Chapter 60: The Elven Swords

The trolls' cave was nearby, and with the Palantír's precise guidance, Kael led the company directly to its entrance. The cave, predictably, reeked of stale death and filth. As everyone entered, they discovered a vast hoard of gold coins and other treasures in the deepest part of the cavern. Kael, however, ignored the glittering piles. His objective was clear: the Elven swords. He quickly found them, tucked away in a dusty, cobwebbed corner: three swords, two long swords and one shorter, dagger-like weapon. The two long swords rested in exquisite scabbards adorned with large, polished gems on their hilts. The short sword was sheathed in simple leather. They were all covered in layers of dust, yet there was no trace of rust on their swords. Even the leather sheath of the short sword, which should have long since perished, looked as good as new, untouched by the ravages of time. "Is this Elven magic?" Kael murmured in awe. "Kael, have you found something good again?" Gandalf's voice boomed. Noticing Kael's focused attention, he strode over, followed closely by the others. Kael smiled, holding up the three swords. "I've found three swords. They seem quite extraordinary." "May I see them?" Gandalf asked, his curiosity piqued. Kael handed him one of the long swords. Gandalf drew it slowly. The swords, even in the dim cavern light, gleamed with a cold, almost blinding brilliance. "The scabbard is ivory, exquisitely carved," Gandalf commented, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns. "Elven craftsmanship, no doubt." His gaze sharpened as he found a mysterious inscription on the swords. "Glamdring," he deciphered, his voice filled with reverence. "This is Sindarin, meaning 'Foe-hammer.' It is indeed an Elven swords." Gandalf reluctantly set it down, a clear fondness in his eyes. He then picked up the other long sword. This one was slender and subtly curved, its edge honed to a razor sharpness. It bore the same elegant Sindarin script: "Orcrist," Gandalf read, "meaning 'Goblin-cleaver.' And the hilt... it has the aura of a dragon. Is this made from a dragon's tooth?" A ripple of surprise went through the company. Dragons were creatures of immense power, rarely seen, let alone defeated. For an Elven sword to possess a dragon-tooth hilt meant a mighty beast had once fallen to Elven might. The revelation was particularly relevant, given the company's own quest to face a dragon. Finally, Gandalf examined the short sword. It held no inscriptions, so he could glean no specific history from it, but he confirmed it, too, was of Elven make. Kael noticed Gandalf's lingering gaze on the Foe-hammer. He smiled inwardly, sensing the sword's destiny. "Gandalf," he said, extending the weapon. "You are in need of a good swords. This Foe-hammer is yours." Gandalf's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine surprise and pleasure crossing his face. He accepted the sword, his grip firm. "I owe you one, Kael," he said, his voice solemn. Kael simply shook his head. Their shared battles against the trolls had forged a deeper bond between them. The gift was offered without expectation, simply the right thing to do. He then turned to Bilbo, offering him the short sword with a smile. "This sword suits you best. It's yours now." Bilbo waved his hands, looking overwhelmed by the dwarves' envious stares. "Kael, you already gave me a dagger. I don't need another sword!" Kael ignored his protest and pressed the short sword into his hand. "Take it. That dagger was merely an ordinary swords. This is an Elven-forged weapon. Take it for your own protection." Seeing Kael's insistence, Bilbo finally accepted the sword, his expression touched. "Thank you, Kael!" He solemnly hung the Elven swords alongside his old dagger on either side of his waist. Then, under the eager, expectant gazes of the dwarves, Kael put away the last sword, Orcrist. He had no intention of becoming a general dispenser of magical weapons. Gandalf and Bilbo were his true companions. As for the dwarves, their relationship was, and remained, a business transaction. He already possessed Flammifer; he did not need another sword. And while Orcrist, in the original story, found its way into Thorin's hand, Kael believed in a philosophy of "first come, first served." He had found it, so it was his. Thorin, however, watched Orcrist disappear into Kael's pack with a vague sense of loss. He felt an inexplicable pull towards the swords, sensing its destiny was entwined with his own. The dragon-tooth hilt, especially, felt like a subtle omen for their quest. But he also knew his relationship with Kael was not one of friendship. He had to negotiate. "Kael," he began, "are you willing to trade Orcrist?" "Oh?" Kael turned, a knowing glint in his eye. "What do you propose?" He already had Flammifer. He didn't need Orcrist. If Thorin's offer was compelling, he wouldn't mind letting the sword return to its fated owner. Thorin considered for a moment. "I will offer you one percent of the Lonely Mountain treasure." Kael shook his head. "I have no need for treasure. According to our agreement, I already own one-tenth of the Lonely Mountain's gold, plus the wealth from the Barrow-downs and the troll caves. One percent more is meaningless." "Then what do you want?" Thorin asked, his brow furrowed, clearly thinking Kael found his offer insufficient. Kael thought for a moment, then articulated his desire. "After you reclaim the Lonely Mountain, I wish for you to build a castle for me, right on Weathertop, centered around Amon Sûl. I will provide the blueprints; you will oversee its construction." He had renamed Amon Sûl to Hogwarts; he wanted its physical form to live up to that name. The dwarves were peerless builders; many of Middle-earth's most magnificent structures were their creations. If he was to bring Hogwarts Castle into this world, they were the obvious choice. Thorin's frown deepened. This was no small request; it was an immense undertaking, a monumental demand. A castle of such grandeur, built around Amon Sûl, would require an enormous investment of labor and resources. But after a long, internal struggle, Thorin gritted his teeth and agreed. Once he reclaimed the Lonely Mountain and became King Under the Mountain, the resources to build such a fortress would be well within his grasp. And so, Orcrist returned to Thorin Oakenshield's hands, just as fate intended. The three legendary Elven swords found their owners: Glamdring with Gandalf, Sting with Bilbo, and Orcrist with Thorin. The remaining treasure in the cave was then divided equally among the sixteen members of the company. (End of Chapter) *** [Check Out My Patreon For More Chapters On All Of My Fanfics!!] [www. 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