Gandalf led Bilbo down the hill to where a stout grey pony and chestnut horse stood. They whickered softly as the grey wizard approached. From his pockets he produced a carrot that he broke in half for his hooved companions. When they were finished munching their treat Gandalf leapt upon his steed with practiced measure. He waited patiently while Bilbo clambered with less speed onto his own mount. The light sound of hooves stepping on grass was scarcely heard above the routine sounds of Hobbiton waking up. Bilbo felt the judgemental eyes of many inhabitants upon him as he and Gandalf meandered through town. Heedless of them he marched on and his smile only grew larger as he drew farther away from his home.
The pair made for Buckland, where they joined Bilbo's cousin Drogo and his wife Primula at Brandy Hall, where Gorbadoc Brandybuck welcomed them graciously. From there, they traveled to Bree, and were met by Barliman Butterbur at the Inn of the Prancing Pony. There they rested for only one night before continuing along the Great East Road. There is not much to be said about this leg of their journey; it was a peaceful time in the west of Middle-Earth during Third Age and the greatest inconvenience was the occasional downpour. The ache of well-worn muscles had once seemed dreadful to Bilbo, but now the familiar sensation was satisfying.
It was not long before they came upon the Ford of Bruinen, which meant they were near the fair valley of Imladris. The hobbit was once again thankful that he had Gandalf to lead the way, for it was not easy to find an entrance to Rivendell. Slowly they followed the white-stone path, glad for the sunlight that facilitated their navigation of the zig-zag route into the hidden valley. The pair was met by the lovely smell of pine trees that eventually heeded to beech and oak trees. Bilbo thought it impossible to be unhappy in such a place as this. Blithe though he was, his heart still panged, for his most memorable visit to Rivendell thus far had been with Thorin. Bilbo tried to push thoughts of his late friend from his mind and instead focus on the melodious sounds that now reached his ears.
They meandered without much speed through the valley until they reached the Last Homely House East of the Sea and Lord Elrond. Their equine companions stepped lighter and seemed to their masters to be refreshed simply by being in this glorious place. After riding some distance though the valley they dismounted and lead their horse and pony the rest of the way. When Elrond was alerted that Gandalf and Bilbo had arrived, he walked out to meet them. He was flanked by two elves that bore striking resemblance to one another and to Lord Elrond. They had long dark hair and piercing grey eyes that mirrored the features of the half-elven friend of Gandalf. Bilbo recognized them as Elrohir and Elladan, whom he had met on his return journey from Erebor.
"Mithrandir!" Elrond called in greeting. "Ni veren an gi ngovaned, mellon.*" (see author's note at the end of text for translations to English). He quickly embraced his old friend then stooped to hug the hobbit as well. "Welcome once again Bilbo Baggins!"
Bilbo smiled at their host. "Thank you! It is a great pleasure that I should look upon your fair land again."
Elrond nodded affably at the hobbit, then speaking to the elves beside him he said, "Elrohir, Elladan, pray find Lobor to care for Rusc and the little grey pony." Evidently, the chestnut horse of Gandalf had met with the beauty of Rivendell prior to this visit, for Elrond knew his name. Fox in Sindarin, because his chestnut coat gleamed rusty-red in the sun.
Merry-making and singing could be heard throughout as they wandered the corridors of Imladris. Bilbo caught the distinct sound of Lindir's voice carry through the air as they passed the Hall of Fire. Bilbo found himself mesmerized by the many wonders that Rivendell had to offer. The architecture was beautiful beyond comprehension and the lovely smells that wafted on warm breezes could lull anyone to a state of serenity. The cool marble floors felt pleasant on the travel-worn soles of Bilbo's feet, and already much of his weariness was lifted. The hobbit closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the sound of water cascading down the mountainside.
The Valley of Imladris was truly magnificent. And, as it turns out, most distracting, for when Bilbo became present once again he found himself in the hall of Lord Elrond. A table with a large feast was spread out and a number of elves flitted about, seating themselves in anticipation of the feast. Elrond sat himself in his great chair at the end of the long table. On one side sat Glorfindel of Rivendell, next to him sat Elrohir and Elladan –Bilbo could not tell them apart, but it mattered little since they were seldom separated. On the other side of Elrond sat Gandalf, and next to Gandalf sat Bilbo. There were numerous other elves seated at the table that Bilbo made the acquaintance of. There also was a man, whom the elves called the Dúnadan. A mysterious fellow though he was, Bilbo felt he must be good; apart from his stern decorum, the Dúnadan was evidently favoured by the elves.
Bilbo did not get another chance to ponder the Dúnadan, for after supper he found himself exclusively in the company of Gandalf and Lord Elrond. They gathered on an open balcony that overlooked the mountains, falls, trees, and green land that comprised the valley. Ancient wisdom emanated from all living things within the valley, for there was something to be said of a place that has endured peace for nigh on two ages. Even as stars began to shine like pinpricks of light in the heavens above, the jovial sounds of jocund elves could be heard throughout Rivendell. Bilbo was not thinking of the elves of Rivendell though; his thoughts were entirely consumed with Thorin Oakenshield. Surely, he thought, surely Balin does not send word to me for matters concerning Thorin. But of what other matters would be urgent to me? Why make haste to Erebor? Why me? He tried to puzzle out the letter, as he had for much of their journey thus far. Hither and thither I go in search of you, even if it's only in my mind. But here I am, perfectly outside my mind searching for you. Bilbo sighed, and then realized that the eyes of his friends were on him.
"Lost in thought, Master Baggins?" Gandalf grinned at him.
Bilbo had not realized it, so consumed by quandaries surrounding Thorin and the letter, but he had been ignoring his friend and dear host. "Terribly sorry! You must think it awfully rude of me. It seems my mind, much like myself these days, has a habit to wander." He laughed thinly, a wane attempt to mask his pensive mood.
Lord Elrond smiled at Bilbo with empathy, for he knew his heart to be troubled. "Tell us, Master Hobbit, what is it that lays claim to your attention, if not us."
"I think of our journey ahead, but I should dare not think of what I hope to find at its end," answered Bilbo.
"Dare not, but do," Elrond raised an eye at him.
"Hmm, yes," replied Bilbo, a sad smile ghosted his lips. "All I have is hope. Hope, perhaps, that my senses were cheated by some evil nightmare and I will travel to find my dear friend waiting for me."
Although it had never been explicitly stated in his company, Bilbo assumed that Gandalf had informed Elrond of the purpose of their venture east. It was, after all, the sons of Elrond who delivered the letter to its final messenger. Elrond was wise and the experience of innumerable years had taught him to read people as plainly as a book. Knowing this quality of his friend, Bilbo figured that Elrond could have guessed their plans even without the help of words. That being said, Elrond could deduce a great number of things from their interaction that Gandalf had not revealed in so many words; he knew that beyond all reason Bilbo allowed himself to think that Thorin might be alive, for he would not have made this journey if there had not been some doubt to the finality of Thorin Oakenshield. He knew that his friend cared deeply for the assumed-deceased dwarf, and when he thought too deeply of said dwarf he would worry his lip and trace circles on this inside of his wrist.
Elrond felt a great sadness for his friend. He recalled his own sorrows for Celebrían and his heart ached two-fold. He offered no words of comfort, for there were none. He rested his hand on Bilbo's small shoulder in a show of solidarity in heartache. After a moment Elrond said, "I can offer you my sympathy, but little else in healing those wounds. However, Bilbo Baggins, elf-friend, there is one thing I can offer you; while it may not shield you from grief, it shall deliver you faster on your errantry. But come! Rest first, for night is spread out against the sky. On the morrow we shall speak again and you will meet your aide."
Indeed, the unwatched evening had turned to night. Bilbo allowed himself to be led to his room. He was very tired and succumbed to sleep more rapidly than he had in quite a long time. When he awoke the next day he learned that it would not be -as Elrond had said- the day that they would speak again as they had the previous night. No, three days more would follow before the hobbit and the wizard made to leave Rivendell. Only then did Elrond reveal his offer to Bilbo.
Feeling rejuvenated and very much ready to continue on their way, Bilbo and Gandalf followed Lord Elrond to where their horse and pony were awaiting them. Except when they met their equine companions, they found Rusc there, but not the grey pony that Bilbo had been riding. Instead, there stood a short horse (only 15.1 hands high, but still incredibly tall to a hobbit). Slight she was in body, but sinewy muscle was apparent. Her long elegant legs bore black stockings that melted at the knee with the rich mahogany brown of the rest of her coat. Her black mane and tail glistened like obsidian in the early morning sunshine. Her eyes were kind and full of knowing, not unlike those of Lord Elrond, but deep hazel in hue.
"Here you meet your aide, Master Baggins. This is Rochaewen – horse of birds, for when she runs it is with the swiftness and grace of a bird in flight. Fleet-footed she will bear you to Erebor," Elrond explained.
"My sincerest gratitude be unto you, Lord Elrond!" Bilbo bowed low to the half-elven Lord, for this was a lofty gift indeed.
"Upon the backs of the clever fox and the swift bird your journey shall progress as haste demand and how it otherwise would not be permitted," Elrond spoke to Gandalf and Bilbo. Then, turning to Rochaewen he said, "Na lû ni a-goveninc, mellon. Galo Anor erin râd gîn*." He placed his hand on her neck and she turned to press her head gently against his chest. They were great friends and Elrond was sad to see her leave, but he was not one to hoard friends to guard against a heavy heart. "Fare thee well, my friends!" And with that, Bilbo and Gandalf set off astride Rusc and Rochaewen.
Author's Note: I am so grateful to everyone who is taking the time to reading this! Cheers all :)
Many thanks to Real Elvish .net (FFN won't let me put a link up for some reason...) whence some of the Sindarin translation came.
Here are translations that were not explained in the main body of text.
*Ni veren an gi ngovaned, mellon – I am happy to meet you again, my friend.
*Na lû ni a-goveninc, mellon Galo Anor erin râd gîn.– Until we meet again, my friend. May the sun shine upon your path.