For a long while none of the Dwarves seemed to know quite what to do with themselves – surviving a Troll clan had that effect obviously.
"These Trolls can't have ventured so far from the mountains in the daylight," Gandalf mused, "there must be a cave nearby."
"But Trolls don't come this far south – they have not for an age." I blurted unthinkingly.
Gandalf chuckled grimly, "You are right, young one, they have not," He agreed, "But dark things are creeping throughout the realm, a shadow grows in the north and an evil infects these lands, my dear. I fear you shall encounter a good many more treacherous creatures before your journey's end, Veyra."
I sighed sadly, I had suspected that would be the case. "Then, we should look for the Troll hoard?" It had not meant to come out as a question, yet somehow my mouth had twisted it in such a way.
To my relief Gandalf understood. "What an excellent idea!" He crowed. "Get to it men, you heard the lady; we should look for the Troll hoard."
I sent him a grateful smile, which he accepted with a conspiratorial wink and a grin. We were put into groups, so as not to lose each other and end up alone. As usual, I was attached to the youngest Dwarves; as was becoming the pattern of things.
Kili and Fili's constant jesting made searching for the Troll's lair rather difficult, but nonetheless extremely entertaining. Not a moment went by without a teasing comment or jape, I even found myself joining in occasionally.
"Brother," Fili called mockingly from half-way up a tree, "Remind me again of the sound you made when Bilbo hit your chest," He implored jocularly. "Or Veyra, for that matter."
Kili laughed heartily, a small hint of pink clouding over his cheeks, "Probably one of disgust, after all; she does have parasites," He prodded me in the side.
"Well at least I don't have to prove I've got the biggest parasites," I shot back, Fili guffawing like a lunatic and Kili's face becoming yet still brighter.
"I think he's overcompensating for something…" Fili stage-whispered in my ear.
Kili threw his head back in defiance, "I can assure the both of you that I have nothing to compensate for in that department, thank you!"
"And which department would that be, Master Kili?" I chimed in mock innocence. A thrill of victory racing through my spine as I managed to elicit the deepest blush I had even witnessed grace the youngster's visage.
The Dwarf spluttered for a moment, feigning a cough in an attempt to cover how unexpected this retort had been to him. It was actually rather adorable; his nose crinkled and eyes wide with surprise gave him the countenance of a startled puppy and who in the world would have it in their hearts to not find that to be one of the cutest things imaginable? Not that I would ever intimate to him that comparison, nor anyone else for that matter. That would be a great embarrassment.
Kili's stuttering only came to an end when something foul hit our senses. An assault of the most malodourous and offensive scent came over us in a wall of potency. A sniff was enough to confirm that it could only mean that a Troll cave was in the vicinity. Unbelievably, it smelled far worse than the Trolls themselves; evidently they had lived there for a long while.
Fili lit a torch and was the first to investigate, followed by Kili whom forced me behind him as though he expected a legion of Trolls to leap from the bushes. No more than a meter from where they stood an outcrop of rocks concealed the entrance to the most grotesque and vile dwelling Niamh had ever witnessed; there were grubby loincloths lining the walls and filthy rage decorating the patchy and uneven floor of the cave, chunks of mouldering food lay under carpets of maggots, webs of spiders created veils that screened each new horror. Strewn about the cave were trunks and bags filled to bursting with gold and jewels and clothing and countless other treasures that seemed so out of place in such a rotting pit.
"I think I shall let you boys hunt through this mess and I'll find the others," I suggested, I had no idea how long I could withstand such a putrid surrounding.
"I think I shall join you," Kili piped immediately, pinching his nose in an attempt to block out the musky scent of eau de la Troll.
Fili scoffed, "Not so fast, little brother. If you leave, I shall be forced to take your share of this treasure as well as Veyra's." He taunted.
"You can have it!" I called back as I clambered from the cave as fast as I could.
I could tell Kili would not be accompanying me from the faint squabbling that could be heard from below.
Luckily – or unluckily, as it brought me back to the Troll's lair – it did not take very long to assemble the rest of the company; they has not strayed far for fear of losing each other or getting lost themselves. None of the other Dwarves seemed too perturbed by the smell nor the utter disarray of the cave as they plundered all they could carry from the Troll's stash. Only Bilbo shared my displeasure, completely refusing to enter for a long time; until he was all but dragged inside by an impatient Gandalf.
Fili was the first to emerge, his arms brimming with treasure; he dropped a large pile by my toes. "Are you sure you have enough there?" I prodded with a light chuckle.
"And more," He replied, dropping a little more. "I thought you could do with some though, something to show for the journey when you get home."
I gasped, "Really? But you said-"
"I was merely kidding, my lady, did you think I would allow you to help us find that pit and not reap the spoils?" He questioned, slightly affronted. "Of course not!" He answered in response to my shrugging. "You are one of us now, and we share whatever we find together."
"Thank you," I whispered, touched by the sentiment.
"Just don't tell Kili I gave you it," He sniggered, "Say it was Bilbo or Gandalf."
I shrugged, "Okay,"
Fili helped me store what coins and silvers I could in my small bag, thankfully most of it went in without complaint and the residual treasures fit easily inside my cloak pockets.
"I trust you do not require a sword, my lady," Gandalf snickered, sidling up alongside me as one by one the Dwarves emerged, each desperately requiring a bath after digging around in such a filth ridden lair.
I giggled, "I would rather keep to a blade that does not carry the stench of a thousand rotting things," It was true; each knife, sword and dagger drawn from the hoard gave off a pungent whiff of Troll, it would not do to carry that around with me; I fear I will smell quite revolting enough by the time I return home without a ghastly odorous blade sheathed at my hip. Besides I had enough weapons as it was.
"No," The wizard agreed, "You already have weapons you can use with skill," He commented with a wink. "You have your mother's style, she taught you well."
"Thank you, she was the best sword-maiden in all of the Shire. That's not exactly remarkable though, there never have been many a weapon-wielding Hobbit, male or female." I remarked.
Gandalf sniggered, "Probably wise, those little-folk would likely be a most fearsomely deadly race if they were all of them armed and trained. It is a frightening notion to say to least!"
This time we laughed in unison. Indeed, the mere idea of an army of tiny Hobbits was both amusing and unnerving; such gentle souls did not suit the armour and hostility of an army, it just seemed down right out of place what with their features most naturally inclined to a lazy grin.
The wizard shifted the topic, "And how are you finding the Company? They are a rowdy bunch, but a more loyal lot you would be hard pressed to find."
"They are agreeable," I answered scanning the group until my eyes landed on a certain Dwarf, "Most of them at least."
Gandalf followed my gaze knowingly, "Thorin is stubborn and not at all accustomed to the company of females on quests, nor females in any case generally," That did not necessarily make me feel any better, the Dwarf leader barely knew me and already he had acquired a disliking to me. "But he will realise his foolishness in no time, child." Gandalf assured with a chuckle, "Especially if his nephew has anything to do with the matter."
I blanched, "I have not the slightest idea of what you speak." I hedged, by not I was sure to be glowing magenta. There was no room for mistaking as to what Gandalf had meant; the youngest Dwarf had certainly taken a shine to me, but did I really have the time for friendship when we were on such an important mission?
The wizard sniggered knowingly, but said nothing; which was just as well, for Bilbo and Dwalin had deigned to join us where we sat on an overturned log. They were bickering with furious politeness about whether it would be better to bury the rest of the treasure or leave it in the cave.
"If it sits there others will come and plunder everything we found!" Dwalin argued.
Bilbo huffed indignantly, "Isn't that what we have just done?! Besides, no one in their right mind would wish to investigate such a horrid stench." He countered.
They continued on like this for some time, eventually deciding to bury a little of it and leave the rest to chance, whilst stuffing as many of the treasures as would fit into their bags and pockets, even their beards. It was surprising how much space they were able to find when it came to storing precious gems and gold, it would seem there was no end to the ingenuity of Dwarves when it came to storing treasure. I struggled to believe how much of it they had actually found, but Dwalin assured me repeatedly that this load was a mere rain drop in comparison to the seas of gold and diamond and gems and metals of Erebor – even to imagine that amount of treasure made me feel dizzy. What could one hope to do with that amount? I should think it would end up as clutter, no one could possibly organise and store such oceans tidily, surely it would just get in the way and be a nuisance? I think I might refuse any share, I could not think of anywhere to put one fifteenth of an ocean in my little bedchamber back home; I certainly did not have enough drawer space nor did I have enough room in my closet. I suppose I could share in with all the little Tooks, they might appreciate it.
We resumed our march by midday, all of us glad to leave behind us the scent of Troll and eager to put as many leagues as possible between ourselves and the stone creatures for fear of there being more around – if there was one group, why not more? It was arduous work after the night's adventures, what with rope burns and bruises abundant throughout the company and the lack of sleep (for none had slept this night) ensured that everyone was sore and irritable, the treasure having only lifted their spirits briefly.
After a few leagues of forest and muted conversations, voices rose from the top of the column.
"I would not set foot amongst that filth for as long as I draw breath!" Thorin boomed, clearly outraged. "They did not come to our aid in times past and they will not now."
Gandalf responded with exasperation, "You are not your ancestors, nor are these the same kind!" Evidently the wizard found the Dwarven leader to be obtuse. "They will gift us with rest and nourishment both of which your men could well do with before we tackle those!" The wizard indicated something up ahead that I could not yet see.
The company came to an abrupt halt as they all saw whatever it was Gandalf had indicated. I pushed past each Dwarf that obstructed my view and I too was stunned by the sight. Ahead, peeking through an archway of branches was the horizon and at the base of that, lay hope. A cluster of magnificent mountains crowded below the sinking sun, orange and grey in the evening light. Clearly they were not the Lonely Mountain, for there were more than one; but if my knowledge of maps is to be trusted, then we were heading in the right direction. The Misty Mountains would be treacherous to cross over for a certainty, and yet none of us could muster an ounce of dread at the thought tired as we were.
"We could certainly do with a rest before we ride that road," Balin chuckled, dissipating the stupefaction of the Company.
"A few years ought to do it," Suggested Bilbo.
The Company barked into laughter, assuming Bilbo to be joking; the look on the Hobbit's face told another story. Poor Baggins really did not wish to be on this journey at all and quite rightly too, I was not overly fond of the thought of my cousin seeing the dark creatures and times that Gandalf seemed so adamant we were to face before the quest ended.
Thorin bristled. "The wizard would have us crawling to Elves of all creatures! He would see us grovelling like peasants for scraps of food and trading our secrets for a bale of hay on which to sleep!"
One by one, each Dwarf showed their disapproval through violent gestures or words – mostly Khuzdul – that portrayed a definite distaste for Elves that I could not understand. I made a mental note to ask about this grievance later.
Gandalf met my confused gaze and rolled his eyes. "They will do no such thing!" He boomed over the complaints of some of the other Dwarves who seemed to think a rest with Elves would be worse than facing Smaug. The air seemed to become thicker, darker, and harsher on the lungs. Gandalf, too, appeared darker and harsher than he had been a moment ago, he grew taller as he glowered down upon any Dwarf who looked like he may still disagree. "Lord Elrond will take care of you all as equals, he has no quarrel with you."
"Lord Elrond?" I recognised that name from one of Old Took's tales, "Of Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea?"
"And West of the Mountains. The very same," Gandalf nodded approvingly, returning to normal, some of the Dwarves seemed less wary somehow in the belief that this Elf-lord was known in parts of the world where danger was a story by the firelight and nothing more. "Rivendell is where we will go and that is an end of it."
There would be no arguing with Gandalf once he had set his mind to a path; that was made abundantly clear. Not that I really had the heart to; a rest was exactly what this bruised bunch needed, even if it was with the Elves. I had always wanted to see a real Elven city anyway. Elves often used to pass through the Shire, though they seldom did of late, and it was always a magical treat to behold their beauty and hear their songs – even though they sung mostly in Elvish tongues, I imagined they told stories of great deeds and noble quests and everything that was good and right in the world. I had not heard an Elf-song for near ten years now (a half of my entire life!) and to hear them sing again would lift the spirits of each Dwarf, of that I was sure.
All the tales of Lord Elrond painted him to be as wise as the highest wizard, as gentle as the smallest Shire-folk, as just as the most worthy of Kings and as fair as the first morning of summer. It would be a tale to tell back home to meet him in person, just as Old Took had! Thorin could send me home as he wished, as long as I had the privilege to see the Elf-lord first.
Slowly Thorin grumbled his assent and the troop followed the wizard, some more reluctantly than others; Oin and Gloin still had their concerns, but they kept their complaints under their breath and Gandalf pretended he did not notice their disquiet.
The forest had dissolved into plains of long grasses, sprinkled with large outcroppings of rocks and a few sparse tree copses; none of which bore any ripe fruit, to the disappointment of a Hobbit and half Hobbit whom were both accustomed to a seven meals a day (not including snacks) instead of the few berries we had each eaten that morning. All the while Gandalf described Rivendell as a hidden refuge. Hidden for their defense, remarked the wizard when Balin suggested they might ambush our party should they fancy. I doubted they would, it seemed nonsensical to me for them to attack us without a given reason, even if we were an abnormally large group travelling their way, surely the wise Lord Elrond would greet us cordially. That is, unless one of the Dwarves offends him, which I hope for their sake they do not. Elves are remarkably fair-tempered, but they are not forgiving once scorned – or so the Old Took used to tell my cousins and myself.
It had long since passed nightfall when Gandalf brought us to a halt beside one cluster of rocks and stone, which I noted were slightly lighter in colour than the others we had passed and of a coarser, grainier texture. Gandalf had not stopped more than a moment when he darted behind the rocks, quicker than I would have dreamed the old man capable. He was gone, utterly evaporated into thin air!
"Elf treachery!" Thorin asserted in an angered cry.
"Stay back, lassie! It could be dangerous!" Dwalin barked in warning as we collectively worked our way around the stones and forced me toward the back of our cluster. Each Dwarf examined every pebble, I suppose as miners they were experts in this sort of thing. I did my best to peer over their heads (jumping on many occasions) to see where the wizard could have gone to. At last I saw it.
"Look," I pointed, "Stairs!"
There they were, between the two largest obstacles was a cramped and steep stairwell, dimly lit from within, it would doubtless be a long fall should anyone not pay careful attention to where they stepped in such poor light.
"After you then," Fili smirked, granting me a mocking bow and gestured for me to pass him. The others made a clear path for me.
I folded my arms, "What happened to 'stay back' and 'it could be dangerous?'" I demanded petulantly, I would never admit to any of these men that I was a little nervous about going ahead of everyone else, nevertheless I was.
"Ladies first." Thorin put forward coldly. There was no hint of joking in his voice, clearly it was an order and not a suggestion. No doubt he would not allow any of his men to brave the stairwell until I had given them the all clear. He really did not like me, he probably preferred the Elves to myself. In that case the feeling was mutual.
I forced myself to stride confidently past the other Dwarves. I would not be beaten by the leader who called himself a king; he was not my king, he had not earned the right to be my king. I made certain to bump Thorin's shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs, he deserved to know that I had about as much respect for him as he did for me.
I took a breath to steady myself, the stairway was steeper from the top than it had appeared when I was not to be the first to venture down them. Unseen by the others, who seemed unable to watch my descent, a hand wrapped itself around one of my own. I did not need to look to know who it belonged to; the pressure was familiar to me, even though I had only felt it once before and then there had been a purse of coins between the most-part of our flesh.
Kili gave my palm a gentle squeeze. "I'll be right behind you." He vowed in a voice so low, I doubt even Elvish hearing would have managed to pick it up. I squeezed his hand back and with that he let go, the ghost of his palm still holding on to my own.
The first step was the hardest, after that it was a case of using the sandstone bricks in the walls to steady myself and squint in the vague orange glow of the torches so as to see each new step. The stairwell went on for far longer than I had thought and every footfall of mine echoed on and on. Eventually I hit the final stair and was left in a narrow hallway from what little I could see of it; the light from the stairs was the only thing that penetrated the inky blackness and that did not count for much.
"I had guessed you would be the first," came a voice from the dark.
I leaped back in surprise as Gandalf lit his staff before me. However, I was startled again as I hit a solid wall that I was sure had not been behind me, were not the stairs still at my back? The answer was yes, and no. The stairs were behind me, but there was something, someone rather, betwixt myself and said stairs.
Kili. Of course. Had he not vowed he would be behind me? I had not taken his word quite so literally. I could not deny being incredibly relieved to find him there, if not a little miffed that he seemed to think me too delicate to go down alone, it was touching for someone to actually care about my safety though. Kili sniggered at my shock, but patted my shoulder reassuringly.
"Last Dwarf to make it down is a girl!" Kili called up the stairs, "No offence," He added to me in an afterthought.
I laughed, "Not at all," I grinned.
Soon every Dwarf had descended from the surface, with Bilbo ensuring he came just before Nori, he certainly did not wish to be a girl. Poor Nori endured many a jape from the others as he joined lastly.
"We should not linger any longer," Gandalf said, "Our host will not appreciate us hiding away in his front porch." He snickered, "Onwards!" The wizard led the way once more, his illuminated staff was greatly useful as we traversed the uneven floor of the corridor.
A sudden burst of sun vanquished the need for the staff and blinded our Company for a brief moment, the light was so pure and brilliant it took one a moment to become used to it. Before them lay the Valley of Imladris in all of its glory. The hallway emerged onto a platform as large as any great hall and perfectly circular that gave a view of the entire valley. All around there were beautiful homes almost carved into the valley's sides, perched delicately above majestic waterfalls with stairways that twisted around and behind each one to every house and hall. At the bottom could be seem a fantastic market and arena, scattered with great halls and gardens and statues; all designed by gods from marble and precious stones. I had never witnessed a more beautiful place to live. How the Old Took had ever wanted to return to the Shire after so many visits here, I could not comprehend.
At the far end of the platform stood Lord Elrond himself. The Old Took had not lied, or so it would seem. Our host appeared elegant, knowing and handsome beyond words. He had intelligent hazel eyes, filled with the wisdom and thought of the world; his face both young and old, but without a hint of ageing; hair so dark and thick and perfect it made me curse my own tangled dirty-blonde locks; he wore the robes of a lord with the ease of breathing as he glided soundlessly across the stone to meet us.
"Welcome, friends, to the city of Rivendell." Elrond spoke with the fluidity of water, in an accent that I recalled as a child. It was a friendly, comforting tone that spoke of warm hearths, good wine and pleasurable company. Or maybe that is how I associate it, given that that is how I often saw the Elves as a child, though obviously I never tasted any of that good wine.
"Lord Elrond," Gandalf greeted warmly.
"Mithrandir," Elrond returned, taking the wizards outstretched hand and clasping it between both of his own. "It is good to see you again, though it is a troubling time for you to bring friends. We too have foreseen the Great Shadows."
Gandalf smiled wanly. "Indeed, times are most uncertain, but we will be of little inconvenience, I can promise you."
Elrond glanced to our Company. "Thorin, son of Thrain, it is a pleasure to house you and your people in our city, please enjoy your stay." Thorin nodded a thank you that did not seem at all sincere and yet it pleased the Elf enough to move on. It was unnerving how the Elf knew each name and story without being told, but that was the way of Elves, especially the Seers. "It is good to welcome Shirelings once more in Imladris, master Bilbo and Miss Veyra. We have not had visitors of your kind since Donnamira's passing. We are sorry for your loss." He looked genuinely saddened.
"You knew my mother?" I could not help the question leaving my lips, she had never told me that she had ever been to Rivendell before.
Elrond smiled solemnly. "For a time. She did not leave the Shire so often once you were born. She had sent word that she would bring you to see us on your last Birthday, but alas…"
I nodded, but gave no verbal response. What could I possibly say? Nothing would have been better than to have experienced this Elven paradise with my mother, but it was not to be. Strangely, not a single tear crept to my eyes. She would not have wanted them to, but I felt oddly empty to be in this place without her when, if things had only gone to plan, it would have been her to see the wonder on my face as I looked upon this magnificent valley for the first time and not some rowdy rabble of Dwarves. At least I had my cousin here with me. Bilbo may not seem much to the others, but he was family to me; and family means everything.
"Come," Elrond ordered gently, "You will be hungry. Amin anta lle apsa ar serya."
Bofur spat at the floor angrily. "The Elf means to show us insult!"
Gandalf rapped him over the head with his staff. "You great buffoon!" He chided. "Lord Elrond has offered you all a good meal and some rest!"
"And we should be glad to receive it," Bilbo assured he lord, ever one for politeness Bilbo always remembered his courtesies.
We were lead down another hidden stair into a grand dining hall, lined with benches and long tables and, most importantly, festooned with the most amazing array of foods imaginable. There were fresh breads and jams of every berry I had ever known and more besides; cooked meats and smoked cheese; platters spilling with foreign fruits and vegetables that I could tell none of the Company (Gandalf aside) had ever seen in their lives; and soft juices and rich wines and strong hardy ales lined each table in ornamented pitchers ad jugs. Even a Hobbit would have trouble devouring everything before us and yet we all managed slightly more than a healthy portion each; though Bilbo may have eaten plenty more than most, he was easily outstripped by Bombur who ate whole wheels of cheese to himself and nearly half a wild boar. We would certainly sleep well tonight.
When the night did come calling, our host showed us to a long cabin that held inside enough beds to house a Company twice their size. Gandalf was conspicuously absent. The beds had an inviting looking feather pillow and soft duvet each that yearned to be snuggled in.
"I can find other lodgings for you if you are uncomfortable sleeping with the men." Elrond put in whilst we all found the beds we wanted.
Thorin scowled, "I will stay with my men." He asserted. "Thank you," He added in an attempt at politeness.
"Forgive me," Elrond implored, though his eyes spoke that he did not desire any forgiveness from the Dwarf leader. "I had meant Veyra, being that she is female…"
Thorin's face was a picture, if only I could capture it forever. The look of affront and embarrassment was delicious. He stomped away grumbling about respect.
"I thank you for your kindness, but I would be lost in a room alone after my travels, my Lord." I answered. It was true, I could be just as polite as Bilbo when I was so inclined. The Elf permitted me an understanding nod and excused himself.
As I lay in my bed I pondered on just why I had said no. Did it have anything to do with what I had said, or was it more to do with the fact that Kili had chosen the bed next to mine? On the one hand, the thought of being completely alone – of silence – frightened me no end; these noisy Dwarves had desensitised me to their racket and now the quiet was a sign of danger and worry to me. On the other hand, I could not tell what I really thought about Kili; he made me laugh and blush all the time, and he seems to want to look after me – more so than the others at any rate – and he is good looking. For a Dwarf. Not that I would tell him that, he probably still thinks I am a mere child as all the others do.
The Elvish in this chapter is from a translator so if it is complete nonsense to those who can actually read it, then i apologise.
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