This one is a bit more lightheartened than the other chapters (I think), before it gets more serious again.
Basically friends, family, dwarves, and a hobit.

TW: Ariel doesn't like dwarves and it shows.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, just a reminder.

Host

The slowly setting sun casts a gentle glow over the valley of Rivendell, its beauty seemingly untouched by the troubles of the outside world. The Last Homely House stands still, unchanged, like a beacon or an island. If not for Estel and Glorfindel, it would sometimes be a bit boring, orcs notwithstanding - or at least she had thought so, until a couple of days ago when suddenly the visitors arrived. The wizard came first, not Gandalf though, but Saruman, the leader of their order. Her father had met him before, but Ariel had never had any contact with him in all her life and once he had greeted her - very respectfully, mind you - she decided she didn't much want to ever again. There is something odd about him, something she doesn't like. It feels hard and yet seemingly dark, despite the white staff and robes. Ariel has nothing of her father's foresight, and yet it is so clear to her - how nobody else sees it is a mystery to her.

But the man is only secondary - especially when just a day later, someone tall sneaked up on her and without any question wrapped her in his arms. She startled, obviously, and nearly knocked the attacker over, when she heard the low chuckle and saw silver hair out of the corner of her eyes. Well, what can she say - she still knocked him over for that stunt. Haldir didn't much mind though, he probably had expected it anyway.
To say she was delighted was probably an understatement, she was up in the clouds. He had come as a part of the Lórien party, Lady Galadriel's entourage. Well, Ariel was convinced her grandmother had picked him as a personal favour to her - aside from his talents as a guard. The lady herself is as shiny and beautiful and scary as she remembered, but somehow Ariel has the feeling she is pleased with what she sees in her granddaughter now. Maybe it is stupid, but it makes Ariel a little bit proud.

Now, Haldir and her are laying on her favourite little bridge, looking up into the reddening sky, busy sharing stories and anecdotes about the years that have passed. So much has happened and yet for elves, it doesn't seem like much at all, it is truly very strange. Now though, time seems to stand still, and while she knows that this is certainly an illusion, for a moment, they are stuck in a little bubble.

Suddenly, Ariel huffs. "Why did Arwen not come?"
Haldir chuckles. "Because she wants you to come to Lórien."
Ariel smiles. "Nice try. But I am still needed here. For about 10 years. 10 years and he will be old enough."
"You truly think -?"
"I don't know. But the Valar know I will teach him everything I can. Then he needs to figure out the rest by himself."
"I never thought you'd get attached to a human child."
"Neither did I, I swear. But he's a good child. A bit too sweet, maybe, but the world will take care of that."
"And I thought you weren't good with feelings."
"I am still horrible with feelings."
"From what I have heard - you aren't half bad. You seem to get along with your family, for the most part. You obviously adore that boy. Glorfindel said -"
"You talked about me with Glorfindel?"
"It might have come up in conversation."

She sits up to face him.
"How do I come up in casual conversation?"
Haldir sits up, too, though much slower.
"Well, maybe I simply asked him, since I was afraid you wouldn't tell me if something was wrong."
"Nothing is wrong! You just wanted a reason to talk to the famous warrior. Don't let it get to his head!"
"By the Valar, no. Though he is indeed very inspiring. Anyway, on the long run, you Rivendell-Elves are far, far too exhausting for my taste." Ariel pushes his shoulder, and he laughs. "Though I will say, I am slightly envious of that Mirkwood Prince of yours."
"Legolas? Please."
"Well, you are supposed to marry him, are you not?"

Ariel groans and flops on her back again.
"I suppose I am - or at least that was the vague hope. I am pretty certain King Thranduil hopes for closer ties to Rivendell, support, and maybe even a more secure standing against my grandparents. But you know what, I am done being a pawn in these games, and Legolas wants to marry me just as little. So, don't you worry mellon nín, you will always be my special first love."

She grins up at him and he falls on his back as well.
"Bitch."

It's one of the few words she has taught her friends in Westron, something she does whenever she can't find any Sindarin terms to transport the same sentiment.

"You love me. Admit it," she singsongs, and he takes her hand and interlaces their fingers.

The lay in silence, her deep blue dress like a cloud across her legs. A good observer would have noticed the fine but rather boot-like shoes peeking out under the hem, a testament to how much she has had to walk about to organise everything for the council. She just hopes they will let her take part in it without any trouble.
Then she sighs as her ears suddenly notice the pattern of hectic little steps - Lindir.

"My Lady!" he calls out making both sit up, "a company has crossed our boarders."
Her eyebrows shoot up in alarm.
"Orcs?"
"No, híriel nín, dwarves!"
She frowns.
"How? And has my father been informed?"
"Your father is out hunting with a party, híriel nín. And the dwarves - as I said, it is a whole company. They seem to be led by Mithrandir."
Ariel sighs. "That wizard is trouble. Alright, the Lady Galadriel will deal with him later."

Her grandmother truly has a special way with people, maybe that is why her father had insisted on joining the hunting party - to get out of his mother-in-law's clutches for a bit. The elleth stands up and resolutely pats down her dress.

"Let's greet these dwarves then."

She probably looks as excited as she sounds - which is not very much.

"Lindir, I'll get ready, come and collect me once they cross into the entrance part. I won't chase after them, I want them to come to us."
"Of course, my lady."

As Lindir scrambles away, Haldir raises an eyebrow.

"Melleth nín, you are going to make a show, entrance and dress and everything included, are you not?"
Ariel smiles.
"Of course I will. Dwarves like pretty shiny things, so pretty shiny things they will get to see."

They hurry back, only for her to change into one of her red dresses with elaborate golden stitching on the front and the sleeves. Now, Ariel stands on one of the terraces, her sharp eyes scanning the path that winds through the valley. Her long hair, unbound, catches the breeze and shimmers like golden silk.

"They should be arriving soon," Haldir says stepping up beside her. His calm demeanour belies the interest in his eyes. "Gandalf seldomly brings company without good reason, I believe."

Ariel nods, her thoughts drifting. Gandalf's visits are always marked by excitement and intrigue, and the wizard's penchant for unusual companions have become almost legendary. Usually though it's humans or the odd lone wandering elf.
The sun is kissing the mountains as a small procession appears on the path. Leading them is indeed Gandalf, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance. The short, stout figures and gruff demeanour contrast sharply with the elegance of the elves and the peacefulness around them, they seem made out of stone, even from afar. All stop in a courtyard below and Ariel lets them wait for a few moments just to make them uncomfortable - after all, they are the intruders on her perfectly pleasant evening.
Her technique obviously works, and they start to form a lose protective circle, horribly uncoordinated though. They should take a piece of advice from Lórien or even Woodland coordination and discipline, Ariel thinks. Despite the chaos it is however still clear who the leader is, a comparably tall male with a thick fur over his shoulders and a dark beard, admittedly authoritative despite his short stature - he seems familiar, but she knows they have never met before.

"Well then," with an eyeroll, she turns towards the stairs, now flanked by two more than stoic guards. They seem just as little excited as she is.

Her descend catches everyone's eyes as her dress licks at the stairs like soft red flames. She is deadly fire and rising dawn, she runs this place, there is no doubt. The dwarves seem unsure, but Gandalf's eyes are twinkling. He bows slightly.

"Ah, Lady Ariel, the fiery dawn."
She allows herself a small smile.
"Mithrandir." Her eyebrows rise and she continues in Elvish. "It is strange company you keep. We were alarmed as you were crossing into the valley."
"I need to speak to Lord Elrond."

Rude!

She almost rolls her eyes again.

"I am afraid that is not possible. He is not here," she now starts in the Common Tongue, "you will have to speak with me."

A whisper runs through the dwarves, clearly a questioning of her motives. Gandalf flinches slightly, probably partly because his plan has been crushed and partly because he knows she will be the more difficult one. And happily, so.

"Not here? Where is he?"

Luckily for them, they are interrupted by the sound of a horn ringing through the valley. She only gives him a little shrug before he turns around behind the company - all of which have started to face the bridge. Soon, the sound of hooves is getting louder. A white banner approaches, fluttering in the wind, until about 15 riders spill onto the courtyard. Her father is riding in the front and Ariel has to admit he is cutting a fine figure in his armour with the light dancing on the shiny dark hair. He takes in the situation, and she can see his alarm, just like in Elrohir's face who is following right after him.
Meanwhile, the dwarves scramble into another sort of huddle as the elves surround them in two concentric circles, like shepherds circling a group of lost sheep.

Are you alright?
Yes, Ada, I was just getting started.

In her mind, she can hear him huff. He stops his horse, looking down at the newcomers.

"Gandalf!"
"Lord Elrond! Mellon nín. Where have you been?"

The stop gives Ariel some time to look at the dwarves more closely, especially their leader, without being scrutinized in return.

"We were hunting a pack of orcs that had come up from the South," her father explains while he gracefully gets off his horse. "We slew a number near the entrance of the hidden path."

He comes closer to hug the wizard in a rare show of affection that seems to confuse the dwarves even more.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our boarders, something or someone must have drawn them to the valley," the lord comments while he casually hands Hadhafang to a guard. It is a show of authority right in front of the visitors and Ariel smirks slightly. She isn't the only one with a love for theatrics, my any means.

"Oh, that might have been us," Gandalf admits.

Ariel scowls a bit, then she catches the dwarven leader's shake of head, then the glint in his eyes, and suddenly she knows who it is.

Ada, that is Thorin, son of Thráin.

Outwardly, he doesn't react, but turns towards the dwarves.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin," Elrond declares.
"I do not believe we have met," the dwarf argues suspiciously.
"No, but I did meet your grandfather, Thrór," Ariel calls from the back, "and you resemble him greatly. I knew him when he ruled Under the Mountain."

The dwarf's eyebrows shoot up as he takes her in again, to him a girl, only just grown.

"Indeed? He made no mention of you."

She makes a vague gesture with her hand; it doesn't surprise her. He didn't like her much, after all. Her father, apparently fed up with this nonsense, dramatically starts in Sindarin again, causing outrage among the dwarves. She almost chuckles - it only had been a dinner invitation.
Thorin's dark eyes meet Ariel's with a mixture of pride and wariness again and she allows herself another small smirk, one of her hidden Cersei-ones. It seems to take him aback.

"Welcome to Rivendell," she bites out.

~ 0 ~

Dinner turns out to be quite painful, but Ariel hasn't expected anything different. A beautiful table is set up, a feast for any elf, and the dwarves are rude, complaining about the lack of meat and potatoes. The soft music is not to their taste, and neither is the company. Ariel thinks that they probably would have been much happier at one of Robert's banquets, or in a tavern. She doesn't know how to feel about that thought.

From what she has understood, most of the company have rhyming names, though the doesn't bother to remember them. There is a hobbit among them, though, which is somewhat intriguing. Even though she is not really interested in the guy himself, she should probably find out as much as possible.

It falls to her to entertain Gandalf until her father is ready for dinner, and they fill the time with chitchat in which she already finds out a lot about the current dangers (expected) and threats (increased and worrying). He excuses his lack of proper garderobe (not surprising) and complements her appearance (as he should).
When her father arrives, he sends her to get Estel, which annoys her because she isn't a maid and that's what Lindir is there for, but with a sight she makes her way to Gilly's place.
Her friend opens the door, a question mark in her expression.

"How can I help you?"
"I am supposed to pick up Estel to see the dwarves. Make him experience other cultures and such," she sighs.

Before the mother can say anything, Estel - who of course has been listening - already appears, like a sprout shooting out of the ground.

"Great! Let's go."

She considers telling him to get changed, but he is wearing dark trousers and a blue jerkin while the dwarves look as if they have been dragged through the mud, so she guesses his normal clothes are fine.

"Well, come on then."

They arrive just on time for her to see one of the dwarves - a younger one, if she isn't mistaken - wink at one of the harpists, Lindir's sister. The elleth blushes and she sighs internally and hopes to the heavens Estel hasn't seen that and gets any ideas.
They stay in the shadows, and she has the boy watch and observe, like they do in the forest, because he is meant to learn. The dwarves are rowdy and impolite, but she finally does join her father, Gandalf and Thorin near the top of the table while Estel becomes a little shadow, looked after by Erestor.

Suddenly, Glorfindel appears next to her shoulder, his eyes glued to the blade Elrond is currently holding - it's Thorin's, apparently, but it's Elvish.

"Orcrist," her father just explains, "the Goblin-Cleaver."
"It was made by the High Elves of the West, in Gondolin," Glorfindel interrupts in an uncommon show of excitement, "used during the Goblin Wars."

He looks seriously at Thorin.

"May it serve you well."

The dwarf bends his head in a show of respect as he receives it, but then Ariel's friend almost blanches.

"This …this is Glamdring. This is the foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin - my king."

The last words come out a little bit choked while he holds the sword Gandalf has brought. He touches it reverently, as if he were indeed holding his former king's hand. When he gives it back, he seems sad and strangely relieves at the same time, as if holding on to it was too painful.

"What about this sword?" a voice suddenly asks.

As they turn to the side, Ariel sees the hobbit holding out something towards the group. He seems a bit intimidated, but nevertheless determined to get answers.

"I wouldn't bother -" a loud dwarven voice calls from the back, but her mentor already drops to his knees to be eye to eye with the halfling.

"May I have a look?" he asks lowly.

The hobbit nods and hands him the scabbard, as the knight pulls out what seems to be a dagger, Ariel can see his hand is shaking.

"This sword, Master Hobbit, was once a dagger in Gondolin. It got lost during the fall. I had never thought to see it ever again," he explains, "as a dagger, it does not have a true name, but the writing on its blade stresses its sharpness. It won't rust and won't break. I hope - I hope it will do you great service."

He hands it back with a small smile and somehow Ariel knows it once was his.

"How did you come by these?" Elrond wants to know.
"We found them in a troll hole, near the great east road," Gandalf explains, "shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
"And what were you doing there?"

With a shake of his head, Thorin gets up and interrupts the flow, making Ariel look for Estel. He has disappeared, but so has Erestor - decided this was enough talk about falls and wars for one evening, as Glorfindel explains soon afterwards. So, the lady takes a seat at the head of the table next to her father, rather unasked.

"You keep unusual company, Gandalf," Elrond comments, too.
"They are of the House of Durin. Noble, decent folk."

Ariel snorts and can see her father's corner of the mouth quirk up, just a bit. Unfortunately, right that moment is used by the dwarves for an impromptu performance of their musical skills, jumping and dancing on the tables included. Ariel thinks Lindir's sister will faint in a second. If it weren't so annoying, it almost would be funny.

Only the hobbit seems uncomfortable, he finds her eyes and gives her an apologetic shrug - which is at least something. Maybe hobbits are indeed less annoying than dwarves - which makes her question how and why he has come on this trip in the first place.

~ 0 ~

She comes across him a little later again, when she catches him wandering through the halls of Rivendell, more precisely, through the public ones where the heirlooms of the Kings of Old are displayed. Why one lets all pieces of Narsil lay around freely is quite questionable to her, what if they get lost? But her father tells her it's important, so whatever, not her problem. Though, if she is honest, having a cool, famous sword is quite a fancy thing, of course.
Maybe her reluctance about Narsil has more to with her own past than anything else, because each time she looks at it she sees Ice, broken in two and reforged into two swords - so maybe it's just a little bit of a bad conscience, too.
(Maybe she shouldn't have called her own sword Oathkeeper either, but that's too late now.)

The hobbit looks nervous as he sees her, but he steps towards her, overwhelmed but determined.

"It's an honour to be here," he said, his voice polite, "I was just admiring your home. This place is incredible."

She nods, after all, these rooms are public.

"These walls depict our history," she tells him, "the War of the Last Alliance. The Dark Lord and his One Ring. How Isildur cut it off."
She motions towards Narsil's shards. "That's the sword that was used."
"But it's broken."
"True. But it's still sharp."
He looks at her with fascination. "I do believe so."

Maybe it's the honesty in his voice that makes her cave, but she sighs.
"Do you want a tour of Imladris?"

"If it is no bother to you, my lady, I would love it," he answers excitedly.

She chuckles softly but motions for him to come with her. He is delighted about everything she shows him, and it warms her heart, a little like Estel does. Estel, who comes bounding towards the two of them and starts to chat the hobbit's ear off with his stories and own comments.

"Maybe you should get to your ... companions?" Ariel finally offers after quite a while.
"I shan't be missed. Truth is, most don't think I should be part of this excursion."

He sounds a little bit sad as he looks down into the valley.

"I have heard hobbits are very resilient!" Estel, all eternal goodness, pipes up.
Bilbo seems taken aback. "Indeed?"
"Uhum!"
"I have also heard they are rather fond of their comforts of home," Ariel cannot help but add.
He thinks for a moment.
"I have heard it is unwise to seek the council of elves, since they will both say yes and no."
For a moment, she is flabbergasted, but cannot even argue with the statement. Estel, the little traitor, giggles. Maybe it is the lightness he brings out in her protégée, but suddenly she blurts out: "you are very happy to stay here, if you would like to."

Bilbo seems just as surprised as herself at the statement, but then nods and smiles, before they part ways and she finally drops Estel off at his mother's place.
She has just decided to go and finally find her grandmother when she meets Lindir who of course uses this precise moment to start to complain about any and everything. Ariel hums non-comically as they walk on. Suddenly, strange sounds are drifting towards them, and her unease is growing. Finally, they cross around a corner, and both elves stop in their tracks. Indeed, it is the dwarves, who have apparently decided the main fountain is a good place to wash and cajole in the water like a strange sorts of seals.
It is all of them, most likely, and all of them fully naked, and most definitely not a picture she needed burnt on the inside of her eye.

When she looks at Lindir, she thinks the elf will fall over any second, so pale has he become, and she holds his arm, just in case.

There is also a matching poll out on my profile at the moment, check it out if you have the time!