One by one we file into the courtyard, a solemn trial of Elves, Men, and Dwarves; there is another, whose race I know not. A young dwarf, perhaps? Beardless, armorless, and weaponless he sits a pensive and strange enigma. I am drawn to him, his youth and small stature make him curious to behold…yet for all his innocence, I sense a great evil there.
I sit between my own brethren and the Man I know is rightful heir and king of men: Aragorn, son of Arathorn.
"Have you guessed the identity of our mystery guest?" My friend smiles slyly.
"A young dwarf, I would say," I return slowly. "But it is not right. It is a hobbit." I realize taking another look at the curious creature. "Like Baggins."
"More so than you may know." He says with significance. "He is Frodo Baggins of the Shire. Bilbo's nephew."
A man from the South passes between us, the deep crimson of his sleeves and the emblem on the cuffs attest to his birth and stature - so unlike my friend.
"And does he too, go Unseen?" But the fleeting humor passes quickly. His gaze is troubled, cautionary, his eyes follow the Southerner perhaps unconsciously, and it speaks a dire warning to my heart.
I continue to watch this man taking in his every move; he seems must like every other of his kind at first sight…proud, naïve and headstrong…I am pulled out of my thoughts by the voice of Lord Elrond.
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Elrond begins. "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." He finishes, gesturing to the pedestal.
I am greatly surprised by his words, though Lord Elrond is among the wisest of elves I do not believe it wise to revile the ring of power; not while amongst a group of those who we know very little of.
The young hobbit approaches the pedestal, tentatively, placing the ring upon it. Once his task is complete Frodo quickly moves back to his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the many eyes that are upon him.
It is a simple golden ring, not very intricate, yet it holds great power… and immense evil. It is not to be looked upon as a mere trinket, for in this ring is the fate of us all is held.
"So it is true…" the man from the South says from across the circle. He has his chin resting upon his hand, his eyes glued to the ring. Aragorn is right to be wary of this man for it appears to me as if the ring has already begun to entrap him in its spell.
The council sits in silence for a moment while each member takes a moment to look upon the ring; the silence is broken by the same man who had spoken before.
He stands, looks around for a second making sure he has our attention and then begins to speak, "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand.'" He approaches the ring, one outstretched hand hovering just over it, "Isildur's Bane is found."
As he reaches for the ring Elrond stands up from his seat, "Boromir, sit." He commands before reseating himself. This Boromir is brave to attempt to touch the enemy's ring, yet he is blinded by its sheer evil.
Boromir does as he was asked but even this does not silence him, "It is a gift…a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, 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!" He finishes his eyes ablaze.
Though I understand that Gondor, Boromir's homeland, takes the brunt force of Sauron's attack I have no sympathy for him, for he does not realize that the ring would take over his mind, even his very soul, turning him into something evil and wicked. The ring would twist his heart until there is naught left but hate and a lust for war.
The ring is a vile thing, it cannot be given to a mere man…the havoc it could cause to Middle Earth's free kingdoms would be catastrophic.
Aragorn, understanding this too, stands up his fists clenched as he speaks, "You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."
"And what would a mere ranger know of this matter?" Boromir sneers. Who is this man who dares to speak to Aragorn, the rightful heir to Gondor, in such a way?
"This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." I reply drawing myself up to full height.
Boromir turns toward Aragorn, "Aragorn?" Boromir questions a look of suspicion and anger fills his eyes. "This…is Isildur's heir?"
"And heir to the throne of Gondor." I finish my jaw set.
"Havo dad, Legolas," Aragorn commands. I follow his command for I have no more to say, though still greatly angered by the words Boromir has spoken; I take my seat. Aragorn is a good friend of mine and I do not suffer lightly those who speak ill of him.
"Gondor has no king! Gondor needs no king!" Boromir spits before returning to his seat.
All is silent for a moment before Mithrandir speaks, "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."
"You have only one choice." Elrond says his eyes sweeping over each of us. "The ring must be destroyed."
"Then what are we waiting for?" A dwarf asks springing to his feet, axe already raised. How foolish be the Dwarves! This naive mountain-dweller, miser and miner of riches- how assuming he is to believe his people posses the power to destroy the Ring of power.
He is short in stature, not but a head taller than the Halflings. His fiery red hair and beard stretch far past his detailed belt which is fastened around his rather large middle.
As he nears the pedestal he raises his axe over his head bringing it down upon the ring...and yet with a defining crack it is the dwarf's axe and the stone dais, not the ring that splits.
The dwarf's eyes grow wide as the realization sinks in, this ring holds such immense power that the object that is meant to destroy it will be hard and dangerous to come by. I try in vain to think of such places in Middle-earth that hold enough power to destroy a ring such as this…Smaug is dead, last of the Dragons, and the High Elves long since have vanished over the sea, their secrets with them.
"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that anyone 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." Elrond says looking directly at Gimli as he spoke. "One of you must do it."
There is a silence, cold and bleak…it appears no one knows exactly how to respond to what Elrond has just told us. As this news settles in my heart I begin to feel ill at ease. Looking around at everyone who sits among this Council I realize one of them, if not I, will be giving their life to save Middle-earth.
It is not till many minutes later that Boromir - the rash man that he is-breaks the silence, "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!" He says.
Frustrated with Boromir I stand and look him straight in the eyes as I begin to speak, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed!" I yell bringing my fist down upon the pedestal. My heart is racing and my breathing is heavier than usual. I hold back more harsh words knowing it would not be proper to speak such things.
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" The dwarf asks entering an argument he knows nothing of.
"What do you know of such a matter?" I spit as the Dwarf stomps toward me.
"I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli bellows. "Never trust an elf!"
"Never trust an elf? If any race is not to be trusted here it is yours. I know of what Sauron offered to the Dwarves. You care for not but gold and yourselves! " I yell.
What if the Dwarves took what Sauron had to offer, are they working for him...spying on the Council? If so we have fallen into their trap, they know where the ring is; my heart begins to race at the mere thought. As these thoughts continue to race through my mind I hold my kinsmen back, wanting nothing more than to shoot the dwarf for his arrogance, but I know I mustn't. We will need to work together if the ring is to be destroyed...but..."I will take it!"
It is unheard by most but not to me, I hear the young hobbit's quiet voice from across the courtyard. Few turn but not enough, Frodo speaks again, this time louder..."I will take it!" He now has everyone attention.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though – I do not know the way." The Halfling says looking around. Frodo is brave to take up such a journey and I can see the fear in his eyes for young though he may be, he too understands the price that must be paid to get the ring to Mordor.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf says placing his hands reassuringly on Frodo's shoulders.
"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword." Aragorn promises. As he walks over to stand with Fordo and Gandalf thousands of thoughts rush through my mind.
If I am to go I will be leaving everything I know behind…I will be going to my death but in that I will be fighting to save my home, and the home of many others. Also I think of Alya, my betrothed.
Yet quickly do I push these thoughts from my mind. I understand the road will be dangerous, yet I feel it only right to protect the young ring bearer, both for the sake of all Middle-Earth...and those that I love.
"And you have my bow," I say standing up to join the small group that is forming in the middle of the courtyard.
"And my axe." Gimli says quickly after, clearly not wanting to be upstaged by an Elf. I eye him suspiciously as he strides over to join our group; I do not fully trust him.
"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 says walking toward us. His reasons for choosing to journey with us were unknown to me, maybe he understood that this was the will of the council or maybe, his mind still clouded by the power of the ring, he feels he will someway be able to obtain is and use it.
Stepping aside I allow Boromir to stand next to Aragorn, for he owes him his allegiance...that is how it is meant to be
The council meeting had ended many hours ago yet I had not gone to see Alya for I have not found a proper way to go about informing her I must leave. I now understand the dream I have been having for some time now...Alya with her hair pillowing in the wind, tears streaming down her face.
She will be broken, completely lost in a world that is not meant for those who do not know their way…my only hope is that in my absence she will not die of despair or leave with the rest of her kin for the Undying lands.
It is much later when I meet up with Alya, one that I had pushed from my mind while at the council. I will have to leave her, for though she is a strong fighter and braver than many men, she belongs in Rivendell where it is safe and she will not be harmed.
"Alya, I must tell you something," I start.
She turns to me, tears swelling up in her eyes, "I have heard of the Fellowship but not who will be part of it…Legolas please put my heart to rest and tell me you are not one of the nine." She says softly as she begins to sob.
"I must go Alya…it is my duty as the Prince of Mirkwood to accompany the hobbit on this journey. You must understand." I say moving closer to her.
"Don't," she says as I reach out to take her hand, "for I could not bear to know that this touch might be the very last." At that she leaves me.
As I watch her leave my heart sinks…the pain and anguish she will experience while I am away has already started to take its toll. After a moment's hesitation I run after her, for this will be our last night together and I wish not to leave it on such a bad note.
Dashing down the halls of Rivendell I catch up with Alya. I reach my hand out and grab hers; she instantly stops.
"Legolas, I can't…" She says turning to face me.
With out hesitation I press my lips to hers, for I wish for just a minute of silence where everything appears right in the world, this is that moment.
I pull away and look Alya in the eyes; I gather her in my arms stroking her hair.
"Please do not leave me." She whispers her voice small.
I take in a breath and let it out slowly before speaking, "It is my duty I must go."
"I do not understand." She states, resting her head on my chest, her fist curling around a lock of my hair. It is in this moment I forget that Alya was alive the last time the ring was to be destroyed, for she is vulnerable, confused and very much like an infant.
"You will understand in time." I say.
"Very well," She replies taking hold of my hand, her slender fingers feeling like nothing in my grasp.
She leads me back to the court yard we have just come from. Once we are seated I begin to explain.
It is early the next morning, quite a while before the sun is to rise that I leave Alya to prepare for the long journey ahead of me.
"Goodbye Alya, may you remain joyous in these great times of sorrow." I say kissing her cheek as she lies sleeping.
I walk slowly to the door glancing back at her many a time. Once I reach the door I take my last look; Alya is still sleeping peacefully her hand curled into a ball resting right under her chin, the other arm sprawled out across the bed. The strands of hair that I had tucked behind her ear earlier fall covering her face. I close my eyes and turn around fighting the urge to go and re-tuck them, 'it is your duty' I remind myself before shutting her bed chamber door.
My heart feels for her, for it will be her, and not I that will be the most brutally hit by my leave, for I will have the journey to preoccupy my mind, while Alya will not. As I walk down the corridor I continue to battle my feelings, for in my heart I wish to stay with her and live happily while in my mind I know I am doing what is right..."Navaer Alya, I will miss you."
Havo dad, Legolas – Sit down Legolas.
Navaer- Farwell
