Chapter 7

By Verbosity

Boromir guided his weary mount carefully along the winding path through the high moor. His awareness of the nearing goal of his search, for which he had set out from Minas Tirith long months ago, gave him new energy. The pre-dawn light filtered down through the gray mist that blanketed the rolling moors, and the heather whispered softly against his horse's legs as he coaxed the faithful animal forward. 

This past day he had come across a landmark, recognizable from the directions given to him by a solitary ranger a fortnight before. Seeing the marker, he had realized how close he was to the end of his journey and in his eagerness, had pushed on through the moonlit night to reach his goal.

Letting out a deep breath of weariness, he took his eyes from the path and glanced up at the slowly lightening sky, before the sudden stop of his horse brought his gaze back down. He saw the mists had thinned suddenly; the cause as obvious as the cliff abruptly terminating the land before his mounts hooves. Boromir looked out over the valley as the mist flowed in gray streamers down over the precipice, blanketing its floor in an impenetrable gray veil. The roar of falling water could be distantly heard from beneath the concealing grayness, and also somewhere beneath, were the ones he had come to find.

One hundred and ten days had passed since he had set out from Gondor. The dream that his brother, Faramir, and he himself, had experienced wore ever more heavily on his mind as the days had passed. In the dream the remote voice out of the west had spoken, "Seek for the sword that was broken: in Imladris it dwells…" Denethor, their father, had identified Imladris as a valley far to the north, a place where many of the greatest elven lore-masters yet remaining in Middle-Earth dwelt under the lordship of Elrond Half-Elven.

Though he had only dreamed the portent once, and his brother many times, he had argued fiercely for the chance to embark upon this journey. In the face of the need of his people Boromir hated inaction, but even more he hated the helplessness of knowing his people would fail. Even before the route at Osgiliath he had known that Gondor's battle against the power of Mordor was doomed. The strength of people of Gondor had waned from what it once was, and what remained, though mighty, was not enough. Their allies were also diminished; the elves were leaving Middle-Earth, and of the realms of men only Rohan would rally to their call.

When the dream had come he had at first dismissed it as a mere fantasy of his mind, but then his brother had come to him one night, disturbed by a dream he kept having. In the unraveling of this portent the brothers found a direction for hope. Though his brother had the dream often, and he only once, Boromir took upon himself the long journey northward, for perilous was the northern road, and of the brothers, Boromir was the better fighter. Yet this was not the sole reason he had set himself so firmly upon this path; he had felt a terrible helplessness and frustration in fighting the forces of Mordor, for it is hard to keep hope when you know, in your heart, that your struggles will come to naught. The dream had presented him with a course of action that would perhaps give some hope to the future he saw darkening the horizon, so he had seized upon it and poured his energy toward this new end, leaving Faramir to see to the defense of Gondor. He knew his brother to be far more patient than himself, and, he though, more suited to that task.  

And so Boromir had set out, taking the long lonely road northward, seeking the fabled valley. Now after nearly four moons, and many hard roads, he stood near to the end of his journey. 

Looking over the valley he had striven to find he felt anticipation and a sense of expectancy. The mist was thinning quickly now in the brightening morning and he craned his neck, looking for the path down into the dale the ranger had spoken of. Spying something a little farther along the ridge he turned his mount in that direction, and presently came to a trail winding downward.

The noise of falling water grew louder as he made his way along the narrow path, until it swelled into the sound of a great waterfall. The morning mist had mostly cleared and Boromir could see the autumn colors of the valley, muted in the gray morning, but he did not see the House of Elrond. Looking ahead, the curve of the path hid the waterfall from his sight, and also, he surmised, his destination.

Coaxing his mount along the way, he rounded the bend, and there before him was the House of Elrond. He caught his breath at the sight. The graceful forms and intricate latticework were only hinted, and not clear in the gray light, but enough was visible to give a vision of sylvan beauty. The many-winged house was quiet in the pale morning, a few faint lights glimmered in various windows, and the early morning mist softened the lines of the building, giving it an almost ethereal quality.

Boromir lowered his eyes from the house set upon the rise to the path leading up to it. A bridge spanned the cusp of the river and waterfall, and upon the bridge stood a woman.

For a second time his breath failed him, and his horse, in the sudden lack of guidance from his rider, plodded steadily forward as Boromir, unmindful, stared in wonder.

She stood midway upon the span, her face turned upward to the sky, as if communing silently with the vaulted heavens above. Her hair was a dark brown, falling down above her shoulders. She was dressed as if for a feast, the clothing was rich with the same colors of autumn as the trees of the valley; reds, browns, and here and there a hint of black and gold. The morning mist had beaded upon the cloth, shining in the growing light like small diamonds, and highlighting the exotic coloring of her skin. Her skin was a shade he had never seen upon any being before. It was not the yellow color of the people of Rhun, nor the brown and black of the Harad, but a very light bronze. The horse's forward motion brought him close enough to see her clear brown eyes, which, he suddenly realized, were now looking straight back at him.

He felt a flush of embarrassment as he became conscious of the fact that he had been staring at her for far too long to be polite, and had been so fascinated by her appearance that he had not noticed when she had lowered her gaze to him.

Was this strange, marvelous being one of the elves of this place? His gaze went to her ears.

"No," her voice cut over the sound of the water. "I'm not an elf."

He sat straight in startlement, a tug on the reins brought the horse to a halt a few lengths short of her. "Are you a reader of minds instead, Lady?" The question came out sharper than he had intended, as he felt suddenly off balance.

She did not seem to take any offence, just smiled a little and said, "No, it's just that where your eyes were going, it was the obvious question."

He felt a fresh burst of shame at her equanimity. Being this brusque to a Lady…he had been taught better. Swinging out of his saddle, he dropped to the ground and faced the woman, giving her a courtly bow. "I greet you lady, I am Boromir son of Denethor, of Gondor, and I apologize for my rudeness. The road has been long and weary, and your appearance was quite surprising to me."

  Her eyebrows rose a little. "Rude?" she seemed a little amused by the thought and shook her head. "If you think that was rude, I need to introduce you to a Calderan."

After a bemused pause, he spoke, "Your pardon Lady, but what is a…Calderan?"

"Never mind," she sighed. "I should have learned to stop doing that by now. I feel like Harper; no one understands half of what comes out of my mouth. Your apology is accepted." She turned toward the house and made a gesture toward it. "Come on, let's go get your horse and you a place to rest." She glanced back at him. "My name is Andromeda by the way."

*          *          *

            Poor guy, Andromeda thought, not without a touch of amusement. He seemed more baffled by me than anyone else I've met here.

            She had been mildly surprised to the man coming down the path toward her earlier. In such a low-tech culture it was uncommon to see someone traveling at night, and if a person did so, usually the reasons were urgent. A person with urgent business coming to Rivendell, at this time of all times, was something of a coincidence, and the last two years of her life had taught her that the things one thought were coincidence were often related to the matter at hand.

            She had been giving thought to Gandalf's plea, and though she did not know what was to happen at the council today she trusted his assessment matters. So while there was no formality to it, Andromeda had already accepted, for herself at least, that she would do anything she could to help.

            The noise of the waterfall had obscured the sound of the horse' hooves until just after it had rounded the turn in the path. She'd immediately scanned him when she realized he was there, and came up with all the readings of an ordinary human. After taking a moment to restart her appearance subroutines, she had brought her gaze down to look at him. He was tall, with light brown hair and blue-green eyes, and a full goatee that softened the angles of his chin. A round shield was slung at his back, while his sword hung from his hip. From the readings she had gotten from his metabolism, he was in excellent shape, of course so was everyone else she had met here, with the possible exception of a hobbit or two.

            He had thought his behavior was rude, a thought she still felt amusement at, he probably had the same type of upbringing Aragorn did. Sometimes the courtesy was pleasant, she had to admit, but at other times it was just annoying. The elves seemed not to discriminate between the sexes, but from her talks with various people, the same behavior did not prevail among humans. Andromeda had a feeling that the "curtsey" towards women was going to be a stumbling block in the future.

            Oh well, she thought. They'll just have to deal with it.  

            She had taken Boromir to the stables to get his mount settled in. On the way up to the house he had glanced at her a number of times, seemingly curious, but restraining it for the moment. There had been one other person in the stables when they arrived, a tall, dark haired, gray-eyed, elf who had turned out to be Elrohir, son of Elrond.

After they had been introduced Boromir had voiced a question that had concerned him, "I saw no guard on my way into the valley. The world grows dark, and if I had ill intent I could have worked great harm." He had gestured to Andromeda. "The Lady Andromeda was alone, and would have been terribly vulnerable had I wished to cause her hurt."

Elrohir had gravely replied, "You were sighted long before you reached the valley, Boromir of Gondor, and were watched carefully the whole while. You were not stopped because we had word of a lone traveler seeking Rivendell, from a ranger to the south, and if you were not greeted by the watchers, it is likely because Lady Andromeda was there to do it." His eyes, for a moment, had gone to Andromeda, who had stood with her arms folded over her chest and head cocked slightly to the side. "And if you had tried to harm her, you would have been quite…surprised by the result."

Boromir had glanced between the two, mystified.  

Elrohir had then looked back to him and shook his head. "We are not without defenses here, and the Enemy has not yet grown strong enough to penetrate them. I assume whatever matter you come upon is urgent, so please, let me take you to my father at once."

With a nod to Andromeda he had moved away, and with another courtly bow and a murmured "Lady" Boromir had followed.

Leaving the stables she had made her way back to her room, and now as she reached them and entered, her thoughts turned back to the project she had started yesterday.

Andromeda glanced at the books and maps on the table in the corner of the room. First though, to get out of this outfit, she thought, looking down at the clothes she had on. Moving into the adjoining bedroom she striped of the ornate clothes and replaced them into the elaborately carved dresser while removing a plainer, more utilitarian pair. Minutes later she seated herself at the desk and opened the language books of Sindarin and Quenya.

*          *          *

            The ringing of a bell brought her attention out of the tomes before her. Closing them, she continued to process the lingual patterns within, and rising to her feet and made her way out of the room and along the corridor. Gandalf had informed her last night of the meeting place for the council and had told her that it would be announced by the ringing of a bell.

            Passing into another hall she heard the murmur of voices ahead. Moving closer she began to discern words, Sindarin, she thought. With the knowledge she had absorbed from the books over the course of the morning she could decipher a good deal of the conversation. It was Aragorn and an elf, one Legolas, greeting one another.

            She stepped through the doorway into the room and found herself on a flat platform, open to the outside. Chairs were set in a circle round the circumference, while a pedestal graced the center.   

To her right stood Aragorn and the elf, Legolas, conversing in quiet voices as they waited for the others to arrive. As Andromeda entered, Aragorn, caching her eye, gestured for her to join them.

            "Andromeda, fair morning to you." He gazed at her speculatively for a moment. "I assume, due to your presence, that the council was the matter about which Gandalf wished to speak with you last night?"

            "You'd be correct," she gave a little sigh. "I've had a rather thoughtful night."

            "I am grateful that you have come," he said simply. "This is not your world, and there are many, who, in your position, would not involve themselves."

            "I've only been here a short time, but I've made friends." She looked him straight in the eyes, "I won't walk out on them."

            His face had a somewhat grave cast to it, but there was a smile in his eyes as he inclined his head to her, in an affirmation of friendship. He then turned partially back to the tall elf with the long golden hair that stood next to him and was watching Andromeda with open interest.

            "This is Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," Aragorn said, gesturing to him.

            "Greetings Lady Andromeda." Legolas's hair whispered slightly over his shoulders as he bowed lightly.

            "I greet thee Legolas, may Elebreth smile upon this meeting," Andromeda hailed him, shocking both men by the ancient greeting delivered in perfect Sindarin.

             Aragorn's brief look of surprise was replaced by a growing smile and he shook his head, "Ever surprising," he said.

            "That's part of the fun of life, Aragorn." Andromeda grinned at the two of them.  

            Aragorn opened his mouth to reply but stopped as he caught sight of Gandalf entering the council area. The wizard, sighting the three, stepped round the chairs and joined their group.

            "Aragorn," he greeted. "Legolas, Andromeda. The morning finds you well, I hope."

            There were confirmations voiced all round.

            "Quite well, Gandalf," Aragorn said. "Indeed, some of us appear to be having a most excellent morning." At the wizard's inquiring glance he continued, "Andromeda appears to have acquired yet another language-"

            Aragorn cut off as Andromeda said clearly in Quenya, "Two." Her eyes were cast upwards, with an innocent expression on her face.

            "Indeed, my apologies Lady," Aragorn gave a little mock bow in her direction, turned back to the wizard, and said distinctly, "Two."

            Legolas looked on at the interplay between the android and the man, a growing smile on his face. He had heard something of her speed, nature, and strength, but none had mentioned her sense of humor.

            Gandalf shook his head with a sigh, but there was a twinkle in his eye. After a moment he asked, "Between your thinking and studying did you manage to get any sleep at all last night?" 

            The three watched her suddenly pause, "Actually that's another difference between me and them," she said as she pointed to Aragorn. "I don't sleep."

            The wizard blinked once, then seemed to take it in stride.

            Aragorn eyebrows rose a little, but he didn't seem terribly perturbed. She supposed that after spending most of his life around elves, who rarely slept either, that this wouldn't bother him much.

Legolas asked, "Do you then walk in memory, as do my people?"

"No, I just don't need rest," she gave a little shrug. The council area was starting to fill now, most of the elves had arrived, Elrond and Erestor stood now near the far end of the room. She could see the dwarves approaching the council area along one of the outside paths, and Bilbo and Frodo had just entered through the door.

Andromeda smiled and nodded a greeting to Frodo across the room when she noticed another figure enter. The man, Boromir, she had meet earlier in the morning glanced around a little uncertainly at the unusual occupants of the room. His clothes were still the same worn, travel stained, ones he had worn on the arriving, so apparently he hadn't had time to rest or change yet.

Looking back to her companions she saw that Aragorn was looking at Boromir, an expression she couldn't identify in his eyes.

"Borimir, son of the steward of Gondor." Gandalf's murmured comment came from her side.

"The stewards that have ruled since the line of kings was broken?" Andromeda asked, as she took note of the way Aragorn shifted beside her.

  "Just so," the wizard said. "But that is a story for a different time. Now, we should take seats, for the council is about to begin."

 As the three men moved away to their seats Andromeda thought for a moment, and glancing once again at the uncertain Boromir, walked towards him.

Crossing the empty middle of the room her passive sensors picked up something just outside the council space, a flicker of something concealed in the bushes. Shifting her active sensor systems on she took a closer look. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Gandalf's sudden twitch and his head turned toward her. He looked at her a moment and then his eyes moved in the direction of her sensor probe, a little smile appeared on his face. Andromeda, too, had a sudden urge to smile as she recognized the two small beings hiding in the shrubbery.

Boromir's attention had been drawn by her straight course across the room to him, and as she approached, he executed a small bow. When he spoke, he seemed almost relieved to have someone familiar to greet.

"Lady."

"You seem a little lost. I thought you might like to see a face you had at least seen before."  

"Your company is most welcome. I must confess to a slight sense of being overwhelmed." He smiled a little ruefully. "It has been long since elves were seen in Gondor, and while there are stories, they do not prepare one for the reality."

Andromeda nodded, "They do tend to have that effect I've noticed; one moment they're stately and grand, the other, playing like children.

A soft crystalline note chimed out, cutting through the general buzz of conversing voices. All eyes were drawn to the head of the council area where Elrond stood and he gestured for all to take seats.

Boromir waited for Andromeda to sit, and she had the impression that if they had been sitting at a table he would have held the chair. She glanced at him as he sat, and then her attention was drawn forward again as Elrond began to speak.

            The afternoon light spilled through the autumn leaves of the tree above, casting a golden light on the council and the group of people standing in its center. Frodo had volunteered to take the ring, and one by one others had stepped forward to support him on this journey. Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, and Samwise all stood forward, and moments later two other hobbits had burst out of the underbrush to stand by their friend's side.

Merry and Pippin both stared determinedly up at Elrond as he looked back at them. Bursting out of the bushes into a secret council was apparently not the way to get on his good side.

Andromeda looked up from the two, and Gandalf caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Smiling, she nodded and decided to take a little of the pressure off the hobbits.

"You can count on my help as well, Frodo."

            Heads turned toward her, and the words drew a spontaneous exclamation from Boromir.

            "The journey will be no place for a Lady! We cannot afford to be slowed and we cannot protect you, the way will be fraught with danger." He glanced around, expecting to see support for his words mirrored in the faces 'round.

            There were varying expressions, but not the support he expected to see. The wizard had a small smile on his face, while Frodo seemed half-anxious half-hopeful. The dwarf, Gimli, had made a sound of acclimation in favor of Andromeda, while the elves had vying expressions of amusement at his words and appreciation for Andromeda.

            "You cannot mean to let her come," Boromir said as he realized they fully intended to allow her to do just that.

            "Boromir," Aragorn's calming voice turned the man's attention toward him. "Do not pass judgment so quickly, you do not yet know her."

            "The journey will be far too difficult and dangerous for a woman."

            Aragorn glanced at Andromeda, seeing her crossed arms and raised eyebrow in response to Boromir's statement, he asked, "Would you be so quick to dismiss an elf-woman?"

            Boromir seemed baffled by the question. "I think the journey inappropriate for any woman, but one of the elven race would be far more suited to the rigors of such a task. Yet I fail to see how that applies here, she is not an elf."

            "She is not of the race of man either, Boromir," Aragorn replied.

            "Not…" Boromir's head swung from Aragorn back to Andromeda, who merely looked back at him and gave a little shrug.

            "Her appearance is deceiving, man of Gondor," Gimli said. "She has already proven she can be a mighty ally on such a journey."

            "Indeed," Elrond spoke. "Before her arrival in Rivendell she defended the Ring-bearer from the Nazgul, the same black riders that routed the defenders of Osgiliath, and slew one of their number." 

            Boromir was half disbelieving as he looked up and down her slight frame. She did not appear at all capable of such a thing and yet if such as Lord Elrond said that it had happened…

            Andromeda gave a little shake of her head as she watched the expressions cross Boromir's face. "Men pay far to much attention to physical attributes: tall, short, fat, thin, ugly, beautiful, male, female. " Andromeda sighed, "Sometimes it makes me wish I had chosen a different appearance."

There was a spontaneous chuckle from the wizard, and amusement played over Gandalf's features, as he said, "I know precisely what you mean." The hobbits and dwarves looked at each other, mystified, as Andromeda and the old wizard shared a commiserating look.

Glancing around, Boromir noticed that the elves did not seem as baffled by this exchange as the others, while Aragorn just looked between the wizard and woman and shook his head in fond amusement.

"Well," Elrond raised his hands in a gesture encompassing the people before him. "It appears we now have our…Fellowship of the Ring."