One Ring to troll them all

Wear your Hope like a Crown

After the events in the Hall of Fire and the bewildering memories I had acquired from Mairon's past, I spent most of my time wandering around Rivendell, exploring all its hidden corners, and occasionally visiting the kitchens - where I had developed a newfound fondness for elven sweets. If Smaug cherished gold as much as I cherished these delicacies, it was no wonder he stole the dwarves' home to hoard all the gold for himself. It must have felt absolutely splendid for him.

On a different note, I had noticed that Bilbo seemed to be worried about me, which perplexed me because there really was no reason for concern. After all, I had merely experienced a flashback of Mairon's past when I shouldn't have, and I had remembered a lesson with Yavanna herself, one of the Valier, which let me invoke a freaking Song of Power that transformed the Hall of Fire into the Hall of the Forest.

Alright, perhaps there was something to be worried about. Still, Bilbo had no way of knowing all that. So I just smiled at him whenever he happened to spot me, and it seemed to reassure him, even if only slightly.

Elrond informed Gandalf and me that Galadriel and Saruman would arrive in the evening of the sixth day of our stay here, which meant that nearly a week would have passed since we reached Rivendell. I dearly hoped Thorin wouldn't do anything too drastic due to the long wait. We had crossed paths a couple of times, and each time he looked more incensed than before.

Oh dear.

Meanwhile, Bilbo and I were thoroughly enjoying Rivendell. My dear hobbit friend practically skipped all around the place, appearing half his age as he joyously chattered with the elves he encountered, one after another. Not that they minded. I couldn't tell if it was because Bilbo was a hobbit and therefore a rarity for an elf, or it was simply Bilbo being Bilbo. It was probably a combination of both that endeared him to everyone he met.

Anyway, I discreetly grabbed one of the freshly baked cupcakes - there was an elven maiden who was always happy to share treats with me whenever I asked. I thanked her and swiftly left the kitchen before the chef could discover me there again. He wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but sometimes he looked at me as if he wanted to throttle me for stealing food and distracting the other cooks. It was actually refreshing to encounter someone who treated me normally and not like an angel descended from the heavens, so I didn't mind.

I hummed contentedly, munching on the treat, as I made my way to one of my newfound favorite spots in Rivendell. During one of my previous explorations of the Last Homely House, I had stumbled upon a beautiful garden nestled within a courtyard. Considering the immense size of Elrond's house - which was more of a mansion, really - it wasn't surprising that he also had his own private garden. Then again, Elrond wasn't the only resident. His sons and Arwen also lived here, as did Glorfindel - somewhat surprisingly. However, it made sense given his important status; the golden-haired elf even had his own wing all to himself!

My intention was to head to the garden and sit on one of the benches amidst the lush foliage while I contemplated my existence. However, my plans were abruptly disrupted.

Well, it was more like someone disrupted my plans.

At the top of one of the tallest trees in the garden, there was a dark-haired boy who appeared to be hiding from someone. He didn't seem frightened or anything, so I wasn't alarmed. In fact, he was barely able to contain his giggles.

I gazed at him in utter bewilderment for a moment, attempting to comprehend where this literal child had come from and what he was doing there. Then, it suddenly dawned on me.

Holy shit. It was Aragorn. A young Aragorn, to be precise. I had completely forgotten that Aragorn had grown up in Rivendell since he was a very young child. Of course, I would encounter him here!