We were close to the camp when Bilbo saw something.
"Kael! Does that look like a cave entrance to you?" He asked, pointing at a spot between some trees.
I hummed contemplatively. "Yes, that is precisely what it is. Let's take a closer look."
After our conversation, I had hidden my light again, and we had both started walking back towards our group when we stumbled upon the troll caves.
The place didn't reek at all. In fact, it seemed as if it had been abandoned for hundreds of years. Everything was filled with spiderwebs and dust, and there were only some human bones that seemed to be really old.
The place was full of trinkets, though. Armors, weapons, treasure chests... I instructed Bilbo to hide some of the chests in a crevice between some rocks, which he covered with some spiderwebs – if Bilbo came through here in the return trip, he would be able to keep them for himself – while I looked around, trying to find a very specific something.
Well, some things.
I actually found them in quite a humorous way. It happened when I was walking towards the end of the cave, and I tripped over a small weapon that was on the ground, covered with dust, and I leaned against a stack full of old weapons so that I wouldn't fall.
And there, I found two elven blades.
Orcrist and Glamdring.
Heck yeah.
"Oh! What is that?" Bilbo asked, having reached me, and he leaned down to take the thing that had made me trip.
I laughed uproariously when I saw it was Sting, the future weapon Bilbo would use, and would later on be owned by Frodo Baggins – or not, who knew?
Anyway, what were the chances?
"What?" Bilbo frowned at me.
"Nothing, nothing at all," I chuckled, and I took the two elven swords from the stack to bring them with me, "you should hold onto that," I nodded at Bilbo's small sword, "it is the perfect size for you, and it is of Elvish make. The blade will glow blue if there are orcs or goblins nearby."
Bilbo looked at the weapon with a newfound appreciation. "Huh. That is handy, I suppose. Alright, then. Although I do not know how to use it."
"And I hope that you never have to, Bilbo. But sometimes, there is no choice for us but to fight. But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."
Twenty minutes later, we were back at the meeting place.
Gandalf was visibly flustered, puffing on his pipe while he paced all around. When he saw us, he looked a mix between relieved and angry.
"Where were you? You have been gone for hours! The dwarves were getting antsy, and I cannot say I was any better! Of all the irresponsible things to do –!"
I looked over and saw all the dwarves were still wide awake, some more worried than others, although Balin looked as calm as always. In fact, he seemed as if he was going to fall asleep at any second.
"I told you they would be back, laddie," Balin addressed Thorin, who merely looked at Bilbo and me and grunted.
"At least they did something useful," he grumbled, gazing at the pile of wood for the fire Bilbo was carrying that we had collected before going back.
I bounced on my feet excitedly and smiled at Gandalf.
"You will never guess what we found! Ta-da!" I exclaimed, holding the elven swords, one in each hand, and lifting them above my head like some sort of preacher, or Rafiki holding Simba.
Gandalf's eyebrows shot to his forehead. "Where, pray tell, did you find those?"
"In a troll cave!" I answered brightly, and I quickly continued after seeing the group's alarm, "do not worry, it has been abandoned for years! No trolls around here! Who would have thought, right?"
Gandalf gently took both swords from my hands and examined them closer, handing Orcrist to Thorin, who had just approached us. "These are of Elvish make. They were forged in Gondolin, by the High Elves, of the First Age. You could not wish for a finer blade," he reproached Thorin, who had been about to drop Orcrist.
I almost rolled my eyes at Thorin's bullheadedness. One of these days, his pride was going to get him killed.
Gandalf sheathed Glamdring, and we all retired for the night, Thorin and Oin taking the first watch.
The good thing about having sixteen people in a group was that the watches were way shorter, and we could all rest more – not that I needed to sleep much in this form, but whatever.
The next day, while we were packing all the bags again, preparing to continue our journey, I detected a small presence near us, and I looked over and saw the little girl from the night before peeking out from behind a big rock that was between our campsite and the house.
The child saw me looking at her and yelped, hiding her little face behind the rock again.
I chuckled. Cute.
I continued packing my things and waited for her to make a move. When she finally gathered the courage to look again, I smiled gently at her.
The child blushed and took some steps closer to me.
"Are you an elf, mister? You are very pretty! Mama said they are pretty and tall," the little girl said.
I laughed softly and slowly crouched down so as not to scare her.
"I am not an elf, little one, but thank you for saying that," I answered, and I tilted my head, "Astrid, was it?"
Astrid nodded, surprised. "Wow! How did you know my name?"
"I heard your mother yesterday," I chuckled, "were you aware that your name means divinely beautiful? Your parents sure chose well!" I exclaimed brightly.
Astrid blushed furiously and looked at the floor shyly. "T-thank you very much, mister!"
"Call me Kael, please," I winked at her, and I smiled when she laughed. "Here," I whispered, and with a hand, I touched the grass in front of us and a two feet long white daisy slowly rose from the ground, its petals slowly opening to gather the warmth of the sunlight pouring down on it.
I gently plucked the daisy from the ground and offered it to Astrid with a flourish. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady."
Astrid looked at me and then at the flower, open-mouthed. She took the daisy with trembling fingers and simply stared at it.
"How did you do that?" She asked in awe.
I winked at her and put a finger on my lips. "Magic," I whispered, "but it is a secret, alright?"
Astrid gasped, and she furiously nodded. "I will not tell. Thank you very much for the flower, Mr. Kael!" She waved at me and skipped towards the house, the daisy gently swinging in her grip.
I jumped when Bilbo's voice sounded behind me. "You are very good with kids, Kael."
"What have I told you about sneaking up on me?" I asked him, almost whining at that point. What was it with the people in this world and their need for scaring the hell out of me, really?
Bilbo at least had the decency to look apologetic. "Someone could have seen you doing magic, Kael. Are you sure that was wise?"
I shrugged and looked over at the dwarves, who by that point were already gathering all the ponies to leave.
"Nobody saw," I pointed out, and Bilbo slowly nodded, still a little unsure.
"Do not worry, Bilbo," I reassured him, "as soon as we reach Rivendell, I was planning to tell them. It would not matter anyway."
"If you say so, Kael…," none of us noticed Gandalf staring at me contemplatively from a few feet away, his gaze lingering on the spot where a flower had magically bloomed after feeling the spark of a hidden Maia.
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We had been riding for half a day when Thorin suddenly moved up from the back to reach Gandalf at the front.
"Something is coming!" he alerted us, and I instantly had my guard up.
Gandalf turned his horse around and urged us to form a circle. "Stay together! Hurry, now! Arm yourselves!"
I heard a sound that was suspiciously similar to Santa Claus' sleigh and sighed.
Fucking hell.
"Thieves! Fire! Murder!!" Radagast himself appeared in all his raggedy glory from some bushes, his eyes frantic while he scanned the group for Gandalf.
Fucking bloody hell.
Gandalf approached him, throwing us an appeasing look. "It is Radagast the Brown! What on earth are you doing here?" He asked the shorter wizard.
Radagast dismounted and fidgeted with his hands nervously. "I was looking for you, Gandalf! Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong!"
Gandalf lifted his eyebrows in askance. "Yes?"
"Just give me a minute!" Radagast exclaimed in frustration, "Oh, I had a thought and now I have lost it! It was…it was right there, on the tip of my tongue! Oh! It is not a thought at all It is a silly old…stick insect," Gandalf slowly removed it with a hand, which made most of the dwarves look at it disturbingly.
I frowned, not interested in that. What I wanted to know was why Radagast was here! Sauron couldn't be back, so what the hell, man!?
Both wizards moved a little ways away from the group to have their secret conversation, but I totally eavesdropped on them like the shameless man I was.
"Webs?" What do you mean?" Gandalf was asking.
So. The spiders were still there. Good to know, but irrelevant. What I was more interested in was…
"No, Gandalf, it is not abandoned. A dark power dwells in there…such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. I saw him, Gandalf. From out of the darkness…a Necromancer has come. Radagast. Quick! Quick, quick! Wait for me! Sorry," he apologized after remembering what had happened.
I quietly freaked out while Gandalf gave Radagast some of his old Toby.
Because what the fuck.
Something…something was wrong. Something was different – of course it was different, what was I expecting, really?
But Radagast hadn't mentioned any spirit of the dead, nor had he brought a Morgul blade, so the Nazgûl were gone. But then…who was in Dol Guldur?!
And then a warg's howl sounded from the distance and I resigned myself to not knowing what was going on until we had made it to Rivendell – and perhaps not even then…would I have to go to Dol Guldur with the others if they did go like in the movies?
Damnit.
I so hated creepy places.
Radagast mounted his sleigh and went off to distract the orc pack with his Rhosgobel rabbits while we ditched the ponies to try and lead them astray – which was fucking ridiculous because it was faster to go with the ponies, but what did I know?
Which, of course, meant that the orcs saw us after the orc that Kili shot made a dying sound that echoed through the whole damn plains, and they all started chasing us instead of Radagast.
I urged Bilbo to run faster while I deflected some arrows with my sword, and we all followed Gandalf as he led us towards the secret entrance that would bring us to the Hidden Valley of Imladris.
Fili looked around wildly after Gandalf had jumped inside the underground tunnel. "Where is Gandalf?"
Dwalin grunted and felled an orc with his axe. "He has abandoned us!"
I scoffed, and I quickly moved Gloin out of the way of another oncoming arrow. He grunted in thanks.
"He has not abandoned us, you ridiculous dwarf! Get in that passage, all of you!" I exclaimed, pointing at the tunnel I mentioned.
The dwarves gave exclamations of surprise, and Bombur was the first to jump in, almost falling on top of Gandalf's face in the process, who had been about to peek out to tell us to follow him.
I followed after Kili, who had been the last one to jump, and before I fell down completely, I heard a horn blowing in the distance and saw a glimpse of a black horse mounted by a dark-haired elf.
A dead orc tumbled inside the tunnel, drawing alarmed cries from the group, more so when Thorin saw the arrow protruding from its chest.
"Elves," he gritted out.
Dwalin, who had been looking at the way between the tall rock walls that led away from the battlefield, spoke up. "I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or not?"
Bofur snorted and ran towards it. "We follow it, of course!"
Gandalf, the sly bastard, agreed with him. "I think that would be wise."
We followed after Bofur and Gandalf along the narrow path. As we ventured deeper into the heart of the rocky pass, the walls almost seemed to close in around us, and I thanked the heavens that I wasn't claustrophobic. Besides, there was something almost alluring about the pathway that made you want to keep going.
I wondered if it was imbued with the residual magic that came from Rivendell and that's why it was so entrancing.
After walking for some time, the stone walls gradually gave way to the breathtaking view of the valley that lay before us.
Nestled amidst the towering mountains, the valley truly was beautiful. Lush, vibrant vegetation adorned the slopes, and waterfalls cascaded down from the peaks, feeding the winding river that meandered through the place. At its heart, the breathtaking view of Rivendell revealed itself, the buildings blending perfectly with the landscape.
I could almost feel the concentrated magic of Vilya, enveloping the whole valley like a warm, comfortable blanket.
"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf announced, "In the common tongue, it is known by another name."
"Rivendell," Bilbo breathed, and looked at me, his eyes full of wonder and excitement. I winked.
I did tell him we would be visiting Rivendell.
Thorin looked angrily at Gandalf. "This was your plan all along, was it not, Wizard? To seek refuge with our enemy."
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf huffed, "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."
I restrained my laughter at seeing Thorin's indignant face.
"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us," he snarled.
"Of course they will. 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."
And this time I couldn't hold it back. I started laughing hysterically after hearing Gandalf insult Thorin to his royal dwarven face and followed Bilbo, who had started walking towards Rivendell and was almost vibrating in his excitement to meet the elves.
Gandalf the Grey.
What a fucking savage.
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We walked down the cliff and crossed the small and narrow stone bridge that allowed us to reach Rivendell. It led to a beautiful, round courtyard adorned with two statues of elven warriors at its entrance. As we approached, I noticed some elves looking at us from the first building.
Two elven guards stood on the long staircase in front of us, and another elf passed between them and approached us. "Mithrandir," he said, following the customary elven greeting. He placed his hand over his heart and extended it outwards with a slight bow of his head.
Gandalf returned the greeting. "Ah, Lindir."
I rolled my eyes and stood a little off to the side with Bilbo, who was still looking around, completely entranced. In fact, Bilbo walked towards the right, where there were some trees, and placed his hand on the bark of one of them.
"Can you feel it, Kael? The trees here…they are so alive. So vibrant," Bilbo said in awe.
I chuckled and gently batted away a wandering thin branch filled with leaves that had been trying to touch my hair. "Yes, Bilbo. They are certainly joyful beings."
I found it completely ridiculous that the connection hobbits had with nature hadn't been more explored in the story. While Tolkien did write letters about some of it, and maybe there were small passages through the books that referenced it – I certainly didn't remember every line I had read – it wasn't explained more thoroughly. Bilbo was practically hugging the tree, for goodness' sake.
"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf was telling Lindir.
"My Lord Elrond is not here," Lindir replied.
Gandalf's eyebrows shot upwards. "Not here? Where is he?"
And then there was the sound of a hunting horn and of horses' hoofbeats hitting the ground. The dwarves yelled in alarm and rapidly closed ranks in a tight circle, their weapons drawn, which, rude.
They didn't even notice Bilbo and me weren't there until the horses had already made it to the courtyard. Thorin looked wildly at both of us, and I happily waved at him with a silly smile. Bilbo was still quite preoccupied with the tree. It must have been a very interesting tree indeed.
Two horses broke from the group, one black and the other as white as the snow. But what caught everyone's attention were the riders. Both elves, both tall, regal, and imposing to some, and both looked completely opposite to each other.
Golden and brown hair crowned by a silver circlet.
I softly elbowed Bilbo, who snapped out of his admiring-the-vegetation state and seemed to register then all the people that had appeared.
And that's when he also processed that yes, they were actually elves, and his mouth fell open in complete amazement.
I found it amusing that during all the introductions, Elrond speaking with Gandalf with freaking Glorfindel at his side, and more introductions, this time with Thorin and the elves who already knew about them, no one even thought of looking our way nor did they seem to detect us.
I was planning on saying something funny, or at least clearing my throat to announce our presence when the tree – the freaking tree – chose for me and decided that it would be a great idea to reach out with three of its branches and play with my red hair. Which, why.
Bilbo just snickered, the traitor.
I hissed, batting away one of the branches again - what was its fixation with my hair, anyway? "Could you stop it! Ow! Not the hair, damn it all!"
So while I practically wrestled with the tree to try and get its branches and leaves off me, everyone's eyes snapped to us, noticing then that yes, there were, in fact, more people in the vicinity.
Bilbo, the adorable dork, smiled awkwardly and lifted a hand in greeting while I was occupied trying to get the plant off me without breaking it – which was nearly impossible, by the way.
All the elves looked at the tree and then looked at me with an incredulous look that basically read 'what the fuck' and Glorfindel took a hesitant step towards me.
"Mairon?!" He exclaimed in absolute shock, and of course that was the moment when the tree decided that it had had enough of messing with me and retracted its branches, falling still as if it hadn't been moving just a moment before.
And I could have sworn, for an utterly, infuriating moment, that it was freaking laughing at me.
I sighed and looked heavenwards to ask for patience. "Goldilocks," I said in turn.
Elrond just stared. "Oh dear."
I gazed at Bilbo, who was chuckling to himself – the absolute traitor – the dwarves, who looked absolutely confused, the elves, who looked one step away from a heart attack after hearing Glorfindel speak my name and hearing my nickname for him, Gandalf, who looked a mix between terrified, angry, shocked, exasperated and fucking done with his life, and finally, Glorfindel, who was still gaping at me without his usual dignity and seemed to want to ask me a million questions.
Oh dear, indeed.