Disclaimer:  This story is non-profit and written for purely entertainment purposes.  All recognized characters and places are property of Tolkien Estates and New Line Cinema.  I own nothing but my name.

A/N: Originally this chapter was much longer, but I've decided to split it into separate parts (cleverly entitled: Part I and Part II.  Ooooh.  The originality of it all is killing me).  

Amazing!  Thank you for the 3 lovely reviews!!!  :)   

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~ Chapter 2:  THIS is the Fate of Middle-earth?  Part I ~

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"You were correct, Lord Elrond.  Frodo has indeed chosen to carry the Ring."

Unsurprised, Elrond drew is attention away from the land below and turned to acknowledge the speaker.  "Ah, Mithrandir.  I was wondering when you would seek me out."  The Elf lord spoke quietly as he leaned against the balcony railing.  "I am sorry to see the young hobbit so burdened, yet there is nothing we may do to ease this, save offer him the aid and protection of the Fellowship.  You know this as well as I do."

Gandalf walked up to the balcony ledge and placed one hand on the railing.  Closing his eyes, he gripped his staff tightly and inhaled deeply.  Elrond turned outward towards the land as well, and the two stood for a time, shoulder-to-shoulder in contemplative silence.

The wizard's light chuckle caused Elrond to cock his head and regard his companion curiously.  "We speak of the fall of Middle-earth," he stated with raised eyebrows, "and yet the wise Mithrandir laughs as though the journey he is about to partake upon is a mere frolic through the trees?  Forgive me, but I seemed to have missed the apparent humor of the situation."

Gandalf opened his eyes and continued to chuckle.  "No, no, my old friend.  It is I who must be forgiven.  I was just imagining the look that crossed Glóin's face when young Legolas was introduced to Council."

The usually stoic face of the elf lord threatened to break.  "Indeed. . .  I had not realized that Dwarves were capable of. . .  squeaking."

Looming danger momentarily forgotten, the wizard and Elf lord broke out into hearty laughter.  "Still, I must speak with Glóin," said Elrond when they had regained composure.  "I would not have him placing any more prejudices in the head of his son than he already has.  Elves and Dwarves do not see eye to eye as it is, and the history between Glóin and Thranduil will only serve to make things more difficult for Legolas and Gimli.  I fear any advice imparted to Gimli from his father may only reinforce this."

"Have you yet to inform Thranduil of his son's errand?" asked Gandalf as the two exited the balcony and entered the library of the Homely House.

"The rest of the Mirkwood party will depart this morning.  I expect it will take several weeks before they reach the kingdom."

"Mmmm," murmured Gandalf thoughtfully as the two departed from the library.  "Or perhaps I should have asked: have you informed Thranduil of his son's traveling companions?"

Elrond grimaced as he gracefully closed the library doors behind him.  "You know very well of his thoughts on Legolas' friendship with Aragorn.  While Thranduil recognizes Aragorn's legitimacy, he is still rather displeased by his son's loyalty to a mortal—particularly one from the line of Isildur.  And I dare say he views you as a rather poor influence as well.  It goes against my better judgment to inform him that Legolas is not only traveling with the two of you, but Gimli son of Glóin of the Lonely Mountain, among others."

Gandalf stopped abruptly.  "I, a poor influence?"  The wizard snorted indignantly.  "Why, that is the most utterly ridiculous—"

"Mithrandir," interrupted Elrond dryly, for he had not missed the twinkle in the wizard's eye, "You are notorious for your dalliances in others' affairs.  Need I remind you of one Bilbo Baggins?  After your instigation of that incident, it is no wonder Thranduil is so wary of you."

"Notorious, indeed!"  The wizard sniffed in mock righteousness.  "And as for instigating, my ancient friend, wizards do not instigate.  We simply offer priceless guidance to those who have lost their way."

Had the two still been in the library, Elrond would have found great difficulty in restraining his desire to throw a large book at the irrepressible wizard's head.  Luckily for Gandalf, the library was some distance behind them now, and there were no other heavy (and possibly quite painful) objects within the Elf lord's reach.

"Come," Elrond sighed in exasperation, "let us depart.  You have a frightened hobbit to console and I must speak with an irate Dwarf."

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