Chapter 15 - The Ring Goes South

HAPPY CHAPTER 15 GUYS!

This story has been going on for over three weeks now, and we're at nearly 50,000 words. Wow. Can't believe it!

I hope you're enjoying it so far; this chapter is more of an interlude, a fit-in piece that goes between Elanor's sojourn in Rivendell and... other things. It is short, but is the precursor to more wordy pieces.

Onward!

25th December 3018 (Third Age)

The frigid breeze clawed at Elanor's bones like a rabid animal. Drawing her thick mantle closer about her, she attempted to shake away the wisps of hair that whipped her cheeks.

Almost the entirety of Imladris had gathered outside the house, braving the arctic winter's day to observe the departure of the Fellowship of the Ring.

Lord Elrond stood at the front of the party, flanked by his sons and seneschal on his left, and his daughters—young and old—upon his right. Behind was a gathering of Elves and those, such as Bilbo, who remained behind.

Elanor's chest was an aching mass. Before them, the Fellowship was busy gathering their last-minute supplies. Samwise was affectionately stroking Bill the Pony on the muzzle, whilst the younger hobbits fussed with his saddlebags. Gimli stood beside Boromir, conversing in low gruff tones, whilst Gandalf and Aragorn waited in silence. Legolas and Glorfindel alone appeared at ease, lingering in easy companionship.

At length Elrond raised his voice over the soft murmuring. "This is my last word," he said solemnly. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy will it be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli.

"Maybe," said Elrond, "but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart," said Gimli.

"Or break it," came the Elf-lord's response, in his quiet way. "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

"Good . . . good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering with the cold. "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Sam my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

The Fellowship gathered together then, and Elrond stepped forward to farewell them each in turn. Erestor followed him, as did Elrond's three biological children. Elladan and Elrohir gripped the forearms of their friends, lingering especially with Aragorn and the two Elves. Arwen was as regal as ever, and Elanor felt her heart throb with empathy. She stood before Aragorn last, bestowing upon him a nod and but a handful of words. With that, she rejoined her family.

And then it was Elanor's turn.

"Farewell, Elrond's daughter," Gimli son of Glóin said somewhat gruffly, taking one of her hands between his own.

Elanor nodded dumbly, unable to speak. She had spent the least time with the Dwarf, and was inexplicably touched by his kindness.

Merry and Pippin were the most subdued she had ever seen them, and on impulse she drew them both into an embrace.

"Goodbye," she whispered into Pippin's shoulder.

"Farewell, Lady Elanor," Merry said. After Elanor released him, Pippin merely stood silent, unable to speak.

Aragorn towered over her, his dark hair falling over his face slightly.

"Fare the well, Lady Elanor," the tall Ranger said, taking her hands as Gimli had. "I regret that we had so little time together."

"I also," Elanor whispered, attempting to rein in her emotions and failing miserably.

Aragorn's eyes flicked to Arwen almost imperceptibly, but Elanor noted the deep emotion upon his face. She felt her own heart throb in response, thoughts straying to Tim. Aragorn's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I leave you in care of each other."

Oh wow, why does this have to be so hard...

Unable to stem the rush of tears, Elanor merely nodded and attempted to brush them away with one gloved hand.

Aragorn squeezed her fingers once more, before regaining his usual stern composure and moving aside.

Elanor looked up at Boromir through a veil of tears. She felt so overcome by the present moment that even the awkwardness of their relationship had ceased to matter to her.

Boromir placed one hand upon her shoulders and favoured her with a half-hearted smile, the first he had given her since that night in the corridor. Elanor's eyes fell to the pavement.

"I don't know how I shall manage without a distressed damsel to carry."

Almost disbelieving, Elanor's head snapped back up. Seeing the mixture of sadness and affection upon Boromir's face, she was swamped with regret that she had not made more effort to amend their relationship.

"Boromir—"

He held up one hand to silence her.

"Peditham hi sui vellen?" he asked, lapsing into the Sindarin which was custom amongst the nobles of Gondor.

Elanor could only nod.

"Na lû n'i a-goveninc, Elanor, mellon nin," said Legolas, his voice uncharacteristically raspy.

Elanor had long since abandoned her attempt to wrest her emotions into submission. She allowed her tears to fall freely as she stood before the Elf, seeing only the ends of his coffee-coloured hair.

Hiccuping, she determined that she would say all she intended this time.

"I'm going to miss our sparring together," Elanor mumbled, "and everything—I'm going to miss you. Take—take care of yourself, look after the hobbits, and—"

"Elanor—"

"No, let me first," she pleaded, giving him a watery smile, "or I'll never get this done. You have been there for me when I most needed it, Legolas—you—you… Thankyou. You are my hanar, my brother. I—I wish… please. Make sure you come back."

Braving a glance at Legolas' face, she saw that his blue eyes were also glistening. Wordlessly, he reached out and drew her into an embrace—a gesture reserved for close friends or kin amongst the Elves.

"I shall miss you too, brennil vuin."

"You are full of surprises, young Miss Elanor," chuckled Gandalf, resting upon his staff as he twinkled down at her. "You have quite surpassed every expectation I had of you; now, one of the Ladies of Imladris, acquainted with those members of the Line of Fingolfin. You dress as an Elf, speak your stilted Sindarin with more grace than most, and cavort with Lords and Princes." He paused, smiling still, and his voice dropped low. "Little did either of us imagine such an eventuality when I observed you wake those weeks ago."

Elanor breathed deep, attempting to impress upon herself the gravity of what she was about to say.

"Glorfindel, this is important," she began, willing her eyes to stop leaking tears down her cheeks. "I have spoken to you of some of these things already, but there are several other important points I have to make."

The Elf's face was grave, and he bid her to go on with a curt nod.

"I mentioned Gandalf and Khazad-dum before," Elanor whispered. "Don't forget that advice. It's more important than you realise. Please."

"As you wish, mellon."

Sighing, she steeled herself to continue: "Glorfindel, Boromir is going to die."

"What?" The Elf's face was aghast, pale skin turning ashen.

"Don't ask," she muttered, feeling disgusted by her own disclosure. "It's not for a while—after Lothlórien. But—keep an eye on him for me, won't you?"

Glorfindel's blue eyes bored into hers for a moment.

"Could I refuse aught that you ask?" he asked, finally.

Elanor choked, her body beginning to shake.

"Lady."

Her lip quivered.

The world swam.

Get it together, Elanor Ravenscroft.

Sighing, she dropped to her knees, bringing her gaze level with the hobbit before her.

"Samwise."

His brown eyes rested anywhere but her face, and he hung his head a little. Elanor took him gently by the shoulders.

"Samwise."

A flicker of acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, willing him to listen. "I'm sorry about Frodo."

His brow lifted for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. Please believe me, that it wasn't my fault, and that I would do anything to bring him back."

Because, even though it wasn't my fault that Frodo died, it is my fault that you're now the Ringbearer. It's my fault you're having to bear the responsibility on this quest, and that goodness knows what is going to happen to you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Readjusting her cloak, Elanor returned to her place amongst Elrond's household. Arwen glanced to her, and shifted slightly so that her arm brushed gently against Elanor's. Drawing her gaze, the Elf-woman sent her a look of such deep empathy that Elanor almost began weeping anew.

With last longing glances, the Fellowship turned their backs upon those waiting before Imladris. They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of Rivendell; and they came at length to the high moor where the wind hissed through the heather. Then with one glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below them they strode away far into the night.

TRANSLATIONS

Peditham hi sui vellen? - "May we speak as friends now?"

Na lû n'i a-goveninc - "Until we meet again."

Mellon nin - my friend

Brennil vuin - beloved lady

Hanar - brother

This is a far shorter chapter than the ones I have uploaded previously. Mostly because I felt somewhat wearied of the 5,000 word ones I have been composing and wanted to make this one chapter that focuses upon a single scene.

It's also basically a #feelsvent, so please bear with me. The next chapter will be more informative, and focus more on actual events and not just me crying because seriously, if the Fellowship were filled with my friends, I would be devastated to see them go. :(

Finwe