Telling the story, Elrond couldn't help smiling as he remembered those days with Durin.
"Honestly... it was one of the hardest moments of my life. Durin was skilled in battle, he sang well, and he was a good speaker too... But when it came to poetry, he was a complete disaster."
Back in the past, Elrond, sitting in his study, took a deep breath and let it out. He looked at Durin, who sat across from him waiting for his help, and spoke.
"All right... Now recite what you have in mind."
Durin nodded and cleared his throat, getting ready.
"AHEM! AHEM! Ma! Ma! Mi! So! De!"
Then he took the flask hanging at his belt, opened the cap, and drank a few swallows.
Glug!
Glug!
"Ahh... That's better..."
Elrond silently watched his friend's long preparations, rubbed his eyes, and spoke patiently.
"Can you start now?"
Durin raised a hand gravely, signaling him to stop.
"Please don't distract me, Elrond! I'm preparing here."
Elrond kept looking at Durin in silence. At last the dwarf seemed to decide he had finished his final preparations. He straightened his posture and began to recite his poem.
"Oh, ram-meat beauty!"
Hearing this first line, Elrond nearly choked on his tea.
"Ahem! Ahem! Ahem!"
Durin went on without noticing his friend's reaction.
"Ever since I saw you, I sweat and I'm all jittery! I want to take you and stuff you in my beard and hide you there! Your smell is like roast meat, and your taste is aged beer! Your voice is like the rumbling in the caves. I want to write your name on my chest hair! I'll-!?"
Elrond couldn't stand any more and raised his hand.
"Stop! Stop! Cut it out! That's not a poem!"
Durin looked at Elrond with deep suspicion.
"Really? I thought it wasn't bad."
Elrond was lost for words for a moment. His eyebrow twitched violently as he fixed his eyes on Durin and spoke in an utterly serious voice.
"That was not a poem! That was a massacre! An insult to poetry!"
Durin gave his friend a strange look.
"Are you sure?"
Elrond nodded, got up from his seat, and headed quickly for his bookshelves. While rummaging through several parchments, he muttered to himself.
"Where is it... Where is it... Ah! There!"
At last he found the old parchment he was looking for. Holding it, he went back to Durin, who was watching him with curiosity. As he handed him the parchment, he spoke calmly.
"Here, a dwarven poem I found during my travels."
Durin first looked at Elrond with suspicion, then turned his eyes to the parchment. He reached out, took it, carefully unrolled it, and started reading.
"Hmm... Let's see what it says here..."
He kept reading, moving his eyes along the lines.
"Ah, my beautiful jewel. Since the day I saw you, my heart has been fluttering and I'm warm all through. In the time without you, my breath grows short. Whenever I see you, my heart pounds like a hammer on an anvil, and my world becomes beautiful... When I see you, even the sweetest beer isn't enough... Your eyes are like sapphires, your hair shines like gold... Your voice follows me through the mines, yet it's just as far away..."
Durin stopped reading with a strange look on his face. After staring at the parchment for a few seconds, he didn't know what to say.
"...Wow... The guy's got it bad..."
Then he raised his head and looked at Elrond suspiciously.
"Where do you know the dwarven language from?"
Elrond shrugged.
"I learned it by studying."
Durin narrowed his eyes and stayed silent for a while. Elrond sighed deeply and began to speak.
"When you recite a poem, you have to bring beautiful things to the listener's mind. Especially if it's a love poem you've written!"
Durin looked at Elrond with a relaxed posture and answered calmly.
"That's what I do! Good-smelling roast, well-cooked ram meat, beer... For a dwarf, those are the most beautiful things in the world."
Elrond was silent for a moment at what the dwarf said, then answered.
"For men, maybe, but when it comes to women, things change! And for Eru's sake! What woman wants to see your chest hair and have her name written on it, Durin!? Be reasonable!"
Durin didn't look convinced at all.
"I'm perfectly reasonable. You're the one who doesn't understand dwarven taste."
Elrond was speechless for a moment. After staring at the dwarf in silence for a few seconds, he sighed deeply, rubbed his eyes, and spoke with a pained expression.
"...Apparently we have a long road ahead."
Then he motioned for Durin, who was watching him, to sit. The dwarf did as he was told and settled into the chair across from him. Elrond went back behind his desk and began to speak calmly.
"Listen, Durin. There are big differences between a man and a woman. Especially when it comes to taste. Men are simple, and we like simple things. We like whatever is useful to us or makes us happy. Just like you like eating meat and swinging an axe. But women... That's a completely different matter. They are complicated beings."
Durin looked at Elrond suspiciously.
"What are you getting at?"
Elrond sighed calmly and answered his question with another.
"What's your favorite color?"
Though surprised by the unexpected question, Durin didn't hesitate to answer.
"Red."
Elrond nodded and asked again.
"And would you pick a different color tomorrow, or next week?"
Durin shook his head firmly.
"Never. I won't betray red."
Elrond chuckled at this playful reply, then went on with his explanation.
"Women, though, can change their tastes all of a sudden. For instance, today they say they like red, tomorrow green, the day after blue."
Durin didn't know what to say for a moment. Elrond kept going.
"That's just one example. What I mean is, they are hard to understand..."
Durin narrowed his eyes in suspicion and looked at Elrond.
"Why are you so experienced about women?"
Elrond shrugged.
"I made it a subject of research out of curiosity."
Durin knew Elrond's habit of researching things even outside of war and healing, and he nodded. Then he asked with curiosity.
"So, what was the result?"
Elrond sighed in helplessness.
"...I gave up the research. The subject was beyond me, and it nearly drove me out of my mind."
As Durin raised his eyebrows, Elrond spoke again.
"Forget all that. What I mean is, you have to bring beautiful things to a woman's mind, but you have to do it by speaking in her language. For instance, instead of 'ram-meat beauty,' it would be nicer to say something like 'my diamond light' or 'the hearth that warms me.' If you say ram-meat, she'll probably think you're making fun of her or that you mean she's fat..."
After a brief pause, he added gravely.
"And believe me, it's better if she thinks you're making fun of her. Never, ever say a single thing that hints at a woman's weight."
Durin seemed genuinely curious about this.
"Why?"
Elrond sighed.
"Women can be overly fixated on their beauty..."
Then he added in a joking tone.
"Enough to commit murder..."
Durin blinked silently for a few seconds.
"...You're joking, right?"
Elrond nodded.
"Yes, they won't commit murder. I'm joking about that..."
After thinking for a while, he held his chin and frowned.
"...On second thought... You should still be on guard. I once saw a human couple fighting. The angry man had said something to the woman about her weight. The woman picked up a branch from the roadside, hit the man on the head, and made him fall to his knees. Then she pushed his head into a barrel full of water and tried to drown him."
Hearing this warning, Durin was speechless for a moment. His eyes had widened slightly and the expression on his face had changed completely. Elrond kept going without paying much attention to his reaction.
"Still, if you don't want to take a slap, a punch, or a headbutt in public, you'd do well to listen to what I'm saying."
Durin listened carefully to Elrond's warnings, his face darkening and a cold sweat starting to run down his forehead. Honestly, having something like that happen to him in public would be a thousand times worse than dying. Especially as a dwarf prince, he didn't want to end up in such a situation.
When Elrond saw that Durin had sunk into thought, he turned toward the door and called out.
"Guards!"
One of the guards waiting outside the door opened it at once, came in, and stood at attention. Elrond spoke calmly.
"Please tell the servants to bring us something to snack on. Make it something with meat for Prince Durin."
The elf guard nodded and left the room. Elrond turned back to Durin and spoke.
"All right. We're going to have a long day, Durin."
Durin shrugged.
"Doesn't matter to me. As long as you help me get close to that woman. If I have to, I'll spend a few days with you."
Elrond answered with a faint smile that showed he didn't much approve of the idea.
"Unfortunately, between my work in Rivendell and the war, I can't spare the time for that, and I can't breathe the same air as a dwarf who hasn't washed in days, either."
Durin looked at him with disdain.
"Says the noble who smells like a girl! Quit trading barbs and let's get to work. The last supply caravan leaves in twenty days! We don't have much time!"
Elrond chuckled calmly and began to speak. This time Durin listened carefully without interrupting.
"All right, you dwarves have a culture built on smithing, mining, and jewels. I think you can make a beautiful poem out of those! But you have to compose that poem yourself. First, you need to watch out for the following..."
The words Elrond had spoken to Durin in the past echoed in his mind again. The present Elrond smiled bitterly after what he remembered and fell silent.
A brief silence settled over the table. Elrond sighed deeply and spoke calmly.
"I think that's enough for tonight. Everyone is about to finish their meal anyway, so let's focus on our own food..."
After looking at the expression on Elrond's face, the others at the table nodded. Thorin still had trouble believing that his ancestor and the elf lord before him had built such a friendship. Dwalin was feeling something similar. Fili, on the other hand, was enjoying hearing the adventures of his ancestor Durin the Fourth from someone who had witnessed them in person. And Kili finally decided to ask the question that had been circling in his mind for a while.
"So, then... What are we supposed to call you? Great-Uncle? Or Lord Elrond? No, wait, I've got a better question! What does that make your children to us?!"
Elrond didn't know what to say for a moment. He blinked silently and looked at Kili. Arwen, beside him, was a little taken aback by the question too. Because whether between dwarves or elves, when it came to a brotherhood sworn by oath like this, the bond between them went far beyond ordinary friendship and was regarded as almost a kinship of blood.
Celebrían, for her part, was watching what was happening with quiet amusement.
When Thorin, Dwalin, and Fili heard the question, they flinched in shock. Dwalin wanted to deny it at first, but didn't know what to say. Fili chose to stay silent. The one facing the greatest dilemma was Thorin. His face looked quite unhappy. His brows were knitted and his mouth was shut tight, but his jaw kept working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth in irritation.
Seeing Thorin like this, Igris nudged him with his elbow, a look on his face that showed he was enjoying himself.
"Ah~ Don't frown, it'll leave wrinkles. Hahahahah!"
Thorin gave Igris such a look that it seemed he wanted to strangle him. Balin, however, answered the situation with a sweet laugh and stroked his white beard.
"Hohohoho! This is quite unexpected, but thinking of the generations since Durin the Fourth, it seems Lady Arwen is a candidate to be our great-aunt."
At these words, Arwen's eyebrow twitched in spite of herself. Igris was caught unprepared by this answer. He quickly covered his mouth so he wouldn't laugh.
"Pft!"
When Arwen heard the sound, she turned to Igris with a cold expression. Igris tried to act as if he had food in his mouth and was covering it out of table manners. But his faintly trembling shoulders made it plain that he was barely holding back his laughter.
Arwen's eyes narrowed even more. Elrond sighed deeply and spoke.
"That's up to you. Honestly, I don't want to get into this argument."
Kili nodded thoughtfully. The others at the table slowly began to focus on their food again. Igris pulled himself together and turned back to the meal in front of him. He had heard a truly interesting story tonight, but something still felt missing.
'...Ah, man, I'd have preferred to hear this by the fireplace or around a campfire, not at the dinner table. It would have been much more enjoyable...'
After the conversation, everyone began to drift back to their own business. Thorin went on studying the journal left by their ancestors with Kili throughout the meal. Dwalin, after a while, calmly returned to his own table. Later Kili got absorbed in a chat with Arwen, while Balin stayed beside Elrond and started a deep conversation with him. Honestly, the old dwarf seemed to be enjoying it quite a lot.
Igris went over to Vesemir and began talking to him.
"Do you like the food?"
Vesemir lifted a hand slightly and waved it.
"So-so. Your cooking isn't bad. Why did you come over?"
Igris answered with a shrug.
"I came to chat. I'm curious, what was the hardest contract you ever took?"
Vesemir sank into thought for a moment. After turning his eyes briefly to the table in front of him, he spoke.
"Ah... I once took a contract where a sorcerer was controlling specters. Of course, back then I thought it was a simple ghost contract..."
The evening was going on without any trouble...