Banquet

The group followed Lord Elrond and Gandalf, passing one pavilion, fountain, garden, and loft after another.

At last, they reached an open-air garden.

As soon as they entered, the first thing everyone saw was an enormous tree.

It was lush and flourishing, its thick and thin branches twisting together like a canopy that seemed to cover the entire garden.

Beneath it, two elegant dining tables had already been laid with all kinds of Elven delicacies.

A few beautiful Elven maidens sat beside the tables, playing flutes and accordions. They looked very refined.

Bilbo and the Dwarves were invited to sit at a nearby table.

Gandalf led Morgan to the main table, where he sat with Lord Elrond and Thorin Oakenshield.

The weather in Rivendell was lovely that day.

It was mid-afternoon.

The golden autumn sunlight not only bathed all of Rivendell in a beautiful golden hue, but felt especially warm and pleasant on the skin.

The open-air garden stood high above Rivendell, in a fine location with an extraordinarily broad view.

From inside the garden, one could almost take in all of Rivendell at a glance.

A beautiful setting, comfortable sunshine, gentle music, and lovely Elven maidens for company.

Sure enough, the powerful enjoyed the finest comforts wherever they went.

Morgan sighed inwardly and turned his gaze from the golden clouds in the distance.

By then, the Elven servants had brought out the final dishes.

Looking at the table full of food before him, Morgan smiled.

The Elves were vegetarians, and most of the food on the table consisted of vegetable salads, colorful fruits, jams, fruit wines, and sweets and pastries in all sorts of colors.

Although it was mostly vegetarian fare, there was an impressive variety. Every piece of fruit looked fresh and ripe, and the whole spread seemed luxurious.

The Dwarves are going to have a hard time with this.

Morgan secretly chuckled and immediately turned to look.

Sure enough, the Dwarves were staring at the colorful spread with long faces.

They had assumed that the Elven lord of Rivendell, such an important figure, would treat them to all kinds of meat and fine dishes, with plenty of wine to wash it down.

They hadn't expected to be served only vegetables and fruit.

They usually fed this sort of stuff to pigs and sheep. How could it possibly fill them up?

The Dwarves would rather eat the driest, toughest jerky than take a bite of vegetables.

As they often said, "Without meat, our mouths are so bland they might as well be full of birds."

Morgan had been traveling with the Dwarves for over a month and had learned quite a bit about them.

The reason Dwarves couldn't go a day without meat had everything to do with their way of life.

Because of their nature, Dwarves made the best miners.

They were skilled at mining, and they enjoyed it.

The Dwarves of Middle-earth mostly lived in the underground mines they had dug themselves.

Without some special reason, most ordinary Dwarves might spend their entire lives underground without ever seeing the surface.

An ordinary Dwarf's daily work mostly consisted of hammering away in mines and tunnels.

Mining was exhausting labor. Where would they get the strength if they didn't eat meat?

That was why Dwarves couldn't live without meat.

Elves were different. Their lifespans far exceeded those of ordinary races; with training, they could communicate with plants and nature after birth; and they had enviable physiques and looks.

All this made the Elves seem especially blessed.

Elves were close to nature, and they saw the plants, trees, and animals in the forest as friends.

That was also why they could communicate with plants and nature.

The Elven race seemed perfect in every way.

But in truth, they had one fatal weakness: they had far more difficulty reproducing than other races.

Once war broke out, the Elves recovered their strength more slowly than any other race in Middle-earth.

Still, nearly all long-lived races across the multiverse faced similar problems. It wasn't unique to the Elves.

Back to the matter at hand.

The Dwarves couldn't hide their distaste at the table full of green food.

But they knew they were guests in Elven territory.

The Elves had provided them with food and drink. The Dwarves might not care for it, but they still had to show basic courtesy and good manners.

They grumbled and complained, but they weren't about to say it aloud and make everyone uncomfortable.

Morgan turned back, picked up a grape-sized fruit from his plate, and tossed it into his mouth. It was translucent and resembled a grape. He bit down, crushing its plump flesh, and sweet juice immediately filled his mouth. The sweetness lifted his spirits at once.

"Delicious."

Morgan's eyes lit up. He looked at the colorful fruits spread across the table, growing more eager by the moment.

After more than a month of miserable adventures, he could finally enjoy a proper feast.

Morgan began to eat heartily. Lord Elrond was the lord of Rivendell, with wealth to spare. Morgan had no intention of being polite by trying to save him food.

Everyone else was much the same. Even the Dwarves at the nearby table, though they disliked the food, could stuff anything into their mouths once they were hungry.

It was quite a tale, really.

In the middle of the night the day before, Orc scouts had ambushed them, and they had run for most of the night.

The next morning, not long after they had rested, they encountered giant Trolls trying to steal their horses.

After the Company had struggled to deal with the three Trolls and ransacked their lair, they had no time to celebrate before the Orcs caught up with them again.

And this time, the Orcs had come in force, in overwhelming numbers.

They had lost all the baggage and provisions left in their temporary camp, as well as more than a dozen valuable ponies.

And in the end, the Orcs had nearly caught up with them.

If Gandalf hadn't led everyone through the secret passage to Rivendell, Morgan couldn't imagine what would have happened to the Company.

Once they had eaten enough to take the edge off their hunger, everyone slowed down and began chatting.

Gandalf and Lord Elrond were good friends, and they had the most to talk about.

As they chatted, Gandalf suddenly took the single-edged longsword hanging from his belt and handed it to Lord Elrond to examine.

Lord Elrond accepted it. After studying it for a moment, he drew the sword and gazed at the inscription beneath its hilt before speaking slowly. "This is Orcrist. It was famous for slaying Orcs, and was forged by the High Elves of the West."

Lord Elrond slowly revealed the story behind the Elven longsword Gandalf had handed him.

Morgan readily picked up the sword he carried and handed it over.

"This is... Glamdring."

Lord Elrond drew the gleaming sword and spoke gravely as he examined the inscription on its blade.

"This was the sword of the King of Gondolin."

"It is called Foe-Hammer. It became famous during the wars against the Goblins in the First Age."

"It was forged by the High Elven clans of the West."

Lord Elrond handed the sword back to Morgan and said, "This is a true blade. I hope it serves you well."