Glorfindel could understand why the Dwarf would not be at peace anytime soon.  He had felt that way a couple of times in his exceptional long life...being one of the Noldor Elves from the First Age.  Thus, he did not argue with the Dwarf, but instead nodded to three of his company to go back and see to the dead men lost to the Orc raid.  He knew already other sentinels were heading there to explore what had happened, but three more to help would not hurt.  It would at least help the Dwarf be more at ease if he knew his companions were being seen to after the wicked ambush.<br/><br/>The sorrow of the Half-elven maiden did nothing to sooth the Elf-lord.  It was clear in her expression that she had already experienced similar grief other than what she had come upon this evil morning.  Glorfindel frowned in deep thought.  He did not like the idea of Orcs being so close to Rivendell.  It was not like them to be so bold, but something was driving them to do things out of the ordinary.  For this, he almost wished to go forth and discover for himself what was going on.  Yet, there was one in Rivendell who would be better suited to such a task.  It was said Arthalion had returned to the valley after being gone for seven years while wandering Eriador in search of answers...ever vigilant against the Shadow.  The Elf-lord applauded such vigilance, but there was a strange grimness to the Dunedain Steward which worried him.  There was a dream which lay upon Arthalion - one which Glorfindel had briefly perceived, but did not agree with.<br/><br/>Still, these people had need of someone to help them, and Arthalion would have need of such people.  Even if he did not agree with the Steward's dream - he would not hinder him.  He turned to the Half-elven maiden now riding by his side, but his voice was loud enough to carry to the wounded mumbling Dwarf merchant.<br/><br/>"There is one in Rivendell who has recently returned.  It may be that he can be of some aid to you in your time of need; for he has no love for the Shadow.  Ever he fights against those who are the Shadow's servants, and he has need of those who can be of aid to him in his endeavors.  When you are healed; I would suggest you seek him out in the Hall of Fire...for he is likely there.  Certainly, he will at least listen to what you have to say," Glorfindel told the two new arrivals even as they arrived at the Last Homely House.  There he dismounted, and two of his company carried the wounded Dwarf as swift as possible inside.  Word had already been sent ahead to Lord Elrond.  To the Half-elven maiden; Glorfindel continued.  "You should refresh yourself.  The Hall of Fire is to the left in the main hall.  There food and refreshment will be waiting for you as guests to Lord Elrond.  Your friend here will join you as soon as Lord Elrond is finished with him."<br/><br/>It was not long before Thofred found himself laid on a bed of such softness as had no description, and there peering down over him was tall Half-elven male robed in deep silver and blue with a laurel crown upon his brow.  In his eyes was the agelessness of his people; though within was written the many things he had witnessed in his long life.  With deft fingers; the mightiest of the Half-elves examined the wound after another Elf in attendance helped the Dwarf out of his armor.<br/><br/>"You are fortunate," Elrond told the Dwarf with grim nod.  "The wound is not poisoned as some Orcs have done to their blades, and your wound will heal soon."  Then with his warm hands over the open wound...Elrond muttered a phrase in the Quenya tongue.  Some few minutes passed before the wound was sealed, and strength returned to the Dwarf merchant slowly.  "You will not regain your full capacity for a day or two, but you will feel no more pain, and your wound shall trouble you no further.  With that, he nodded politely to his patient, and left the room with only another Elf to remain in attendance should the Dwarf need anything.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">*****</span></div><br/><br/>"Nay, we do not get many of your kin here, Isengar.  Even so, you are most welcome here in Imladris.  There will be food, drink, and song in plenty in the Hall of Fire...even for a Hobbit," Tathariel laughed lightly as she led the Hobbit to the Last Homely House.  As they made there way there; she noticed Lord Glorfindel leading a small group...one of which was on a litter...a Dwarf by the looks of him.  She frowned openly at the display of trouble.  "It would seem you have come at troubled times, Isengar Took.  Lord Glorfindel rarely goes out to help others anymore unless something is truly amiss.  Though, fear not, we are quite safe here.  Lord Elrond would never let anything happen to those in his valley.  Still, I wonder what could have happened."<br/><br/>Her voice was no longer as bright, but held a tinge of sadness from seeing trouble entering her home.  It was clear she was not use to seeing such problems - still being young for her people.<br/><br/>"Well, there is nothing for it," she finally said after a few moments of silence while leading the Hobbit inside.  There, to the left lay the double silvery doors leading to the Hall of Fire, but she stopped as she noticed the Half-elven woman being left by Lord Glorfindel.  She did not appear to be from Rivendell, and wondered if she had been coming to the valley when the Dwarf had been hurt.  "Perhaps we should invite her to breakfast as well. It looks as if she has had a long journey," Tathariel suggested with a nod to the new arrival.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">*****</span></div><br/><br/>Gallind noted the unhappiness of the woman he now had before him, and he couldn't say he wasn't surprised by her reaction.  After all, she had been brought against her will to Rivendell - a place she likely avoided for the most part whe possible.  Yet, her mention of the Steward of Arnor piqued Gallind's interest instantly; as did her vow to serve the line of Arthedain.  Intrigued by her words; Gallind began to think back to his brief conversation with his friend, Arthalion before the woman he now faced had arrived with the rest.  Even then he had told Arthalion that something was coming...a change he could not say.<br/><br/>"It is true the Steward has just recently returned to Rivendell, and is even now in the Hall of Fire having breakfast.  He has been on a journey these past seven years looking into the darkness which has roamed over all of Eriador...even Rhudaur...for all things once of Arnor are his concern," Gallind explained to the woman before him.  He studied her for several more heartbeats, and then bowed slightly to her - though not in a mocking fashion.  "It will be as you have said.  Your things will be returned to you, and something more appropriate than the silk gown which irritates you so.  Then, I will personally take you to Arthalion, and you shall talk with him of what is in your heart.  Already there are others who have sought him out this day, and more will do so before the day ends."<br/><br/>That said, Gallind left the woman and signaled the guard to give her back her items.  "Make sure she has clothing befitting one who is to travel in dangerous times...more suited to her needs," he instructed, and then waited outside for her.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">*****</span></div><br/><br/>It was clear from the beginning that Arkala had been looking into the deeds of the Shadow in Eriador; though it made him wonder how they had both been on the same journey for the same amount of time, and yet missed each other all seven years.  The sheer possibility behind such was staggering, but Arthalion was curious to hear her side of things as she spoke of the growing darkness.  As with Gallind, it was clear she had sensed there being a purpose for the arrival of those coming now to Rivendell...including herself.  It was also clear to him that he intrigued her as much as he was intrigued by her...a combination he wondered about, but to which was overtaken by her own question of his wanderings.<br/><br/>"I have been out as most Rangers are to keep watch over the land, but my seven years has been more specifically spent on the state of things in ruined Arnor and the lands about.  I trust not the darkness I have seen growing of late, and my heart tells me the Shadow is already on the move...though Sauron is not yet ready to put forth his might.  I do not like the feeling this has; for there are signs of a prelude to war...a war I do not believe we are ready for.  I am concerned about the defenses of Rohan and Gondor, not to mention those of other races such as Lothlorien, Erebor, and Dale.  The Enemy is preparing...quietly, but he is doing so all the same.  At last, I have returned here to rest for a bit, to think, and to celebrate my 39th day of birth.  Yet, this news of two being wounded so close to Rivendell makes me even more concerned.  For it means someone is growing bolder to make Orcs attack those so close," Arthalion explained gravely, and his breakfast was abandoned as he leaned back to gaze steadily at Arkala.<br/><br/>"It may be as you say...a purpose for those coming here...including yourself.  Perhaps we should speak of such a purpose; for I have some idea of why you all have come...though I feel I must think on the matter more, and perhaps take counsel with Lord Elrond first.  Yet, there are events in motion I do not think should be ignored, and you - Arkala - may be involved; for I sense you are not one to sit by and simply watch while the Shadow returns."<br/><br/>Was it really happening?  Had these people come to Rivendell at this hour just to see him?  Were they even now arriving for the purpose which he held in his heart; though they knew it not?  What power was now at work to summon those who were now gathering in Rivendell from far away places?  He was curious, and some part of him sent up a silent prayer to Varda:  Queen of the Stars, and the one member of the Valar he loved most of all.  Had SHE perhaps answered the secret desires in his heart...that which could not be hidden from HER?  The idea of such made him actually smile just a bit, and he gazed at Arkala with almost an understanding smile now.  If he was right, events were indeed set in motion he could not and would not ignore.  He wondered what Lords Elrond and Glorfindel would say - for neither of them would be accepting of this desire to restore Arnor.  For the prophecy given by Glorfindel when the Witch-King had been driven out clearly said Arnor would not rise again while Sauron endured.<br/><br/>Yet, the Wise had been wrong before.<br/><br/>The question became...were they wrong this time, or was it a fools mission...only a dream he had?