The dwarves are sitting around tables in the Elven court, eating. However, they are not very appreciative of the Elves' vegetables. a young lady sits beside them, chuckling as the dwarfs perk around in the elves' food. "Lady y/n, can I offer you some snacks?" An elven maid offers to the lady, who nods and takes the bowl from her.

"Try it. Just a mouthful," Dori says to his younger brother, who picks up a leaf bud lays it down again. "I don't like green food," Ori complains; y/n chuckles softly but regains herself soon. Dwalin looks through a bowl of greens. "Where's the meat?" He complains. "Elves have a more green diet than you dwarves," Y/n says suddenly, making the dwarves turn their heads to her. Oin holds up a vegetable with his knife and looks at it in disgust.

"Have they got any chips?" Ori says hopefully. An Elf maiden plays the harp in the background. Elrond and Gandalf walk through the halls of Rivendell. Y/n's eyes land on the to comers and immediately are gone in a cloud of smoke. None has noticed that the young woman was gone, so they carried on.

"Kind of you to invite us. I'm not dressed for dinner." Gandalf says while smiling.
"Well, you never are." Elrond jokes back.
They both laugh, and they arrive at the courtyard where the dwarves are eating. An elf maiden plays the flute; Oin, not liking the sound, stuffs a napkin in his hearing trumpet and looks happy that he can no longer hear the music.

———

Still, at the feast, Elrond examines the swords Gandalf and Thorin found in the trolls' hoard. He looks at Orcrist first.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." Elrond says and hands Orcrist back to Thorin, who accepts it with a nod. Elrond then examines Glamdring. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, a sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age..." he says.

Elrond's voice fades on the soundtrack as Bilbo pulls out his sword and looks at it.  "I wouldn't bother, laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war." Balin says, and Bilbo looks up, confused.  "What are you saying? My sword hasn't seen battle?" Bilbo then says. "I'm not sure it is a sword; more of a letter opener," Balin says, and suddenly, a growl is heard. They all stop what they are doing and look around after the sound.

Then a voice, soft as silk, chimes in. "That is a short sword, master Balin. Perfect for a hobbit. Next time, watch what you're saying when I'm around." The voice is gone as fast as it came, and the group continues with their conversation, but all are a little confused by the sudden voice. "How did you come by these?" Elrond asks, looking at Gandalf. "We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road shortly before orcs ambushed us," Gandalf says.

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond says. No one answers; Thorin looks perturbed.

———

It is night. Gandalf, Elrond, Thorin, Balin, and Bilbo are standing in a hall in Rivendell. "Our business is no concern of elves." Thorin hiss. "For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map," Gandalf says in irritation. "It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets." Thorin fires back. "Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond." Gandalf reasons.

Thorin thinks quietly for a few seconds, with everyone looking at him. He begins to hand the map to Elrond, and Balin tries to stop him. "Thorin, no!" Balin says, but Thorin ignores him and hands Elrond the map. Elrond looks at it.

"Erebor. What is your interest in this map?" Elrond says. Thorin is about to speak, but Gandalf interrupts him. "It's mainly academic.
As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" Elrond walks a little bit away, looking at the map. As the moonlight hits the map, Elrond realizes something.

"Cirth Ithil." He says. "Moon runes. Of course. An easy thing to miss." Gandalf ads. "Well, in this case, that is true; moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written," Elrond says. "Can you read them?" Thorin asks. Elrond leads them all to an open area outside, on the side of a cliff, with waterfalls all around. The moon is behind some clouds. They walk toward a sizeable crystalline table.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight." Elrond states with a small smile. As they look up, the clouds covering the moon float away, and rays of moonlight hit the crystalline table, causing light to flow through the map laid on the table. Ancient runes become visible on the map, and Elrond translates them out loud.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole." Bilbo then asks. "Durin's Day?". "It is the start of the dwarves' new year when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together." Gandalf answers. Suddenly, a white eagle lands on the crystalline table, tilting its head as its sharp blue eyes scan the map.

The group watches as the eagle looks upon them with her blue eyes. They speak that she knows something. Elrond reaches a hand out to her, and the eagle jumps on his arm, careful not to hurt him with her claws. "The white wizard is here," the eagle said and flys away. The group stands there bewildered but also confused. Elrond snaps out of his trance, and they continue to understand the map.

"So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain," Elrond says. "What of it?" Thorin asks. "There are some who would not deem it wise," Elrond says. Thorin takes back the map gruffly. "Who do you mean?" Gandalf asks as he looks at the elf lord. "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth." As Elrond walks away, Gandalf turns slowly, thinking deeply.

———

It is late at night. Wargs howl. Yazneg and his Warg Scouts and Wargs step into the ruin on Weathertop, where many other Wargs and Orcs are gathered. A large, white Warg growls at him. Behind the White, Warg is a tall, pale Orc, facing away. It is Azog. "Khozdayin... Dorguz... zuranimid." [subtitle: The Dwarves, Master... we lost them. "Shugi golgai gelnakhanishim--" subtitle: Ambushed by Elvish filth, we were--" the orcs says but gets interrupted by azog.

"Sha nargiz ob-hakhtil..." [subtitle: I don't want excuses...] "Nargiz khobdi Rani Khozdil!" [subtitle: I like the head of the Dwarf King!] Azog turns around and approaches Yazneg. His left arm, which Thorin Oakenshield cut off long ago during the battle of Azanulbizar, has been replaced with a metal arm and claw.

"Murganish dum...Turim hag shad." [subtitle: We were outnumbered...there was nothing we could do.] "Zorzor go-kairaz obguraniz." [subtitle: I barely escaped with my life.] the orc continues, scared. "Ki go-kairag baganig." [subtitle: Far better you had paid with it.] Azog strokes Yazneg's head with his right hand, then grabs and lifts Yazneg by the throat with his metal left hand. With a roar, Azog throws him against the pillars to the side. Wargs attack Yazneg, killing him and eating him. Yazneg's fellow Rider quakes in fear at sight; however, the White Warg and Azog are unfazed.

"Khozd-shrakhun gud sha kilyash-zag." [subtitle: The Dwarf-scum will show themselves soon enough.] "Zidgar obod tung nash ru khobdud!" [subtitle: Send out word, there is a price on their heads!] the rests of the Orcs leap on their Wargs; they all run off from Weathertop to do Azog's will.

———

Back in Rivendell, the Dwarves are having a late-night party in their quarters. They roast sausages over a fire made by burning the Elvish furniture. Bofur, seeing a heavy Bombur sitting on a bench and eating a large bowl of food, looks at his sausage thoughtfully. "Bombur!" s Bombur looks up; Bofur throws him the link. Bombur catches it; the weight of the sausage is too much for the bench, and the bench breaks; Bombur, shrieking, falls to the floor, along with all his food. The dwarves laugh uproariously.

Gandalf and Elrond walk up a flight of stairs and into a pavilion. "With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he's answerable to anyone. Nor for that matter am I." Gandalf says. "It is not me you must answer to," Elrond says.

Gandalf looks and sees a tall, beautiful female Elf standing framed against the moonlight. She slowly turns around. It is Galadriel. She had the white eagle from before on her shoulders.

"Lady Galadriel," Gandalf says and bows his head. "Mithrandir. It has been a long time." Galadriel says and reaches out her arm, and the white eagle jumps over to her hands, nibbles at a bit of meat which Galadriel holds there. Galadriel opens her hand, allowing the eagle to eat the meat. The white eagle takes it in her beak and flies away from lady Galadriel and lands on the white table.

"Nae nin gwistant infanneth, mal ú-eichia i Chíril Lorien." [subtitle: 'Age may have changed me, but not so the Lady of Lorien." Gandalf says. Galadriel smiles. "I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you," Gandalf says, looking confused. A voice sounds out of the darkness.

"He didn't. I did." The white eagle looks up from her meat, her face in anger, but she restrains herself and flies back to Galadriel, landing protection on her shoulders. Gandalf turns and sees Saruman the White; he bows to him.

"Saruman," Gandalf says. "You've been busy of late, my friend," Saurman says, the same look he always has looked at Gandalf. Lesser worth. The white eagle screams in a high, angry tone. She then flaps with her wings, angry, lifting herself dorm Galadriel's shoulder. Galadriel raises her hand and pats the angry eagle while whispering soothing words in elvish.

The white eagle calms down and lands at Elrond's shoulders, still glaring daggers into Saurman.

—————-

The White Council, composed of Saruman, Elrond, Galadriel, and Gandalf, are in the pavilion. Gandalf and Saruman sit at a table; Elrond and Galadriel stand or walkabout. Dawn is slowly breaking.

"Tell me, Gandalf, did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?" Saruman says, a blaming tone (sorry, I don't exactly know what it is called when you blame someone). "Unnoticed? No, I'm simply doing what I feel to be right." Gandalf says as a matter of fact. "The dragon has long been on your mind," Galadriel states, making the white eagle look at her. "This is true, my lady. Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, a dragon could be used to terrible effect." Gandalf says, noticing the confused look on the eagle's face.

"What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy, is defeated. Sauron is defeated. He can never regain his full strength." Saurman says. The eagle then spoke, her soft voice laced with venom at the elder. "You don't know anything, wizard. You are oblivious to the work of the dark lord. His ring is woken up." The eagle then flies down from Galadriel's shoulder and land on the floor. A light surrounds them, and after a few minutes, the light is gone, and now stands a young and tall woman clad in a blue cloak with golden lines embedded into the fabric.

Her sharp blue eyes resemble the ones of the wire eagle, having the same ínstense and power in them. "I feel his power growing; trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked them on the road." The young lady stop and glares at Saurman, who stays quiet. "Hardly a prelude to war." Elrond then chimes in, earning a light glare from the woman. "Always, you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists." Saurman, who now has gotten the course to talk, says to Gandalf

"Let him speak," Galadriel says, and y/n walks over to her; the light lights again, but this time, a white wolf stands in the woman's place. The white wolf sits down beside the lady of the morning, and Galadriel pats its head. The council counties their talk without any interruptions from the young lady. Saruman's voice fades away as Galadriel focuses on Gandalf and speaks to him in his mind. "You carry something. It came to you from Radagast. He found it in Dol Guldur." She says. "Yes." Gandalf answers.

"Show me," Galadriel says. Gandalf lifts Radagast's package, which he had in his lap, and places it on the table. It lets out a dull thud. "...or I'd think I was talking to myself...." Saurman says. "What is that?" Elrond says, and the white wolf stands up and walks over to the table. Her head is above the table so that she can see the thing perfectly. "A relic of Mordor." She voices. Elrond, who was reaching out to unwrap the package, draws his hand back. He then reaches for it again and opens it, revealing the sword Radagast took from the spirit in Dol Guldur. The White Council members look upon it in shock.

"A Morgul blade," Elrond says, shocked. "Made for the Witch-king of Angmar and buried with him. When Angmar fell, men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High-Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock, they buried them, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light." Galadriel says. Y/n, who is still in wolf form, bares her teeth and her ears flatter back. Galadriel steps up to her and places a hand on top of her head, calming her down. Y/n calms down, but her lip is still showing a few of her teeth, and she's growling low.

"This is not possible. A powerful spell lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened." Elrond states in worry. "What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar's grave?" Saurman says, obviously trying to say it's just a toy. "I have none," Gandalf says, his voice laced with minor discontent.  "Because there is none. Let us examine what we know. A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found. And a human sorcerer, who calls himself the Necromancer, has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It's not so very much, after all. The question of this dwarvish company, however, troubles me deeply. I'm not convinced, Gandalf; I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they'd come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment. I do not pretend to understand your reasons for raising their hopes...." Saurman says in anger.

Saruman's voice fades away as Galadriel again focuses on Gandalf. She speaks to him telepathically. "They are leaving." She says. "Yes," Gandalf says. "You knew," Galadriel says. "...I am afraid there is nothing else for it." Saurman voice comes again. Gandalf nods. Galadriel smiles slightly. A step is heard, and they all turn around; Lindir comes up and bows. "My Lord Elrond; the dwarves, they've gone." He says.

———

It is morning; the dwarves are hiking along the path away from Rivendell. "Be on your guard; we're about to step over the edge of the Wild. Balin, you know these paths; lead on." Thorin says. "Aye," Balin says and walks to the front. Bilbo turns around and looks back at Rivendell longingly.
"Master Baggins, I suggest you keep up," Thorin says.
The dwarves and Bilbo continue on their journey.

——————————

Song: counting stars by OneRepublic.

A/n: so here's end the first chap:) pretty good, huh? Well, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I wanted to write it. That's all:)

-Saph