What's up party people? Thank thank THANK you for the reviews! This chapter was one of the first few chapters I saw in my head before writing my story, and it's (kinda) where my title 'A Light in Arda' came from! That was over a year ago, so the writing may be a bit juvenile. Also, I changed the "lunch" from last chapter to "dinner". So you don't get confused, lol. Credit goes to ~elegaer on deviantART for her drawing "The Lamps of the Valar" for my inspiration for the Book's cover. It's not colorful like that, since it was etched into a deep red book cover.

Enjoy :D And let me know if there are any spelling/grammar errors!!!

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"I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars."

— Og Mandino

~Chapter 17~

Capturing the Light

I watch the steam rising in mysterious swirls as I soak in the hot grey water. Yeah, it's grey. Someone should have hosed me down before I got in, because I immediately ruined it. I don't want to bother anyone while they prepare dinner though, so I deal with it.

Life is such a fragile thing, I think to myself while staring in a daze at the misty particles floating up into the air.

Over the past three days, I've faced three life-threatening scenarios, and my mind is struggling to process them. In this rare moment of silence, my thoughts are my only company. Like the steam from the bath, they swirl in a panic of 'what ifs' and 'whys.' The wargs were a horrible deviation from the original plot. They weren't supposed to be here, just like I'm not supposed to be here.

I've always lived a sheltered life, protected from the world's darker aspects. Some would say I'm naive, and they're right. The horrors of abuse, murder, and drugs always shocked me. I didn't even watch scary movies growing up! I always had a roof over my head and plenty to eat. Despite my family sometimes arguing and fighting like ravenous wolves, we loved each other just as fiercely. I didn't drink, didn't party. I was boring and unoriginal, in my opinion. A classic Mary Sue.

But now, it's as if an invisible safety bubble that always protected me has burst. I feel different. Violated, almost. Running for my life has changed something fundamental inside me- an innocence that I didn't know I still had. I was worried when I was hypothermic, fearful while hiding from the trolls, but I was absolutely terrified as I lay underneath a monster breathing on my face. I had told Gandalf I wasn't afraid of any of those things, and at the time, I wasn't. Not until death came up to me, close and personal, and smiled its pointy-toothed smile did I finally and truly face my own mortality. Now...I'm very afraid.

Tears well up. I don't know if it's delayed shock from the stressful past few days or what, but I quickly exit the muddy bathwater, not wanting to accidentally inhale any of it as I start to gasp. I grab the nearby towel as the tears and panic come.

After searching through the pack on the bed, I find my cellphone. The cold metal grounds me as I clutch it in my hand and weep.

Gandalf had told me not to put too much stock into the story, but the story had made me feel safe until now. It helped me know what came next and what steps I needed to take. Many things would be different, he had said.

What if I don't make it?

A tear splashes onto my cellphone's smooth glass, and I wipe it away, wondering again what will happen to me if I die. Will I go back to my world? How does this whole situation even work? What are the laws and rules that this universe goes by? How am I supposed to know what to do before it's too late?

And with that, my thoughts drift to Thorin. How am I supposed to help him when I can't even help myself, I think as I wipe at my face. He's such a complicated guy; arrogant, stubborn, and distrustful. But he's also the bravest soul I know. Every breath he takes is devoted to caring for others in the company, including me. He's a leader with a capital L.

One that may very well die before too long because the Valar dropped an air-headed woman into Middle Earth to help his quest.

I try to cry harder, but with every gasp, I breathe in the delicious smell of Rivendell, which seems to breathe life into the very cells of my body. And the bathwater I had soaked in must hold some sort of healing minerals in it because my muscles feel relaxed and don't ache after all the running. I'm not able to cry for as long as I want, but after having my little cry, I do feel better. All that oxygen has gone to my head and made me feel calmer.

I find myself with the urge to find the others. I don't want to be alone with this crippling doubt. Besides, I feel safe with Thorin and I know that he is probably panicking right now too. We need to talk.

I grab a blue dress out of my pack, deciding to try and look nice even though it's impossible around elves. My dresses have remained out of sight this whole trip since I've been trying to fit in with the bros. I avoided anything that made me too girly. I like this particular dress though, because the hem is a lot longer than normal for hobbits, which means that it somewhat fits me. I walk out my door, and once more, the architecture holds me in its thrall as I ease along the breezeways, feeling the beautiful sun spread its warm rays along the valley.

I set out to find my company, following the faint sound of rowdy laughter. I turn the corner only to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. Faster than I can blink, I whirl back the way I had come and turn the corner again. They were swimming naked in a fountain. I couldn't recognize any of them from how far away they are, but I could tell they were having a good time. How can they be laughing and playing when we almost died? Perhaps, this is their coping method?

Still. I start snorting into my hand as I try to keep my laughs quiet as I walk back the way I'd come. I can't believe they decided to go stripping where literally ANYONE can see them when they had been so modest and bashful while in their underwear. They probably did it to irritate the elves.

The arched hallways, the wispy gazebos, and the surrounding forests are thoroughly enjoyed while I wait for them to finish. Each sight further cements the architectural style of this place into my mind.

An hour later, I find myself strolling away from Rivendell down a stone pathway adjacent to the mountain, letting out a blissful sigh of contentment. Everywhere I turn, I am greeted by magnificent sights and unique things.

The stone path seems to wrap around the mountain, and I walk along, feeling a huge amount of energy and vibrancy, like I'm a child again. The path leads further down the valley where there are no waterfalls. White pine trees spread further down the slopes of the valley and contrary to the name, white pines aren't white, but they smell amazing.

Softly, I find myself smiling, the beauty of Rivendell washing away my worries and I start humming "Fairytale" by Taylor Swift.

As I continue along the trail, my eyes catch something that steals my breath away. Balanced precariously on a slender rock that stretches down to the valley floor below, is a magnificent white gazebo. Almost like a tiny house, floating in the air. It appears to be delicately connected to the side of the valley cliffs by a natural stone bridge. The beauty of it fills me with both excitement and trepidation. It definitely isn't 'clumsy-human friendly', with the thin bridge connecting to it. However, the desire to experience the beautiful view temporarily outweighs my fear of falling. Continuing to sing softly to myself, I cautiously make my way toward the gazebo, determined to see what's inside. Each step is taken with utmost care as I climb up to it and then traverse the narrow stone bridge, finally entering the enchanting structure. Standing inside, I gaze out of the window, devoid of glass. The sight before me leaves me frozen in astonishment. The gazebo, positioned on this rocky island separate from the cliffside, grants me an unobstructed panoramic view of the path I had just traversed.

Seen from this angle, Rivendell appears even more magical. The entire valley stretches out before me, as if offering itself to my feet. I can see that the buildings of Rivendell are held up above the mountainside with stilt-like stone columns. The whole effect gives the impression that Rivendell is floating above the earth. The waterfalls that fall all around the valley, especially the ones flowing underneath Rivendell, add to the illusion. Rivendell is beautiful in its symbolism; that it is in the world but not of the world. In a way, it has transcended the mundane things of this life.

"I see you have found my island of rumination," Lord Elrond's calm voice startles me, and I whirl around. He is sitting in a chair beside a small table with a pale yellow book in his hand and a glass of wine in the other. A light plate of cut fruit, meat, and cheese has been set out for him. I hadn't even noticed him when coming in!

"I'm so sorry, uh, my Lord, for intruding on you! I'll leave you in peace," I try to say in as respectful and elvish manner as possible, backing away to go. He must have come here for solitude from the dwarves' rude and obnoxious behavior before we have dinner tonight.

"Remain awhile," he beckons with a wry, enigmatic smile as he sets aside his wine. "You have journeyed far, after all."

I get the feeling he doesn't just mean the precarious path here from Rivendell.

"Thank you," I nod, not sure what to say to such an intimidating figure. All through the Lord of the Rings movies, I didn't like him much. Mostly it was because he seemed so stern all the time, his eyebrows giving him the constant impression of anger. I also didn't like that he had tried to trick Arwen into leaving Middle Earth by hiding the possibility of her son from him. Or, rather, he will try to trick Arwen into leaving Middle Earth?

Speaking of…

"Where's Arwen?" I ask, wondering why I haven't seen her as I wandered around this whole time.

He studies me momentarily, his gaze inquisitive. "She currently resides with her kin in Lothlórien. Her visits to them occur every other decade or so."

"Oh," I say, nodding. Darn it. It would have been amazing to meet her.

Lord Elrond continues to regard me with an inscrutable expression for a moment before gesturing toward a chair opposite him at the table. "Come, sit."

I stare in surprise. Have a chat with THE Lord Elrond? I wring my hands nervously for a moment, realizing that I messed up. Of course he'd be curious how a human woman that he's never met from another world knows his daughter!

I nod, "Uh, ok. Thank you, Lord Elrond." I hesitantly come and sit on his other side.

"Would you care for some food?" He courteously offers, indicating the plate of fruit, meat, and cheese between us.

"Uh, yes, thank you. Just a little." I AM very hungry but I'm nervous. I take one small grape and pop it into my mouth. My eyes widen. The grape tastes like pure grape juice! It's so full of sugary liquid and tastes so delicious that I grab another one. And then another. And another. I can't remember the last time I had tasted grapes so good! In my world, they always seem so sour...

I glance over at Lord Elrond, who is studying me with a calm expression. Do all elves wear that expression?

I clear my throat, embarrassed for a second, but decide to study him back. He's different in person than I expected.

"Gandalf has told me of your peculiar origins. How did you and Arwen become acquainted with each other?" he asks casually, reaching for another grape. It seems like he is trying to make me feel at ease, and it's working.

"Well, I've never actually met her," I admit honestly, feeling that he deserves nothing less. "I've heard about her, and I know that she'll….she'll have a very interesting future."

"Really?" he calmly questions, taking another grape. I follow suit.

"Yeah, she'll find true love, save some important people, and have a very happy life." I provide the very bare minimum and quickly change the subject before he can ask me how I know what I know. "So, um, what's with elves and stars?" I've always been curious about Arwen's Evenstar necklace and the jar Galadriel gave Frodo.

"What do you mean?" He responds conversationally as if discussing the weather.

"How do you put them into jewelry or into jars? Like, how do you even get them down from the sky?"

An amused smile finds its way onto his face, and I stare in amazement. I have never seen him smile, except at Arwen's wedding, and even then, it was a sad smile.

He explains, "It's not an actual star that is taken from the sky and placed inside these relics, but rather the essence and light of the star."

At my confused look, he elaborates, "Light is a power, Peyton of Earth. It is sacred to us elves. It emanates throughout the expanse of creation from the Father of us all, Eru Ilúvatar, and it resides within each of us in one form or another. My people can harness this power and take it from the stars at certain times or in special seasons, and we save it within precious stones or within water."

"Wow," I'm enthralled by this strange and wonderful concept. "That's amazing. Just in this universe, though, right? We don't have an Eru Ilúvatar in my world."

Lord Elrond hums, "He goes by many names. Perhaps he is simply called something different in your world."

I wonder how we ended up discussing God, but it makes sense since elves are very spiritual beings. "So...how do you capture a star's light and store it in an object? And how does it stay inside without, I don't know, leaking out over time?"

He tilts his head and smiles softly at me like I am an small child asking questions like why is the grass green or why is the sky blue. "We place the stone on a mirror or dip the flask in the reflecting pool where the star that is chosen is reflected. Each star has its own unique energy and once we choose the star that possesses the desired qualities, we then ask Eru Ilúvatar to grant us some of its light to bless the lives of others. Through a delicate dance of concentration and harmony, we are able to capture a fragment of its brilliance within the specially crafted vessel." His look turns more amused, "And it does not leak out from these artifacts due to the magic we infuse into them before beginning the process."

I listen intently my eyes wide, captivated by his words."So, you placed Arwen's necklace in the reflection of the Evenstar, and it absorbed the light?"

His intense eyes bore into mine, clearly wondering where I got this detailed of knowledge from, but he answers all the same, "Essentially, although there is much more to it than that. The process is intricate and requires great skill. During the ritual, you must channel your own inner light, your connection to the divine, and merge it with the star's energy."

He pauses before rising out of his seat, gesturing for me to come with him to a different window nearby.

I stand up curiously and walk over to the window with him, which offers yet another angle of the valley below.

He points up at the sky, "If you look, just beyond that tree there, you will see the Evenstar."

I look in the direction he's pointing, but I don't see it.

"Perhaps it is easier for my elvish eyes to see," Elrond responds when I don't seem to react. "It will be clearer later on tonight after dinner."

"Wow." I breath. I can't see it but the whole thing is really cool!

He always seemed so stern in the movie. But perhaps it was because he was stressed at the time? I mean, there was an evil ring that needed to be destroyed, after all. He has a good heart, I realize. Better than most characters in Middle Earth, actually. Stern, but exceedingly kind, and he seems to possess a sense of humor beneath his stoic demeanor. Now that he's a living, breathing soul in my mind, I slowly come to the realization that I can't be too harsh on him for trying to save his daughter from a mortal life. He loved his daughter. Loves, I should say, since he and she exist in the present.

We are silent for a moment before another question hits me.

"Lord Elrond?" I ask hesitantly, feeling unsure of myself in front of this legendary elf lord but also bolder than before.

He half turns to me but remains silent to allow me to continue.

"When you were there…the day that men's strength failed them…" I begin.

Elrond's whole body seems to freeze, and his face loses its smile.

"...Why didn't you just take the ring from Isildur? Why didn't you just cast it into Mount Doom yourself?" I've always wondered why Lord Elrond asked Isildur to come to Mount Doom with him instead of simply grabbing the ring from Isildur's weak mortal hands and throwing it into the volcano. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble and would have been incredibly badass.

To my absolute horror, Lord Elrond's expression becomes pained, and his once amused eyes now carry a strange look.

Aw, crap Pey. There you go, offending people again.

I quickly begin to apologize, stumbling over my words in my anxiety to undo what I had unknowingly stepped into. "Oh my gosh!" I gape. "Lord Elrond, I am so sorry! Please, believe me...I would never, not in a MILLION years, want to hurt yo...I had no idea that...I mean...I didn't know this was such a...a sensitive subject for you! I NEVER would have-"

He raises a graceful hand to bid me silence and I immediately shut up, my mouth snapping closed. Wringing my hands in worry, I can't help but wonder how I managed to make him laugh and now I make him almost cry. Nice going! I always ruin everything!

He turns away from me, his light brown elvish robes swishing gently with his graceful movements as he passes by the table and chairs. Slowly, he walks back to the main overlook facing Rivendell once more, looking out over the beautiful kingdom he has built - his personal Shangri-La, his magnum opus.

He remains silent for a moment, his back still turned to me, and I can't help but feel a sense of unease. I wrap my arms around myself, nervously fidgeting as I continue to gaze at his tense shoulders, his long, straight brown hair, and his unmistakable elven ears. I wonder if this is his dismissal of me and he wants me to leave?

I finally turn to go in absolute mortification but before I can take more than a single step, his voice breaks the silence. "Many thousands of years have I asked myself that same question, Peyton of Earth," he says, his words clear but filled with a soft sadness. "You surprise me, but it is...refreshing...that human beings can still surprise me after these many years."

Slowly, he turns to face me, and I find myself captivated by the calmness that now graces his features. Yet, despite his immortal nature, there is a weariness in his eyes that I hadn't noticed before.

"Thank you?" I say, confused and hesitant.

"In response to your question..." Elrond clasps his hands behind him, his gaze momentarily fixed on the ground as he gathers his thoughts. "...Perhaps it was because I desired to give the race of men a chance to have their shining moment, their triumph over evil? I have observed much of the history of Middle Earth thus far, witnessing both the virtues and vices mankind are capable of. Regrettably, it has most often been evil."

His words strike a chord within me, causing me to pause and reflect. I find myself nodding in understanding. "That makes sense," I reply, acknowledging the weight of his reasoning.

"Or...perhaps," Elrond hesitates, his eyes clouding over, "the truth could possibly be that...I was afraid."

Words can't express how shocked I am at his words and he turns from my bewildered expression to look out upon the beautiful view again, "I did not wish to be overcome by the temptation of the ring. I shifted the burden off my own shoulders by asking Isildur to bear it to Mount Doom. I justified it by deeming it his duty, since he had defeated Sauron's physical body. In a sense, this was true. A part of me knew, however, that if…that WHEN he failed… the blame would rest upon him, and not on me."

He still doesn't turn to look at me.

This whole time my eyes are as big as saucers, but my mouth is tightly closed. That is definitely not the answer I was expecting. I guess I thought he would say something like 'Eh. I didn't think about it at the time. Hindsight is always 20-20, you know?'. But no…he actually DID think about it. He knew the risks. And yet...he let his friend, someone he knew quite well, take the ring that would surely overcome him.

I guess elves, while immortal, aren't always perfect and unselfish beings. I mean, look at Thranduil; That guy's a complete jerk. They all have their blunders in life.

To be fair though, it's literally the same reason Gandalf didn't take the ring from Frodo. He was also afraid of what the ring would do to him and, ergo, Middle Earth. So he made Frodo carry the burden. I feel a surge of empathy towards this kind Elf Lord. It's a rare moment of honesty, and I appreciate his willingness to share his past with me, a stranger no less!

I step up beside him, and still, he doesn't turn to acknowledge my presence. We gaze out over the breathtaking sight of Rivendell for a few moments together in silence. The sun casts its warm glow upon the valley, illuminating the ethereal beauty of the elven realm. The white pillars, polished beams, and intricate elvish designs are bathed in a radiant orange-gold hue. The waterfall captures the rays of light, transforming into a cascade of sparkling flashes, as if ignited by the sun's white fire.

For the millionth time, I find myself yearning for my cellphone, wishing it were functional so I could capture this scene. Yet, deep down, I wonder if perhaps this kind of beauty is meant solely for those who witness it firsthand? Photos never truly capture the emotions and sensations that come from experiencing something with your own eyes anyway.

Finally, I turn to him and say, "Thank you for telling me. It must not have been easy for you."

Elrond offers a nod in acknowledgment of my gratitude but says nothing.

"Don't worry, Lord Elrond," I try to comfort him. "The ring will be destroyed in the next fifty-three…ish…years. It'll all be alright."

Elrond's head snaps towards me, his expression one of complete surprise.

I offer him a smile, "I never said you should have taken the ring from Isildur. I was merely curious about why you didn't. Perhaps it was wise of you to not touch it? You, Gandalf, and Galadriel each face the temptation of the ring's power. Maybe it's because you're all ring-bearers yourselves? Who knows?" I shrug nonchalantly, averting my gaze from his astonished face. "But the three of you ultimately succeed. And, in a way, I suppose I should thank you. If you had destroyed the ring, there would be no story. And it's truly an AWESOME story," I turn back to grin up at him, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

Elrond finally voices the question that has been lingering beneath the surface throughout our conversation. "How do you know these things? And what do you mean by 'story'?"

I pause for a moment before attempting the same excuse I use on everyone else. "Perhaps I'm…a seer? Of sorts?" I glance over to see his response.

He gives me a look that says he doesn't buy it. I guess it's hard to trick a 6,000-year-old guy.

"Or…" I say, sounding like him when he gave me reasons for the ring surviving, "In my world, some of the stories of your world are written down as fairytales and we know about them." I shrug, "Take your pick."

"That is how you knew of Arwen." He concludes.

I nod in confirmation and Elrond's face turns into a very large smile. He lets out a breath, as if a huge burden has been taken off his shoulders at my news. "Our guests are waiting for us." he says, hearing things that I can't, "Come." He graciously indicates that I take his arm like a gentleman and we walk back across the treacherous bridge and back along the mountainside. The whole way there he speaks with enthusiasm about how Rivendell first came to be and I listen in awe.

Once arriving at the main building we climb to a pavilion where the dwarves have already congregated at the table. Elves gracefully glide around them, serving platters of food. When I come into view, the dwarves shout a rowdy cheer instead of a normal hello, along with a few catcalls for my blue hobbit dress. I grin and blush, giving them all a Forrest Gump wave. Lord Elrond's demeanor is calm and composed, displaying a grace that seems second nature to him. But, and I think my eyes are playing tricks on me, he looks like he's glowing with happiness. A faint light seems to emit from around him, reminiscent of Galadriel.

Rather than allowing me to sit with my dwarves who have a chair saved for me, he guides me to a separate table where Gandalf and Thorin have both risen to greet us. I can't help but feel like a newborn deer on wobbly legs next to him, stumbling and awkward amidst the ethereal elegance of the elves. My movements seem sporadic and jerky in comparison to their fluid grace. I take a seat next to Thorin, shooting him a bright smile causing him to raise an eyebrow. He had watched suspiciously as Elrond and I had come up to the pavilion together, obviously wary of my consorting with his enemy and telling him company secrets.

"Hi Thorin, how are you." I ask him, trying to be civil.

"Well, thank you." He replies simply before glancing at Elond and then me again, "And you?"

"Great! Thanks for asking." I smile happily.

"You are looking well, my old friend!" Gandalf says in happy surprise as Elrond takes his seat, clearly noticing the glow.

"I have received very good news, Mithrandir." Elrond replies with a smile, "I find it quite difficult to be unhappy at the moment. Now, tell me what has occurred since last time we last met. What adventures have you endured?"

As Gandalf speaks, I eat. The food served is not badat all. Salads, delicious homemade breadswith various butters, exotic fruits, and different cheeses. I tilt my head at it though. Perhaps it's just an appetizer before the main course? No meat. I hear murmurings from some of the other dwarves behind me about the lack of meat.

Elrond had meat and cheese on his tray when I had spoken with him at the Gazeebo and I thought elves were considered excellent hunters?

I glance over at Elrond, watching him take a sip of wine while his elf ears obviously pick up on every disgruntled comment by the dwarves.

The dwarves have been nothing but discourteous and rude since arriving. Could this be Elrond's way of getting even? Is that why he had a mini-dinner before dinner?!

If so, then it's sneaky, underhanded, and downright petty...and I love it! Besides, the dwarves need more greens in their diet!

"This salad is delicious Lord Elrond. Thank you so much for the food!" I smirk at him as I take a bite.

He smiles and I catch the twinkle in his eye, "Thank you, Miss Silva. If you are hungry later on I'm sure we can find something for you in the kitchens."

I can tell it's his way of apologizing for the lack of meat on behalf of the rude members of the company.

I shake my head, "Honestly, it's been a long time since I've had a salad. It's refreshing."

Thorin has been watching this back and forth between Elrond and I for some time, his expression as stoic as ever, obviously wishing he was anywhere but in 'elf country'.

The conversation naturally turns to the wargs that were pursuing us and the troll hoard we happened upon earlier. The swords were discussed and then Lord Elrond turns to me, "And you, Miss Silva? A woman from another world in the company of these dwarves of Durin? Have you a sword?"

I belatedly realize that I had left my sword in my room, not feeling a need for it. But then my eyes widen as I remember what it was I had come to Rivendell for! So caught up in the confusion of the story and the surreal atmosphere of magic, I had almost forgotten my purpose in coming here! How could I have forgot about it as I walked around? This whole time I could have been talking with Elrond about going home instead of discussing stars!

"Yes, but I left it in my room. Uh, actually, I do need your help with something, Lord Elrond." I notice his curious expression and continue, "I am trying to find a way back home. I picked up a gold coin that fell out of a very large book I was admiring, and it somehow brought me here, to Middle Earth."

"Do you have the coin?" he inquires.

I pull the coin out of my pocket and pass it to him across the table placing it into his ready palm. He holds it up, inspecting it. His eyes don't require him to bring it closer to his face in order to see the details on it.

He stares at it for a few moments before saying, "It seems an ordinary Malkudar. A bit old, perhaps, as the face has deteriorated. Are you certain this is what brought you here?"

"I'm not sure of anything," I reply frankly. "I was touching an ancient book and this fell out. Once I tried to pick it up, I arrived."

"Tell me about this book."

I blink. This is the first time someone has wanted to know about the book. This whole time my focus has been on the coin.

"Were there any images on the cover? Any symbols that you remember?" He encourages.

"Yeah." I frown as the image of the front of the red book comes to mind. It had been closed every time I had come into the room for class, so I had plenty of times to look at it. But the day I was there alone with Matt, it had been open. "Do you have a paper and quill? I can try and draw it for you."

Lord Elrond speaks elvish to the elf at his left who then leaves the room, presumably to look for those very objects.

While he's away, I continue, "Umm, I don't know much about the book, to tell you the truth. My Paleography professor is renowned over the world for his collection of rare books and artifacts and he brought this book out to the lab in particular to show the students because it was found on one of his recent trips. Bloemfontein, South Africa? I think. Um, that's a different continent...there are seven of them on my planet."

Thankfully I can stop rambling as the elf quickly returns, brings a blank parchment and a quill. I begin a very crude and horribly done drawing but do the best I can from the brief times I saw the cover. Two large towers with lines coming out of them and intercepting over a small castle within a circle.

"The Two Lamps of Arda!" Elrond says with a surprised expression.

Gandalf and Thorin both lean forward with intrigue on their faces as well.

"You know this book?" I gasp with shock.

"I know of this drawing." Elrond clarifies, "The Two Lamps of Arda or the Two Lamps of the Valar, as they are sometimes called, were the first sources of light on our planet in the days before days."

"What can you tell me about these two lamps?" I beseech him.

Lord Elrond gives the drawing a thoughtful look, his eyes filled with ancient wisdom as he speaks in his measured Elvish tone, "The Two Lamps of Arda, Miss Silva, were a pivotal part of the creation story of our world. They symbolize the earliest sources of light in the days before days, when Arda, our world, was still young and unsullied. They held great significance in the ancient history of Middle-earth. May I?" He holds a hand out, referring to the quilland I eagerly hand it over.

"Illuin." He writes the word underneath one of the pillars. "was the first of the lamps, and it was situated in the north. It radiated a silvery light, akin to the glow of the moon. Ormal, on the other hand," He writes the word underneath the other, "was in the south, and it emanated a golden light, resembling the warmth and brilliance of the sun. Together, they brought light to all of Arda. Although, it is very possible that they were merely metaphors for the actual sun and moon since Illuin means sky silver and Ormal means high gold. "

He draws upon the parchment as he speaks, adding details to the drawing I had started. "These lamps were created by the Valar, powerful and divine beings who shaped the world in its early stages. They stood as beacons of hope and illumination, a symbol of harmony and balance within the world. Middle Earth, as you can see," he points to the small castle-like thing between the lamps, "lay in between, representing the heart of our world."

I look closer, seeing that the small castle in between the two pillars is not a castle at all, but rather three mountains surrounded by water. Middle earth.

"So, the book WAS from Middle Earth then." I breath, confused. "But...what does it all mean?"

"They are a symbol of 'light'." I look up at him and at the significant look he levels me with, I think back to our discussion about light existing in everything and how it is sacred to the elves. "This story, Miss Silva, is a tale we share with our people, a symbol of courage and the eternal struggle between light and darkness. A popular term among my people is 'A Light in Arda', which arose from this myth in reference to these two lights. At times in history, it has also been considered an honorary name, or title, given to those who do extraordinary acts of courage. It appears this book in your world indeed brought you here, for what purpose, I am uncertain."

"The book or the Mazuldar coin?" I ask, bewildered.

"Both." Elrond responds as he passes the coin over to me, "Perhaps the Mazuldar determined the time period you landed in?"

I hold the gleaming coin in my hand, thinking hard. I thought it had been the Mazuldar this whole time. I had touched it after all. But, then again, I did touch both of them. Almost no one would touch a book that old without gloves like I had. But if they did, would they have been transported too? Or did the coin fall out just for me? Fate or coincidence?

The Valar have brought you here for a great purpose. Same as me. Same as all of us, if you really think about it.

"But...how do I get home?" I finally ask, wondering at the remarkable history of Arda he spoke of. "Do you have a book from another world that I can touch and see if a quarter falls out?" I half-heartedly joke.

"Alas," Elrond shakes his head, "only the Valar can help you in that regard."

I can't help but glance over at Gandalf who lowers his bushy gaze at me as if to say 'See? Whadda I tell ya?'

Elrond continues, "But I can't help but wonder how accompanying dwarves will help you reach your goal?" He turns and gives Gandalf a raised eyebrow. "You were attacked on the East road by orcs. But it begs the question of what were you doing on the East Road in the first place?" Elrond's tone turns suspicious.

"Excuse us," Thorin mutters to Elrond, abruptly standing. "Come, Peyton, I will walk you to your room," he says, offering me his arm.

Frowning, I notice the abrupt way he cuts off Elrond. I want to stay, but I don't want to cause a bigger scene and it's best to discuss Azog before it gets too late. Standing, I place my hand on Thorin's arm, surprised to notice the lack of armor. Before he leads me away, I turn to Elrond and say, "Thank you again for dinner and the conversation."

Elrond inclines his head, no longer smiling but not discourteous either. "Of course."

Following Thorin's lead, we walk in the direction that seems to lead to my room. As we walk, I faintly hear Elrond droll, "Thirteen Dwarves, a human woman, and a halfling. A strange choice for companions, wouldn't you say, Gandalf?"

Thorin remains silent as we walk, searching for a spot where elvish ears aren't around. Yeah, that's never going to happen.

"What did you discuss with Lord Elrond before dinner?" Thorin asks, surprising me.

I look at him, and our eyes meet. So, I was right. He's concerned about me spilling the beans. "I was... uh, having a 'heart-to-heart' with him about the past," I reply with a shrug.

Thorin tilts his head, frowning. "Heart-to-heart?" he repeats, unfamiliar with the term.

"Yeah, it means being vulnerable with one another and sharing secrets. I almost made him tear up, if you can believe it," I say, widening my eyes and looking into the distance. I'm still perturbed that I, Peyton Silva, almost made an elf cry. His eyes had a strange sheen to them, but it wasn't exactly tears. Is there a special place in hell for people who do that?

"What sort of secrets?" Thorin presses.

I roll my eyes and shoot him a glare. He's obviously wondering what dirt he can dig up on Elrond. "Nothing related to the quest, I assure you. Your secrets are safe."

"You told him... personal secrets about yourself?" Thorin looks deeply disturbed by this.

"No, not really," I reply, watching him carefully, wondering where he's going with this. "We mostly talked about his secrets."

"He told you his secrets?" Thorin's expression grows even more troubled.

"Yes, and you're never going to hear them. So drop it!"

Finally, we reach a stone courtyard with an adjacent garden. Thorin stops, turning to face me fully. He folds his arms across his chest, giving me a stern, reprimanding look. "Do you usually have heart-to-hearts with strangers?"

"Oh my gosh, Thorin!" I exclaim, throwing my free hand up in the air and laughing. "I have heart-to-hearts with whoever I feel like having them with! And I knew Lord Elrond before I met him." I pause, realizing that actually, I had no idea who Lord Elrond truly was until now. I backtrack, "Well, I mean, I knew OF Lord Elrond... so, I'm more of a stranger to him than he is to me, at least. So, technically, he's the one having heart-to-hearts with strangers, not me."

"And you knew of me as well," Thorin states aloud, deep in thought. I had told him as much at Bilbo's house.

"Yes, you already knew that," I reply, trying to sound annoyed at him to hide the blush creeping up my face. "I have to admit that you're a lot different than I expected." I give his questioning look a teasing smile as we continue walking toward a stone bench where I sit down, "For one thing, I had no idea you sing so well!"

Thorin gives me an unimpressed look, but I know him well enough to know there's a smile just waiting to be discovered underneath the surface.

I grin up at him, "And your hand smelled just fine, by the way."

He smiles.

"Is there anything else?" Thorin inquires, pacing restlessly. The sun had set some time ago, and the stone courtyard we'd found, far enough from the elves, was now bathed in the soft glow of flickering lamps.

We'd been in deep discussion for over an hour, with me sharing what little I knew about Azog. Thorin had been insistent, demanding every detail I could recall. But the truth was, I know nothing now.

"I know it isn't much help," I admit with a sigh. "The wargs weren't supposed to show up before the Misty Mountains."

Thorin's brow furrows. "And yet, you knew there would be wargs. How can you predict the future with such certainty?"

I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound. "Have you not been listening, Thorin? I don't know the future with certainty! It's changed!" I gaze out over the dark valley below us. "I wanted to change the future, but not like this."

Thorin shakes his head, stubborn as ever. "You speak with such certainty of things that aren't meant to happen, which means that you know how things are meant to happen." He insists. "Seers don't do that. They never admit when a prophecy doesn't come true but explain it away as if it was a metaphor or symbolic."

"Yeah, well, I'm not your average seer, Thorin." I sigh. It's late and I'm tired. I didn't take that nap like I wanted to, and even though the bath has helped my pained muscles from running, I'm longing for the comfort of an elf bed.

Thorin falls silent, pacing thoughtfully.

"How are we even going to continue the quest without ponies?" I ask him, mourning the loss of Sir Gallahop. I never even got to say goodbye. Hopefully, they are still alive since the wargs chased Radaghast and not them.

"We will continue without them." Thorin says absentmindedly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Suddenly, Gandalf and Lord Elrond appear, crossing the courtyard to join us with Balin and Bilbo trailing behind. I startle at their arrival, still jumpy from the warg attack. Thorin, however, merely glances over at them, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Thorin, I've taken the opportunity to explain our need for a translator to Lord Elrond. And he has agreed to look at the map for you." Gandalf announces with a smile.

Thorin's eyes flash with anger, even as Balin hurriedly interjects, "I told him not to Thorin. He wouldn't listen!"

"Our business is no concern of elves." Thorin retorts, his deep voice laced with tension and betrayal.

"For goodness sake, Thorin! We are here by the will of the Valar." Gandalf says, clearly frustrated.

"It is the legacy of my people. It's mine to protect. As are its secrets."

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!" Gandalf mutters, shaking his head at Thorin. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth that can read that map. Show Lord Elrond the map!" He insists.

Lord Elrond's gaze meets Thorin's, his expression unreadable. Thorin returns the stare, unyielding.

"Thorin?" I venture softly. He turns to me, our eyes locking. "He's the only one that can read it. We're in Rivendell for that reason."

"But it's an important document of our people, Miss Peyton!" Balin interjects, his tone bordering on anger. "We are a secretive race! We don't share our knowledge with outsiders." He doesn't mention elves, but I know that's what he implies, given they've shared secrets with me before.

"You have to decide what you value more then," I respond gently, my tone devoid of judgment. I glance back at Thorin, "Your secrecy...or your home."

Thorin remains silent, and I implore him with my eyes. We had discussed this during our fireside chat before the troll incident. We both have lost homes and both yearn for what can never be returned. Now, it's time to see if he truly meant what he said about wanting to rebuild Erebor, greater and grander than before. I see a hint of softness replace the stubbornness in his eyes, and he turns back to Elrond, sighing through his nose. Slowly, he reaches into his coat and retrieves the map from a hidden pocket.

"No, Thorin..." Balin begins, but Thorin raises a hand, silencing him. He hands the map to Lord Elrond, their eyes locked as Elrond carefully unrolls the parchment.

"Erebor." Elrond's eyes flicker back to him and Thorin stiffens at the surprise in Elrond's voice. "What is your interest in this map?"

"It's mainly academic," Gandalf interjects. "As you know, these sorts of artifacts can contain hidden text," Gandalf continues nonchalantly.

Thorin shoots Gandalf a relieved and grateful look. Elrond notices and, surprisingly, looks at me to gauge my reaction. Unsure of the reason for this secrecy, I decide to follow Gandalf's lead and blink and smile, feigning ignorance.

Elrond walks away from us, and we all hold our breath as he examines the map under the moonlight.

"Kierth Ithil," Elrond says, sounding impressed.

"Moon runes!" Gandalf exclaims, "Of course." He turns to me and Bilbo. "I might have known."

I glance at Thorin, giving him a reassuring smile. He seems to relax, realizing that giving the map to Elrond was the right decision. They would have needed someone who could read Ancient Dwarvish, and at night.

"I wonder how moon runes work?" I murmur curiously, mostly to myself as Elrond continues to study the map.

"Moon letters were invented by us, Dwarves," Balin says, pride evident in his voice, "They are written with silver pens containing Ithildin, an ink made from our most precious metal, mithril. It reflects only starlight and moonlight."

Elrond's voice draws our attention back to him. He stands a bit far, his expression intense as he continues to study the map. "Indeed. Some moon letters can be read by any moonlight, but it is possible to make the writing even more secret. This particular scroll can only be deciphered by the light of the moon under the same shape and season under which it was written."

"Can you read them?" Thorin asks, hopeful.

"No," He shakes his head, turning towards us, "Unfortunately, I cannot. You missed the crescent moon required for these runes to be read. It occurred yesterday." He hands the scroll back to a surprised and disappointed Thorin.

I feel like someone punched me in the stomach and I cry out in alarm, "What?!"

End of Chapter

How do ya like me now, LairaCapulet? How ma na ma na!? Feel free to watch this video and imagine that it's me - (www. youtube watch?v=jS_pJ7kiQxo) …Of course, if you HAVE read a fanfic where Elrond couldn't read the moon runes because they were late arriving…then I am utterly ashamed and you can disregard my video. Otherwise, I regret nothing! XD

My apologies to anyone who feels that Lord Elrond is out of character. All fanfics I've read of Elrond barely sweep over him as a person and I was just like "Dude. The guy is 6,000 years old! That's an opportunity wasted to get some info outta him!" I honestly bs'd pretty much ALL the info he gave though, lol. I made up the part about collecting starlight in jewelry and glass bottles (I looked up how they do it but I couldn't find anything, so I made it up, haha), and I made up the reason Elrond didn't take the ring from Isildur. (BUT! I read about Elrond and Isildur on Tumblr, and some people had more or less the reasoning that I did! So I was happy that I may be somewhat correct?), and I also dived really deep into the Two Lamps info and tried my best to make it into Elrond's tone of voice. My only excuse for the conversation in the gazebo is that Peyton has a gift of getting people to open up and talk about themselves with her. Especially elves for some reason. You'll see what I mean further in the story, although I won't give any explanation for it, haha. It is what it is.

Ya'll better review! Or I'll keep Chapter 18 locked up in the dungeon with no food and water! You've been warned! ;P