The Northern Mountains

~Seventeen~

seventeen

"I shall return to the dwarves, my love."

Hartlyn turned to face Jon before kissing his scarred brow then his lips, "Make sure they don't get themselves and Bilbo killed?"

The man chuckled, not surprised that his Queen already knew what was what, "Of course."

"Stay safe," she whispered once more before the Northern King walked off.

Elrond, who had watched the entire thing, but didn't hear anything, let his gaze follow Jon as he left them, before moving on towards a large, round pavilion on the top of a hill with Gandalf behind him and Harltyn just...

Toddling on.

The Istari was starting to talk the elf's ear off about the dwarves, the Misty Mountain and a dragon.

The Mistress was however just enjoying the view, it was beautiful, but not home. As the three of them approached a gorgeous looking pavilion atop a tall hill, Gandalf spoke his final words on the matter, "I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he is answerable to anyone. Nor, for that matter, am I."

Elrond turned his blank face to the wizard, a blank, but still unimpressed expression on his face, "It is not me you must answer to."

The two exchanged glances, the air thick and heavy.

"Lady Galadriel."

Hartlyn met the pale eyes of the white haired she elf, a curious, yet wary glint in her orbs, before the she elf looked back to the Istari, "Mithrandir," the Lady of Light smiled softly, "It has been a long time."     

"Age may have changed me," Gandalf responded with a smile of his own, bowing his head at her, "but not so the Lady of Lorien. I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you."

Galadriel's eyes shined with fondness, before she looked to the Mistress once more, then made her way over to the redhead. And as she drew closer, the two both felt their auras touch, testing each other. The dark and the light, not clashing, but definitely sensing what power the other might hold.

"It is a surprise to meet the Queen of the North, Lady Black. I've heard many things."

Raising an eyebrow, Hartlyn then pursed her lips to stop her smirk, "As have I, Lady of Light."

The she elf gave her a slight smile, "I have always wondered what kind of person you truly are..."

This time, it was the Mistress's turn to smile, the curve of her lips entertained, her emerald green eyes full of mischief, "Many people wonder."

Galadriel's smile widened, sensing a spark of friendship and perhaps, kinship, but before she could say anything-

"He didn't," Their attention was taken by the man in white robes, long white hair with a matching beard and bushy black eyebrows, "I did."

Hiding a wince, Gandalf obviously not being too fond of this person either, turned to him, "Ah. Saruman."     

"You've been busy of late, my friend."