They had been accosted to chambers deep within the halls of Rivendell before they could even protest. One elf stayed behind; he had been given the glorious burden of updating the visiting dwarf-folk of Rivendell's situation. Tales of Hobbits that arrived under heavy pursuit and such like, Rekena paid him little attention – Gloin was the only one to show him such a kindness.

The arrival of a group of halflings had caused quite the commotion among the elves of Rivendell. They had been chased to the boarders by a band of riders cloaked in black. Hearing about them reminded Rekena of their own rider in black, the messenger that had plagued their King's mind for near enough a year now. The halflings had already been at Rivendell for a time now but they were weary – being chased hadn't done them well. Gloin was gladdened to learn that his dear friend Bilbo was not among the exhausted Hobbits hold up in the healing house. Bilbo wasn't just a friend of Gloin, he was a friend of all dwarves and most revered in Erebor for his heroics and kind heart.

It was late afternoon when they were summoned before the elf lord. In truth Rekena had expected it to take far longer before they were called upon – there arrival must have been a surprise to the elves – they had sent no word of warning and even if they had, any group of dwarves was always troublesome in the eyes of the elves.

Only a few words had passed between them and the elf sent to collect them, he was austere and remote with a cool harshness only the elves could master – he obviously had no time for such visitors – not that Rekena cared for his distain, they hadn't come for his company nor asked for opinion – they had not travelled so far for him after all.

When they reached the lord's chambers their elvish guide departed with no words just a shallow bow. The doors closed and Rekena, Gimli and Gloin were left in what appeared to be an empty room, it wasn't long before double doors across the way opened and in walked, he who could only be the elf lord of Rivendell.

His face neither aged nor youthful, yet many a winter had left behind both their grace and wisdom for his life bore both sorrow and joy. His hair was dark, like tendrils of ink against his icy gaze – eyes set as clear as the evening around them with the light of the night to come brightly shining in their depths. Here stood Elrond, Lord of Rivendell and might among both elves and men.

"Greetings wonderers, what news comes from the lonely mountain of late?"

"We come seeking counsel and fulfilment of a promise you once gave my people and my King." Gloin, never one for politics or pretty words – he cut to the point, long were the words of elves but the days were short, as was their time.

"Any promise I once gave to Dain I extended to you." Elrond replied, looking upon those gathered before him. "Gloin, son of Gróin – many years have passed since you last visited my halls, have they not?"

Gloin gave him no reply.

"And you, Gimli – your son and your likeness." He finally turned to Rekena who felt exposed under his piercing eyes, but she stood her ground, matching his stare with her own fierce glare. "We, however, have not met before I am afraid, I do not know your name."

"You stand before Rekena, Kin of Durin's Folk, Sword Under the Mountain and Captain of the Guard of Erebor, Dornar Barakor." Gimli declared, uttering her full name and titles to the elf lord.

"Dornar Barakor, I am unfamiliar with this moniker."

"As you are with the ways of my people." Rekena replied, her eyes narrowed – he may be a man of great talent and knowledge but even the simplest way of the dwarves were lost upon this elf lord for even he was not privy to the many secrets of the dwarves. "Dornar Barakor, shield of the King."

"A great honour I am sure." Elrond turned his attention back to Gloin, Rekena's years may have outnumbered Gloin's but as Elrond recognised, he was the senior in this conversation. "Come." He said leading them out through the doors he had entered, they opened onto a wide balcony from which they overlooked Rivendell and deeper into the river and gorge that surrounded his land.

"A year ago, a messenger came for our king – a rider of the night sent from Mordor. Thrice he has come, and he still awaits our answer, but our King seeks no friendship with Sauron and his evil's." Gloin informed Elrond, he spoke evenly but Rekena could hear his worry – the hearts of the dwarves of the lonely mountain had been restless in recent years for they had much to be weary of. "Many things were offered and spoken of but always did the messenger speak of rings – three he promised and one he sought. We three have been sent by the King – we seek to learn why he desires this ring, this least of rings, and to warn our common friend Bilbo that he too is sought by the darkness of Mordor. We crave your advice, Elrond – the Shadow grows and nears. Messengers have also come to the King in Dale and we fear that he may yield and if not he will likely fall, war is gathering to the east and we fear the Mordor's allies may move on Dale and Erebor. Furthermore, we worry for Moria and our kin who left for there nearly thirty years ago – perhaps the elf lord knows of what goes on in the darkness of Khazad-dûm for we have heard no word of them."

"You were right to come, this ring you speak of, the least of rings – it presents a mounting danger to us all. This messenger of Mordor confirms my suspicions – Sauron is gathering himself again."

"We feared as much." Gloin mirrored the elf lords solemn look – they feared for their people and what was to come.

"It troubles me that you are not the only ones who came to Rivendell in recent days with foreboding accounts." He looked out toward his own lands, troubled and almost unsure of his own mind – that was if an elf lord ever could be unsure of himself. Dwarfs may be a people of the earth, of stone and soil but the elves were unmoving and unchanged. They too were of the earth but to Rekena they seemed to be no more than a cold marble - remote and unchanged. The lacked the warmth of the halls of Erebor for they seemed mournful of a time only they could remember. "Ennorath is approaching a season of darkness."

"The Last Alliance was over three thousand years ago, such darkness ended with the second age." Gimli reminded him, the last alliance was the most epic and grand force that their world had ever summoned all to face down the great evil of Sauron and thus passed the second age. The third age was forged on a land purged of evil yet with the black messenger came the heralding of its return.

"The final stand of the armies of Eldarin and of Men." Elrond nodded in agreement.

"The Durins of Moria fought alongside your kind, do not be so quick to forget." Rekena reminded him curtly.

"You know your history well child." Elrond smiled upon Rekena though it felt like he was looking beyond her toward something she herself did not recognise.

"I know the Last Alliance was generations ago, a promise lost to time." She replied. "Men have become weak and elves have retreated to their great halls, we the few who remain are left to deal with the evils of this world - civilisations have risen and collapsed in the time since that last stand against Sauron and yet he returns with threats toward Erebor and my king."

"Sauron is trouble for more than just the dwarfs. You helped my people once before." Gloin muttered, as though he was begrudged that all those years ago it was Elrond who allowed them to decipher the code to reclaiming their homeland and the kingdom of Erebor.

"Sauron is trouble for all of - I was a younger elf when I last faced him. Whispers of his return have increased in recent years. There was fear that had he not been defeated Smaug would have aligned himself with the resurrected Sauron. The greatest among us has tried to ward off his evil but I fear even he is lost. Half a lifetime ago it was when I thought I had seen the last of him."

"I forget how old you elves are." Gimli said, a scornful look was all he had for the Lord of Rivendell.

"The third age is waning."

"The third age is the peace that followed the defeat of Sauron you really believe that it has come to an end. We may face smaller evils here but the great evil surely he cannot be back, it must merely be whispers of supporters fighting for a long dead cause." Rekena, while she shared the worry of the King and elders she didn't share in their despair – they gave up too quickly on their people and their resolve, they had triumphed over Sauron and his forces of great evil in the past and even then, who was to say it was that same evil that they faced in this moment.

"Not just anyone could have promised those rings to our people Rekena." Today was not the day that she expected Gloin to reprimand her, yet here he was siding with an elf over his own kin. "That messenger was of Mordor, it may have been many years ago that he poisoned our people with those rings, but we are not so quick to forget his deceit as he is to forget our resilience."

"As it may be, but it is that same resilience that gives me hope."

"There is a sickness that pours from the gates of Mordor and it threatens our lands and our people and soon enough it shall threaten you also." Gloin said turning from Rekena back to Elrond.

"The Children of Ilúvatar have reached a convergence, the inheritance of the greater shall be passed to the lesser and there shall mark the end of third age and the diminishing of the Quendi." He spoke with an enlightened sorrow that touched Rekena's heart but the true dwarf among them, the elder and wiser Gloin had little time for the riddles of elves.

"We don't know of your politics elf, speak plainly."

"I apologise master dwarf, there is much that lays heavy on my mind. Thank you for bringing this troubling news to my attention. I shall give it some thought and then we shall speak again."

Gimli only gave a gruff mumble before both he and Gloin hastily exited, perhaps just as the fate of the world rested heavily on Elrond, the food and drink waiting in their quarters weighed heavy upon them. Before Rekena could join them, the elf lord spoke her name and asked her to stay.

"I have little to add over what has been spoken, we seek you council and to warn you of what is to come. Nothing more."

"I was mistaken, I have heard of you before – whispers, but they were there never the less."

"And were these whispers kind?"

"They were truthful if nothing else." Rekena was sure she saw smile pass over the elf lord lips. "Legolas of Mirkwood arrived not long after you did, it seems you are not the only one from the east that comes to warn us."

"Of Mirkwood? I am not familiar with him, Erebor has little contact with the elves though – perhaps I have met him in Dale, plenty come there for trade."

"He is the son of the King."

"Then I certainly have heard of him." Rekena muttered with a scowl.

"Are his whispers not as kind as your?" Elrond inquired breaking his stone-cold gaze by raising an eyebrow.

"As kind as any dwarf could be to a princeling of Mirkwood."

"You talk as if you are not one of the Eldar yourself."

"I am of Durin's kin, they are who raised me and that is who I am."

"You have Quendi blood child."

"You said that word before when you spoke of the end of the age." Rekena wondered carefully before catching her curiosity. "I told your guards, and I will tell you the same – I speak neither Sindarin nor Quenya."

"You must speak a little, tales of the elven shieldmaiden of Erebor may explain who you are now, but you were born to the Eldar, were you really that young that you remember nothing of your own language and culture?"

"I grew up with dwarfs because they pulled my body from a pile of elven carcasses and nursed me to health, they have sheltered and me raised me well. I may not remember the culture I was born into, but I am not Eldar or Quendi or whatever else you want to call me."

Elrond could see that he had angered her, seeing no need to provoke her further he changed subject – after all she herself had said they sought council and answers to their problems, a problem that plagued them all.

"There is an evil that grows across the land, even if you don't believe it is Sauron reborn, you must recognise at least that rider who threatens you King carries a message that is a threat to us all."

"That is why we are here isn't it," She reminded him. "I am not blind that menace we face, I just have resigned myself to failure like the rest of you have."

"I resign myself to nothing young one. Perhaps you have heard of the white council, we watch over many people and are wise to many threats, it was not that long ago that we purged an old castle of Mirkwood of a similar evil to that which we face today, one of our own pursued it, but even he – the greatest of us – was corrupted and he has withdrawn to his tall tower and fortified his gates. I am weary of a power capable of such things."

"You speak as though evil has only been brewing in recent days – this malevolence existed when we retook Erebor and even before that."

"This evil is older than many things and it certainly is a threat of not of this age – we have faced it before, and it seems we must face it again."

"And face together it seems." Rekena managed a ghostly smile. "I shall take my leave master elf, perhaps we shall talk again over dinner."

And that night they did dine upon a most glorious of feasts, it seemed the elves had learned from the last time the Dwarves of Durin descended upon their halls. For instead of meagre green helpings there was food aplenty for all. It was there that Rekena for the first time was introduced to Hobbits, those even smaller and possibly hungrier than dwarves themselves. They were a joyous bunch, an infectious sort of joy that overtook even Rekena as they supped and shared stories. Hearing Gloin recount the tales and times of their people was a gift to listen to. It was then that for the first time she had the honour of being introduced to Bilbo the renowned, it was Gloin's pleasure to introduce his son and sister to the hobbit with whom he had his greatest of adventures.