The World Is Ahead
Chapter One: Mist and Shadow
"Home is behind, the world ahead."
The cloak of hunter green brushed the pavestones of Rivendell, the material whispering as Kali took a sharp turn to the left. The six-pointed star that clasped the fabric together shone in the soft light of the sun, reflecting its rays until it gleamed with a golden shine. Despite the sturdy, leather boots that she wore, Kali's steps were noiseless and determined, the sole of the shoes barely touching the ground before being lifted and placed down again.
Kali wasn't often late. In fact, she considered herself as one of the only people that ever arrived on time. So, as the sun dropped a little lower in the darkening sky, she knew that she would have to quicken her pace, if she was ever to make it to the congregation on time.
As she continued her journey around the prepossessing sights of the Elven conurbation, Kali's hearing picked up the melodious voice of Elrond resonant through the clearing that she approached.
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor."He began, greeting his guests with a smooth voice, dark eyes briefly flickering the empty chair that Kali was to be occupying, before returning his gaze to the surrounding members of his Council.
Kali reached the edge of the glade, the swathe of cloth that she wore skirting the boundaries of the dell, as she straightened her posture in the presence of both Lord Elrond and the familiar figure of the Mirkwood Prince.
Elrond turned slightly, facing all the people he had bid upon to attend this gathering.
"Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate. This one doom." The ominous tone that the Elf adopted was effective in striking the Council with an unpropitious feeling of apprehension and uneasiness.
Elrond paused in his dialogue to look at Frodo, keen eyes seeking the band of gold that hung on a chain around his neck. Kali gazed at the hobbit with a curious look, settling her eyes on his shady curls and azure irises that seemed to gleam with both bravery and fear.
Kali saw the struggle within him. The possession of strength and courage seemed to run deep, but she could perceive his internal clash of gallantry and self-doubt. Whether that was due to his own insecurity or the influence of the Ring, Kali didn't know.
"Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Kali shifted in her spot slightly, foot edging forwards in hope to catch a glimpse of this alleged power in the form of gold. Her father used to tell her stories of war and battles that surrounded this very ring, but never once had he or she seen it.
The hobbit stood from his seat, the band heavy in his hand, as he brought it forward to place on the plinth, which was in view from all seats. With look of almost reluctance, Frodo placed it down on the cool stone, before stepping back and gazing at it once more. His cerulean eyes blinked once, almost shaking him out a stupor before he returned to his wooden chair that sat on the outskirts of the Council.
"So it is true!" Boromir spoke, his timbre voice cutting through the silence that seemed to have enveloped the entirety of the meeting. Kali looked upon the man, noting his fair, yet dark hair and yearning, grey eyes that were attached to the gold ring. The male had a muscular stature, shoulders broad and wide filling out his armour with strength and brute force.
A fine warrior. Kali reflected, before re-directing herself to the Elvish Prince that began to speak.
"Sauron's Ring! The ring of power!" Disbelief and a certain sense of trepidation coloured Legolas's words, as his long, champagne hair fluttered slightly in Rivendell's breeze. The Prince's eyes were the shade of steel in midwinter and the slight curvature and point of his ears, only proved to Kali that he was indeed royalty from Mirkwood forest.
"The doom of a man!" Gimli, a dwarf that possessed a mahogany plaited beard and long hair, declared. The look on his face was grim, mouth turned down into a frown, as his grip on the axe he held, tightened.
Boromir raised himself from the wooden seat in which in sat and raised his hand to lips before speaking.
"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay." Kali turned her eyes to him again, to the Son of Denethor, to the man with the hope that the Ring could ever be harnessed.
"By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him!" Kali felt an odd sense of both sympathy and empathy towards this male, of whom she did not know. He had no idea, no true logic to what would happen to either him or a Man of Gondor if they so happened to put it on.
She knew that they would be consumed by the power, eaten from the darkness and despair that was melted into the metal of such an evil creation. Yet, he had hope. A light of optimism that Sauron could be defeated, that the race of Man could do such a thing.
Kali admired him for that.
Then the voice of a man began to speak, a man of which Kali believed she would never meet again. Her heart pounded against its cage of bones, demanding to be let out, roaring to see his face and look at him once more.
But Kali knew it would not bring her closure or ease her into a peaceful state because that was never the case when it came to Aragorn. If anything, the torment of her adoration would come back and haunt her for years to come, never relenting or ceasing to stop.
It has been far too long.
"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." His voice was everything that remembered it to be. Smoky and deep, like the caves of Smaug, roughened, yet softening like crushed velvet. Kali drank every vowel in, each consonant with renewed passion and an edge of longing.
Yearning after a man that's promised to another.
How wretched.
Boromir (or warrior as Kali referred to him as) turned and looked at 'Strider' coolly, levelling out his gaze to fix on the man that had slated his plans.
"And what would a ranger know this matter?" He replied icily, a coldness of indignation and ire coating his words. Kali bristled at this, fists tightening with resentment, as she struggled to keep her dagger in its sheath and not aim it for the man's heart.
Gondorians always seem to see themselves above Rangers, higher up than those who could match them in strength and excel them in speed.
Aragorn said nothing, fingers twitching slightly, before relaxing as Boromir turned away dismissively to return to his seat. Legolas gracefully raised, an untendered rage seeming to settle on the Elf, before he turned his sharp gaze to the man that had turned to sit down.
"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." As Legolas spoke these words with a sharp, informative edge, Boromir turned sharply on his heel, eyes flickering to the Ranger before his features settled with quiet disbelief.
"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Kali refrained from smiling, a twitch forming on the edge of her lips as she thought back to the time when she had found out of his royalty.
With spiteful intent, Legolas added a sentence that would cause the Gondorian as much discomfort and annoyance as possible.
"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Before Boromir could react, Aragorn spoke up, wistfulness flicking through his eyes before landing on his Elven friend.
"Havo dad, Legolas." Sit down Legolas. Kali had always found Aragorn speaking Elvish to be not only soothing to her frayed nerves, but also comforting and a remembrance to his past, one of which he had confided and told her a long time ago.
He was the one to teach Sindarin.
"Gondor needs no king." Boromir vocalized his disapproval and resentment towards Aragorn obvious through his narrow eyesand tone. Nevertheless, he took his seat with a radiating anger that was noticed, but ignored by all the Council.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." The familiar sound of Gandalf's wise voice had Kali relaxing slightly, the knowledge that he was there seeming to work magic of respite and relief. The staff he gripped, the graphite-shaded cloakand hat he wore were the same as she remembered them to be.
Mithrandir. Such a wizard never to find again.
The dwarf of which had remained quiet for most of the discussion suddenly spoke up, rumbling accent of Khuzdul sweeping through the clearing.
"Then, what are we waiting for?" Gimli questioned with a timbered voice, as he stood from his chair, axe gripped tightly between his thick fingers.
Kali's gaze sharpened, knowledge of what the dwarf was about to do already settling in.
He was to destroy the ring.
Gimli raised it above his head, ready to strike down on the metal with the force and strength of a grown dwarf. The blade whistled through the air and without thinking, Kali swept forward, surging into the glade with one fluid movement.
Her hand grabbed the handle of the axe, halting its descent to the ring's surface, as the dwarf glanced up at her, surprise inhabiting his rugged and weathered face.
"Save your axe, Master Dwarf, for nothing you or I possess could destroy it." Kali spoke quickly, smooth voice glazing the words with promise and a wizened knowledge. Gimli tugged his axe roughly out of the woman's hand, before pointing it towards her, blade glinting in the dying sun.
Kali glanced out of her peripheral vision, noting that Legolas had already strung an arrow, the pointed tip lining up with her temple, awaiting its command to sail through the air. Boromir had drawn his sword, gaze flickering to the Ring before he straightened up and directed his weapon to Kali, hand steady like the metal weighed nothing.
"You are truly foolish if you have come with the intent to steal the Ring, stranger." The Gondorian stated, stepping forward threateningly, twisting the steel handle of his sword with repressed action.
"I come to attend Lord Elrond's council." Kali corrected, sweeping the hood back from her face and bowing respectfully in the Elf's direction.
"Lower your weapons." Aragorn commanded, voice sharp and authoritative, as his slate-grey eyes ran the length of Kali's body before stopping on her face.
Legolas was the first to relent, tipping his bow back until the arrow was pointing to the floor. He nodded to Aragorn, before seating himself again, fingers still wrapped tightly around the wooden handle. Gimli followed, swinging his axe back and grumbling deeply about his interruption, before glancing at Kali with uneasiness. He hadn't heard her intervene, just simply felt the handle being stopped, and if she could get to him without the Elf even picking up her footsteps, goodness knows what her stealth was like.
Boromir kept his sword pointed at the woman, gaze distrusting and curious, as he took in the familiar dressage of what she wore.
"And who may you be, young maiden?" The Gondorian man questioned, keeping his eyes on the woman before him, accounting for any weapons she may hold or keep on her person.
"Boromir. Lower your weapon, immediately." Elrond ordered, before Aragorn could intervene and grab his sword. The man paused for a split second, before placing it back into its sheath, instead choosing to cross his arms, muscles straining against the material of his tunic.
"I am Kali, Ranger of the North, and Daughter of Helberad." She announced evenly, voice never wavering once, as her gaze ever so quickly flashed to where Aragorn was sat, a light blush staining her cheeks, before she turned to Elrond and bowed.
"Apologies, my Lord. My father sends me in place of him to receive news of the Ring's fate." Elrond simply nodded, a spark of reprieve in his eyes, before bowing his head slightly in her direction. Kali took this as permission to straighten up.
"You're late." Gandalf verbally sparred, no accusations or demeaning tone in his wizened voice, simply humour as she watched his lips twitch into a smile.
"The journey here was more dangerous than I anticipated, my dear Mithrandir. I fear I would have not made it if it was not for Faramir." Kali explained, her eyes softening as she gazed upon the wizard that had aided her through many difficult times.
A hand suddenly clamped down on her forearm, fingers wrapping around it with a force that demanded answers. Kali glanced behind her to see none other than Boromir, his dark eyes blazing with a flame that seemed to burn for knowledge.
"You know of Faramir? How does he fair?" His hand constricted further, until Kali had to grit her teeth to stop herself from making a sound.
"Release her." Aragorn's roughened voice echoed around the clearing, a periphery of warning and defence evident throughout the two words he spoke. Kali swallowed, throat tightening, as she refused to meet the Ranger's gaze head on. She feared that if she did, the carefully constructed mask of indifference and war would fall.
She had to be focused.
Boromir released his hand immediately, before tightening it into a fist at his side.
"Forgive me, maiden. I simply wish to know of my brother's welfare." He bowed his head in an apology, before catching her gaze with his. Boromir's eyes shone in the fading luminosity of the sun and Kali simply dipped hers in an accepting manner, before rubbing the spot where he had grabbed.
"Your brother fairs well, Son of Denethor. He and few other Rangers led away several Wraiths from my path, so I could attend Lord Elrond's Council. I am most grateful for your brother's aid." Kali brushed her fingers against Boromir's hand as a sign of thanks before she drew back and began to make her way to the seat in which she would occupy.
"Ringwraiths so far North, Lady Kali?" The Prince of Mirkwood enquired, voice soft and temperate. Kali nodded graciously, stopping the journey to her seat, so she could bow courteously to the Elf. In her heightened hearing, she could hear Aragorn shift in his seat, fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, a sign of both bother and impatience.
"You should and shall never bow to anyone, mellon en' haba." Kali could distinctly remember the first time he had said such a thing to her. It was the instance where he had been announced as Isildur's Heir and she could memorize the feeling as she dropped to her knees in front of him, an even bigger well of less self-worth growing in her chest.
She had no chance with a king.
"Yes, my Prince. I know not whether they follow the ring or have knowledge that I would travel here, but I'm inclined to believe they have now journeyed South." Kali straightened up and took her seat amongst the Council, noting how close her chair was to Aragorn's.
Don't look at him. Don't even glance.
She could feel his flint gaze running across her face, dragging its way over the scar that marred her neck, before settling back on Elrond. Heat burned in Kali's cheeks, but she refused to place her cool hands on them to lessen the warmth. He would notice.
He always did.
"The ring cannot be destroyed by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."
The council sat in stunned silence, each member sitting with downcast eyes, as if a great dread has descended on each and every one of them. Boromir was the first to speak, addressing the Council with a quietened voice.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly." Although the speech he made rendered most in the meeting speechless, his words fell on deaf ears as Legolas cut through the apprehension with incensed words.
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed." The Prince's eyes tightened with irritation, the Prussian blue irises shrinking with annoyance at the imbecilic man before him.
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli scoffed, red beard blowing in the breeze as thick plait of hair began to unravel.
Boromir, ever the man with something to say, cut through Gimli huffs of indignation with negative words.
"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
Gimli leapt to his feet, face and skin revolving from peach to a resentful red, lines in his forehead deepening with anger.
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"
Who knew one little sentence could cause such a storm of an argument.
Shouts and roars erupted around the clearing, bellowing out their views and knocking down any other opinions with louder words. From the corner of her eye, Kali noticed the hobbit scan the faces of everyone around him and document the shaking fists and accusatory fingers, before landing his gaze on the ring.
Kali vaguely hears the roar of Gimli's voice outcry "Never trust an Elf!" before Gandalf stands up, towering above everyone and cutting into the commotion smoothly.
"Do you not understand? While we bicker among ourselves, Sauron's power grows! No one will escape it. You will all be destroyed, your homes burnt and your families put to the sword!" Kali simply remained seated, heart thumping loudly in her ears, as images of Aragorn lying dead amongst her fellow Rangers flew to the forefront of her mind.
A sudden clear and steady voice cut through the fury and the ignorance, sliced through the tension and animosity until all that remained was Frodo.
"I will take it... I will take the Ring to Mordor." The astounded faces of the Council would forever be engrained into Kali's mind, as a deep sense of sadness and pride overtook her.
Grief for a young hobbit to carry such a heavy burden, but satisfaction at the show of bravery, Kali knew Frodo possessed.
"Though, I do not know the way." His voice was muted and detached, slightly fearful at the chance that none would accompany him. However, Gandalf rose to his feet, a poignant yet proud smile donning the ancient wizard's face.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." The wizened voice made the hobbit's shoulders slump slightly in relief, as well as Kali's. He wouldn't be alone.
Mithrandir would keep him safe.
"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." Kali surged forward; her top body falling off the chair, as a breath suddenly was knocked out of her. Aragorn was knelt before Frodo, head bowed, as he vowed his life to the hobbit and the quest with soft, lilting words.
Kali felt as if she couldn't breathe.
He couldn't do this.
Aragorn couldn't risk his life for a journey he did not need to take.
Valar, help him!
"You have my sword." As soon as those words left the curvature of his lips, Kali knew that it was sealed, that he would do everything in his power to protect this hobbit, whether he paid for it with his own life or another's.
"And you have my bow." Legolas spoke up, stepping forward to stand in front of Frodo with a fluid stride. A split second later, Gimli shuffled in the direction of the ring bearer, weapon in hand.
"And my axe."
Boromir glanced at the men who had offered themselves to the quest before also, in turn, raising himself from the seat he occupied and speaking.
"You carry the fate of us all, little one." The Gondorian's gaze landed on Elrond and Gandalf, before nodding to them and standing a little taller. His 6 foot 6 inch frame towered above Frodo as he spoke.
"If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." Kali gazed in wonder at Middle Earth's greatest warriors standing before the hobbit, men pledging their lives to protect him, living up to their names of bravery and courage.
Almost as if she had agreed with herself, Kali nodded before rising sinuously and stepping forward.
"Though I do not possess the strength nor courage of these men, I will still gladly offer myself as a protector to you, Mr Baggins. You do not have to carry this burden alone."
Frodo opened his mouth to speak, azure eyes dancing with wonder and terror, as he looked upon the steady posture of the Ranger, but as he began to form words, a man's sharp voice whipped out lowly.
"No."
Kali's gaze shot up to meet his and as soon as their eyes met, nothing on this world could have stopped her from looking away. Aragorn's irises were solid grey, unyielding to the softness of hers, frozen with an unrelenting rage and stubbornness that signified everything about the Ranger.
"I have no want nor need of your blessing or permission, My Lord." Kali responded coldly, a determination of pursuing this quest racing through her body like liquid willpower.
"'Tis' too dangerous, fair maiden." Boromir interjected, gravelly voice cutting through the haze of resentment that clouded Kali's mind.
"I am neither fair nor a maiden. Whether you grant me permission or not, I will still follow you to the fires of Mordor and gladly burn in them alongside the Ring if that is what it takes. So do not take me for some lady or fool for I am more than capable."Kali hissed, cloak swishing violently around her waist as she came to stand before Frodo.
She dropped to her knees, an audible thwack of bone on pavestones resonating clearly around the glade. Kali ignored the pain.
"I will follow you into the flames, my dear korma kolindo." Ring bearer. Though, Frodo did not understand the Elvish in which she spoke, he knew that she had named him rightfully.
A firm hand clamped down on her shoulder and without looking, Kali knew who it was.
It was a 'We'll talk later' gesture. One that she did not want to go through.
Suddenly, a hobbit ran from the shrubbery that was formed around the clearing, an obvious indication of eavesdropping.
"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me." The first one piped up, an accent running throughout the words. Elrond lips quirked into a smile as he looked upon at the friend of Frodo.
"No, Indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you. Even when he is summonedto a secret council and you are not."
Two other hobbits also appeared momentarily, a look of confidence covering their faces as they stepped from the bushes.
"Oi! We're coming too! You'll have tosend us home tied up in a sack to stop us." The first greeted, oh so politely.
"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest...thing." The other began, stumbling out his words at the end, when all attention fell on him.
"Well, that rules you out, Pip." Kali enjoyed the light-heartedness of the banter between both hobbits, as it cut through the tension that had been laced through the air.
Elrond surveyed the group, eyes landing on Kali before flashing up to meet Aragorn's disapproving yet steady gaze.
"Nine companions. So be it." It felt as if Kali had been stabbed with a Morgul blade, as the obviousness of who had been chosen, shone through in Elrond's words.
The grip on her shoulder tightened, before releasing her in a noticeable movement of relief and gratitude. All Kali felt was worthless.
"You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." Elrond announced, widening his arms to signify the group he had chose to undertake such a mission. She had never felt so excluded in her life.
And as one hobbit, named Pippin spoke up with a cheerfulness that brought Kali down even more, she couldn't help but sense of self-doubt.
Was it because she wasn't good enough?
Kali stood up gracefully, brushing herself off in one sweep of her hand, before turning on her heel in hope of meeting the exit.
As she looked up, she was met with the sight of a man blocking her departure with his tunic-clad chest. Shoulders tensed with a gloom even the light of Rivendell couldn't lighten, Kali gave a momentary look to who was in her way.
Gun mental grey locked onto her rich mead eyes once more.
"It's been too long, my wanderer."
Kali's knees began to weaken as he took a step forward.
And another as Aragorn began to approach.