This story is based on The Lord Of The Rings: The Third Age. Sadly there are no categories for The Lord of the Rings in either Game, or movie so this is only slightly based on the story of the book, the destruction of the ring although this will be scenes from races outside the fellowship example. I am happy to take any comments or ideas but I can do without rude or nasty reviews please, this is what I, and I alone, want to write lol! Thank you. All names are the work of J.R.R Tolkien and EA games.
"Captain?" A handsome man asked, shoulder length brown hair hung at his face. His dark eyes gleamed like pools of oil as he released himself from his Gondorian Citadel chestplate.
"Yes, my friend?" Boromir answered son of Denethor, steward of Gondor, and captain of the Gondorian army. He turned to face Berethor, one of his most favourable men and Captain of the Citadel Guard.
"What business brings us here to Rivendell! What news do the elves have, sir please what is this about?" he asked.
"Berethor, I cannot even tell myself, but I do know to my extent my father wishes me to return the weapon of the enemy to Gondor. But it is folly, what good could a weapon of Sauron bring?"
"Have you thought about what this weapon perhaps may be? Could it perhaps be the lost…."
"I have thought about this in great detail myself. It could be…but the elves would never pass it on. The possibilities if it were mine! Gondor would be at no risk of attack! Long have our people, yourself, fought under the walls of Osgiliath – no longer need we lose lives of our men!"
"But sir, would it work to our advantage?"
"I do not know, but do not worry. I have been summoned to a meeting, I shall speak to you tonight."
"Yes captain."
Berethor walked along a gentle path, and looked upwards towards the delicacy of Rivendell. It's soft grey buildings, white pillars and small waterfalls trickling down the curving trails, and huge towering trees covered in blossom lost small crispy leaves that gently wavered down to the ground and crunched beneath his feet. At one of the larger marble areas he could see many great seats, and a variety of heads. He could see the long flowing hair of elves; the great crooked hat of Gandalf the Grey propped on the edge of the back of the seat. He could make out Boromir, but only if he squinted hard, and could only just make out the long auburn-like hair and beard. What could this be about?
Two figures caught his eye walking towards him. It was Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, one of the most important elves in Rivendell. She was beautiful. Long waving hair lay on her delicate shoulders, and tiny dotted flowers rested in it. Her grey and silver dress glimmered in the soft light of the setting sun and her bare feet padded on the soft grass underfoot. She was with another elf, but Berethor did not know her. She had long blonde hair tied back into a loose plait and a tiny golden tiara lay at her hairline. His knees trembled as they passed, nodding slowly and continuing onwards. He stood. He felt almost entrance, the power of elves was immense, but this was different. The moment he saw her he wanted her, but he sighed. Elves and Men do not fall in love together, do they?
Idrial sat on a small bench in one of the many gardens of Rivendell. Her mind was swarming with emotions. Tomorrow she would ride out on Esgorath, her young silver colt, back to Lothlorien and to her Lady Galadriel. Her feelings for Galadriel were terribly protective, she was first hand to her and she would give her life to protect the Lady of the Wood. But these feelings were new. That man, who was he? She recognised him as only a man, but this face was new to her. But her thoughts stranded back to tomorrow's journey. She had to hurry back to Lorien, news from Mordor had been heard and she had to warn the Elves of the dangers upon the roads to the Grey Havens. She did not want to leave but had no reason not to. If only she could have an excuse not to. Her heart dropped. She remembered Haldir. He had asked for her hand in marriage but could not answer immediately. Being an Elf, was a wonderful feeling but her heart longed elsewhere. Somewhere she had not found yet. Facing Lothlorien meant facing Haldir, but rejecting an honourable Elf such as him meant ultimate dishonour. She must stop being so selfish. Someone disturbed these thoughts.
"Good evening" Berethor said, under his confident cover he was trembling with nervousness and excitement – this was she!
Idrial bowed her head. "Sir," she said.
"May I ask, who are you?" Berethor asked joining her on the bench.
"I am Idrial, from Lothlorien. I serve the Lady Galadriel. And you are from Rohan?"
"No Gondor, I am of the Citadel Guard, I serve Boromir heir to the steward of Gondor. My name is Berethor"
"Yes Boromir, he is an good man, although I cannot admit that I have ever myself become acquainted with him. Berethor may I ask have you seen Lady Arwen?"
"She is with Aragorn of the Dunedain, well was the last time I seen them. I think that, they were heading to the Waterfall Bridge."
"Their love is strong but has many problems" Idrial blushed. "I do not think that people are respectful to the love of elves and…men"
"I respect it," Berethor said gazing at Idrial. "Love happens in mysterious ways."