Far from Lothlorien, and eighteen days after Lorelle had rode out, the Council ofElrond was meeting in Rivendell.  Frodo Baggins sat to the right of Elrond, and looked at the others seated in the circle.  It still boggled his mind that there he sat amoung elves, dwarves and men, having just barely survived death from a ringwrath's blade.  Indeed, the wound still ached, but he felt otherwise strong and ready for the meeting.

            Gandalf sat to his right, and Strider sat across from him—but other than Gloin, he recognized no one else.

            For long they spoke—spoke of the Dwarves troubles, of the Battle of Dagorlad of long ago, and of the darkness that now threatened the South.

            Eventually, Frodo was called forth to reveal the Ring—all eyes watched as he walked forward to the center, and placed the Ring down of the stone table with a trembling hand.  The sight of Isildur's Bane cast the group into thoughtful and deep silence.

Such relief flooded Frodo as he walked back to his seat.  He had carried the Ring this far—nothing more could possibly be asked of him, could possibly happen to him.

"Indeed," Boromir finally said, breaking the silence.  "It is amazing how the fate of all we hold dear depends on that band of gold."

"It is hardly a mere band of gold," Elrond said as he looked at the Ring.  "Into it Sauron poured all of his evil, all of his will, all of his power."

"But it is truly the One Ring?" Boromir asked, never taking his eyes off of it.

"It is—that shall be," but Elrond was interrupted.

An elf, eyes wide with some indiscernible emotion had run to the porch were they were seated, and bowed to Elrond.  "My lord," he started.

"Why have you interrupted us?" Elornd asked as he looked down at the elf with a critical eye.

"I fear this news is of great urgency," said the elf.  "And yet, I hardly now what to make of it myself.

"There is a halfling demanding audience with you, claiming to seek out the one who bears Isildur's Bane."

A murmur rose among those seated at the Council, and Frodo shrunk in his seat as all eyes once again turned towards him.  'What NOW has followed me?' he thought, dread filling his heart.

Elrond had risen in alarm.  "Who is this who seeks out the ringbearer?  What is his name, and from where has he come?"

"She claims to have traveled from Lothlorien with the Lady's blessing," said the messenger.  "She says she is called Lorelle Serilda, and claims that it would be folly to deny her audience."

"Bring her here." Elrond told the messenger.  But turning towards the Council, he order, "No one is to give allusion of who has borne the Ring—this new development bodes ill for me."

"And yet," Gandalf said suddenly, "I feel it in my heart the nagging memory that we have naught to fear."

"Yet no cautious measure can be too great," was Elrond's reply.  Turning back towards the messenger, he started to motion for him to leave.

But he was interrupted once again by the cries of two frantic hobbits.  Merry and Pippin came running to the porch, waving their arms in distress.

"Lord Elrond!" Merry cried as he ran to the Elf's seat.  "I'm afraid some unwelcome company is coming this way!"

"And she's already taken down two elves that tried to stop her—knocked them out cold!" Pippin cried.  "And not only that, but she's coming after YOU Frodo!" he continued, turning towards Frodo.  "You've got to go hide somewhere—she looks cross as two sticks,"

It was then that Merry turned pale, and started to nudge Pippin.

"I'm telling you Frodo, she looks like she out for blood!  I caught a glimpse of her—scary as anything…why…"  But Pippin's tongue fell silent as he realized that the halfling he spoke of was standing right behind him—exactly what Merry had been trying to warn him about.

"You would look like you were out for blood as well if you had been traveling for eighteen days straight only to be denied entrance to what you where looking for," she said, her eyes glittering, her face solemn.

Pippin made a sort of noise at the back of his throat as he stumbled to hide behind Merry, who only tried to hide behind Pippin.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elrond demanded as he towered over the hobbit-maiden.

She was of average hobbit height, with a build that seems thin and tough from a harsh life.  She had large blue eyes in her oval face, and short brown hair that fell past her ears in small clumps.  She appeared travelworn and weary, yet her eyes were bright and alert to all.  She was dressed in plain elven clothing, and the sword and sheath were of elven design.  She didn't wear elven slippers, but she did were leggings, which made her look all the more queer—this hobbit girl that seemed a mix of two worlds.

She looked into the face of Elrond, and undid her sword belt.  She placed the sheathed sword onto to the ground, at Elrond's feet.

"I come in peace," she calmly said as she straightened back up.  "I came  in peace, before I was so grievously treated by those standing guard of Rivendell.  I have traveled long and hard from Lothlorien.  Eighteen days have I traveled total—two long days and two sleepless nights where spent trying to pass through Dimrill Dale.  The rest I have spent riding hard.  My horse and I are weary—but I have traveled thus for the ringbearer, and to turn me away now would be a foolish mistake.  Now—where is he who bears the Ring of Power?"

"What authority gives you the right to demand such things?" asked Strider, his eyes wary of the hobbit.

"A prophecy of old," was her quick reply.

"And what prophecy is that?" was his reply.

The hobbit stood before the Council, her stance strong and proud.  She then began to recite in elvish,

A small one shall bear up the Burdened one,

When that burden proves too great.

            Gandalf's face lit with sudden recognition, and his voice joined hers to finish the prophecy.

She will lead him into the Dark Land,

Right passed its very gate.

            "Yes—yes," Gandalf said softly, "Now I remember—it is a simple short prophecy, yet it is as important as anything else in deciding the fate of the Ring."  He looked at the hobbit-maiden, respect in his eyes.  "They say that the Fates would chose the one that this prophecy spoke of."

            "They spoke truthfully."

            Gandalf nodded as he rose from his seat.  "Such are this days, when things long forgotten come into light."  He walked over to the hobbit-maiden, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.  "Elrond," he began, "I believe it would be best to halt the Council until this newcomer has rested and can attend."  Looking back down at the hobbit-maiden, he continued.  "For she, indeed, will play just as large a role as anyone else, if not greater."

            Elrond nodded his consent, and motioned for the Council to break for the day.  The hobbit nodded her thanks to the elf lord, and allowed Gandalf to gently steer her away from the porch.

            "Such days are these," Bilbo said as he leaned towards Frodo.  "I fear no book could be big enough to hold the tale."

            Frodo just stared at the receding forms of the wizard and the hobbit, until they turned a corner, and could no longer be seen.

Yea, I know I'm kinda merging book and movie—bite me.

~*IMP*~