'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*.'

It's evening, and the dwarves are sitting aorund a table with plates of green food muck to their dislike. Throin Gandalf and Bilbo, along with Balin and y/n, sit at a table with Elrond. The elven lord is examining the swords that the company has brought with them. He holds Thorin's "This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He says, handing it back to its owner.

The brown-haired elf then studies Gandalf's, whose sword is a bit bigger. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, the sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age..." y/n's focus slips from the hospital elf and turns to Bilbo, who she feels has moved. In his hands is  Sting. Balin seems to have noticed this as well. "I wouldn't bother, laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."

This made both Bilbo and y/n frown. All she knew was Bilbo's sword had seen as much wear as the other two, so why wouldn't this get acknowledged like its brethren? A small huff of a snarl escaped the lady's mouth, but it was only loud enough for Balin and Bilbo to hear, "master dwarf, I suggest you find out about this "letter opener" before you speak such nonsense. Master Baggins's sword may have seen just as many battles as its brethren." Balin sighed and raised one hand in surrender.

Y/n gave him a pleased smirk and nudged Bilbo silently. Let's say that Elrond looked at this sword too and declared that it was remarkable just hadn't gotten a name yet, and it was up to Bilbo to give it. Bilbo was proud, and y/n was happy that she had helped this little being with more self-confidence. He should be proud of who he is.

☯︎

It's longer than in o the evening. Thorin, Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, y/n, and Elrond are standing in a hall in Rivendell. Thorin is annoyed, and so are Gandalf and y/n. The shapeshifter is beside Bilbo, her eyes flashing dangerously, showing she's at the brim of snapping, "Our business is no concern of elves." Throin hissed to Gandalf, who rolled his eyes not so subtly. "For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map." The grey wizard snaps. Y/n sighs, knowing that if she butts In, it'll get either worse or better.

The dwarves seem to trust her but are it enough? "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's voice brings the shapeshifter from her thoughts and her (e/c) eyes to the leader of their company. Hopefully, he'll forget his pride even for a moment. She thinks.

As if Thorin reads her thoughts, he huffed an irritated breath but fishes for the map. I'm his cloak. Elrond raises a brow and lets his eyes fare over to y/n, who is intent on watching the dwarf. She is a silent fellow. Does she know about Erebor and why those dwarves are here? Elrond shakes his head subtly and takes the map that Thorin offered him.

The maple brown eyes scan the old and either y map with interest and recognize the place it's showing. Erebor. "Erebor. What is your interest in this map?" The elven lord says and sees the glance Gandalf and Throin share. The young lady takes a sharp breath, but before she or Throin can say anything, Gandalf speaks up, "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?"

Elrond looks at Gandalf curiously but nods and walks a few strides away. Y/n watches as the gente moonlight hits the map and sees Elrond's idea in his eyes. He understood the map now "Cirth Ithil." He muttered, and Gandalf hums, clearly knowing what that means. "Moon runes. Of course. An easy thing to miss." The grey wizard says, and y/n tilts her head. I've never heard about that. How come dwarves can write with the moon? Her question is half answered when Elrond says, "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."

"Can you read them?" Thorin says, making y/n jump. The dwarf king had been so silent she'd forgotten a moment about his presence. The blue-eyed king sends her a glance but quickly turns back to Elrond. The elf walks away, and Gandalf tells them to follow. Elrond leads the 5 to an open area outside, on the side of a cliff, with waterfalls all around. The moon is behind some clouds.

A sizeable crystalline table is in the middle, and Elrond walked to it, laying the map upon it. "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." The brown-haired elf says and smiles a little.

The moon soon makes its aprende through the clouds and shines upon the map. 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." Y/n's brow furrows. "Durin's Day?" Bilbo says, voicing her unspoken question.

"It is the start of the dwarves' new year when the last moon of autumn and the first winter sun appear in the sky together," Gandalf says to the two, looking a little melancholy.  "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us." Thorin says as his eyes widen. Y/n sighs and walks up to Balin and Throin, laying a hand gently on the king's shoulder "well, manage, Throin," she says, and Balin nods, "she's right. We still have time."

The lady sighs, taking her hand away from Throin and cats her eyes toward the moon. Give us hope, goddess of the moon.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*.'