Letters from Lórien
By Doodley
Hopefully, this is going to be a series of short vignettes of letters that the Fellowship sends from Lórien. It's just a short project I'm giving a go because of my ever-growing writer's block. I won't be forgetting Revealer, this is only to get me into the swing of it again.
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Letter one: Aragorn
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Dear father,
I do not know if I should call you that any longer. You have been such a father to me that no-one could pass bad judgement on you, but I do not feel that this is the right time to discuss such matters. I beg that these letters be delivered with the utmost urgency, as they hold word from each of the Walkers. I will make this part of my correspondence short, in hopes to ease the pain within both my heart and yours.
Gandalf has fallen. Caradhras had failed us, so we took the path of the dark halls. We tarried too long in Khazad-Dûm, and awoke a servant of the Dark Enemy: a Balrog. Gandalf was valiant and made for us to go on whilst he fought with the creature. He held it off at the Great Bridge, but alas for my folly! The bridge splintered and he fell, along with the Evil One. In doing so he has saved the quest, and all of our lives, but has lost his own. It is a deed that will live forever in my heart, along with fond memories of the noble man I was blessed to have known.
I led the Walkers to Lothlórien, where we now reside, and have done for the past month. I have counselled with the Lord and Lady, and they feel it best that I lead the Fellowship on the rest of the quest. I do not know what to think. I am too grieved still to take on such a burden, but I will do so, if it leads me to my destiny. I pray you think the same, and for that I will not fail in my duty.
And now for more pleasant affairs, if they can indeed be called pleasant when compared to our recent tragedy. The group is well, although I think the Halflings are taking more time to recover than the rest of us. Gimli and Legolas are fighting less and less now that Gimli has been shown the splendour of the Lady and the Golden Wood. It is a gratification that I cannot measure, as if I had heard one more argument from the pair I would have tied them to a tree and left them for the wolves. What allowed you to put an elf and a dwarf together on this quest I will ask when I see you next, but they have provided much needed amusement on our trip, and I do believe Gandalf, as well as myself, was willing to see them get along better. You see? Even now I cannot help thinking of him. It is unbearable.
Legolas seems at home here. Indeed, he has often gone on many scouting missions with the Galadhrim, and we hardly ever see him, save for meals and spots in the day he sees fit to talk to us. If you ask me, I believe it is because he has nothing better to do. Gimli sometimes goes with him, he is keen to learn about our culture and he will not admit it to anyone, but he is eager to see the Lady again. I think he is enamoured with her, but it is not for me to say.
The two people I am most concerned with are Frodo and Boromir. Of the former I will come to in a minute, but of Boromir I do not know what to think. At times he is fiercely protective of Gondor and his line, but I have seen him late at night, wandering off on his own, speaking aloud to himself. He says things about the fall of Gondor, and that the ring could prove more useful if delivered to his father. Who he says these things to I am not certain, but I think that the ring is finally taking hold on one of our group. I had hoped it would not be so soon, as I have grown close to him, and I do not wish to see him fall into the lure of the enemy.
And now to the business of the Ringbearer. Frodo is starting to weaken, I see it every time I look at his young face. He seems so determined not to fall as Boromir is doing, but I think that, in the end, his own fierceness will betray him. Sam's loyalty to him is astounding. I am hoping that loyalty will let Frodo be able to carry out his task. He has kept his spirits up through the two other Halflings. They entertain us all, along with most of the Galadhrim. Lord Celeborn found it most amusing when he found them sopping wet sitting under the pavilion. Something to do with what was behind a waterfall, he never got all the details.
Regrettably, this is where I end my thoughts. I turn to you to deliver the remaining letters to their recipients, and hope that I will get time to write to you again from wherever the road to my destiny takes me. I send my love to you all.
Goodbye, father.
Aragorn
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Elrond placed the pieces of paper on the table and contemplated what he had read. Mithrandir dead?
"Father?" called a voice from the doorway. "What ails you so?"
He turned to find Elladan in hunting gear with a concerned look on his face. He picked up the letter and handed it to his son before giving him another, larger letter out of the pile of unopened envelopes on his desk.
"Would you fetch your sister please? There is a letter from Estel for her," his voice fell as the full force of what had happened struck his already burdened heart.
Elladan recoiled as he read the last of the letter. Standing in complete shock, his thoughts went to that of the old wizard.
"Elladan?"
"Yes…I'll get her…" he stopped, "…but what…?" he looked at his father, utterly confused as to what the ink on the paper was telling him.
"I know, son. Please, get Arwen. And let your brother see the letter." Elrond sighed as he let his head fall into his hands.
"Of course," Elladan replied, and he walked numbly to the door.
As he heard the harsh click of the grey wood being shut, Elrond let himself crumble.
"Our house is broken this night."