-General-
A reddish glimmer danced over the forged scales, and a river of fire ran between their edges, as if living magma had been trapped within the metal. To the eyes of all present, that work radiated a hypnotic brilliance that filled the entire hall with awe.
Then Aldril rose from his seat, overcome by a sudden impulse; with quick steps, he approached the armor, reaching out his hand like one approaching a lost treasure. A vague sense of connection washed over him, radiating mostly from the helm, which had been re-forged from the ancient one of his father, Turin.
"It is beautiful," he murmured in a voice barely audible.
Thorin, who heard his words due to their proximity, smiled with just pride.
"Beautiful it is, in truth," he replied. "For many years the most skilled among the smiths worked on it, and I would not bring before you any work that did not heap honor upon my name or that of my people."
With a nod, another cart just as beautiful advanced to present itself before them. This time, robustness gave way to a more slender figure; the curves of the hips and the relief of the chest clearly revealed for whom it was intended.
"In accordance with our agreement, here is the second suit of armor," announced Thorin as he approached the cart. Then he unsheathed two cerulean daggers with a faint reddish hue; the material's gleam, upon touching the light, gave them an almost extravagant air. "And these two are the daggers made to your measure," he added, directing his gaze toward Tauriel.
Like her husband, the Elf reacted with a sudden impulse. In just a few movements, she stood before Thorin, and bowing slightly, she took both daggers. The instant her hands touched them, the blades seemed to recognize her, for a flickering shimmer ran across their surfaces.
"Beautiful and lethal," she murmured upon examining them closely. The greenish tone of her eyes was reflected in the blade. "Allow me to thank you and all those who put effort into such a difficult task, King Thorin."
"On the contrary, it should be we who thank you for granting us the trust to forge such wonders," said Thorin, before turning his gaze to Aldril, who was holding one of the daggers made especially for him. He had not forgotten his promise: all those who participated in the expedition would receive one. There was no need to ask about the others; the glint in the Dwarf's eyes said it all: When we are all gathered, they will be delivered as agreed.
The Dwarves' gift, imposing and magnificent, opened the ceremony with perfect harmony. From there, each guest presented their gifts with grandeur and eloquence. Some, like those of Galadriel and Elrond, were received with the admiration reserved for the finest works of art: a cloak woven with leaves of Lórien that would grant perpetual comfort to Aldril and Tauriel's garments, and a special wine brewed by Elrond, capable of warming the body and renewing the strength of whoever tasted it.
But the most curious—and without a doubt the one received with the greatest tenderness—was the gift from our dear Bilbo Baggins. With small steps and a nervous glance, the hobbit presented a tea set crafted entirely of fine, pure silver, so polished it reflected every glint of light that touched it. As he explained, somewhat blushing:
"To enjoy a good tea time, one needs utensils of the highest quality."
The comment provoked warm laughter and a wave of affection toward the little one from the Shire, who received a warm hug from Aldril and Tauriel.
"Well," Tauriel had said, "once we have children, I hope that as a good godfather, you will teach them the manners of tea time."
Her words left Bilbo completely stunned. But as soon as the phrase made sense in his mind, a radiant smile lit up his face; he nodded enthusiastically, almost vibrating with emotion. To be godfather to his best friend's future children… what an honor! He already imagined how he would entertain them by telling stories before a good fire.
Aldril, for his part, also froze for a few seconds. Then he let out a slight laugh. He had never stopped to think about having children; the idea had never touched his heart with true force. But now that Tauriel said it… it didn't sound bad, not at all.
Mind you, he told himself in silence: After the War of the Ring. He did not wish to bring children into the world while the shadow still stretched over Middle-earth.
The little hobbit bowed—very nervously, I must say—and, with the agility proper to a Halfling, turned to return to his table, almost skipping with joy. Gandalf, who would be the next to offer his gift, could do nothing but shake his head with a smile at his young friend's reaction.
With elegant steps, laden with the weight of countless years, the Grey Wizard approached Aldril and Tauriel. In his hands, he carried very ancient scrolls and books, which he offered to the couple with solemnity.
"The most powerful weapon is knowledge," he said. "Though, sometimes, a good sword also helps," he added later.
The comment provoked sincere laughter from the young couple.
The rest of the gifts consisted mostly of fine fabrics and some weapons, which would undoubtedly pass into Aldril's repertoire, though none would replace his two faithful companions: Anguirel and Anglachel. Still, perhaps he would test those new blades in his spare time.
Among the many gifts, a mare from Rohan was destined for Tauriel, along with a saddle for Aldril. Although the armor for his faithful companion made by Dwarves was on its way, it would be delivered a few days later; due to its weight and the rush to finish the Half-elf's armor, the equipment had been completely forgotten.
....
As time passed, the gift-giving event came to an end. After words of gratitude from Aldril and Tauriel for such a sincere gesture of goodwill, the celebrations resumed. It was said they could last a whole month, for that was how dedicated Elves were to merriment. The facade of solemnity and arrogance so often attributed to them cracked before the eyes of the visitors, whose eyes had undoubtedly been opened by these days.
However, amidst laughter and drink, there was a moment when the atmosphere changed.
Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf, Thorin, and others blessed by the Valar gathered at a secluded table. It was the first time in a long while that Elves—and a descendant of Durin—deliberated again alongside the chosen ones in the same circle.
"Southern Gondor is under our control," reported Augura. "Though I must say some Corsairs and Mûmakil were driven into the cursed lands of Mordor."
Belegor nodded, frowning.
"Much as it pains me to admit it, they slipped through my fingers like filthy cockroaches. And the worst part is that no one managed to identify how many Mûmakil were taken."
"Those stupid elephants are the least of our worries," added Augura with disdain. "We have a dragon slayer among us; I doubt those beasts pose a real challenge to him." Her gaze, sharp and predatory, slid toward Aldril. Oh, how she wished to have children by that man.
Aldril, of course, perceived those intentions. He arched an eyebrow ironically and cast a brief glance toward Tauriel, who remained impassive, her expression as icy as it was elegant.
"They won't be a problem for me... but what about the others?" replied the Half-elf, after looking away from his wife.
Raizan, a renowned strategist, nodded gravely.
"They may be a minor obstacle for Aldril, but not so for our men. If they attack by surprise, casualties on our side would be numerous."
"We must not become complacent," intervened Galadriel.
Her voice, as powerful as it was beautiful, imposed an immediate silence on the table; everyone turned their attention to her.
"If the blessings have already awakened in them, then knowledge of Sauron's ancient master has been revealed to them. And for that reason, I must warn you: even if we now have Sauron surrounded from the east to the south, do not doubt that he continues to cultivate his forces in the shadows. At any moment he will attack, as his master Morgoth did in ancient times."
She paused briefly, and an ancient sorrow was reflected in her gaze.
"Back then, my uncle and cousins trusted too much... and that hubris led to a devastating victory for the Dark Lord. Had it not been for my uncle's sacrifice, I doubt very much we would be gathered here today having this conversation."
A tense silence settled over those present. Galadriel was the most experienced of all, for she had been one of those who accompanied her uncle Fingolfin when he decided to leave Valinor alongside her other uncle, Fëanor.
"Yes, we must not become complacent," continued Gandalf. "Evil can move in the shadows; do not forget it. Watch your backs, for it is possible that those of weak mind have already submitted to Sauron, silently awaiting the moment of their master's call."
The wizard paused briefly before continuing.
"I have already warned Saruman to pay attention to any movement of the Dark Lord, though he remains engrossed in the investigation of those 'things' Aldril killed in Moria."
"I wouldn't trust Saruman," added Aldril.
His words caused the others to look at him with surprise, especially Gandalf, who furrowed his brow. But before he could ask why he said that, Aldril continued:
"Have you not noticed he behaves differently? Ever since we handed over those 'things' for his investigation, a bad premonition has clung to my chest."
"You mean..."
"Saruman may have fallen into darkness."
**
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