-General-
September 22nd of the year 2999 of the Third Age would be Bilbo Baggins' birthday. Aldril and his family would depart in late June; the journey would be slow, as they would take the safest path. While Aldril and Tauriel could cross the Misty Mountains without difficulty—avoiding or, if necessary, eliminating the unwary goblins that dared to attack them—their children were another story. They were too small to follow them on that route, and neither of the two would be so foolish as to put them in danger; furthermore, Tauriel was with child, and although it did not impede her skill, Aldril preferred not to place any further burden upon his beloved.
It was true that Aldril ranked among the mighty of Middle-earth, a being fearsome even to that which dwells in the depths of darkness, but he preferred caution. Lest, by the twists of fate, one of his children end up hurt... or worse, that something irreparable occur just to teach him a bitter lesson in humility.
"In early August we will arrive at Moria," Aldril told Tauriel. "We will stay with the Dwarves a week and then depart for the Shire. With Shadow Star and his foals, we will arrive more than on time."
This was another detail worth mentioning.
Do you remember the small wild foals of Shadow Star and Silivren? Well, of the four offspring of the noble horse, the little ones claimed two as their own. Do not be deceived by their tender age: at five years old they were already skilled riders, mounting their horses—or foals, in their case—with surprising natural ease.
How was this possible?
The answer lay in their lineage, as peculiar as it was powerful. Their mother was an Elf blessed by Oromë, making her stronger among her kin; their father carried Númenórean blood, and not of just any stock, but of royal line. Added to that was the draconic heritage, which granted the children a strength and growth out of the ordinary, and the crowning jewel... their father bore the blessing of the greatest of the Valier: Varda, the Lady of the Stars.
They were not just any children.
"Is everything ready, my loves?" asked Thalwen softly.
At first, she had staunchly opposed the children leaving her kingdom, but upon learning that Aldril would take the route through Moria she was set at ease, even more so upon finding out that a dozen Dwarves would accompany them. Dwarves she knew well, for they had been part of that past expedition; among them were even two sons of Thorin Oakenshield's nephews.
"All ready, Grandma," answered Elenion, waving his small hands in farewell.
Elentárië, on the contrary, had not yet mounted her foal. Thranduil held her in his arms, embracing her with evident affection.
"Grandpa, I must go now," said the little one amidst laughter.
That scene seemed ironic to those who knew the aloof nature of the King of the Forest of Rebirth. His habitual detachment and dry tone when speaking made him seem unapproachable, almost icy; but with his grandchildren, that iceberg melted. Like a spring sun, Thranduil enveloped them in warmth. To say he spoiled his three grandchildren was an understatement.
"Watch over them well, Aldril," he said finally, resting his gaze on the Half-elf, his son-in-law. His voice was dry, but charged with authority. "Although I disagree with my daughter traveling to a birthday while with child, it is a festivity of Mister Baggins... and under your care, I can let them depart without worry."
Nodding solemnly, Aldril showed a face far different from his usual playful demeanor.
"Do not doubt it, Lord Thranduil. I would sacrifice my very life to protect my family."
There were no further words between them. Although they got along well, in moments like this Thranduil's worry was understandable, and Aldril understood that his father-in-law did nothing but look out for the safety of his daughter and grandchildren.
"We depart," announced Aldril, looking at his family with a radiant smile. The predatory glint he had shown so many times remained now hidden beneath the warmth of love.
Thalwen saw them off, watching them move away. As she waved her hand, she reminded them:
"Be very careful... and give my regards to Mister Baggins."
And so, the family departed with the blessing of the rulers of the Forest of Rebirth. They galloped for a long time and, from time to time, stopped to rest, mainly for their children, who were not yet accustomed to such prolonged journeys on horseback. On their way, they met Men of Rhovanion, as well as Elves who greeted them with respect and warmth.
It was to be expected, for Aldril and his family were well known—especially the little ones, since no Elven birth had been recorded for many years. The children inherited their mother's pointed ears and the honey-colored eyes with greenish tints of both parents. His son inherited hair as dark as night, while his daughter possessed a reddish tone darker than her mother's.
Thanks to the speed of Shadow Star and his offspring, they arrived in barely three days at the foothills of the Misty Mountains, specifically at the entrance to Moria, where on the outskirts numerous Dwarves and Men entered and exited with various carts laden with different goods.
As one might imagine, once Aldril massacred the Nameless Things with Varda's help, the few survivors fled through the tunnels created since the dawn of Arda. They dared not return, fearful of being burned or incinerated. This allowed Kíli and Fíli to venture in with greater confidence; this time they learned from their mistakes and took with them larger Dwarven hosts who, over the years, eliminated the Orcs hiding like rats in the cracks of the walls.
Nowadays, Moria was a safe place. To say that a celebration worthy of being recorded in history was held was an understatement: the Dwarves invited all the Free Peoples to celebrate the recovery of their ancestral land.
For a whole month, without rest, festivities bustled in Moria. Of course, Aldril and Bilbo would not miss such a celebration, and they partied throughout the month alongside their Dwarven friends... although the poor Hobbit ended up losing his purity to a Dwarf-woman in a moment of drunkenness.
...
Aldril's arrival brought with it a monumental uproar. A great number of Dwarven children gathered to see the legendary adventurer: dragon hunter, slayer of salamanders, and executioner of Orcs, among many other titles.
News of his arrival was quickly reported to the Lords of Moria, who, with enthusiasm, emerged from their private quarters to receive their friend. Aldril was already in the great halls of the Dwarves, greeting and telling stories to the curious onlookers who approached him.
To Tauriel's great surprise, the little Dwarves behaved with nobility and politeness. However, her astonishment grew when four young Dwarves—at least to her eyes—came running out while cheerfully greeting Elenion and Elentárië.
As was to be expected, those youths—children in human eyes, but still small by Dwarven standards—were the sons of Kíli and Fíli. They had taken great affection to Aldril's children, which was not strange, for their parents had been great friends. Moreover, they had received a strict upbringing from their mothers, who instilled in them the duty to protect and care for the little Elves, convinced that in this way the relationship between both races would be even more harmonious in the future.
At first, the boys were somewhat reluctant, but they soon fell under the charm of the little Elves, who received them with joyful smiles and open arms, allowing themselves to be carried with total trust by the Dwarves.
Of course, upon seeing Tauriel, they offered a cordial bow. They were Princes of Moria and, as such, had received an education worthy of royalty; though, despite this, they remained first-rate mischief-makers, a trait inherited from their fathers, who, without the slightest decorum befitting a lord, greeted Aldril.
"You look fatter, Aldril. Did you stop eating lettuce and now only feed on Elven meat?" asked Kíli, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Of course he's eating a lot of meat. Look at poor Tauriel, victim of this cannibal," added Fíli, observing with feigned surprise the Elven princess, whose swelling belly was already visible.
Shaking his head ironically, Aldril embraced them tightly, lifting them effortlessly. Only the feet of both brothers could be seen kicking in the air as they complained, embarrassed.
"You two don't learn, pair of idiots," laughed Aldril, setting both Dwarves down. "Are you ready to go to Bilbo's party?"
"Of course we are."
"Yes, we were just waiting for you."
Another detail worth mentioning was that, despite being Lords of Moria, both Dwarves never missed Bilbo's birthday, who, like Aldril, had become their best friend. Year after year, the three were present, and this one would be no exception.
Though, perhaps, this would be the last time they would visit the Shire.
**
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