Chapter 18: Under Fading Lights

Their last night in Lothlórien, the elves threw a feast as a goodbye celebration.

It wasn't as tame as the events Quinn had seen in Rivendell, but it wasn't quite as rowdy as the Mirkwood feasts she'd been to. They sat in a grove of trees after a hearty meal (which Quinn skipped) and listened to music and poetry beneath glittering lanterns. The elves, who had all been somewhat standoffish in the forest, became more relaxed and cheerful after a few goblets of wine.

Quinn thought the feast was a nice gesture, and she was enjoying herself so far, but a part of her was itching to get back on the road. She didn't think she'd actually be able to rest until Sauron was defeated and Middle-earth was safe. And when that finally happened, she wasn't sure if she would be around to actually get some rest.

She shook herself from her thoughts and brought herself back to the present. Some of the elves had formed a small crowd at one end of the clearing and moved closer.

"I don't know any fancy songs, you see," Pippin was saying. "Just the sort you would sing in the tavern after a few pints."

"We would be honored to hear any song from your realm, Master Hobbit," one of the elves said. Five of them were gathered around Pippin, who was sitting on a stump, a goblet of wine cupped between both hands.

Pippin scratched the back of his neck. "I usually have a partner for these sort of things…"

Quinn looked over at Merry, but he was busy snacking on some tomatoes with Frodo and Sam. She knew better than to get between a hobbit and his food.

"I'll be your partner," she said, easing her way through the small crowd. "Which song are we doing?"

Pippin brightened. "Oh, how about the bottle song?"

"You got it." She sat down next to him, hoping she remembered the lyrics correctly. "Hey, ho, to the bottle I go…"

It was a silly drinking song that Merry and Pippin had taught her, and in a weird way it reminded her of the songs in her world. It seemed no matter where she went, there were always going to be songs about getting drunk.

"Better than rain or rippling brook—"

"Is a mug of beer inside this Took!" Pippin finished.

The elves clapped politely, and they stood up and bowed.

"I'll be here all night, folks," Quinn said.

As the elves began to disperse and Pippin made a beeline for the tomatoes his friends were sharing, Quinn felt a tap on her shoulder.

"I believe that's the first time I've heard you sing."

She turned around with a grin. "Tauriel. I didn't think you were coming."

"I was making some preparations for tomorrow. I'll be leaving at first light."

"Same time as us." Her smile wavered. "I guess we're saying goodbye, then."

"For now." Tauriel smiled slightly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Quinn hesitated. It was getting pretty tiring, having to decide when to tell the truth about her fate. "Well, we don't know what's going to happen."

"Have faith," Tauriel said, determination shining in her eyes. Quinn couldn't help but think that she and Kíli were a good match for each other. "I don't think this will be the end for either of us."

She nodded and forced a smile. She couldn't bring herself to put out that light, not if she didn't have to. "Well, say hi to Kíli and the others for me when you see then again."

"I will." Tauriel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn. "Na lû e-govaned vîn."

"Galu," Quinn replied as she returned the embrace. She held on tightly, trying hard to keep her composure.

"I must say my goodbyes to Legolas." Tauriel pulled back. "I wish you a safe journey."

"You too." Quinn watched her cross the clearing to where Legolas was talking to a few elves.

The jovial atmosphere suddenly seemed distant and out of place. She couldn't drink, and she didn't really want to talk to anyone at the moment, so she wandered out of the grove and into the shadows beyond the lanterns.

She hadn't gotten far before she noticed someone else standing in the dark, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. There was enough light for her to make out Boromir's figure, and curiosity won over her desire to be alone.

"Hey," she said as she walked closer. "Everything okay?"

Boromir glanced at her. He'd been withdrawn during their stay in Lothlórien, and there was a furrow in his brow more often than not, but Quinn had just chalked it up to the events in Moria and the anticipation of what they would face once they left the forest.

"Where do you hail from?" he asked.

Quinn blinked. "Uh…what?"

"You wear armor I've never seen before, and your manner of speech is unlike anything I've heard." Boromir turned to face her and looked her over. "Who are your people?"

"I'm from somewhere really far away. A different world, actually." She leaned back against the tree across from his and crossed her arms. "You can believe me or not, I don't really care. But I've been here long enough that Middle-earth feels like home, now. I guess anyone who isn't an orc is my people."

Boromir lowered his chin, like he was considering her answer. "You have been to Gondor before?"

"A few times. The last time was more than thirty years ago, though." She tapped her fingers against her bicep, wondering where he was going with this. "Nice place. Lots of orcs on the border, but I guess that…can't be helped."

Boromir said nothing, still staring at the forest floor.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" Quinn asked. "I get that we're all stressed, but you could at least get drunk or something. Don't just stand here in the dark like some edgelord."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her comment, then straightened. "Time is wasting. Every moment we spend idling beneath these trees, the Enemy grows stronger. And it is Gondor who has spent its strength holding them at bay."

"Well, we're leaving tomorrow," Quinn said, wondering why he hadn't brought this up earlier. But at the same time, she was glad she wasn't the only one getting anxious. "I-I get what you're feeling. Every day we're out here, more people are dying. All we can do is get this stupid Ring melted down as soon as possible."

"And if that is not enough?" Boromir leaned back, a shadow passing over his face.

"You mean if we destroy the Ring and the orcs keep coming? Or Saruman finishes what they started?" She chewed on the inside of her lip. She hadn't thought about it like that before, that this wouldn't end even after they had risked everything. "Well, that would suck major balls. But we can't do anything about it right now." She moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "Getting worked up over it isn't going to help anyone. My advice? Go get drunk. That elvish wine is some magic stuff—you won't get hungover. Go sing songs with Merry and Pippin. Don't deal with your shit until you can actually deal with it. Yeah?"

Boromir didn't meet her eyes. "I will take my leave. We will all need rest before tomorrow."

"That works too." She let her hand slide off his shoulder as he turned and walked away. "Have a good night, I guess."

Quinn crossed her arms as she was left alone in the dark. It seemed she wasn't the only one unable to leave her thoughts behind tonight.

The next morning, the elves led them to the southeast border of the forest, where four boats were waiting for them on the bank of the river. They were each given a gray cloak fastened with a leaf-shaped clasp. Toven took a moment to admire the material—it was both sturdy and lightweight, and seemed to almost shimmer with the changing colors of the forest floor.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Celeborn said. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Toven wondered if the cloaks did have some sort of concealment magic in them. That would certainly be useful once they drew closer to Mordor.

Galadriel stepped forward, her golden hair glinting in the early morning light. "Your path lies before you, and the shadows fall between us. But before you go, I have brought gifts which the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim now offer you in memory of Lothlórien." She turned to Legolas. "My gift for you is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin."

One of the elves standing off to the side stepped forward and presented a longbow with silver engravings and a quiver of arrows. Legolas ran a hand along the bow, then drew back the string, seeming impressed by its quality. Next, Boromir received a long hunting knife, sheathed in sturdy leather.

"Hold to your purpose, son of Gondor," Galadriel said softly. "There is hope yet for your people."

Boromir nodded, his hair resting limply across his brow. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all the previous night, and it seemed to Toven that he would be the only one leaving Lothlórien without being fully rested.

Merry and Pippin also each received a knife, though the blades were smaller and curved.

"These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war."

Merry unsheathed his and inspected the blade with a small smile. Pippin looked up when Galadriel mentioned war, uncertainty written across his face.

"Do not fear, young Peregrin Took." Galadriel briefly rested a hand on his shoulder. "You will find your courage." She turned to Sam. "For you, I have only a small gift."

One of the elves came forward, and Galadriel placed a small gray wooden box in his hand.

"In this box is earth from my orchard. It will not keep you on your road, nor defend you against any peril. But if you keep it and see your home again at last, then perhaps it may reward you. There will be few gardens in Middle-earth that will bloom like yours, if you sprinkle this earth there. Then you may remember our fair wood."

Sam mumbled a thanks, turning red to the tips of his ears. He ran a thumb over the lid of the box, then stowed it away in his pocket.

Galadriel moved next to Gimli, who removed his helmet. "And what gift would a dwarf ask of the elves?"

"Nothing," Gimli said lowly, shifting his weight for a moment before lifting his gaze. "Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

Toven raised an eyebrow. Lothlórien had given them time to heal, but it seemed to have changed Gimli entirely. He'd stopped grumbling about trees and vegetables after the first day, and had begun wandering the woods with Legolas, though no one knew what they got up to on their excursions. Toven was sure if Glóin could see his son now, he'd never hear the end of it.

Galadriel let out a small, musical laugh. "Let none say again that dwarves are grasping and ungracious. Yet surely there must be something I could give you."

"Actually, there was one thing." Gimli stammered for a moment. "That is, all that I could possibly desire would be a single strand of your hair."

A few of the elves murmured, and Celeborn's eyes widened. But Galadriel only smiled. "And what would you do with such a gift?"

Gimli tucked his thumbs into his belt, seeming to gain some confidence. "I would treasure it, my lady. And if I ever return to the smithies of my home, it shall be set in imperishable crystal to be an heirloom of my house, and a pledge of goodwill between the Mountain and the Wood until the end of days."

Galadriel reached up and plucked three strands of hair from her head, then folded them in a small white cloth and handed it to Gimli. He turned almost as red as his beard and tucked the gift away in his coat pocket.

"Bro," Quinn whispered, leaning towards Gimli. "I think you just solved racism."

Galadriel then gave Aragorn a curved knife in a sheath engraved with leaves and flowers. She said nothing to him, only giving him a meaningful look. Aragorn gave no indication as to whether she'd spoken to him inside his mind, only bowing his head slightly.

Galadriel moved to Frodo next. "Farewell, Frodo Baggins." She withdrew a crystal vial full of clear liquid from her robes and handed it to him. "I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star." The liquid sparkled in the sunlight as Frodo pocketed the vial. "May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out."

When Quinn realized Galadriel was coming to her next, she straightened, her lips twitching nervously.

"You have traveled far to reach our lands, Quinn Fleming. And you have further still to go." Galadriel withdrew a smooth, perfectly round stone with tiny runes along the edges and placed it in Quinn's hand. "May this guide you home in your hour of need."

"Cool." Quinn brought the stone up to the light, inspecting the runes, then lowered it. "I-I mean, thanks. Really looking forward to…trying this thing out."

Finally, Galadriel approached Toven, and he wasn't terribly surprised when one of the elves came forth and handed him a dagger. It was curved in typical elvish fashion, and the hilt was wrapped in sturdy black leather. He unsheathed it and tested the edge on his thumb. The blade was polished and smooth, enough that he could clearly see his own reflection.

"May it serve you well," Galadriel said.

Toven looked up, intending to thank her, but the words froze on his tongue as her voice sounded within his head.

You must trust your judgement and keep your senses sharp. You may have to draw your blade against one you once considered an ally.

Eyes wide, Toven nodded. Galadriel held his gaze for a moment longer before giving him a soft, encouraging smile and walking away.

As the elves bid them farewell and escorted them towards the boats, Toven tightened his grip on the dagger. He didn't dare look at the others and let mistrust cloud his gaze. He didn't know why Galadriel would tell him something like that when Moria had already left them fractured.

But whatever this threat was that she had mentioned, he couldn't let it destroy them.

Quinn decided that boats were her new favorite method of travel.

She'd been on ships before, down on the southern half of the coast, but those tended to smell and there had been a lot more cursing and fighting than she'd been comfortable with on a day to day basis. But the small boats the elves had given them cut cleanly through the water, carrying them a distance that would have taken twice as long on foot. A cool breeze brushed against her face, and she found time to talk with the others when normally they would have been trudging in silence.

The sun was setting by the time they found a place to stop for the night. Aragorn pointed out an open stretch of sand along the bank and called for them to steer the boats there.

Once they were close enough, Quinn jumped out, the cold water swirling around her legs, and began pulling the boat onto the bank. She glanced at Toven, who was still sitting at the back. "Mind helping me with this?"

"Right." He laid his oar down at the bottom of the boat and climbed out to help her.

"You okay?" she asked as they dragged the boat onto the sand. "You've been a little quiet today."

Toven nodded. "I'm all right. I'll tell you about it later."

Boromir pulled his boat next to theirs and began helping Merry and Pippin onto the bank. Aragorn was striding towards the trees that loomed over them as Frodo and Sam began taking out their supplies.

"Legolas," Aragorn said. "Help me scout the woods."

"Coming." Legolas finished helping Gimli out of their shared boat, then crossed the bank with long strides.

"I don't get it." Quinn crossed her arms and watched Gimli drag the boat onto the sand. "One minute they hate each other, and then after a few weeks in the forest, they're suddenly best friends."

"I guess Gimli had a change of heart." Toven moved to stand next to her.

"Do you think the elves brainwashed him or something?" She scrunched her mouth to the side. "I can't really see Galadriel doing that, but…"

"Do you think he and Legolas are…?"

Quinn turned to him. He raised an eyebrow, and her mouth fell open. "No way." She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Did you see something?"

"No. And if Gimli asks, you didn't get the idea from me."

"Oh my god. If they actually took my hate sex suggestion…"

"Now I'm wondering which one of them would kill you first if you brought it up."

"Don't worry." Quinn drummed her fingers together. "I'm not letting this get out until I have hard proof. This investigation has now become my top priority."

"Well, that's good news for Middle-earth." Toven elbowed her lightly. "Come on. Let's help the others set up camp."

They grabbed their own bags of supplies and walked over to where Sam was dividing up the rations for dinner. The elves had given them several packages made of what looked like leaves. Gimli unwrapped one of them, revealing a square travel biscuit.

"Cram," he grumbled. "I should have known."

"It is lembas," Legolas said, returning from the woods with Aragorn. "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

Gimli took an experimental bite, then let out an appreciative hum. "This isn't bad at all."

"Did he say one small bite?" Pippin asked as he and Merry joined them.

"How many did you eat?" Merry asked.

"Four."

Quinn and Toven sat across from the two hobbits as they settled down. Toven took a bite from his own square of lembas.

"How is it?" Quinn asked.

"Good," he said. "It's…sweet. Miles better than cram."

She snorted a laugh and turned to Merry and Pippin. "The first time we went traveling together, I had to bribe him with honey to get him to eat his cram."

"Well, it was hard as a rock and just as tasteless."

Pippin put a hand over his stomach. "I miss real food already. I'd give anything for some sausage and tomatoes and a nice ale to go with it…"

Merry groaned. "Stop it, Pip. I can feel my stomach rumbling now."

Toven raised an eyebrow. "You've eaten a week's worth of meals between you and you're already hungry again?"

"I've been traveling hungry for more than a week," Merry said. "I've still got quite a bit of catching up to do."

"Maybe we can try fishing tomorrow," Quinn said.

"Aye, I could go for some fish." With a sigh, Pippin flopped onto his back. "With some lemon and chips and mushrooms…"

"Pippin!"

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, they settled down for the night. They didn't light a fire, but the cloaks seemed to keep everyone warm. Quinn did her usual rounds around their campsite, but she found nothing of interest.

When she returned to the river, she found Toven perched on a rock by the water, staring out at the darkened current.

She moved to stand next to him. "What's on your mind?"

Toven glanced behind them, as if to make sure no one was listening. The others were getting ready to sleep, and Boromir was keeping watch.

"Galadriel gave me a warning just before we left," he said lowly. "She said I might have to draw my blade against someone I once considered an ally."

"Oh." Quinn crossed her arms and glanced back at the others again. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, an edge of frustration in his voice. "And I don't want to let suspicion cloud my judgement. The last thing we need is to lose trust in each other."

"Well, maybe it's not one of the Fellowship. It could be someone you haven't met yet."

"And what are the odds we're going to run into someone else before we reach Mordor?"

Quinn shrugged. "I'm just trying to think outside the box, here." She stared at the river, running through a list of allies, present and absent. "Maybe it's Belekur."

Toven's brows pinched together. "You think you'll end up switching places?"

"It's a possibility. If it comes down to it, though, I would honestly run in the other direction."

He said nothing, his gaze falling back to the river.

"Do you…have any guesses?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I can't stop thinking about that incident on the mountain. When Frodo lost the Ring."

Quinn frowned and glanced at Boromir, who seemed preoccupied with the trees. The incident had been strange and unsettling at the time, but she'd forgotten about it in the ensuing chaos. He'd been stressed out right before leaving Lothlórien, but that wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. "He hasn't done anything since then."

"I know." He shook himself. "You're right."

"Hey. Whatever happens, you're not going to have to make any decisions by yourself." She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "Go get some rest."

"All right." Toven stood and made his way towards where the others were sleeping.

Quinn turned her gaze back to the river. The last thing they needed was to be worrying about a traitor or something in their midst. She really hoped Galadriel's predictions were the kind that weren't set in stone. She was still haunted by the image of Toven lying impaled in the middle of a pack of orcs.

She closed her eyes. That's not going to happen. I won't let that happen.

There had to be a way she could protect them.

As she looked out over the river, she thought she caught two glinting shapes, like eyes, floating in the water. She stared at the spot for a long moment, but when she blinked, they were gone.

Feeling as though something was watching her, Quinn turned and headed back to camp.

I wanted to have one more chapter of more relaxed/fluffy stuff since there's a couple big turning points coming up. I'm really excited about that but I don't want to talk too much about it until we get closer.

The Sindarin phrase Tauriel says to Quinn basically means "Until we meet again." And Quinn is just saying bye in Sindarin.

Didn't realize until now that Boromir gets straight up skipped in the movies when Galadriel gives out the gifts. In the book he gets a gold belt which ? I guess is useful? Poor guy lol. I also changed Sam's gift from the rope to the box of earth because I honestly just like that better. And I added some more dialogue from the book for Gimli which I like a lot better than what they show in the movie.