Chapter Eleven

The Council Continues

Legolas was silent as the others spoke, debating details. He beckoned to the Dragonfly on the Hobbit's shoulder, and it flitted over to land on his forearm. He began to sing.

Today I saw the Dragonfly

Come from the wells where he did lie

An inner impulse rent the veil

Of his old husk, from head to tail

Came out clear plates of sapphire mail

He dried his wings, like gauze they grew

Through crofts and pastures wet with dew

A living flash of light he flew...

The Dragonfly's large wings buzzed with pleasure at the song, and Legolas admired the panes of color in them, taking care not to touch them.

The room had gone silent while he sung. He raised up his forearm a bit.

"Here is one of a race nearly decimated by Sauron, an old and magical race. A living symbol of why we must persevere." A profound sadness came over the Elf's face that their world was once again threatened, that all that had been healed and rebuilt could now soon fall once again to one who cared nothing for beauty or poetry or life, but only power for power's own sake. Legolas lowered his eyes, hiding the grief he felt, and the fear at who among this company would be lost along the way. Deagol still cowered, shrinking against a chair leg, but silent.

What of Emer, whom he had bitten? She was nowhere in the hall. He went out to look for her, finding her in a heap on the floor in a hallway, fevered and incoherent.

"Sister, can you hear me?" There was no answer from her. Legolas brought a cool cloth to bathe her forehead, and a draught of Elven mead. She took some, but still did not speak, her face colorless. Several other Elves gathered round.

"Ayala, will you fetch Edric to me?" Legolas asked.

Edric was already coming down the hall before they could summon him, for Edric was a healer, that was his craft, and he came swiftly when he knew someone was in need of his services. The others formed a tight circle around him as he knelt before the stricken Elf.

Laying his hand on her damp forehead, he began to chant. There was a deep music in his voice. He sent his own spirit out after Emer's which was lost and stumbling between the planes of life and darkness. The spirit-Emer turned to flee, seeing him following.

He stretched out his hand. "Now is not your time." Leading her back to the land of the living, Edric said the spell that would void the poison from the bite of Deagol.

When Emer's eyes opened weakly, he offered her again the drink Legolas had brought. She took it, closing her eyes again, her head lolling against the wall.

"She needs rest now," Edric said, and the Elves carried her away.

"She was touched by more than venom, the Dark Hand was laid upon her," said Edric to Legolas. "When her strength returns we will ask her what she saw."

Emer was taken to a dark, quiet room, and placed upon a soft bed. Beyond the window the tree limbs swayed in the gathering darkness. She must get up and tell them where she had seen Deagol before, and what she had heard. Sleep claimed her before she could think another thought.

~*~

Arwen smiled for the first time since arriving in Rivendell upon hearing the song of Legolas. When he left to tend to Emer, she put another question before the Council.

"Before we assume our individual quests, it must be decided where the stones will be taken and hidden, until they can be brought together again. Before we suggest such places, this foul creature must be taken where he cannot overhear." Arwen gestured to Deagol.

Lunea looked at the others and sighed.

"We are delaying here . . . but I guess there isn't much of a choice," she whispered. "How are you feeling, Vlad?" she asked outloud.

"Great."

"Don't be sarcastic. Honestly."

"My head doesn't pound like Dwarves are hammering on it...now it only feels like an Elf is hitting me . . . lightly."

"Oh, you are funny."

"I know, but I'm not laughing."

"It's going to get worse, I think, the closer you get to Mordor."

"I didn't think I'd get lucky. Oh, well."

"You're still going?"

"Yes. I'm not too happy being made a pawn."

"You may still be."

Vlad did not reply instantly to Lunea's last comment.

"What about you?" he finally asked. "Are you a pawn?"

"I may be. Everyone might be just pawns. I certainly don't think this last meeting with the Dark Lord will be a cakewalk for me."

"What happened before?"

"None of your business."

"Oh."

"Hey! Are we going to make some plans now or shall we rest?" called Lunea to Syntoc.

Syntoc turned to Lunea. "I think our group should make plans now, and head out tomorrow morning. We must make haste. The other groups should leave in three-day increments. What do you think?"

"It sounds like a plan . . . if we can get everyone to sit and listen for several seconds," said Lunea with a wry smile.

"I would like the honor of hiding the Arkenstone, and I think it should be taken to the far North, Since the Wanderer knows that country better than any other, we shall go with him. Larz, myself, and Faramir and the Lady Eowyn. I believe the Green Silmaril of Mirkwood is best left to Queen Arwen Evenstar to hide. For the taking of the White Gem of Galadriel, the Hobbit, Draco, and Syntoc. I would have Edric with us, this leaves Zindel the Red to accompany Arwen," Bain said.

"I concur. I know exactly where to take it. I will have Emer accompany me, and Zindel. Draco I would take but he seems loath to be parted from the Hobbit." Arwen smiled at the young Man's protectiveness of the Halfling.

"Bain, there has been much enmity between our peoples in the past. Let us end it this day. I name you Bain Elfriend, and give to you this as a token of a newly sealed friendship that should never have gone awry." She lifted a small charm on a chain from around her neck, an emblem of the White Tree in silver, and placed it in Bain's hand.

"And may you return safely to your kingdom under the Mountain when your errand is done."

Graybough and Fimbrethil took great delight in the woods of Rivendell, and the crystalline water full of nourishment. This was as fine a place as any Ent could dream of.

They stood together now side by side outside the great hall, listening to the council and talking to each other about the tidings with great hooming and homing.

Graybough poked his head into the highest window of the hall.

"We will accompany Lady Evenstar," he announced.

"Then we shall leave on the morrow. Let us rest. Tomorrow myself, Lunea, Draco, Marigold, and any others that wish to accompany us will head out." Syntoc turned to his party. "We have an important duty. Let us rest well tonight, for it is the best rest we will get for some time." Syntoc headed off towards his bedchamber for the night.

Arwen caught up to Syntoc before he reached his bedchamber.

"Wizard. I would make my peace with you, before we all depart on the morrow. I will not return living from this quest. I spoke to you in anger and bitterness, I fear this all I have left. I would have you remember me with fondness and not anger." She touched his brow.

"Remember Gondor in days of splendor, when all was well-ordered and Aragorn Elessar brought peace. Perhaps those days will come again. I am sorry you have seen me in so poor a light. I used to be filled with light, now I am a vessel of shadows, and memories. Forgive me."

She turned on her heel, and went to the room where Emer still slept. "Survive, young one," she whispered to the Elf whose face was like the newly risen moon in the darkness.

Arwen stole out of her father's house to the gardens, there to commune one last time with memories of brighter days when life seemed eternal and the night did not draw in upon her.