Dwarves had no idea what rules were, a fact of which An Yang was now deeply aware.
Because tonight's dinner was far too meager, with no one except An Yang and Dwalin getting any meat, and because they had finally unlocked the secret to opening the door of the Lonely Mountain on the map, the former made their inner desires restless, while the latter gave them a legitimate excuse to hold a barbecue party in Rivendell!
Consequently, the dwarves produced the food they had brought themselves, and a barbecue party under the guise of celebration began.
Since there was no firewood, they improvised, offering themselves silent consolation while using axes to chop up chairs meticulously crafted by elven carpenters, and An Yang lit the fire.
The aroma of grilled sausages and cured meats quickly drifted into the air, accompanied by the unrestrained laughter and chatter of the dwarves.
Unlike in the original plot, Gandalf was also present. He sat alongside An Yang, unable to hide a look of worry as he watched the destructive dwarves. "I always feel this isn't quite right. This is elven territory after all, and Elrond is my friend."
"I also feel this isn't quite right, especially since they almost turned me away. If I hadn't stepped in to start the fire, perhaps they really would have refused my participation!" There was a hint of resentment in An Yang's tone as he continued, "However, didn't Lord Elrond invite you to have a talk? He should have a lot to say to you."
"Not yet."
"Be careful, Lady Galadriel has arrived. She is an old friend of yours, but there is also Saruman, the White Wizard." An Yang looked toward the bonfire surrounded by the dwarves, across which many roasting forks were crisscrossed. "Strictly speaking, Saruman should