- "The path has been set, but we are yet to walk it." -


Nine – The Dragonkin is Born


The Hobbits were enjoying their time in Rivendell, for it was the first instance that any of the four had seen a house of Elves, and such things were marvelled for their beauty throughout all of Middle-Earth. In particular, Sam was enthralled by the music, artistry and peaceful vibes that emanated from the House of Elrond with all the splendour of the fair folk themselves. He wandered the town with a look of wonder on his face, staring one way and then a thousand others. Nobody attempted to keep the gardener from his gawking.

For Frodo, there was another reason to be cheerful.

"Bilbo!" he exclaimed, running to his uncle and enveloping him in a bone-stretching hug. The old Hobbit was all smiles and laughs to see him again. Frodo noted that he looked older, but even Bilbo could not escape the effects of time forever, he reasoned.

"Frodo, my lad, how fares you?" Bilbo asked, pulling him into a chair and closing a tome that lay on his lap. Frodo noted the quill and ink, and was happy to see his uncle putting the finishing touches on the book he had been writing. It was a fine tale, although Bilbo had always skirted the loss of friends in his retelling of it each year. Frodo knew that it still pained him to think of the Dwarves.

"I've had quite the adventure, uncle," Frodo smiled. "It ended up being very different to yours, in more ways than one. Have you finished writing that book of yours yet?"

"Not quite," said Bilbo. "There's room for more, and the maps have taken me some time to sketch, but there is always room for more adventure in one's life, I should think. I meant to go back, you know, visit Erebor and Laketown and Mirkwood, but I fear I no longer have the strength. Age has caught me at last."

Frodo was sad to hear it, but he kept the smile on his face for Bilbo's sake.

"Did our guest return with you?" Bilbo asked. There was an amused glint in his eye, and at Frodo's expression, he laughed. "I know that he is not an Elf of Rivendell now; when the blue dragon landed in the gardens I was sure I had fallen back in time! But then I remembered that Smaug was ruby and golden, not coloured of sapphires, and I thought the end-times were upon us! Oh that I should live to see such a time! I have faced misery and war aplenty in my life as is."

Frodo was enraptured by Bilbo's way of speaking; years of storytelling had made the Hobbit a wonder in his ability to carry a tale.

"It is not a worry," said Frodo. "Her name is Saphira, and she is bonded with Eragon. He kept her hidden out of concern for her safety and to stay the nerves of all in Hobbiton. Alas, I feel the world will know of her before long, as she made an appearance at Bree and then Isengard and – oh, have you heard the news?" Frodo cried. "Saruman has betrayed our cause!"

"Yes, the tidings are being passed around Rivendell with ill-concealed worry," Bilbo nodded, trying not to let that worry show. "I am glad that Eragon brought Gandalf to Lord Elrond before his condition could worsen, although that is but a fleeting moment of happiness since the White Wizard has betrayed us all! I fear for The Shire, my boy, and I fear for all of Middle-Earth if he and Sauron should have their way. I am doubly glad to see Eragon and Saphira fight for the side of peace. Hmm... yes, 'Saphira'... it is a good name. Born from her closeness to sapphire gems, perhaps? As fitting as the closeness of 'Eragon' to 'dragon', if he is bonded with such a creature!"

"I had not thought of that," Frodo admitted. The difference in syllables had thrown him and he had never seen Eragon's name written down. Bilbo was sharp even in his growing years. But then, he was a writer at heart, and had perhaps written the name down himself for a taste of how it looked. "Saphira is noble, so do not fret; she saved us on more than one occasion on our trek through the wild, as did Eragon and Strider, and then Lady Arwen escorted me at the last. Such beauty I have never seen!"

"The Elves are fair in all walks of life," Bilbo said wisely. "Lady Arwen and Lord Aragorn plighted their troth some years ago, they say. They are all good people, different from what one will find anywhere else in the world, but especially grand just for that! What trouble was there on the road? We shouldn't speak too loudly of evil things here, but perhaps you might whisper to an old man."

Frodo chuckled and did so. "The nine Ringwraiths of Mordor came upon us, and we were separated for a time. Eragon and Strider fought them away more than once, and then they chased Lady Arwen and I to the ford! We were saved at the last, again by Eragon and Saphira, and then he returned for the others whilst the two of us rode to Rivendell. She did not speak much, but I gather that is because her mission was of the utmost importance – bringing the Ring here. Who would have thought that your little trinket could cause such trouble?" he laughed.

"Yes, yes, quite," said Bilbo, looking a mite uncomfortable. "I am sorry to have burdened you so, my lad. I am sorry that I ever found the wretched thing in that dark and gloomy cave so long ago."

"I understand, uncle, but the fate of all would be uncertain had you not found it," Frodo said softly, as he took Bilbo's hand in a comforting gesture. "Better to have found it and gifted the world a chance to be rid of such evil than to let it slumber, maybe even left it where it might have been found by the Dark Lord himself!"

Bilbo acquiesced to Frodo's reasoning and gave a solemn nod as he looked into the distance. "You are wiser than I at your age, Frodo. I pray that such wisdom serves you well in what is yet to come."


Eragon told Saphira of his dream the morning after having it, and her reasoning for its occurrence was sound, if not entirely comforting.

"We have the general knowledge of Tenga to draw upon," she reminded him. "Mayhap this has come from your subconscious piecing together fragments of information that we have not yet studied arduously."

"And what of my emotions?" he wondered, staring out across Rivendell from the balcony. "I felt cut to the quick when I awoke, Saphira. How does a dream of history instil such sorrow?"

Saphira yawned and thought about it. "Tenga may have felt emotionally attached to the Elven king or to the events as they were. Or perhaps it is not his memory, but that of one who was present for the duel. Or more likely, you have had a perfectly human response to something that is emotionally trying."

It was then that he told her about his conversation with Elrond and how he proclaimed to be an amalgamation of both races; this did not detract from her proposal and, in fact, lent credence to the notion. He had dreamt of Arya already, had he not? In the Shire. And those dreams had rendered him in a state of despair for a short time afterwards.

"It seems that we have many answers for even more questions to seek," Saphira said, wise words. "Unfortunately, that does not mean we will have those answers anytime soon, little one. The path has been set, but we are yet to walk it."

"Then we should take care not to tread blindly in the dark," Eragon replied. It was both literal and figurative; he would not go seeking answers at that point, not when there was a much more important task to undertake, and with the second coming of Sauron, it would not be wise to defer to another matter in the near future. The mystery of Tenga could wait.

Eragon had breakfast in his room, knowing that the Hobbits would want some time to explore Rivendell alone. Afterwards, while Saphira flew about the valley with freedom and exuberance, he walked to the room in which Gandalf was recovering, only to find that the wizard was gone. He blinked in surprise, but did not panic. If Gandalf was gone, it was because he had recovered.

"Gandalf is meeting with my father," a soft voice intoned from behind. He turned and saw that it belonged to Arwen, the Elf who had helped Frodo reach the estate safely. Now that he got an up-close look, he could see just how beautiful she was. Her face was smooth and flawless, framed by braids of dark hair. Her eyes were grey yet bright and, as with all of the Elves that he had known, betrayed her beauty to a great age. The colour of her hair stood in stark contrast to the pearly white of her gown, which shone with resplendent light. He had seen this before, when escaping from The Shire with Frodo and Sam, but to bear witness to such a spectacle up close drove the breath from his lungs.

Thankfully, Eragon was no longer the nervous boy he once was, and his pleasure at seeing her gave way to courtesy immediately.

"My lady," he said, giving a bow. She returned the gesture, showing a mutual respect. "I hoped to speak with you. Thank you for what you did on the road; you kept Frodo safe while I was away."

"I brought him here with haste, but you showed great strength in leading the Hobbits so far and in driving the Nine to flight," she smiled. Her voice had a soft quality to it, just like silk.

"I wasn't alone," he said, and Saphira roared gently from above, causing him to chuckle. If anything, the Elf just smiled all the wider.

"I had never thought to be around a dragon, much less one that serves the light," she admitted. "If fate has brought the both of you here together with the Ring, then it seems as if fate itself is fighting for justice. That is a good omen."

"That's a sagacious take on what's happened," Eragon said, amused. "Will you be attending the council today?"

"I shan't," she told him, shaking her head. "It does my heart a great sorrow to speak of such evil, and my father will convey the thoughts of our kind in my stead. He is wiser than I by far."

"Wisdom comes from experience," Eragon intoned, although he knew that was ironic, given that he was not yet twenty and she was likely centuries old, at the very least. He decided to make that point. "I may be young, but I know that warfare gives one a type of experience that most are lucky to not have. I have slain Men, foul creatures known as Urgals, and other horrors alike. I make no boasts of these, and I daresay that Lord Elrond is much the same. Humility gives one wisdom, I think, and that makes you wise, my lady."

She smiled at him and thanked him for the compliment. Eragon decided that he had taken enough of her time and left to find Saphira. He felt nothing for Arwen, but she reminded him much of Arya. Even their names had a similar ring to them. It didn't cross his mind until later that he had inadvertently called himself wise.


Sometime later, although Eragon could not say exactly when, he was fetched by Lord Elrond and Gandalf, both of whom he exchanged a greeting with.

"You heal quickly," Eragon said, grinning at the wizard, who winked at him with mirth.

"The time has come," Elrond remarked, nodding to Eragon. "We will hold council and determine the fate of the Ring, a council that I predict shall be one for the ages. The representatives that I spoke of have arrived for their own reasons, but we all share a singular purpose: the destruction of evil. Let us meet our fellows."

Eragon followed the Elf-Lord and Gandalf into a secluded area of Rivendell, passing several Elves as he did so and exchanging polite greetings. These included Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, and Elrond's sons, twins Elrohir and Elladan, neither of whom he knew much about. Glorfindel himself fell in alongside them on their walk. When they reached their destination, Eragon found that it was separated from the rest of the estate, designed as a meeting place of great privacy. A stone dais lay in the centre of the porch and around the edge, which was circular in nature, sat an assortment of Men, Elves and Dwarves. Eragon recognised some of them, but many had come from parts afar and he would have to be introduced.

Elrond did not deign to give these introductions, however, and jumped into the matter at hand.

"You will forgive me for my discourtesy," he said, as Eragon sat beside Frodo and then Gandalf, "but our time is short. Indeed, the time of all may be cut short in the coming months. Middle-Earth is nearing the end of its life due to the machinations of the Dark Lord, and none here can stand alone against the darkness. We will unite or we will fall. There is no third course open to us."

"A cheerful introduction," Eragon remarked, causing Saphira to snort in amusement. She wasn't there and he smirked, knowing full well that she wished to make as dramatic an entrance as possible.

Elrond continued: "doubtless many of you have heard the rumours that pertain to the weapon of the enemy, but rumours they are not. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo stood hesitantly and walked to the stone dais, upon which he placed the One Ring. This sparked an outbreak of whispering, amidst which Frodo returned to his seat, looking haggard. Eragon wondered if it was due to scrutiny or the effects of being parted from the Ring.

Across the miniature courtyard, a man stood. He was garbed in travelling gear, which was stained from the road. He, like all of the Men Eragon had seen in Middle-Earth, had long hair, although not so long as Aragorn's. His cloth was rich.

"In a dream," he began, "I saw that the bane of Isildur was found, but I did not think to believe it. It has taken me some weeks to find Rivendell, for its location is hidden from the outside world, but I never despaired. I continued onwards in vain hope that my dream was prophetic in nature. Now that I have arrived, I wonder what else fate has in store for us."

"The council recognises Boromir of Gondor," Elrond said, nodding in his direction.

"I must admit that I worry my eyes deceive me," Boromir said with a nervous laugh. "That our world could be decided on so small a thing... such a little thing..."

"Step back," Eragon said, sharply. The man had been slowly edging towards the dais, his gaze fixed on the Ring. There was a hungry expression on his face and while Eragon could not fault him for the corrupting effect of the Ring, he would not allow the man to wreak havoc by drawing any closer. Boromir gave him a look and frowned, but stepped back as he was bid.

"You are no Elf," he said, although his voice held an inflection.

"Nay, I am not," said Eragon.

"Friends of old, this is Eragon, son of Brom," said Elrond, standing and gesturing at the Rider. "If fate has brought us all together, then it has played a greater role than even the wisest could foresee, for Eragon is not of this Earth. He has come to us from a time removed, perhaps a world removed, from the expanses of Arda itself."

"Lord Elrond does not lie, I have heard, but I find this introduction difficult to comprehend," Boromir admitted, looking Eragon up and down. "What is your tale, friend?"

Eragon decided that a practical demonstration was in order. He held his palm aloft. "Brisingr."

There were cries of shock as a small, blue flame suddenly jumped into existence and hovered just above the skin of his palm. Eragon allowed them all to gaze upon it and then shut his hand, extinguishing the flame.

"Forgive me for the surprise," he said, "but fire is something of great import to me."

Beside him, Gandalf snorted.

"I am Eragon, last of the Dragon Riders. Do not ask me how I came to be here, for I do not know, save that magic was the ultimate cause. What matters now is that here I am, and my fate is bound to that of Middle-Earth. My friend and I fight against the darkness."

"And where is your friend?"

Eragon paused. "Saphira?"

Saphira's answer to his query was to roar and drop from the sky with a great flapping of wings, an action that had the council in an uproar. Many of them attempted to flee, but Eragon stopped them with a simple spell. Saphira settled on the remains of a crumbling stone pillar near the council, but there was significant overhang and she snaked her tail around the structure for support. After making herself comfortable, she took the time to gaze at the different races in turn, many of whom sported expressions of fear and disbelief.

"Notice that she is not maiming or killing all of you," Eragon said with amusement, and about half of the diplomats looked at him, while the others kept their eyes fixated on Saphira's massive bulk. "Her name is Saphira, and she is the only other person to have come with me to Middle-Earth. I understand that the dragons of Morgoth were terrifying beasts, but Saphira is not... even if she gets a kick out of scaring folks."

Saphira gritted her teeth and snarled for effect, then began to utter a deep, grumbling chuckle as the little ants before her tried to move but found that they could not.

"What have you done?" one of the Elves cried. "What sorcery-"

Eragon released the magic and most of the council members fell to the ground with a series of grunts. Still, none attempted to flee anymore and Saphira, bored with their reactions, shut her eyes and lowered her head.

"I've had my fun, little one. The rest is up to you."

"Thanks for that," he grumbled with good nature. "Saphira cannot speak, but she and I are able to communicate with one another in an altogether different manner. She thanks you for the entertainment of showing fright."

"Fright with good cause!" shouted a Dwarf, one who seemed to command the entourage. "The last time I came face to face with a dragon was many decades ago, but that monster laid waste to the Kingdom of Erebor! It was a perilous journey we undertook to free the land of its presence, one that claimed the lives of many of my kin!"

Saphira opened an eye, but Eragon calmed her. "He must be talking about Smaug," Eragon said. "Don't worry."

"I don't like to hear of my kind being killed," she growled. The Dwarf noticed and, to his credit, did not flinch.

"Saphira is not a killing machine," Eragon said flatly. "She is my partner and my friend. The Dragon Riders of Alagaësia tamed the dragons long ago; perhaps that is an area in which Arda has been sorely lacking all these years."

Eragon knew that he had scored a point with that little declaration, if the looks on the faces of those present were anything to go by. Some of them looked ashamed, while others appeared bothered by the reminder of Morgoth. Most of them were clearly still wary of Saphira, but at Elrond's direction, they retook their seats.

"I would remind you, Gloin, that no creature such as Smaug would ever be granted entry into Rivendell," Elrond said, staring the Dwarf down. "Moreover, Saphira has caused us less trouble than you own company did all those years ago. Do you deign to question the wisdom of my decision?"

Gloin shook his head sheepishly. "Nay, I do not. I offer my apologies to you, Lord Elrond, and both to Eragon and Saphira. I simply had a fright."

"Understandable," Eragon nodded. "Just remember that Saphira is no threat to any on our side. All of you should remember that," he added, looking at the gathering at large. "We are here to help, and with Saphira's strength and my power, we can go a long way towards doing some good in the war to come. Together we will help to destroy the Ring once and for all."

"Destroy?" Boromir asked quietly. "Why should we destroy what we might use?! Sauron's own weapon shall be his downfall! Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, watched over the land of Mordor so that all of you might remain safe in your beds at night! Long have my brothers shed their blood in the hopes of coming across an opportunity to strike back at our foe, such as this one! I have watched the Kingdom of Gondor fall into ruin and despair, not least in part because the strength of the enemy is growing. Let us use that strength against him!"

"Avarice!" Aragorn exclaimed. "You cannot wield it; none of us can! The Ring answers to Sauron alone, for it has no other master! Its power lies in corrupting the hearts of Men and all other creatures of this Earth! Would you taint the reputation of the West by sipping from such a poisoned chalice?"

Boromir looked at Aragorn, as if sizing him up. "What would a ranger know of this matter?" he queried. "I have no doubts that you have seen much of the enemy in your time traversing the wild and know how to fight Orcs, but this is a kingly gift."

"And you are speaking to a king!" cried one of the Elves, who stood upright. He glared at Boromir. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and rightful heir to the throne of Gondor, not some mere ranger!"

Boromir's eyes rose as he looked between the Elf and Aragorn. "This is Isildur's heir?"

Aragorn spoke some quiet words in Sindarin and the Elf sat once more, but his eyes did not leave Boromir. Half of the council was staring at one of the two Men by that point, including Saphira herself. It was clear that most had not known of Aragorn's heritage, but those who did were generally of Elven kind, bar a handful of others.

"Aragorn is right," Elrond said as he looked down at each of the council representatives in turn. "You have only one choice: the Ring must be destroyed."

Boromir seemed to deflate, and some of the others shared inquisitive glances. Eragon cast one at Gandalf, who appeared deep in thought. The Elves began to whisper among each other, clearly discussing the enormity of Lord Elrond's words. Aragorn reapplied his talent to appear unseen at will, slinking backwards and blending with the shade, and Frodo was pensive. Most of those present were, in fact.

Most.

"Then what are we waiting for?" growled one of the Dwarves, one with a shaggy mane of hair and beard to match. Eragon could not tell if it was maroon or burgundy, but either way it could not match the Dwarf's fiery spirit, for he shot upright, grabbed his axe, and swung it with all his might at the pedestal on which the Ring sat, hitting the golden ornament head-on with the blade. To his surprise, the axe shattered and the force of the blow threw him to the ground. The Ring remained unharmed. The Dwarf stared at it in confusion.

Eragon noted Frodo tensing at this and saw Gandalf place a composing hand on his shoulder, but his own attention was taken by Elrond, who had not moved to stop the Dwarf.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this," he said, looking around at the representatives, who all remained silent at his proclamation.

Boromir looked unsettled and cried: "One does not simply walk into Mordor! Do none of you know of what evil resides in such a place? More than Orcs! The Great Eye is ever watchful, and the servants of Sauron have turned the land to dust and fire and ash! Now, even the air that one breathes is a poisonous fume, and to say nothing of the Nine! Not with ten thousand men could you do this, for it is folly. What should happen if the quest fails, and Sauron reclaims what is his? The Ring cannot traverse this path, or we shall all be doomed. The Ring must go to Gondor!"

"Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond has said?" asked Legolas, jumping to his feet again in anger. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think that you're the one to do it?" Gimli demanded, drawing a look of fury from the Elf. A touch of spittle flew from Gimli's mouth as he growled. "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

That last sentence drew outrage from the Elven contingent present, and many of them sprung upright to join their kinsman, who argued back with words that even Eragon could not hear, for there was now too much shouting to make out more than snatches of individual conversation. Beside him, Gandalf shook his head in consternation and then entered the debate.

"Don't you understand that while you bicker among yourselves, Sauron's power grows? None will escape it! You'll all be destroyed! Would you do nothing but squabble until the day of ruin?" he demanded of Boromir, who looked thoughtful for a brief moment, before promptly beginning to argue back.

"This is madness," Eragon exclaimed, watching the scene unfold.

"This is politics," said Saphira, echoing his own sentiments from long ago.

"I've had about all I can stomach of it," he said with purpose.

"That's enough! How can all of you fools stand here and argue when the enemy is on the move?" Eragon shouted, but his words were lost among the din. Nearby, Elrond palmed his forehead and shook his head sadly. The bickering intensified, and Eragon was impressed that no punches had yet been thrown. Saphira asked an unspoken question of him. With a sigh, he turned away and rubbed his temples. "Do it."

Saphira arched her back and shifted forward, before opening her mouth and releasing Eragon's pent-up anger and frustration in a roar that cascaded off the hills of Imladris for a full thirty seconds. It served its purpose well, and Men, Elves and Dwarves alike ceased in their arguments, turning their wide eyes to her and then backing away. Eragon noted that some did not necessarily seem afraid of her anymore, but still they treated her warily, as was bereft of her imposing figure. Silence fell and Saphira growled as she gestured towards the chairs with her triangular head. They got the message and returned to their seats slowly.

"You people," Eragon hissed, before spinning to face them, "are nothing but a bunch of children! Grow up! This type of division is exactly what Sauron wants, and this ring of his has all of you eating straight from his hand! As Lord Elrond said, it must be destroyed – there is no other option. You who want to use it are exactly the type of people to be most corrupted by it!"

Some of those present flinched at this, and Boromir looked unhappy, likely reminded of the influence of the Ring on Men as a whole.

"I swore to protect the Ring-bearer and I swore to have the Ring destroyed," Eragon said, standing tall and glaring down at all of them. "If you want to 'use' it, you're going to have to get by me first. And her," he added, pointing his thumb towards Saphira, who snarled menacingly. Some eyes shifted back to the sapphire overseer again.

"Would you take the Ring yourself to Mordor?" Gimli asked, contemplating the idea as he looked Eragon up and down and measured in Saphira's influence on such a task. It appeared that the Dwarf did not know what to think of him, which was a shared sentiment.

"If I have to, yes," Eragon declared. "I am going to say this one last time, so that all of our allies can know of it; I am no Elf, and I am no Man. I am Eragon, the last of my kind and possibly the first. If you must have a name for me, let it be Rider or Agretlam for the colour of my palm, or Shadeslayer, or Dragonkin. Yes, I am Dragonkin! I have no family but Saphira, after all! I have lost two brothers, my only love and a father in my lifetime, and I never knew any mother. I will not see that happen to others if I can help prevent it, no matter their name or their race. If I need storm the Dark Lord's fortress alone, fine! If I have to kill thousands of Orcs with Saphira's help, I will! If I must take the Ring myself, so be it!"

"Eragon," Saphira began softly, but she was interrupted.

"No!"

There were mutterings of surprise, and Eragon looked around at Frodo, who had silently risen to his feet and was now striding purposefully towards the pedestal. Eragon blanched.

"I won't allow you or Saphira to be harmed by taking up this burden," he declared, looking Eragon in the eye. "You have both saved my life already, and I will return the favour! I shall take the Ring to Mordor... although..." he trailed off and looked to his feet. "...I do not know the way."

Eragon had always known that Frodo was courageous, and Saphira herself had remarked at his inner strength when first they met, but this was not something he had expected. The Hobbit had been able to resist the influence of the Ring for the most part, although he was tempted by it on occasion, but the closer he got to Mordor and to Sauron, the worse its unrelenting tug on Frodo's heart would be. It would twist him into something unrecognisable, a shadow of his former self; this was why Saphira had been angry at his suggestion to take the Ring himself – it would have happened to Eragon too, perhaps quicker than it would to Frodo, although there was no objective means of measuring such a thing.

He considered arguing back, but Saphira stopped him.

"Let him take it. We will be safer, and we can still watch over him on this quest, so it isn't as if we would be cowering."

"It's not fair," Eragon argued. "He doesn't deserve the hardship, and we have experience in situations such as this. I feel like I'm pawning the task off on another, on somebody who feels that they have no choice in the matter."

"Is there such a choice?" she asked rhetorically. "If the Ring is not destroyed, Sauron will rise again. That cannot be allowed to happen. You cannot take it, and nor can any of these 'children', as you so eloquently labelled them. Gandalf or Aragorn, maybe, but both would refuse for the same reason – fear of its influence. You yourself felt tempted by the thing in Bag End, but Frodo has shown his ability to resist. Let him take it, and let us go with him."

Eragon swallowed and agreed with her. "I have some knowledge of this land, my friend, and power that I can put to good use. I will guide you and watch over you with both eyes, for I can think of no better purpose for them."

"As shall I," Saphira told him. "There are many great beasts and evil creatures in the wild, Frodo Baggins... I should have great fun hunting them down and seeing how they taste."

Eragon rolled his eyes, thinking that she had been about to make a serious comment. Really, he should have known better. He himself had one more thing to say.

"I only ask that you think over this choice again and then again before you make it, for I fear that once made, it cannot be undone."

"I have thought on it already, and the council is right that the Ring must be thrown into the fires of Mount Doom," said Frodo, "for only then can the world be at peace again. I appreciate your concern, Eragon, but I will not ask another to do this for me. The Ring was passed to me; I bear sole responsibility for its destruction for so long as I draw breath. I ask for help, but I alone will carry the Ring to Mordor."

It was a statement, a firm one at that.

Eragon nodded. He would not use magic to influence his friend.

Frodo's words struck true and, whilst it was not his intention, Gandalf gave a solemn smile and walked to just behind Frodo, again clapping him on the shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."

Eragon felt the mood shift. Perhaps it was a measure of the trust that everybody present placed in Gandalf, or perhaps it was their realisation that this was now the popular course of action, but no matter the case, he could feel a bond forming.

Aragorn stood and walked to Frodo, before kneeling before him and taking his hand. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Legolas, the Prince of the Woodland Realm, rose again, both with grace and a degree of swiftness. He seemed to glide rather than walk, so light on his feet was he. "And you have my bow," he said to Frodo. Simple words, but the effect they carried was tremendous; the power of an Elf would be a huge asset on their quest.

"And my axe," said Gimli. The Dwarf spoke gruffly, such was the thickness of his voice, but he looked at Frodo with pride, impressed at the Hobbit's inner strength. Eragon could see that he would be a great ally, given that he was fearless enough to attack the Ring itself without a moment's hesitation. Gimli stood beside Legolas, and the two looked a mite unhappy at that, but neither voiced a complaint.

Eragon's eyes shifted to Boromir, who was approaching slowly. "You carry the fate of us all, little one," he said, drawing a quiet hmph from Saphira. "If this is indeed the will of the council and my voice is not enough to sway them on the matter, then you have Gondor's blessing. I will help you see it done in the name of all Men."

Eragon couldn't resist; he reached for Boromir's mind, and what he found caused him to raise his eyebrows: the man was genuine. He wanted to protect his people, for whom he had a great love, and whilst he had thought that using the power of the Ring was the correct path, he felt that if its destruction was enough to serve Gondor, then that was what he would do. He felt temptation, and Eragon resolved to help him avoid it; Boromir did not deserve to fall in such a way. None of them did.

"All of them will fight for what they believe in; we can help them, but remember that this is war, Eragon. You know that it is impossible to save them all."

"Then we can focus on keeping these people in particular alive," he said in a tone that booked no room for argument. No matter, as she agreed with him. They were to become companions-in-arms and would have to watch over one another. Even Eragon, for all his power, would welcome their support. He thought of The Shire and how he wanted to protect it. Really, it was ironic, given what happened next.

"Oi! Mister Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!" came Sam's voice.

Eragon blinked in surprise as the Hobbit ran from behind a grouping of plants bushes nearby. Even he hadn't noticed Sam as he spied on the council although, from her amusement, he took it that Saphira had.

"Why, indeed," said Elrond, his voice rich with amusement. "After all, it hardly seems possible to separate you, least of all when he has been summoned to a secret council and you have not."

Sam looked abashed, but his blushes were spared by the arrival of Merry and Pippin, who had also been hiding. Elrond looked surprised at their alacrity, as they too demanded to be brought along. Or perhaps it was his annoyance at not having caught three eavesdroppers. Either way, the Hobbits gave him no time to recover.

"We're coming too!"

"You'd have to take us home, tied up in a sack, to stop us!"

"Besides, you need people of intelligence for this sort of... mission... quest... thing."

"Well, that rules you out, Pippin."

Pippin nodded eagerly, but then looked at his cousin with a frown.

Eragon did not share in their humour for once.

"This is a problem," he said. He motioned to Gandalf for a word, but the wizard shook his head and made him wait, as the meeting had not ended.

Instead, the Council of Elrond talked long and hard regarding strategy, the impact that any coming war would have upon the Free Peoples, the strength of Sauron and Saruman combined and the prospect of defeat. They shared tidings of Dwarven and Elven settlements and shared intelligence relating to the swarms of Orcs inhabiting the Misty Mountains, Angband and many more dark corners of Middle-Earth. Eragon was asked questions about his magic and answered them to the best of his ability, explaining that neither he nor Saphira could destroy the Ring, as proven when they both attempted to with fire of their own. Gandalf mentioned that even Ancalagaon could not have scratched the Ring, and from there the discussion turned to the possible return of dragons.

Eragon toned them out by that point, knowing that such a thing wasn't possible. Instead, when the meeting adjourned and Elrond led him and Gandalf to his private study for a drink, he followed with haste.


"You'll forgive me for questioning the wisdom of this decision," Eragon said, cutting through the pomp as soon as they settled in the room. He stood while the others sat and had to restrain himself from pacing back and forth. "Frodo I can understand, but how can we deign to place three additional Hobbits in such danger?" he continued, looking at them in turn. "I know that they aren't children and can make their own decisions, but they are nothing like the Dwarves or any of the rest of us; they don't know how to fight! Are we supposed to train them on the path to Mordor? They will slow us all down!"

"Strength of arms is not the only requirement for joining in this fellowship," Elrond intoned, as he poured three glasses of white wine. "Originally I had planned to select nine to travel to Mordor with the Ring, were my vision of its destruction accepted by the Council. Nine companions to counter the nine servants of Sauron. This revelation, however, has come as a surprise."

"And what other requirements could there be?" Eragon demanded, ignoring the rest of his explanation. It was unimportant.

"Boosting the morale of the Ring-bearer is vital to ensuring the success of our quest," Elrond countered, and there was a touch of steel in his voice that Eragon had not heard before. "Protecting Frodo from falling to the darkness is not only accomplished by the swinging of swords and axes, Master Eragon. It is vital that we ensure his comfort for as long as possible, and the Halflings will also have a positive influence on the rest of the company too. Their spirits exist on a natural high, and Gandalf has told me that is true of all Shirefolk. A little jubilation will have a profound impact in a land as foul as Mordor. Their inability to swing a sword is not the deciding factor in this matter."

"Then perhaps we should send fifty or even a hundred warriors alongside the eleven of us," Eragon said, resting his palms on the Elf's desk. "What of Glorfindel? He slew a Balrog, did he not? We could use somebody with those talents in the field."

"Glorfindel's power will make no difference in this quest," Gandalf said, speaking up for the first time. He was puffing away at his pipe weed, ignoring the beverage from the time being. Elrond sat across from them and sipped as Gandalf spoke. "We cannot formulate a plan to reach Mount Doom, because there are tens of thousands of Orcs and other horrors barricading any path we might take. The Black Gate is nigh impregnable. And I will hear no talk of Cirith Ungol, not when the spawn of Ungoliant resides there! No, we must approach Mordor with caution and place our trust in providence, for there is no plan of our making that can best Sauron at this point in time."

"Providence," Eragon muttered, unable to keep the displeasure from his voice. "If your Valar and your God have not already killed Sauron, why should they help us now? The hows and whys are up to us, not ethereal beings that take no interest in our survival. I say we take the road south from Osgiliath and then make for the Crossings of Poros. There must be a path through the mountains south of that point."

"Possibly, but the Crossings are watched by thousands of Haradrim," Gandalf pointed out. "And the eastern passes are guarded by lines of border forts that belong to the Easterlings of Rhûn. The land directly north of Mordor is a wilderness, one devoid of food and water for us to replenish our stocks; even Saphira would have difficulty finding so much as a bird to eat for weeks. All of this has been studied for many decades now, and unless you are capable of shifting a mountain from the earth, there is no way into Mordor but those two paths that I have mentioned."

"Water would not be a problem, but I take your point about food," said Eragon. He thought for a minute. "Perhaps Saphira and I could destroy the Haradrim from the air and open up the path through the Crossings."

"And alert the whole of Mordor to our intentions?" Gandalf asked, shaking his head. "I should think not."

"What is the problem with that?" Eragon asked. "If Sauron sends out his army in retaliation, we can despatch them as well and leave a gap to exploit. We could even mount a full-scale assault on the Black Gate if necessary."

"You place too much stock in your own abilities," Gandalf scolded. "You were unable to defeat Saruman, and Sauron is the greater of those two by far. On top of that, he will not send his army out for a party of eleven. He will retreat and barricade Mount Doom with everything at his disposal, including the Nine, for he is not so reckless as you seem to think. And then, even if we succeed in forcing a path through his army, what of those not inside Mordor?"

Here, Eragon hesitated. "What are you talking about?"

"There are thousands of Orcs ravaging the lands of Gondor and Rohan even as we speak," Elrond said. "Thousands more hide in mountains and other dark parts of the world. They are widely dispersed and little more than a nuisance, but together they constitute a deadly threat. You have said that Saphira cannot carry the Ring, which means that it must approach Mordor on foot, as per the plan. If that is the case, it matters not how much damage you inflict on Sauron's forces inside Mordor; he will order those outside to move openly against the world of Men in retaliation, and thousands of innocents will suffer the consequences. Would you have that on your conscience?"

Eragon thought about it in silence for a minute, although there was no need. "I would not," he admitted quietly. "I don't like to weigh up the idea of thousands of lives against each other, as if there is some intrinsic greater good at the root and stem of everything. It isn't who I am."

"Nor is it who we are," Elrond told him softly. "And this plan of yours fails to take Saruman's influence into account. What will he do, if Sauron's army is destroyed? He will disappear and build his own in secret, where even we cannot find him. And then we will be back on page one again. The both of them will strike at the hearts of all, and there will be nowhere to run or hide. As you said, the Valar will not intervene; this land is home for all of us, and Men, Dwarves and Hobbits cannot flee. They must make ready for all-out war. Even you, Master Eragon, cannot avert that fact."

Eragon grimaced. "I must admit that the idea of travelling on foot to Mordor makes me apprehensive. Those Orcs will still be pillaging Rohan and Gondor, and what then? What happens when we do reach the Black Gate? We trust in providence?" He snorted at the idea. "I do not wish to cause undue offence, but I have no time for something so haphazard as providence. The very idea is distinctly unamusing. I believe in higher powers and have seen at least one in my time; perhaps it wasn't a god, but it held a power that even I cannot fathom, let alone explain. Nonetheless, the gods do not fight the wars of Men, Elves and Dwarves in their stead. This is our fight."

"There will be no direct action, but there are always signs," Gandalf said, giving a smile. "But remember this, Eragon: I spoke truly when I told the Council that Sauron's power is growing."

Eragon couldn't bring himself to be surprised that Gandalf knew he had heard him speaking to Boromir amongst the din.

"The longer we hesitate, the more powerful he becomes. And the world will not sit and rest idle while the battle for its very soul is being fought. Things are unfolding, and Middle-Earth is changing. I believe that you and Saphira were sent to us in the same manner as the Ring, and I believe that our path will be enlightened as we walk it. It does not have to be about the Valar, or even Eru Ilúvatar. No, it has to be about having wisdom and courage, and using those to true effect."

"But we still have no plan," Eragon sighed. "Taking the weapon of the enemy into his territory and hoping that pot luck shows us the way to succeed is bloody reckless. Suicidal, even."

"Even the very wisest have not seen this day approach," Elrond said. "I have repeated those words more than once today. Who could have foreseen the Ring come to us in the hands of a Halfling, and who could have prophesised the arrival of a dragon and a Dragon Rider from another world? There is power in magic, Master Eragon. Somehow, I do not think you need me to tell you that. The power of the enemy lies in his uniformity and we will counter that by catching him unawares. Even he, in all his meticulous planning, could never comprehend the idea of a Hobbit bearing the One Ring and carrying it to its place of destruction. Sauron is focused on the power of the Elves and when we are gone, he will turn that attention to Men.

"The Halflings are an unknown quantity in this plan, both for us and for him. Frodo will take the Ring and he will find a way with the guidance of his fellows, for he has already taken it this far and lived to tell the tale. The Fellowship's path is set – the Ring will be taken to Lothlorien and there, I think, there will be more decisions to be made, depending on the events that unfold in the meantime."

"Madness," Eragon said to Saphira. "Utter madness. They are placing all their eggs in one basket, and the basket itself has gaping holes in the bottom. We must make our own plans."

"We must," Saphira agreed. "However, I do not think that there is another basket, little one. Once the Ring is taken, it must be carried all the way or else fall into enemy hands. Gandalf knows that, at the least; he will make his plans as well, so it would be best to trust him and work together than it would to go it alone."

Eragon saw the wisdom in that. "So be it." Out loud he asked: "to sum up, you both believe that Middle-Earth will show us our path in time, correct?"

"I believe the answers we seek will become clear if we search for them," Gandalf replied.

"You enjoy speaking in riddles, don't you?" Eragon sighed. "What of the eagles? Surely there's a place for them in all of this."

"The Great Eagles are intelligent creatures," Gandalf said. "They are wary of the Ring and, much like Saphira, would not carry it or its bearer. Moreover, they are not the only great creatures capable of flight in this world."

Gandalf allowed that ominous statement to hang.

"I still fail to see why we cannot have a company of Elven warriors," Eragon said. This was another aspect of the plan that was concerning to him.

"Such a large company will be noticed," Gandalf told him.

"Eleven or one hundred – what difference is there, really?"

"Much. Even the Elves can fall into the nets of enemy spies," Elrond pointed out. "I have seen it happen time and time again; belief in invulnerability makes one arrogant. What could my people accomplish that the fellowship itself could not, especially with you and Saphira on our side? Why, just now you boasted of being able to destroy the entire army of Mordor!"

Eragon had no answer to that which would not come off as a desperate plea. It may add a degree of security to the quest, but if the company came up against a threat so great that Eragon, Gandalf and the others could not defeat it together, then one hundred Elves would make no difference. In any case, he would take Saphira over a million Elves if given the choice.

"Very well," he said, rubbing his brow. "But allow me to ask one, final question; are we certain that the benefits of having the Hobbits will outweigh the risks of bringing them with us?" He was determined to resolve this issue.

"Unless you know some magic that can have the effect in their stead, yes," said Elrond.

"I do, but I can't use it without a major invasion of privacy, and who knows what effect it would have on Frodo when he is carrying the Ring? I will not experiment with his life."

"Then the matter is settled," Elrond nodded, standing upright. "The company will consist of eleven members, with representatives from each of the allied races taking a place among it. The Hobbits will remain included, and Gandalf will lead all of you to the land of Mordor in due time. You can leave after stocking up on provisions. I imagine that Saphira will need a lot to sate her appetite."

Eragon snorted. "Never underestimate a dragon, Lord Elrond, especially not Saphira. Even while the enemy is hunting us, she will hunt a herd of deer without a care in the world. With regards to food, it's the Hobbits that I worry about."


:Author's Notes:

The time-frame of Boromir's journey to Rivendell is out of whack in the film if one considers the scene of Denethor explaining the council meeting to him in the Extended Edition, so I've plumped for the book explanation of coincidence-that-isn't-really-coincidence bringing the representatives together.

More importantly, Eragon doesn't get to have it both ways and I sure as hell wasn't going to change the Fellowship at this point. He stepped over the line with his arrogance and was made aware of that fact in short order. Good luck arguing against the points that were raised by Gandalf and Elrond. Eragon's magic will have a major part to play, but more on that later.

Major diversions have not happened yet, bar Isengard. I have a plan, and it sees the Ring enter Mordor around the thirtieth chapter, so let that tell you just how many changes are coming. For now, enjoy Eragon and Saphira's reactions to near-canon events. We're creeping towards the point where I thrust them aside (near-canon events, not Eragon and Saphira).

One more thing, and it really irritates me to have to say this, but I am not paid for writing on this site and, as such, am not going to bother with any flame wars in my reviews section. This refers to a couple of guests and a couple of named users alike, who I have now gotten rid of with a sadistic grin on my face. Have your phallic-measuring contests elsewhere, folks. I'm not interested in babysitting.

EDIT: The first two reviewers have told me they've picked up on a Pirates of the Caribbean reference in this chapter and I don't know what it is, so I can assure you that it is a huge coincidence. I didn't expect this, ha. What exactly have I done?

Cheers!