𝙎𝘼𝙋𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎, the hobbit

04

Time after time, Saphira soared majestically towards the place where her companions would be. She inhaled the scent of fallen orcs, a mixture of decaying flesh and blood, before she descended gracefully toward the golden ground. As she drew near, she spotted a group of orcs who screamed in terror and astonishment at the sight of the magnificent dragon appearing above them.

Without hesitation, Saphira unleashed a torrent of flames onto the orcs, igniting the grass beneath them in a blaze of fury. "What do you think you're doing?" Thorin shouted, jumping back as an angry flame crackled dangerously close to him. "You'll kill us all!"

Saphira rolled her eyes and sighed, her patience wearing thin. She pulled her majestic head back and turned to face the dwarves, her sapphire cold eyes scanning the chaos. "Where is Gandalf?" she asked, her tone clipped and urgent.

Fili hesitated before responding, his voice coming in a breathless rush. "We don't know!"

Saphira sighed, snorting as she sniffed the air again, but there was still no trace of the wizard's distinct scent. Just as she began to grow anxious, a familiar voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "This way, fools!" Gandalf's old face materialized from the shadows.

With a renewed sense of urgency, the dwarves wasted no time, leaping into the dark hole that Gandalf had uncovered. Saphira glanced around, confirming that the field was eerily quiet, save for the three orcs who had turned tail and fled in terror of the dragon.

Not wanting to be left behind, she unfurled her massive wings and dove into the hole after Thorin and the rest of the company, her heart pounding. As darkness enveloped her, she trusted that Gandalf would lead them to safety.

As Saphira gracefully landed in her human form, the dwarves stared in awe. One of the younger members of the company, a wide-eyed device named Jun, gasped and blinked in astonishment. Saphira tilted her head, curiosity piqued.

"What?" she asked with a smirk. "Never seen a lady before?"

Jun stammered, clearly flustered. "Well, I mean... you're just... well, you're more beautiful than most!" protested Bofur, his cheeks flushing with color as he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

Saphira rolled her eyes, shaking her head in feigned exasperation. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Bofur." She crossed her arms and regarded the group with a playful smile. "We have more pressing matters at hand than admiring my appearance. Where is Gandalf going?"

The dwarves exchanged glances, their initial surprise giving way to a sense of urgency as they remembered the peril they were still in. "He went that way," said Dori, pointing down a dimly lit tunnel. "We need to follow him before we end up back in trouble!"

After a while, they found Gandalf and Bilbo standing gazing out over a beautiful valley filled with waterfalls and charming, peaceful houses. Saphira's gaze swept over the landscape as she asked curiously, "Is this Rivendell?"

Gandalf smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, it is, you know. The last homey house west before the sea came home."

Bilbo nodded enthusiastically. "It truly is a place of legends, Saphira. You'll love the tranquility here. Even the most famous adventures have a pause, and this is ours. Come, let us explore!"

Saphira felt a wave of relief at having found a safe haven, and she looked forward to discovering this magical valley that Gandalf called home.

They walked down a path lined with moss and trees, where small critters scurried here and there, adding life to the serene surroundings. As they continued, they crossed a small bridge that spanned over a gently rushing river, its waters sparkling in the sunlight.

At the far end of the bridge, two guards stood sentry in shining silver armor, their expressions calm yet vigilant. As they approached, a graceful elf descended the steps, his demeanor warm and welcoming. He smiled at Gandalf, his eyes twinkling with familiarity.

"Ah, Mithrandir! How nice of you to come," the elf said, his voice melodic and soothing.

Gandalf returned the smile, the air between them filled with an unspoken bond. "It is good to see you, Elrond. I bring friends and tidings, and I'm sure they would love to bask in the beauty of Rivendell just as much as I have."

Saphira stepped forward, her curiosity piqued. She could feel the magic of the place surrounding them, and she wondered what stories awaited in this mystical sanctuary.

Elrond smiled warmly at the dwarves before turning his gaze to Saphira, who was mesmerized by the breathtaking landscape. The lush greenery, the cascading waterfalls, and the distant echoes of laughter filled her heart with a sense of peace.

"Who may you be, my lady?" Elrond asked, his tone gentle and curious. "I can't say I've seen you around Middle-earth much."

Saphira turned her gaze to Elrond, taking in his noble demeanor and the grace that seemed to radiate from him. "I am Saphira," she replied, her voice clear and melodic, a reflection of the bond she shared with her dragon rider. "I am a dragon, and I soar through the skies with my companion, Eragon. We seek knowledge and friendship in these lands, and I am honored to stand in the presence of such a wise elf as yourself."

Elrond raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the idea of a dragon in Middle-earth, a creature of legend and majesty. "A dragon, you say? It is rare indeed to see one among us. Your presence is a gift, and your journey brings with it stories untold."

The dwarf at Saphira's side, grumbling but also intrigued, whispered to Bilbo, "A dragon, eh? This should be worth a tale or two around the fire."

"Indeed," Bilbo replied, his eyes wide with excitement, "but let's not forget, she might be a friend rather than a foe!"

Elrond nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the bond between Saphira and Eragon. "You are welcome in Rivendell, Saphira. Here, all allies are cherished, and all stories are honored." He gestured for them to enter his home, setting the scene for a gathering that would weave together both new tales and ancient wisdom.

Elrond's smile deepened, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Why don't we take you to a special room? You might as well all have the hospitality of Imladris," he suggested, gesturing for them to follow him.

As they walked through the enchanting halls of Rivendell, the air was imbued with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers and the faint sounds of music drifting through the corridors. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings that told stories of ages past, and the soft glow of lanterns created a warm, inviting atmosphere.

Elrond led them to a grand chamber, elegantly furnished and bathed in the soft light of a large window overlooking the river and valley below. The space was filled with plush cushions and tables laden with fruits, pastries, and fragrant elven wine. "This room is known for gathering friends and allies," Elrond said. "Here, we can share stories and revel in the warmth of fellowship."

Gandalf took a seat, his presence calming as he surveyed the surroundings. He gestured for the others to join him. Saphira settled gracefully near the window, her eyes reflecting the beauty of the landscape outside, while the dwarves shuffled in, glancing around in wide-eyed wonder at the elegance of their surroundings.

Elrond poured drinks, the crystalline goblets catching the light. "To new friendships and the journeys that unite us," he toasted, raising his glass.

"To new friendships!" everyone echoed, their spirits lifted by the elf-lord's gracious hospitality. The ambiance was filled with laughter, chatter, and the joy of companionship, as tales began to unfold—of great battles, adventures, and the mysteries of dragons.

In that moment, under the gentle embrace of Rivendell's walls, they felt a sense of belonging, as if history itself had woven their fates together at this very gathering.