Ever since his arrival in Middle-earth, Sirius had been deeply disappointed by the bland and repetitive food that seemed to dominate every culture he encountered. From the basic sustenance of the Shire to the vegetarian fare of Rivendell, Sirius found himself longing for the rich, flavorful meals he had grown up with. Despite spending twelve years in Azkaban eating some of the most disgusting food imaginable, his taste buds hadn't forgotten the luxurious meals of his youth at the Black family home. His body could handle anything now, but his mind craved more.
While staying in the Shire, where life was far too quiet and uneventful for his restless spirit, Sirius found himself with ample time to experiment with recipes. The hobbits were wonderful hosts, and though they loved food, their dishes were simple and comforting rather than exciting. Sirius, however, had grown up with grand banquets, exotic flavors, and the finest ingredients money could buy. So, in an effort to relieve his boredom, he took over the kitchen at his hobbit hole and started to tinker.
Sirius quickly realized that Middle-earth had a wide array of ingredients that could rival anything back home. He began combining spices and herbs from the Shire with some of the more unique ingredients he gathered during his travels. At first, the hobbits were skeptical of his cooking, especially when they saw him adding strange ingredients or using unfamiliar techniques. However, after the first taste, they were hooked.
He made rich, hearty stews with layers of flavor that warmed the heart and soul, spiced meat pies with perfectly crisp crusts, and even delicate pastries filled with sweet, spiced fruits that had the hobbits practically begging for more. His time experimenting in the Shire's kitchen led to a deep appreciation for the local ingredients, and he enjoyed incorporating Middle-earth's fresh, earthy produce into the meals.
When Sirius discovered how bland the vegetarian food of Rivendell was, he was shocked. For all their wisdom and beauty, the elves had a rather lazy approach to their food. They seemed to live their immortal lives with little concern for innovation, whether in their cooking, music, or other forms of culture. To Sirius, it seemed like the elves were content to live as they had thousands of years ago, never questioning whether things could be better, tastier, or more exciting.
Sirius, always one to challenge the status quo, decided it was time to shake things up. If the elves were going to insist on remaining vegetarians, then at least they could learn to cook their food properly. He had spent his time in the Shire experimenting with recipes, and though he loved a good meat dish, he had also perfected several vegetarian recipes that were packed with flavor—something Rivendell sorely lacked.
One day, after yet another bland meal of raw greens and fruits, Sirius approached the elven cooks. At first, they were taken aback by his offer to teach them some new recipes. The idea of improving on their age-old ways seemed almost sacrilegious to some of them. But Sirius, ever charming and persuasive, convinced a few curious elves to give it a try.
He started by showing them how to roast vegetables with herbs and spices, creating a dish that brought out the deep, rich flavors of the food. The elves, who had never thought to roast their vegetables in such a way, were stunned by how much better everything tasted. Next, Sirius introduced them to hearty vegetable stews and soups that used layers of flavor to create a satisfying meal. He showed them how to marinate and grill mushrooms, which gave them a meaty texture that even the dwarves might enjoy, though it was still entirely plant-based.
The elves watched in awe as Sirius transformed their simple ingredients into mouthwatering dishes, each one more flavorful than the last. As they tasted the results, many of them began to realize just how much their own cooking had been lacking. Some even grew excited about the possibility of learning new techniques and incorporating more creativity into their meals.
As word spread, more and more elves came to watch Sirius cook. They were intrigued by his approach, which was unlike anything they had seen in their long lives. For the first time in centuries, the elves of Rivendell found themselves inspired to try something new. They began experimenting with their own ingredients, blending their traditional methods with the techniques Sirius had shown them.
Even Lord Elrond, known for his reserved nature, quietly praised Sirius for introducing a fresh perspective to Rivendell. Though the elves remained true to their vegetarian ways, they no longer settled for the bland, unimaginative meals they had once consumed. Instead, they embraced the joy of experimenting, of bringing something new and vibrant to their long, eternal lives.
Sirius, of course, took great pride in this. He had never been one to accept the way things were just because they had always been that way. Seeing the elves break out of their centuries-old habits and embrace a bit of change was incredibly satisfying. And while the dwarves continued to grumble about the lack of meat, they too admitted that the food had improved since Sirius had stepped in.
In a world where so much seemed set in stone, Sirius had managed to introduce a bit of chaos—a small spark of creativity that rippled through Rivendell, making the immortal elves pause and consider that perhaps, even in their endless lives, there was still room for growth and change.
As the night descended upon Rivendell, the air was filled with anticipation. Gandalf, Thorin, and Sirius gathered around a stone table in one of the elven halls, while Lord Elrond stood before them, holding the ancient dwarven map. The moon had risen high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the elven city. This was the very night they had been waiting for—the exact time and place when the secret markings on the map could be revealed.
Thorin's face was tight with tension. He had been skeptical about showing the map to Elrond in the first place, reluctant to trust an elf with something so crucial to his quest. But Gandalf had persuaded him, reminding him that Elrond was the only one who could read the moon runes, an ancient form of writing used by the dwarves long ago. Now, as the moonlight slowly illuminated the map, Thorin watched with bated breath.
Elrond carefully unrolled the map on the table, smoothing it out. The parchment seemed to shimmer under the moonlight, and soon enough, faint lines began to appear, lines that were invisible in normal daylight. Thorin, Sirius, and Gandalf leaned in closer, their eyes wide as they watched the hidden runes slowly come to life, glowing softly in the silvery light.
"These are moon letters," Elrond said quietly, his voice calm and measured. "Very few are able to read them now. They were written long ago, during a time when the moon was in this very phase, and the mountain was still a home to your people, Thorin."
Thorin's eyes were fixed on the map, his expression hard and determined. "What does it say?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Elrond studied the runes for a long moment before he began to read aloud: "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."
Gandalf nodded knowingly, while Sirius looked intrigued, his brow furrowing as he took in the information. Thorin, however, seemed even more tense than before.
"Durin's Day," Thorin muttered, his voice tight with emotion. "That's the first day of the Dwarves' New Year, isn't it? When the last moon of autumn and the sun are in the sky together."
"Indeed," Elrond confirmed. "And it is only on that day that the keyhole will be revealed, allowing you to enter the secret door of Erebor."
The room fell into a heavy silence as Thorin absorbed the weight of the words. The map had revealed a crucial piece of information, but it also meant that timing was everything. If they missed Durin's Day, they might have to wait an entire year to try again, something that Thorin could not afford. His quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain—and the treasure within—depended on this moment.
Gandalf turned to Thorin, his expression grave but hopeful. "This is our path, Thorin," he said. "We must be prepared to reach the Lonely Mountain before Durin's Day. You now know how to find the entrance. It will not be easy, but the map has given us what we need."
Sirius, standing beside them, felt the weight of the quest settle on his shoulders. He had joined this company on a whim, seeking adventure and escape from the haunting memories of his time in Azkaban. But now, standing here under the moonlight, he realized just how monumental this journey was for Thorin and his kin. This wasn't just about treasure—it was about reclaiming their home, their honor, and their legacy.
Thorin finally tore his eyes from the map and looked at Gandalf, then Elrond. "Thank you," he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I didn't think… I wasn't sure I could trust an elf with something so important. But you've done right by us tonight."
Elrond inclined his head gracefully. "The elves and dwarves may have their differences, but tonight, we are bound by a common purpose. I wish you success on your journey."
With the reading of the map complete, the company of dwarves now had a clear goal. They had to reach the Lonely Mountain in time for Durin's Day, and they had no time to waste. As the moon continued to shine down on Rivendell, the group dispersed, their minds heavy with the knowledge that their next steps would be critical.
Sirius, looking up at the sky, felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. The road ahead was dangerous, but for the first time in a long while, he felt truly alive. This quest, this company of misfit dwarves and wizards—it was exactly the kind of reckless, mad adventure he had been longing for.
The dwarves, after their time in Rivendell, were eager to move forward with their journey, now with the knowledge gained from the map. However, the thought of continuing to subsist on the elvish diet of vegetables, fruits, and leaves did not sit well with them. As the elves generously offered to provide provisions for the next leg of their journey, the dwarves, grumbling about their need for real food, politely but firmly declined.
"We've had our fill of leaves and roots," one dwarf muttered under his breath, though Thorin shot him a look of warning to remain respectful. The company made their way out of Rivendell's halls and ventured into the nearby forest in search of something more substantial.
The forest surrounding Rivendell was rich with wildlife, and the dwarves quickly set to work, tracking and hunting animals that would provide them with the hearty meals they craved. They also spent hours by the creek, catching fish in abundance. While the dwarves busied themselves with these tasks, Sirius had a different focus. He wandered deeper into the forest, searching for wild herbs and spices.
By the time he returned to the makeshift camp the dwarves had set up near the creek, they had already started roasting the game they had caught. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and the dwarves looked far more content than they had in days.
"Ah, Jimmy, back from your plant-picking?" one of the dwarves called with a laugh. "We've already got what we need right here—good, honest meat."
Sirius smirked, shaking his head as he laid out the herbs he had collected. "Just wait," he said. "I'm going to show you lot that there's more to food than just roasting it over a fire. A little seasoning makes all the difference."
The dwarves watched with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity as Sirius began to prepare the meat. He expertly rubbed the wild herbs into the cuts, seasoning the fish with salt and a mixture of foraged spices. The aroma that began to rise from the fire soon had even the most doubtful of the dwarves nodding in approval.
"You should have told us you were a cook," Bofur remarked, his eyes wide as he watched Sirius work.
"I wouldn't call myself a cook," Sirius replied with a chuckle, "but I've picked up a few tricks along the way."
As the meal cooked, the scent of seasoned meat and fish drew even more dwarves to the fire. By the time it was ready, they all gathered around eagerly, their mouths watering. When they finally tasted Sirius's handiwork, a chorus of satisfied groans rose from the group.
"Now, this is what we needed!" Dwalin exclaimed between bites. "No more leaves and twigs for us!"
Even Thorin, who had maintained a somewhat aloof air, seemed impressed as he took a bite of the seasoned venison. "You've done well, Jimmy," he said with a rare smile. "Perhaps we should make you the company's cook from now on."
Sirius laughed, shaking his head. "I'll leave the hunting to you lot, but I'm happy to lend a hand when it comes to making the food taste decent."
As they feasted around the fire, the atmosphere in the camp lightened. The dwarves, who had been tense with the weight of their quest, now shared stories and jokes, their spirits lifted by the meal. Even Gandalf, who had been more withdrawn as of late, joined in on the merriment, puffing on his pipe and watching the group with a twinkle in his eye.
The next morning, with full bellies and renewed energy, the company packed up their supplies and prepared to set off once more. Though they were leaving the safety and beauty of Rivendell behind, they did so with a sense of purpose and determination.
Author's Note:
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