In a Father's Embrace

Chapter 8

Hey guys!  I wanna dedicate this chapter to the amazing @-whitethorns  I recommend you all go and follow her and read her stuff.  It's fantastic!  

Anyway, I really want to thank her for sticking by my story and giving Thraya so much love.  It's hard sometimes to be motivated and I especially am always insecure about whether or not people like to read my stuff, but she has really helped me feel confident in my story!

Without any further ado, let us continue on Thraya's series of (mis)adventures!

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They trudged down the path Dwalin had found, but Gandalf's tone had Thraya uneasy. It was far too...triumphant. And the fact that he said it all but inaudible wasn't reassuring either. Her suspicions were soon confirmed when they reached the end of the rocky passage and spilled out onto a waterfall-flanked overlook of a beautiful city.

"The Valley of Imladris!" Gandalf announced. "In the Common Tongue, it is known by a different name."

"Rivendell," Thraya and Bilbo realized at the same time, Thraya with disgust, Bilbo with wonder.

"Here lies the last homely house East of The Sea," the wizard elaborated.

"This was your plan all along," Thorin said in an accusatory voice, pulling Thraya closer to him. "To seek refuge with our enemy!"

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf scolded. "The only ill-will to be found here is that which you bring yourself."

"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us," Thorin warned.

"Of course they will," Gandalf said irritably. "But we have questions that need to be answered. 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."

"That's reassuring," Thraya grumbled.

"I don't like this at all," Thorin murmured, clutching Thraya's hand. "Stay close, nathith."

"Right," she said in a small voice.

They made their way down into the city which Thraya had to admit was stunning. Everything about it was beautiful and regal. A bit pretentious, she told herself, feeling self-righteous now that she had found something wrong with it. She really didn't want to like it, but she really couldn't help it.

The place was breathtaking.

Inadvertently, she found herself relaxing. But she did still stay close to Thorin.

They gathered on a circular pavilion, the entrance of which was flanked by two monumental elven sculptures. Elves stood guard at the base of a sweeping staircase which was currently being descended by an elf...oh that wasn't a maiden.

"Elf men look like girls," she whispered to Thorin who chuckled slightly.

"Mithrandir!" the ellon called.

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf acknowledged. Thorin leaned over and murmured something to Dwalin in Khuzdul. It was too low for Thraya to catch, but she was too busy taking in the beauty of the valley and trying not to let herself get too comfortable.

The ellon Gandalf had called 'Lindir' spoke to Gandalf in his own tongue and much to her surprise, Thraya understood him perfectly.

"We heard you had crossed into the Valley."

"Adad," she said, her tone slightly nervous. "He is speaking elvish, right?"

"Yes," Thorin answered.

"Why do I understand him?"

Thorin fixed his eyes on her with confusion. "You do?"

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf declared in the common tongue.

"My Lord Elrond is not here," the elf said vaguely.

"Not here?" Gandalf prompted. "Where is he?"

Lindir was about to answer when a loud hunting horn sounded from behind and a small cavalry of elves rode into the courtyard.

The dwarves tensed. Thorin called out a dwarvish command to close ranks. The elven riders came charging in full speed and circled the party, carefully slowing their horses. Thraya recognized the mastery the elf warriors had over their mounts. In a very small space, they had managed to go from full speed to a complete stop without even coming close to trampling the dwarf party in the middle of their courtyard.

An ellon with long brown hair graced with a beautifully wrought circlet dismounted. "Gandalf!"

"Lord Elrond!" Gandalf greeted him.

"Oh," Thraya muttered softly. So this was the elf-lord? Like the one who had abandoned her mother and herself? She had no love for elven royalty.

Gandalf was speaking in Elvish and Thraya still understood him. "My friend! Where have you been?"

"This is so weird," she mumbled.

"We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the south," Elrond informed Gandalf.

"What are they saying?" Thorin whispered to Thraya.

She quickly relayed the conversation as Elrond continued to summarize his whereabouts.

"Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond commented in the common tongue. "Something or someone has drawn them near."

"Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf said, somewhat abashedly.

Afraid the wizard was about to give the elf more information than he needed, Thorin stepped forward. Thraya kept her hand in his and stood slightly behind him. Elrond's attention was drawn to him.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," Elrond said, his smile genuinely warm. Thraya relaxed.

Thorin did not. "I do not believe we have met," he said stiffly.

"You have your grandfather's bearing," Elrond explained. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed?" Thorin said, making no effort to keep the contempt out of his voice. "He made no mention of you."

"Adad," Thraya said softly, trying to calm him down.

With a slightly bemused look, Elrond spoke to Lindir in Elvish.

"What is he saying?" Gloin growled. "Does he offer us insult?!"

"No," Thraya said quickly. "He's warmly welcoming us and offering us food."

Elrond seemed to notice Thraya for the first time. He looked at her, somewhere between shocked and confused. He took a moment to carefully scrutinize her appearance. Thorin tightened his grasp on her hand and she looked down, slightly embarrassed and scared.

Elrond stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "There's no need to be afraid, little one. I just noticed an uncanny resemblance you bear to a dear friend of my daughter's. You wouldn't happen to know an elleth by the name of Tahra, would you?"

Thraya shrunk back against Thorin slightly and pressed her lips together.

"Yes," Thorin said. "Thraya is her daughter."

"A daughter?" Elrond gasped. "I'll admit it has been a long time since I had heard from her, but...how old are you, child?"

"I was born nearly fifty four years ago," she said softly.

"And you wouldn't have heard anything because Tahra died in childbirth," Thorin said coldly. "Though that probably means absolutely nothing to you."

Elrond's face fell. "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Thorin. This is tragic news. But here and now is neither the time nor place to discuss such matters. There will be more time to share news over dinner. Come."