Adventure of a Lifetime: VOL 1

Part 1: Chapter 1

A/N: Italics in conversation is elvish or dwarvish, depending on who is speaking

"Willow, orcs have been spotted on our borders. Lord Elrond summons the patrol," Lindir rushes down the stairs, to the training yard. Willow is training, as usual. "Orcs? Inside our borders?" Willow exclaims, sprinting past Lindir towards her room. "Must you move so quickly?" Lindir sighs, trailing behind her. "You only move so slow because you insist on wearing that robe everywhere," Willow snickers, closing the door to her bedroom. Lindir scoffs, looking down at his purple elven robe. "It is a high honor to dress like this. I cannot see why you insist on trousers over dresses. You are a lady," Lindir grumbles. "I heard that!" Willow exclaims from inside the room. She bursts through the door, flying past Lindir once more. Her hair is plaited down her back, her armor and weapons secured. "They are waiting for you near the bridge," Lindir calls after her, but Willow is already out of earshot. "She never stops. Never," Lindir sighs, returning to his duties.

Willow sprints down the steps, two at a time, where Elrond and the rest of the hunting party is waiting. She greets her horse, Wilwaren, swiftly swinging on her back. "That was a new record, Willow," Elrond jokes, riding beside her. "I've had practice. Where are the orcs?" She replies. "They were spotted coming from the south, riding wargs," Elrond replies. "Wargs? We must hurry then," Willow exclaims. The party spurs their horses down the bridge, galloping towards the plains.

"There! Up ahead!" Elrond calls, the horns sounding. Willow draws her bow, firing at the orcs and wargs. Some begin to flee, the rest swiftly killed by the patrol. Willow jumps off her horse, examining an arrow in one of the orcs. "This is not an elf arrow," she whispers. Her fingers run up the shaft, brushing the feathers. "My Lord Elrond, this is a dwarf arrow!" She calls. "Dwarves? Are you sure?" Elrond asks. Willow scans the ground, searching for footprints. "Yes, look!" She exclaims, pointing to the ground. "Look how square and bulky this print is. No orc made that." She follows the trail, multiple sets of dwarf footprints lead to the same place. The secret entrance. "They took the Hidden Pass. Looks like possibly twelve, thirteen dwarves. These footprints, over here. I have never seen these before," Willow ponders, pointing at a strange set of tracks. "Someone who knows these lands is leading them here," Elrond replies. "Come, on your horse. Let us go greet our unexpected guests."

Lord Elrond leads the patrol in their return to Rivendell. The company of dwarves have already arrived, meeting with Lindir in the courtyard. The horns from the patrol sound as they ride over the bridge. The dwarves huddle together as the patrol encircled the group. "Gandalf," Lord Elrond smiles, riding forward. Willow stays behind, waiting for the proper time. "Lord Elrond. My friend, where have you been?" Gandalf greets him. "We've been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the south. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass," Elrond replies, getting off his horse to embrace Gandalf. "Strange for orcs to come to close to our borders. Something or someone has drawn them near," Elrond states. "Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf says sheepishly, a black haired dwarf stepping forward. "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," Elrond smiles. Willow gasps. Thrain was son of Thror, the former king of Erebor. "I do not believe we have met," Thorin replies warily. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain," Elrond says. "Indeed? He made no mention of you," Thorin says disrespectfully. "I offer you food, a place at my tables for dinner," Elron says specifically in elvish. I chuckle, these dwarves do not know elvish. "What does he say? Does he offer us insult!" A gray-haired dwarf with a hearing trumpet growls. "No, master dwarf. He offers you food," Willow replies in dwarvish, dismounting her horse and walking forth. The dwarves look appalled. "How do you know our language?" Thorin asks. "You will know in due time. Will you accept his offer?" Willow replies. The dwarves turn to deliberate to each other, and Willow turns to Gandalf. "Mithrandir," she smiles, throwing her arms around her neck. "Willow, my dear. It is good to see you," Gandalf laughs, embracing the young woman. They turn back to the dwarves, the gray haired one in front. "We accept," he says.

Willow dresses, leaving her hair flowing down her back, before joining Lord Elrond and the dwarves for dinner. "You look absolutely astonishing, Willow," Gandalf says. There are two dwarves and another little creature joining them at the table. "Willow, you have met Thorin. Allow me to introduce Balin," Gandalf gestures to a white-bearded dwarf, "and Bilbo, our hobbit," he gestures to the curly-haired little one. "It is a pleasure. I cannot say that I have met a hobbit before. You hail from the Shire, yes?" Willow replies smoothly, taking a seat next to Gandalf. "Ehm, yes, my lady," Bilbo replies sheepishly. "You never explained how you can speak our language," Thorin says, his voice deep and gruff. "Thorin, I do not think we should discuss this now," Gandalf says, but Willow raises his hand. "Mithrandir, I am grown. I can explain myself," Willow replies. She turns to Thorin. "I am half dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield. My father was a dwarf, my mother an elf. After they died, I was brought here. I made it a point to learn both my heritages, both my histories. That includes language," she says. "So that is why you are smaller than most elves?" Bilbo pipes up. "Yes, master hobbit. It is my dwarfish blood that keeps my stature smaller than most," Willow smiles. Thorin says nothing, simply nodding in her direction. She glances over at the other table, filled with the rest of the dwarves. A pair of young dwarves, one with blond and the other with black hair, looking over at her. The blond one quickly lowers his head, staring at his plate. The dwarves begin to grow rowdy, finally exploding into a loud, upbeat song. Willow finds herself laughing, enjoying the fiddles and clapping even more than she enjoyed the simple sounds of harps and flutes. Elrond looks appalled, but Willow claps when the song is finished, unable to contain her laughter and joy. The blond dwarf sneaks a glance her way, catching her eye briefly before looking away again.

Dinner Dress:

Rotating Hairstyles: