A/N: Moving right along... I actually really enjoyed this chapter, both writing-wise and reading-wise. I also toyed a bit with changing perspectives, which was quite fun.
As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
A sudden clap of thunder jolted Celede out of her sleep. It was the middle of the night, and warm as she was in her bed, she shivered upon hearing the rain and wind whistling fiercely outside. Then, to her surprise, her keen Elvish hearing picked up the sound of footsteps passing by her room. Celede quickly pulled the covers away and stepped out of bed, creeping barefoot towards her wardrobe. She put a simple sheath over her nightgown and shrugged on a dark cloak for warmth. She had slept with her hair in a long single braid, and by now much of it had come loose, but she paid it no attention as she rushed out her door and down the stairs.
The halls were silent as she passed down a flight of stone steps to the lower levels. Her feet were still bare, and the stone felt cold and smooth underneath her. She saw candlelight emanating from the library, and she made her way towards it, careful to tread as quietly as she could across the hallway.
These rainy nights always reminded Celede of the nights she had spent with Estel when he was little, comforting him as the lighting cracked and thunder shook the house from outside. Gilraen had sung songs of the Dunedain to Estel, some cheerful and fun but some slow and sad as well. Whichever they were though, they had nonetheless kept Estel's attention away from the storm raging outside.
Four years after Celede had returned from Lothlorien, Gilraen said farewell to Rivendell, choosing to live out the rest of her days with her people. That had been the last time Celede saw her. Elladan and Elrohir had brought news of her passing to Celede and her father just over a decade ago. The loss had greatly saddened Celede, who had been very fond of Aragorn's mother. Gilraen's death also reminded her of the impending deaths of herself and Arwen someday in the future. She was determined, however, not to waste her little time remaining in this world wallowing in self pity.
Another flash of lightning lit up the hall as Celede quietly sidled up to the library door and peered through the crack. She saw a lit candle on the desk, illuminating an old map with curling edges, as if it had been rolled up for quite some time. Then her father strode into view, his back to her, and leaned over the map. Even though it was the middle of the night, he was fully dressed in brown robes and his hair was intricately braided in its customary style, with one thin braid in the back and the rest of his hair loose. Two strands of hair on either side of his face were woven into intricate patterns by his shoulders, accentuating the sharp features of his face.
"And what do you expect, Gandalf? That this hobbit will make it to Rivendell alive?" Elrond asked aloud. Celede's eyes widened. Mithrandir was here?
Celede had not seen Mithrandir for many years. Coupled with the fact that she felt guilty for eavesdropping on her father, Celede decided to simply open the door and make her presence known.
"Father?" she asked. Elrond whipped around.
"Celede? What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night," he exclaimed.
"I could ask you the same question," Celede said calmly. As she entered the library, she immediately spied Mithrandir lying on one of the couches, his head propped up against one of the armrests.
"Mithrandir?" her cheerful greeting died on her lips at the sight of him lying weakly on the couch, "Are you alright?"
"Hello, my dear," he told her, hastily rising to a sitting position, but with a grimace of pain that did not go unnoticed by Celede.
"I will confess that I have seen better days," he said.
Celede frowned, turning back to her father.
"What's going on? A hobbit is coming to Rivendell?"
"It is a long story, Celede," Elrond said tiredly.
"I'm all ears," said a voice from behind Celede. Arwen was standing in the doorway, dressed in a similar fashion to Celede, although her hair was pulled away from her face by several small braids woven intricately throughout her long hair. Celede realized that it must have been Arwen's footsteps she had heard descend the stairs. Arwen must have been listening as well and hid when she heard Celede approach.
Elrond sighed.
"See the trouble that you cause, arriving on my doorstep in the dead of night," he said to Mithrandir, although there was no anger in his voice.
Resigned, Elrond looked to Mithrandir to see if he would speak first. When Gandalf didn't, Elrond began.
"According to Mithrandir, the One Ring may have been found," he said slowly, "in the hands of a hobbit, no less. It seems Bilbo Baggins acquired the ring while on his quest with the Dwarves to take back Erebor."
Celede frowned. Bilbo Baggins had only just arrived in Rivendell to retire. While he had looked quite young for his 111 years when he first arrived, Celede had watched in astonishment as he aged before her eyes with each passing day he spent in Rivendell.
"So, the ring is here? The One Ring? Right under our noses in Rivendell, and we didn't sense that?" Celede said skeptically.
"And it doesn't explain why Mithrandir would arrive in the middle of the night just to tell us," Arwen added.
"I'm not finished yet," Elrond told them with a small frown. The sisters looked at him expectantly.
"Before he left, Mithrandir persuaded Bilbo to leave the ring in question to his nephew, Frodo Baggins. Then he traveled to Isengard to meet with Saruman, where he was…delayed."
Celede knew who Saruman was, as he had visited Rivendell before. In fact, when Bilbo had arrived in Rivendell for the first time, Saruman had come to Rivendell to conference with Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond over the sword found in Dol Goldur. Saruman had always struck Celede as someone who was cold hearted and not to be trifled with. Mithrandir's wince as Elrond hesitantly mentioned his "delay" suggested something further was amiss, although Elrond did not elaborate and Celede did not press further.
"I was supposed to meet him in Bree, outside of the Shire," Mithrandir added regretfully, "At the Inn of the Prancing Pony. But by the time I got there, the Inn had been nearly destroyed. The innkeeper told me Frodo and his three other hobbit companions had been pursued by the Nazgul, who devastated the place after Frodo disappeared. The fact that Frodo was pursued by the Nazgul, Lord Elrond, also adds evidence to my claim that he carries the One Ring."
Mithrandir glanced at Elrond meaningfully. Elrond gave a lithe shrug of his shoulders, but Celede could tell he was thinking deeply about Mithrandir's words.
Gandalf's face became very solemn once more.
"My reason for coming here is that Rivendell is the nearest safe haven to where Frodo is. He may still be pursued by the Ringwraiths. In fact, I have no doubt of it," Gandalf said.
"What would you have me do, Gandalf?" Elrond replied, "Send out a patrol of my finest Elves in the thick of a stormy night to bring back a hobbit who may or may not have the One Ring while Nazgul roam the lands? I will not condemn them to death. I'm sorry, Gandalf."
Gandalf sighed, as if expecting this response.
"There is one more thing you should know," he said, "Frodo and the other hobbits are not alone. A man is with them. The local townspeople know him as Strider, but here, I believe, he is known as Estel."
Celede heard Arwen's sharp intake of breath at this news.
"Father, we must send help," Arwen said immediately, taking a step towards her father. Elrond looked at her in surprise.
"If Aragorn is with them, then there is even less reason for me to send out help," he exclaimed, "Aragorn is more than capable of bringing them here safely."
"Not against all of the Nazgul!" Arwen said vehemently, "We cannot afford to lose the wayward party. If this Frodo Baggins does indeed have the One Ring, then we must not let it fall into enemy hands at any cost. That is, at any cost save for the life of the last heir to the throne of Gondor. We must make sure they arrive here safely. All of them."
Elrond paused at this. Celede knew Arwen's logic was sound, but her motives were not entirely based on this logic.
"Very well, daughter. Your reasoning is valid. I will send out a patrol as soon as the storm is over," Elrond finally said.
"That will be too late. They must leave now," said Arwen. Elrond raised a slim eyebrow.
"If you haven't noticed, daughter, there is a storm outside. It will make traveling extremely slow. A patrol leaving after the storm will still be able to reach them in the same amount of time, and they will not be as tired out from the journey either."
Celede saw Arwen about to refuse, but then Arwen's jaw clenched as if to hold back her tongue.
"Very well," she forced out, but with a gleam of determination in her eye. Arwen was going to leave, Celede realized. She was going to ride out alone in the storm to find Aragorn.
"Keep me updated," Arwen said before sweeping out of the library. Celede turned to her father.
"Let me know of any new developments as well, please," she asked, and Elrond nodded his head.
"Of course," he said.
With a final nod and smile to Mithrandir, Celede hurried out. She ran up to her room and shut the door loudly behind her to give her father the impression she had returned to her bedroom. She waited a few moments before slipping back out. Then she crept as quietly as she could to Arwen's chambers, which were unsurprisingly empty. Taking the long way around to avoid passing the library again, Celede ran outside. She'd forgotten to put on shoes again and her feet splashed across the puddles and wet stones as she ran towards the stables.
As she had predicted, she found Arwen there. Arwen had changed into more suitable riding clothes: thick storm grey robes over thin pale grey ones matched with dark grey gloves. When Celede arrived, Arwen was strapping a saddle onto Asfaloth, a white Elvish stallion who would, by nature, be faster than the steeds of the Ringwraiths. The storm would make it too difficult and tiring to ride bareback when the horse was wet, however, which was why Arwen was currently fastening a saddle to Asfaloth.
"I knew it," Celede said and Arwen whirled around. When she saw who it was, she turned back around to finish tightening the straps.
"I have to make sure he's alive," Arwen murmured against the horse.
"I know that too," Celede said with a sad smile. Arwen paused, then turned around and put a gloved hand under her sister's chin. She gently raised Celede's face to look at her.
"You also know I love him," Arwen said softly. Celede pulled her face away and nodded.
"Of course," she said, "I'm not here to stop you."
Arwen's stance visibly relaxed. Then she opened the stable gate and mounted her horse.
"Arwen," Celede called up to her, "Even though he is most important to you, Aragorn may not be the most important one to bring to Rivendell first. He can fend for himself. You need to get Frodo to safety. If he is indeed carrying the One Ring, the Nazgul will pursue him instead, and Aragorn and the others will be able to get here unimpeded. And we both know that the One Ring must not fall into the hands of Sauron."
Arwen nodded her understanding. Then she urged her horse onward and charged out of the stables into the stormy night.
"Galu!" Celede called to her rapidly departing back. Good luck!
Celede had hoped she would be able to sneak back inside the way she had come, but she should have realized that her father could not be so easily fooled. He stood at the entrance to her bedroom, arms crossed in front of him, when Celede arrived. Celede slowed her pace up the stairs, knowing she'd been caught, and defeatedly pulled her hair loose of its braid to begin wringing out the water from it as she walked. She was thoroughly soaked and shivering with cold.
"You had better have a very, very good explanation for this," Elrond said sharply.
"I do not," Celede replied. The truth would be best at this point, since her father did seem to be rather omnipotent.
"And where is Arwen?" Elrond asked.
"She has left to find Estel and the hobbits," Celede said mechanically.
"You didn't stop her?"
"No."
Elrond frowned.
"I am very disappointed in you and your sister," he said finally. Celede bowed her head in acknowledgement.
"But you will still send out a patrol when the storm has passed?" Celede asked worriedly.
"Of course," Elrond replied, "Especially now that yet another person dear to me is out there with those wraiths."
After a tense moment, his face softened.
"You must be freezing," Elrond said, gesturing to Celede to get to her room, "Go change into something warm. And do not let me find you out of your chambers once more tonight."
Strange how one could be five hundred years old and still be reprimanded by her father like a child. Celede thought it best to obey, however, sinking blissfully back onto her bed. But she did not sleep at all that night. Her thoughts were constantly on Arwen and Estel and the hobbit named Frodo, who had perhaps accidentally become the most important person to Celede and her secret endeavor to destroy Sauron.
ooOOoo
The storm did not let up until late the next afternoon, and by the time a patrol left Rivendell, Celede knew that Arwen would be far ahead of them. Celede spent the time constantly keeping watch by the Ford of Bruinen, knowing this would be the most likely place Arwen would re-enter Rivendell if she was in a hurry. She found a nice perch in a tree overlooking the river and the path she guessed Arwen would come from.
She spent the time singing with the birds in the trees and having them come to perch on her finger. Yet Arwen still did not appear. Celede knew it could be several days before Arwen and whomever she could save would show up, so she went and got her bow and arrows and throwing dagger and passed the time practicing her target skills as well.
By the third day, Celede was restless and anxious. She told herself over and over again that Arwen still had plenty of time to return to Rivendell; there was no reason to be nervous yet. But she had a bad feeling, a slight crawling under her skin that made her jumpy and tense no matter how many arrows she shot. Soon, her perfect hits made her mind wander to Legolas, even though she had resolutely tried to keep him out of her mind ever since their last encounter. Her efforts never worked though and she found herself still, even thirty-eight years later, longing to embrace him or talk to him or simply see his face again.
A whinny in the distance startled Celede out of her thoughts. She knew that voice. It belonged to Asfaloth. Celede leaped to a crouching position on her branch, nocking an arrow and pulling her bow taut in one fluid motion. Soon she could hear horse's hooves striking the ground above the gentle rush of the River Bruinen flowing over the pebbles at the Ford. There was definitely more than one horse, however. Arwen was being pursued.
Suddenly, Arwen burst into Celede's line of sight from above the hill on the other side of the river. Asfaloth steadily but sure-footedly cantered down the incline and across the Ford. He was closely followed by the cloaked Nazgul on their black steeds. Celede kept her bow aimed at them for a moment, counting swiftly. All nine of them were pursuing Arwen. Celede wouldn't be able to shoot them all down before they reached her sister, and she realized that her arrows would probably not have any effect on them either. She lowered her bow slowly.
Suddenly, one of them screamed and Celede had to resist the urge to cover her ears. No living creature made such a horrible, pained shriek.
The wraiths' horses reared and added their own shrill voices to the cacophony. They seemed hesitant to enter the water though. This gave Arwen time to reach the other side and turn back to face them.
Then one of the wraiths spoke in a low raspy snarl that reflected the tortured beings the Nazgul had become.
"Give up the Halfling, She-Elf."
Arwen drew her sword in one swift motion.
"If you want him, come and claim him," she retorted. Celede realized that there was a small, hooded figure riding in front of her. Frodo?
But Celede didn't have time to wonder about that. What was Arwen doing, urging the Ringwraiths to come at her?
The wraiths, as one, drew their swords. Nine Morgul blades glinted maliciously, all of them pointed at Arwen. Then they began to cross the Ford into Rivendell. As the lead Nazgul urged his horse to move faster, Celede prepared to draw her long dagger and jump out of the tree to fend them off, although she knew that would be a futile struggle.
But Arwen did have a plan, after all. She began speaking to the water surrounding her, at first quietly but then with more courage. Her words reverberated with the power and magic of the Elves.
"Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!"
As she began to chant the phrase again, Celede joined in, pushing all the power she could muster into the words, urging the waters to do their bidding.
Waters of the Misty Mountains, listen to the great word; flow waters of Bruinen against the Ringwraiths!
The river responded. Swollen from the storm that had just passed through, a cascade of water burst around the bend and charged the Nazgul, who all looked upriver in panic towards the sound. Even Arwen turned in surprise at the sheer power of the water she and Celede had released. Celede distinctly saw the shape of horses forming in the water as the river raced towards the wraiths. Seeing the barrage of water coming at them, the Nazgul futilely tried to run away downstream, but they could not outrun the river. With a crash of the waves and much screaming from the Nazguls, the wraiths and their horses disappeared under the raging water.
Celede rushed down the tree. She heard labored moaning that was definitely not coming from her sister.
"No!" she heard Arwen cry suddenly,
The small figure in front of her began to fall off Asfaloth, and Arwen quickly dismounted to catch him and lower him gently to the ground.
"Frodo, no. Frodo, don't give in. Not now," she heard Arwen plead with him, her voice pained.
Celede ran to the pair just as Arwen brought Frodo's head into her arms. Arwen seemed unharmed, except for a scratch on her cheek. Celede was startled to see tears fall as Arwen held Frodo to her.
"Arwen, I'm here," Celede said as she dropped to her knees next to her sister. Arwen gently pulled Frodo away from herself, and Celede saw his face for the first time. Her eyes widened in surprise.
She'd seen Frodo before. He had been the little boy standing by the river with Bilbo in one of the visions the Mirror of Galadriel had shown her so long ago in Lothlorien. Suddenly, everything made sense. The image she'd seen of Bilbo in the caves had been to show her that Bilbo had indeed stolen the One Ring from the emaciated creature living there. Then he had passed it along to Frodo before coming to Rivendell to retire. The outline of a ring in Frodo's shirt pocket confirmed this. Mithrandir had been right all along.
Frodo's eyes were glassy, however. The sparkling bright blue she remembered had been glossed over with a dull film. Celede knew Frodo's time was nearly gone. He was fading too fast; they'd never get him to their father in time. Something had to be done. Although Celede's own healing skills were very limited, Lord Elrond had still taught her a thing or two over the years. Celede put one hand on the side of Frodo's head, forcing his unseeing eyes to face her, and began her work.
When she looked up again, a Rivendell patrol was approaching from the end of the river the Nazgul had been washed down. Arwen walked over to meet them and began talking to them hurriedly. Celede realized they must have felt the dark evil of the Nazgul earlier and come to investigate.
"There is a dying hobbit here. He needs to get to Lord Elrond immediately," she heard Arwen say, "Let my sister ride one of your horses back with me. I need her aid to get him back alive."
The patrol knew better than to disobey their Lord's daughter. Immediately, an Elf dismounted. His brown mare walked over to Celede, nudging her arm gently. Celede rose, picking up Frodo in her arms. It was a strange experience to be looking down at a full-grown person that still fit in her arms. She quickly handed him over to Arwen, who had mounted Asfaloth. Then she mounted the mare and the pair rushed back to Rivendell as fast as they possibly could.
ooOOoo
Frodo was in pain. Actually, that was the biggest understatement of the century. Frodo was in agony, tormented by the stab wound of a Morgul blade. The wound not only stung and bled, but also burned and ached and made him incredibly nauseous and dizzy. The ride with the Elf maiden, who had introduced herself as Arwen, hadn't helped in the slightest. As he struggled to stay on the horse, the world began going in and out of focus. Blackness began to encroach upon the sides of his vision.
By the time Frodo finally got off the horse, he found he couldn't breathe without sending waves of harsh pain throughout his entire body. He vaguely heard Arwen telling him not to give in to the darkness, but he couldn't help it. Even if he wanted to resist, he didn't think he could. Everything was fading more rapidly, becoming blurry and black.
Then the darkness retreated suddenly, and Frodo was gazing into a bright white light that enveloped him like fog. From out of the pearly white fog appeared a face, the face of another beautiful Elf, although he supposed all Elves were beautiful. This maiden's face was rounder, her hair light blonde and her eyes blue-grey, although she had the same cheekbones and shape of the eyes as Arwen. When she spoke, her voice sounded very much like Arwen's, musical and soothing.
Im Celede. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad.
In his years of living with Bilbo, Frodo had picked up some Elvish words here and there. The words this Elf and Arwen had spoken to him were thankfully simple enough for him to grasp their meaning.
I am Celede. I've come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.
He felt himself being lifted off the ground and jostled back onto a horse, sending waves of pain surging out from his wound. He heard himself whimpering with every breath but couldn't stop, as if his mind was no longer connected to his body. Celede's face suddenly vanished into the fog, and darkness began to invade the corners of his vision once more.
But then he heard Celede's voice in his mind again, this time speaking to him in the Common Tongue.
Do not give up, Frodo. Stay with me, just a while longer. I promise. We are taking you to help, but you need to remain in this world, with me, until then. Fight the evil, Frodo. Fight the darkness. Hold out just a little longer.
He had no idea how he was hearing her, but she never stopped talking to him in this manner, and he clung to the sound of her voice. It was as if he had been falling off a cliff and Celede's voice was a rope that had been thrown to him. It didn't pull him back to safety, but it kept him from falling further into the black unknown.
ooOOoo
Celede was mentally exhausted by the time they reached the courtyard. Arwen pulled Frodo off Asfaloth and was hurrying up the stairs into the villa by the time Celede managed to fall unsteadily off her own horse. Muttering words of gratitude to the mare, Celede took a few deep breaths, mustered her strength, and ran after Arwen to the healing wards.
Lord Elrond met her on the way there. As they both walked quickly to their destination, Celede explained the situation to her father.
"Arwen has Frodo, but he is almost gone. I did what I could to keep him from passing into shadow, but I don't know how successful I was."
"If he is still with us, then there is a good chance I can heal him. Not many creatures of Middle Earth would still be alive at this point. The hobbit is strong," Elrond said thoughtfully.
"Another thing, Father. Frodo does indeed carry the One Ring."
Elrond paused at the entrance to an empty room of the healing ward. Arwen was inside, gently laying Frodo onto a bed. Mithrandir was there too, worriedly fluttering behind Arwen as she pulled the covers over Frodo. Frodo gave a choked gasp.
"You are sure of this?" Elrond asked quietly.
"Absolutely."
"Then we must send word to the other races of Middle Earth for a meeting to discuss what is to be done. The Ring cannot stay in Rivendell. There is already trouble on our borders," Elrond said grimly. Celede looked at him in surprise.
"You mean orcs again? How do you know?"
When Elrond continued to look somber, Celede realized she knew the answer.
"The patrol. Are they alright?"
"They were ambushed by a party of orcs. It is a miracle Arwen missed them. No one was killed, but they retreated here in disarray this morning with many injured. I am told the orcs were defeated, but I do not know how many other groups patrol the land outside of Rivendell."
"So Aragorn and the others are still out there? Alone?"
"Yes."
"Father!" Arwen exclaimed, noticing he was standing outside the door. He took a step inside, but then turned back to Celede with a slight frown.
"Don't tell me you are going to go back out there."
"Of course I am. They're in danger, and they don't even know it. They can't outrun any orc ambush, and Aragorn won't be able to fight off a party of orcs all by himself. I doubt the hobbits are very good at fighting."
"You can't-"
Celede played her final card, even though a raging headache was making itself known.
"If I don't, then Arwen surely will. And she's exhausted, Father, you must see that. I doubt she's slept in three days. I will be safe, I promise."
Lord Elrond still did not look happy, but suddenly Frodo gave another pained groan and Elrond's attention shifted. He was a healer, after all, and could not stand idly by a patient in pain.
"Go then. May the Vala protect you," was all Elrond said before he was rushing to Frodo's side, already speaking soothing words of healing to him. Arwen looked at Celede curiously, but Celede just gestured to her sister to help their father with Frodo.
She ran back outside. The brown mare was still waiting expectantly for her at the entrance to Rivendell. Celede swiftly mounted her and trotted towards the stables. She opened the pens of two horses she knew were gentle but fiercely loyal to their riders and told them to follow her as she charged out of Rivendell.
ooOOoo
Sam was worried, very worried. He was wandering the woods with a strange man he had only just met. This man not only referred to himself as Strider (which, in Samwise Gamgee's opinion, was a very shady name), but had taken them from Bree through marshes and forests and fields and who knows what else, all the while claiming he was guiding them to Rivendell (which seemed to be a bit too good to be true in Sam's fine opinion).
Then Frodo had gotten stabbed because Sam and the other hobbits had started a fire, Sam thought guiltily. They'd been so stupid, and Sam blamed himself for what happened to Frodo because of it. Frodo's wound was gruesome, making Sam fear for Frodo's life. He didn't know what he would do without the person he gardened for, a hobbit who also happened to be his good friend.
Then, just when all hope seemed lost, an Elf, a real Elf maiden, had suddenly entered the camp with Strider and taken Frodo away. To Rivendell, supposedly. This officially confirmed Sam's thinking that Strider was more than a little off his rocker, since they had been hearing the wraiths following them through the night and Strider had just let the Elf and Frodo practically run right into them.
Now it was evening two days later, and Sam found himself still allowing Strider to guide him deeper into the forest. He convinced himself that he had no choice, since they were already in unfamiliar territory. Sam was also forced to admit, although he'd never say so out loud, that he innately trusted Strider, despite his suspicious name. Strider seemed kind and patient, willing to answer all of his or Merry's or Pippin's questions, no matter how outlandish they seemed. This was even after Sam had barged in on him and may or may not have threatened him with the name "Longshanks". And after all, Strider had saved their lives twice in the few days they had known him; once when he sheltered them from the Nazgul attack, and once at Weathertop.
Same glanced ahead at Strider. He had been very quiet since Frodo's departure, slashing through the undergrowth more viciously than necessary to continue following the path. Sam knew that brooding look; he'd seen it plenty of times in the bar in Hobbiton. Unfortunately, most of those looks had been directed towards a certain lovely Rosie Cotton, which they really shouldn't have been in Sam's good opinion.
"Is she important to you, Strider?" he asked quietly. Merry and Pippin had fallen behind a bit, snacking on apples and chatting and laughing with each other, albeit nervously.
Strider continued walking, and after a moment Sam thought that Strider must not have heard him. He didn't dare ask again, however.
"I would give my life and more for her," Strider finally answered. Sam nodded. No wonder Strider was so silent all of a sudden. He had sent the love of his life into danger in the hope that Frodo would be saved in the process. If Sam had been forced to send Rosie…he shuddered. Sam suddenly respected Strider much more and was also filled with gratitude. So what if his name was funny.
"Thank you," Sam said aloud, knowing Stride would understand why he was grateful. Strider stopped in his tracks and Sam almost ran into him.
"You are welcome," he said with a small smile. They stood that way for a moment, each acknowledging their newfound respect of the other, until a rumbling sound in the distance caused both of them to look up the path.
"Get down," Strider said, hurrying back to Merry and Pippin to tell them as well. The four of them ran off the path and hid behind a large log.
"What's going on?" Pippin asked loudly. Sam could've whacked him.
"Someone's coming," was all Strider said before he put his finger to his lips to tell them to be silent.
ooOOoo
Celede was about to continue searching down the path when she heard a sudden loud snap of a twig. Unsure of who or what it was, she brought the horses to a stop, dismounted, and drew her long dagger out of its sheath. The noise had come from close by, so a bow and arrow wouldn't do her much good. There was a large log just a little ways off of the path. Perhaps someone was hiding over there…
ooOOoo
Pippin sucked in a silent breath. Why had he moved to scratch that itch, and why did that stick have to be right underneath him? The horses they'd heard had stopped, and besides their heavy breathing, he couldn't hear much of any other sound. The slight rustling sound he thought he heard once could have been a footstep or just the wind playing with the leaves. He looked at Strider anxiously. Strider was looking unseeingly into the distance, and Pippin could tell he was focused on listening to what was on the path.
Suddenly, Strider leaped up from his hiding position. Whilst drawing his sword, he leaped over the log and Pippin heard the sharp metallic clang of sword striking sword. He jumped and grabbed Merry's arm. Merry shrugged him off impatiently.
There were no further clangs however, which was surprising to Pippin. Then he heard Aragorn speak, not in the Common Tongue. A woman's voice answered, sweet and gentle. Pippin jumped up from his hiding spot, even though Merry tried to pull him back.
Strider was talking to a young woman who vaguely resembled Arwen but had blonde hair and grey eyes. Although they had different features, both were extremely beautiful. Pippin frowned and cleared his throat loudly. He thought it was nigh on time to set the record straight.
"So who exactly are you, Strider?" Pippin asked nonchalantly, "You can't just be a Ranger if you have so many of these fine Elf ladies coming to your aid all the time."
Strider blinked in confusion. The Elf maiden laughed and said something in Elvish again, to which Strider replied sharply, "Does it matter?"
Then the Elf maiden turned to Pippin, still smiling. Pippin took a step back, unsure of what to do now that the attention of this ethereal Elf was directed towards him.
"You must be one of the hobbits," she said in the Common Tongue. She had a slight accent, the words lilting over her tongue, which Pippin decided was not unpleasant.
"Yes. My name is Peregrin Took, but most call me Pippin. Over there is Sam and Merry, or Samwise Gamgee and Meriadoc Brandybuck to be perfectly formal. Although, we do favor nicknames in-"
"Excuse me, my lady. I don't mean to impose, but could you tell us what has become of Frodo? Another one of your kind took him away," Sam interrupted. He and Merry came to stand on the other side of Pippin.
The Elf said something in Elvish to which Strider shrugged.
"You are quite strong willed, aren't you," the Elf reflected quietly at Sam, "But very loyal to your friends."
"I'm just Mister Frodo's gardener, actually," Sam said meekly.
"Nevertheless, you consider him your friend. Do not worry, Samwise Gamgee. Frodo reached Rivendell safely. My father was tending to him when I left to find you. The roads are dangerous nowadays, and we had best make haste to Rivendell if we wish to avoid any unwanted confrontations with orcs. You have already been through enough this trip, I think," the Elf said sympathetically. Sam visibly relaxed, allowing himself to smile even. Frodo was going to be just fine.
"Your father? Who exactly are you? And who was the other Elf who was here?" asked Merry, always thinking.
"The Elf you met earlier was Arwen, daughter of Elrond. I am Celede, the other daughter of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. It is a pleasure to meet you, friends of Frodo," Celede said politely.
Strider broke in then.
"Celede is right. We will have time to talk later. Now we should focus on getting to Rivendell with all haste."
"But you only have three horses, my lady," Merry said in confusion.
"Two of you can ride this horse, and one can ride with Strider or me. These are Elvish horses and will do what I tell them, regardless of the skill of their riders. And I doubt you will ever experience a smoother ride than the ones you will have on the backs of these horses."
Merry and Pippin chose to ride one horse together. Their belongings were all packed on the back of Celede's horse while Sam sat in front of Strider. Once everyone was settled, Celede gave a sharp command to her horse and Merry and Pippin's horse, and they immediately began to head down the path the way she had come. Strider and Sam followed.
Sam felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement. He was constantly worrying about Frodo, and he was beginning to wonder, like Pippin, who Strider really was, but now he was actually on his way to Rivendell. On a real horse, no less! He'd have a tale or two to tell his Old Gaffer back home in the Shire.
He was going to be in a real Elvish haven. Sam had always loved reading about the Elves in books and such. When he and Frodo had seen wood elves leaving Middle Earth on their journey to Bree, Sam had felt inexplicably sad at the occasion. But now Sam was going to experience one of the homes of the Elves firsthand, He would surely get to meet more Elves and perhaps get to know the Elves he had already met. Celede seemed foreign but gentle and kind at the same time, and Sam hoped he would get the chance to get to talk with her some more.
But first, he had to make sure Frodo was alright.
ooOOoo
Celede had approached the log cautiously, her long dagger out defensively in front of her. Suddenly, a dark figure leaped out from the other side of the log and she heard the sound of a sword leaving its sheath. She instinctively moved to block the figure's attack, and the sharp clang of metal as their swords struck echoed around them. It was only when both participants had stopped moving that they finally recognized each other.
"Celede? What are you doing here?" Aragorn asked in surprise, immediately lowering his weapon. Celede did the same, sheathing her dagger over her shoulder.
"When I told my father I'd be careful, I was worrying about orcs and the like. I wasn't anticipating an attack by you, Estel," she said dryly, but with a hint of a smile on her face.
"Forgive me."
"I guess I must, since you did not actually succeed."
"I thank the Vala for your skills in defense. Did Arwen send you? Is she safe?"
"Yes. They both arrived safely."
Aragorn and Celede stared at each other. Celede had not seen Estel since Lothlorien. He looked older, but that only made him seem more regal and wise. He had grown so much from the little boy who had made her laugh ages ago. She had been about to move and embrace him when someone cleared his throat expectantly.
"So who exactly are you, Strider? You can't just be a Ranger if you have so many of these fine Elf ladies coming to your aid all the time."
Celede was surprised at the strange accent with which the hobbit spoke. It had an odd twang to it, but a rhythmic flow as well. She laughed at his words.
"The new name suits you, Estel. I wonder how many more you are going to call yourself before you accept the name your mother gave you," she teased. Aragorn did not find this amusing, however.
"Does it matter?" he snapped. Celede sighed and turned her attention to the hobbits.
As she began a conversation with the hobbit in front of her, another two came out of hiding behind the log. One had a curious glint in his eye, while the other looked much more solemn. Pippin soon introduced them as Merry and Sam, respectively.
Sam quickly asked Celede what had become of Frodo.
She turned to Aragorn and said, "So the young Ringbearer has quite the group of steadfast friends. He is very lucky."
Celede replied to Sam's question and the hobbits all rejoiced. Soon afterwards, the group had mounted the horses and was heading towards Rivendell. They had set out in the evening, however, so they had only gone a short way before the horses had trouble seeing and the group was forced to stop for the night. Celede was reluctant to start a fire, knowing orcs would surely be attracted to such a signal, but the night was cold and the hobbits were tired and shivering. They seemed so small and out of place that Celede empathized with them. She let them sit with the horses while she and Aragorn went to find firewood, but Sam insisted on helping out.
Once a small fire was lit, the group ate most of their remaining provisions. Since they were nearly to Rivendell, there was no need to ration out the food, and Celede could only stare in surprise at the amount of food Pippin consumed. She never thought that one so small could eat so much food. No one felt like talking, except for the occasional "Pass the sausages" and such from Pippin. Celede had the feeling that the hobbits were intimidated by her in addition to their general fear of being in unfamiliar territory and their worry for Frodo.
She decided to make them feel more comfortable by asking them about a topic she knew Bilbo Baggins could discuss for days on end.
"So tell me about your home. It's called the Shire, isn't it?"
Sure enough, the hobbits began talking over themselves as they exclaimed about the wonders of their humble home. The hills, the gardens, the food, the drink, the pipeweed, the fireworks…
"You know Gandalf well?" she asked in surprise. She felt strange saying Gandalf; all her life she had called him Mithrandir.
"He pops in every now and then. The children all love him. They run behind his cart with the other little girls and boys and call for him to set off some fireworks just for them. They always cheer so loudly when he does," Sam told her. Celede could imagine Mithrandir chuckling as the children all laughed at his unexpected fireworks. It was just like him.
They talked about the Shire some more, but soon the hobbits decided to retire. They were not used to traveling all day and being constantly worried, and they did not have the natural stamina of the Elves as well.
"You can sleep too. I will keep watch," Celede said to Aragorn, reverting back to Elvish.
"We are almost to Rivendell. There is no dire need for me to rest. I can keep you company," he replied.
"As you wish."
The fire crackled gently in front of them for a long while. Celede found the flames oddly soothing as they rippled up from the wood and turned to smoke in the sky. She rubbed her temples to try to ease the pain still present in her head.
"Your sister says you know," Aragorn said at last. Celede did not need to ask him what he meant.
"In all honesty, you were not very good at concealing your feelings."
Celede refused to elaborate, and there was a pause between them. She could tell Aragorn was struggling to ask something, but she didn't try to help him.
"Do you accept us?" he said at last. Celede stared into the fire for a moment, the memories of the Mirror of Galadriel flooding back to her. If Aragorn and Arwen hadn't fallen in love, Celede and her sister would both be able to survive the dark times ahead.
"Of course," she heard herself say, "You cannot control whom you fall in love with. I know you, and I know her, and I do not know two people more meant for each other."
At least she spoke the truth. Aragorn seemed to relax slightly at her words, but he was still tense.
"Arwen told me that she would give up her immortality for me," he whispered. Celede nodded, not denying his statement. Aragorn's shoulders seemed to sag.
"I would not be the cause of her death," Aragorn continued, almost pleadingly, "I would have her leave for the Undying Lands, to live out her life with her people."
Celede couldn't believe what she was hearing. Having Aragorn and Arwen separate would make everything alright again. Arwen's life wouldn't be tied to Sauron's, and Celede could live. She could leave the destruction of Sauron to those more likely to succeed. She could pursue a life with Legolas, even.
With a sigh of longing, Celede extinguished that hope as quickly as she had conjured it. It was too late now. No matter what, Aragorn and Arwen would still love each other. Already, Celede could not picture a son of Aragorn who was not also a son of Arwen. She suddenly found herself defending the thing she wished had never been formed.
"It is her choice, not yours," Celede said, "You cannot force her to leave if she loves you."
Celede gently put her hand on Aragorn's chest, where she felt the Evenstar jewel beneath his clothing.
"She has chosen you," Celede continued, "You cannot abandon her."
"Perhaps I was not thinking things through-"
"Do you love her?"
"Of course."
"Then let her love you. You have never forced Arwen to do anything. Just because she wishes to die when you die should not affect the life you may share with her now. You would wish the same thing were you in her position."
Aragorn said nothing in reply. He seemed lost in thought, and Celede let him sit and think.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. By daybreak, the hobbits were beginning to stir. Pippin let out a loud yawn and stretched. Merry whacked him with his already rolled blanket, and Pippin yelped in protest. Celede watched them silently. She helped Merry and Pippin mount their horse, then mounted her own. Suppressing a yawn, Celede gave the horses the command to walk. She found that she was a bit tired from her sleepless night. Glancing over at Aragorn, she noticed he too looked weary. She prayed to the Vala the rest of their journey would pass safely.
Her prayers were answered when the group finally reached the top of the valley that encompassed Rivendell. She saw Sam, Merry, and Pippin gasp in astonishment at the sight of the Elvish haven carved into the valley before them. It was hard to swallow her smile.
"The Last Homely House East of the Sea," she said proudly, "There dwells Elrond, son of Eärendil, Lord of Rivendell."
She urged the horses on, feeling a wave of relief as she felt them pass through the wards around Rivendell. They were safe now.
"We made it," Merry whispered delightedly to Pippin, although Celede could still hear him.
As they passed through the open gate, Henduil came to greet them and take their horses.
"Henduil," Celede said to him, dismounting. Henduil gave her a respectful nod and a friendly smile as he took her horse. Celede helped Merry and Pippin dismount as she heard Henduil greet Aragorn as well, referring to him as Estel.
"Welcome to Rivendell," he then said to the hobbits in perfect Common Tongue.
Sam, Merry, and Pippin, eyes wide, were trying to take everything in all at once.
"I can have one of my patrol take you to the guest quarters, if you like," he continued.
"I'd like to see Master Frodo, actually, if I can," Sam replied immediately, finally tearing his gaze away from the architecture. Henduil looked to Celede, who nodded.
"Of course," she said, "I can take you all there now myself. Then I can show you your rooms."
Aragorn helped Henduil bring the horses to the stables while Celede brought the hobbits to the healing wards. When they finally arrived in the airy veranda Frodo had been placed, all three rushed to his bedside.
Mithrandir was sitting in a rocking chair by Frodo's other side, smoking a pipe. He smiled upon seeing the hobbits, who were all peering anxiously at the unconscious Frodo.
"Is he going to be alright?" Sam asked nervously.
"I daresay he will be. His body is recuperating, but he should be awake and able in a few more days," Mithrandir said cheerily, "Lord Elrond is a master of healing."
Celede had been standing by the door, watching the reunion with a smile. She felt a presence by her suddenly and turned to see Lord Elrond himself enter the room.
"Father!" she said happily, giving him a hug. He held her close for a moment before gently pulling away. He did not like to show affection in the presence of others.
"I see you have arrived safely," he said.
"I promised I would."
Elrond smiled as he turned his attention to the hobbits. They had been watching the interaction with curious eyes.
"Welcome to Rivendell, Master hobbits," Elrond said graciously. They all turned to bow awkwardly towards him. Elrond waved his hand.
"There is no need for that," he said, although Celede could tell he was secretly enjoying the fluster of the hobbits before him.
"Thank you, Master Elrond, sir," said Sam gratefully, "I was afraid for a moment we were going to lose him."
"As was I," said Elrond seriously, "But your friend is a fighter."
Elrond left a short while afterwards, but Celede hung around for a while. When the hobbit were finally satisfied that that Frodo was alive and going to be alright, Celede took them to their rooms.
"You are free to wander about the grounds and the house," she told them, "But try to stay out of other people's quarters."
"Yes, my lady. Thank you for your generosity," Merry told her. Celede smiled in reply.
ooOOoo
Two days later, Frodo was finally awake. He remained in bed for a while longer to allow his wound to heal sufficiently. Mithrandir and Sam were constantly by his bedside.
Celede never disturbed them, until she offered to take the evening meal to them one day. She entered to see Sam and Frodo chatting with each other. Mithrandir, still smoking his pipe, was watching them in amusement, occasionally chuckling.
Mithrandir looked up as Celede entered.
"Ah, my dear," he said cheerfully. He was back to his old self, Celede thought with relief.
"Frodo, it is high time you met one of the most endearing Elves in Rivendell. This is Celede, daughter of Elrond."
Celede set down the tray on a nearby table and smiled at Frodo. He was still so young, barely grown from the little boy she had seen in the mirror. She was glad to see the spark of his blue eyes had returned though.
"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Frodo Baggins," she said. Frodo nodded to her. He did not seem as intimidated by her as the other hobbits had been when they had first met her.
"I am eternally grateful to your father for saving my life," he told her, "If there was anything I could do to repay him-"
"There is no need," she interrupted, "My father is simply pleased that he was able to help."
"Still-"
"Frodo, you are as much responsible for your recovery as my father was. He has told me himself that you are extraordinarily strong, and that you would not have survived otherwise."
Frodo blushed. Celede was glad the color returning to his cheeks as well.
"I don't know about that," he muttered.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, you don't do yourself justice. Elves can't lie, remember?" Sam told him. Then he paused and looked at Celede.
"You can't, can you?"
Celede simply smiled mysteriously. Frodo chuckled. Then with a determined gesture, he sat up off the pillows.
"If I'm so tough, I think it's high time I got out of this bed," he said.
"Are you sure, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, looking to Mithrandir to see if it was a good idea.
"Absolutely," Frodo said, throwing back the covers. Mithrandir shrugged.
With Sam hovering over him, Frodo slowly swung his feet off the bed. Then he took Sam's hand and eased himself off the bed.
He looked up at Celede as he stood by the bed, and she smiled encouragingly.
Frodo let out a deep breath.
"Did that hurt?" Sam asked.
"No, Sam," Frodo said, "That felt wonderful."
He took a few hesitant steps towards the door, but then straightened up fully and continued to walk. Celede noticed a slight hitch in his breath. The wound still pained him, but Frodo was determined not to let it show. Elrond was right; Frodo was a tough little hobbit.
"Now, I'd like to see some of Rivendell. And I haven't yet seen Merry and Pippin," he said.
"They've been too busy exploring," Sam replied, "I don't think they've sat still long enough for anyone to tell them you're awake."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Frodo asked before striding out the door. Sam followed excitedly.
Celede was left alone with Mithrandir.
"I see why you like him so," she said finally, "Frodo is quite a surprise."
"Agreed, my dear," Mithrandir said, "Although I think all hobbits share that unique characteristic. They seem like such simple creatures, but they really are amazing folk."
They sat in amicable silence for a moment. Then Elrond strode in. If he was surprised at the empty bed, he didn't show it.
"Gandalf, we must talk," he said abruptly. Gandalf saw the seriousness in the Elf Lord's eyes and nodded. He rose out of his chair and began to follow Elrond out of the room. Elrond gestured graciously to Gandalf to lead the way out the door. Then he turned to speak to Celede.
"We will be having guests here soon to decide what is to be done about the Ring," Elrond told her, "I'd like you to be responsible for welcoming them here. Keep an eye out for your brothers as well. I have sent word for them to return to attend this council."
"Yes, Father," Celede replied. "May I ask who is coming?"
"Men, Dwarves, Elves. Whoever chooses to answer my summons."
"Elves? Which Elves?" Celede asked, suddenly nervous to hear the answer.
"The Elves of Mirkwood were invited. King Thranduil declined attendance, but I believe he is sending his son, Prince Legolas, in his stead," Elrond said.
When Celede said nothing further, Elrond left to follow Gandalf.
Celede's heart was sputtering and leaping in her chest at the news. She was supposed to greet all of the guests. That meant she was going to have to see Legolas again, and soon. Celede told herself over and over that he probably hated her by now. He'd had nearly thirty years to nurse her rejection of him, and she didn't know what to expect.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop a flutter of excitement and anticipation from rushing through her. Without thinking, the image of him with his deep blue eyes gazing into hers and his strong arms embracing her came unbidden to her mind. She shook herself of those thoughts immediately. There was no way she could think like that and uphold her rejection of him. But still, the fact remained. Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was coming to Rivendell.