*NOTE: Moria of course wasn't actually called that until after it fell (and only by the elves), but to keep things simple in the name of screen-friendliness I thought it best to stick with that name.
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The East Lands
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After a few weeks of following the east side of the river northward they came to a stretch of shallows where it could be forded. Their companions led them over and they crossed to the western banks, and continued on for a few more days until they reached a small tributary called the Celebrant. Beyond that was a woodland with many tall trees, their young little leaves of early spring still bright green. The elves who lived there saw them approach, and sent over their ferries. They were brought to the lord of that land, King Amdír, who, like the fallen lord of Edhellond, had fled the Forest Kingdom during the war in the First Age. He was delighted to host Elrond and receive the high king's greetings, for his people were ever wary of enemies after long ages in the darkness under the stars east of the great mountain range built by Morgoth himself to the Children from the West. To Amdír Elrond gifted a fine dagger, with a beautiful golden hilt set with gems, and a blade enchanted by the smith elves of Valinor to alight with the blue glow of their lanterns when enemies were near.
King Amdír escorted Elrond and his companions on a tour of his kingdom personally. "A pity you did not arrive in autumn, Master Elrond," he said as they went. "The birch leaves are so lovely a yellow hue that they give this land its name: the Valley of Gold."
"A pity indeed," said Elrond. "Perhaps by the time I return to the pass on my way home I shall catch a glimpse of it, at least."
Dúrlos turned toward the peaks of the range to their west, their heights still blanketed in snow even in summer. "The stone by the feet of that mountain looks carefully carved into the steps and walls of a road," he said.
"Does anyone live up there?" asked Elrond.
Amdír turned grim. "That is the entrance to the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria," he replied. "We do not go there."
"Moria?" asked Elrond with sudden interest. "I have heard something about that place from my king's distant kinsman, the jewel smith Celebrimbor. Do you have any business with them?"
"Nay!" he said softly. "The refugees of Nogrod fled there after the war, and their descendants still live there. King Thingol of the Forest Realm was slain by the dwarves of that kingdom."
"Yes, and that king was my great-grandfather. But mothers and children of the slayer are not also guilty," Elrond pushed back. "Nor are those of the place to which they fled. It would be wise to have an alliance of friendship between enemies of Morgoth's servants."
"Maybe it would," said the woodland king quietly. "But I have not the heart to humble myself so far. Nor would my people suffer me to allow it. But you may go up there to treat with them, if you like."
Elrond thought for a moment. "Do any of your people live near there?"
"In the hills upstream there lives a small community of our folk, not very far from their gate. But I think none would be willing to guide you all the way to their doors. However, your jewel smith friend and his companions passed by on their way there, with their dwarf friends of Belegost, a while back. I do not know if they are still there. One of the maidens among them would come out at times to hunt in the woods."
"Morfindel! When was the last time she was seen?"
"I could not say, but I have not heard any report of her in some time. I must return now to my halls," he said, "but my people who live upstream could tell you more. You will be welcome when you return."
Elrond and Dúrlos took their leave of the king and went westward up the stream, but without their companions from Edhellond, who chose to await them at the elvenking's halls. It just so happened, to their surprise, that Morfindel was there, visiting with the friends she had made who lived near the banks of the little river, and she agreed to gain them entry into the mountains and lead them to see Celebrimbor.