Jeweled dolls of Durin

Home is where the heart is

A/N: the mention of old friends of Dwalins are from my other story Dwalins Angel. (Arathorn, Gilraen, and Aragorn) 

song is by Gabrielle Alpine- home is where the heart is

OUTSIDE FOREST GATE - ELF PATH ( 2 -HALF MONTHS)

It had been over 2 months since the group of travelers had left their dear hobbit friend, Bilbo, back in the Shire...with tears of farewell and promises of visits in the future on both sides. With many hugs, kisses and tears they finally departed from him after spending nearly a week in the Shire to help him out in cleaning up the mess that had accumulated in his absence and what the other hobbits had done when they believed him dead.

The party made their way along the Great East Road towards Rivendell, as tales of past travels through this region, regaled the attentive listeners ears. One could hear Bofurs beautiful rich voice weaving a breath taking yarn of the Trolls and their near demise at those gruesome beasts hands. The children ( and adults) would sit upon their wagons or mounts with rapt attention as his words painted a spine tingling , yet exciting picture to the listeners there...a few women were terrified at the recounting as their minds envisioned their loves peril..later on anger would replace that fear inside that would come out whenever they were reunited once again.

Things took on a lighter side whenever Amari gave a depiction of the time that her and Dwalin had met the King and Queen of the Dunedains, Arathorn and Gilraen, and their baby son, Aragorn. She told of how a couple years ago her and Dwalin received a letter that said Arathorn had been killed while hunting down an Orc pack and how Gilraen and Aragorn were now residing in Rivendell. Bofur was a bit surprised to hear this news, but upon reflection he remembered Dwalin disappearing for a bit while they were there.

"Hmmm...that explains when he went missing fer a few hours while there. Maybe whenever we pass through yeh can ask if she's still there." he saw her smile lighting up at the prospect of seeing her friend again after nearly 10 years. See one another, they did, in Rivendell where both women traded tales of the last 10 years while both of their sons , Grawlin and Aragorn, played and explored the ancient halls of Imraldis, together. Bofur and Tia sought out the aid of Lord Elrond in trying to find out anything about Griegurs elvish mother...but the only information he could find was she was a Sylvan elf from the Mirkwood region, which would explain why she abandoned her child. Mirkwoods disdain for Sylvan elves and dwarves was legendary, so a half breed of both would be ostracized beyond imagination. He spoke to both of them about the trials ahead of them in raising an half elf child, but after hearing the conviction in both of their voices and seeing the love within them he knew this child was in a good family and he gave them his blessing...and a promise of any advice they would need was just a letter away. 

The traveling party only rested in Rivendell for a few days..not wanting to push their elvish hosts welcoming nature by being tempted by the large sacred fountains to bathe in before they moved on again with elvish guides showing them the safe passage. Finally they made it to the edge of Mirkwood Forest at the Forest Gate, where they were meeting their elvish escorts who were going to give them guidance and protection through this perilous forest. They had received word back in Rivendell that a treaty had been put into place ,between Erebor and Mirkwood, that entailed safe passage for every wagon of dwarven refugees returning to Erebor , he would pay in starlight gems, give aid and fair trade to the elves of Mirkwood. As they drew closer they could see their escorts waiting for them to guide them past the hazy air that clouded the mind as it wrapped its clutching grasp around everything...past the giant man-eating spiders and safely to the other side as quickly as possible.

Once they reached the elves they were told they would wait till the morning before moving on along the path...so they were fresh for the grueling pace they would set since there would be no stops whatsoever. There was two camps made, one for the dwarves and one for the elves, at the entrance that the elves used to cross through Mirkwood. The sounds of cooking fires crackling in the central pit..the sizzling of food in their cooking vessels and soft voices as people talked to one another, all could be heard against the dark enshrouded forest.