CLAIM: All Lord of the Rings original characters, and Middle Earth belong to the great author and professor J.R.R. Tolkien. Some dialogue was taken directly from the movie script.

NOTES: Anything said in Elvish will be in italics. The translation will be next to it, in regular text format.


Chapter One:

The Last Homely House


"Come now, we have not the time for folly," I said, looking back to the horse and rider behind me.

"I've trekked this mountain at least as many times as you've had your birthday. But I am not sure, would you care to enlighten me?" The witty prince retorted.

"Are you enquiring to a lady's birthday?" I asked, the least bit amused.

"No, just probing a hint." He replied.

"How old are you?" My tone did not leave the flat pitch I maintained it in.

"I've stopped counting. In between the ranges of 3,000 and 5,000." He answered.

I had to chuckle. "Than your hint is that I am the same."

"How is that a hint?"

"You'd have to guy for the exact number."

He was silent. I hope it wasn't because he was actually trying to guess, because I have half the mind to know myself.

After moments of quiet, I spoke up.

"The sun sets in the East, we must hasten."

I heard the prince urge his steed into a fast gallop, and I was right behind him. We were nearing our destination. Rivendell, the Last Homely House. The King of the woodland realm, Thranduil had sent out a notice to anyone he was trusting to lead his prince to Rivendell. I had not an idea why, since the prince was a deadly fighter, and had made his way up to Rivendell many a time before. It was a grand sum, the offer he was giving out. My mother had been asked if I would be the guide.

I knew why they wanted me, too. My father used to work in the court of the king, so naturally they would pick someone trustful and of the law. I didn't want to go, but dear mother took the opportunity as I would have, too.

In my thoughts, we had gotten closer to the great elven city. Two guards stood at the end of the bridge. We slowed our horses to a trot as we crossed the bridge. The hooves tapped on the rich marble. Waterfalls roared in the nook of mountains that Rivendell resided in. It was a beautiful site, for sure. The guards stopped us. The prince dismounted his horse. He stood at least five inches over the guards.

"Legolas Greenleaf, of the woodland realm." He spoke loud and clear.

The guards nodded towards me.

"My guide," Legolas announced.

I dismounted my horse, looking around at the Last Homely House's serenity, the city I've heard of only in tales. The legends and songs surely could not capture the greatness.

The guards showed their approval by stepping aside to let us pass. We walked our horses in, and two maids already came to take our horses and put them in the stables. Another two maids came to show us to our rooms. It was dark out, and the moon shown in a crescent, and the stars winked at us from a million and two leagues away. It was the start of a new year, spring time. The snow had not yet melted from the mountains and blizzards still blew high on their peaks.

Back in Mirkwood, everything was thawing. Though every morning it had to start anew from the cold night's frost, it was awakening from its shiver. Birds sang and animals poked out of their dens. The sun shone brightly during the daytime, and the forest was a symphony for spring time.

The kind maid opened the door to my room, and I nodded my thanks. Legolas's room was down the hall from mine. I stepped inside the room and closed the door behind me. A wave of fatigue rushed over me, and I dropped all my things at the foot of the bed. I had travelled lightly, with only a satchel to carry my things, a quiver full of arrows I sharpened, and the bow I had received from my father when I was young.

It was a long bow, with my name imprinted into the fine polished oak in Elvish. Every day I don't even have to think to read the words. It flows freely on my lips. I can't say I dislike my name. Amarea Yesse, which means dawn beginning. I like people to call me just Amarea, however.

I slipped on a nightgown, and got into bed. The songs of the elves below rang out and mixed like a choir. They were celebrating the New Year. I looked up at the ancient ceilings. The stars outside the window all started to whisper their stories, young and old, all of a million years ago at the beginning of all things. Soon sleep took me, and I dreamed a white stallion, strong and proud riding through a field. Untamed beauty.

I woke up calmly, as the dawn rose and the sun waved hello to the world beyond the mountain. Today was the council of Elrond, as I had been informed. I was to go, since I was a guide to Legolas. I had packed with me a blue gown. On my body it looked like the sea, with deep, soft blues and foamy greens. I tied russet-brown hair into a long braid down my back. A knock at my door. I rushed to open it. The prince I had accompanied to Rivendell was standing outside the door. He had his mind on other things, I saw it right away in his eyes. I asked no questions.

"Good morning, my lord." I said, quickly.

"Good morning." Legolas replied. "Are you ready?"

Ready?

"Oh, yes." I said, remembering again that the council was being held today.

I followed him down the corridors and out to a walkway. The sun was not only bright, but warm. A large, open structure stood in the middle of the garden where the council was being held. I took my seat next to Legolas and looked over the crowd. Elves, men, dwarves and hobbits. Lord Elrond spoke, announcing the meeting.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. 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. Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

The small hobbit, Frodo, brought forth the powerful, and malicious ring of legend. Everyone seemed to hold their breath. The tales were true.

"So it is true. In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'The doom is near at hand, Isildur's Bane is found.'" A man to my far left had said. He reached for the ring, but one of his companions stopped him.

"Boromir!" The other man called.

I'm learning these names quickly.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him." Boromir defended his actions.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. It answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." The other man said.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir scoffed.

I felt something move next to me. Legolas had stood to speak.

"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." He was almost yelling. His voice rang out with no quiver or mistake.

"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked, amazed.

They obviously knew each other, just not in a good way. I have heard of Aragorn, declining his rightful throne.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor!" Legolas spat at the stupid man.

"Legolas, sit down." Aragorn ordered. Ordering around the prince of the woodland realm? Aragorn might be king of Gondor, but not king of us.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." Boromir said.

The old wizard to my right spoke, finally ending the stupid man's protest. Good old Mithrandir. I have met him once.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." In sixty years, the wizard has not changed.

"We have only one choice. The Ring has must be destroyed." Elrond said.

"Then what are we waiting for?" The dwarf to my left said. He raised his axe over his head and brought it down on the Ring. The impact left not a scratch to the small band of gold on the pedestal, but had chipped the axe and sent the dwarf flying.

Dwarves are the other stupid race. I know not of hobbits, yet.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here own. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. The ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." Elrond said. There was no temper, nor annoyance to his voice.

Gimli, son of Gloin. He I have heard of, also. His father was with the band of dwarves that came through Mirkwood, the one time I met Gandalf. The company of Thorin. They woke a dragon, could you believe it?

"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. The great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly." Boromir said.

"The only folly is you wasting your breath on pointless words. Lord Elrond has probably already pondered this." I stood. The fine lady speaks at last.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas stood with me.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" Gimli asked, scornfully.

"It would be better than in the hands of a filthy dwarf!" I defended my prince.

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir, at it again.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf! Never trust an Elf!" The dwarf bellowed.

The crowd erupts in argument, and though I would to the end fight with the prince of the woodland realm, I found no need to dispute. I watched and listened intensively, hearing yelling of all sides. The small hobbit Frodo stands.

"I will take it!" He cries, his brow furrowed in worry.

The crowd doesn't hear him.

"Frodo has something to say!" I yelled over the crowd.

Everyone turned to look at me, and I repeat myself with boldness.

"Frodo has something to say." I said, turning towards the young hobbit.

Frodo looked around, all eyes now on him.

"I will take the Ring into Mordor," He said with more confidence. "Though, I do not know the way…"

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." The old wizard said. He had a weary look, but the gleam in his eye had not yet ceased to shine.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." Aragorn said, walking towards the hobbit. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." Legolas said, walking towards the group.

I looked at Legolas with horror. Now I have to go, to adventure, to death even. For how much money? Not enough! I huffed in a silent pout.

"And my bow also. My honor is at your dispense." I said, joining the rest. I almost dug my elbow into the prince's royal side.

"And my axe." Gimli said, proudly standing in front of Legolas and me.

By the Valar! Now the dwarf's going. Luck we need, and lots of it.

"You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." Boromir said, approaching us.

Oh, help us! Now the stupid human is with us.

"Hey!" A little voice cried out. Another hobbit jumped out of the bushes and bumbled towards us. "Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!"

A smile shown on Elrond's lips. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

I couldn't help but smile at the small hobbit's loyalty.

"Wait! We're coming, too!" Two more hobbit jumped out from behind the pillars.

Four hobbits. Grand!

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" One said.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing." The other exclaimed.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip." The one who spoke first joked.

"Nine companions, so be it! You shall be known as the Fellowship of the Ring." Elrond mused.

"Great! Where are we going?" The hobbit known as Pip said.

I shook my head, and I'm sure others did also. The council had been dissmissed, and I'm sure Pip was not discouraged that his question was not answered.


Later that evening, I was sitting on a bench in the garden, a closed book to my side. I was watching evening turn to nighttime. The soft oranges and reds melted into the dark night. Stars once again sang their songs as the birds retired to their nests to sleep with the day. I closed my eyes to listen to nature's nocturnal harp.

"What are you doing?" I heard a voice.

My eyes snapped open. Legolas stood over me, and I looked up at his face.

"I was reading," I replied, motioning my head towards the book to my left.

The prince took up the book and opened it to the first page.

"Written all in Elvish." He stated. "Quenyan. That is not the language of the woodland realm."

"I am aware," I said, feeling defensive wrinkles in my nose.

"Soron i ambaron-ello. Eagle of the East?" He questioned.

"A story of my ancestors." I said, snatching the book away from him.

He sat down next to me.

"What were you really doing?"

"If you truly must know I was listening to the stars." I said, sensing how foolish that sounded.

"What do they have to say?" Legolas asked, his voice tender.

I looked at him. "Well, I…" Stuttering?

"What are they saying? Tell me their stories." He said.

I couldn't help but smile.

"The stars are memories. These were the stars of the waking earth. They aren't shining here, they are shining on our ancestors, leading their way through history."

"That is true," He said, a twinkle in his eye.

"I couldn't speak any other. Lies are not a virtue."

He smiled. "That is right. You are a good character. Stay that way."

"Goodnight." I said, and I felt a blush. I only hoped he didn't see it as I walked to my room with the blessing of the stars.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi! Thank you for reading this fanfiction. I would really appreciate it if you left a comment about if you liked it or not. I do accept harsh criticism, any criticism is very welcome, and needing. Thanks again, and I'll try to get chapter two up tomorrow!