Dragon Changer (a Hobbit fanfic)

Rivendell

The first thing I heard after I slid down the stone hole was the Elven hunting horns. It appeared that I had slid down right in time, avoiding the risk of the Elves spotting me. For a few hours at least.

There was a bow twang, accompanied by a screech as a slain Orc tumbled down the hole. It rolled until it reached the bottom, finally resting on its back on the rocky floor. Both Thorin and Gandalf checked to make sure it was dead, though I could have told them that. From this close, I had heard the exact moment when it's heart stopped beating. It was an annoying ability that often came as a distraction during a battle but one that I had learned to ignore most of the time.

Soon, the sound of the Elven horses as well as the Orc shrieks faded away. Dwalin disappeared around the corner of the cave for a moment before he returned. "I cannot see where the pathway leads." He reported. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it of course!" Bofur says. As much as I hate the thought of the Elves looking down on me, I have to agree with him. It was the smartest decision available, we need information and some rest. Especially after all that running. I wasn't very good at long distance.

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf replies, voicing my own thoughts. One by one, the Dwarves file through the cave, slowly walking closer to our end destination, Rivendell. Small rays of sunlight filter through the openings in the roof, reminding us that it was around midday and we had yet to sleep from the previous day.

Very few words were exchanged during the journey, though I did manage to shoot a glare Gandalf's way. He knew I tried to avoid Elves, with good reason (unlike a certain someone also present in the company), but he lead us here anyways. I have such nice friends.

Eventually, the suffocatingly tight ravine opened up and I received a startlingly good view of what was perhaps the most beautiful place in all of Middle Earth. Astounded by its appearance, I froze for a moment, voicing one single word. "Wow." Everything, from the architecture to the placement was unbelievable in its perfection. The sun caught on the water as it fell all around the landscape, but mostly around the buildings. The roofs and wall seemed to fit in perfectly with the trees scattered all around. Even the bridges, connecting our bit of land to theirs, appeared wonderful with graceful, flowing arches. It looked like something from a dream.

"The Valley of Imladris." Remarked Gandalf, as he caught up from the rear. "In the common tongue, it's know by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo finished, looking just as amazed as I felt.

"Here lies the Last Homely House East of the sea."

Angrily, Thorin marched over to Gandalf. "This was your plan all along." He accused. I'm glad I wasn't the only one to spot his plan. "To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield." I snorted. If we wait five minutes to give the Elves a chance to know him better, that would change. Gandalf continued. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

Thorin retorted back, "You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

"Which is why we don't tell them about." I muttered to no one. It was a simple way around all this nonsense but something we couldn't do if we wanted answers.

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered." Gandalf replied. "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 leave the talking to me." I was quite fine with that, it left me with more time to figure out how to become as small as possible. Oh why did it have to be an Elven city. So many races in the world and it had to be Elves. I just had to hope they didn't try to lock me up upon sight.