3. The Council of Elrond


By the time Aragorn, Ivy and the remaining three hobbits reached the borders of Rivendell, Frodo still remained fast asleep. News of his survival and continuous nourishment to health, thanks to Lord Elrond's efforts, was almost relief enough to bring Samwise down to his knees in joy and broke Aragorn's stoicism, morphing his worry lines into a large smile.

They were greeted and invited to the safety of Lord Elrond's halls in the dead of night, which they gladly accepted. Word had already been sent out and a secret council was to take place in one week.

Ivy had never set foot in an elven settlement before, merely observed them from a distance when her travels took her through the magic-infused woods of Lorien or the sombre realm of Mirkwood. Yet Rivendell, hidden deep in the valleys of the Misty Mountains and framed by the river Bruinen was all but foreign to her.

The moment her eyes set sight upon the beauty of this elven hall, time seemed to be brought to a halt. All of her studies of history and elven lore could not even begin to describe the splendour that she was witnessing and the woman bit back a smile.

'For once, I am truly grateful for this life. To have the chance to see the world, even with all its perils. Moments like these make it all worth the scars...'

It even escaped her notice when the hobbits were ushered away to be bathed and fed before sent off to their feathery beds for a good night's sleep. There is no rest for the wicked and the two scouts accompanying the ring bearer were notified that Lord Elrond wished their presence, before they, too, would be allowed to close their eyes and leave their worries behind for a number of hours.

Ivy noticed how Aragorn moved in this setting with ease, as if he was familiar with this place.

'No', She thought while sinking back a few steps, 'this goes beyond the familiarity of a few visits.'

No elf was accompanying them to Lord Elrond, even though there were plenty of them still up and about. They saw no need, and the pair had stopped more than once for Aragorn to exchange smiles and niceties in elven.

"Just who are you?" She demanded "You speak like one of them, you walk these halls like one who has been bred here, yet my eyes are looking upon a man."

The words sounded too much like accusations for her taste. They stood still in the open corridor, surrounded by the sounds of nocturnal insects and flowing water. Even in this situation Ivy found it hard to focus on Aragorn instead of their surroundings.

Elven architecture was beyond anything she could've ever imagined. The monumental building seemed to be perched on the side of a mountain, with numerous waterfalls surrounding the premises.

Stone archways, carefully carved statues of the legends from songs adorned the walls, flowers bloomed and smelt sweeter than any other – this place was built upon elven magic. No detail was left without notice and every nook and cranny seemed to serve a purpose.

The man in question took this chance to study the hunter before him. Lord Elrond's magic will not allow evil pass the borders of his halls, that should warrant some trust, but Aragorn was hesitant to reveal his true name to this woman, unknowing who this information might reach.

"I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn, lady Ivy. I was brought here when young and indeed, was raised amongst the elves." He confessed, but it hardly felt like a secret.

Here, Aragorn didn't feel the need to hide his origins, even if he wished to escape from it. The name rang a bell in her mind.

"Ranger of the north…the heir to the throne of Gondor." The words echoed her train of thought.

Long ago, before her training was completed, the Nameless tried to locate Isildur's heir, convinced that the rightful king of Gondor could do more good than a steward, but their efforts were fruitless. Having travelled with the ranger, it wasn't completely impossible that Aragorn had simply disappeared when necessary and thus avoided contact.

Aragorn nodded, recognising the titles as truth.

"Indeed, you speak no lies. As a sign of good faith may I ask you to keep this knowledge to yourself?" His voice betrayed no signs of anger or irritation, it was an honest request.

Gandalf wished to keep Aragorn's existence stowed away from the dark lord for his own safety, there was too much risk involved letting this information travel freely. The woman lowered her gaze respectfully.

"I understand the delicacy of this. Worry not, I'm here under no one's agenda but my own, and my decisions are entirely mine, regardless of my belonging to the brotherhood."

And with the exchange of a few simple lines a sort of understanding was formed between the two, akin to friendship. Aragorn was the first to break this moment, his senses returning to normal.

"Indeed, may we continue? It isn't wise to keep our host waiting, and no doubt you wish to dine and sleep as much as I."

He was uncomfortable under her scrutiny, and Ivy acknowledged that and decided to let the matter drop right now. There was a twinge of jealousy in the pit of her stomach, not because of Aragorn's heritage, but because he had a heritage.

Who was she? The only name given to her was Ivy, three measly letters to represent the thoughts and feelings of a being with no background to speak of.

She shook away this long forgotten urge and straightened up, attempting to keep some dignity despite their haggard appearances. They hadn't bathed in a week and their clothes were caked with dirt and sweat, and that was going to be this Lord's first impression of her. No, he will not care about appearances, and neither should I.

The thought powered her somewhat and vigour returned to her steps. Aragorn noticed the storm of emotions that passed over her face during the course of a few short moments with a stroke of amusement.

People always seemed to reveal their true thoughts and feelings in the halls of Imladris, the safety of these walls tearing down any defences that one might've put up, suddenly even the weapons she donned seemed less threatening. For Aragorn, this was home. Each smell and sound was familiar; he knew the palace like the back of his hand and…

The man's thoughts trailed to Arwen with an aching longing. Wherever she belonged, he would accept as home. News that his love had escaped the nine with no injuries had lifted an entire boulder from Aragorn's shoulders.

The man was unsure if he could live with the responsibility of having sent the elf to her early demise, but there was no more room in his mind for such ominous thoughts. They found Lord Elrond in his study, along with one more.

"Mithrandir!" exclaimed Aragorn in surprise, bowing his head in respect of the wizard, and his dear friend "My lord Elrond," acknowledged the future king "I thank you for welcoming us under your protection."

Ivy gaped at the two figures from the legends now standing in front of her. Lord Elrond was, to her knowledge, several thousand years old, yet his face showed little signs of aging and the man's long hair was still a vibrant brown, a stark contrast to the grey wizard. The woman had dealings with the wizard before over the course of nearly two decades, but those were merely brief encounters.

Remembering her manners, she quickly bowed.

"As do I, we've never met, but I suspect you've had dealings with my brothers and sisters in the past. Ivy of the Nameless, at your service."

Their words were met with kind smiles and an invitation for supper, and suddenly amongst this ancient elf with his flowing robes, Ivy's insecurities about her state of smell returned.

"You must be weary, we may dine while you share your account of what has happened." declared Elrond, leading Aragorn to the balcony with a light wave of his hand with Gandalf and Ivy following close behind.

"It has been years, has it not, lady Ivy? Last time we met you had just budded into adulthood." Said the old wizard jestingly, earning an earnest smile from the blonde woman which seemed to soften her features just a little bit.

"Your memory fares well, Grey Wizard, though all my travelling is done alone now."

The robed man, cheerfully smoking a pipe pulled out a chair for Ivy, a sign of curtsy she had not witnessed in a while.

"Then let's enjoy this encounter, despite the circumstances."

After weeks of sitting on tree stumps and wooden stools, the lightly cushioned chair felt like the Valar themselves were massaging her aching muscles as Ivy sank into the chair with an audible happy sigh. Aragorn was much more reserved in his relief, but cracked a smirk at the woman's display nevertheless.

Gandalf took a seat next to Elrond who looked like an elven prince under the bright moonlight with his intricate braids and solemn eyes, though the elf emitted nothing but kindness around him.

They were served a light dinner of roasted vegetables, nuts, honey and fruits, all washed down with fine elven wine. The pair accepted the food gladly and with humble thanks, dining in focused silence.

Elrond did not bring up more pressing matters until their bellies were full and some of their strength returned, asking for their separate recounts of the adventure. Aragorn motioned for Ivy to begin, out of politeness, and so she did.

She spoke about Isengard, the reports she had received from the east and what had driven her to chase the nazgul. There Gandalf interrupted her with a kind smile.

"I fear that your accomplice witnessed my escape from Saruman. He has betrayed us."

Aragorn and Ivy stared wide-eyed.

"This...how can this be? Saruman has always been a friend and ally." Her voice was barely a whisper as her body ached to send out word to the scouts.

If any one of them tried to make contact or attempt to 'rescue' the wizard from his orc captors...They needed to know.

"His mind has been poisoned and he has allied with the enemy."

There was no lie in Gandalf's eyes and the two rangers were left in their stupor. Saruman was renowned for his wisdom and great power, if someone as him could fall to darkness, what chance do the rest have? Ivy glanced between the two elders.

"Do you grant me permission to spread this information? I can't have any of our men or women even near that place."

"It would be wise to get word out as quickly as possible, but leave it to the morn." Elrond's words were final and left no room for argument.

In any other situation Ivy rarely hesitated to share news with her brethren, but this? The one ring, the heir of Isildur and Saruman succumbing to Sauron's will - those matters were way above any human's station.

"I will see it done, if you still have any of our ravens here, but let us continue."

So the time came for Aragorn to share his part of the tale, though Ivy would've loved to hear Gandalf's account of what had happened in Isengard. If the great eagle was there to save the wizard, then the only logical deduction was that he had been taken prisoner.

She listened with a tranquil expression how Aragorn had entered Bree and the events that took place in the Prancing Pony. He gave a brief overview of their travels and the attack at Weathertop. Lord Elrond grew grim at the mention of the morgul blade.

"The wound may heal, but Frodo will be forever scarred by the dark magic that touched him that night."

"Were it not for the brave heart of that elf, I don't think Frodo would've lived." Ivy voiced her praise, still unknowing that it was the daughter of Lord Elrond himself that had brought salvation to them that night.

The elf cast a pointed look towards Aragorn, who met it head on.

"You speak of Arwen, my only daughter."

This interaction was not missed by Ivy who had to bite back a smile at the protective father figure. Such high standards did this man have, if the heir to the throne of Gondor was not an acceptable suitor. Even a blind man could've seen the longing gazes those two had exchanged. And the way Aragorn had gripped the elf's fingers before letting her leave?

Gandalf chuckled into his beard gleefully.

"And quite an impressive feat of magic that she accomplished. I wish I could've been there to bear witness."

Ivy sat forward in her seat, looking for answers in the faces of the men around her,

"Do tell." She urged on the old wizard, her enthusiasm breaking the grim mask of Lord Elrond who seemed to beam like a proud father, though he tried to suppress it.

"She brought down the wrath of the river, washing away all the wraiths that were chasing her. I doubt they'll recover any time soon."

Ivy was filled with new discovered awe. To think that this fair, delicate woman wasn't a pampered piece of fluff, but a real warrior, one powerful enough to stare down the nine. She bit back the urge to blow a whistle.

"Remind me never to irritate her."

The air seemed to grow significantly lighter as they put dark matters behind for the time being and the prospect of a bath didn't seem far off.

"You have several days to rest easy, while our allies gather here from the corners of the world," announced Elrond "there's to be a meeting to decide the fate of Middle Earth."

Somehow the elf showed remarkable talent at returning to unpleasant topics, or perhaps it was the world that was taking an unpleasant turn.

Ivy nodded, deciding then and there to be a part of it. If not invited, she'd just sneak her way in, but hopefully that was not the case.

"You mentioned rest?" She noted, holding up a finger in a weak attempt to draw attention "Is there any chance I could visit a bath before that, since we're already exploiting the many comforts of your house?"


The days passed in a whirl for all travelers. Frodo awoke the day after the arrival of Aragorn and Ivy, the latter had found not one but five ravens of the Nameless in Rivendell and quickly utilised four of them. They traded blades and tainted travel clothes for soft velvet and silks, all thanks to the consideration of Lord Elrond.

Each day stranger guests arrived to Rivendell, a mixture of foreigners these halls had never witnessed. Elves from Mirkwood, the dwarves of Erebor, men from Gondor - this was the gathering of races.

Even the tranquility of Rivendell couldn't quite erase the tensions that were up. Ivy had heard of the hostility of dwarves and elves, but to see it first hand was quite something else.

The dwarves spoke their harsh language, a stark contrast to the song-like elven, casting glances at the Mirkwood elves while the latter pretended not to notice, but both sides refused to speak the common tongue to avoid misunderstandings. One thing that stuck out was the way one of the older dwarfs behaved towards a blond elven man. Deciding that the dwarf was less scarier of the two, Ivy decided to question about what drew forth such a strong display of verbal onslaught.

The dwarf, Gloin as he introduced himself, snorted through the thick and magnificent beard that could've easily been tucked into his belt.

"That woodland sprite once imprisoned me and my kin." And that was all the explanation he offered.

Ivy couldn't get enough of the wonders of Lord Elrond's home. To discover that so many connected to the quest to reclaim Erebor were present was one thing, but to stumble upon the hero of the first age, Glorfindel was nothing short of breathtaking.

Yet the days of peace couldn't last much longer. Her blades were sharpened and her travel gear washed. On the morn of the council Ivy dressed in dark blue from head to toe, the colours of the brotherhood, leaving her crest proudly glinting on her chest, before departing to the courtyard.

This wing of Elrond's halls had been purposefully emptied for that day and in a circular courtyard a number of chairs were laid out in a circle around a stone table, the largest and most elaborate one left for the Lord of the house. Ivy wasn't surprised to discover that she was the only woman here.

'Oh great, another bunch of men I have to prove myself to.'

The brightly lit courtyard was basked in the golden glow of the sun shining through the leaves that shielded them. Though it did little to dispell the evil that was amongst them.

She was pleased to discover that she wasn't the last one to arrive, and a seat to Aragorn's right was still available. With her head held high she walked across the stone floor, proudly ignoring the stares and baffled whispers of the lords around her, sitting next to the ranger.

She was no damsel in a flowing dress, but a Nameless with the brotherhood's dagger gleaming on her hip. The pommel was decorated with their sigil and in the end glinted a dark blue sapphire.

"Well," She breathed, "you look extremely uncomfortable in finery."

The jab was enough to earn a smile from Aragorn who was trying to keep his demeanour serious.

"Uncomfortable perhaps, but smells better than leathers worn for a week." The retort made her bite back a bark of laughter.

Ivy gazed around, her features making her appear wild.

"They don't think a woman belongs here," She noticed one of the elves eyeing the crest hanging around her neck pointedly "...and they don't seem to particularly approve my affiliations."

Aragorn turned to the woman, grasping her shoulder in a gesture of assurance.

"You have proven your prowess as a warrior and a survivor, that's what matters and if need be I will vouch for you."

A feeling of warmth spread in her chest and Ivy nodded, unsure how to convey just how much Aragorn's words had meant. The elven prince seemed to calm his suspicions just a fraction at the display, and it didn't escape Ivy's attention. Acquaintances? Or perhaps even friends?

At last arrived Gandalf and Frodo, accompanied by Lord Elrond. Ivy flashed a welcoming smile to Frodo, as he was as foreign in this council as was she. Their eyes met and the hobbit seemed to draw courage from this, answering with a resolute nod.

All eyes were focused on Elrond, as he greeted everyone on the council, declaring the true purpose of their gathering, his tone only emphasising the significance of the coming events. Now was the time to cast aside all racial prejudice. Frodo looked ready to jump out of his skin when the tall elf turned to him.

"Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Everyone grew eerily silent, waiting in anticipation as Frodo walked to the stone pedestal and placed upon in the One Ring, a simple golden band. As soon as it had left his possession he seemed to visibly relax as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. All eyes were turned to the ring or power, now so innocently in front of them. Was this little ring truly the source of so much despair?

Ivy couldn't take her eyes off of it. Was there really no way to...use this ring for good? It was faint in the air, but it almost felt like there were whispers coming from the ring, beckoning her.

Ivy jumped when Aragorn flicked her arm, drawing her attention away from the ring, but broken eye contact was all she needed. The woman stared into his eyes, frightened of her own thoughts and her heart hammering against her ribcage.

Ivy was, for lack of a better word, ashamed. How could she be drawn to the lure of the ring so easily? There wasn't time to wallow in self-pity for another caught her eye. A man of Gondor, finely dressed and obviously the highest ranking in their bunch, was up and walking about. Sounds returned to the world and Ivy was finally able to focus enough to listen,

"Isildur's bane is found…"

His voice trailed off and his hand reached forth for the ring. Ivy shot a concerned look to Gandalf and Elrond, her mind screaming for them to do something.

"Boromir!" warned Elrond who had leaped to his feet, but a more threatening presence made itself known.

Dark clouds seemed to form as Gandalf the Grey stood tall and dangerous, uttering words in a language so foul that it seemed to zap power from a human's limbs.

Lord Elrond was nearly slumped in his chair as if the words physically hurt him, the Mirkwood elves fared only slightly better, but it was enough to break Boromir's daze and send him taking steps backwards.

And then it was over. Elrond's face held both shock and anger and for the first time Ivy was terrified of the elf.

"Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"

The skies cleared, and Gandalf was back to his usual mannerisms.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond."

Ivy held back a snort.

'You damn well should.'

"For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West."

"The ring is alltogether evil," He finished, finally resuming his position.

Yet Boromir was not done, he tried to convince the council to take the ring to Gondor and use it against Sauron. It was only then that Ivy found her strength to speak up, her pride refusing to listen to such folly any longer.

"While I admire your patriotism, do you honestly believe that anyone here can wield the ring in which Sauron poured all of his cruelty? And to top it off let us drag it right to his doorstep? How about we send a messenger as well, to let him know when exactly we'll be arriving?"

She stood tall, facing the captain from Gondor head on, the challenge evident in her icy eyes. Over my dead body, said her appearance. A few whispers began, and Aragorn joined her voice.

"I agree with the Nameless, you can't wield it. No one here has control of this evil."

The mention of this organisation sent another wave of hushed whispers and Ivy felt every pair of eyes upon her.

Boromir was no exception, eyeing the ranger and the woman with distaste.

"And what would two nomads know of such matters?" He retaliated with wounded pride.

The elven prince stood sharply, confirming Ivy's suspicions. They're very close friends, and have been for a long time.

"This is no mere ranger you're speaking to. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and heir to the throne of Gondor."

It was a blessing that Frodo wasn't holding anything fragile, for he would've dropped it or crushed it in surprise of this revelation. Strider had been a mystery, but the thought that it was Isildur's heir protecting him hadn't crossed his mind.

Ivy noticed with pleasure how much effect those words had on Boromir, his eyes filled with disbelief. Aragorn held up his hand, saying something in elvish to the prince of Mirkwood that caused the latter to sit back down. Boromir slumped back into his seat, clearly distraught.

"Gondor has no king, Gondor needs no king." His voice was full of scorn, such that it sent another bout of anger flowing through Ivy's body.

"Does Gondor also follow no laws? Who are you to deny the throne to the rightful heir?" She barked at the man, her voice rising just enough to be noticeable.

"Ivy!" said Aragorn in a low-voice, ushering the woman to drop the matter.

The Nameless will rather remove opposition than deny the rightful king his throne, just as they will remove a madman from rule. Gandalf stepped in before this turned into a full-out verbal onslaught.

"Aragorn and Ivy are right, we cannot use it."

The woman released a humourless laugh.

"Which leaves us with only one option...To destroy it."

She sat down back in her seat, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. A young dwarf jumped to his feet eagerly.

"What are we waiting for then?" He growled and charged forward, bringing his great axe down upon the ring.

It shattered, much to their horror, the force throwing the dwarf on his back. His kin rushed to help him up and it seemed that he was unharmed, while Ivy noticed Frodo gripping his head, as if the attack had been hurled at him. The ring's whispering grew louder at this, as if the force it bore was angered by this insolence.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom and there it can be unmade. The ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fires from whence it came."

Silence fell upon the courtyard, as the gravity of Elrond's words became clear.

"One of you must do this."

Boromir was the first to break the silence, voicing Ivy's thoughts.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. There is more behind those black gates than just orcs, and the Great Eye is always awake, watchful. Even with ten thousand men at your back this quest is folly."

Legolas jumped to his feet, protesting, and from there on all hell broke lose as one race tried to outscream one another. Old wounds were torn open and Ivy found herself trying to break the verbal duel of dwarves and elves - a task that could compare with destroying the ring itself. The council caved into chaos, but her ears picked up a familiar voice.

"I will take it!"

The woman stopped and turned at the hobbit, arms dropping to her side. No one but her picked up the hobbit's words so he repeated them, louder and with more confidence, his doubts disappearing.

"I will take it!"

Silence fell as Frodo was met with looks of disbelief. Gandalf closed his eyes and it seemed as if he was praying. Frodo had carried it this far, but to willingly agree to take it to Mordor? That was a burden even Ivy didn't want to shoulder, lest she succumbed to the temptation of the ring.

"I will take the ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way."

Gandalf smiled gently at the hobbit, the small creatures never ceased to surprise him.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long it is yours to bear."

The old man took the hobbit's side, gripping his shoulder. Aragorn was the second one to stand and he strode to Frodo, lowering himself on one knee.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Gandalf and Elrond exchanged smiles, this display of loyalty feeding new hope to them. The prince of Mirkwood could not let his friend face these perils alone and he joined the ever growing group.

"And you have my bow."

"And my axe," said the young dwarf.

'You just smashed your axe.' Thought the rogue with mild amusement.

Ivy stood from her seat, firm in her beliefs, drawing eyes upon herself as she stepped up to Frodo.

"Duty drove me to see you to safety, I can not abandon you now. My sword is here to serve you, and the Nameless Ones will lend their power."

She stood behind Frodo and Ivy caught sight of Boromir joining the group, his eyes lingering on them for a mere moment.

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

This man was so proud of his kingdom, his heritage, his...origins, there was a strange appeal to it in Ivy's eyes.

A hobbit burst forward from the bushes, running forward.

"Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" He declared with a stout heart.

Lord Elrond seemed to withhold his laughter.

"No indeed, as it seems that it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Oi! We're coming too!" cried out another fair voice.

Elrond's head whipped around, astonished at how the hobbits had managed to slip in unnoticed, as Merry and Pippin ran out from behind two pillars.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us." Threatened Merry, his tone firm.

Pippin continued on,

"You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest…" a pause "...thing." He finished lamely.

Ivy couldn't hold back the unladylike snort of laughter. To say something like this to a being who is over thousands of years old? Priceless.

"Well that rules you out, Pip." retorted Merry.

Elrond looked upon them with pride. There was still hope left in this world to combat the doom that was upon them.

"So be it, you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great!" exclaimed Pippin before confusion took over "Where are we going?"

Ivy was not the only one who, by now, was probably biting the insides of her cheeks to blood in a futile attempt to hide her giggles. Were they seriously bringing all four hobbits along?

Boromir was the first to speak up.

"We have no time to look after a woman during this trip."

Before Aragorn could open his mouth to retort a defense for Ivy, the woman had whipped around, eyes narrowed.

"You listen carefully, Boromir of Gondor," She muttered, hands placed upon her hips "I was raised in the ranks of the Nameless Ones, bred to fight since I was five. Don't you dare lump me in the same heap with your soft, silky damsels that squeak at the sight of a mouse!"

Boromir's eyes flickered to the dagger strapped to her hip, taking a wary step back to get away from the rage that oozed out from the woman. Aragorn stepped in, in some faint hope to lighten this tension.

"I was fighting by her side when we encountered five of the nazgul, and she is every bit a worthy warrior as any of us here."

His words seemed to make enough impression that whatever protests were left died down.

Ivy sighed.

"Look, we'll need to trust one another on this long journey. Trust me when I say this - I can guard your back."

She extended her hand, as a sign of peace. Boromir looked at it for a long moment, before gripping it firmly as they put their quarrels at rest.

Frodo smiled at this display as tensions seemed to dissolve.

"A fellowship indeed…" He mused.

Ivy looked down at the hobbits before grinning.

"Come along now, I'm sure Lord Elrond will throw a nice parting feast. This will be the last decent meal we'll get in a while!"

The newly found fellowship stayed behind, making polite introductions while the council dissolved. Who would've thought that the fate of Middle-Earth was destined to be in the hands of a hobbit?

So it began.


And now comes the real challenge of nailing all the characters of the fellowship...I do warn you that my university exams are coming up during the next two weeks so I might be quiet for a while, but I hope to finish the next chapter before my last exam.

Much thanks to Oakenshield's Star for their quick and amazing beta-powers. Don't forget to follow, favourite and/or review 3

Enjoy your new year's eve, hopefully 2017 won't kill off all of my favourite celebrities. Much love, party hard!

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