Chapter 7
The hobbits were the last to arrive. The rain had slackened off for a while, and a fine, thin mist veiled everything. The paths towards Avalon were silvery slick, and the hedges and trees were beaded with stilled rainfall. The path twisted downhill a bit from the Pen, a few stars beginning to dot the cloud- smeared sky. The entire scene was one of enchantment. Rivendell had never looked more beautiful to Lis. The new and slightly mysterious arrival only added to the elegant excitement that seemed to crackle in the air. Gimli lead them past Avalon, into a part of the grounds Lis had never seen before. The small English garden Lis had seen outside the windows in Avalon's sitting room wound beside the new, smaller cobbled path. The smell of roses hung thick in the air like perfume. Past the thick, bleeding green hedges, the path wound down hill. A smallish ditch, now filled with water, followed the path downhill, the rainwater flowing and rippling sweetly, like a tiny, makeshift stream. At the end of the path, dotted with various shrubs and flowers trees, stood a large grove of willows.
Their wispy branches lay thick with feathery leaves, draping across the ground. Gimli lead them through the trees, the path little more than a pebble- out-lined path that meandered patternlessly through the massive, weepy trees. The hobbit's footfall was steady and sure, they knew the path as well as they knew their faces. Lis followed carefully, but the failing light of day and the chasm-like shadows of the grove aided in her increased confusion. Frodo, ever watchful, slackened his knowledgeable pace and coursed by her side.
The two strolled quietly through the grove, a reverent silence humming through the air like ceremonial incense. Frodo pointed every now and then deep into the grove, where a bench, or a well or a fountain would break the leafy monotony in a secretive way. Fireflies darted about the darkened branches, looking like tiny stars being swallowed by the shadows.
The grove was otherworldly.
"Frodo?" Lis whispered quietly, fearing to raise her voice too much.
"Hmm?"
"Who's Galadriel?"
"I told you, Arwen's sister."
"Yes, I know that, but why all this just to go see her? What is this place?"
"You have a lot of questions tonight, don't you?" Frodo grinned.
Lis just looked at him.
"Alright, fine. But one question at a time, please."
"Where are we exactly? How does a place like this come into existence without anyone knowing?"
"Good question. It actually didn't exist until three years ago. Arwen noticed that the property line extended way beyond the little garden behind Avalon, and suggested we plant something. So, we did. We planted the grove. It took us a year, but we did it. So many trees…" he moaned quietly, as if remembering long ago labor. "Ever since it was finished, we would have picnics out here, meetings in the moonlight," he darted his eyebrows up and down quickly, and Lis found herself smiling. "And Galadriel liked it out here. Something about the air. I dunno. So, naturally, whenever she comes back, we meet here. She hates the indoors with a passions. Says that walls block things she needs to be watchful of."
"Is she really a seer?"
"I'd bet my life on it. She's a bit cryptic, but all seers are, I think."
"Why'd she come back?"
Frodo shrugged. "Ya never know why Drili does anything she does. She never gives explanations, she just does."
Lis grew quiet as the path wound downward, through a thicket of holly bushes and smallish, snowy birch trees. The path stopped, opening up into a clearing, circular and large. The woods surrounding were blockaded, as if it were possible to blockade utter and beautiful wilderness. Tallish, wooden pillars, nine in all, stood sentinel about the clearing, small dirt paths winding their way through the woods appearing in between each.
The hobbits had already sat themselves comfortably on the soft, mossy grass, as everyone else had, when Lis and Frodo finally made it to the clearing. Frodo gave Lis a reassuring wink and joined his friends. Gimli sat next to them with Strider and Boromir. The three whispered quietly amongst each other quietly, their low, rumbling baritones spreading through the clearing like fog. Arwen was sitting next to a new face. A beautiful face. Galadriel's face. Lis knew it had to be. She looked just like Arwen, except that Galadriel was fair where Arwen was dark. She was lithe, and had fine, almost delicate features, like lace or porcelain. Long, fine blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her pale, moon-colored skin shimmered in the cool night air. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Perfect. Well, almost. Her eyes, which were a startling blue, stared straight ahead, even while she talked with Arwen. She never looked at anything, but seemed to see everything. Lis understood what Frodo was talking about.
Galadriel was blind.
Lis felt fingers wrap around her arm gently, and she turned to see Lee smiling behind her.
"I was beginning to give you up for lost." He smirked as he led her to an ornately decorated wooden bench that sat near one of the pillars.
"Gimli's work," he said, in response to the astonished and adoring look on Lis's face. " He's pretty handy with an ax."
Lis's attentions returned to the surrounding greenery. The entire area seemed to breathe. Musky, warm air circled the clearing in predator-like fashion, and Lis suddenly found it too hot for her. She looked around, hoping another one of Frodo's fountain was lurking somewhere near, when she caught Galadriel's eyes.
Those cool, sightless orbs were staring at her. At least, it seemed that way. Lis told herself she must be mistaken, but she couldn't shake the thought. Those eyes, or something else more intangible that waited behind them, were staring at her.
"Drili, where've you been?" Sam squealed from his spot on the grass. All conversations stopped, and every head looked at the blind beauty. Arwen, almost obediently, got up as sat on the grass near Strider and Gimli.
"Where I have been is not as important as what I have seen." She answered, her voice calm, and light, and airy, like a sunny breeze blowing gently through the clearing.
"Isn't that always the case, though, Drili." Strider drawled, to which Galadriel and the rest of the company snickered quietly.
"I suppose it is at that."
"Well, what have you seen then?" Arwen asked, a hint of strained concern in her usually light, carefree voice.
"I saw a fellowship of nine, a fire and a ring. A shadow and a blinding light. And riddles in the dark…"
Lis sat mesmerized, but everyone seemed unfazed.
"She always starts out like this," Lee whispered in her ear.
"I saw middle earth."
"Middle earth?" Frodo piped up. "Like in the Anigua?"
"Yes, my small friend. Except this is no fairy tale. Middle earth was, is, and ever shall be, very real. It's the air we are breathing now. The grass we sit on, he trees that surround us. This is middle earth, my friends."
The hobbits' eyes widened, and Lis could see a dozen questions dancing in their wide eyes.
"Ah, yes my hobbits. The Ring and the dark lord. Your minds are troubled are they not?"
Pippin just stared at her. "Ya know its been what, four years, and
that never gets old…"
"However, the answers I have must be taken on faith alone, for they are not in the Anigua. In fact, regarding what I am going to tell you, the Anigua is wrong completely."
"The dark lord did not just destroy the ring. A war was fought over it. Many died, many more lived, and now the history of those days has become even worse than legend, it has been written out of legend completely."
"But why, Drili?" Frodo asked.
"Simply because the Dark Lord has once again come to power, as he is meant to in every age."
Everyone's face went ashen, even Lis'. She wasn't an Anigua scholar, but even she knew the terrible things he had done in his existence.
"And if he has returned, that means the ring of power has as well, and the Fellowship must once again be reassembled."
"The Fellowship?" Strider asked.
"Nine set forth from Rivendell, in the days before its lord, Elrond, set sail for the lands west."
"Elrond? Rivendell?" Arwen's face clouded with confusion.
"Among the nine were, Gimli, son of Gloin, the dwarf,"
"What? I'm a dwarf?" Gimli exploded.
"Yea, tell us something we didn't know." Merry sputtered out and the hobbits joined in laughing, while Gimli scowled.
Legolas, son of Thodin. The Prince of the Mirkwood elves,"
"I'm a dwarf, and he gets to be an elf? Man this sucks,"
"Quiet Gimli…" Strider murmured quietly. Gimli stopped talking.
"The wizard, Gandalf the Gray,"
"Mr. Gandalf…" Sam mused.
Lis looked at Lee, and he leaned over to her.
"He's our teacher. He'll be yours too, once class starts again."
"Boromir, the man. The son of the Steward of Gondor,"
Boar didn't seem as unpleased with his telling as Gimli was, nor did anyone else contest or scoff at his connections. Boar was a Steward. Any one of them could have seen that.
"The hobbits, of The Shire. Gamgee, Took, BrandyBuck and Baggins. Bilbo brought the Ring to the third age, Frodo was loathed to carry it through middle earth to destroy it." The hobbits looked about proudly. Frodo and Bilbo exchanged a look before returning their eyes to Galadriel.
"And Strider. A Ranger. A dangerous man. And a liar."
At this, everyone looked from Strider to Galadriel and back again. Her eyes her fixed on some cloud-hidden image in the recesses of her mind. His eyes were cast down at the grass.
"A liar…?" Boar breathed quietly.
"He was not Strider by birth. But Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The heir of Isildiur and the rightful King of Gondor, Rohan and all points beyond."
Everyone's eyes were on Strider, no, Aragorn, their eyes glazed with disbelief. All except Arwen.
"You mean, Strider, I mean, Aragorn, lied to this Fellowship, his friends, about who he really was?" Boar spat out, his face calmly masking the seething anger building inside.
"No. Aragorn told one other. An elf of Rivendell. His love. Elrond's fair daughter, Arwen."
"My gods," Boromir stormed, getting up and pacing." So both of you…? Man. Does anyone else have any little things they'd like to share, like that they're really not who they said they were? Anyone?"
"Calm down Boar. You're over reacting." Legolas stood too, trying to ease the fuming man.
"Shut it Lee. I don't need any of your diplomacy right now."
"Hey, he's only trying to help." Lis said quietly, surprised at herself for having said anything at all.
"You? What makes you think you have the right to say anything at all? You walk in and after what, two days, you've deluded yourself into thinking you know us? You'll never even come close. You should've stayed in Mordor… trash…"
The next thing anyone heard was the dull thud of Legolas' hand connecting with suppressing force with Boromir's jaw. Boar stumbled back and grabbed his mouth, moaning in pain and shock. Every eye was on them, Lee especially. No one could ever remember him looking to beautiful grotesque, anger searing through his delicate, line-less skin.
"You ever talk to her that way again, and you'll be nursing more that a broken jaw, got me? Lee's voice was low and rumbling, like the sound of an approaching hurricane. Boar nodded and sat back down, and everyone looked away, wide-eyed. Lee sat down, calmly rubbing his red-knuckled hand. Lis put her own hand over her clenched fist.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Yes I did," he almost smiled. "I'm taking care of you now, remember?"
"Mordor?" Galadriel's voice broke through the ominous silence. "You say this girl if of Mordor?"
"Not really of Mordor, Drili," Arwen explained. "She just went to school there for a year."
The faintest lines of a smile played across the pale, beautiful face, and Lis became frightened.
"I knew I saw it here."
"Saw what?" Lee asked
"She may not be of Mordor. But she's marked by it sure enough. She's been tainted already by it, but not in ways that most can see."
Galadriel lowered her voice to a whisper, but it seemed o carry further now then it had before.
"He hurt you badly, didn't he?"
Lis didn't even have to ask whom she was talking about. She knew. She nodded. No use in pretending anymore.
"It's just as I thought then. Sauron has risen once more."
The name made her flesh crawl. One by one, the group turned to look at Lis, her own eyes cast downward as she blushed a bright, embarrassing scarlet.
"Sauron? You mean the quarter back for Mordor?" Frodo asked.
"No, I mean Sauron, the Dark Lord. They are one in the same. The name doesn't matter."
Lis' mind went numb. Sauron was the dark lord? How could that be? We wasn't powerful, or important anywhere outside of Mordor' walls.
"important elsewhere he wants to be…" Galadriel's voice whispered through her mind, answering questions Lis dared not ask.
"But if Sauron is the Dark Lord, what does that have to do with Lisaura?"
Legolas's voice was calm once more, though now I was edged with concern.
"Because, she has something that belongs to him. something he spent much time making and worrying over, for thousands of years."
Lis looked up, her eyes rimmed with tears.
"The Ring." she said simply, then the blackness claimed her again, and she collapsed, into Lee's waiting arms.
The hobbits were the last to arrive. The rain had slackened off for a while, and a fine, thin mist veiled everything. The paths towards Avalon were silvery slick, and the hedges and trees were beaded with stilled rainfall. The path twisted downhill a bit from the Pen, a few stars beginning to dot the cloud- smeared sky. The entire scene was one of enchantment. Rivendell had never looked more beautiful to Lis. The new and slightly mysterious arrival only added to the elegant excitement that seemed to crackle in the air. Gimli lead them past Avalon, into a part of the grounds Lis had never seen before. The small English garden Lis had seen outside the windows in Avalon's sitting room wound beside the new, smaller cobbled path. The smell of roses hung thick in the air like perfume. Past the thick, bleeding green hedges, the path wound down hill. A smallish ditch, now filled with water, followed the path downhill, the rainwater flowing and rippling sweetly, like a tiny, makeshift stream. At the end of the path, dotted with various shrubs and flowers trees, stood a large grove of willows.
Their wispy branches lay thick with feathery leaves, draping across the ground. Gimli lead them through the trees, the path little more than a pebble- out-lined path that meandered patternlessly through the massive, weepy trees. The hobbit's footfall was steady and sure, they knew the path as well as they knew their faces. Lis followed carefully, but the failing light of day and the chasm-like shadows of the grove aided in her increased confusion. Frodo, ever watchful, slackened his knowledgeable pace and coursed by her side.
The two strolled quietly through the grove, a reverent silence humming through the air like ceremonial incense. Frodo pointed every now and then deep into the grove, where a bench, or a well or a fountain would break the leafy monotony in a secretive way. Fireflies darted about the darkened branches, looking like tiny stars being swallowed by the shadows.
The grove was otherworldly.
"Frodo?" Lis whispered quietly, fearing to raise her voice too much.
"Hmm?"
"Who's Galadriel?"
"I told you, Arwen's sister."
"Yes, I know that, but why all this just to go see her? What is this place?"
"You have a lot of questions tonight, don't you?" Frodo grinned.
Lis just looked at him.
"Alright, fine. But one question at a time, please."
"Where are we exactly? How does a place like this come into existence without anyone knowing?"
"Good question. It actually didn't exist until three years ago. Arwen noticed that the property line extended way beyond the little garden behind Avalon, and suggested we plant something. So, we did. We planted the grove. It took us a year, but we did it. So many trees…" he moaned quietly, as if remembering long ago labor. "Ever since it was finished, we would have picnics out here, meetings in the moonlight," he darted his eyebrows up and down quickly, and Lis found herself smiling. "And Galadriel liked it out here. Something about the air. I dunno. So, naturally, whenever she comes back, we meet here. She hates the indoors with a passions. Says that walls block things she needs to be watchful of."
"Is she really a seer?"
"I'd bet my life on it. She's a bit cryptic, but all seers are, I think."
"Why'd she come back?"
Frodo shrugged. "Ya never know why Drili does anything she does. She never gives explanations, she just does."
Lis grew quiet as the path wound downward, through a thicket of holly bushes and smallish, snowy birch trees. The path stopped, opening up into a clearing, circular and large. The woods surrounding were blockaded, as if it were possible to blockade utter and beautiful wilderness. Tallish, wooden pillars, nine in all, stood sentinel about the clearing, small dirt paths winding their way through the woods appearing in between each.
The hobbits had already sat themselves comfortably on the soft, mossy grass, as everyone else had, when Lis and Frodo finally made it to the clearing. Frodo gave Lis a reassuring wink and joined his friends. Gimli sat next to them with Strider and Boromir. The three whispered quietly amongst each other quietly, their low, rumbling baritones spreading through the clearing like fog. Arwen was sitting next to a new face. A beautiful face. Galadriel's face. Lis knew it had to be. She looked just like Arwen, except that Galadriel was fair where Arwen was dark. She was lithe, and had fine, almost delicate features, like lace or porcelain. Long, fine blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her pale, moon-colored skin shimmered in the cool night air. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Perfect. Well, almost. Her eyes, which were a startling blue, stared straight ahead, even while she talked with Arwen. She never looked at anything, but seemed to see everything. Lis understood what Frodo was talking about.
Galadriel was blind.
Lis felt fingers wrap around her arm gently, and she turned to see Lee smiling behind her.
"I was beginning to give you up for lost." He smirked as he led her to an ornately decorated wooden bench that sat near one of the pillars.
"Gimli's work," he said, in response to the astonished and adoring look on Lis's face. " He's pretty handy with an ax."
Lis's attentions returned to the surrounding greenery. The entire area seemed to breathe. Musky, warm air circled the clearing in predator-like fashion, and Lis suddenly found it too hot for her. She looked around, hoping another one of Frodo's fountain was lurking somewhere near, when she caught Galadriel's eyes.
Those cool, sightless orbs were staring at her. At least, it seemed that way. Lis told herself she must be mistaken, but she couldn't shake the thought. Those eyes, or something else more intangible that waited behind them, were staring at her.
"Drili, where've you been?" Sam squealed from his spot on the grass. All conversations stopped, and every head looked at the blind beauty. Arwen, almost obediently, got up as sat on the grass near Strider and Gimli.
"Where I have been is not as important as what I have seen." She answered, her voice calm, and light, and airy, like a sunny breeze blowing gently through the clearing.
"Isn't that always the case, though, Drili." Strider drawled, to which Galadriel and the rest of the company snickered quietly.
"I suppose it is at that."
"Well, what have you seen then?" Arwen asked, a hint of strained concern in her usually light, carefree voice.
"I saw a fellowship of nine, a fire and a ring. A shadow and a blinding light. And riddles in the dark…"
Lis sat mesmerized, but everyone seemed unfazed.
"She always starts out like this," Lee whispered in her ear.
"I saw middle earth."
"Middle earth?" Frodo piped up. "Like in the Anigua?"
"Yes, my small friend. Except this is no fairy tale. Middle earth was, is, and ever shall be, very real. It's the air we are breathing now. The grass we sit on, he trees that surround us. This is middle earth, my friends."
The hobbits' eyes widened, and Lis could see a dozen questions dancing in their wide eyes.
"Ah, yes my hobbits. The Ring and the dark lord. Your minds are troubled are they not?"
Pippin just stared at her. "Ya know its been what, four years, and
that never gets old…"
"However, the answers I have must be taken on faith alone, for they are not in the Anigua. In fact, regarding what I am going to tell you, the Anigua is wrong completely."
"The dark lord did not just destroy the ring. A war was fought over it. Many died, many more lived, and now the history of those days has become even worse than legend, it has been written out of legend completely."
"But why, Drili?" Frodo asked.
"Simply because the Dark Lord has once again come to power, as he is meant to in every age."
Everyone's face went ashen, even Lis'. She wasn't an Anigua scholar, but even she knew the terrible things he had done in his existence.
"And if he has returned, that means the ring of power has as well, and the Fellowship must once again be reassembled."
"The Fellowship?" Strider asked.
"Nine set forth from Rivendell, in the days before its lord, Elrond, set sail for the lands west."
"Elrond? Rivendell?" Arwen's face clouded with confusion.
"Among the nine were, Gimli, son of Gloin, the dwarf,"
"What? I'm a dwarf?" Gimli exploded.
"Yea, tell us something we didn't know." Merry sputtered out and the hobbits joined in laughing, while Gimli scowled.
Legolas, son of Thodin. The Prince of the Mirkwood elves,"
"I'm a dwarf, and he gets to be an elf? Man this sucks,"
"Quiet Gimli…" Strider murmured quietly. Gimli stopped talking.
"The wizard, Gandalf the Gray,"
"Mr. Gandalf…" Sam mused.
Lis looked at Lee, and he leaned over to her.
"He's our teacher. He'll be yours too, once class starts again."
"Boromir, the man. The son of the Steward of Gondor,"
Boar didn't seem as unpleased with his telling as Gimli was, nor did anyone else contest or scoff at his connections. Boar was a Steward. Any one of them could have seen that.
"The hobbits, of The Shire. Gamgee, Took, BrandyBuck and Baggins. Bilbo brought the Ring to the third age, Frodo was loathed to carry it through middle earth to destroy it." The hobbits looked about proudly. Frodo and Bilbo exchanged a look before returning their eyes to Galadriel.
"And Strider. A Ranger. A dangerous man. And a liar."
At this, everyone looked from Strider to Galadriel and back again. Her eyes her fixed on some cloud-hidden image in the recesses of her mind. His eyes were cast down at the grass.
"A liar…?" Boar breathed quietly.
"He was not Strider by birth. But Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The heir of Isildiur and the rightful King of Gondor, Rohan and all points beyond."
Everyone's eyes were on Strider, no, Aragorn, their eyes glazed with disbelief. All except Arwen.
"You mean, Strider, I mean, Aragorn, lied to this Fellowship, his friends, about who he really was?" Boar spat out, his face calmly masking the seething anger building inside.
"No. Aragorn told one other. An elf of Rivendell. His love. Elrond's fair daughter, Arwen."
"My gods," Boromir stormed, getting up and pacing." So both of you…? Man. Does anyone else have any little things they'd like to share, like that they're really not who they said they were? Anyone?"
"Calm down Boar. You're over reacting." Legolas stood too, trying to ease the fuming man.
"Shut it Lee. I don't need any of your diplomacy right now."
"Hey, he's only trying to help." Lis said quietly, surprised at herself for having said anything at all.
"You? What makes you think you have the right to say anything at all? You walk in and after what, two days, you've deluded yourself into thinking you know us? You'll never even come close. You should've stayed in Mordor… trash…"
The next thing anyone heard was the dull thud of Legolas' hand connecting with suppressing force with Boromir's jaw. Boar stumbled back and grabbed his mouth, moaning in pain and shock. Every eye was on them, Lee especially. No one could ever remember him looking to beautiful grotesque, anger searing through his delicate, line-less skin.
"You ever talk to her that way again, and you'll be nursing more that a broken jaw, got me? Lee's voice was low and rumbling, like the sound of an approaching hurricane. Boar nodded and sat back down, and everyone looked away, wide-eyed. Lee sat down, calmly rubbing his red-knuckled hand. Lis put her own hand over her clenched fist.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Yes I did," he almost smiled. "I'm taking care of you now, remember?"
"Mordor?" Galadriel's voice broke through the ominous silence. "You say this girl if of Mordor?"
"Not really of Mordor, Drili," Arwen explained. "She just went to school there for a year."
The faintest lines of a smile played across the pale, beautiful face, and Lis became frightened.
"I knew I saw it here."
"Saw what?" Lee asked
"She may not be of Mordor. But she's marked by it sure enough. She's been tainted already by it, but not in ways that most can see."
Galadriel lowered her voice to a whisper, but it seemed o carry further now then it had before.
"He hurt you badly, didn't he?"
Lis didn't even have to ask whom she was talking about. She knew. She nodded. No use in pretending anymore.
"It's just as I thought then. Sauron has risen once more."
The name made her flesh crawl. One by one, the group turned to look at Lis, her own eyes cast downward as she blushed a bright, embarrassing scarlet.
"Sauron? You mean the quarter back for Mordor?" Frodo asked.
"No, I mean Sauron, the Dark Lord. They are one in the same. The name doesn't matter."
Lis' mind went numb. Sauron was the dark lord? How could that be? We wasn't powerful, or important anywhere outside of Mordor' walls.
"important elsewhere he wants to be…" Galadriel's voice whispered through her mind, answering questions Lis dared not ask.
"But if Sauron is the Dark Lord, what does that have to do with Lisaura?"
Legolas's voice was calm once more, though now I was edged with concern.
"Because, she has something that belongs to him. something he spent much time making and worrying over, for thousands of years."
Lis looked up, her eyes rimmed with tears.
"The Ring." she said simply, then the blackness claimed her again, and she collapsed, into Lee's waiting arms.