As night fell and the sun retreated behind the hills, Gandalf, Elrond, Thorin, Balin, and I were stood in one of the halls in Rivendell. Gandalf had ushered us here to seek council from Lord Elrond. As usual Thorin was in no mood to share his plans with the elves. I on the other hand, thought the elves were a delightful people. They were graceful, kind and breathtakingly enchanting. It was hard not to be charmed by them.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Thorin's callous words.

"Our business is no concern of elves." He spat rudely sending a similar glare to when we met our other elven companion. We still didn't know her name and it was unlikely that we would learn it anytime soon seeing as she was bedridden and probably in agony.

I shivered at the thought. I had overheard one of the healers muttering something along the lines of "barbed arrow". I swallowed a lump in my throat and dismissed the thought immediately. My worrying would not help her recover in any way.

Elrond was now holding the map and Thorin and Balin looked like they had been antagonised. It seems that I had missed part of the conversation whilst deep in thought. Still unable to understand what I had missed, the conversation moved on.

Elrond looked over the map and his eyes flashed with recognition and swiftly moved to concern as he spoke "Erebor. What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin opened his mouth but Gandalf quickly interrupted 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 didn't seem fully convinced but he ignored his suspicions and strode away deep in thought, looking at the map. As the moonlight hit the map, Elrond realized something and muttered to himself "Cirth Ithil."

Gandalf quickly translated for us "Moon runes. Of course," he then turned to see the skeptical faces of Thorin and Balin and he added "An easy thing to miss."

"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 informed us.

"Can you read them?" Thorin asked with hope in his eyes.

Instead of answering us, Elrond lead us to another area. We walked through a magnificent archway and were surrounded with the melody of rushing water. We were on the side of a cliff and in the presence of the moonlight reflecting off of the beautiful waterfalls. I don't think I could have imagined something as beautiful as what was before me. The moon was covered by the clouds but my eyes were drawn the the large crystalline table that Elrond had approached.

He continued to examine the map as he spoke."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;"He turned to look at Thorin, "The same moon shines upon us tonight."

We looked up to see the clouds part from the moon and the once concealed rays of the moon traveled to meet the table which Elrond laid the map upon. The map seemed to glow when it came into contact with the moonlight. I peered over Thorin's shoulder to get a better look and what I saw mesmerised me.

A form of ancient runes seeped into existence on the map, shining the same silver as the moon.

"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." Elrond translated offering some insight. But I still didn't understand.

"Durin's Day?" I questioned curiously.

Gandalf turned to me to explain "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."

He spoke in a calm, reassured tone but Thorin clearly didn't feel the same way. "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us." He rambled nervously but Balin felt more secure than the other dwarf.

"We still have time." he stated to Thorin.

I still didn't understand what was happening. Everything seemed to speed up and I felt like I had been left behind. "Time? For what?" I asked nervously.

"To find the entrance. We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened." Balin answered, trying not to let the hope he felt crawl into his words.

He failed to conceal it and Elrond's previously ignored suspicions grew even stronger as he spoke out in realisation. "So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain."

Thorin suddenly regained his defenses and sharply asked "What of it?"

"There are some who would not deem it wise." Elrond warned with so much authority that I felt like I would be crippled under it.

Thorin snatched the map and stored it away in his coat again.

"Who do you mean?" Gandalf asked with concern underlying his words.

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth." And with that, Lord Elrond walked away. I hoped it was to attend to our elven friend once again and I felt that same lump rise in my throat. She was truly enchanting. I hoped she wouldn't have to suffer for much longer.

***

I was burning. It was all I could think about.

Burning.

Burning.

My screams were soundless and my movements and thrashings were nothing but phantom limbs tricking me. The image of the eye kept haunting me. It would flash and dart around my head and it would stab me in my lungs. I felt like I was breathing in fire. It poured into my lungs and escaped a hole in my left side and leaked into my blood. It trickled through my body and pulsed at my heart. It flooded my mind and I felt like my head was going to split open from the pressure. My heart stung with exhaustion and threatened to rip itself apart. If I had to deal with any more pain I thought I might have ended up begging for the sweet release of death. My body was being ripped apart like someone was dissecting my barely ticking body without any form of anesthetic.

Days. Weeks. Months. Years. I couldn't tell how long I had endured this suffering or how long I still had. All I knew was pain. It clouded my awareness of my surroundings but sometimes I would hear familiar voices. They felt like ice to the raging fire within me and I began craving their words like I was addicted to a drug. They gave me hope; made the pain slightly more bearable.I heard the hobbit's voice often. He had told me many things. I had learnt about his life and his name. Bilbo Baggins of Bag end. I could picture the rolling hills of the shire and I clung to them like they were my will to live. He told me that he missed his home. He used to speak more and more of it each time he visited me.

Sometimes I heard the voice of Elrond. It was full of unyielding authority. I heard him tell one of the healers that there was a barbed arrow within me and that if it wasn't removed soon, my thrashings would drive it further into my lung and it would kill me.

So I was moving. I realised with dread that If I could move then I was probably able to scream too.

Soon the voices of visitors stopped altogether and I began to sink further into the abyss of my unconscious mind but before it enveloped me entirely, I heard the voice of someone I didn't expect.

Someone who had never directly spoken to me.

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