In the spacious chamber on the highest floor of Rivendell, the twins—their stomachs finally full yet their bodies still paralyzed—sat leaning against their headboards. No matter how delectable the meal had been, being spoon-fed in bed like helpless infants was humiliating enough; having their mouths wiped with a cloth by Igris and little Estel had inflicted irreparable wounds upon their pride. Still, they knew all too well that in their current predicament, they had no choice but to endure it in silence.
Elrohir had quickly adapted to this pathetic state, diving into a lighthearted conversation with Estel at his bedside. Igris, on the other hand, saw this distraction behind him as a golden opportunity and smiled slyly. Taking the Elves' supernatural hearing into account, he lowered his voice to the barest whisper and chose his words with utmost care.
"Hey, Elladan. I have an old Elven parchment written in Quenya. Could you help me read it?"
Elladan looked at Igris with curious eyes from where he lay.
"Sure."
Without hiding the mischievous grin on his face, Igris pulled an ancient parchment from his inventory. He slowly unrolled it and held it right at Elladan's eye level. Initially reading it casually, as if it were just an ordinary text, Elladan froze solid as he progressed through the words and recognized the handwriting. His face instantly darkened; a flicker of panic flashed in his eyes, quickly overtaken by untamed fury.
"Where did you find this!?"
Without losing his composure in the slightest, Igris simply tilted his head to gesture toward the wall separating Elladan's side of the room from Elrohir's, yet the words that spilled from his lips told a completely different story.
"I found it during my travels. Why? Is it important?"
Elladan looked as though he wanted to impale Igris with his gaze alone. To avoid drawing his brother Elrohir's attention, he hissed through gritted teeth.
"No, not really important."
Then, without making a single sound, merely mouthing the words, he delivered his silent threat.
'I. Will. Beat. You. Senseless. Igris! Put my parchment down!'
Igris, completely ignoring this silent death threat, maintained his feigned curiosity.
"So, what's it about?"
Elladan shot him a look that practically spat fire.
"Nothing important, just something like a shopping list."
Then, his lips moved silently once more.
'Igris! I will turn you into a pincushion! Cut it out!'
Igris didn't back down for a second; savoring this highly amusing moment, he too merely mouthed his reply.
'Tell me what's in it, and I'll return the parchment.'
Elladan was determined not to bow to this blackmail. Despite the paralytic venom coursing through his veins, he had begun to tremble with rage, his arm twitching slightly against his will. Had he been able to move at that moment, he would have lunged for Igris's throat without a second thought. His lips moved once again.
'I will kill you, you bastard! Drop my parchment!'
The elf's overly defensive attitude only fueled Igris's curiosity about the parchment even further. Narrowing his eyes, he mouthed back.
'Just tell me what this parchment is about, or I'll go have Elrohir or Arwen read it.'
Hearing this, Elladan's eyes went wide. The absolute last thing in the world he wanted was for a member of his family to read this particular scroll. As sheer panic eclipsed his fury, his lips moved frantically.
'Don't you dare! Don't even think about it! I swear I will end you!'
Now, Igris was genuinely intrigued. He hadn't expected such a violent reaction from Elladan at all; at most, he figured it contained some embarrassing, funny childhood memory.
'Alright, but I'm seriously curious now. I promise this secret goes to the grave. What is this parchment about?'
Elladan looked as though he might choke on his own breath for a second. Seeing Igris's stubborn, "I'm not leaving until I find out" glare, he finally surrendered with a heavy sigh. Just as he turned his eyes toward the door to gather his thoughts, Elrohir's voice chimed in from the side.
"What are you two doing over there? You've gone awfully quiet."
While Elladan jolted in surprise, Igris intervened with an utterly relaxed demeanor.
"Don't interrupt, Elrohir. We're having a staring contest. First one to blink loses."
Hearing this absurd excuse, Elrohir rolled his eyes in sheer exasperation.
"Childish games again, Igris? You'll have a hard time beating Elves at that."
Igris immediately fired back.
"If it's so hard, then why are you interrupting and distracting me? Butt out!"
Not wanting to drag it out, Elrohir sighed.
"Alright, alright."
As the room settled back into quiet, Igris let out a breath of relief and turned back to Elladan. Elladan, still glaring daggers at him, mouthed his words.
'If you breathe a word of this to anyone, Igris! No matter where you run, I will hunt you down!'
Igris raised his eyebrows mockingly and mouthed back.
'Now I'm even more curious.'
Elladan felt completely cornered and utterly helpless. The mere possibility of the parchment accidentally falling into the hands of a family member, especially his mother, was enough to make his stomach cramp. He reluctantly moved his lips.
'Fine... I'm telling you...'
As Igris waited eagerly, as if he had just won a grand victory, Elladan averted his gaze and mouthed.
'It's a poem I wrote for a woman I loved when I was young! Are we done? Are you happy? Now put it away before someone sees it, damn it! You're going to get me in trouble!'
Igris jolted in surprise. His eyes darted in astonishment to the old piece of paper he held, then back to Elladan's tense face. He hadn't expected his little joke to touch upon something so deeply personal. He immediately rolled the parchment back up, tied it, and hastily attempted to shove it under Elladan's clothes. Seeing this, Elladan hissed in a voice as low but as fierce as his paralyzed state would allow.
"Igris!"
When Igris paused and looked at him, Elladan frantically mouthed.
'What are you doing, you idiot! My father will find it when they clean my wounds! Put it away immediately!'
Realizing with a momentary lapse in judgment that he hadn't thought of that, Igris scratched the back of his neck. Putting on a serious expression, he mouthed a question.
'Should I destroy it?'
The moment Elladan heard this idea, he fiercely rejected it.
'No way! It was incredibly hard to write! That poem is a masterpiece! I cannot let it be destroyed!'
Faced with this dilemma, Igris shrugged helplessly and safely stored the parchment back into his own inventory. He asked the last idea that popped into his head.
'Should I give it to your beloved?'
This question caused Elladan's temper to absolutely skyrocket.
'Don't! Don't you dare!'
Unable to understand why, Igris tilted his head to the side.
'Why not?'
Fixing his gaze on the bed covers, Elladan let out a heavy, profound sigh.
'...Because she got engaged to someone else...'
Igris froze right where he stood. As the silence in the room suddenly grew heavy, he sank into his thoughts.
'I think... I just made a huge blunder.'
Scratching his neck with a distressed expression, he mouthed to the elf.
'I'm sorry... I had no idea it was such a deep issue.'
Elladan merely sighed. Back in the day, they had roughed Igris up quite a bit on the training grounds; naturally, he could understand Igris pursuing a small, harmless, and sweet revenge. He knew perfectly well that his friend had no intention of tearing open an old wound in his heart. Still, he wasn't exactly thrilled about the situation. With a warning glance, he mouthed back.
'It's fine, but never rummage through my things again. Especially the ones you can't read!'
Igris nodded sheepishly.
'Message received.'
Sensing the topic was closed, Igris slowly rose from his seat. He wanted to rest a bit and shake off the exhaustion of the day. He turned his face toward Estel, who was deep in an animated conversation with Elrohir on the other bed.
"Alright, kiddo. Sick visits should be kept short, plus your mother might be getting worried. Let's go. These two need to rest."
Estel nodded in agreement.
"Okay."
The little boy got up from his seat, bid farewell to the elven princes, and headed toward the door. Meanwhile, Igris straightened the beds and tucked Elrohir in properly. Elrohir spoke in a calm, grateful tone.
"Thanks for the food."
Igris offered a slight smile and nodded.
"Don't mention it."
As the atmosphere in the room returned to normal, Elrohir could no longer contain his curiosity.
"By the way, who were the warriors and Elves with you? I've never seen those Elves before, but they were incredibly professional."
Elladan had been wondering the exact same thing.
"Yes, their attire and their weapons were very different too. Where did you find them?"
Igris paused and scratched his neck, thinking of how to piece the story together.
"Well... I'll explain that to you later, but those Elves will be staying in Rivendell for a long time, maybe a very long time. Their comrades are suffering from mental afflictions and are awaiting healing from Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. You can learn more about them from them."
Then, turning serious, he crossed his arms over his chest.
"As for the other warriors—Bamsı and Doğan. Let's just call them men looking for a home. I've decided to build a city in the north, which is why they're with me. They want to live in the city I'm going to found."
Elrohir raised his eyebrows in astonishment.
"Ah, that is exactly something we'd expect from you."
Igris furrowed his brows, trying to decipher the underlying meaning of that sentence.
"What do you mean by that?"
Elladan chimed in from where he lay, a friendly tone in his voice.
"You are stubborn and free-spirited, Igris. There isn't a single place on this continent that fits your mindset. We always figured you'd just withdraw into the wilderness to live in seclusion... but building a city? I have to admit, I didn't see that coming."
Igris shrugged nonchalantly.
"What can I say? I like my own order. Rather than living restlessly under someone else's rules, I'd rather establish my own and live in peace."
Elrohir chuckled at this pragmatic philosophy.
"Makes sense. Do you need any help? Or perhaps some advice?"
Igris paused for a moment, reviewing the route in his mind, before diving into the main question he wanted to ask.
"What do you know about Thranduil? Is he a good king?"
While Elrohir adopted a thoughtful expression, the answer came from Elladan.
"He is a just and helpful king, but he is isolationist. He's cautious and haughty toward races other than Elves."
Elrohir nodded in agreement with his brother and added.
"Yes, he doesn't hesitate to help those in dire need, but generally, his own people are his absolute priority... he became quite withdrawn after losing his wife... or so my grandfather says."
Elladan brought the topic back to Igris's practical needs.
"If you plan to cross his lands on your way to Erebor, we can write a letter for you and ask our grandmother to do the same. That way, you can pass through the territory without any trouble."
Highly pleased that his plans were running like clockwork, Igris nodded.
"I was actually thinking of acquiring exactly that kind of document. But tell me, do you think he would provide us with support against the Orcs once the dragon is dead? Would he send troops?"
Elrohir didn't seem too optimistic about this scenario and pursed his lips.
"I'm not so sure... After all, his kingdom comes first for him. But if you can demonstrate the potential of the city you're building, he might offer you some protection as a new trade partner."
Narrowing his eyes like a grandmaster calculating moves on a chessboard, Igris asked.
"What if a massive Orc army marches in to take the mountain? Would Thranduil just watch, or would he take action?"
Elladan knew Igris wouldn't ask such highly specific, doomsday-scenario questions out of nowhere. Though a seed of suspicion was planted in his mind, he answered honestly.
"He would absolutely march with his army. No Elven leader wants a fortress teeming with Orcs right on their doorstep. If the Orcs haven't taken the mountain yet, he will fight to prevent it from falling into their hands. But if the Orcs are already inside the mountain..."
Taking over, Elrohir summarized the strategy of the Mirkwood Elves.
"Thranduil wouldn't bother trying to retake the mountain. Instead, he would send an elite force to Lake-town, turning it into a fortress. He would arm the eastern borders of his forest and rig it with traps, transforming it into an impenetrable stronghold."
Reminding him of the intrinsic dangers of that specific region, Elladan shifted the topic.
"For the past few years, they've been dealing with a severe spider infestation. A few years ago, my brother and I helped them destroy a nest, but we couldn't find a queen spider. And there are strange creatures there, too."
His interest piqued by this detail, Igris leaned forward.
"What kind of creatures?"
Recalling the grotesque imagery in his mind, Elrohir explained.
"Like centaurs, but the upper half is human and the lower half is a spider, standing around four to five meters tall. There were also massive snakes, but he took care of them a long time ago."
Little Estel, who was waiting quietly to say his goodbyes, shuddered with disgust upon hearing these monstrous descriptions, while Elladan took a deep breath and continued in a warning tone.
"Still, be extremely careful on your travels, Igris. Middle-earth is no longer as empty as it used to be, and we have no idea why."
Accepting the gravity of the situation, Igris nodded.
"I understand. What about food—do you have any advice? You two have traveled all over the continent. Is there anywhere around Dale where I can find provisions? Besides fish."
The twins remained silent for a moment, weighing the arid geography in their minds. Staring up at the ceiling, Elladan gathered his thoughts and spoke.
"Well... Smaug reduced the surroundings to ash, Igris. You won't find much in the way of flora nearby. As you know, dragon fire burns the very soul; since every seed and pollen in the vicinity was incinerated, the soil is considered dead. It can be cultivated, but right now it's mostly covered in mere weeds, nothing else. And thanks to the spiders, you can't forage in Mirkwood anymore. Not only is it far too dangerous, but the vast majority of the edible plants in the forest have become poisonous. There used to be a stretch of uniform fruit trees a few dozen kilometers to the east of Dale, but I have no idea if those trees are still standing today."
Complementing his brother, Elrohir charted a more pragmatic course.
"My advice to you is to establish trade and good relations with the Iron Hills, Lake-town, and Mirkwood. The Iron Hills have numerous flocks of rams and sheep, so meat won't be an issue. For fish, rely on Lake-town or the lake itself. If you find yourself in a really tight spot, ask Thranduil for help; I'm sure he will assist you. If necessary, use our names, for he owes us a life debt."
Elladan endorsed this idea from his bed.
"Once we're able to move again, we'll write letters for you to give to Thranduil. That will make things much easier for you."
Igris nodded sincerely, deeply grateful for this valuable information.
"Thank you very much. This will be incredibly helpful."
Elrohir continued, recalling one final opportunity on the map.
"Additionally, by building strong relations with Mirkwood, you'll secure a route to Lothlórien, which is ruled by my grandfather. If you gather enough strong men, head west, and travel to Framsburg—situated at the fork where the Langwell and Greylin Rivers meet—and establish good relations with the people there, you can rent small boats that will carry you along the river. You could trade with the locals there, or you could send merchant caravans down the river straight to Lothlórien."
Igris's eyes widened in sheer astonishment upon hearing that there was an organized settlement this far north.
"Wait a minute. There's still a city in that region?"
Elrohir nodded confidently, confirming his words.
"Yes, there are people living there, and the place is literally like a fortress. They have incredibly resilient warriors. They are kin to the men of Rohan."