Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill? But the the ceiling looked strange; it was flat, and it had dark beams richly carved. He lay a little while longer looking at patches of sunlight on the wall, and listening to the sound of a waterfall. 'Where am I, and what is the time?' he said aloud to the ceiling. 'In the house of Elrond, and it is ten o'clock in the morning,' said a voice. 'It is the morning of October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know.' 'Gandalf!' cried Frodo, sitting up. There was the old wizard, sitting in a chair by the open window.
It's a big house this, and very peculiar. Always a bit more to discover, and no knowing what you'll find around a corner. And Elves, sir! Elves here, and Elves there! Some like kings, terrible and splendid; and some as merry as children. And the music and the singing.