Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 23 Leaving Rivendell

I was sitting in my offered room. I was packing my bag, and the dresses that had been lent to me lay flat on the bed – which I had made up moments before –. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible; I had to be ready at a moment's notice. I dressed in my own clothes, a pair of black trousers with my long-sleeved maroon shirt and olive colored canvas jacket. I buttoned the front of my jacket and tied up my boots tightly.

I was stressed – more so than I had been in a long time – and my head was swimming. I wanted to help the company, but I couldn't stay here. I closed my eyes; trying to breathe.

"Valerie." I looked up at the sound of Gandalf's voice and I turned to look towards the door. No one was there. My brow furrowed, and I turned, looking around the room. No one was here, yet I could have sworn I had heard Gandalf speak.

"Gandalf?" I whispered. I looked out at the small balcony and inside the bathroom.

"Valerie. You need to warn Thorin. You all need to leave Rivendell, now." Gandalf's voice echoed in my head. Telepathy, of course. I was momentarily caught off guard, but I nodded slowly.

"Where are you? Will you meet us somewhere?" I asked internally through thought, tracing the connection to Gandalf.

"I'll join you in the mountains, but you must hurry. The elves are intent on stopping the company. Elrond and the council are determined to let that dragon stay there." Gandalf informed me.

"Unlikely." I added. "I feel that you are right about this... ridding Erebor of the dragon." I clarified and felt a surge of pride.

The pathological window Gandalf had opened worked in strange ways. If the connection were strong enough, feelings and thoughts could be conveyed through the link.

Gandalf – with all his strength and power – could open the most magnificent telepathic gateways I'd ever experienced. I was only a young witch, with the experience levels of an amateur. My windows lasted long enough for me to blurt out whatever message I had planned, but Gandalf could subconsciously hold a window throughout an entire two-sided conversation.

"I need you to warn Thorin. Elrond is sending Lindir to escort the dwarves to their rooms. Do all you can to get the company out of Rivendell." Gandalf informed me urgently. I nodded, looking over at my bag – which was packed and ready.

"I wish you safe passage, Gandalf." I whispered internally. I felt something then. It seemed as though Gandalf felt fondness towards me. The connection shattered with an almost imperceptible touch of coolness that swirled around my burning head.

I grabbed my bag, throwing it over my shoulder. I didn't have time to clip my swords onto my belt. It would have to be done later, after the company was secure. I briskly walked towards my door, pushing it open with both my hands. With every step, my body shook with anxiety. If I were any faster, I'd be running. My bag bounced on my back, and my swords were in my hands. My white hair bounced around my shoulders and caught on the buttons that kept my bag's contents from spilling out over the floor.

My footsteps echoed – padding sounds resonating within the hallowed halls – as every step I took carried me towards a possible fight, and or imprisonment here in this valley. Gandalf never said that I'd have to take drastic measures, but it was surely implied through his thought. I needed to get to Thorin and the company. I felt as though the hall was fluctuating in length, growing longer as I neared the end.

It seemed an eternity before I exited the hall and turned into the moonlit courtyard. My eyes were focused on the southern wing of the palace, across the grassy courtyard. If I wanted to be successful in my conquest. I had to get there first. I set off, my legs pumping as I built up a run. I was speeding across the courtyard, my eyes locked on the firelit balcony. I could see the shadows of the dwarves moving about inside, and as I turned up the staircase, I could hear their voices.