Chapter Three: Rivendell and the Council
The five arrived at Rivendell just past nightfall three days after Lady Arwen had taken Frodo. Through thoroughly exhausted, Sam immediately sought out the injured Hobbit. Both Merry and Pippin sat down on the stairs in front of the castle and, leaning against each other, fell asleep.
A small group of Elves, led by Elrond and Arwen, swept down the gleaming steps in long, glorious robes.
"Welcome," Lord Elrond said in Elvish, his arms spread. "Long have we waited for your arrival."
Strider bowed, as did Whisper. "Our road was faced with challenges, Lord Elrond."
The Elf lord nodded. "So I've heard." He motioned with one hand to the unconscious Hobbits, and two Elves quickly scooped them up and carried them to a set of rooms.
"If I may beg your pardon, My Lord," Whisper said, bowing again, "I shall retire to my quarters." She stood, awaiting dismissal.
"Of course." Elrond gave her a short smile. "We shall speak tomorrow."
Bowing her head again, Whisper handed the reins of her mare to the stable hand and hurried up the stairs, feeling the dull ache in her muscles. She walked along the corridors, her hood still drawn, her knee-high boots clicking on the stone floor. The sound echoed in the hallways.
As she neared her rooms, the two Elves, Ishtara and Elindia, who had carried the two Hobbits, approached her. "Whisper," Ishtara curtsied before the Ranger. "We placed the little ones in the room next to yours."
Whisper smiled wearily. "Thank you," she said as the two Elves walked off. Sighing, she walked the last few yards to her chambers and quickly shut the door behind her. Stifling a yawn, she removed her cloak and laid it across the chest that lay at the foot of her bed. Sitting in an elegantly carved wooden chair, she removed her boots, stretching out her feet in her woolen stockings. Still sitting, she unlaced the red-brown leather vest that served as light body armor.
Clad only in a light blue, long-sleeved silk shirt, dark brown (almost black) breeches, and her stockings, she unbraided her hair as she walked through the adjacent door into the bathing chambers. Someone had already filled the large copper tub with steaming water for her. She smiled, thankful for the consideration. She was looking forward to a long, hot bath.
The next morning dawned early, and Whisper woke to find that all her travel clothes had been laundered and her boots polished. Despite that she loved the wilderness, she occasionally missed the conventions of living in a civilization. A small tray of fruits and cheese sat on the table next to her bed.
She slowly stood, stretching her arms above her head, all soreness from the night before gone. Her golden-red hair, unbound from its usual braid, flowed in silken waves that reached her thighs. She was clad only in a white silk nightdress as she silently ate her breakfast, enjoying the peace.
As she held a sliver of peach to her lips, a knock came at the door. Sighing and grabbing the heavy robe, she slipped it on and answered the door to find a messenger from the Elf lord.
"My lady," said the Elf serenely, bowing before her. "Lord Elrond and Wizard Gandalf have requested your immediate presence at the Council of the Ring."
Whisper nodded, and the messenger left. "So much for peace," she mumbled as she shut the heavy door. She moved to her wardrobe and began looking through the selection. Her preferred garments, her travel clothes, would not be appropriate, so she selected a light velvet dress of magenta, the trim a color of light pink rose. Somehow managing her stays by herself, she quickly slipped into the gown, feeling ridiculous as she fitted the matching velvet slippers onto her delicately small feet. After running a brush through her hair, and tying back the locks from her temples, she left her room, heading to the Council Chambers.
Only one chair stood empty in the half circle around a pedestal. Whisper quickly curtsied, feeling very self-conscious, and sat beside Strider, who looked magnificently different without his weather-worn tunic and cloak. He gave her a reassuring smile before they turned to look at Lord Elrond, who stood next to the small pillar.
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," he began, his brow furrowed, "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 Hobbit, looking weak from his wound and especially small compared to the Men and Elves and even the Dwarves, stepped forward and placed the solid golden band on the flat surface of the marble pedestal and returned to his place beside Gandalf. The entire council stared at the Ring, except for Whisper. She did not seem to be captivated by its presence, unlike the others.
One Man, sitting a few chairs down from Whisper, shifted in his seat. "It is a gift," he said, standing up. All eyes tore away from the Ring and stared at him. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" He paced back and forth in front of the small pillar. "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."
Strider spoke from beside Whisper, startling her. "You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone," he said, giving the other Man a hard look. "It has no other Master."
Whisper felt proud of her mentor for not succumbing to the Ring's temptation like this Man seemed to.
The Gondorian sneered at him. "And what would a Ranger," he drawled out the word, "know of this matter?"
At his words, Whisper stood swiftly, furry written on her face. And she wasn't the only one. An Elf, representing Mirkwood, had also leapt to his feet, his velvet robes flying with his movements.
"This is no mere Ranger," he said, his melodic voice laced with furry. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
The Gondorian looked to Strider, his gray eyes disbelieving. Strider's hand was on Whisper's wrist, restraining her.
"Aragorn?" the Man asked, a sneer still in his voice. "This is Isildur's heir?"
The Mirkwood Elf smirked, his cobalt eyes sparkling. "And heir to the throne of Gondor."
His words had an impact on all there, especially the Gondorian. Strider pulled Whisper to her seat then looked at the standing Elf. "Havo dad, Legolas," he said in Elvish, almost as if he were embarrassed.
Legolas, nodding ever so slightly to him, returned to his chair, his eyes never leaving the standing Man.
"Gondor has no king," the Gondorian said towards Legolas as he moved to his own seat. "Gondor needs no king." As he sat down, he shot both Aragorn and Whisper a spiteful look.
"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said from beside Frodo. Whisper tore her eyes away from the Gondorian, her blood still boiling. "We cannot use it."
Elrond stood from his chair. "You have only one choice," he said, looking at each of them in turn. "The Ring must be destroyed."
It was silent for a long moment. Whisper took calming breaths.
"Then what are you waiting for?" asked a burly Dwarf, raising his axe and launching himself on the Ring. There was a sound like a small explosion, and the Dwarf flew backwards, his axe shattered around him.
The Dwarves and Men near him rose to their feet to aid him. The Ring, Whisper saw, had no blemish on it.
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Lord Elron spoke slowly as the Dwarf rose. "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 is came." He looked at them again. "One of you must do this."
Whisper, still in shock over Gimli being thrown to his back with such force, looked to Elrond, her emerald eyes wide in disbelief. She then looked to Gandalf, then Aragorn beside her.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor," the Gondorian spoke up, one hand at his right temple as if it ached. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep." He pulled his hand away and made a circle with his fingers. "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." He shook his head.
Legolas leapt to his feet again. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?!" he demanded, looking at the Council. "The Ring must be destroyed!"
Gimli stood from his seat, his stocky legs spread in a challenging stance. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" He glared at Legolas.
The Gondorian rose from his seat and began his pacing yet again. "And if we fail, what then?" he demanded. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
Gimli took a step closer to Legolas, his face red behind his massive beard. "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"
At his words, chaos erupted as all races leapt to their feet. Legolas's kinsmen lunged at Gimli but the Mirkwood prince held them back as Gimli shouted, "Never trust an Elf!"
Only Aragorn stayed in his seat. Whisper stormed the few steps to the Gondorian and struggled to be heard over the uproar. "What do you know of anything, you moronic Man?!" she demanded, her skirts and hair flying in her rage-filled movements. "You know nothing!"
He looked at her. "What woman dares to speak to me in such ways?" he growled.
Gandalf stood, his voice booming above Whisper's retort. "Do you not understand?! While you bicker amongst yourselves, Sauron's power grows!" He glared at them all as they ignored him. "None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"
Whisper continued yelling at the Gondorian, and he yelled right back, his eyes lit with fire. Suddenly, a small voice cut through the chaos.
"I will take it!"
The Council, still enraged, did not hear as Frodo stood. "I will take it!" he repeated, and the races fell silent, all turning to stare at him. "I will take the Ring to Mordor!" His large blue eyes searched them all. "Though…I do not know the way…" He suddenly looked embarrassed by all the attention placed on him.
Gandalf stepped forward, his gray wizards' robes shifting. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He patted Frodo's shoulder as he moved to stand behind him.
Aragorn stood and brushed between Whisper and the Gondorian. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt before the Hobbit and took his hand. "You have my sword…"
Legolas stepped forward. "And you have my bow."
"And my axe," Gimli said proudly.
Whisper stepped forward to stand behind Frodo with the others. "I am yours to command," she said, letting her hand rest on his shoulder.
The Gondorian slowly stepped forward, his gray eyes dancing as he stared down at Frodo. "You carry the fate of us all, little one," he said. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." He gave Frodo a cold smile.
"Hey!" said a voice from behind them, startling them all as Sam ran out of the bushes. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me." Frodo gave him an admiring smile as Sam blushed.
Whisper looked at Lord Elrond, surprised to see him smiling. "No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." His sarcasm was light and joking, but Sam looked down, embarrassed all the same.
"Oi!" came another shout, causing Elrond to look around furiously. "We're coming too!" Merry and Pippin ran to stand next to Frodo, who seemed amazed. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," Merry told them all.
"A-anyways, you need people of intelligence for this sort of mission…quest…thing!" Pippin said, glancing around.
"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry murmured, and Pippin nodded before he realized it. Whisper tried hard not to laugh at the two Hobbits' antics.
"Ten companions," Lord Elron mused. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." He looked relieved, ad if a burden had been lifted.
"Great!" Pippin exclaimed, smiling. "Where are we going?"
Whisper barely caught the laugh that escaped her lips as they all looked to the innocent Hobbit.
Author's Note:
Happy Friday, and happy Friday the 13th! Thank you for reading thus far! Everything spoken in Elvish is in italics and underlined. When I have an Elvish phrase, I will give the translation in the AN. Please, leave a review!