THE JOYS OF A BEARD
by Soledad
Disclaimer: Not mine, all Tolkien's, except the Mary Sue and the weird plot. Sue me, and you'll be given the Sue – pardon the really bad pun.
Rating: PG, for extreme sappiness and evil plots in the background.
Summary: The Fellowship is about to set off. Guess who is going with them? Let me give you a hint: 'tis not Melpomaen.
Author's notes: Now we have finally reached the time when the Fellowship leaves Rivendell. In this and possibly also in the next chapter, I shall be using quotes from ''The Return of the Shadow'', as I am trying to use the oldest possible material for this particular fic.
There will be some more stuff about the royal family of Mirkwood. After all, we have to show that every one but Legolas is evil in that bunch.
BTW, in case you have not realized, now we have a Marty Sam in the story, too. At least I think that is what a male Sue is called, right?
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''If the Elves knew the joys of a beard, no dwarf would be safe.'' – Legolas, in ''A Diamond Between Wood and Stone'', the most poetic Legolas/Gimli story I've ever read. Written by Pythoness, may the Valar bless her.
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CHAPTER 8: THE TENTH WALKER
On the next day, the some more of the scouts returned: the ones who had passed the mountains both by the High Pass and Annerduin(1), and by the passage at the sources of the Palathin(2). These were the last to return, for they had descended into Wilderland as far as the Palath-ledin(3), and that was a great way from Rivendell, even for the swiftest Elves. But neither they nor those who had received the aid of the Eagles near Goblin Gate had discovered any news – except that the wild wolves called wargs were gathering again and were hunting once more between the Mountains and Mirkwood. No sign of the Black Riders had been found – except on the rocks below the Ford the bodies of several drowned horses, and a long black cloak slashed and tattered.
''One can never know'', answered Gandalf to the eager questions of the hobbits, ''but it does look as if the Riders were dispersed – and have had to make their way as best they could back to Mordor. In that case there will still be a long while before the hunt begins again. We had better make our way to Elrond's chamber at once; for we need to get off as soon as possible now, and he is ready to name the companions of the Ring in this very morning.''
With that, he led the four hobbits to the western wing of the House, where he knocked at a big door and entered, without waiting for an answer, a small room, the western side of which opened onto a porch beyond which the ground fell sheer to the foaming river.
All the others were already there: the Elves of Mirkwood, the Dwarves and Elrond's kinsmen, waiting only for the Ring-bearer and his friends to arrive. Trotter and Boromir sat at the opposite ends of the porch, exchanging hostile looks (when they were not gazing at the Princess in complete enchantment), and Bilbo seemed to slumber at Elrond's side.
They were seated, and Elrond had finally come to announce his decision about the Fellowship of the Ring. He rose from his seat with great dignity, cleared his throat and said in his clear voice:
''Strangers from distant lands, friends of old(4). Now we have come to our hard decision: who shall accompany the Ring on its way to the Fire. Frodo has already offered himself unbidden to carry this burden, and it seems to me that 'tis a task appointed to him from the very beginning. His kinsmen of the Little Folk have voiced their heartfelt wishes to accompany him, and I shall not hold them back. But since Gandalf keeps telling that he is used to take care of hobbits, he shall go with them, too.''
''What about Trotter?'' Frodo asked in a small, quivering voice, his rosebud lips trembling with fear. ''Cannot Trotter come with us as well?''
''Oh, but he will'', Elrond answered with a smile, ''at least for a while. For his way leads, ultimately, to Minas Tirith, in order to free the city of his sires from the siege of the wild Men of the East; this shall be the battle where the ownership of Gondor's throne shall finally be decided. Therefore, Boromir shall be part of the Fellowship as well.''
''Yet 'tis the quest of all free peoples, my Lord'', the Princess Ianorewen(5) added in her sweet, lyrical voice. ''Thus it shall be necessary that Elves and Dwarves go with the Fellowship, too.''
''I offer my bow and my scouting crafts'', Legolas promptly replied. ''No-one knows the forest as well as I who have spent hundreds of years as a border guard in the service of Mirkwood's King and people.''
''Legolas is right'', Gandalf nodded, ere Elrond could have answered a thing. ''We need a good woodsman and archer in our midst, and he is used to work with Men. Even with Dwarves.''
''As for a Dwarf'', Legolas added sweetly, ''I am certain that Gimli son of Glóin shall be willing to come with us at least as far as Moria, where his kinsfolk has settled again'', and he gave the Dwarf an innocent smile.
''Why, certainly, I gladly offer my axe to the Ring-bearer's protection'', Gimli grumbled, seeing at once where his secret lover was going, and watching with growing unrest the dark shadow clouding the beautiful face of the Princess. Blast, but Legolas must have been right, he thought uncomfortably.
''Brute strength alone shall not be enough to protect the Ring or its Bearer, my good Dwarf'', the Lady Ianorewen said in that honeyed voice of hers that enthralled every one who listened to it, be it male or female, Elf, Man or hobbit; fortunately, Gimli already kept an other sweet voice in his heart, thus he remained untouched by her spell. ''You might meet with foes that cannot be warned off by weapons of war.''
Elrond agreed, and warned them to journey by dusk and dark as often as might be, and to lie hid when they could in the broad daylight.
''When the news reaches Sauron'', he said, ''of the discomfiture of the Nine Riders, he will be filed with great anger. When the hunt begins again, it will be far greater and more ravenous.''
''Are there still more black Riders then?'' asked Frodo, casting the Princess an amiable gaze, begging for reassurance.
''Nay'', she said, smiling at him, so that the hobbit almost swooned off his seat, while Sam was valiantly fighting off the ever-rising waves of bitter jealousy. ''There are but Nine Ringwraiths(6). But when they come forth again, I fear they will be greatly strengthened by the black magic of their Dark Lord, who is not called the Necromancer for naught among our people. Thus you shall need the protection of earth magic that only the Anointed Ones of Yavanna can provide. Therefore, I shall go with you as well.''
''What?'' exclaimed Erestor and Legolas at the same time, but Elrond raised his hand, and lo! the blue crystal of the Ring of Power gleamed upon his finger(7).
''Be silent, cousin!'' he said to Erestor. ''The Lady Ianorewen and I have discussed this matter at length, and I, too, feel that her mystic powers will be needed on this quest. What is more, now that 'tis obvious that the two of you have failed to form a soul-bond, I hereby declare your betrothal as a failure. When this quest is over, it shall be annulled and the Princess shall wed an other one from our family.''
''And who, pray you, shall that be?'' Erestor hissed, clearly furious. He was not used to giving up aught – or any one – he considered his.
''That'', Elrond replied calmly, ''shall be revealed at the proper time. Right now, the Fellowship should prepare for their quest. The Ten Walkers shall go against the Dark One and his Nine Readers – ten against ten, evil balanced against good(8). You shall leave in seven day's time(9).''
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The following six days were spent with preparations and farewells. Elrond and Gandalf spent all their time with the Princess, discussing the possible perils of the upcoming journey, at times including Trotter and even Frodo, which made the hobbit giddy with joy and Boromir fuming with wrath for being left out. However, this gave Legolas and Gimli the most appreciated chance to spend long, undisturbed hours together, merrily mapping the delightful difference between Elven and Dwarven bodies. And that was when Melpomaen accidentally walked in on them on their favourite porch that adjoined the east wing of the Last Homely House.
The young Elf was not in the best mood. His pregnancy had just begun to show, giving his much too thin frame a pleasant fullness that he had lacked before, but it already made him mad with fear that Erestor would not want him any more. Surely, Erestor had been in a foul mood ever since Elrond had declared his betrothal with the Princess a failure, and Melpomaen's morning sickness annoyed him to no end, which made the confused young Elf even more miserable.
Fortunately, he ran into that sturdy young hobbit again, and the small gardener's wide-eyed admiration, added to some more… gardening lessons that left him pleasantly tender afterwards, helped to strengthen his fragile state of mind, so that he finally gathered enough courage to seek out his brother.
He was not prepared, of course, to find him sitting on the ground, with the head of a Dwarf resting upon his lap, his long fingers gently combing that gorgeous, curly beard that covered Gimli's broad chest like dark waves of the stormy Sea. The young Elf froze and tried to retreat unnoticed, but Legolas' keen eyes had already caught a glimpse of him, and he reached out his free hand to him.
''Join us, little brother. I have been looking for you earlier on, but you were no-where to find. I am relieved to hear that our sister was able to persuade the Lord Elrond to keep you here. You owe her for that, you know.''
''Aye, I know'', Melpomaen said unhappily and lowered himself to the ground with a care that made Legolas smile wistfully, ''and I fear she would make me pay for that dearly. Mayhap I would be better off if they sold me to the South Haven. At least my mother might still be there.''
''True; but there are many other places they could sell you'', Legolas reminded him gravely; ''Lórinand would be one of them. Would you want to end up there as the love toy of Halldir and his brothers? Or even the Lady herself?''
Melpomaen paled considerably from the mere thought of that. The rumours about the favourite bondage games of Halldir, Rhimbron and Orfin(10), the march-wardens of Lórinand, were widely known in all Elven realms, and being on their mercy was considered little better than becoming imprisoned in Mordor itself. As for the Lady… well, even the rumours stopped in mute horror when it came to her.
Legolas smiled sadly and laid a comforting arm around the thin shoulders of his half-brother, which earned him a jealous glare from Gimli(11), but this one time he did not care.
''You have to be careful, little one'', he said. ''I hope the fury of your master shall calm down while our sister is gone with us, and you shall find your way into his good graces again. Right now he is the only one wh (who) can protect you – unless Gimli and I find a place where we can hide from prying eyes and live in peace.''
''You… you would let me dwell with you?'' Melpomaen stuttered in awe. ''But… but I am a mere slave, born in disgrace and…''
''You are my brother'', Legolas interrupted and kissed his brow, not caring for Gimli's angry growling; he would soften his Dwarf's tempers later, but he was all too aware of how he could have ended up just like Melpomaen, regardless of his royal birth. ''I wish I had known earlier that you were still here and had come for you. We shall see what can be done when the quest is over. But now'', he added, casting an envious look at Melpomaen's softly rounded belly, ''tell me about that ent-draught. Is it very hard to get your hands on some of it?''
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Then came that cold grey day in mid November that marked the time of their departure. The East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees, and making the fir-trees in the hills seethe. The hurrying clouds were low and sunless. As the cheerless shadows of the early evening began to fall, the companions of the Ring were ready to depart. Their farewells had all been said by the fire in the great hall, and they were waiting only for Gandalf and the Princess, who were still in the house, speaking some last words in private with Elrond.
Their spare food and other necessaries were laden on two sure-footed ponies. The travellers themselves were to go on foot, for their course was set through lands where there were few roads and paths were rough and difficult. Sooner or later they would have to cross the Mountains. Also they were going to journey for the most part by dusk or dark, just as Elrond had advised them to do.
Sam was standing by the two pack-ponies, sucking his teeth and staring moodily at the house – his desire for adventure was at low ebb. But in that hour none of the hobbits had any heart for their journey – a chill was coming in their hearts and a cold wind in their faces, and their hopes waned. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors; lights were glowing in many windows, and the world outside seemed empty and cold. Bilbo, huddled in his cloak, stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo. Trotter sat with his head bowed to his knees.
At last Elrond came out with Gandalf and the Princess, who was clad in the same fashion as Legolas himself, catching the eyes of Elves, Men and hobbits at once, due to her delicate beauty, even in the rough garb of the woodland folk. A great bow, challenging even for a strong Man, she was wearing across her back, and a quiver full of green-feathered arrows to that. Her hair was tightly braided with silver strings and wrapped around her head like a crown. No-one could take their eyes from her, not even Elrond himself, for she looked like the warrior Princesses of the Elder Days who fought alongside their husbands and brothers against the winged dragons(12).
''Farewell now,'' the Master of the House said. ''May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you. And may many white stars shine on your journey!'' And with that he stooped and kissed the pearly white brow of the Princess gently.
''Good… good luck!'' said Bilbo, stuttering a little (from the cold perhaps), while Merry and Pippin clung to Frodo, sobbing openly. ''I suppose you will not be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And do not be too long about it – I have lived longer than I expected already. Farewell!''
Frodo nodded wordlessly, embracing the old hobbit one last time, but his eyes were on the lovely Princess already, who had joined Gandalf to help him lead the company; then he turned away, to join Sam, who – to his great surprise – was exchanging whispering farewells with that Elven slave that had tried to poison the Princess not so long ago. His faithful Sam's sudden change of heart surprised Frodo a little… in fact, it angered him that someone like that could raise Sam's interest(13). But poor Sam was always so enthralled with Elves, he thought, 'tis good that we shall be on our ways. The hardships of the quest would bring him back to his usual, sober self.
Many others of Elrond's household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. There was no laughter, no songs or music. Silently at last they turned away, just as the Wandering Company faded back ever deeper among the trees, and leading their ponies, they vanished swiftly into the still, dark, grey dawn.
They crossed the bridge of Bruinen and wound slowly up the long, steep paths out of the cloven vale of Rivendell, and came at length to the high moors, grey and formless under misty stars. Then, with one last look down at the lights of the Last Homely House below they strode on, far into the night (14).
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End notes:
(1) The Goblin Gate from ''The Hobbit''. The weird geography still belongs to the Great Maker himself. Actually, most of the weird grammar, too.
(2) The River Gladden
(3) The Gladden Fields
(4) I know, this is a little out of order here. But I always found this line of the movie so bombastic that I cannot resist quoting it.evil grin
(5) Darn Tenth Walker. Not very original, I know, but somewhat suiting the situation. shrugs
(6) Which, once again, would be poor Elrond's line.sighs
(7) For he would naturally show it before a bunch of strangers, including the Dwarves!
(8) See? I might have added one more Walker to the Fellowship, but at least I found a perfectly good reason for it. Mathematically.
(9) We all know that Elves measure in sixes and twelves – even the week of the Calendar of Rivendell has six days only – but we cannot let ourselves be bothered by petty canon facts, now can we?
(10) Who, of course, are just the same lewd bunch as all Elves, but with an addictive tendency to incestuous BDSM-games. Their names are correctly spelled, BTW – at least according to ''The Treason of Isengard'' (HoME 7). We shall meet them later. I promise.
(11) For, as the Great Maker says in the appendices, Dwarves take only one wife or husband each in their lives, and are jealous as in all matters of their rights. Who cares that this was a comforting gesture for a disturbed younger brother only?
(12) Well, no, actually they did not. Not that Tolkien would say anything about that. But what's one more canon breach among fanfic addicts?
(13) For no-one else is entitled to occupy Sam's interest, right?
(14) This is the same passage – though from a different POV – that I used in my more serious AU, ''Seal On My Heart''. There were no other pieces from the HoME-books that would have suited this chapter. Sorry for the repetition.
