Chapter 2
The Journey Begins
The next morning the Fellowship gathered at the gates of Rivendell. Elrond was there to see them off, along with his children and a host of other elves. The group did not carry much, just food, clothing and camp gear. Each person also carried his weapon of choice.
Kalan was the last to arrive, carrying a small pack and his sword. He nodded to Elrond then to his companions. Elrond smiled, then spoke.
"Your journey is dangerous, but your hearts are strong. Be true to each other and to your own hearts, and you shall succeed." His eyes lighted on each of them. "Nai tiruiantel ar vanovantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya (1)," he added.
~Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'~ a soft, deep and familiar voice said in Kalan's head. ~Namaarie, Gildae, (2)~
~Tenna' Tul're, heruamin, (3)~
Without speaking, the Fellowship turned and left through the gates, out of the fair elven city. They would take a course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days.
The second week into the journey, and not much had hindered the Fellowship. They had not much to eat, so they rationed out what they had. However, unbeknownst to the group, Kalan divided up his portion between the halflings. The fifteenth night, Gimli noticed that the boy was not eating.
"You should eat something, young Kalan. We all need our strength in the days ahead," said the dwarf gruffly. Kalan turned to him. It just then dawned on the rest of them that Kalan had not been eating for a while. The hobbits looked down at their food, just then noticing the extra portions. Aragorn stood and joined Kalan on the other side of the fire.
"Kalan, we are all equal here, you need nourishment to keep going," he said quietly. Kalan smiled up at the man.
"That's where you are wrong. I don't. I have been doing this ever since the start of our journey. I do not need food like you do, and the hobbits need more to keep going. No one is harmed, they are helped, there is no need to worry about me, Aragorn." He answered, calmly and very neutrally.
"How is that possible?" the man asked, "Fourteen days without food! You should be dead!" he exclaimed. Kalan smiled again, a secret smile.
"Yes, and if I was like you I would be, if I was like you I should have died over one thousand years ago. But I am not like you," he said simply, as if that explained everything and he turned back to the forest, piercing the darkness with his silver gaze. Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but Kalan cut him off. "We all have our secrets, Aragorn. No I am not an elf, nor am I even half-elven. My secrets are mine to keep, don't ask questions to which you do not want to know the answer," and that was that, his tone allowed no rebuttal. None spoke of it again, not that night, anyway.
Kalan took first watch as the others slept. Out of his pocket he took a small wooden flute, ornately decorated with carved symbols and elvish designs. Kalan placed his nimble fingers over the holes along the top and brought the instrument to his lips.
Legolas watched the boy, feigning the sleep of elves (eyes open). A quiet, low note floated out from the flute, gently rising in crescendo. Kalan moved his fingers slowly over the holes, changing the tones, a beautiful song formed from the simple tube. The music had an edge of contentment and relaxation, love and happiness. Though not jovial or excited, but more quiet and laid-back. The music began to take hold of the elf, the taut muscles in his back and legs relaxing. His neck loosened and his mind became untroubled.
Legolas looked over to the sleeping hobbits, huddled close together under their blankets. Sam, who normally slept fitfully and frowning, wore a peaceful expression on his face. The others were almost the same.
The music changed slightly, almost imperceptibly, becoming lower then finally dropping off into oblivion on the last note. Kalan took the flute from his lips, his silver eyes closed and he sighed. Opening his eyes he looked around at the group and he nodded with satisfaction, then put the flute away.
Legolas stood, gracefully and walked silently around the fire, joining Kalan on the ground. For a while neither said anything, then Legolas spoke.
"That was beautiful, where did you learn it?" he asked in a hushed voice. Kalan turned his silver gaze to the elf beside him.
"I didn't. Like the elves, I can play my feelings, and I felt like that," he said, pointing over the sleeping figures. Legolas nodded, understanding. There was a few more minutes of companionable silence, then Legolas could contain himself no more.
"Kalan, what are you?" he asked, his keen eyes saw the boy tense, "You are not a man, for you need no food and say you are over one thousand years old. Yet you are not an elf," he reached out and brushed the dark hair back from the boy's face, revealing a small, human-like ear. "I feel your power, strange and old, in you. I can see the fire that burns in your silver eyes," his hand moved to brush a few strands of hair out of those eyes. He felt Kalan flinch and shift away from his questing hand. Legolas let his hand drop, but his eyes remained fixed on the boy. "the other are concerned that you are something...unnatural," he said in a low voice.
Kalan smirked, ironically, "Then they are more perceptive than I give them credit for," he said. He finally raised his gaze to look at the fair elf. "Legolas, all you need to know is hat I am here to help the Fellowship to destroy the One Ring. Who or what I am bears no precedence over this quest. But, for your comfort, I shall explain a few things," he settled back against a tree, then continued. "Before you, you see a human boy, possibly no older that eighteen years old. But my mind is older than even the elves. My mind and heart hold the memories of even before the creation of Middle-Earth." He paused watching the elf's reaction, then continued, "They are memories passed down to each generation of my race, from the oldest of my ancestors. They came to me from my father, though I never knew him," Kalan paused then as if held back by something.
"Kalan, are you all right?" asked the elf. When the youth did not respond, Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder, gently. Kalan blinked, as if coming out of a dream.
"I'm sorry, Legolas. I've already said too much. If you are to know about me and my kind, then the Fates will decide when to reveal all," he looked back at the fire and the conversation was ended.
* * *
After being thwarted from their passage south by spies of Saruman, the Fellowship decided to take the pass of Caradhras through the Misty Mountains.
The wind howled and chilled dramatically, it swept their cloaks about them. The sudden blizzard had caught them off-guard. With Gandalf leading and Legolas with his keen elven eyes, they made their way toward the mountain.
The snowstorm increased its furry until even Legolas could only see a few feet. There was nothing to be seen around them; they couldn't even see the mountains anymore.
"We should go back!" Boromir called from where he led the pony, Bill ((long live Bill!)). "Go back and wait out the storm!" Aragorn turned to call back to him, but a faint cracking sound came to their ears, barely heard above the wind. Everyone stopped, fear growing in their eyes.
Aragorn looked down at his feet, and he nudged some snow away with his foot. It was ice! And it was swiftly cracking under his weight.
"Aragorn, look out!" Frodo yelled and launched himself at the man, and just as the ice broke he shoved him away, but fell into the hole himself.
"Frodo!" they screamed as the small figure disappeared. The other three hobbits crowded around the hole where he had fallen. Kalan grabbed them each by the collar and pulled them back.
"Lay flat, crawl to the edge!" he yelled and pointed to one side. Quickly he tore off his shirt and kicked off his boots.
"But what about Frodo?" Sam screamed. But Kalan did not answer, for he dove into the frigid waters after the hobbit.
"Do as he says!" cried Gandalf. Boromir had already pulled the pony in that direction and was waiting for the others.
A small cave, but big enough to hold all of them, was in the side of the mountain. Pippin rushed inside, shaking from fear and cold.
"What about Frodo?" he asked. Gandalf stood, and looked back out into the storm.
"It's in Kalan's hands now," he said.
*
Kalan couldn't feel his body; the freezing waters stole his warmth along with his breath. The current pulled him downward but he swam in the direction the hobbit would have gone.
His sharp silver eyes searched the depths for any sign of Frodo. Suddenly, he spotted a smaller figure kicking madly toward the surface.
Kalan reached out and grabbed Frodo around the waist and swam tot the surface. Kalan hit at the ice with his palm. Fortunately, he found a small pocket of air between the water and the ice. He forced Frodo's head up and pushed his face against the ice, letting him breathe.
Holding the hobbit close, Kalan swung his fist at the ice. Nothing. The he swung again, a slight crack formed and with it the water turned a slight pinkish color. Kalan grunted and swung again, the crack widened and his knuckles poured blood.
Frodo felt the world darkening around the edges of his vision. He began to go limp. Kalan noticed and shoved him up for another breath in the pocket. He slapped Frodo, forcing him back to consciousness.
Kalan swung again his fist connecting with the ice. Overhead, he could see forms hovering over the ice. Kalan hit at the ice again, his hand now a bleeding mess. A small chuck flew out and Kalan pushed Frodo to the hole allowing him to breathe once more. He hit and hit at the hole until it was large enough to push the hobbit through.
Waiting there was Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas. The wizard and Aragorn took the hobbit, who was barely conscious, his skin a bit blue. Kalan gasped, coughing up water, his arms shaking from strain and cold. He hung there on the edge for a moment and was about to haul himself out when something wrapped around his leg.
Kalan screamed as something sharp pierced his calf through. Legolas set an arrow to his bow as Boromir reached for Kalan, but the boy was pulled back under.
"No!" Frodo cried, just coming to in time to see Kalan disappear. Aragorn handed the shaking hobbit to his friends and also took out his bow. Legolas was searching the dark waters with his elven eyes, trying to find Kalan and what had attacked him.
Under the water Kalan struggled and kicked at the thing on his leg. It seemed to be like a tentacle with a large stinger at the end. His bleeding hand must have attracted some creature from the depths. His air was running out and cold had numbed his entire body. Feebly, he struggled, his strength fading. `I can't die here! The Ring must be destroyed, they still need me!' he thought.
Suddenly, something sped past him, mere inches from his nose. The tentacle quivered and loosened its hold. Another...arrow, his dim mind faintly registered, went by. It struck the beast and the stinger drew out of his leg.
Kalan, now free, began to swim upward, but his leg and hand were bleeding heavily and his vision was darkening. Just as he was about to pass out, a glowing rod shot into the water right in front of his face. He reached out and grasped it...the wood seemed familiar. It took the last of his strength to hold on as someone pulled him to the surface.
Kalan broke through the water, gasping. Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and hauled him out of the frigid water. He looked up, his vision was blurry, and colors were running together. Vaguely he made out the faced of Aragorn and Legolas. He looked to the right and saw Gandalf standing there, his staff held a glow, but it was fading swiftly.
Voices, someone was speaking, but he didn't know whom. He could barely make out what they were saying.
"Get him...cave...quickly!" he then felt himself being lifted, he was slung over someone's shoulder. Kalan was too cold and weak to protest.
Suddenly, he was lying in a cave, a large fire to his right. The heat just barely penetrating his cold skin. On the other side he saw three small figures huddled around a fourth, who was shivering. One pushed a steaming mug into the shivering one's hands. Faintly, his mind registered. He pushed up, not even noticing the hands on his own benumbed skin. He struggled to see.
"Frodo," he managed to croak out, was that his voice? "Is Frodo all right? Tell - tell me..." his voice broke off as he began to shiver violently. Aragorn gently, but firmly, pushed him back down, placing layers of blankets and cloaks over his body.
"Frodo's fine, hush now, let us care for you," he said in a quiet tone that demanded obedience. Kalan rested his head back, someone had placed a soft bundle under his head. He closed his eyes, barely feeling the hands on him through his frozen skin.
"We have to get that bleeding stopped, hand me some cloth," someone was saying, a hand gently cradled his injured one.
"That thing may have been poisonous," the same voice. Another hand was on his leg, tearing his pants to see the wound. Fingers touched the wound.
"No, no traces of an poison. But he's lost too much blood - Ow! Damn!" someone cursed and the hands moved away. Kalan's eyes shot open.
"No! Don't touch my blood!" his head fell back weakly, "Don't...burn you..."his eyes closed once more. Aragorn put on his leather gloves before continuing.
Kalan faded into oblivion as they worked.
* * *
Hehe...left you with a cliffhanger, don't you just hate me! Thanks to all who reviewed, love ya all!! Hope you are liking the story, `tis my first posting, yep I'm a newbie ;) Keep up the reviews, your comments are greatly appreciated. Next chapter: learn more about Kalan's past!
1)Elvish farewell: "May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky,"
2) My heart shall weep until it sees thee again. Farewell, Gildae,"
3) Until then, my lord,
The Journey Begins
The next morning the Fellowship gathered at the gates of Rivendell. Elrond was there to see them off, along with his children and a host of other elves. The group did not carry much, just food, clothing and camp gear. Each person also carried his weapon of choice.
Kalan was the last to arrive, carrying a small pack and his sword. He nodded to Elrond then to his companions. Elrond smiled, then spoke.
"Your journey is dangerous, but your hearts are strong. Be true to each other and to your own hearts, and you shall succeed." His eyes lighted on each of them. "Nai tiruiantel ar vanovantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya (1)," he added.
~Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'~ a soft, deep and familiar voice said in Kalan's head. ~Namaarie, Gildae, (2)~
~Tenna' Tul're, heruamin, (3)~
Without speaking, the Fellowship turned and left through the gates, out of the fair elven city. They would take a course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days.
The second week into the journey, and not much had hindered the Fellowship. They had not much to eat, so they rationed out what they had. However, unbeknownst to the group, Kalan divided up his portion between the halflings. The fifteenth night, Gimli noticed that the boy was not eating.
"You should eat something, young Kalan. We all need our strength in the days ahead," said the dwarf gruffly. Kalan turned to him. It just then dawned on the rest of them that Kalan had not been eating for a while. The hobbits looked down at their food, just then noticing the extra portions. Aragorn stood and joined Kalan on the other side of the fire.
"Kalan, we are all equal here, you need nourishment to keep going," he said quietly. Kalan smiled up at the man.
"That's where you are wrong. I don't. I have been doing this ever since the start of our journey. I do not need food like you do, and the hobbits need more to keep going. No one is harmed, they are helped, there is no need to worry about me, Aragorn." He answered, calmly and very neutrally.
"How is that possible?" the man asked, "Fourteen days without food! You should be dead!" he exclaimed. Kalan smiled again, a secret smile.
"Yes, and if I was like you I would be, if I was like you I should have died over one thousand years ago. But I am not like you," he said simply, as if that explained everything and he turned back to the forest, piercing the darkness with his silver gaze. Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but Kalan cut him off. "We all have our secrets, Aragorn. No I am not an elf, nor am I even half-elven. My secrets are mine to keep, don't ask questions to which you do not want to know the answer," and that was that, his tone allowed no rebuttal. None spoke of it again, not that night, anyway.
Kalan took first watch as the others slept. Out of his pocket he took a small wooden flute, ornately decorated with carved symbols and elvish designs. Kalan placed his nimble fingers over the holes along the top and brought the instrument to his lips.
Legolas watched the boy, feigning the sleep of elves (eyes open). A quiet, low note floated out from the flute, gently rising in crescendo. Kalan moved his fingers slowly over the holes, changing the tones, a beautiful song formed from the simple tube. The music had an edge of contentment and relaxation, love and happiness. Though not jovial or excited, but more quiet and laid-back. The music began to take hold of the elf, the taut muscles in his back and legs relaxing. His neck loosened and his mind became untroubled.
Legolas looked over to the sleeping hobbits, huddled close together under their blankets. Sam, who normally slept fitfully and frowning, wore a peaceful expression on his face. The others were almost the same.
The music changed slightly, almost imperceptibly, becoming lower then finally dropping off into oblivion on the last note. Kalan took the flute from his lips, his silver eyes closed and he sighed. Opening his eyes he looked around at the group and he nodded with satisfaction, then put the flute away.
Legolas stood, gracefully and walked silently around the fire, joining Kalan on the ground. For a while neither said anything, then Legolas spoke.
"That was beautiful, where did you learn it?" he asked in a hushed voice. Kalan turned his silver gaze to the elf beside him.
"I didn't. Like the elves, I can play my feelings, and I felt like that," he said, pointing over the sleeping figures. Legolas nodded, understanding. There was a few more minutes of companionable silence, then Legolas could contain himself no more.
"Kalan, what are you?" he asked, his keen eyes saw the boy tense, "You are not a man, for you need no food and say you are over one thousand years old. Yet you are not an elf," he reached out and brushed the dark hair back from the boy's face, revealing a small, human-like ear. "I feel your power, strange and old, in you. I can see the fire that burns in your silver eyes," his hand moved to brush a few strands of hair out of those eyes. He felt Kalan flinch and shift away from his questing hand. Legolas let his hand drop, but his eyes remained fixed on the boy. "the other are concerned that you are something...unnatural," he said in a low voice.
Kalan smirked, ironically, "Then they are more perceptive than I give them credit for," he said. He finally raised his gaze to look at the fair elf. "Legolas, all you need to know is hat I am here to help the Fellowship to destroy the One Ring. Who or what I am bears no precedence over this quest. But, for your comfort, I shall explain a few things," he settled back against a tree, then continued. "Before you, you see a human boy, possibly no older that eighteen years old. But my mind is older than even the elves. My mind and heart hold the memories of even before the creation of Middle-Earth." He paused watching the elf's reaction, then continued, "They are memories passed down to each generation of my race, from the oldest of my ancestors. They came to me from my father, though I never knew him," Kalan paused then as if held back by something.
"Kalan, are you all right?" asked the elf. When the youth did not respond, Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder, gently. Kalan blinked, as if coming out of a dream.
"I'm sorry, Legolas. I've already said too much. If you are to know about me and my kind, then the Fates will decide when to reveal all," he looked back at the fire and the conversation was ended.
* * *
After being thwarted from their passage south by spies of Saruman, the Fellowship decided to take the pass of Caradhras through the Misty Mountains.
The wind howled and chilled dramatically, it swept their cloaks about them. The sudden blizzard had caught them off-guard. With Gandalf leading and Legolas with his keen elven eyes, they made their way toward the mountain.
The snowstorm increased its furry until even Legolas could only see a few feet. There was nothing to be seen around them; they couldn't even see the mountains anymore.
"We should go back!" Boromir called from where he led the pony, Bill ((long live Bill!)). "Go back and wait out the storm!" Aragorn turned to call back to him, but a faint cracking sound came to their ears, barely heard above the wind. Everyone stopped, fear growing in their eyes.
Aragorn looked down at his feet, and he nudged some snow away with his foot. It was ice! And it was swiftly cracking under his weight.
"Aragorn, look out!" Frodo yelled and launched himself at the man, and just as the ice broke he shoved him away, but fell into the hole himself.
"Frodo!" they screamed as the small figure disappeared. The other three hobbits crowded around the hole where he had fallen. Kalan grabbed them each by the collar and pulled them back.
"Lay flat, crawl to the edge!" he yelled and pointed to one side. Quickly he tore off his shirt and kicked off his boots.
"But what about Frodo?" Sam screamed. But Kalan did not answer, for he dove into the frigid waters after the hobbit.
"Do as he says!" cried Gandalf. Boromir had already pulled the pony in that direction and was waiting for the others.
A small cave, but big enough to hold all of them, was in the side of the mountain. Pippin rushed inside, shaking from fear and cold.
"What about Frodo?" he asked. Gandalf stood, and looked back out into the storm.
"It's in Kalan's hands now," he said.
*
Kalan couldn't feel his body; the freezing waters stole his warmth along with his breath. The current pulled him downward but he swam in the direction the hobbit would have gone.
His sharp silver eyes searched the depths for any sign of Frodo. Suddenly, he spotted a smaller figure kicking madly toward the surface.
Kalan reached out and grabbed Frodo around the waist and swam tot the surface. Kalan hit at the ice with his palm. Fortunately, he found a small pocket of air between the water and the ice. He forced Frodo's head up and pushed his face against the ice, letting him breathe.
Holding the hobbit close, Kalan swung his fist at the ice. Nothing. The he swung again, a slight crack formed and with it the water turned a slight pinkish color. Kalan grunted and swung again, the crack widened and his knuckles poured blood.
Frodo felt the world darkening around the edges of his vision. He began to go limp. Kalan noticed and shoved him up for another breath in the pocket. He slapped Frodo, forcing him back to consciousness.
Kalan swung again his fist connecting with the ice. Overhead, he could see forms hovering over the ice. Kalan hit at the ice again, his hand now a bleeding mess. A small chuck flew out and Kalan pushed Frodo to the hole allowing him to breathe once more. He hit and hit at the hole until it was large enough to push the hobbit through.
Waiting there was Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas. The wizard and Aragorn took the hobbit, who was barely conscious, his skin a bit blue. Kalan gasped, coughing up water, his arms shaking from strain and cold. He hung there on the edge for a moment and was about to haul himself out when something wrapped around his leg.
Kalan screamed as something sharp pierced his calf through. Legolas set an arrow to his bow as Boromir reached for Kalan, but the boy was pulled back under.
"No!" Frodo cried, just coming to in time to see Kalan disappear. Aragorn handed the shaking hobbit to his friends and also took out his bow. Legolas was searching the dark waters with his elven eyes, trying to find Kalan and what had attacked him.
Under the water Kalan struggled and kicked at the thing on his leg. It seemed to be like a tentacle with a large stinger at the end. His bleeding hand must have attracted some creature from the depths. His air was running out and cold had numbed his entire body. Feebly, he struggled, his strength fading. `I can't die here! The Ring must be destroyed, they still need me!' he thought.
Suddenly, something sped past him, mere inches from his nose. The tentacle quivered and loosened its hold. Another...arrow, his dim mind faintly registered, went by. It struck the beast and the stinger drew out of his leg.
Kalan, now free, began to swim upward, but his leg and hand were bleeding heavily and his vision was darkening. Just as he was about to pass out, a glowing rod shot into the water right in front of his face. He reached out and grasped it...the wood seemed familiar. It took the last of his strength to hold on as someone pulled him to the surface.
Kalan broke through the water, gasping. Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and hauled him out of the frigid water. He looked up, his vision was blurry, and colors were running together. Vaguely he made out the faced of Aragorn and Legolas. He looked to the right and saw Gandalf standing there, his staff held a glow, but it was fading swiftly.
Voices, someone was speaking, but he didn't know whom. He could barely make out what they were saying.
"Get him...cave...quickly!" he then felt himself being lifted, he was slung over someone's shoulder. Kalan was too cold and weak to protest.
Suddenly, he was lying in a cave, a large fire to his right. The heat just barely penetrating his cold skin. On the other side he saw three small figures huddled around a fourth, who was shivering. One pushed a steaming mug into the shivering one's hands. Faintly, his mind registered. He pushed up, not even noticing the hands on his own benumbed skin. He struggled to see.
"Frodo," he managed to croak out, was that his voice? "Is Frodo all right? Tell - tell me..." his voice broke off as he began to shiver violently. Aragorn gently, but firmly, pushed him back down, placing layers of blankets and cloaks over his body.
"Frodo's fine, hush now, let us care for you," he said in a quiet tone that demanded obedience. Kalan rested his head back, someone had placed a soft bundle under his head. He closed his eyes, barely feeling the hands on him through his frozen skin.
"We have to get that bleeding stopped, hand me some cloth," someone was saying, a hand gently cradled his injured one.
"That thing may have been poisonous," the same voice. Another hand was on his leg, tearing his pants to see the wound. Fingers touched the wound.
"No, no traces of an poison. But he's lost too much blood - Ow! Damn!" someone cursed and the hands moved away. Kalan's eyes shot open.
"No! Don't touch my blood!" his head fell back weakly, "Don't...burn you..."his eyes closed once more. Aragorn put on his leather gloves before continuing.
Kalan faded into oblivion as they worked.
* * *
Hehe...left you with a cliffhanger, don't you just hate me! Thanks to all who reviewed, love ya all!! Hope you are liking the story, `tis my first posting, yep I'm a newbie ;) Keep up the reviews, your comments are greatly appreciated. Next chapter: learn more about Kalan's past!
1)Elvish farewell: "May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky,"
2) My heart shall weep until it sees thee again. Farewell, Gildae,"
3) Until then, my lord,