Dragon Slayer- A Hobbit Fanfiction

Chapter 8: The Twisting Tales

TA 2941
Rivendell

     Bilbo followed after the dwarves, curious as they headed deeper into Rivendell. They entered another area, this one partly indoors and yet still open to the air. Light struck the stone, making it warm to the touch as he ran his hand along it. Birds didn't sing as loudly, as if they were remaining quiet. As if they were respecting something.

The group found themselves in one room filled with murals depicting scenes from elven history. He found himself studying them, the smooth brushstrokes and striking colors highlighting figures. A couple depicted battle scenes, others moments of victory. Each seemed to try and explain the millennia the elves remembered. Some he could recognize but most he did not. It felt like yet another sign of his ignorance to the world. Another mark of his ineptitude.

Still, Balin gladly explained all that he knew and Bilbo found that he wasn't the only one asking questions. It occurred to him that the dwarves had had such dislike for elves, few had even tried to learn elven history. Balin was probably one of the few who had made any effort. Yet even his knowledge had some gaps.

When asked, Nyx would quietly tell them the story, eyes flitting from moment to moment. Otherwise, she remained silent. Bilbo got the sense it was difficult for her to see events she had lived through lost to the distant past. Though he couldn't be sure, as Nyx's expression remained unreadable.

     They came to a gateway that opened up into a grove of trees. Those close to him, Bilbo realized, had been carved, showing a person from the past, frozen in memory. None of them dared pass through the entryway, feeling as if it was too sacred to enter into.

     Behind them, Nyx spoke, "This is the Grove of Warriors. Each tree is carved into an elf from our history, one who has died or passed on. Not all are soldiers but most are. The Grove seeks to preserve their memory."

     Balin turned to her, "May we enter?"

     She shook her head. "No. Only those with express permission from the Lord Elrond can enter. As of now, we lack it. Perhaps at another date."

     "Is it because we're dwarves?" Kíli asked bluntly, staring out at the grove.

     "It may be in part but certainly not in full. Elrond would likely give permission if you asked, he is a good man." She paused for a moment, a slight sorrow on her face. "Many of our younger kindred are not permitted in. The Grove shows many powerful figures. And many who have died fighting for the hope we could return home. The Kings of the Ñoldor have a resting place here. All the way in the center where the Kings Circle stands. My own family rests here."

     Bilbo stared at her, "I didn't realize the Ñoldor elves ever had kings."

     "The bloodline very nearly died out in the First Age. Of the direct descendants, only two remain. Elrond is one of them, though he, like the other descendant has refused the crown. Our age of kings is over." She tilted her head, staring down the long rows, a strange look in her eyes. "Some say another descendant is still here, still alive, but nobody is certain."

Dwalin glanced over at her, "How do they not know?"

"It's probably better if I just show you," Nyx replied, leading them away from the Grove.

Bilbo shared a glance with Ori and followed after her. A gateway soon appeared, made of a dark wood, perhaps ebony. It had been intricately carved in patterns of fire and water, figures wielding great swords and bows with their eyes inlaid with silver. Standing before it, the dwarves came to a halt, getting a similar feeling they had had when standing before the Grove.