*Note: Apologies for any issues with my non-canon dwarf names. (Suggestions welcome).
.
.
The Jewel Smith
.
The daylight shone dim through the small entryway behind her, where her comrade stood by watching cautiously with a sword in hand. Morfindel crept along the walls of the dark room, not yet ready to dare the risk of a lamp. But she had the keen sight of her people, and the little bit of sun that made it through the tree canopy and onto the floor by the door was plenty for her. Slowly now she crept along with an arrow pulled ready at her bow, scarcely daring to breathe, alert for any sounds or movements or signs of life. In the middle of the floor was a small circular space that looked as if it had been brushed and swept clear of dirt and gravel. Suddenly the sound of shuffling scarcely to be heard caught her attention. Morfindel whipped around and focused her sight, and her partner sprang forward toward the noise, blade held up for a defending strike. But they saw there near to the ground the outline of a small little lump of a creature scurrying along toward the door. The archer and her partner sighed, and let their shoulders slump as they let down their guard. Morfindel loosened her arrow from its string, and pulled out her little Noldoli lamp. The deep gray walls of the small room lit up in its bright blue glow as they stood to get a clearer look at their surroundings.
The mid-morning sky was overcast when the two emerged from the cave. "Just another bear den," said Morfindel. "At least the beasts are abroad for the season and not at home tending young."
"We have checked half a dozen such caves so far, sir," said her friend Rodhiril. "All have been homes to such creatures of the woods. Are you sure this place still even exists?"
"My father told me the entrance was plain and unassuming," said their leader Celebrimbor. "Wise precaution indeed; thus did King Finrod also once keep his own cave realm so hidden."
"Yes," agreed Elenim, one from among his uncle Celegorm's people who survived the Battle of the Guarded Plain long ago. "I lived in those caves as a young elf before the fall of that kingdom. Even the most keen-sighted elves had difficulty finding the entrance without the aid of a guide. We have not gone very far yet, my friends. There is hope."
Celebrimbor and his company picked out a path south along the foothills of the mountains. The rounded peaks along their right-hand side grew higher here, where they were bare of trees and gleamed in grayed blues and lavenders by day - giving the range its namesake - with a few tall enough to still bear crowns of snow even in the peak of the warm season. High up in the hills they were obliged to forge a new trail, for if elves or dwarves had once trod here any path was long overgrown. Far down below the more farsighted among them could see the great forest of the lowlands stretching away toward the Misty Mountains far away. The master smith and his party walked along quietly for days, carefully scanning the terrain for any sign of what they sought. Eventually early one afternoon they were stopped by the sound of a whistle. It came from Dúrlos, the most farsighted of the group, who had now spotted high up on a mountainside what looked to be another cave entrance. It was much larger than the others they had tried so far, and from within issued the source of a rushing creek which spilled and splashed over cliffs and boulders down the western slopes on the other side of the range toward the sea. They all perked up in hope.
Morfindel the archer and huntress was looking around them at the trees and scanning the ground. "Sir," she said to their leader. "Look!"
Suddenly the group realized they were standing on a gravelly patch of smooth flat ground, wide enough for several to walk abreast, stretching out before them like a ribbon draped around the jutting hills and outcroppings of rock. It was an old road, littered with fallen branches and invading roots and patches of moss - little used in many years from the look of it, but still clear to see. And it wove through the heights to the cave entrance high up onto the mountain shoulder.
They were very relieved to have found a road to follow at least, which helped their speed. Still it was far, and it took half a day to come within a short distance of the entrance. As they climbed higher up the mountainside the trees grew more sparse, and soon were only slender pines. The shadows were growing long as the sun sank behind the mountains toward her rest for the night when at last they approached their destination. Suddenly a buzzing swoosh of a sudden fierce wind rushed past their ears, followed by the thunking sound of metal piercing wood. The group turned and saw an arrow now stuck in one of the tree trunks close by. In the blink of an eye several elves had already strung arrows to their bows, as another arrow flew past them into another tree. The others had pulled their blades, including Rodhiril who sprang in front of their leader holding up a shield. "Stay back, sir!" she called.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Celebrimbor in a whisper. "They are not trying to hit us I think. We do not wish to start another war already. Lower your weapons." His companions pointed their arrows toward the ground, but would not loosen their bow strings. Rodhiril stepped aside, lowering her shield.
Dúrlos peered through the shade of the pines into the great dark hole in the hillside. "The entry is sealed with a wall of some sort," he said, "iron maybe, behind which their archers must be standing. I can see no door. But their arrows fly through embrasures that disappear when they are not firing. Some sort of dwarf enchantment maybe. We cannot hope to hit them."
"You may be quick draws at the bow, elves," a deep bellowing voice suddenly called out from within the dark entrance, as if through some device of echo and amplification they could not see. "But we are sharp enough shots in our own right. Not that such targets would be a challenge at this range. Declare yourselves, and what business you have in our realm, if you would not find that out for yourselves!"
Celebrimbor stepped forward, and held up his hands, baring his palms in the direction of the cave entrance. "We come in peace!" he called out. "I am Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, son of Fëanor! My father and his brothers once had the friendship of the fortress realm of both Belegost and Nogrod when they lived near these mountains long ago. I seek an audience with your lord!"
Then for a good while the elves waited there in silence before the entrance, looking back and forth with uncertainty between each other. At last a door appeared and opened, and the short broad form of a dwarf emerged into the fading light. He rendered a bow of courtesy to the leader of the visitors.
"Greetings, Celebrimbor son of Curufin! I am Nurim son of Bundin, the door warden, at your service. Our lord has agreed to let you come in, and say what you will to him - unarmed. The rest must remain out here," he said, for twelve armed elves were too much yet for his lord to suffer in his halls.
At that the rest of the elves shifted uncomfortably where they stood, and looked warily on their host. But their leader, anxious to achieve his goals now that he had found what he sought, gave a deep bow and rendered the custom courtesies in turn. Then he handed his sword to Dúrlos.
"Good Nurim, may I at least bring along my kinfolk Elenim and Rodhiril here?" Celebrimbor requested. He nodded at his distant cousins to follow his lead, and they handed off their weapons and gave the customary bow and greetings. "They come from the people of my uncle Celegorm," he continued, "with whose realm I believe your kingdom also had friendship. The mighty warriors among your forefathers came to his aid in the Battle of Many Tears."
Nurim looked at him for a few moments, flattered by the fair words on the valor of his forefathers. He stroked his long beard in thought, seeing that all three indeed had the deep jet hair and bright piercing eyes and fair faces of the house of Fëanor. Then he nodded in approval. "I will risk the liberty of allowing it. My great-uncle Dwáin, my lord's brother, shared his craft knowledge with your uncle personally. I think my lord will be pleased."
This put the rest of the company somewhat more at ease, and they were more agreeable to wait outside while their leader met with the strangers within the caves. Celebrimbor fished out a box from his pack, and handed it to Nurim. "Here, master Nurim," he said. "This gift I have brought for your lord, in the hopes of a renewed friendship." The dwarf bowed and accepted the gift, and led the three guests inside.