Disclaimer: It's really very simple. If you recognize them, they're not mine.
A/N: Down the bottom.
Chapter 1
The final moments of the council of Elrond.
So the Fellowship was complete. Or was it?
"I'm going too!"
Most present were at a loss as to where this new voice emanated from. Legolas was the first to spy a small form ambling down from one of the taller trees surrounding the little courtyard. The sound of leaves rustling and branches bending alerted the less keen-sighted to the location of the latest intruder. She dropped nimbly to her feet behind the assembled company, stood as tall as her frame allowed, and repeated emphatically, "I'm going too."
"No you're not," stated Elrond matter-of-factly. "And begone with you. I warned you specifically to stay away."
"And that, specifically, is why you should have known I'd be here anyway," said the girl in a tone of voice which clearly suggested they'd had the same argument many times before.
Elrond, trying to ignore the insolent youngster, reclaimed the council's attention and began announcing certain practical arrangements.
"You're not listening to me, are you? I said I'm going too," said the girl, pushing her way into the circle.
"And I said you're not," stated Elrond with a tired expression. "The Fellowship is complete. They have no use for you. Seek your adventures elsewhere."
"Well, I think they may well have use for me. Besides, all the good folk of Middle-Earth are represented here, except mine. That hardly seems fair."
"What do you mean, except yours?" Legolas cut in. "You are elven, are you not?"
"Actually, no," said the girl with a smug grin. "I'm a fairy."
"A fairy!" cried Legolas and his father who stood at the opposite side of the circle, almost in unison. Both carried expressions of apprehension and intense disgust.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Thranduil of Elrond. "A fairy in Rivendel? Walking unchecked among elves? Unheard of!"
"Easy, Thranduil, Legolas. Do not be alarmed," Elrond tried to calm his guests down. "Allow me to explain. This," he gestured towards the girl who stood immovable with a small smile and crossed arms, "is Ceirin. She was found as a baby near Rivendel, almost twenty years ago. We assumed her to be of our kind, and raised her as one of our own. But the child's true parentage soon became apparent."
"Then why did you not send her away, back to her own folk where she belongs?" asked Legolas logically, pointedly addressing Elrond.
"I don't appreciate you speaking about me as if I were not even here," Ceirin said flatly, cutting off Elrond who had been about to answer the question. She and Legolas exchanged a look not a million miles from hostile, before she continued, "they tried, you know. But the fairies didn't want me back. So these good elves took pity on me once more, and I've been a thorn in their collective side ever since."
"Ceirin, don't be melodramatic," said Elrond, beginning to look irritated.
"Oh, that's right. Forgive me, my lord," said Ceirin innocently, eyebrows drawn together. She looked around the circle, before adding conspiratorially, "they hate to be reminded of the fact they don't even like me. Understandable, isn't it? After all, it's very unelvish to be so uncharitable as to dislike a protegee. Therefore, my lord," she turned her head sharply back towards Elrond, "I will inconvenience you no more by attempting to be agreeable and failing to your own dismay. Rather, I will give you an excuse to dislike me openly. I will disobey you, and join the Fellowship anyway."
Elrond did not seem impressed by this display of reversed psychology. Nor did Legolas.
"You are not travelling with us," he said dryly, in a tone as if declining someone's idiotic suggestion to go and hunt a Balrog.
"Hang on a minute!" Sam piped up. The hobbits had been exchanging mystified looks. "Have we missed something? What are fairies? And if she's one, how come she looks exactly like an elf?"
Once again, Ceirin cut off Elrond who'd been about to go into an explanation. "Your name is Sam?"
"It is."
"And you're a gardener, aren't you?"
Sam looked nonplussed, as did all others present who were not elves, or Aragorn. Or Gandalf.
"Yes," he replied hesitantly.
"Then you enjoy watching things grow, don't you?"
"Yes, very much," Sam said cheerfully, momentarily forgetting mystification when reminded of his life's passion.
"And have you ever wondered," continued Ceirin with an undefinable smile, "what makes them grow?"
"Rain does. And sunshine."
"Of course. But what if I told you that's only half the story?"
"Are you meaning to tell us," asked Merry, who had connected the dots a little quicker than the others, "that fairies make things grow?"
She turned away and began to pace up and down a little. "Not exactly," she replied, searching for a way to explain. "Fairies don't exactly make things grow, but help them grow in any case."
"That doesn't sound too bad," said Frodo. "If that's what fairies do, why do they get so worked up about you being one?" he asked, gesturing towards the elves.
"You do not know what they really are," said Legolas. He detached himself from the group he'd been flanking and walked towards Ceirin, who stood somewhat forlornly between Elrond and the Fellowship. "Fairies are deceitful creatures," he told them, while beginning to slowly circle around the girl, like a cat arounds its prey. "They are selfish, fickle, erratic, completely untrustworthy. Yes, they have the power to make things grow, to uphold the circle of life. They have great power. And they squander most of it to indulge in whatever suits their fancy. Treacherous creatues, who hold the power of illusion and answer to no master. They will play any cruel trick on man or elf for their own idle amusement. If you've ever lost something you couldn't find in spite of hours of searching, it will have been a fairy who removed it, for the pleasure of watching you search. If you've ever walked alone at night and heard frightening noises, as of something following you, count on it that it was a fairy toying with you." Here, he turned to face the Fellowship. "It must be Frodo's decision, no one else's. But I speak strongly against allowing such a creature to join our Fellowship," he concluded. "We cannot trust her."
Ceirin had kept herself remarkably placid as Legolas circled her, but now, as he stood beside her facing the Fellowship – purposefully, it seemed, to keep from showing her his back – if looks could be arrows, the elf could have rivalled any pincushion.
All eyes turned to Frodo.
"It's not my decision alone," he began shyly. "We're not Frodo's Fellowship, we're the Fellowship of the Ring. We're all in this together, embarking on the same mission. But I do have something to say. If there's one thing I've learned in the last few weeks, it is that actions speak louder than words. You can use words like friendship and loyalty and trust, but they won't mean anything until you back them up with your deeds." He looked affectionately at each of the other hobbits. "I think everyone deserves a chance to let their actions speak for them. Many things are said of hobbits. Many of them are said by hobbits. But I know those things don't necessarily apply to each one of us. Maybe it's the same with fairies," he shrugged and smiled at Ceirin. "I would like us to give Ceirin a chance."
She smiled back happily, ignored Legolas and aimed a self-righteous glare at Elrond, but cowered under the mighty elf's rather icy gaze.
"I agree with Mister Frodo," Sam put in. "Anyone who is responsible for flowers growing can't be all that bad."
Behind him, Aragorn and Gandalf exchanged a thoughtful look. "I've heard many stories about these fairies," said Gandalf in cultured vowels, "but I must admit I've never met one until this day. While I think our elvish friend might be right in advising us to be cautious, perhaps it would be wise to follow the hobbit's example and give this young one the benefit of the doubt." He raised his eyebrows at Ceirin to get the message across that she was on probation.
While Ceirin successfully kept from cringing, Legolas bowed his head.
Gimli, eager to see an elf proved wrong, also expressed his acceptance of an added member. Boromir merely pulled down the corners of his mouth and nodded his head.
"Then it is decided," said Aragorn with all the authority he had not yet claimed. "Our Fellowship will consist of ten."
Elrond kept his silence. His pride itched at being passed over, but he knew at his age that pride was rather irrelevant. So the girl was a bit of a handful, a rebel without a cause. She knew next to nothing about fighting, had never met a bow or a sword up close – he'd seen to that – and had never been outside of Rivendel, to his knowledge. But she might find a way to be useful. She did own gifts even the elf had little understanding of. And while to some extent she did represent her own fairy folk, she represented Rivendel too. And maybe, just maybe, she might make them proud. Her graceful acceptance of membership to the Fellowship was a promising start.
"I have no sword, bow or axe," she said solemnly, bowing her head towards the Fellowship, "but what little I can do to ensure Frodo's safety and further the success of this crucial mission, it shall be done."
The members of the Fellowship each set about their own preparations as the council of Elrond dispersed. Legolas walked away straight-backed without sparing Ceirin another glance. Frodo went to his room to meditate on his decision in peace, while the other hobbits tentatively approached Ceirin for a meticulous inspection of yet an other new and intriguing sort of creature. Pippin made her bend down so he could touch her ears, which were longer than an elf's and expressively mobile like an animal's. She unexpectedly twitched the one he was looking at, which elicited a chorus of requests to do that again.
"One thing, I don't understand," said Sam. "No hobbit has ever seen a fairy, or even heard of one. But if you make things grow, don't you sort of have to be wherever things are growing? And there's lots in the Shire. So why have we never seen your folk?"
"Easy," she replied casually. "We can make ourselves tiny, or even invisible."
The hobbits gaped at her. "Smaller than a hobbit?" asked Merry.
"Much smaller."
"Well, show us then. I'd like to see that," requested Pippin.
"Can't," she said. "I know fairies in general can do that, but I can't. I wouldn't know how. But I could show you my wings," she added with a mischievous smile.
The three hobbits clamoured that she should. She stepped back, bowed her head a little and took a deep breath. Then, with a faint purple glow, there they were, sprouting inexplicably from her back. Shaped much like butterfly wings, shimmering semi-transparently in purple, blue and indigo.
The hobbits ooh'd and ah'd. Pippin reached out, but found that his fingers passed right through the delicate looking wing, which explained why they could sprout right through her clothes.
"Take me flying," pleaded Merry. "Please, just once. I've always dreamed of being able to fly."
"Oh, no. Elrond would be angry if he saw. He doesn't like me using them for no good reason. And I think he's right. Whatever reason I was given these wings for, it's not so I can amuse myself when I've nothing better to do and frighten the wits out of birds."
"Well," observed Sam dryly, "I guess none of us are wondering if you were really raised by elves."
A/N: I know what you're thinking. Really. A tenth member to the Fellowship. A female member. An immediate build-up of tension between her and Leggy. This positively reeks of Mary Sue. Yah. I know. I don't like that smell either. But this is the story I want to tell (having borrowed inspiration for my take on fairies from the animation picture 'Ferngully: The Last Rainforest' and from Traci Harding's breathtaking novel series 'The Ancient Future') and I am determined to fall into as few as possible of the traps Mary Sue has dug for us fanfiction writers. Do you know why we've given Mary Sue a name? Because it makes her easier to fight than a nameless foe. Also, there is a distinction to be made between Mary Sueish plots and Mary Sueish characterizations. I am aware of and will try to avoid both. But even so, neither makes a Mary Sue. It's the author's wishful identification with her own original character that does. And unconvincing as it may sound, I am not imagining myself to be Ceirin.
A/N 2: I've read the books and seen the movies several times, but I'm by no means an expert on Tolkien's canon. Also, I don't own copies of either the books or the movies, and therefore find myself in the impossibility to go and look up every detail. So if you notice anything that is flagrantly wrong, either forgive me and take it in stride, or let me know so I can fix it.
A/N: Down the bottom.
Chapter 1
The final moments of the council of Elrond.
So the Fellowship was complete. Or was it?
"I'm going too!"
Most present were at a loss as to where this new voice emanated from. Legolas was the first to spy a small form ambling down from one of the taller trees surrounding the little courtyard. The sound of leaves rustling and branches bending alerted the less keen-sighted to the location of the latest intruder. She dropped nimbly to her feet behind the assembled company, stood as tall as her frame allowed, and repeated emphatically, "I'm going too."
"No you're not," stated Elrond matter-of-factly. "And begone with you. I warned you specifically to stay away."
"And that, specifically, is why you should have known I'd be here anyway," said the girl in a tone of voice which clearly suggested they'd had the same argument many times before.
Elrond, trying to ignore the insolent youngster, reclaimed the council's attention and began announcing certain practical arrangements.
"You're not listening to me, are you? I said I'm going too," said the girl, pushing her way into the circle.
"And I said you're not," stated Elrond with a tired expression. "The Fellowship is complete. They have no use for you. Seek your adventures elsewhere."
"Well, I think they may well have use for me. Besides, all the good folk of Middle-Earth are represented here, except mine. That hardly seems fair."
"What do you mean, except yours?" Legolas cut in. "You are elven, are you not?"
"Actually, no," said the girl with a smug grin. "I'm a fairy."
"A fairy!" cried Legolas and his father who stood at the opposite side of the circle, almost in unison. Both carried expressions of apprehension and intense disgust.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Thranduil of Elrond. "A fairy in Rivendel? Walking unchecked among elves? Unheard of!"
"Easy, Thranduil, Legolas. Do not be alarmed," Elrond tried to calm his guests down. "Allow me to explain. This," he gestured towards the girl who stood immovable with a small smile and crossed arms, "is Ceirin. She was found as a baby near Rivendel, almost twenty years ago. We assumed her to be of our kind, and raised her as one of our own. But the child's true parentage soon became apparent."
"Then why did you not send her away, back to her own folk where she belongs?" asked Legolas logically, pointedly addressing Elrond.
"I don't appreciate you speaking about me as if I were not even here," Ceirin said flatly, cutting off Elrond who had been about to answer the question. She and Legolas exchanged a look not a million miles from hostile, before she continued, "they tried, you know. But the fairies didn't want me back. So these good elves took pity on me once more, and I've been a thorn in their collective side ever since."
"Ceirin, don't be melodramatic," said Elrond, beginning to look irritated.
"Oh, that's right. Forgive me, my lord," said Ceirin innocently, eyebrows drawn together. She looked around the circle, before adding conspiratorially, "they hate to be reminded of the fact they don't even like me. Understandable, isn't it? After all, it's very unelvish to be so uncharitable as to dislike a protegee. Therefore, my lord," she turned her head sharply back towards Elrond, "I will inconvenience you no more by attempting to be agreeable and failing to your own dismay. Rather, I will give you an excuse to dislike me openly. I will disobey you, and join the Fellowship anyway."
Elrond did not seem impressed by this display of reversed psychology. Nor did Legolas.
"You are not travelling with us," he said dryly, in a tone as if declining someone's idiotic suggestion to go and hunt a Balrog.
"Hang on a minute!" Sam piped up. The hobbits had been exchanging mystified looks. "Have we missed something? What are fairies? And if she's one, how come she looks exactly like an elf?"
Once again, Ceirin cut off Elrond who'd been about to go into an explanation. "Your name is Sam?"
"It is."
"And you're a gardener, aren't you?"
Sam looked nonplussed, as did all others present who were not elves, or Aragorn. Or Gandalf.
"Yes," he replied hesitantly.
"Then you enjoy watching things grow, don't you?"
"Yes, very much," Sam said cheerfully, momentarily forgetting mystification when reminded of his life's passion.
"And have you ever wondered," continued Ceirin with an undefinable smile, "what makes them grow?"
"Rain does. And sunshine."
"Of course. But what if I told you that's only half the story?"
"Are you meaning to tell us," asked Merry, who had connected the dots a little quicker than the others, "that fairies make things grow?"
She turned away and began to pace up and down a little. "Not exactly," she replied, searching for a way to explain. "Fairies don't exactly make things grow, but help them grow in any case."
"That doesn't sound too bad," said Frodo. "If that's what fairies do, why do they get so worked up about you being one?" he asked, gesturing towards the elves.
"You do not know what they really are," said Legolas. He detached himself from the group he'd been flanking and walked towards Ceirin, who stood somewhat forlornly between Elrond and the Fellowship. "Fairies are deceitful creatures," he told them, while beginning to slowly circle around the girl, like a cat arounds its prey. "They are selfish, fickle, erratic, completely untrustworthy. Yes, they have the power to make things grow, to uphold the circle of life. They have great power. And they squander most of it to indulge in whatever suits their fancy. Treacherous creatues, who hold the power of illusion and answer to no master. They will play any cruel trick on man or elf for their own idle amusement. If you've ever lost something you couldn't find in spite of hours of searching, it will have been a fairy who removed it, for the pleasure of watching you search. If you've ever walked alone at night and heard frightening noises, as of something following you, count on it that it was a fairy toying with you." Here, he turned to face the Fellowship. "It must be Frodo's decision, no one else's. But I speak strongly against allowing such a creature to join our Fellowship," he concluded. "We cannot trust her."
Ceirin had kept herself remarkably placid as Legolas circled her, but now, as he stood beside her facing the Fellowship – purposefully, it seemed, to keep from showing her his back – if looks could be arrows, the elf could have rivalled any pincushion.
All eyes turned to Frodo.
"It's not my decision alone," he began shyly. "We're not Frodo's Fellowship, we're the Fellowship of the Ring. We're all in this together, embarking on the same mission. But I do have something to say. If there's one thing I've learned in the last few weeks, it is that actions speak louder than words. You can use words like friendship and loyalty and trust, but they won't mean anything until you back them up with your deeds." He looked affectionately at each of the other hobbits. "I think everyone deserves a chance to let their actions speak for them. Many things are said of hobbits. Many of them are said by hobbits. But I know those things don't necessarily apply to each one of us. Maybe it's the same with fairies," he shrugged and smiled at Ceirin. "I would like us to give Ceirin a chance."
She smiled back happily, ignored Legolas and aimed a self-righteous glare at Elrond, but cowered under the mighty elf's rather icy gaze.
"I agree with Mister Frodo," Sam put in. "Anyone who is responsible for flowers growing can't be all that bad."
Behind him, Aragorn and Gandalf exchanged a thoughtful look. "I've heard many stories about these fairies," said Gandalf in cultured vowels, "but I must admit I've never met one until this day. While I think our elvish friend might be right in advising us to be cautious, perhaps it would be wise to follow the hobbit's example and give this young one the benefit of the doubt." He raised his eyebrows at Ceirin to get the message across that she was on probation.
While Ceirin successfully kept from cringing, Legolas bowed his head.
Gimli, eager to see an elf proved wrong, also expressed his acceptance of an added member. Boromir merely pulled down the corners of his mouth and nodded his head.
"Then it is decided," said Aragorn with all the authority he had not yet claimed. "Our Fellowship will consist of ten."
Elrond kept his silence. His pride itched at being passed over, but he knew at his age that pride was rather irrelevant. So the girl was a bit of a handful, a rebel without a cause. She knew next to nothing about fighting, had never met a bow or a sword up close – he'd seen to that – and had never been outside of Rivendel, to his knowledge. But she might find a way to be useful. She did own gifts even the elf had little understanding of. And while to some extent she did represent her own fairy folk, she represented Rivendel too. And maybe, just maybe, she might make them proud. Her graceful acceptance of membership to the Fellowship was a promising start.
"I have no sword, bow or axe," she said solemnly, bowing her head towards the Fellowship, "but what little I can do to ensure Frodo's safety and further the success of this crucial mission, it shall be done."
The members of the Fellowship each set about their own preparations as the council of Elrond dispersed. Legolas walked away straight-backed without sparing Ceirin another glance. Frodo went to his room to meditate on his decision in peace, while the other hobbits tentatively approached Ceirin for a meticulous inspection of yet an other new and intriguing sort of creature. Pippin made her bend down so he could touch her ears, which were longer than an elf's and expressively mobile like an animal's. She unexpectedly twitched the one he was looking at, which elicited a chorus of requests to do that again.
"One thing, I don't understand," said Sam. "No hobbit has ever seen a fairy, or even heard of one. But if you make things grow, don't you sort of have to be wherever things are growing? And there's lots in the Shire. So why have we never seen your folk?"
"Easy," she replied casually. "We can make ourselves tiny, or even invisible."
The hobbits gaped at her. "Smaller than a hobbit?" asked Merry.
"Much smaller."
"Well, show us then. I'd like to see that," requested Pippin.
"Can't," she said. "I know fairies in general can do that, but I can't. I wouldn't know how. But I could show you my wings," she added with a mischievous smile.
The three hobbits clamoured that she should. She stepped back, bowed her head a little and took a deep breath. Then, with a faint purple glow, there they were, sprouting inexplicably from her back. Shaped much like butterfly wings, shimmering semi-transparently in purple, blue and indigo.
The hobbits ooh'd and ah'd. Pippin reached out, but found that his fingers passed right through the delicate looking wing, which explained why they could sprout right through her clothes.
"Take me flying," pleaded Merry. "Please, just once. I've always dreamed of being able to fly."
"Oh, no. Elrond would be angry if he saw. He doesn't like me using them for no good reason. And I think he's right. Whatever reason I was given these wings for, it's not so I can amuse myself when I've nothing better to do and frighten the wits out of birds."
"Well," observed Sam dryly, "I guess none of us are wondering if you were really raised by elves."
A/N: I know what you're thinking. Really. A tenth member to the Fellowship. A female member. An immediate build-up of tension between her and Leggy. This positively reeks of Mary Sue. Yah. I know. I don't like that smell either. But this is the story I want to tell (having borrowed inspiration for my take on fairies from the animation picture 'Ferngully: The Last Rainforest' and from Traci Harding's breathtaking novel series 'The Ancient Future') and I am determined to fall into as few as possible of the traps Mary Sue has dug for us fanfiction writers. Do you know why we've given Mary Sue a name? Because it makes her easier to fight than a nameless foe. Also, there is a distinction to be made between Mary Sueish plots and Mary Sueish characterizations. I am aware of and will try to avoid both. But even so, neither makes a Mary Sue. It's the author's wishful identification with her own original character that does. And unconvincing as it may sound, I am not imagining myself to be Ceirin.
A/N 2: I've read the books and seen the movies several times, but I'm by no means an expert on Tolkien's canon. Also, I don't own copies of either the books or the movies, and therefore find myself in the impossibility to go and look up every detail. So if you notice anything that is flagrantly wrong, either forgive me and take it in stride, or let me know so I can fix it.