The Dovahkiin – An Unexpected Journey

Chapter 7 – Imladris

Bryn walked behind Gandalf across the walkway to the courtyard where they were met by a dark haired Elf. He was not like the Elves of Tamriel, not that Bryn had been expecting him to, seeing as nothing else was like in Tamriel. The beings before Bryn almost glowed, the only similarity to the Mer being in their elongated ears, though these were not nearly as long. Unlike the Mer, these Elves looked just like humans did except these were beautiful, tall beings that seemed to float instead of walk.

"Mithrandir," the Elf greeted Gandalf.

"Ah. Lindir,"

"Stay sharp," Thorin whispered to Dwalin, making Bryn roll her eyes.

"Lastannem i athrannedh i Vruinen," (We heard you had crossed into the Valley.)

Gandalf ignored this. "I must speak with Lord Elrond,"

"My lord Elrond is not here," the Elf told him.

"Not here? Where is he?"

In answer, a familiar sounding horn blew from behind them, signaling the arrival of the Elfish cavalry. Gandalf turned, a smirk on his face, until he saw them arriving in the fashion they were, armed and ready for battle. The dwarves instantly started shouting to each other, shoving Bilbo into the center of the circle they created, weapons ready as the armed and mounted Elves surrounded them.

"Ifridi bekar!" Thorin shouted. "Hold ranks!"

Eventually, the Elves came to a stop and one separated himself from the rest, smiling down at Gandalf as he swung down from him steed.

"Gandalf!"

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf smiled in greeting. "Mellonnin! Mo evinedh?" (My friend! Where have you been?)

"Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na lant Vedui," (We have been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass.) Lord Elrond answered as he approached Gandalf, hugging him before the two of them looked down at the sword Lord Elrond had in hand. "Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near,"

"Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf told the Elf as he handed off the sword, the two of them looking down at the dwarves as Thorin stepped forward.

"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," Lord Elrond greeted.

Thorin frowned. "I do not believe we have met,"

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled Under the Mountain,"

"Indeed? He made no mention of you,"

Bryn stiffened at the subtle insult, looking over at Lord Elrond.

"Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin," (Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests.)

"What is he saying?" Gloin exclaimed angrily. "Does he offer us insult?"

"No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food," Gandalf told him, amused.

The dwarves quickly turned to each other to discuss this amongst themselves, turning back after a moment as Gloin spoke for them. "Ah well, in that case, lead on,"

Later that day, Bryn followed Thorin and Gandalf as they were led through Lord Elrond's chambers by the Elf himself, listening as Gandalf and Lord Elrond chatted amongst themselves. She felt very out of place amongst the elegance of the Elves even when she'd removed her gear, weapons and armor. She was dressed in a leather bodice over her dark red blouse that she always wore beneath her armor along with her leather pants, finding that she'd forgotten anything else back in Skyrim. Usually she kept a separate set of clothes in her knapsack for occasions like this but she'd forgotten to pack another set after Alea had ripped her other pair.

One of the Elves pulled out her chair for her, allowing her to sit down across from Lord Elrond while Gandalf and Thorin sat on either side of her. She thanked him as settled into her seat, brushing her straw colored hair back behind her ear. She'd been allowed to bathe and she'd been thankful for it, but now her hair was down, falling straight down to her hips. Alea had told her that she looked better with it down but Bryn had always found it troublesome unless it was braided back and up in a ponytail.

Bryn remained silent throughout most of the dinner, saying her pleases and thank yous throughout the dinner. She was usually much better at conversation with others but she found that it was much harder when one is not in their own world.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver," the Lord Elrond was telling Thorin, balancing the blade in his hand as he looked it over. "A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin,"

Gandalf had commented on the swords they'd found and asked to have them looked at and named. Lord Elrond had been intrigued, first looking over Thorin's. Now he was handing it back to the dwarf who, much to Bryn's surprise, took it back gratefully.

"May it serve you well,"

Lord Elrond then looked across the table at Bryn, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Bryn ducked her eyes and handed over the sword that Thorin had offered her from the Troll-hoard. The Elf took it carefully, looking it over with a clinical expertise for a long moment before he looked up at her.

"And this is Aurtog, the Morning-bringer or the Dawn-breaker-" Bryn almost spat out her drink. Back at her home in Whiterun, hanging on her wall was a sword named Dawnbreaker, given to her by the Daedric Prince Meridia. It was strange having this parallel in this world. "- also forged by the High Elves of the West," Bryn took it back thankfully, keeping her eyes down while Thorin looked at her curiously.

Next, Gandalf handed over his sword. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer," Lord Elrond told him, recognizing it instantly, barely having to unsheathe the sword at all to know it. "Sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age. How did you come by these?"

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," Gandalf told the Elf easily, much to Thorin's annoyance. "Shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs,"

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"

Thorin's expression soured almost instantly, glaring over at the grey wizard for nearly revealing their reason for being there to the Elf. Bryn could tell that Thorin was about to leave, his hands tightening on the armrests of his chair so that he could stand. She quickly reached over and place her hand on his arm, looking over at Lord Elrond.

"What is anyone doing on the road?" Bryn smiled. "Traveling,"

Thorin let out a cough to cover us his chuckle whilst Lord Elrond looked over at her curiously, a smile twitching on the corners of his face. "And you, Lady Bryn, how did a shield maiden of Rohan come to travel with a company of dwarves?"

"I'm not of your shield maidens," Bryn told him. "I am from a land called Skyrim. I am traveling with these fine Dwemer until I can be returned home,"

"Skyrim?" Lord Elrond repeated, as if tasting the world on his tongue. "I've never heard of such a place in my long years. I would very much enjoy a conversation with you about you homeland,"

Bryn bowed her head to him. "It would be my pleasure, milord,"

"It will surprise you the kind of things this Skyrim has," Gandalf told the Elf with a nod of his head towards Bryn. "She's told me only a bit of her country and it still manages to confound me. She's told me of her friends that are orcs, of Elves that do not look as you do, of dwarves that have gone extinct and of dragons that have yet to be slain,"

Lord Elrond and Thorin both looked over at her with raised eyebrows. It almost made her laugh if not for the seriousness of the conversation.

"Dragons?" Lord Elrond questioned, looking over at Bryn as Thorin tensed up again, conscious of where this conversation could be heading again.

"In my land I am called the Dragonborn," Bryn told him. "I was given the blood, soul and voice of a dragon by Akatosh, the king of the Divines. I can kill dragons,"

"And is that why you travel with the sons of Durin?" Lord Elrond asked her seriously. "To slay dragons?"

Bryn glanced over at a very angry Thorin and smiled. "It is true… I have a particular set of skills that will prove useful the Dwemer company,"

"And that is?"

Bryn glanced at Lord Elrond and brightened her smile. "The art of conversation,"

Lord Elrond glanced between them but didn't comment beyond; "I wish you well on your journey home, Lady Bryn," He then looked over at the shorter table that housed the rest of the company, most over them complaining about the accommodations. "An Outlander, a Halfling and thirteen dwarves… strange traveling companions, Gandalf,"

"These are the descendants of the hour of Durin. They are noble, ancient folk and are surprisingly cultured. They have a deep love of the arts,"

As if to prove Gandalf wrong, Bofur suddenly climbed onto the table and began to sing his own tune, thoroughly stomping the harpist. The song he sang reminded Bryn of the songs in her own land, ones that spoke of old stories and could cheer up even the heaviest of souls despite what the lyrics actually alluded to. The tune made her sway to Bofur's song, feeling the urge to clap along with him even as the dwarves were tossing food about in the most impolite of ways. The song brought a smile to Bryn's face that Bofur noticed, bringing him to her side to bring her from her seat.

He trotted around with her, stamping his feet in a way that she could follow clumsily. Even being a skilled fighter didn't mean that she'd ever accomplished the art of dancing. Bofur was patient with her, his voice guiding her around the tables and through the shocked throng of Elves on the balcony. Her laughter filled the air as she swung out at the end of the tune, Bofur's hand leaving hers as she dropped back down into her seat.

She clapped at him appreciatively as the dwarves hollered in approval. However, when she turned back to Lord Elrond, his delicate eyebrows were raised towards his hairline in disapproval, forcing her eyes to drop to her food. However, she let her eyes slide towards Thorin who was giving her that smirk that might have been an approving smile.

That night, Bryn changed into her sleeping shirt and climbed into bed. Becoming an adventurer, a mercenary, a Companion and most recently the Dragonborn made her especially appreciative every time she climbed into a bed. It reminded her there was more to life than grass or soft dirt.

She closed her eyes and found herself standing on a battleground, her war axe in her and her throat aching from Shouts she didn't remember making. As she looked around, she found that she was in a place she did not recognize, the air cold and quiet as she turned around. Behind her was three spirits fighting Alduin, energy spinning around him that seemed to be tying him to the ground and keeping him from taking flight.

"My teeth to your neck, Dovahkiin!" he growled at her as his head rose above the warriors slashing at him. Though he spoke in mostly the dragon language, deep in her soul, she knew what he was shouting at her. "You have become strong but I am Alduin! The first born of Akatosh! Face me! YOL TOOR SHUL!"

She ducked as his Shout flew at her, rolling over the ground to come up into a crouch to glare up at the World Eater. "FO KRAH DIIN!" She stood and ran at him, following the wave of ice that passed straight through the female spirit. She jumped and sliced her axe across the ancient dragon's face, her axe whining as it hit against the tough scales of his body.

"My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin," he taunted at her as she landed, diving beneath the powerful flap of his wings. "I cannot be slain here by you or anyone else! You will die in terror knowing your final fate!"

She looked up just as his long fangs came bearing down on her, his mouth swallowing her whole, his teeth cutting her in half.

She came up screaming, her throat soar as she forced a hand over her mouth. She looked around her room to find the ceiling covered in ice whilst her body was sticky with a cold sweat. She shivered despite herself, hugging her body as she tried to rid her mind of her horror filled nightmares.

"You must return to Skyrim," a deep voice sounded beside her, much too loud for her ears. She gasped, covering her ears to glare at whoever was in her room. She looked over to find no one there but could hear the distinct sounds of something shifting beside her, something big.

"Who are you?"

"I am your patron. I am Akatosh,"

"If you truly are Akatosh… why have I been sent to this place,"

She could hear him shift again, a great shuddering moving through her bed as if he'd sat upon her floor. "You are the Dovahkiin and therefore have a destiny, little joore. However, you were not ready to face my son, the World Eater,"

"So this is a journey to ready me for Alduin?" Bryn clarified, almost feeling a bit insulted by the Divine. However, she couldn't help but know he was right. It would have taken someone dragging her kicking and screaming to face the World Eater after what he'd done to her.

"You are not ready and the Dwemer of this world needed a slayer of dragons,"

"Then I was sent here for a purpose," Bryn nodded looking down at her feet. "I agree with your plans Akatosh. I enjoy the company of these Dwemer and know they will need the guidance of a Dovahkiin before the end, however… I would hope for a better deposit into this world," She frowned at where she thought him to be, rubbing a hand against her back. "It was a mighty nasty fall, my lord,"

"My apologies," The sound of his deep luscious laugh shook the room and lulled her back to sleep against her will. "Goodnight, my Dovahkiin,"

The next day was spent in thought, wandering the halls of the Elvish court. It was nice to have a these moments that simply allowed her to stop for a minute and think. Most of her time in Skyrim was spent on the move, always doing something, saving someone, killing something, finding an old artifact. It was pleasurable to simply sit on the railing in Rivendell with her legs hanging of the edge, looking out at the waterfalls.

"I thought I would find you here,"

Bryn nearly fell off the railing into the water below, her eyes wide and heart hammering as she turned back to look at the Dwemer king. She frowned at his amused expression, turning back to looked out at the waterfalls again, determined to ignore him.

"Gandalf has called upon Lord Elrond or a meeting of sorts. I would find it advantageous for you to be there… after all, you are here because of your skills in conversation,"

Bryn snorted, her eyes still staring out before her. "I thought Gandalf might appreciate that comment. It's not as if you are the most polite of guests, even when excepting the hospitality of your supposed enemies,"

Thorin frowned at her. "You wouldn't understand,"

"Really?" she asked, spinning herself around so that she was sitting on the railing, facing him. "There are Elves in my land called the Thalmor. I once was injured on the road and was assisted by a few of their men. I had to bite my tongue and take the "generous" help that they offered a lowly Nord like myself. They had no idea that I wanted to slit their throats the whole time. However, as I began to know them, despite their pride, they were not the Thalmor I hated. They were foot soldiers following orders,"

Bryn launched herself off the railing so that she was on her feet, using her height as an advantage as she looked down that the king.

"Knowing when you need help is the first step towards being a humble person and being a humble person is the first step towards being a leader… you have none of this,"

She stepped past him without another word, leaving him to follow as she moved towards the direction of Lord Elrond's chambers. There she found Gandalf, Balin, Bilbo and Lord Elrond waiting for them as the moon rose in the sky. Bryn stood off, leaning lazily against one of the columns, watching as Thorin stubbornly refused to give up his map to the Elf.

"Our business is no concern of Elves,"

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map,"

"It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect, as are its secrets,"

"Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves," Gandalf sighed, not hiding his annoyance. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!"

Bryn straightened away from her column and spoke. "You do realize, with all your caterwauling and arguing, he knows that the map that you show him has great importance to you, whereas, if you hadn't made such a fuss, all he'd know was that you were showing him a map you found that you couldn't read," Thorin glared at the woman while she just shrugged at him. "Just pointing it out. You might as well show it to him now,"

Out of everything, this seemed to get through to the dwarf. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the folded parchment.

"Thorin, no," Balin growled.

Thorin ignored him, handing the map to Lord Elrond.

The Elf took one look at it and gave the dwarf a surprised look. "Erebor? What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin went to speak but was interrupted by Gandalf.

"It's mainly academic," the wizard answered. "As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?"

Thorin and Gandalf shared a look, Thorin bowing his head discretely in thanks.

A few steps away, Lord Elrond looked down at the map thoughtfully, turning the parchment this way and that in the light of the moon.

"Cirth ithil,"

"Moon runes," Gandalf repeated in the common tongue, looking over at the rest of the group with a smile. "Of course. An easy thing to miss,"

"In this case, it is true," Lord Elrond nodded without looking up from the map. "Moon runes an only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written,"

"Can you read them?" Thorin asked.

Without answering, Lord Elrond led them through Rivendell until they arrived at a room below the cliffs of the city. It was a small broken ledge with a large crystal table at its edge, looking out through the waterfalls at the valleys below.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago," Lord Elrond explained as he placed the map down on the crystal table. "It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight,"

At that moment, Bryn watched in amazement as the light of the moon shined down on them, lighting up the crystal. The light filtered through the map, revealing glowing blue writing in one of the corners of the map which Lord Elrond read to them; "Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole,"

"Durin's Day?" Bryn asked.

"It is the start of the Dwarves' new year," Gandalf explained. "When the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together,"

"This is ill news," Thorin murmured. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us,"

"We still have time," Balin spoke up.

"Time? For what?"

"To find the entrance. We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened,"

"So this is your purpose?" Lord Elrond spoke. "To enter the mountain?"

Thorin puffed up his chest, looking up at the Elf. "What of it?"

"There are some who would not deem it wise,"

Gandalf gave him a wary look. "What do you mean?"

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth," Lord Elrond told him before walking back towards the entrance, leaving Gandalf with a worried look on his face.

Bryn's eyes were on the dwarves'. "I find it humorous that you speak of keeping your precious secrets hidden but then speak of those same secrets in front of the Elf you did not want to admit them to in the first place,"

It amused her to no end. Gandalf had warned her of the stubbornness of dwarves and yet she hadn't believed him. These short men had the stubbornness of a dozen Ulfric Stormcloaks and yet didn't have the presence of mind to think beyond it. It was as if they were stuck in their own mind. Their stubbornness made then stagnant.

"Now is not the time for this," Gandalf spoke to them, looking to each of them. "You must leave Rivendell and be on your way before daybreak. I have no doubt that this council has been convened to stop the company from reaching the Lonely Mountain,"

"And you spoke of the hospitality of Elves," Thorin snorted.

"Giving us dinner and a place to sleep was not hospitable?" Bryn challenged the dwarf. "I know people in my land that would not even do that,"

"It is time to go," Gandalf told them, ushering them back towards the city. "Make your way into the mountains and wait for me there. I will return as soon as I can,"