Song and Dance in the Hall of Fire

[Glorfindel]

OOC: Open to whoever and date and such is up to whoever joins.

IC: There was nothing quite like a relaxing evening in the Halls of Fire after a day of sparring and training, as well as what little paperwork he had to do. It was nowhere the amount of his Lord’s and of Erestor’s but even he had some that needed to be done. Of course, he did tend to put it off as much of possible. Though now that he thought of it, Glorfindel was sure that there were quite a few pretty elleths that would gladly do his paperwork for him. He shook his head amusedly. There had been no one that had caught his eye yet and there were times when he thought that perhaps there was no one for him. Not that he was upset about that thought but it still would be nice to find someone.

He rolled his shoulders as he forced those thoughts away from him as he entered the Hall. It was not too busy nor was it empty. He scanned the Hall for no one in particular though he absently noted that Lord Elrond was missing this night. He also did not see Lady Arwen or the twins. He brightened when someone handed him some warm mulled wine, glad for it and the warmth it gave him. He nodded his thanks and settled against a wall not far from the fire. The minstrel saw him and gave him a nod, before they started to play a song from Doriath. The choice of song made him smirk as the thought of Lord Celeborn missing it flitted across his mind, before he willed it away and relaxed, enjoying the music, the words and tune bringing the audience to a hunt under the moonlight before Arnor arose after the Two Trees were destroyed.

[Bilbo Baggins]

{3019? I guess it could be any time after the Fellowship came through}

Bilbo Baggins was feeling awful; plain and simple. You have a problem you won’t face. The Hobbit sighed. How long now had that rung true?

“I found something...my courage”

What if he’d told Gandalf then...

Would it spare Frodo now? Bilbo sighed again. Frodo was now tasked with his own Quest, and had left Rivendell to face it, much as Bilbo had done once, long ago. But this was not a reclaimed kingdom.

Catching back up with Gloin (and meeting his son so like him) had been bitter sweet, as he now knew the full extent of trouble Bilbo's Secret caused. Of course he’d come clean years earlier, before leaving them, but it was just a supposed harmless bit of magic then.

Not the Destruction of the World!

Though Gloin was good enough not to accuse Bilbo.

Blind Fool! If you had thrown it away...

The Dark Forces could have just have easily found it, there was no guarantee the world would be better. But a part of Bilbo selfishly didn't care for the whole world if his nephew didn't have to carry this burden. Just further naive, for Frodo would be doomed with all the Shire in that event.

Gazing out upon the spectacular falls, Bilbo sighed. He'd come here, after his 111th birthday, to try to forget himself and find some peace the Shire had ceased providing, and while he'd found it, these concerns came back in with the now Fellowship that had set out, as he and his long ago Company had done, though again to a less severe extent.

Beyond these true concerns, Bilbo knew what else was bothering him. His moment of weakness in front of Frodo when he...no, he would never have attacked his boy for the Ring! Never! He'd been outfitting him with Mithril and other such things he would need, after all. Things so like Bilbo had needed for his Quest.

As if he needed to feel his old age, he'd felt like a dotting old Hobbit grandfather who spouted about useless things, even showing off Sting.

That at least would have been a moment better than the other to have come.

Bilbo's head bowed with the weight of his guilt again, and he turned, trudging away from the pools and back towards the inner sanctums of Elrond's Halls again. "Though I hardly deserved them...", he muttered. Elrond was beyond kind to let him stay.

Bilbo wasn't sure how his steps took him to Hall of Fire, but the music caught his attention first, and he paused to listen to it, entering the Hall without quite knowing it as he did so. He blinked, feeling caught out and small (and not just for physical height) and gave a smile to the Elves in the room, "Sorry, I...didn't mean to interrupt, please, go on...it's...lovely". He felt he could give some words of guessing as to the subject matter, but then refrained in case he was wrong and just sounded like a foolish Halfling.

Still looking sort of pensive, Bilbo took a seat in a corner of the room.

[Idhrenion]

“You should not have pouted so, Fairone.” He teased his own horse. She was in the stall across from the grey stallion he was stabling.

Fairone snoted, and stamped her foot.

Ren ignore her as he removed the saddle, the blanket, and grabbed the brush.

Someone else entered the stable at the same time. Who could be out this late? He wondered, peering around the corner. A woman, an Elleth to be exact, was leading her horse to one of the empty stalls. She was wearing traveling clothes, and her cloak looked worn. She glanced in his direction, and he quickly turned away, but not before he saw the curiosity in her eyes.

He turned back to his stallion, and started brushing. He could hear the woman speaking a strange language to her own horse, and he listened with interest. It wasn’t Elvish, which was curious, as the woman was clearly Elven herself.

They finished about the same time. He stopped to check on Fairone. She was still pouting. The woman came up, and started to talk in the plain tongue, “I think she may be trying to tell you something.”

Ren looked at her, “How do you know?”

“My, uh, family raises horses. They’re quite the experts.” She replied, stroking the nose of Fairone. Something within Ren stirred when she did. He didn’t like anyone touching what belonged to him.

“And, just what is it that she is trying to tell me?” Ren asked.

The woman looked at Fairone, then back at him. “She is carrying a foal.”

A few minutes later they were both in the Hall of Fire. Ren had learned that her name was Ginger, but that was about it. Something was off about her, and he couldn’t place his finger on it. He had come earlier than Glorfindel, and he watched him walk in. The lyre player changed songs, and *he handed Glorfindel a drink.

Some time passed, and a Hobbit came into the hall. “Please… go on… it’s lovely…” He said. His hair was grey, and he was clearly much older than he appeared. But, then again, Ren didn’t know much about hobbits and how old they might live to be. He had only heard tales about their peaceful life, and usually those who lived peacefully had no reason to leave their own homes. This one, however, had chosen to do so, and it was a curiosity! At least to Ren.

If Ren had known anything about Hobbits, he would have known that there was a wild strain that took off on adventures often...

[ooc: Ginger makes an appearance, it's completely up to you guys if you want her fully in on this. She would be more open towards Bilbo, but Ren relates more to Glorfindel... if that makes sense. So, both of you have something to respond to, I guess. If that is route you want to go.

FYI: This post was 10 times longer than what I have just posted. It's missing the top two paragraphs...lol]

[Glorfindel]

OOC: I'm fine either way, Hades. Sorry about the shortness of this post.

IC: Glorfindel smiled at Idhrenion as the other Elf brought him some mulled wine. ”My thanks, mellon.” He did not know the younger and slightly shorter Elf very well but he viewed very few as not being his friend so even if they did not know each other, until Idhrenion proved otherwise, Glorfindel would call him friend. ”How are you enjoying yourself, this fine evening?” He had of course noticed the pretty elleth that Idhrenion had been standing nearby but they didn’t necessarily seem that close, almost as though they had just met.

His smile grew but also softened at seeing the older Hobbit, Bilbo, enter and think he had interrupted the song. ”I would not worry, Master Baggins. I believe they were finished with that particular song.” He gave the Hobbit a reassuring smile. He was a bit more aware of what Bilbo’s history was because of his friendship Lord Elrond and Mithrandir, though admittedly he got more out of the Half-Elf than the Istari. His lips quirked a little in serene amusement at the thought of how tight-lipped Mithrandir could be, even tighter lipped than some of his fellow Elf-lords. He was pretty sure it was more Mithrandir’s personality rather than him being Maia that made him that way.

[Bilbo Baggins]

Bilbo was clueless as to the perceptiveness with which Idhrenion scrutinized him as he entered, but even had he known, it wouldn't have surprised him. Elves were known for that. Known for many powers that seemed mystical to the other Races of Middle Earth, and especially Hobbits, who got out so little and distrusted so much.

As he had once naively commented to Elrond, when the Lord of this House, and his accepting nature, lowered a younger Hobbit's guard and he didn't watch his tongue! Thankfully, what Bilbo had heard on Elrond's graciousness also proved true.

The Hobbit gave a smile to those around him, but was not about to become insulted if they carried on with their own business and didn't acknowledge him. It was their right, as Elves, and Hobbits were masters of being unobtrusive, as Gandalf had once given his Company in testimonial.

Of course, such also went against the hospitality spoken of within these Halls, and which Bilbo had once seen himself years ago. One of them graciously excused his intrusion, stating the musicians were no doubt finished with the particular piece they had been giving. As he nodded his gratitude, and took a seat, Bilbo studied all three of the Elves also. Discreetly of course. Or as discreetly as one could when they no doubt noticed your every move.

The one to have spoken to him had a smile on his face that was, in the way of Elves, hard to read, but...if Bilbo had to guess (dangerous business!), he would say it was amusement of a sort that seemed to have more of an idea on who he was than just having heard his name. He obviously knew that, as he greeted Bilbo by his name.

If he did know him by reputation alone, perhaps, it was little surprise. Bilbo knew this Elf was at the very least alive (and had been for centuries) when he last passed through, whether he had been in Rivendell at the time or not. Bilbo didn't recall having run into him...but then, with their exponentially larger lifespans, for all he knew the many years between his two visits felt more like a month than the years it had been to the Elf.

The other two he was sure he hadn't met, though there was something decidedly Un-Elvish about the woman. For one...it was more obvious than it at times could be that her gender was female. She almost...came off as more of a simple female of Men than an Elf. None of this an insult. As the players changed songs, one of them glanced his way, as if to ask if the choice was acceptable, perhaps. Bilbo nodded to him that it was.

"My kin are known for faster paced tunes", he shared with the three other companions with him, as well as the musicians if they cared to hear him, with a soft smile as he recalled the music from his and Frodo's own birthday celebration not too far back, which he'd let sooth his soul for while he could, "But I'm afraid my own mood matches this more solemn pace". He said no more than this to not ruin the mood completely. No doubt those here were trying to avoid thought of the destruction that hung over them.