Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR characters, whose births are credited to J.R.R. Tolkien. I should also mention that I'm only writing from LOTR, not Tolkien's other works, I'm sorry to disappoint. I also apologize for any future offense taken at my inconsistent timekeeping in the story.

I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I recently had my computer software updated to a whole new system, and I didn't manage to back-up the copy of this chapter. Hence, I am completely rewriting this from scratch, and my original ideas have been lost. Yay. And I'm trying to rewrite this before a two-week trip overseas.

Aaaand, I'm working on a new story (because I can scarcely read this one book without feeling the need to write this fanfiction, that has stayed in my head since I read it)...But now I ramble. Onwards!


After much time, I finally have the strength to move about the grounds with my own power. I'm always monitored when I walk; they are afraid of another repeat collapse. They ignore my protests and grumblings of good health. I've been with them too long to be able to fool them completely anymore. I do not concede aloud, but I know that they are right to be concerned. After the row I had with Elrond, they are correct to fear another collapse from me.

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*FLASHBACK*
Elf-lord, what is the meaning of this? I storm through the doors of the Elrond's study. I've just been told that you have forbidden the Fellowship from leaving? Why? Do you suddenly feel they are incompetent? You should have realized those fears the moment you appointed them! My hands fly furiously as I sign to Elrond.

Elrond rises tiredly from his seat and moves to my angry form. "I meant no disrespect, I simply felt that continuing the journey while you were weakened was a risk that simply could not be taken."

In other words, you truly doubt their ability to complete the task without my aid. I state. I am honored you feel I can accomplish this much, but it seems you overestimate my power. I sigh. It injures my pride to admit that I am indeed weaker than I thought I would be at this point. I cannot accompany the Fellowship as planned.

Elrond takes this information in stride. "We must proceed, but proceed most cautiously." I rolled my eyes, a habit I picked up in the last thousand years.

Would you do any different? The Dark Lord is hunting them, hunting us, me.

Elrond turned and looked at me. "Is there anything else you can possibly do?"

And that, of course, degenerated into uncharacteristic crashing of antiques on a polished marble floor and aggressive silences expressing feelings that only a one-sided argument could convey. Oh, the times I long to own a speaking appendage. It would make catharsis much more pleasant and satisfactory.

"Milady, are you well?" Sam sees me approaching and draws near to my side. I smile in greeting. Ever the bashful one and conscious of my state of health, he walks at an awkward distance; enough space between us to catch me if need be, and to bask in the presence of a Skyling. Sam is indeed a sweet and gentle soul.

"Milady! What a surprise! I didn't think you'd want to be with us after that-" Pippin starts to say but Merry elbows him roughly in the side.

"Pippin, we're not supposed to know, remember?" Merry mutters through gritted teeth. Pippin's eyes widen in remembrance and nods his head.

"Of course, like we weren't supposed to know about that Council meeting, eh?" Pippin whispers back in a loud voice. Merry closes his eyes in exasperation.

"Why do I even bother, stubborn Tooks," he mutters again. Then, remembering his manners, he smiles and perks up. "What we meant to say, is that we were told you needed loads of bedrest to recover! You're seriously ill and meeting up with us would only tire you out. Hobbits are energetic and tire out everyone from Dwarf to Elf," Merry glances at Gimli and one of the other elves in attendance. The elf's ice-cold stare freezes Merry, who turns away quickly in a childish manner. The elf bows at me in respect and leaves the room, clearly having too-often been the target of Merry and Pippin's antics.

Gimli, who is sharpening his axe-blade, mockingly replies, "Aye, are you sure you're fit for this journey, lad? It's not one for children to undertake."

Merry draws himself up. "I'll have you know, Master Gimli, that I am an adult in the Shire, and-"

Gimli cuts him off. "Well, you wouldn't know with all that energy you've been exerting. Eating, eating, and eating some more. Topped with the odd lethal and humiliating prank, and snoring like a swarm of buzzards, who'd believe you're fully grown? That's why you're called Halflings in the first place! Because you only have half the maturity, wiseness, and strength of a real adult!" Gimli finishes with a prideful flourish. Pippin sneaks behind Gimli and jumps him. "Oof!" he grunts.

"With the weight we've put on, we could almost be dwarves, wouldn't you say?" Pippin grins.

"Aye, no more than an elf could be a horse," Gimli replies.

"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult, dwarf?" Legolas asks. "I could make a point about how dwarves are so stubborn they turn into boulders if they do not eat or argue for a time."

Gimli's hot-headed temper gets the best of him. "Now see here, elf -" He stands up and hefts his axe sturdily in a menacing manner.

I sigh and walk away from the growing argument. Legolas was obviously joking in a way only those accustomed to elf manners would understand. Gimli, a dwarf, understandably feels overlooked and is jumping to save face. Should I try to mediate this situation? Ha, they will be companions for a long time, they should be able to rise above petty squabbles like this. Metal clangs sound behind me as Gimli engages Legolas in a "friendly" spar. Pippin shouts in surprise and tumbles from Gimli's axe as he swings it into action. Merry laughs merrily, and Sam murmurs to Frodo, "Shouldn't we stop this?"

Frodo, who was in the middle of a thought, stumbles out of his reverie with a confused, "Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, whatever you think best...I'm sorry, what were you saying, Sam?" And Sam draws Frodo back to the present, talking about something concerning burning swords.

These cheerful sounds die away as I walk down the corridor. I am enjoying the breeze of the open-air architecture, when I hear footsteps coming my way. I look up and see Aragorn, heading towards that cheerful crowd behind me. He is deep in thought, but I call to him as best I can. I gather him in my arms, glad to see him.

"Mother, you should be resting!"

I can rest later, I sign. Meanwhile, what of you? Why haven't you asked the elf-lord to let you depart? The sooner the Ring is destroyed, the sooner you can all settle in peace!

I tried, Aragorn signs. The Master was adamant we do not move until you recovered.

I'll see about that, I sign. I hug him again and kiss his cheek. Be ready, son. The dark forces may be stronger than we thought

I worry more for you, mother, he signs. The Master should be in the garden.

I tap Elrond's shoulder harshly, so he can feel my anger.

They must leave immediately. I waste no time on greetings or apologies for our last encounter.

"They are in fact, leaving today," he says to me. His words sound true. "I also trust you were not too upset with being restrained and sedated?"

I ignore his comment and continue, Why have I been told that you have been commissioning ships for the Grey Havens, then?

"My people grow tired of this land," he says. "It has been many, many decades since an elf-child has been born. My own daughter was one of the last. Man is growing smarter; they are learning, creating, there is no need for us anymore. We need not guide them, aid them, teach them anything. We are obsolete, memories of a time when evil was everywhere and no one could stop it."

So it has nothing to do with my recent illness?

"Your illness proves the evil is growing greater. There are no more elven armies strong enough or united enough to prevent its spread. My people are leaving this world. Our time is ending, it is Man's turn to rule."

I understand why he delayed them. If the Eye could indeed see into this realm, he would only see the elves fleeing, not a group of vagabonds traveling to destroy him. How long will it take for your ships to be finished? I ask.

"Not as soon as I had hoped."

There can be no more delay, I sign. They have been stopped long enough, and even the Ring-bearer is growing restless. He is thinking about the journey ahead, the dangers he will have to face. If he stays any longer, I fear he may lose his nerve, or even worse, forge ahead alone.

Elrond looks me in the eye, to see if I am lying. I stare straight back. There is a long silence. And he finally sighs.

"Very well. First light on the morrow."

I will bring them the news.

He nods and turns back to his flowers.

Soon, soon everything will begin.


Whew! Alright, now back to the drawing board for me...unless I finish rewriting the first chapter for my new story first. We'll see how it goes :)