Life in Rivendell could have been boring. Expecially if you had nothing better to do other than reading: yes, that's what Nardil had been doing for a good month now.

It was late summer and the insane heat was a big issue for her and her powers.

'Remember not to stay to much in the heat! Blah blah... always wear a cloak...' In her head had echoed annoyingly over and over Elrond's recommendations.

"I just want to have fun!" She had groaned more than once during the long hot season, frustrated to stay in the same place for hours, if not days.

One day, however, the boredom was broken by a sudden intrusion of a orc pack in the eastern territory and the arrival of a group of dwarves in the valley.

Nardil ran down the stairs of her room, holding the skirt of her dress in order to not fall over and feeling as excited as ever. "Lindir!" She shouted, waving at the elven butler.

"Miss Nardil! Are you well?" He bowed at her. She smiled at his gesture. "I am fine, I'd just like to know where to find uncle Elrond."

"Yes, my lady. I was just coming to inform you that the dinner is ready."

The halls of the ancient elven castle shone in the light of the sunset as she ran through them, one by one, until she arrived at the dining room.

It was strangely arranged: two of the tea tables were placed in the middle for the dwarves to eat and the round table, where they usually sat to ate, was pushed against a wall.

She stood there, staring blankly at the scene before her until she heard Elrond call for her.

Walking past the musicians, she noticed how her chair was taken by Gandalf and the chair on the right by Thorin, so she sat on the chair opposite Elrond.

Gandalf greeted her with a warm smile, which she gladly returned before focusing her eyes on the dwarf on her right: he was really handsome, certainly not the image of 'dwarf' she had had in mind. He was pretty, she thought.

In that moment, he glanced at her. She quickly turned away and looked down at her plate. "Thorin, I present to you Nardil." Suddenly said Gandalf.

Thorin looked at her and nodded his head. "Nice to meet you." He mumbled. His voice was so low, another kind of tone and pronunciation from the elves.

She smiled shyly at him. "It's my pleasure."
As they went on eating, the dwarves got bored and started to sing and throw food, barely missing her and the other people at her table a couple of times.

Night came fast, along with a cool breeze and a big shining moon.

Nardil was having a walk in the woods, hoping to finally get some free time and use her power: everyday she had done that, in order to train her fighting and magic skills.

She used to practice with Lindir or Elrond ever since the elven king had took her with him, but as she had grown older, she had felt the need to find her own style and to not bother others every time she wanted to train.

That evening, after reaching the large field where she usually trained, she felt strangely embarassed to swirl her daggers around in the usual way, hitting precise spots on the imaginary foe she pretended to fight. Maybe it was them, those dwarves and that wizard... Something inside her head was still trying to work out what made her look away from that dwarven lord earlier that evening.

Just bringing back the image of his handsome face made her stomach twist and her cheeks burn. Come on, Nardil. He is just a dwarf! You shouldn't be this flustered...

Even her own thoughts weren't sure.

Once she had finished, she dropped herself on the cold ground, panting and cleaning up the mess she had made with her magic.

A soft sound of cracking branches in the wood caught her attention, making her body immediately tense up. "Who is it?" She shouted, summoning her ice daggers.

"I am so sorry, I did not meant to scare you." A soft voice replied, as a small man with pointy ears and big feet showed up from behind a bush, holding his hands up in surrender.

The girl recognised him as a member of Oakenshield's company and sighed in relief, making her weapons disappear. "Don't worry. Will you join me as I rest a bit?" She asked him politely, pointing at a log.

The hobbit nodded and stumbled over her, sitting down on the large chunk of wood.

A wide smile spread on Nardil's face as she mentally compared his small figure with the one of a tipical elf. "Nardil is my name." She spoke softly. The hobbit smiled as well, introducing himself as Bilbo Baggins.

"If I may ask, why is a strange group like yours wandering in Middle Earth?" She asked. "Well, it is a strange story..."

He told her how the company simply showed up at his door and managed to drag him away from the comfort of his house to a possibly deadly adventure, his way of narrating made her often laugh when he imitated the dwarves attitudes.

But, after all that talking, the small halfling was still really interested in her magic. "You are not an elf, are you?"

A soft chuckle left her lips. "No, I'm an half dragon." She explained. "With... ice?" He replied.

"My story is long and boring, so I won't bother you with the full version. My mother was a human while my father was an ice dragon, a rare kind of dragon who can, unlike regular dragons, control ice over fire."

"That's really interesting, Nardil. Maybe you could be of help to us, because we will have to deal with a dragon at the end of our quest." Bilbo's words failed to hide his worry.

Nardil knew really well the story of Erebor, the mountain where, in that moment, was living the dragon Smaug, one of the most dangerous and greedy creatures ever existed.

"That's why you are coming with us." A baritone interrupted them. From the woods, Thorin came walking towards them, stopping right at the edge of the field.

Bilbo stiffly stood up, coughing and fixing his clothing, as well as the young lady, whose cheeks flushed at the dwarven prince presence.

'Oh, come on! This is not the case, Nardil!'

"Who told you that I'll come?" She asked, felling a bit reluctant to leave her home with those strangers. The dwarf chuckled. "Your king promised that you are skilled with dragons, so I've kindly accepted his offer."

The smirk on his face as he told her those harsh yet true words, teared her heart apart. Was Elrond planning to make her leave?

Without turning back, Nardil ran back to the castle, a uncomfortable sense of anxiety spreading in her chest as she thought of what Thorin had told her.

She broke into the observatory, interrupting Elrond's observations. "Why? Why do you want me to leave?" She choked out.

Elrond frowned for a second, before realising that she had finally heard the news. "I don't want you to leave, Nardil."

"Then, why did you sell me out to a stubborn and short and-" his arms wrapped around her sobbing figure. "I don't sell people. You need to go on this quest."

He parted from her and smiled, patting her head. "Living in that mountain there's a beast that relates to you. He is, in fact, one of the last who saw your father alive."

Her eyes widened. "M-my dad?"

"Yes. Smaug saw him lastly. Taking advantage of this journey is a great opportunity for you to fill in the holes in your past and finally focus on your future."

Her hands squeezed his as she looked up. "I-I am scared, though. I-I have never fully transformed." She muttered.

His arms slowly guided her to a stool, making her sit down. "Gandalf will always be with you, darling. I will always be with you, right here." He placed his hand on her chest, where her beating heart was pounding hardly against her ribs.

"You are like a daughter to me, I would never send you away like this if it wasn't for your own good."

After a long pause, Nardil sighed and nodded. "I will go, then."