Hope Almost Lost

Chapter One: We Have Visitors!

A/N: Throughout my story you will come across some Elvish words. The translations for any foreign word in italics will be at the end of each chapter. If you see any words that are not translated for you, don't hesitate to let me know(nicely plz!) And now back to your regularly scheduled Wattpad reading:

Tiathal's POV
Time Change: 29 years

I stood looking over a balcony with the most beautiful view. In sight is practically all of Rivendell. I would come here often, when I wanted quiet and to be alone. I would admire the beauty of the land I called home. Even though I was far away, being an elf I had very good sight and could make out tiny details such as the color of someone's eyes. Every time I was up here, I would try to see the land beyond Rivendell. All I could make out was a blur of green and blue.

I ran my hand over my bow. Yes, I am a female elf with a bow and arrows. My mother had given me this bow, and I had treasured it ever since, taking it with me practically everywhere. I've always wanted to go on an adventure, and fight like my mother. She had surprised everyone when she would go to battle. I wanted to be like her, always running off somewhere, to do something adventurous. I refuse to be cooped up in Imladris- despite its natural beauty- playing music and singing for mere entertainment.

I heard footsteps running toward me. I slung my bow over my shoulder and turned around to see my brother, Elathalion. I smiled as his long, brown hair flew in front of his face as he ran, shielding his deep blue eyes from seeing anything but the ground below him. Even at a distance, I could see his eyes widen as he caught sight of me.

"Autumn," my brother called as he came running toward me. "What is it, Elathalion?" I asked him. He was never usually this excited about something. My heart jumped in my chest, wanting to know what had put my brother in such a good mood. Elathalion stopped running when he approached me. Panting, he said "We have visitors! They are here for some meeting!"

"Who might those visitors be?" I asked, curious to know more. "There are men, elves of Mirkwood, dwarves-" I cut off my brother's sentence. "Dwarves?" I asked. "There are a few hobbits too, but yeah. Dwarves." he said, in a tone that told me that he agreed with my confusion. Dwarves and elves had an extreme hatred for each other. "And you won't even believe this! The two dwarves are Glóin and his son, Gimli. I heard one of the Woodland elves talking about him. Apparently, Glóin had been with Thorin and his company when they went to reclaim the Lonely Mountain!" My eyes widened and my mouth fell open at this.

About 60 years ago, a group of dwarves, accompanied by the hobbit Bilbo Baggins and wizard Gandalf the Grey, set out to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. The mountain had once been inhabited by dwarves under the rule of Thror, until it was stolen. A dragon- Smaug- had taken the Lonely Mountain and all its riches along with it. If leaving the dwarves homeless wasn't enough, they were later on attacked by orcs. They requested the aid of Mirkwood, but their request was turned down. What not many know, is that when word reached Rivendell, my mother led a group of armed elves that set out to help the dwarves. None returned. At least, not alive. It was when my mother's body was sent back to us covered in flowers that I developed my own hatred for these small bearded creatures. It was their fault she died.

Elrond didn't seem to care, so when King Thror's grandson, Thorin, arrived with his company, they were taken well care of. That was when I met their "burglar" Bilbo. He's a strange yet brilliant hobbit, and I still see him, though rarely. In fact, he is visiting here in Rivendell right now. When I see him, he will tell me stories, as always. He has always been a great story teller, ever since we met. The first story he told me was that of the dwarves. The hobbit had made it sound as if this disgusting band of dwarves was rather innocent, but I remember him telling of the arkenstone. The arkenstone was a jewel found in the center of the mountain by miners, and King Thror became greedy and wanted it for himself. He then became a selfish brat, and wanted all the gold and riches for himself. So when Smaug came, Thror was killed because he couldn't bear to part with a single coin. His son, Thráin, was captured and never heard from again. So Thorin was left with 12 dwarves to rule over and no mountain. When they did reclaim the mountain, the same sickness came over the young king.