They had convened together at last. Within the Council of Elrond, there was Gandalf: The grey pilgrim, Mithrandir, Olórin. With him was the congregation of Men, Elves and Dwarves. They sat in a semi-circle, seated before the last homely house around a wide stone pedestal. Nobles and leaders of every province and kingdom were here.
Many knew in their hearts that this meeting was somewhat futile. The wisest of the men and dwarf lords, Elrond, Gandalf, and the impossibly tall warrior looking down on them from above like some great and stalking eagle, knew that this all should have occurred sooner. They knew that action should have been taken long ago against the threats now marshalling against them. Yet decisions could now be made. Opportunity, to stop the gears of war and death from turning.
Everyone that had been invited had come. But then, the crowd noticed something strange, that there was a newcomer inside the circle. A very small individual, with thick curly hair, youthful features, and a scared look in his eyes, was walking between them. Perhaps he was a dwarf, many speculated. Or a human child? But as others took note of his hairy feet and small stature, they immediately identified him as a Halfling. He was of Shire folk!
Many of the men, and a few of the dwarfs were quite taken aback. Some had believed the stories to be myths, others had just never seen a hobbit until now. Frodo ignored the stares and went to sit next to Gandalf, where his place had been reserved. Everyone that mattered, that could make a difference was now here.
"Strangers from distant lands" The speaker of the council began. His voice was filled with authority, and he wielded it with all the skill and grace of a Shakespearian actor. He was Lord Elrond, and he had called the congregation to order. "Friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer to the threat of Mordor...Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom..." He pauses for a moment, and brings his hand around in an arc. It is time. "...Bring forth the Ring, Frodo".
The young hobbit steps forward, gingerly, every eye in the circle is on him. He takes the ring, placing it on the pedestal, and a collective gasp erupts from every unprepared mouth inside the congregation. Elrond had not taken this decision lightly. He and others had listened to Gandalf's council. After an hour of discussion, having measured and weighed the evidence before them, all had been in agreement. This was indeed the One Ring, and its existence needed to be exposed to the free peoples.
All the myths are true! The ring of power is real! Shocked whispers started to cycle through the group. Even John himself, their unexpected sentinel, is quite taken by the artefact. It was curious that something so small could inspire such fear and doubt in all these people...such a little thing. Something felt wide of the mark. The ring seemed so clean, unblemished, unworn. Gold was soft, a ring would chip and deteriorate over time. As old as it was, it should have been scratched or dirty...yet it was flawless!
A few moments later, there was a light tremor. A subtle, but noticeable wave of power. Something dark, something strong, deeply unnerving. Everyone felt it, and the council of Elrond grew deathly quiet. And then, then came the whispers. Quiet, nearly silent, but there in his ear all the same. "John…John…child of war...walker amongst the stars..." Even for a battle hardened Spartan, the realisation that the ring was speaking to him, was disconcerting.
"What the hell is this thing?" He thought to himself.
John wasn't the only one. Cortana could hear it also, whispering, tempting. "A false mind...not human...not human..." It played on her fears, on her insecurities. "Chief...I can hear voices, just as the legends tell. The ring has a voice!" Chief began to wonder, was this artefact something like an AI? Or was something far more going on inside this simple band of gold.
"So it is true" Breathed a seasoned captain of Gondor, scarcely believing what he is seeing. He is the eldest son of Denethor II the Steward of Gondor. He is High Captain of Ecthelion, the champion of the White Citadel. A hero to the people of Minas Tirith, of Osgiliath, and beyond. Boromir stands, and with an outstretched arm, paces slowly towards the powerful weapon he sees before him.
"A dream..." He began saying, everyone's gaze tracking the man, everyone knowing what he was doing. "...I saw the eastern sky go dark. But in the west, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, crying that doom was near at hand. That Isildur's bane was found!" As if transfixed, he reaches for the ring. "Isildur's bane..." He breathed in awe again with his voice trailing away. He knows with all his soul that the salvation of his people was mere few inches from his grasp!
But Gandalf had seen enough. Buildings began to shake, and Chief, high in his tower, clamped his hands shut on the railings around him, to avoid getting thrown about at the top of his tower. Gandalf rose to his feet. The shadows surrounding the council members began to lengthen and grow, growing ever darker, and the air suddenly became heavy and oppressive, as if in response to the Istari's words.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk.
Ash nazg gimbatul.
Ash nazg thrakatulûk.
Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul"
These were the words that Gandalf spoke, and with every syllable, did entire valley seem to quake and tremble before him. The Spartan's jaw dropped as power tore through Rivendell, causing the entire valley to shake. The last time John had felt tremors like these had been from The Dawn, entering atmosphere over the dried up desserts of Installation 00, the shock of millions of tons of ship tearing through the upper atmosphere. And before that, during the launch of Sabre space superiority fighters from the surface of Reach. Their pilots hurtling towards black sky, rockets burning, never to return to those they died to protect.
Everyone was in shock, no one could have seen it coming. Boromir most of all, and was holding a look of sheer horror, as if he'd just noticed that one of his arms was missing. Elrond on the other hand, was furious. "Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here..." He almost barked as he scolded the old wizard. The soil of Rivendell had now been tainted by the voice of darkness, the power of evil. It would never leave this place.
"I do not ask for your pardon, lord Elrond" Replied an exhausted Gandalf. Something about what he had just done seemed to have had a great effect on him, physically draining him somehow. "But the black speech of Mordor, may yet be heard, in every corner of the west! The ring is altogether, evil!"
He had said his part. But Boromir knew better than Gandalf. Or at least thought he did! As a fatigued Gandalf sat back down, supporting himself with his staff, Boromir, shaking his head, replied: "Nay. Nay it is a gift!" The shocked wizard stared back at him, utterly speechless. "A gift from the foes of Mordor...why not use this ring against them?" The Gondorian captain spoke, regaining his full composure and majesty.
"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood, of my people, are your lands kept safe!" Chief couldn't help but find himself admiring the Captain. Right or wrong, he was willing to say no, no to the elves and powerful wizards who have lived for thousands of years. These were beings who almost all would see as infallible. He had the courage to do all this. And to think that Elrond thought men weak!
His words were filled with passion. Aragorn was nothing but irritated by him. He was ignorant, and dangerously misguided. "Give GONDOR the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him!"
Aragorn had now himself heard enough. "You cannot wield it! None of us can! The one ring answers to Sauron alone, it has no other master!" Boromir confronts the man speaking against him. Who did this man think he was, the king of Gondor?
"And what...would a simple ranger...know of this matter?" He said, in an attempt to put him down and belittle him.
"This is no mere ranger! He is lord Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain and second of his name!" A friend of Aragorn's challenges, standing to defend him. Boromir, began piece it all together, and came to a shocking conclusion. "Aragorn...So this, is Isildur's heir?" The seasoned ranger was very uncomfortable now. This is something he has been trying to run from his entire life!
"And heir to the throne of Gondor!" The prince of Mirkwood continued, "You owe him your allegiance!"
Legolas had defended his old friend well, but Aragorn hadn't wanted it. "S'tharl harl, Legolas (sit down!)". Legolas, realising his mistake, does as asked. Boromir turns back to Legolas. Betraying a mix of powerful emotions, without even uttering a single world. He held both contempt and admiration for this Aragorn. His loyalties were now torn, but he would never admit it.
"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king!" And he sat back down, defeated.
Chief, Frodo, and everyone else who did not already know Aragorn's true heritage were more than surprised. "Well, he certainly kept that quiet, didn't he Chief?" Cortana said to her guardian. John had sensed the man's honour and nobility from the start, but was shocked to hear the true extent of his heritage. He saw parallels with Aragorn and that of the ancient kings of Sparta. They had often been reluctant to properly embrace their Lordship. Often they had wished for the life of someone simpler, like Leonidas. He had been a soldier, not a king at heart.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it!" Gandalf contributed, realising that the squaring off of these individuals were swaying the minds of many around him, some not for the better. Elrond was ready to speak again, now that order had resumed its place.
"You have only one choice. The ring must be destroyed". Boromir hung his head, he had failed the first time to follow the wishes of his father.
Then the dwarf called Gimli stepped forwards, hefting an axe above his head. "Destroyed? Then what are we waiting for?" He strode towards the pedestal. Elrond moved to stop him, but the axe was already swinging, it was too late!
"Waaaaargh!" The dwarf screamed, using all his strength. Metal met metal, and the ring seethed with power. The same power that had struck down Chief when he had stabbed the ring wraith, then destroyed the dwarfs axe.
The force of the shockwave threw Gimli backwards, landing heavy on his back. The other dwarfs ran to help him up, Gimli gazing at the ring with awe and shock. Frodo held his head meanwhile, suddenly feeling a stabling pain as the voice of the ring began to chant in his mind. Gandalf had noticed, and placed a concerned hand on the hobbit's shoulder.
Voices also started whispering in Chief's mind again. He had touched the skin of a wraith, he had experienced the same power as Frodo. "The boy soldier...last of his kind...equal of gods and demons old". He could hear it in his mind. He shook his head back and forth a little, trying to shake it off.
"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess" Elrond began to explain to the slightly concussed warrior, lying beside his kin. "The ring was made in the fires of mount doom. Only there can it be unmade". Frodo and Chief were both staring hard at the ring, suddenly coming to the true realisation of its power and evil. "It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fires from whence it came. ONE OF YOU...must do this!"
Elrond had said it. It was the million dollar statement. Everyone was in shock, was this really what he was asking of them? Boromir was the most affected of them all.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor" He replied, aghast by the mere idea of this! "Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs...there is evil there, that does not sleep. The great eye, is ever watchful. Mordor is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash. The very air you breathe, is a poisonous fume..." He shook his head, knowing the futility of the quest Elrond was proposing, still hoping he could retrieve the ring for his father. "...not with ten thousand men could you do this, it, is, folly!"
Then the tension of the council began to detonate. "Have you learned nothing from lord Elrond?" Legolas cried out, with Boromir shooting him a dangerous look, daring the elf to keep going! "The ring must be destroyed!"
Gimli stood now, sickened and offended by the elf's insufferable pride. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Why did the elves think they were so magnificent?
"And if we fail, elf, what then?" Continued Boromir, pressing his advantage as the elf's concentration wavered. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
Gimli didn't care for anything the ignorant man had to say, but he was ready to settle a long held grudge and rivalry. "I will be DEAD before I see the ring, in the hands of an elf!" It was that point when the council exploded, every elf against every dwarf.
"Well, looks like Aragorn was right Chief. Old grudges die hard. Think it's time to go down there yet?" she asked him.
John analysed the situation carefully. "Not yet!" He answered, just as the cry of "NEVER TRUST AN ELF!" punched above the rest of the bickering lords and nobles. Aragorn, Gandalf and Elrond all had their head in their hands. How had it devolved into this?
As bad as it looked, Chief knew better, he knew that to jump in now would not stop them quarrelling, not permanently. They would start bickering again as soon as they'd gotten over the shock of his arrival. The council were at each other's throats, and had been overcome by their personal grudges. Even Gandalf had a score to settle! He advanced on Boromir, he would make him come to his senses. "You do not understand, do you!" He bellowed, "Sauron's power grows. None can escape it, you will all be destroyed!" He warned, referring to the people of Gondor. Boromir almost laughs, thinking while the raving wizard fizzed and spluttered, "Who is this moron?"
Chief and Frodo could feel and hear the power and whisperings of the ring building to a crescendo, feeding off of the hate and anger around it. "What was this pain?" the hobbit wondered, "this unceasing ache?" He looked at the ring. It whispered in a foul, evil tongue. Flames welled up inside the ring, and Frodo gazed in horror as he saw visions of the world. The world was burned to ashes, and all was lost and...and…He knew what he had to do. Had to!
Frodo stood up, and yelled at the top of his small lungs, "I WILL TAKE IT!"
The Chief's eyes snapped to the small voice as it repeated again. "I will take it!" No one heard, they were all to busy squabbling. John was astounded. Had the little hobbit really just volunteered for this suicide mission? THIS was the leverage he had been waiting for to bring order to the crowd!
He vaulted over the wooden railing at the third floor of the weather station. He heard the wind rushing by, amplified by his auto sensors, and sounded as if a hurricane tearing by. He landed hard, hard as he could. He landed with a crash, and could feel the tension and stress in his knees. Stone splintered and was crushed, a tile was turned to powder.
The noise of the half tonne armour and its occupant caused such a tremendous noise that every single member of Elrond's council stopped dead, jumped in fright and gawped at the figure in complete and utter shock. A few even drew swords and axes. Aragorn simply punched the air a little and smiled, as if thinking "Yes Chief! Perfect!" The Spartan couldn't have picked a more crucial moment to make his presence known.
Chief rose up from the clouds of dust and mortar expanding around him, drawing to his full height. The council looked on at the giant warrior in their midst with wide and fearful eyes. Some had seen or heard about the Spartan, the strange guest of Elrond, the one who had saved the helpless Ring Bearer from the nine. For those that hadn't were in a state of terror. His massive height and build, the strange armour, the massive crossbow on his back, too heavy for any normal man to ever use. Then, the helmet turned to gaze at Frodo, and the eyes of the council followed it.
Frodo himself was shocked, but then realised what Chief had just done for him. John nodded in approval, and Frodo repeated himself without hesitation or question. "I will take the ring to Mordor" The hobbit said in small voice.
For not the first time since the congregation of the council, there was silence. No muttered comments, no sly remarks or angry men and dwarfs to shout and bicker, there was only silence. "But..." Frodo continued, realising that he could never do this task. "I do not know the way". And he hung his head in shame.
Gandalf was the first to speak. He hadn't wanted this of Frodo, but, if this was the way of the world, Arda's willing...the old wizard smiled warmly at the hobbit he loved so dearly. ''Hobbits…Still astonishing me after all these years! I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bare".
Next was Aragorn. "By my life or death," He said, kneeling down on one knee before the Hobbit, "I can protect you, I swear. You have my sword Frodo!" The entire crowd was silent as they gazed at the giant with wide and fearful eyes, the faceless visor moving between them, cowing them into submission. They couldn't even tell if he was staring at them or not.
"And, you have my bow" An elf not frightened stiff by the Chief said, stepping forward, those who knew him realising it was Legolas.
Then Gimli spoke, almost growling, not wanting to be outdone. "And my axe!" He joined the others at Frodo's side, and glowered for a moment at the elf. Then Gimli looked the Spartan up and down. When he turned away, he gave a look as if thinking "Hell, I would not want to fight that monster!"
A silence fell as John stepped forward. He looked down at the Hobbit for a moment, and knelt. In that moment, John saw all of his fellow Spartan's, all of his fellow soldiers and human beings who had failed to protect. But this, this was a second chance. A chance to save another world, and a chance to do it right.
A small huff of amusement drifted from the helmet. To think, it was this hobbit that was the bravest of all these men and mythical beings! "So, you would brave hell and high water Frodo. Just to save all of, this?" He motioned at the crowd.
Frodo looked up at him and into his visor. The young hobbit's eyes flared with the light of the sun, betraying a thousand emotions all at once. Defiance in the face of Death. Fear in the promise of Danger. Courage in the face of Doom. "It is the Shire that I love Chief. I have carried this burden this far, a little more shouldn't hurt"
The Chief crossed his arms in response, "You'd be surprised" He replied, a casual warning, nothing more. Then, without a pause, the helmet turned to Elrond. "With your permission sir, I will go with him. Keep him safe" Again, whispers ran through the crowd. Some were exclamations of shock, while others were of cautious curiosity, not of fear. The warrior acted with such gentleness with the hobbit, not a monster at all. Gandalf winked at Elrond, the elf simply rolled his eyes in nuisance.
Elrond then addressed the Spartan. "You have already proven yourself a peerless warrior, and what's more, a good man Spartan. If the others will allow it, you may join Frodo" He looked to the other volunteers. No one was complaining! It would be a blessing to have such an ally at their side.
Boromir was the only one who did not trust him, or at least the only one brave (or stupid!) enough to voice it. Apparently, he had recovered enough from the shock of a green giant to form a coherent sentence. "Have you all gone MAD!?" He stepped forward, running a hand through his hair, his face going from the crowd to John and back. "This…behemoth, appears out of nowhere, with no former hint of where his allegiances lie, and we are to TRUST him?"
Chief understood his point of view. Why should he trust him? The loyal soldier of Gondor then motioned to Elrond. "For all we know, he has hoodwinked Elrond into trusting him! Is it not far-fetched to say that this…thing!" He raised an accusing finger at Chief, "could be an unflinching spy of the enemy!"
Aragorn replied in defence. "He fought the wraiths atop of Amon Súl. Never has he even touched the one ring. He is no servant of Sauron!"
But Boromir still wasn't convinced. The Spartan kept watching Boromir as he advanced on him, hand outstretched. "Show your face, demon! Or I shall reveal you myself!"
With one swift motion and a blur of metallic green, the man's arm was tight in John's grip. Elrond couldn't help but let a small grin escape from his calm demeanour. Boromir struggled, wincing a little at the power of the Spartan's hand. But the Chief wouldn't release him. His visor leaned down to face the man, who looked back into it with shocked eyes.
"Don't touch the helmet!" Chief barked threateningly. With another swift move, John released him, pushing his arm away. Boromir stared bashfully into the reflective, orange surface. "Like it or not, you need me here. If not, then the next time the Wraiths come, I'll leave them to you!"
The son of Gondor looked around sheepishly. "Very well" He said turning back to the group at large, "If this is the will of the council...then Gondor will see it done". Chief was not pleased at the idea of having this man by his side. A powerful warrior, a good soldier too perhaps? But most certainly a hindrance.
Yet, John was too single minded to voice his concerns without authority. Gondor was powerful, and he didn't want to alienate their ambassador. It was clear that Boromir wanted the ring, whether for himself or for his kingdom was not clear. Worst case scenario, Gondor would send men, warriors to take the ring by force should they not bring this Boromir along. Chief's duty was to follow orders, he didn't feel as if he had any power over this.
"HEY!" A shout came from behind a bush. There was a rustle, and a blur of jacket and corduroy trousers as Samwise Gamgee rushed forward to join the group. "Mr Frodo ain't going anywhere without me!" The young hobbit announced, folding his arms in an attempt to look authoritive.
The Chief looked down at the young gardener, in genuine amusement. "Eavesdropping?" He asked sardonically, causing the Hobbit to look away bashfully.
"OI! We're coming too!" Yet another shout came from the wall and two more hobbits scurried forwards, Merry and Pippin taking their place beside Frodo. Elrond immediately glares at the hobbits. This was most inadvisable!
"And you'll have to tie us up in a sack to stop us!" Pippin continued, "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...Quest...err, Thing!" The Chief shook his head as Merry murmured, "Well that rules you out Pip!"
"Son of a bitch! He beat me to it!" Cortana then piped up in surprise. Was she losing her touch after all this time?
"Ten Companions…" Elrond mused. Could it possibly be? The group looked up at Elrond, waiting for his response. A pleasant smile adorns the elf Lord's face. As he gazes at the ad-hoc, yet resourceful group before him. This might just be enough!
"So be it!" He finally states, with a tone finalization and, unless John was mistaken, pride. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring".
Merry and Pippin beamed at each other, knowing they were about to go on a great adventure! And that whatever happened, they would have Aragorn, Gandalf and the Master Chief to keep them safe!
"GREAT!" Pippin exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together. "Where are we going?"
"We're doomed!" Exclaimed Cortana, as soon as he'd said it.