A large crowd had gathered in one of Rivendell's grand, high-ceilinged halls. The Oakenshield company had already taken their seats at the long wooden dining tables; as usual, they were making a cheerful racket, diving into heated conversations, and drinking deeply from the booze they had just bought from the caravan. Igris, on the other hand, had settled quietly at the head of a table, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed, withdrawing into his own thoughts.
After a while, he slowly cracked one eye open and looked at Bifur and Nori sitting at the table just ahead. Thanks to the special care provided by Elrond's healing elves, the two dwarves seemed to be recovering quickly from their wounds. Bifur in particular was extremely pleased to be rid of the axe stuck in his head; unlike his former absent-minded, irritable, and odd self, he now had a much more cheerful and energetic demeanor. Watching this scene, Igris assessed the situation to himself.
'Looks like we can hit the road again soon… we need to keep moving within three to four days. The longer we delay, the more trouble we'll run into.'
Igris turned slightly and looked at Thorin right beside him.
"So, Boss? When are we hitting the road?"
Thorin slowly set his mug down on the table, paused for a moment, and looked toward Nori and Bifur as well.
"Let's add another day or two. We'll see what we do based on how those two are faring…"
Then he let out a deep, troubled sigh.
"Though it's hard to wait for both of them; we must set out again within a week at most."
Igris nodded in agreement before shifting his gaze to Balin.
"How's bonding with our new friends going, Balin?"
Thorin turned to his old, wise teacher with curiosity as well. Balin took a calm sip from his drink before answering in a dignified manner.
"Not bad. Frankly, their culture is quite different from what I expected… they're more like merchants. Of course, that's not a bad thing, but they lack a warrior's edge. It's going to take longer for them to get used to us than we thought."
Igris nodded in understanding at Balin's observation. Then, looking at the trio of Rangers sitting right across from him, he changed the subject.
"Halt, managed to find a suitable route?"
Halt, who was busy taking a serving of the meat stew Igris had prepared, raised his head to look at Igris.
"Sort of… let's say I've identified a few good routes rather than a single path. Things got a bit easier after getting fresh intelligence from Lady Galadriel and the Elven twins…"
As Halt finished speaking and returned to his food, Gilan chimed in.
"But the problems don't end there… we're nearly a hundred people, Igris. That makes us like a giant bonfire burning in the dark in the Misty Mountains. It narrows down the paths we can take, too. Considering the Orcs and mercenaries stuck to our tails, our job isn't getting any easier."
Igris nodded with a calm expression.
"We don't need to run this time. Unless we run into a force of five hundred, we can fight. Our high-level expert count has increased. Our infantry and cavalry numbers are sufficient. With our horse archers and the three of you, we can fight with a proper formation now."
Hearing these words, Will nodded in agreement.
"I agree, but we should still be careful. If we can make it through without any casualties, that would be even better."
Igris nodded in troubled agreement.
"That's exactly why I asked for horse archers in the first place. I want to avoid close-quarters combat as much as possible."
As the three Rangers accepted this sound strategy with understanding, Igris asked them again.
"So, are there any shortages or things we need?"
Halt nodded without a second thought.
"Yes. Now that we have spare horses, we should get as many arrows as we can, along with extra weapons. We can put heavy stuff like provisions into your inventory, but either way, we're going to need plenty of arrows for this journey."
Gilan nodded, adding to Halt's words.
"Merchant Simon should have a few hundred arrows; we can get them from him."
Igris thought for a moment and shook his head.
"No. Surrounding towns and villages might need those arrows. We've already bought a lot of supplies; taking their arrows too would cause problems for them."
Those at the table exchanged glances for a moment, silently appreciating Igris's thoughtful consideration. Igris calmly continued.
"Don't worry, I'll speak with Gandalf and try to get arrows from the Elves."
The Rangers nodded, dropping the subject and refocusing on their hot food. This time, Igris turned his head and looked at the Witcher Vesemir, who was sitting right next to the Rangers.
"Master Vesemir. What have you learned about the monster and creature ecology in the Misty Mountains?"
Vesemir turned to Igris with a wise, slightly tired look.
"Just call me Vesemir, kid."
As Igris smiled and nodded, Vesemir continued.
"I've learned a few things, don't worry. I'll guide you through the mountains and keep you away from the monsters."
Igris bowed his head with a grateful expression.
"Good."
Just then, the wide doors of the hall opened quietly. Elrond, his wife Celebrían, and his daughter Arwen stepped inside with graceful strides. The moment they entered, the noise died down instantly, and every eye turned toward them. With a faint smile and a graceful nod, Elrond greeted the crowd. He then walked straight to the head of the table where Igris's party sat, standing by the place specially reserved for him. He turned his face toward the Oakenshield company, who were hanging on his every move.
"Welcome to Rivendell, my friends. I have already met the members who arrived first, but let me introduce myself to those of you who have just arrived. I am Elrond, son of Eärendil, Lord of Rivendell. It is an honor to host you, and I hope you are enjoying a peaceful time in my realm. I would have liked to welcome you sooner, but I have been quite busy recently due to certain matters. Thank you for your understanding."
Elrond gently took his wife's hand beside him.
"This is my wife, Celebrían."
Celebrían bowed her head quietly with a regal poise, greeting the assembly. Then Elrond introduced his daughter.
"And this is my beloved daughter, Arwen."
After Arwen also offered a warm smile and bowed to the group, Elrond continued speaking.
"If you encounter any serious trouble in my realm, you may consult them."
When Elrond finished his speech, many of the dwarves and humans in the group were slightly taken aback by such refined Elven hospitality, but they nodded quietly and offered their thanks. As the host, Elrond spoke his final words.
"Now, you may return to your meal. Make yourselves at home."
As the company respectfully bowed their heads and refocused on their meal, Elrond slowly sat down. Meanwhile, the dwarf Zoltan was staring at Elrond with a look of surprise mixed with admiration, before leaning over to whisper to Kargan beside him.
"Damn, if our Elves back home saw this guy, they'd go through total culture shock!"
Kargan nodded, agreeing with him. If the oppressed Elves of the Witcher universe—hiding out in forests and fighting guerrilla warfare—were to see Elrond, they would probably be completely speechless. He genuinely wondered how they would react, especially to the fact that Elrond was an Elven lord who ruled his own sovereign domain and had a respected, peaceful people. Sitting right next to them, Ciri chimed in with a giggle.
"Yeah, imagine if Toruviel and the Scoia'tael Elves were here! I wonder what their faces would look like."
As Zoltan nodded with a laugh, Elrond had seated himself at the other table and was looking at Igris with attentive eyes.
"Frankly, I didn't expect your kind to descend from such a noble bloodline."
Igris shook his head with a deep, helpless sigh that made it clear just how exhausted he was by this whole bloodline issue.
"Yeah… tell me about it…"
Elrond couldn't help but chuckle at Igris's plight.
"Not something you expected, I take it?"
Igris grumbled crankily.
"What do you think, Lord Elrond? As if I don't have enough on my plate already, now I'll have to deal with the Dragon continent! From what I gathered from Lady Galadriel, there's a high chance they'll come haunting me."
Elrond let his smile fade, adopting a serious and wise demeanor.
"Indeed. Had you not been of Obsidian blood, you wouldn't have drawn much interest… well, actually, even if you were of Silver, Gold, or Light lineage, it would still be an issue…"
Pressing two fingers against his forehead to rub away a sudden headache, Igris asked,
"…Is there any way the Elves just don't inform them?"
Elrond chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Unfortunately, we cannot do that. You haven't run into trouble yet because your powers have not fully awakened, Igris. But once your Chaos energy awakens, you will encounter real problems. For the good of Middle-earth, we must report this."
Listening silently to them at the table, Vesemir cut in, frowning as he asked:
"What kind of problems are we talking about that would pose a continental threat?"
Elrond let out a deep sigh and explained with utmost gravity.
"Interdimensional portals."
At the far end of the table, listening quietly with her heightened Witcher senses, Ciri startled in shock at what she heard. Unaware of her reaction, Elrond quietly continued.
"Obsidian dragons are born with this ability. By controlling a wild energy called Chaos energy, they can easily breach the membranes separating dimensions."
Then he locked his eyes directly onto Igris.
"And these portals are not one-way. If your power spirals out of control and you accidentally open a portal you shouldn't, it will bring harm to both you and everyone around you."
Hearing this, Igris slouched his shoulders gloomily and nodded with a sigh.
"You're right… in a case like this, taking precautions is for the best."
Elrond nodded approvingly.
"Thank you for your understanding."
But Igris immediately added, as if trying to haggle:
"Still, can't you give me a few years? There are things I need to do. I really don't want to deal with dragons right now."
After a moment's pause, Elrond silently shook his head in refusal.
"Unfortunately, that decision rests with Lady Galadriel. You will have to speak with her."
As Igris let his shoulders drop in total exhaustion and groaned in distress, Arwen, standing right next to them, giggled gracefully.
"Still, this will turn out to be a grander adventure than you expected, Igris."
Feeling the weight of her words, Igris felt his face darken even further.
"Yeah… tell me about it… If you want to stand up to dragons, go ahead and try all you want, Arwen. Just leave me out of it."
Startled by those words, Arwen quickly waved her hands in refusal.
"I'll pass. I have no intention of doing anything like that. I'd much rather wish you good luck."
As Igris's face sank a bit deeper into helplessness, Thorin, who had been listening to this conversation with great relish from the very start, smirked wickedly and gave Igris a hard slap on the back.
"Don't worry. If the dragons really do come, I'll be right there too…"
Igris raised a single eyebrow in surprise, looking at Thorin. He had thought Thorin was going to stand up for him, but as Thorin kept grinning, Igris's eyebrow started twitching.
"I'll be watching from the front row as they beat you up. Hahaha…"
As his eyebrow twitched violently, Igris's face darkened completely. He took a deep breath in and out to calm himself down. Then, he put a smile on his face.
"Ah~ by the way, Lord Elrond, I'd like to ask you a question."
Elrond looked at Igris with curiosity and gave a polite nod.
"Go ahead. I will help if I can answer it."
Without taking his eyes off Thorin, Igris calmly asked:
"Are you still not going to offer the Dwarves an explanation about your past? Especially to Thorin?"
The moment those words spilled from Igris's lips, everyone at the table flinched. Not understanding what was going on, Elrond frowned and spoke with curiosity.
"What explanation?"
Thorin frowned in the exact same manner, asking harshly:
"Yes. What are you talking about?"
Igris paused for a second, giving his full attention to Thorin.
"Remember when I told you that you had a grand-uncle in Rivendell?"
Thorin frowned in annoyance.
"This nonsense again?"
Completely ignoring his snap, Igris chuckled calmly. Gesturing with his hand toward Elrond at the head of the table, he spoke with utter delight.
"It's not nonsense. Thorin, meet your uncle. Elrond, son of Eärendil, Lord of Rivendell—who also happens to be the sworn brother and best friend of your ancestor, Durin IV."
As these words echoed across the table, the Elves and Dwarves froze as if turned to stone, utterly shocked. The humans, on the other hand, exchanged bewildered glances for a second before nonchalantly going back to eating their food.
Faced with this revealed secret, Elrond couldn't collect his thoughts for a moment; it was an ancient, historic secret he certainly hadn't expected to hear. Frowning in deep astonishment, he asked:
"You… How do you know this?"
As for Thorin and Balin, they were experiencing the biggest shock of their lives right at that moment…