Master Of Death

chapter two

I nodded, watching as the snake begins to slither away and I feel lonely again, but as I turned, the view of Rivendell brought hope. It was definitely not what I expected to find, even if it is the home of elves. My only experience with elves has so far been the house elves from my own world. This was all together different. There was no knowing which came first, their home, or the nature that it sat in. Everything was so intuned with the earth, the natural magic made all the more sense now.

Looking down the valley, the sight was beautiful and part of me already wants to simply stay here and stay out of the war. 'Maybe I made the right choice after all.' Drowned in the midday sun, Rivendell glows with the hues of nature, golds, reds and browns created a canopy and the light shone through illuminating the buildings, if you could even call them that being so open to nature around them, which were nestled perfectly within the forest of lush trees. Underneath ran the river I had crossed earlier and when I followed it with my eye, in the distance roared a giant waterfall. That in itself was just as breathtaking as the elven home. They fit together harmoniously.

Maybe if the sounds of war weren't still ringing in my ears, I would smile at the sound of the rushing water in my ears, I would smile at the sight of the nature-surrounded home. It doesn't even occur to me that I should have questioned the snake on who Elrond was. It took almost two hours before I finally reached the entrance, where I stopped by two elves. They were a far cry from the house elves that I am used too. They both stood almost a whole foot taller than me, they seem thin but their lithe bodies have a poise and tension that spoke of compact muscles and subtle strength. One of the elves had chocolate brown hair and emerald eyes only a few shades lighter than my own. His face gently angular and had a calm expression. The other elf had sharper cheekbones with brown eyes. His hair is also a brown sable colour. This elf was slightly shorter than the other but held himself just as tall and proud. The sight of them made me a little nervous.

"Halt," the guarding elf called, his hand raised to bar my entry. 'Elves are much more graceful and imposing in person.' I watched as the second elf walks forward, one hand resting on his bow, the other hovered near his quiver of arrows.

"State your name and business," the elf demanded, his green eyes narrowed in suspicion, long brown hair gently swaying as the wind blows.

"My name is Harry, and I would like to talk to Lord Elrond please." I wasn't entirely sure if that was the right thing to say, or even the right way of saying it, but I knew that going to Lord Elrond was the best course of action. The first elf, a male with golden brown eyes, nodded at the other, who turns and marches into the depths of Rivendell. The first then turns to me, clearly eyeing my bloodied and torn clothes. Awkwardly I shift on my feet, taking note of the state of my injuries.

"Do you require medical assistance?" The elf asked, his eyes continue to take in my disheveled appearance, his distaste is evident through his gaze.

"No, thank you. My injuries have healed on their own."

"Very well." Though there was a note of surprise in the elfs' features. We stood in silence until the second elf returned sometime later.

"Lord Elrond will meet with you on the west terrace, we will bring refreshments. Follow me." I nodded, following as the elf moved at a speedy yet graceful pace.

They took me to an open terrace with a breathtaking view. There is an ornate railing and the trees have grown so close I could easily climb up into the crown. There are only three chairs and a table in the midst of them. In one chair a regal looking elf sits. The elf that led me here bowed, then left presumably to watch the other side of the door. I watched as the taller elf, presumably Lord Elrond, raised a hand towards the other chairs, gesturing for me to take a seat. I did so, taking in his shadow-like hair and piercing blue eyes. He is sitting tall in his chair, hands gently folded on his thighs. His hair is long, falling past his shoulders with a thin elegant silver crown resting on his forehead, it was like lustrous ivy had been wrought into an intricate circlet.