Narvi opened his eyes and looked around. It was dark and cold. Then Narvi realised that his captors had removed the sack and chains. Standing up quickly Narvi saw that he was in a small prison.
Hearing footsteps, he went to the door. An elf came into sight, opened the door, and said, “Come with me!”
As Narvi left the prison, he asked, “Where am I?”
“In the dungeons of the elven-lord, Turion.” The elf brought Narvi along a tunnel for the dungeon was under a large hill that was surrounded by high walls.
Then they turned a corner and walked up some stairs. At the top, Narvi found himself standing by a large white hall, blinking in the sunlight. “I must have been down there for hours,” thought Narvi. Then he entered the building with the elf right behind him.
When Narvi entered into the hall, he saw a long black table with the tidy remains of a feast on it. At the end of the table sat an elf. He looked very noble in his crown and white clothes but the thing that Narvi noticed the most was the lordly elf’s smile. It wasn’t grim or mocking, instead it was kind.
Then the Turion spoke, “I can tell that you are a dwarf of high rank by the way you bear yourself and by the richness of your clothes. But tell me, what is your name?”
“You were right, my lord, in saying that I’m of high rank but as for my name I would prefer to not to tell you until I know whether you are friend or enemy,” Narvi replied.
“Very well, at least tell me what you were doing on the borders of my land for there is much evil in the world and I cannot trust any strangers.”
“I am travelling back to my home from visiting relations in Ered Luin.”
“I suppose that means you must be from Erebor then. If you are, then know that you are welcome here.”
“Thank you my lord, I am from Erebor.”
“And if you need something for your journey back to Erebor then we shall see that you get it.”
“Well, Sir, I do need a weapon and some more food.”
“Carno will see that you have what you need.”
An elf stepped forward and beckoned for Narvi to follow.
Just before Narvi left the hall he stopped,
turned to face Turion, and said hesitantly, “My name is Narvi,”
and then he left.
When he had left, Turion stood up to leave when one of the guards said to him, “My lord, what made you grant this dwarf that we know not permission to roam through your halls as a friend?”
Turion finished the wine in his cup then replied, “This dwarf is honest, polite, and respectful with foreign authorities. He seems to be a decent dwarf.”
“But why a dwarf? Would not a man be more worthy to see these halls that few but elves have seen?”
Turion, who was rarely wrong about other people, replied, “We’ll see if he turns out unworthy or not. And if he does, what can he do? Rávo brought him in while he was sleeping with a sack over his head. He won’t know how to navigate out of our forest without help and we can catch him easily. But I think this decision will prove to be beneficial for both elves and dwarves.” Then Turion and the guards left the hall.