Dragon Changer (a Hobbit fanfic)

Escaping Rivendell

If anyone knows how to throw a feast, it's not the Elves. No meat was in sight, something the dwarves complained on end about. Elves danced around, blowing on flutes or strumming harps. It certainly felt like more of a fancy gathering than a meal.

"Kind of you to invite us." Gandalf said as both him and I followed Lord Elrond into the Elven hall. "Not really dressed for dinner." This made me pause and consider it. Did he ever wear anything other than his robes?

My question was mostly answered when Elrond replied with "Well, you never are." Too which they both chuckled, as old friends should after time apart. Although, I believe I ruined their reunion by following behind like a lost child.

We sat at a round table next to the dwarves table. Thorin sat beside me, as we both competed to see who could sit farther from the Elf. I won. Apparently there was no ill will between the Elves and I but being here with so many who knew what I was made me a tad bit uncomfortable.

Thorin handed his blade to Lord Elrond upon Gandalf's insistence. He examined it carefully, pulling it out of its sheath slightly. "This is Orcrist, the Goblin cleaver. A famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." Thorin inclined his head slightly towards the Elf, in thanks for the small blessing.

Elrond moved on to Gandalf's blade. "And this is Glamdring, the Foehammer. Sword of the King of Gondolin. These were made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age." I whistled slightly. Although I did not recognize them by sight, anyone who has had half a history lesson knew their names. They were unequalled swords, I can only hope Thorin manages to appreciate such a wonderful Elf made blade.

It appears Elrond is thinking in a similar manner to me when considering these blades. With a puzzled look, he turns to Gandalf. "How did you come by these?"

"We found them in a Troll-hoard on the Great East road shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs." Gandalf tells the Elven Lord almost excitedly. I see Thorin look towards Gandalf with a warning not to tell to much. Apparently it is too late, however, as Elrond's next question is "And what were you doing on the Great East road?"

Luckily, a mumbled reply for the wizard is enough to say this is not an easily talked about subject. Elrond sighs. "Fine. We shall continue this conversation after dinner." I breath freely in relief and begin to inquire about the city.

"My Lord, Rivendell is far to beautiful to be real. I've seen structures built by men for hundreds of years that look like a children's toy in comparison."

"Well, the race of men are considered children by some of my kin. However, I believe there is some hope for them yet." He smilies gently. "Rivendell itself is very old, and we try to maintain its beauty the best we can." We continue to converse about the architecture for a while, with occasional chime ins from Gandalf about somethings history or from Thorin about how the Dwarves did something differently or contributed to something in this way.

Unfortunately, the meal, though hardly satisfying is over far too quickly. While the majority of Dwarves made their way to a common area to have a proper feast, those of us from the upper table (along with Balin and Bilbo) follow Lord Elrond through the maze of Rivendell where the subject of our business here is breached again.

"Our business is no concern of Elves." Thorin insists.

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map." Gandalf demands.

"It is the legacy of my people." I sigh at Thorin's stubbornness. Before, I might have applauded it when it kept up from this place but now that we are here, it is simply keeping us from our goal. "It is mine to protect, as our its secrets."