[Mithadan]

Elladan watched as Elrohir and Angóre rode off towards the mountains. Then he settled in to wait for their return. Taking up a twig, he drew a diagram in the dirt, then, with a scowl, he scratched it out. He shook his head and looked off at the mountains as if his long gaze might pierce some veil which shrouded them.

Fingil noticed Elladan's distraction and came near to sit beside Elrond's son. "Something troubles you," he said.

"I fear that the Gates of Moria will be guarded," he answered. "I do not know how we will safely enter..."

Upon hearing this, Tintallë's head jerked around. "You do not know how we will enter?" he demanded. "We have travelled for days and withstood Trolls and Wargs and you do not know how we will enter?"

Elladan's eyes flashed, then cooled and he responded evenly. "There is no tale in Rivendell which speaks of any entrance to the Dwarven realm on this side of the mountains other than the Gates of Durin. Beyond those Gates is a deep abyss spanned only by a narrow bridge, without rails, broad enough only for one person to pass at a time. If that bridge is held against us, I would not care to try to enter that way. No doubt there are other entrances for supplies and wagons, but if so, they are hidden for none know of them. The Dwarves' practice was to conceal a door by making it appear even as the rock from which the mountain is made, without seam or hinge. We might spend weeks seeking such a door, if it exists at all."

"Then is this a fool's errand?" cried Tintallë. "That we shall either not enter or we shall brave Durin's Gate and send up the alarm to all the Orcs of Moria?"

"Peace," answered Elladan in an cold voice. "For this reason, my brother and Angóre are sent to spy out the ways of Dimrill Dale so that we will know if that route is safe. If it is not, we will...find another way to enter." From where he sat, he could just see the peak of Celebdil and he stared intently at that rocky crag...