Then his voice suddenly rose, transforming into a long and powerful chant. It was merely a vocal expression, but the emotions contained within touched the hearts of all who listened.
After the chanting ended, the music did not stop, but smoothly transitioned into the next movement. This time, the melody was deeper and more powerful, with a distinct rhythm reminiscent of war drums and marching armies.
"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, swear by his honour!"
"Hold evil at bay and vanquish mighty foes!"
"When they hear the triumphant roar of dragons, Dragonborn, we pray for your blessing."
---
When the final note sounded, Karl's fingers swept across all the strings, creating a majestic and perfect harmony. Then all fell silent, and a low resonance lingered in the courtyard for a long while.
The crowd was completely absorbed by the song, as if they had journeyed and witnessed the past of a legend. This was not merely music; it was an epic depicted through sound, a myth told through melody. Even Elrond, who had seen much and heard countless songs, could not help but be somewhat moved. He looked at Karl, his eyes full of surprise and contemplation.
As an Elf, he preferred calm and serene songs. But Karl's ballad was different — stirring, passionate, full of strength and resolve, telling a story of battle and victory. Logically, this style of music should not align with Elven aesthetics. Yet Elrond had to admit that it captivated him. As if someone who had lived through it personally had turned a true legend into a song, each note filled with imagery and emotional power.
Coming to his senses, Elrond raised his hand, satisfaction on his face, and slowly began to clap. "Magnificent, simply magnificent," Elrond murmured.
Thorin and his companions cheered loudly, and the dwarves leapt from their seats, applauding enthusiastically. The dwarves' favourite songs were stirring ballads of heroes, battles, honour, and victory. Karl's performance perfectly matched their aesthetic preferences.
"That was fantastic!" Dwalin roared, his face flushed with excitement.
"Now that's music!" Kili shook his fist.
"Sing another song! Sing another song!" Fili and the other dwarves shouted joyfully.
Karl smiled and shook his head, returning the tall harp to the stunned Elf. He rose from his seat and, under the mixed gazes of admiration, curiosity, and a hint of infatuation from several Elf-maidens, calmly returned to his place.
The banquet continued, but the atmosphere had completely changed. The Elves began to whisper among themselves, discussing the unprecedented song they had just heard. The dwarves gathered together and enthusiastically imitated the stirring fragments of the melody, trying to sing it in their own language. The result was, naturally, strange and amusing, causing bursts of laughter.
---
Some time later, the moon rose, and the feast came to an end. The company left the banquet courtyard and made their way along the carefully maintained paths of the secluded valley. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The sound of a distant waterfall grew clearer, and the air filled with a damp mist and the scent of night-blooming cereus.
They arrived at a place at the rear of the building, which appeared to be a viewing platform. The location was elevated, offering a panoramic view of part of the valley and a clear sight of the bright moon in the night sky. The platform was paved with smooth white stone slabs, with low stone railings along the edges, adorned with carvings of stars and grapevines. The bright moonlight illuminated the ground freely, bathing everything in a silvery glow.
Seeing this, Karl understood that an important conversation was about to begin. Although he and Bilbo had travelled together, he was essentially an "outsider." Bilbo was a hired burglar, and then joined as a helper; neither was a direct member of Durin's line. He then patted Bilbo on the shoulder, winked at him, and gestured for them to leave together.
Balin noticed their movements, turned to Thorin, and then spoke. "It's alright, Karl, Bilbo, you can stay. I think Thorin won't mind."
Thorin gave a slight nod, saying nothing, which was taken as silent agreement with Balin's words. Elrond stopped and turned to look at the crowd; in the moonlight, his eyes seemed deep. He looked at Thorin, waiting for the dwarf prince to speak first.
Gandalf turned to Thorin and encouraged him, a note of urgency in his voice. "Thorin, bring out the map. Let Lord Elrond decipher it."
Thorin kept an impassive expression and said: "This is my people's heritage, and I will keep its secrets."
Gandalf took a deep breath; his patience was at its limit. His white beard trembled, and he struck his staff against the ground with force: "Good heavens, how the stubbornness of dwarves infuriates me! Thorin, listen to me — your pride will one day destroy you! You now stand before one of the few in Middle-earth who can decipher maps! Show the map to Lord Elrond!"
Thorin fell silent, his gaze fixed on Elrond, trying to read something in the other's expression. Elrond looked back calmly, no pressure or impatience in his eyes, only anticipation. After a long while, Thorin finally took the map from his pocket and walked toward Elrond. The parchment was somewhat old, with worn edges, but it had been carefully preserved and neatly folded.
He slowly unfolded it, and in the moonlight, one could see mountains, rivers, roads, as well as incomprehensible runes and symbols drawn upon it. Balin looked at Thorin in surprise, not believing that he had actually decided to trust an Elf. He reached out to stop him: "Thorin, don't give it to him!"
However, Thorin firmly cut off his attempts to stop him. Then Thorin continued on, approached Elrond, and handed him the map. His hand hesitated for a moment in the air, but in the end, he let go.
Elrond took the map and unfolded it; in the moonlight, the lines on the parchment were clearly visible. His gaze swept over the map, and he looked up with a hint of surprise: "Erebor?"
Thorin was about to say something to Elrond. You can interpret it as you wish, and that's fine. Even if you have ulterior motives, it's none of your concern. But Gandalf, seeing Thorin's expression, understood what he was about to say. And so he spoke first: "This is mainly academic research, Lord Elrond. These ancient maps, documents, and artefacts often contain hidden messages."
Thorin wanted to say something, but Gandalf stopped him, so Thorin could only glance at Gandalf. But Thorin said nothing more, simply standing silently, waiting for Elrond's response. Elrond looked thoughtfully at Thorin and Gandalf, his expression saying: "I understand, you don't need to hide it."
But he did not expose them; instead, he lowered his head again and studied the map carefully. His fingers gently traced the surface of the parchment, feeling the raised ink marks and runes. His lips moved silently, as if reading something.