AN: Guess who's lucky enough to get a second chapter in as many days? You guys! Thank you for the reviews, I love reading them! Up to and including simple screams of delight.
Chapter 29: Testosterone Poisoning
"Each race is bound to this fate- this one doom," Lord Elrond continued. He then looked specifically across the courtyard at the hobbits and gestured to the pedestal. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," he instructed.
For a split second I wondered how long he'd practiced that speech. There was no way he had ad libbed something like that. Then my attention was drawn by Frodo wiggling to the edge of his chair and dropping down.
Slowly, totally unsure about this, Frodo stepped forward and set the ring on the pedestal. The look on his face was one of mixed relief and concern, his shoulders lighter as he returned to his seat.
"So it's true," Boromir whispered, attention riveted to the pedestal. I didn't like the look that entered his eyes, entranced and heated.
Reluctantly I turned my own eyes on the ring. It didn't look like much, just a wedding band that someone had lost. Only the malicious whispers in the back of my mind differed it, murmuring in a language I didn't know.
I was jolted from my thoughts when Boromir abruptly stood. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying," he then recited the riddle we had heard, steps wandering ever closer to the pedestal.
Nervously I looked at Lord Elrond, wondering if he would step in. But he was busy exchanging a slightly alarmed look with Gandalf, which only made me more nervous.
Stupidly, entranced, Boromir lifted a hand in the direction of the ring.
Heart pounding in my chest, I barked out, "Boromir!"
At nearly the same time, Lord Elrond also urgently called his name, jumping up.
"Ash nazg durbatuluk!" Gandalf bellowed, standing, "Ash nazg gimbatul!" As he spoke the very sky darkened and I was sure the ground had begun to shake.
The elves looked as if they were in pain from the mere words, the dwarves fearful. Boromir even stumbled back to his chair.
Was that a spell? I thought, bewildered, what the hell was he saying?
And then suddenly I could understand, Gandalf's normal voice overlaid on top of the awful words that currently poured from his mouth: "One ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them!"
Finally he finished, and Lord Elrond pulled his head out of his hands. "Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," he rebuked.
"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west!" the old wizard replied gruffly, "The Ring is altogether evil!"
That a very language could be evil was a shock, but even worse was that I somehow understood it. Was it because I killed that ringwraith?
Even worse, Boromir stood up again and began to argue that it was a gift. Had our experience at Weathertop not convinced him that the ring was a bad thing? What happened to our plan to destroy it, to help Gondor? Not quite believing my ears, I watched him make his (dead on arrival) case.
"You cannot wield it, none of us can!" Strider argued, taking to his feet, "It answers to Sauron alone, it has no other master!"
The look Boromir gave him was one I had never seen on his face before, arrogant and haughty. "And what would a ranger know of such matters?" he questioned hypocritically.
Angrily, one of the blonde elves leaped up. "This is no mere ranger!" he argued, "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
Sheer disbelief seemed to cut into whatever had clouded Boromir's mind. "This… is Isildur's heir?" he asked, eyes raking over our friend. Or at least I thought they had become friends.
Strider, or Aragorn, I suppose, said nothing.
It was the elf who added, "And heir to the throne of Gondor."
Holy hell. I thought it was cool that I was related to Rohirrim royalty, but that felt almost normal by comparison. Impressed, I watched Strider murmur a few words to his elvish defender with palpable embarrassment.
"Gondor has no king," Boromir said, in direct contrast to what he had told me in Bree, "Gondor needs no king." Troubled, though trying hard to hide it, he returned to his seat.
I couldn't help giving him a look of expectant disbelief. Why the hell had he said that? Any of that?
"Aragorn is right, we cannot use it," Gandalf concluded.
"You have only one choice: the Ring must be destroyed," Lord Elrond announced.
The dwarf with the bright red hair got to his feet, axe in hands. My first wild thought was that he was going to attack our host. Instead he did something possibly even more stupid: he tried splitting the ring apart with that big old axe, only for the axe to break into tiny, flying pieces.
One cut into my cheek on the way past my head and I hissed at the bite of pain, but didn't bother saying anything. Lord Elrond was already rebuking Gimli son of Gloin, and pointing out that the ring can only be destroyed by tossing it in a volcano.
Again, I was reminded of horcruxes in Harry Potter: this thing needed to be destroyed in a way that it would be impossible to repair. Why hadn't Hermione thought of a volcano?
When Boromir spoke up about how impossible that was, I was getting a little annoyed. What happened to our previous cautious optimism? "The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume," he continued darkly, "Not with ten thousand men could you do this! It is folly!"
But my mind was going at lightning speed, millennia old skeletons coming to mind. "We don't need ten thousand men," I blurted out.
All attention went to me and for a moment I wished I had kept my thoughts to myself. At my direct opposition, Boromir looked as annoyed as I felt. "What would you suggest, then?" he snapped.
I frowned at him, but for the first time I stood to speak. "I don't mean to put anyone on the spot when I say this," I told the gathered group, but glanced at Frodo when I said that, "But if Mordor is so heavily guarded, force would have a snowball's chance in hell. We're going to need to sneak in.
"As far as Mordor being poisonous," I said with a pointed look at Boromir, "I think that's easier than anyone would expect. Out of all the species represented here, which of us routinely eats death cap mushrooms and yew berries? Think." With another glance at Frodo, I sat down, my part said.
The hobbit smiled grimly at me.
"We?" repeated the same elf who had defended Strider.
I shrugged. "Whoever is going on the very long, arduous, and extremely dangerous quest to save the world. Unless I'm invited, I'll probably just wish them luck and go home," I chuckled.
"One of you must take this task," Lord Elrond reiterated, eyes roving the assembly but landing several times on the hobbits.
Old Bilbo stood up. "Don't think I didn't catch what you meant," he told me with a playfully waggled finger, "A hobbit is needed. I started this mess, so I suppose it's my job to finish it."
I doubted he'd even make it to Bree, at his age.
"Your part is done," Lord Elrond told him kindly, "You have passed this thing onward and it would do you no good to repossess it."
"A hobbit," Boromir repeated with a disbelieving little laugh, "would not make it a week by himself with the Ring."
Little Bilbo answered fiercely, "I did!" from where he had just regained his seat.
"Who said he'd go alone?" I asked rhetorically.
"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir demanded, half of me and half of the council, "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
And then everybody lost their fucking minds. Boromir argued with Gandalf, the dwarves with the elves, over what to do now. The hobbits looked horribly awkward and of the others, only a particularly feminine looking male elf kept his seat. Even Lord Elrond got absorbed despite his peacekeeping attempt.
I heard my name a few times but only put up my hands in a signal to keep me out of that sausage party. In the back of my head the little voice sighed delightedly; the ring was enjoying this way too much.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frodo tense up. He murmured something I couldn't hear over the shouting, but then raised his voice. "I will take it!" he called as he wriggled from his seat.
The arguing continued like he hadn't said anything.
I was never good at whistling loudly, so instead I stood up on my chair and started bellowing out the lyrics to Bubblegum Bitch, hoping that at least the profanity would catch their attention. I managed to get to the chorus and even start dancing a little.
Slowly the arguing cut off and everyone stared at me like I'd lost my head.
I made a sweeping gesture in Frodo's direction and climbed down from my chair.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo said, determined, before he hesitantly added, "Though I do not know the way."
There was something pained in Gandalf's face, but he still smiled at his young friend. All bad feelings apparently forgotten, he shuffled forward to put a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," he promised.
Immediately the hobbit looked a bit more hopeful.
Strider then knelt before him and promised his sword. The elf and then the dwarf stepped forward, each disgusted with the other's presence. Good start to a team.
"You carry the fates of us all, little one," Boromir stated, walking slowly over to the assembled group, "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." He gave Strider another hard look as he joined the group.
"Hey!" When Sam burst out of the shrubbery, it was the best thing I could imagine. "Mr Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!" he announced.
For the first time, Lord Elrond looked amused. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," he told the hobbit pointedly.
Sam pinked but lifted his chin defiantly.
"Wait! We're coming too!"
Suddenly all amusement disappeared from Lord Elrond's face as he watched two more hobbits run down to join the party. I barely held in a laugh.
"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry exclaimed, skidding to a stop beside Frodo.
"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this mission. Quest. Thing," Pippin announced, to Gandalf's visible exasperation.
The group looked pretty complete to me, but I couldn't ignore the feeling that I was needed. If my part was done, then why had my dream-message specified that I needed to be at this council? Before Lord Elrond's inspired expression could produce words, I took my own feet.
More nervous than ever, I walked over to Frodo. "If you want me to continue with you, I will," I promised, "And if you don't, that's okay too. I'll do whatever I can to help you succeed."
Again, the hope that blazed in his pretty blue eyes increased. "Would you come?" he requested.
"Since you want me there, absolutely," I agreed, unable to help smiling.
Boromir cleared his throat, but was interrupted by Lord Elrond. "Ten companions… You have made your choices. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" he announced.
"Great!" Pippin said enthusiastically, "Where are we going?"
This time I couldn't help myself, I nearly fell over laughing. Hobbits, man.
The moment the council was deemed to be over, Boromir took my arm. "We need to speak," he said gruffly and began walking me away from the rest of the newly instated Fellowship.
His grip was tight on the sensitive inside of my arm and I hissed, wiggling. He adjusted his grip but made no move to release me as he pulled me down the corridor with long strides that made me jog.
"What the hell, Boromir!" I hissed at him.
He didn't answer me until we entered some empty chamber filled with paintings and a statue holding a tray. "What are you thinking? You nearly died just days ago!" he demanded.
Finally he let me throw his grip off. "What? Like that's new?" I answered on a laugh I really didn't feel, "I can take care of myself, thanks."
"Weathertop says otherwise," he pointed out ruthlessly.
"We'll have an entire team helping. I won't have to face those things alone," I answered, then just had to add, "Again!" because he was being a jerk and it's not like he'd done perfectly either.
"You don't know that!" Boromir ground out, "We're going to Mordor where anything can happen!"
"What about you? You could die, or worse, too!" I returned, suppressing a shiver at all the terrible scenarios that could take him away from me.
"That's my duty as a man," he tried explaining.
Oh, now he plays the sexism card! "When we were in Edoras, I promised that if you needed me to fight beside you, I would," I reminded him, voice tight, "This is me doing that. And if you don't like it, then you'll have to divorce me or kill me."
His expression was like I slapped him.
More than done with this conversation, I spun on my heel and marched to the door. There I paused just long enough to tell him, "If you man-handle me like that again, you're sleeping alone for a month." Before he could offer some kind of retort to really set me off, I left.
Storming down the corridor, I was pissed. How dare he! Logically I knew that he was concerned, maybe even afraid for my safety, but he was being an asshole about it.
The first place he'd look for me was in our room, so instead I headed for the stables. If I wasn't healing, I would've gone for a shovel and started cleaning; as it was, I was nearly knocked over by 160 pounds of dog within seconds of entering. Gander slobbered all over me, licking my face and neck like it had been weeks instead of days.
The tension bled out of my shoulders and I laughed, turning my head so that he didn't lick me on the mouth or eyes. "Down, Gander! Down, boy!" I instructed through my giggles.
Reluctantly he sat down at my feet. Still with that doggy grin, he watched me expectantly.
I scratched behind his ears quickly but turned my attention to the stalls. Most of the horses were grand beasts that the elves rode, proud and watchful as I passed them by. Instead I stopped at Bill's stall and gave him a good rub on the nose, then neck. "You're such a good pony, Bill," I told him, "Thanks for getting us the whole way here."
Softly he nickered and nudged the side of my face with his muzzle.
A louder noise from the stall beside him drew my attention but I gave Bill another good rub before I approached Damascus. "You're really something, aren't you?" I told my horse, "Keeping up with an elf horse, with your short little legs?" I smiled and couldn't help hugging her around the neck.
"Is she yours?" asked a voice I had just learned that day. It was the blonde elf, Strider's friend, attending a white horse a few stalls away. He stroked his own horse but his eyes were on me.
"Mhm," I confirmed proudly, "She's wonderful. And possessive, she hates me being on another horse."
His lips curled upward. "Steeds have minds of their own," he agreed.
"Is that one yours?" I asked, more to be polite than because I wanted to talk.
"Yes. We've come quite a ways together," the elf replied softly, half to the horse and half to me, "It is a long ride from Mirkwood."
Lowly, I did the little bit of a whistle that I could. "That is a long way," I agreed.
"Not so far as from Gondor, however," he said, subtly inquiring.
I found a brush on a shelf nearby and opened Damascus's stall. While she couldn't have carried me here, she deserved a good grooming. "Oh, I didn't come from Gondor, that's only Boromir. I'm from Tharbad," I corrected.
"I thought that you and Boromir were married?" the elf questioned, also beginning to brush down his horse.
"Yes, but it's a bit complicated to explain to someone whose name I don't know," I answered, teasing, "If you want to hear it, anyways."
"Ah, apologies for my rudeness. I am Legolas," he replied politely.
"Cass. Good to meet you," I told him, only looking up for a moment to meet his eyes and smile in greeting. Then my attention was back on Damascus and making her shine like the steel she was named for.
"Is the hound yours as well?" Legolas asked.
"Mhm. Now that I'm out of the healing ward, he's coming back to sleep in my room," I answered proudly. I didn't care to say that he was sleeping between me and Boromir until my dear husband stopped being such a prick.
When I looked to see what Gander was doing, he was simply sitting in the aisle of the stables, turning his head from Legolas to me like he was following our conversation. Silly puppy.
For a while Legolas and I talked horses, telling stories about funny things they had done. When he started telling me about how a horse had once tried eating Strider's hair, I had to lean on Damascus. "You and Strider have known each other for a long time, huh?" I asked once I was able to get back to work.
"We met when he was still a young man, many years ago," Legolas said nostalgically, "We have been through much together." He then added as an afterthought, "Though nothing so dangerous as the task that faces us now."
I doubted anything in the world, except maybe traversing Moria, was as dangerous as this. "If anyone can do it, it's the Fellowship," I said firmly.
A little chuckle, but it was still musical like his voice. "Humans. You have faith even in the darkest situations," Legolas said wistfully.
"If we don't, Mordor has already won," I stated baldly, "This is less faith as faith and more faith as a method of spite." Because fuck Sauron and all his creatures, and fuck that ring especially.
This time I got a full laugh. I just had to look up and see his face, and even though he was still disconcertingly pretty, everyone looks better when they're laughing. I couldn't help a few giggles of my own.
We chatted a bit more as we continued to care for the horses. It was mostly exchanging info about our homes, his deep in the caves of northern Mirkwood where danger was always rife. It sounded like a beautiful, if difficult, place to live. The spiders freaked me out if I were honest; after that time York got bitten by a black widow I was more than a bit wary of spiders.
He seemed equally fascinated by the small existence I had gotten used to. I didn't even need to exaggerate my siblings' antics or Aunt Libby's badassitude, just keep talking about our gradual reviving of Tharbad. "It's a life," I finished contentedly, "Maybe if we all survive this quest, you can visit."
We put our supplies away and Legolas replied, "It is far too early to plan for after. The thought is pleasant, however."
That much, we could agree on. At the door we said goodbye, him going toward the house and me lingering in the outdoors. "Wanna play?" I asked Gander.
At the word 'play' he perked up.
I skipped lunch in the interests of avoiding Boromir, instead playing fetch and walking around the gardens with Gander. Nearer to dinner I came across a group of elves chattering in their own language and was reminded of the incident at the council. Was it just the black speech, or could I listen in any language? Like I did then, I wished that I could understand them.
"I still cannot believe that there are dwarves in Imladris again," one was complaining to his companions, "I don't know how Lord Elrond can ignore his elvish sensibilities like this."
"He is half human," one of the others pointed out.
Huh. Well that explained why he wasn't ridiculously hot, I thought as I passed by. The things one can learn from eavesdropping!
Relief crashed through me that it wasn't only Mordor-ish I could suddenly understand. Must be the translation spell, I determined as I headed back to my room to wash before dinner. Though why it didn't act like this when listening to Rohirric, I wasn't sure. Maybe I had just accepted that I couldn't understand and didn't even think of listening in?
Whatever this was, I could listen in on anyone and they wouldn't even know! How useful this would be! All the gossip, none of the trouble.
At least while I was in the corridor I held back, but the second I was in my room and leaning on the door, I cackled evilly.
"Are you alright?" Boromir's voice froze me in place. Damn. I had hoped to delay seeing him again until there were other people around.
Awkwardly I smiled. "As alright as I ever am," I answered, "Getting ready for dinner?"
Obviously, Boromir held up a clean shirt that definitely wasn't his and nodded. "You should clean up," he suggested quietly.
Looking down at myself, I cringed. The front of my dress was visibly dirty from Gander's paws and lord only knew what was on the hem of my dress. Whoever did the laundry around here was going to be so angry. "Oops?" I asked sheepishly, "I was in the stables."
He was definitely spending too much time around me, I thought when he smacked his own forehead. "So that's where you were!" he exclaimed, voice muffled as he dragged his hand down his face.
"Mhm." A bit wary, I watched him set the shirt down and cross the room.
"Earlier, I shouldn't have dragged you like a child. I apologize," he told me, eyes sincere but conflicted, "I… don't know what came over me." He reached out but didn't dare touch my arm.
I raised it and took his hand, just like I always had. As I intended to always do. "The stupid ring was influencing us both," I replied, smiling weakly, "But if you do that under your own power, I'm giving you a black eye." It was only half a joke, but I laughed anyway.
It got a chuckle from Boromir, slightly nervous but more relieved than anything. "I would deserve it, in that case," he admitted.
Reassuringly, I squeezed the hand I held. "Where can I get a bath?" I asked, suddenly aware of how I reeked.
Maybe Boromir was trying to make things up to me, since he not only took me to the bathhouse but carried my clothes and toiletries bag for me. "See you in the hall," I told him and entered the side that he assured me was for the ladies.
The bathhouse wasn't empty like I had hoped, two elves already in the steaming water, chattering happily to each other. When I entered they paused, but quickly took up their conversation again. When I listened in, they were talking rather excitedly about how the very eligible, very single prince of Mirkwood was around and perhaps he'd take an interest in a wife, finally?
My throat went tight with suppressed laughter. Obviously they didn't know about the quest, or else they'd know he wasn't looking that far into the future. Though Legolas hadn't said anything about being royalty, it made sense; everyone at the council was someone important.
Once my belongings were sorted, I went to undress. For a moment I paused, self conscious, but shook my head and pulled my laces free. I was used to being the ugly one, and compared to elves, even Electra and Aditi weren't that good-looking; there was nothing I could do, so why worry? Or at least that was what I told myself as I pulled the beautiful, ruined, dress over my head, followed shortly by the slip.
The bandages were more difficult. They were tied at my shoulders and the sides of my waist so they weren't impossible, but sometimes they did tug at my scabs uncomfortably. There wasn't any blood that I saw, so I quickly wound the bandages in a roll to put back on later.
When my back was visible the elves paused in their conversation, but quickly returned to it.
As quickly as I could I slid into the water, much more comfortable once the water covered me. I nodded in greeting to the elves before I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the rim of the spring. Bless elvish engineering, I thought fondly as the sudden warmth made me shiver the cold away; this was the first guilt-free bath I've had in years.
Several minutes passed before I decided that I should actually get clean, so I could go to dinner. Reluctantly I opened my eyes and reached backward for the soap.
"Pardon our curiosity," one of the elves said in heavily accented common speech, "Is it true that you killed a wraith with its own blade?" If her expression was anything to go by, she believed it as much as I used to believe in elves.
It was so satisfying to raise my soap in a salute and say, "Yep, that was me."
The elf who had asked exchanged astonished looks with her friend.
"Yeah, I can't quite believe it either," I admitted with a nervous chuckle, then added, "But I really can't believe how beautiful this place is! It's like Rivendell grew out of the stone instead of being built!"
The blonde elf-woman smiled. "It partially was," she told me, "Lord Elrond is capable of mighty deeds when he needs, and there was a mighty need when he established this city in the Second Age."
Wait, the second age… My eyebrows shot up. "Wait, so he's like four thousand years old?" I questioned in disbelief.
"More," the brunette replied, "He was born in the First Age, before the world was changed."
Lowly I whistled, impressed. "Duuude," I said to no one in particular.
The elves frowned in confusion at me, then giggled. I was reminded strongly of myself and Brise as teenagers.
"So, what do you think of all these strangers riding in? Some of them are really good looking, aren't they?" I asked conspiratorially.
Again they exchanged glances, but this time those were of delighted surprise.
"Prince Legolas is very handsome," the blonde acknowledged coyly.
It could have been an hour that we stayed in the water gossiping, I didn't pay attention. It was just too much fun to swap rumors and opinions, and generally chat with other women. By the time we were done cleaning up and soaking, I had the feeling I'd made two new friends.
No matter that they were way too pretty and their ridiculously enhanced senses were weird, elves weren't that bad.