Saving Durin {Hobbit/Thorin}

Chapter 11: When in Rivendell, wear a dress

Chapter 11:

When in Rivendell, wear a dress

The tunnel to Rivendell seems to stretch on endlessly, though I am not one to complain. The air is cool and the lack of a constant threat to our safety is refreshing, to say the least. My energy slowly begins to return to my body as the slow pace of our trek and darkness sink in. As a result, my body begins to glow like a flaming hearth and I am designated to lead the company through the shadowed passage.

Bilbo and I are the only ones who seem to enjoy our travel down the tunnel; the dwarves just look determined to reach the end while Gandalf bears a look of deep thoughtfulness. Eventually, we turn a curve in the path to see a light at the end of the tunnel. The dwarves see this as their chance to run ahead of me, the designated torch, in order to return to the natural light of day. To the non-dwarf company members, arriving at our destination is a blessing, but the dwarves see it as a threat as we now find ourselves in the home of elves.

"The Valley of Imraldis. In the Common Tongue, it's known by a another name," Gandalf says, a pleased smile painting his wrinkled face.

"Rivendell," Bilbo and I say in conjunction. The elven homeland stretches out in front us, in the form of a luscious valley. Waterfalls and ponds paint the scene, emphasized by the airy architecture of the Rivendell village. Trees shoot towards the sky with brave movements as the winds sweep in pleasant waves. Baked bread fills my nostrils and the songs of my fellow birds hang in the air. It is a sight to see.

"Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea," Gandalf says to the company.

"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy," scolds Thorin, his anger painted across his face.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself," Gandalf reminds the stubborn dwarf.

"It is better to think positive, especially when our quest is to slay a dragon," I wisely remind the dwarf who stands next to me.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us," Thorin exclaims, outright ignoring my words.

"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 Rue," Gandalf says, making me smile up at him.

"I do have a way with words, if I say so myself. The key is charm, I tell you," I add when Thorin looks at me. To further my point, I send him a smile that I hope reassures him of his safety here. Thorin still looks a bit tense, but his shoulders relax a bit.

We take his silence as a reason to keep moving into the valley. The company passes over bridges and through markets as elves pass by. Bilbo's face exclaims awe at the sheer beauty that is Rivendell, while I maintain a calm smile. It is not my first visit to elven city, so my awe is less poignant than Bilbo's.

Upon arrival in a courtyard, our eyes are drawn to the graceful descent of an elf down a set of marble stairs. It is Lindir, also known as the welcoming committee. His brown hair floats about his wide shoulders, his height towering over that of the dwarves as he approaches.

"Mithrandir!" Lindir greets Gandalf with his elvish name.

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf replies, giving the tall elf a welcoming gesture. I keep to my position next to Thorin, ready to take down the dwarf king if he decides to act violently.