Thorin makes his way over to me, but I barely notice it as a howl breaks the half silence.
Bilbo looks over to us worriedly, "Was that a wolf? Are there... Are there wolves out there?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Wolves? No, that is not a wolf," Bofur explains warily, glancing around anxiously.
Fear, anger, and slight worry flush through my veins as I slowly unsheathe my swords, bringing them up next to me. Glancing up at Thorin, who is now to my left, I meet his slightly worried, blue gaze with my own violet worried gaze.
Just then, a warg bursts through the trees, landing on Fili and preparing to kill. Thorin jumps into action, quickly killing the beast with his sword. The beast falls off of Fili, and he quickly scrambles to stand back up.
My hidden, pointed ears twitch slightly, trying, and succeeding, to pick up the sound of the wargs that are headed our way. My guess is that there are at least three hundred orcs headed straight towards us. Even if we run, we won't be able to get away. Unless...
Turning to Gandalf, I meet his eyes. He seems to get the message, and nods before worriedly turning to Thorin.
"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf demands, rushing up to Thorin in a very panicked manner.
"No one," Thorin responds, though I can tell that Gandalf doesn't believe him.
"Who did you tell!?" Gandalf yells, giving away our position completely.
"Gandalf!" I loudly growl, catching everyone's attention, and effectively silencing the stubborn wizard.
"It won't matter who knows if none of us survive! We need to get moving. Radagast and I will distract the pack while Gandalf leads you all to safety," I say, not leaving any room to argue. Or so I thought.
"You're not leaving the group! There's no way you would survive an orc pack on your own!" I hear Thorin argue as I turn to Radagast, preparing myself to leave.
I glance over my shoulder, my hands gripping my hood as I ask, "Have you got a better plan then?"
Thorin's blue eyes stare into my violet ones as my words effectively shut him up. I have my answer then.
Pulling my dark, cherry colored hood over my head and turning to Radagast, I call back, "I'll meet up with you all soon enough."
Hopping onto Radagast's sleigh behind him, I pull out my bow, placing my swords back in their respective places, and readying my bow in my hand. Just as I hear Gandalf instructing the others to hurry and run, Radagast takes off.
"Come and get us! Haha!" Radagast yells, catching the attention of the small army of Orcs. The Orcs all start chasing after us, some on wargs, others not. Raising my bow as I stand behind Radagast, I ready an arrow to fire.
I quickly aim for the heart of one of the wargs nearest and mutter a short spell, effectively setting the tip on fire. Releasing my arrow into the sky, I mutter another spell, feeling a large amount of my energy quickly deplete. This spell causes the fiery arrow to multiply, until at least a hundred arrows are falling onto the army.
That spell is quite useful in battle, but I can only use it every once in a while, due to the amount of energy it takes. And once the first arrow is aimed, I have no control over the rest. It's a very risky spell to use when you have allies on the field. Luckily, my allies are all on their way to safety.
I hear the sounds of many Orcs crying out in pain, and a few of the many Wargs howl in anguish. Readying another arrow, aim it at an Orc rider who is getting a bit to close for my liking. My arrow quickly pierces it's heart, and with no rider to command the Warg, it turns away.
Many people believe that Wargs are born and bred to kill, but about 2/10ths of the pack really are only following orders. The ones that are just following orders, or Light Bloods, have always had a bit of a special place in my heart. Though, it's quite rare for any creature at all to make it's way into my heart. Very few creatures of any kind, including Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Wizards, Skin Changers, and Hobbits, have a place in my heart.
Though, I will admit that the Dwarves of the company have all made their way into the outer circle of my heart. Along with a few others of course. The outer circle of my heart means that I will protect them until they wish me not to. Meanwhile, the inner circle of my heart is only filled with six people. One dead, the other five very much alive and well. Gandalf, Radagast, and Bilbo are all in that inner circle, as I would trust them with my life if it came down to it. And I will protect the surviving few until my very last breath.
Lightly shaking myself back into reality, I look to see that the Dwarves are all headed towards the cave tunnel, Gandalf in the lead. The Orcs have noticed them by now, and I can see them all rushing eagerly to get to them.
Without a second thought, I jump off of Radagast's sleigh and run towards the group. The group is barely starting to jump down the hole to the tunnel, but I can tell if I don't hurry that one of them may be killed.
Putting my bow back on my back, I pull out my swords. I quickly rush into the mass of Orcs, slicing down any and all in my path with ease as I make my way towards the others. Just as I break through the hoard and out into the small opening, I see an Orc rider on a Warg getting ready to pounce on Kili and Thorin.
Springing into action, I swiftly run up to the two. I roughly push them towards the cave as I aim my right sword upwards, towards the falling Warg's heart. The Warg's large body falls onto the sword as it lets out a pained yelp, and I quickly pull my sword back out before it can land on me, rolling to the side and standing in one, quick movement.
Lifting my left sword, I quickly slice it at the rider, chopping off it's head and looking to the others. Kili has just slid down, but Thorin is staring at me in a shocked manner. Rushing up to him, I yell, "What are you waiting for?! Another Orc to attack?"
This seems to shake him from his trance, and he quickly slides down the tunnel. I quickly follow behind him. Just as I hit the ground, I notice an Orc body above me. I move away from it quickly before looking to the others.
The orc's blood covered hand grabs my ankle as he stares up at me, hissing loudly, "You can't keep running forever. Azog knows where you are now, and it won't be long L-" I quickly slice the Orc's neck with my sword, knowing everyone's eyes are on me in wonder and slight amazement from before. Placing my sword back into it's sheath, I turn to the others, kicking the Orc's hand off of my ankle.
Thorin walks over to the body, before pulling out the arrow lodged in it's chest.
"Elves," He growls in disgust.
"I cannot see where the pathways leads. Do we follow it, or no?" Dwalin asks, turning to us all. He gives me one of his short, signature glares of distrust, clearly telling me he won't listen if I answer, so I stay silent.
Dwalin has a thing for not trusting people, which I can completely understand. But, we've come to a sort of silent agreement that if we are to travel together, we will not get in each others way. It's not friendship, nor enemies, but it's a way of handling each other I guess.
"Follow it, of course!" Bofur exclaims, making his way to the tunnel and starting down it, his hat lightly bouncing as he walks.
The group tiredly follows, not in the mood to care really. Though, they're all a bit shaken up. Especially Bilbo.
I feel quite bad for him, especially since I know how this really isn't his scene. Not that it's really anyone's scene. But luckily, during our encounter with the Orcs, he wasn't hurt or killed.
The group makes their way into a clearing full of light, and I can feel all of their disgust at what they find.
"The Valley of Imraldis. In the Common Tongue, it's known by a another name," Gandalf introduces the city, stepping forward a bit.
"Rivendell," Bilbo quietly says, in complete awe. I remember Bilbo telling me stories of how he always wanted to come here as a child, and how he'd heard of this wondrous place in many stories. From what I remember, Bilbo has always been quite fascinated by Elves, and always loved to touch my pointed ears. Though, so do many of the Hobbit children.
"Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea," Gandalf continues with a small, cheeky smile.
Keeping a straight face, I walk up to the front of the group.
Gazing upon the great golden city, I almost feel myself smile. But, I continue to keep my emotions hidden. It's been so many years since I was last here, and I almost get lost in the moment.
Almost.
The others argue behind me again until Gandalf makes a decision.
"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 Ambrosia."
I turn around to face the others, my hood still up as they fall silent. Taking that as my cue to join them on our decent, we start down towards the city.
As the exhausted group makes their way into Rivendell, I can hear Thorin grumbling constant complaints and insults. Surely, he'll soon realize that he is placing all of his hatred onto the wrong Elves. But even when he does, I doubt he'll admit it.
I can't say I blame him for hating the Elves that betrayed him though. Even I hate them. But that's for quite.... different reasons.
The moment we step foot into the castle, Gandalf steps up to speak with the Elf walking down the grand stairs.
I don't recognize this Elf. But then again, it has been quite a while since I was last here.
They speak in hushed voices for a moment, and I can't help but feel a bit nervous about what is going to happen during our stay. Glancing over to the others, I notice that Thorin is standing oddly close to me, on my left. It hasn't even been a day of our truce, yet it seems he is warming up to me.
[Not For Long} A voice in the back of my mind tells me, causing me to frown a bit.
The voice isn't wrong, but I hate the sound of that voice. No, I'm not talking about the way that it words things, I'm talking about the voice.
The voice is like mine, but darker (Not deeper. Eviler.) and smoother. It's laced with venom and hatred. The voice doesn't speak very often though, because of my tight lock on it. And for that, I'm quite glad.
Suddenly, the sound of many stomping horses snaps me out of my mind's hold. Thorin grabs my arm and pushes me behind him, into a protective circle with Bilbo. Though I feel a bit hurt by his lack of trust in my abilities, I let it slide as I watch as the gorgeous and elegant white steeds start to circle us.
The moment I see Lord Elrond, come into view, I throw off my hood. All of the horses stop mid step, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me, including Lord Elrond's.
His eyes are wide, and I know he recognizes me. He has no reason not to. Though, it has been nearly forty years.
My eyes flash over to Thorin's as I move to walk past him. His blue eyes are worried, but his face seems relatively calm. Can't let up his mask in front of the others, of course. But, he does grip my upper arm lightly, as if asking me if I know what I'm doing. I gently move my hand up and push away his, my eyes full of reassurance.
Looking back over to Elrond, I finally step out of the group and take a step towards him.
Calmly I speak, "Adar, (Father)" My eyes soften a bit as I hold back a smile.
Elrond slowly pushes off of his horse and steps forward, as if in disbelief. His eyes are still wide, as he's looking me up and down slowly.
The tension in the room could be cut with a butter knife, but the next thing to do is programmed in our DNA.
Elrond and I both walk forwards again, slowly, until we're only a few feet away. Then, Elrond rushes forwards, not wanting to wait any longer, and quickly envelopes me in a tight hug.
I gladly accept the hug, longing in my heart. I've missed this feeling of being home.
"Ambrosia," He exclaims, though not very loudly (In English), as if in shock and relief.
"It's been far too long," He continues. I burry my face into his neck, muttering (In English), "Sorry for not coming back sooner."
Now, to get one thing straight, Elrond is not actually my father. However, he did raise me since I was nearly seven years old. Which was when my mother and I needed shelter from my real father. That vile, terrible creature.
Pulling away from the hug, I say, "My friends and I could use some food and supplies, if you don't mind, Adar."
He smiles, turning to the Elf to his right and saying (in Elvish), "Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests."
"What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?" Gloin demands angrily, causing the other Dwarves to get a bit unruly.
Gandalf sighs, exasperatedly answering "No, master Gloin, he's offering you food."
The Dwarves all huddle together, briefly discussing the situation quietly before turning back around.
"Lead the way," Gloin orders, nearly smiling at the thought of food.
~~~
Hello My Little Arkenstones! Sorry for not updating last week! My flight home got delayed, and I didn't have internet until yesterday.
There shouldn't be any more interruptions in my update schedule until the end August, when school starts up again. But, until then there will be no more interruptions!
Hope you're enjoying this story!
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