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Following the Fellowship
I wait quietly, knowing what they will decide. I could tell them there is another way but I was not invited to this council. They give me no voice and so I cannot speak. Elrond says this fate concerns all people yet we were not consulted.
They call us the walking dead though we do not live and die by their standards. 'The Cold Ones' others call us. To have a heart that beats is it such an important thing? To those with beating hearts it is. They say we are unfeeling, cold, wretches and give us no place in the world.
I know not for my kin, I only know me and I certainly do have feelings. The blonde man, sitting just there, he is why I stand in the shadow of this column waiting to hear the official decision. He desires the ring, I hear it call to him. It has no power over my people we rarely desire anything; we rarely do anything.
Ah, they finally voice their decision. They will send the ring to Mount Doom to be destroyed. I would take it to void the others fate and that of the blonde man but I still lack the power to speak. To silently slink, stalk, and hide without effort has its advantages except when one wishes to speak.
I may not offer an alternative but I will follow the Fellowship. To join such a grouping would be folly; what can be done in a group they can do. By being separated from their number perhaps I can make the journey for Him smoother.
They prepare and delay in little ways; they do not want to go. For me the shadows, the darkness, hold no fear. Here in Rivendale is trouble for me. There are few shadows to hide within but for Him I will do whatever I can. In the end, I wait for them along the path in the shade of the trees.
After many days they leave the brightness that is Rivendale. I confess I am relieved. I follow the ways of light but I am not one that can live in it. I let them all pass me and wait for those wishing farewell to retire within before I silently stalk after the Fellowship. They have left very early in the day, which means I have plenty of shadows to hide within and need not worry about noon for some time.
There is much silence in their group, except among the little ones, as if they do not wish to know one another. This I can understand between the dwarf and the elf whose people have long hated one another, but between the men it puzzles me. I had thought them to be of the same clan. I had seen this in every viewing of this Now, but I still do not understand it. No matter, I am here to do what can be done for Boromir.
What they say is true. I, like my people, do not have a heart or much of a substance. Often we are mistaken for ghosts, though we do not share in that curse. We usually only live in the Now though we may choose what Now it is we are in. That is how I came to know Boromir. I was playing in the shadow of swaying leaves, hiding nuts from small squirrels and arguing with them about the location, and I saw him die, three arrows from one bow. He was so noble in that deed. For the first time I wanted to remember beyond the Now. I wanted to hold the moment and think on it, my first memory of something outside of clan teachings.
I went to the Now beyond his death and saw what his friends did; I watched them save the White City. I went to the Now which saw him into the world. I watched the time that made him into the man who could take three arrows. I did not understand and I did not want him to die. I went back to live in his Now always, hoping there might be something I could do. As of yet, all I have been able to do is whisper encouragement to him.
As noon approaches I come close enough to be in the pony's shadow. It is possible for us to exist without shadow but it would weaken me, as asking a human to exist solely on leaves for nourishment. The wizard feels me or senses the fate of this group and it makes him more worried. There will be a testing for him on this journey by my dark, distant kin. Perhaps I will whisper its secrets to him before then.
Days pass as they do for those who live by them. My days are spent trailing along behind, my nights, when power comes freely, are spent watching. It is one such night that the wizard comes to lean upon a rock where I have anchored to watch over the small group. He knows I am here just as I know he is a wizard; we feel it.
"What do you gain by following us?"
I like him, whatever he came to do to me, because he gives me the power to speak.
"I do not follow for my gain."
My voice is strong and soft, he denies me no power of speech.
"Why are you here then? I should warn you that I protect this company and will ward even against you if necessary."
I point at Boromir.
"I follow his Now."
"Then he will be giving us trouble."
I look at him truly then, not just in passing. His beard is very long and scraggly. He wears gray but not that of dark comforting shadows.
"I do not understand."
I think he looks at me for the first time. Under the darkness I am at my most alive to those who value hearts. He takes a moment before speaking.
"It is not often that I encounter your kind, Walker of Shadows, but I have enough experience to know what kind of man you choose to torment."
I shake my head, enjoying the feeling of soft hair sliding across my back.
"He faces death, I seek to turn that fate. I have never tormented those that live and neither does my clan. Whom of us have you met, Wizard?"
He is quiet again for some time before speaking.
"I will not interfere with what you do to this man but I warn you not to attempt to harm the others or I will deal with you."
"I give you my word, the others are safe."
He leaves me then and returns to this own post to watch. I wonder when the wizard has met the dark clans. Just as there are twisted elves and dwarves, evil men and wizards, so are there those of my kind who choose to follow the dark ways. They have no power in daylight and exist to torture those they deem have dark hearts. Even my clan has a few who left to follow the dark ways.
There is not much for me to do during days. The Fellowship is heading south and slowly bonding. Boromir is trying to teach the little ones to fight with weapons and spars with them most mornings. The elf is always watching ahead but the others watch the matches and offer advice.
One morning, when we are much further south, the elf becomes agitated. The little ones have attacked Boromir in a show of resourcefulness. Before the elf is able to distinguish the carrion spies that come I know what they are. I have watched from a distance before and know whence they come. If they report to the evil wizard the Fellowship will suffer. The very thought causes me to burn with anger.
The others are hiding but I know that it will not be enough. It is early morning so there are still many long shadows for me to gather power from but I fear they will not be enough. The wizard looks at me for a moment as if he fears I call the birds to us. I do not have time to concern myself with him. As they hide and the birds come closer. I pull the shadows to me, strengthening them and they grow thicker. By the time the birds are in viewing distance there is nothing to see. What little shelter and shade there was I have made as black and as thick as darkness. It is as if the light shadows of the morning have become a blanket completely covering the Fellowship.
When the carrion leave I drop my power and fall. I have never dared to use so much power and I am utterly spent. The wizard declares the way south too dangerous so they will have to go over the mountain. They all begin to prepare to leave and he comes to stand next to where I lay.
"Thank you, Shadow Sister, if I had used power Saruman would have known we were here anyway."
He taps the ground twice with his staff and I feel strong again.
"You are welcome on this journey and I apologize for assuming you served the dark one."
At camp that night he asks me what I am called. I tell him that I have never been called as the living are. This seems to make him sad.
"If you will accept I will give you a name."
I can see no reason to refuse.
"Then I shall name you Tinúviel Beria uin Morchaint, which means 'Daughter of Twilight protecting from the Shadows' in Elvish."
Even as he speaks the name I feel more power come to me. It seems that there is truly power in one's own name.
From the moment of the carrion birds approach the pace and feel of the Fellowship change. The march of the day is with purpose and we cover more ground. No longer do they linger over breakfast and pause for playful sport. The mountain we are to cross comes to us quickly.
As we rise to towards the summit of Caradoc I realize my limitation. Soon there will be nothing but white snow about us. How will I travel? The pony becomes my only method of staying with the Fellowship. I look forward to them turning back and going under the mountain.
It is hard travel for all of us, toiling through the snow. The taller men must break trails for the little ones, Hobbits as they are called. I grasp with all my strength onto the shadow cast by the pony. Even that is weak in the reflective glare of the sun upon the snow. Only the Elf seems to have no trouble.
Even I, in my concentration, am startled by the commotion ahead. Using what little power I posses in this blinding snow I glide forward from the pony's shadow to that of a hobbit, then a man's shadow mixed with a hobbit. It seems the one that carries the ring they fear has dropped it and fell back a pace. Boromir now faces the call of the ring alone.
Though the distance between this shadow and his own is great, I make the leap to stand with him. Here, I can hear the voice of the ring even better.
"I will give you what you desire. Your home will be safe, your people cared for, and your nation strong. Once again Gondor will be feared. Men will know you and respect you as the most powerful of their kind. Even your father will be forced to give sway to your council. You can make him accept your brother."
Boromir's shadow looks no darker than the other's shadows but it is stronger. I gather a little strength from it and lean to whisper in his ear.
"You are already strong, son of the Great Stewards of Gondor. Your people love you and speak of you with reverence as you pass by. This is the ring that broke the kings of Gondor, shall it break the Stewards also? You are stronger than your father."
Even as I speak he reaches for the ring, though he does so slowly. All my being is for him in this moment.
"Know, Boromir of Gondor, you are loved."
He stops and pulls back. My voice has won over the ring. I have changed the Now. I do not allow myself to ponder over who I meant when I said he was loved.
"The Ring is safe, Frodo, but I think it best if you fetch it. I apologize that it must be so."
The tension that had built around us relaxes. The wizard is looking at me alone while the others focus on the hobbit retrieving the ring. Boromir does not move towards it again. The hobbit replaces the ring around his neck and the group continues onward. I decide to stay in Boromir's shadow; the Ring has made it apparent whom it believes to be the weakest so it is best for me to stay close to him.
Each day we hike through the snow is it harder for the Fellowship and me. The lack of decent shadows is beginning to wear me down and the snow is harder for them to trudge through. There is some relief for me as we attempt to cross the peak and a blizzard blows and brings darkness with it. This only hinders the rest. Eventually they decide to turn back, they decide to go underground. The wizard fears this path, as he should, but I cannot help but be excited at the many days of darkness ahead.
I grow stronger as we leave the mountain. When I can once again maintain my visual presence at night the wizard comes to speak with me. He only seems interested in thanking me for helping Boromir so I bring up the darkness ahead of us. His acceptance of me is strong enough that I can choose to speak on my own now.
"My distant kin lives in the deep places. We may face it in a Now."
The wizard sighs as if he does not wish to speak of this but he does anyway.
"Yes. I too fear we shall see the evil that lives below. I did not know it was kin to your kind."
"The bonds are very weak and very old. It is easy for my kind and kin to follow evil because we live in darkness but we do not all choose that path. Let me tell you what I can of this distant kin, it may help."
I speak of the evil in the mountain for some time. My hope is that knowledge of the creature will aid in the test the wizard must face. Light is threatening the dark before we finish talking.
It is not so many days before we find ourselves at the entrance to the dwarves' mine. It is next to a dark lake from which I can feel the evil seeking the hobbit. Gandalf spends much time trying to open the door. The Fellowship is focused on the door but I look to the lake.
Darkness rules this place and I am strong here but I do not have a full body with which to act yet. I am anxious enough to whisper the danger of the lake to Boromir and he joins me in watching the water.
The Hobbits finally discover the answer to the riddle of the door. The mine is open. I wish to go into its darkness but there is danger here.
I sense its before Boromir does and warn him. The others are trying to back out of the cavern and are not prepared for the attack. Even with my warning the creature still pulls the Ring-bearing hobbit out. Against this creature I can do nothing, swords are needed here. I retreat to the dwarves' entrance hall to wait for the others. They are driven back into the mine and the entrance is sealed. Finally we are somewhere I do have power.