank you! In that case, let me make it up to you! There are a few things I can tell you that shouldn't lead to any major disasters!"

Elrond collects writing equipment. "I am sure we will be in your debt, Lady Aniel. I would have whatever you would reveal."

"Okay, here we go. Long ways down the line, we'll make it to Esgaroth. It'll be about a day's trip from there to Erebor. Unfortunately, we will wake Smaug."

Gandalf exclaims, "You know this for certain?" and Elrond's brow furrows.

"Yeah, that's set in stone. I'm going to tell Bard the same and see if he can evacuate Esgaroth to minimize casualties. Either way, Smaug won't be out for long - Bard kills him with the last black arrow, but not before Esgaroth is charred. This'll be almost in time or Mirkwood to lay siege to Erebor."

"Thranduil," Elrond sighs like he's not surprised.

"Thranduil's not the problem. By that time Azog will have his armies from Gundabad. It'll be us, the Men of Esgaroth, Dain Ironfoot, and Mirkwood against so, so many orcs." You speak in earnest now, for this is the exact reason you intend to brave the rest of this journey. "The battle will be awful. We'll nearly be overrun, but we manage. But Thorin - "

"What about Thorin?" Gandalf asks sharply.

Your voice wavers. "The honest truth is that I joined this quest to keep Thorin and Fili and Kili from dying on Ravenhill. If I did nothing, they would have died, and I c-couldn't - " You shake away the tears and press on. "Azog and Bolg would have killed the three of them before the battle's end. But I can't let that happen. I can't, not after he's come this far!"

Gandalf puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You feel silly crying in front of Elrond, but you can't help it. Sure, you sobbed like a baby when you saw Battle of the Five Armies, but that was just a movie. It's all real now, and the emotion is infinitely stronger.

"It's alright," Gandalf says gently, "no harm will come to Thorin. You've done well to tell us this. Now we can make our own preparations."

You swallow hard. You feel obligated now to help further and perhaps give yourself a better fighting chance in the future. "There's one more thing," you whisper. "The Necromancer in Dol Guldur - it's Sauron."

A chill wind blows through the open library. You wonder if you accidentally invoked some sort of Voldemort-like bad juju for saying the name.

"Impossible!" Elrond exclaims. "Sauron was vanquished. And what of this Necromancer?"

"Gandalf will explain it more when the White Council convenes. Saurman won't believe you, but Lady Galadriel will. But now that you know all this, you can't bring it up. You weren't supposed to know, but I wanted you to."

Elrond gazes at you for a long time, and you gaze right back, not bothering to hide how exhausting it's been to be the sole bearer of such heavy knowledge. Eventually he says quietly, "You have done us a great service, Lady Aniel. I will do what I can to aid Thorin Oakenshield in the battle for Erebor. Until then, I would request that you tell no one else what you have told us this day. If word of your knowledge fell into the wrong hands..."

You nod tiredly. "I get it. I can keep a secret."

"Please, return to your friends. Gandalf and I have much to talk about."

"Okay." You bow slightly and head for the warmth of the late afternoon sun. "Oh, one more question - when exactly is the White Council coming? I fancy one more hot bath before we go."