The Lonely Mountain [1]

A Short Rest

Amara left Arwen and set off through the halls she had grown up in. She had not been home in a little over three months. Whenever she returned from a longer trip, she would walk the halls to let the familiarity calm her restless soul. She entered the portrait gallery and found Bilbo admiring the portraits. He looked around as she walked in and she offered him a smile which he gladly returned.

"She's beautiful." He remarked, gazing at the portrait of a blonde elleth.

"She is." Amara said, as she took a seat on the cushioned bench that faced the portraits.

"Who is she?"

"Celebrían, lady of Lothlórien, daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn." Amara leaned forward with a sad smile on her face. "My mother."

Bilbo glanced at her before turning back to the portrait. "What happened to her?"

"She was travelling to see my grandparents when her group were ambushed by orcs. My brothers managed to get to her and my father healed her, but she never truly recovered. The following year she sailed west, to the undying lands." Amara told him.

"I'm sorry."

"It was a very long time ago." She murmured as Bilbo turned his attention to the portrait next to Celebrían.

"Has your father remarried?" Bilbo enquired.

Amara stood and walked over to her mother's portrait. "No. Elves only love once in their life, once they have found the one, they will never be with another."

"Have you? F-found yours, I mean?" Bilbo stammered.

"Yes, I have. All though you will not find him here. We are not married. In fact, it has been fifty years since I have last seen him." She gave him a sad smile.

"That's a long time."

She looked at Bilbo. "Not to an elf."

"May I ask why you never wed?"

"We intend too, but have yet to have the chance. We are betrothed but both our realms need defending and circumstances have prevented it I suppose."  She twisted the silver betrothal ring on her finger as she walked to the portrait next to her mothers. "The path our quest will take may bring us across his path however."

Bilbo gave her a smile as he looked at the next portrait with interest. "Now that, I believe, is you."

"My brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, my sister, Arwen, and myself. I am the oldest of my siblings, my brothers are barely a few years younger than me, but Arwen is closer to a century younger than us."

"A century." Bilbo looked shocked.

Amara laughed lightly. "We are half-elves, Mr Baggins. We have the choice between the immortality of the elves and the mortality of men."

"How old are you?"

"I am getting closer to three millennia." Amara smiled at Bilbo's expression. "But I think that is enough of a history lesson, my father will expect us for dinner." She smiled and led the way to the banquet hall.

"Kind of you to invite us. I'm not really dressed for dinner." Amara heard Gandalf tell her father as she and Bilbo walked into the hall, just as Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin entered through the other door.

"Well, you never are." Elrond told him with a warm smile.

All the others were already seated. Amara took her place next to her father as one of the other elves brought them all their food. Dinner, as usual by elvish custom, contained no meat. This did not go down well with the dwarves. Amara looked over to Kili who was winking at the elf playing the harp, she supressed a laugh as Dwalin gave him a stern look.