Hello, everyone! Before you begin, I just wanted to say: this is a rewrite from a previous fic I had published in 2015 called An Unexpected Visit. Now that I have revitalized that original fic, I have made the executive decision to delete An Unexpected Visit and its sequel, A Long Awaited Journey from my profile.

As I was rewriting Avalain's main story, Until the Stars Fade (which I will soon be deleting and re-publishing as well), I decided that her prequel needed an update, too. Thus, I have decided to create this new project, which is now called A Long Awaited Visit. Thank you for reading; have a wonderful day or night, and I hope you enjoy.


On the 13th day of April, the year 2941, Avalain Nightshade, the fourth child and second daughter of Elrond of Rivendell, was frightfully bored. It had been twelve long years since last she had visited the Mirkwood where her best friend Legolas Greenleaf lived, and she was lamenting this fact with her quill as she was writing him a letter.

As she was composing the third page of said letter, her hand began to cramp. With a sigh, she set down her quill and glanced out the window. Everything was the same as it had been just a few minutes ago; the leaves were lightly rustling in the wind, the birds were still chirping as they perched outside her window… the very air radiated with a golden peace. It felt as if nothing would change for an eternity.

Avalain returned to her letter. She pored over what she had written to Legolas so far… Most of it was rambling about how much she missed him or asking about the state of the Mirkwood realm or wondering if he would have time to visit that summer.

As childish as she might have sounded, it had been fifteen years since last he visited, and Avalain was slowly falling out of love with the stagnant ways of Rivendell. She longed for her best friend, or for adventures of her own, even… but she had not been allowed to do much, seeing as she was charged with duties in her own land.

It was with a reluctant sigh that Avalain folded her papers and began to tie them together with a string. She honestly had no idea what else to say—so she rose from her chair and proceeded to summon one of the Homely House's messenger birds. She gently tied the letter around the hawk's leg, and after a soft stroke of its brightly-colored head, the bird flew away.

Left with not much else to do, Avalain decided to take a walk.

As she passed by the gardens, servants of the Homely House bowed or curtsied before her. She greeted them all by name and gave them a courteous smile, as these Elves were not only her family's servants, but her friends. Despite her benevolent greetings, however, they seemed uneasy.

The She-Elf knew why this was so: her father was off on one of his Hunts again. It was the fourth time in a month that Lord Elrond had rode out with his hunters to track down rogue Orcs. This was the fourth time in a month that they had strayed close to their borders, and this knowledge was putting her people on edge.

Before long, Avalain found herself by the tallest waterfall, where she and Legolas would escape to when they wanted to be alone. For a while she remained there, but she was unable to banish the concern she held for her father's well-being, even though she knew he was a great and talented warrior.

It was only another twenty minutes later that the unmistakable sound of an Elvish hunting horn pierced the air. The sound was so boisterous, not even the waterfall could conceal it—Avalain squinted down at the entrance to Rivendell to see a rather large number of people gathered at the silver gate.

Confusion and curiosity washed over her… but below that, a compelling feeling told her to go to the Homely House's pavilion. It felt like this could be the change she had been waiting for; even as she picked up her skirts and began to race down her house's walkways, she could practically feel a difference in the air, a change in the wind.

Once Avalain reached the stairs that would lead her to the pavilion, however, she stopped. Her father's voice was declaring in Elvish, "Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders."

But it was not her father's voice that caused Avalain to freeze. It was the voice replying.

"Ah, that may have been us!"

Avalain blinked, startled, and whispered, "Gandalf?" to herself. She could not fathom why he had suddenly arrived unannounced in Rivendell after so many long years…

Although, she laughed to herself, perhaps she shouldn't be so surprised—wizards were rather notorious for appearing only on their own whims.

Uncertain on whether she should reveal herself yet, Avalain grinned and concealed herself behind a bush. She carefully pried a branch to the side and almost gasped aloud at what she saw.

Gandalf was not alone. Alongside him stood a dozen Dwarves—only one was a woman, and there was another beside them who was no Dwarf, but a half-ling.

One of the Dwarves stepped forward, and was recognized by her father: "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain."

Avalain recognized that name from her studies on recent history. Thorin Oakenshield was the grandchild of Thror, and was the rightful heir to the throne under the mountain of Erebor.

He certainly looked kingly; he stood tall and proud as he appraised her father Elrond. His blue eyes were sharp, and the presence of an oaken branch at the dwarf's side confirmed the fact that it truly was him.

"I do not believe we have met," said Thorin, his eyes narrowed. He did not seem very pleased to be conversing with an Elf.

Lord Elrond, however, did not appear offended. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."
"Indeed?" scoffed the Dwarf. "He made no mention of you."

Avalain frowned, not quite sure why Thorin was being so rude and malevolent to her father. King Under the Mountain or not, he was still in the presence of an Elvish Lord—and he was a guest in Elven homelands, no less.

She watched her father intently, wondering how he would take this… She almost laughed aloud when he began speaking in Elvish. Although he was being quite polite, offering the Dwarves food and shelter, the Dwarves obviously believed he was saying something else.

"What is he saying?" growled one of the other Dwarves. "Does he offer us insult?!"

The rest of the Dwarves exclaimed in shock and raised their weapons.

"No, Master Gloin," responded Gandalf, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "He's offering you food."

Hearing this, the Dwarves all circled round each other, as if discussing.

"Ah," said the Dwarf named Gloin. "Well, in that case, lead on."

Avalain could not help laughing at this.

Only a few of the people seemed to hear her laughter: Gandalf, Thorin, her father Elrond and his servant Lindir, the half-ling, and a young Dwarf with blond hair. The rest did not seem to have heard her outburst, and they followed Lindir with a fair bit of grumbling.

As they passed, Avalain stood off to the side. She was rather curious as to their purpose in Rivendell… They would certainly change the Homely House's routines. She sincerely hoped it would be a good change; something that would raise her spirits.

The half-ling noticed her as he approached. She offered him a smile and a wave in a gesture of welcoming.

He smiled and moved on with the rest of his companions. It was the young blond Dwarf who noticed her next. He stopped in his tracks and gave her a suspicious look—one that highly resembled Thorin Oakenshield's.

Avalain could not help but chuckle at the resemblance. She suspected that this Dwarf and Thorin were related, for it would explain the similarities in their faces… as well as their demeanors.

That very Thorin Oakenshield tromped up to the blond Dwarf just then. "Come on, Fili," he muttered, placing a hand on Fili's shoulders.

Fili seemed to hesitate, a puzzled look still on his face as he gazed at Avalain. It appeared he did not know what to make of her yet—hoping to end their brief meeting on a positive note, she waved and smiled just as she had done with the hobbit.

A slight smile appeared on his face before he turned to follow Thorin.

The third and fourth Dwarves to spot her were the female Dwarf and a young black-haired archer, both of whom cocked their heads curiously. Although Avalain waved at them both, the woman simply sniffed and stalked off—although fortunately, the young archer had a smile identical to Fili's as he walked past.

Once again, Avalain could only assume that the archer was related to the blond and to Thorin Oakenshield.

As she watched the Dwarves' backs, Avalain was brought out of her thoughts by a hearty laugh.

"If I am not mistaken, it is my wonderful pupil, Avalain Nightshade."

She whirled around to find herself face-to-face with Gandalf, the wizard she had come to love as a father. A grin broke out over her face as she exclaimed, "Gandalf!" and embraced him happily. "It is so good to see you. It's been many long years."

"Two hundred, if I recall correctly," sighed Gandalf, raising an eyebrow. "Many long years indeed. I take it you are well?"

"Too well, I'm afraid. What with your and Legolas's appearances being so scarce, I've been quite ready for a change. You do not know how very glad I am you've come."

Gandalf chuckled, though it was a careful one. "I do hope you will forgive me in advance for any trouble this company of Dwarves might bring you."

"Why do you say that?" Avalain queried, unable to restrain her confused frown. "And why are they with you?"
There was no doubt that this last question made the wizard uncomfortable. He smiled nervously, the way he always did when faced with a conundrum. "They may be a bit difficult to warm up to, to answer your first question. As for your second, these Dwarves are simple merchants wishing to visit their kin in the Iron Hills."

"Thorin Oakenshield included?"

"Thorin Oakenshield included."

But Avalain was not falling for this. She was no longer the child he once tutored and parented. There could only be one explanation for why Gandalf would be escorting Thorin Oakenshield and a company of his trusted relatives and friends…

"If they are simple merchants, as you claim, then I must be the Queen Under the Mountain," she muttered softly.

The sharp look of shock upon the wizard's face told her all she needed to know.

"Upon my word," he exclaimed. "It appears I have not been gone long enough to deceive you."

"I doubt you will be able to regain that ability," the She-Elf smirked, bowing cheekily. "Though it appears you have been gone long enough to forget something about me."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

She laughed and took the wizard's hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "It appears you are worried that I shall tell Father what you are doing." Noting Gandalf's look of mild surprise, she added, "You are quite incorrect. Since when have I ever told Father about your dangerously exciting adventures?"

Seeing the look of relief upon the wizard's face, Avalain smiled coyly and turned to the palace. She knew that Lindir would require her assistance in preparing the guest rooms for the Dwarves—but before she took her first step, she said, "You are, of course, invited to dinner for as many nights as you wish. The Dwarves and the half-ling too—I have no doubt you are all weary and famished after such a journey."

Gandalf rewarded her with a nod and a smile, and then Avalain moved to return to the palace. She soon found Lindir and, although her friend was grumbling under his breath about the accommodations for a dozen sudden guests, could not help but be excited for the evening. Surely, what with the presence of a dozen Dwarves, the night would wield a most entertaining supper indeed.