Last Satyr of Middle Earth (Thorin Oakenshield)

Part 2

An orc rolls into the cave and Iris pokes it with her bow. It is dead but the arrow protruding from its chest does not calm the tense dwarves.

"Elves." The leader hisses throwing the arrow away.

"I do not see where the path leads. Do we follow it or not?" They look back where the cave leads elsewhere.

"Follow it of course." The dwarf with the funky hat says following the warrior dwarf. They all head out and Iris does not miss the words Gandalf mutter: "Yes, that would be wise."

Throwing him a look, she follows the dwarves falling in line behind the hobbit that reaches just her hips. Being a female, she is much shorter than her fellow Satyr. Standing beside a skin changer, the height difference would be extremely noticeable with her reaching just at their waist. The leader dwarf walks behind the Satyr and must stay a step away from her tail from whacking him in the face. The tail is long tail as long as the wizard's arm with a fur tip.

They emerge from the narrow rock walls to see a completely wonder. An elven city lies beyond them with a bridge leading from the mountain to the city. Waterfalls can be seen gushing down and the trees complimenting the white rock.

"The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue it's known by another name." Gandalf speaks behind them.

"Rivendell." Iris gaze down to the hobbit. He must have not seen this place before but only read it. Last she had heard, hobbits never venture out of their home so she believes everything is a first to see.

"This was your plan all along. To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here Thorin Oakenshield." So that is the name of the leader dwarf. Now knowing the name, it is apparent she is not among regular common dwarves. She is standing in the presence of Durin's folk, the strongest and noblest dwarves in middle earth. Dwarves of Erebor and now she understands the quest. They are heading to reclaim their home. She doesn't need the wizards words to tell her of their journey. "The only ill will here is that which you bring yourself."

"Gandalf ease up a little. You know what the Greenwood elves had done. It is not their fault for harboring distaste for aid among other kin of elf even if they had done nothing." Iris says defending the dwarves. She knows fully well how arrogant and selfish the greenwood King elf Thranduil is after his wife passing. It is not Rivendell elves that turned their back and Iris hopes the dwarves will come to see it that way too.

"No matter, if we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will the talking to me." Gandalf walks off leading the group down the stair path to the bridge.

"What about you Satyr?" Thorin asks her stepping to her side.

"What do you mean?"

"What are your thoughts on these elves?" Thorin seeks her council just for once seeing if she is trustworthy.

"Rivendell elves are less of their kin and more on the neutral side of things. They can voice their opinions, but they allow fate to handle things. You have no enemies here. The only real elf enemy would be the one that turned you away all those years ago. I do hear things Thorin." What the Satyr said seem to appease the dwarf but does not help ease his tense form.

They cross the bridge and the dwarf prince could not stop looking at how the Satyr acts beside his kin. She is at ease as her steps are lighthearted and her shoulders lowered with no tension whatsoever. Many questions fill his mind wanting to know more about this Satyr. Something lures him to stare and he looks away scolding himself at showing anything to the female. Thorin has to admit it is the first of seeing a real-life Satyr. The only tales he knows of her kind is that from Dwalin and his grandfather. Meeting one was once a dream of his when he was a younger lad and now he gets to meet one. A female no less even if he wanted to see what a real male satyr warrior looked like.

The company stuck together in a circle exchanging whispers at the foot of a staircase watching an elf descend them. His demeanor calm but also slight arrogant. Prideful.

"Lindir." Gandalf greets the elf.

"Mithrandir." The two speak in elvish tongue and Thorin note how the Satyr tilts her head curious.

"Do you not know elvish?" He can't help asking. Her honey eyes zero down at him, the sun turning them gold.

"I have never heard elvish before. My whole life I have only spoken the tongue of my people, some Khudul and some orcish and goblin but elvish. Nothing." Hearing she can speak some words in dwarfish, Thorin is beyond shocked.

A horn stops Thorin from saying anything more and he yells out to close ranks. The dwarves tighten their circle with Thorin, Iris, a younger looking dwarf, and the hobbit in the center as the older dwarves create a barricade. Tall horses come through and circle the dwarves sending them to grow more defensive.

"Lord Elrond." Gandalf introduces the company to the rider leader. An elf with long black hair on a black horse nod glancing at dwarves then his eyes pause on the tall figure in the circle.

"Apologies for speaking so rude but what creature might you be?" Elrond nor any of the elves have seen such creature before.

"I am the last Satyr of middle earth. I bear no ill will in entering your kingdom." Thorin is shocked with the respect held in her voice.

"We believed they had all died. We welcome you then young Satyr." She nods even as her fur bristled at being once more called young. She is not that young.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders." Elrond jumps off his horse addressing Gandalf. "Something or someone has drawn them near."

"Ah." Gandalf smiled. "That may have been us." He gestured to the dwarves, and Thorin left the center of his group, holding his axe low yet still at the ready as he shown himself to the elf.

"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain." Iris tilts her head curious as to how the elf know the dwarf.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin replies curtly, matching the stern gaze of the elf lord.

"You have your grandfather's bearing." Elrond smiled. He then begins speaking in loud elvish setting the dwarves at edge.

"What is he saying?" An orange haired dwarf calls out from the group thinking the elf is insulting them or even worse his leader Thorin. "Does he offer us insult?"

"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food." The dwarves look at the wizard before at the Satyr.

"Why are you all looking at me for?" She does not like all the stares.

"What say you lass?" an old dwarf, smaller than the rest but he makes up for it with wisdom.

"Um, it wouldn't hurt for some food. We have traveled and ran most of our digestion."

"Well, in that case, lead on." She giggles attracting everyone attention. Noticing a soft pink blush appears on her face. The elves lead the dwarves off as other prepare to feed the guests.