Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Nope, nada, never.  I love Tolkien for that.

A/N:  Apryl's fears are coming to pass.

Chapter 25

A FAILING PATH

            "Do you think he can do this, Gandalf," Elrond asked, facing the crackling flames of the fire in the Hall.  The day had dawned dismal, gray, and altogether not encouraging.  "It is an awful burden for one so small as he."

            "Yes," the wizard replied after a moment.  "A deadly burden it most certainly is," he mused, "but Frodo is surprisingly strong of will, even for one of his kind.  With a little help--and love, perhaps--I deem there is none other who will accomplish this."  Gandalf seemed reluctant to voice this, as if admitting a truth he had long held at bay.

            "I hope that you are right," Master Elrond said with a nod.  "But in any case he must not go alone."

            "No, certainly not!  I shall go with him at the very least."

            "I think that best," Elrond agreed, and then with a smile:  "And certainly young Gamgee is going."

            Gandalf nodded, slowly.  "Yes, I doubt very much we could separate the one from the other.  But this too I think is good, for where great wisdom oftime fails, friendship holds true to the path that must be taken."

            "Indeed," Elrond murmured.  After a time:

            "I shall speak with the representatives of the other Free Folk, for I deem some of them will aide in our cause."

            "And what of Morgainne, my friend," Gandalf wondered.  "She presented to you her plea and I am more than a little curious as to your dealing with it."

            "Ah, yes," Elrond said, as though recalling another pain.  "I know not, Gandalf," he admitted finally,  "Did you not warn me of the Book?"

            "I did."

            "If we take this business in a careless manner we could destroy any hope we ever had.  At one time, in one world, we of Middle-earth defeated the Shadow--"

            "But at what cost?" Gandalf wondered.

            Elrond waved it aside.  "It matters not, my friend.  That time and place was destroyed the moment the child returned to use.  If we are to defeat the Dark Lord we must not look ahead but concentrate upon the Here, the Now."

            "This is a critical time," the wizard seemed to agree.  "Though who is to say that this is not the will of Eru?"

            Minutes faded into nothingness as both elf lord and wizard were preoccupied with their own thoughts.  After a time, Lord Elrond saw fit to voice his.

            "Tell me, my friend," he said softly.  "The Valar are not given to emotions?"

            The wizard peered sharply at the elf.

            "And if they are not then certainly the Maiar, whom serve the Valar, cannot be controlled by such mortalish behavior."

            "You ridicule me, Master Elrond?" Gandalf asked stiffly.

            "Nay, Mithrandir, I do not ridicule one of the Maiar, but merely do I ask a question of one."

            "Why do you do so when already you know the answer."  Gandalf turned aside, his gaze falling to the flames and then beyond.  Silence followed for a time and as the elf was beginning to realize that perhaps he had gone too far, Gandalf spoke:

            "Yes, my friend, I have spent far too long among mortals, indeed even immortals, for are not the elves more human than they care admit?  But I got careless, for you of the elven kin can afford to be run by emotions alone whereas I of the Maiar cannot."  With a sigh, "Perhaps I made a mistake."

            "I swear to all that is both sacred and foul that if Master Elrond does not grant me this than I shall--I shall . . . do something he will regret!"

            "Do so then," Legolas said with a shrug.  His mind was clouded with his own thoughts and he hardly heard his friend's fuming, "He has no say in what the elves of Mirkwood care to do.  And if I don't mention this business to Father I'm sure he won't have a problem with it either."  He waved the matter aside. 

            Morgainne sat herself down with a groan.  "It is not that simple, my friend.  Master Elrond does have a say in what I do.  He has ever since I agreed with my 'assignment', for if Elrond doesn't think I should go Mithrandir certainly wouldn't oppose him.  They are good friends after all."  She sighed.  "I would though (oppose them, I mean), if I wasn't so frightened."

            Legolas jerked out of his reverie and glanced at her in surprise.  "Frightened?"  His voice was disbelieving and rightfully so.  "You?  My dear Lady of the Dark, I don't believe I have ever heard anything of the kind."

            Morgainne frowned in displeasure.  "Don't call me that," she snapped.  "And I am frightened, for the balance is so delicate that I dare not disturb it in the least.  What should become of us if I defied the rightful path merely because of my own fanciful whims."

            Legolas shook his head.  "What are we talking about?" he asked helplessly, suddenly wishing he had been listening.

            "I won't defy Master Elrond, I can't."  Morgainne ground her teeth in frustration.  "How I want to though!" she hissed.  "I'm such a wretched craven . . . but--but I can't chance it.  There is too much to lose and--though I love her with all my heart--not enough to gain."

            "And so you are going to leave us," Meriadoc said softly when Frodo told him of the Council. 

            "Yes," Frodo nodded, slowly.  "Master Elrond has of yet not set a date but I do not believe you shall be rid of us for a while."  He forced a shaky smile.

            "I needn't ask, but--well, Samwise is surely going with you?"

            This time the smile came easily and there was a fondness in his voice when he answered.  "No matter my persistence he will not be deterred.  I think that if I left in the night he would only follow me.  But, to be honest, I am glad he is coming.  I should be awful lonely with nought save Big Folk for company."

            "Who else is going?"

            "It has not been decided, but Gandalf I deem certainly, though the others I know not."

            Merry was quiet and his eyes fell to the elven bed not so very far away where Peregrin slept, if a bit fitfully.  Frodo followed his gaze and his heart ached at what he saw.

            "I should not have let him come," Frodo mourned.

            Merry managed a smile, though no merriment danced in his gaze.  His eyes glistened with grief.  "You could not have stopped him.  Nobody could have.  He is a stubborn lad, you know that Frodo."

            "Yes, but I would see that stubbornness show again, see my cousin laughing heartily, not lying ill in bed for who knows what reason!"  Frodo cursed bitterly.  "This is all my fault, Merry, and I don't care what anybody says.  I should have not let anyone come with me--not you, not Sam, not dear ol' Pip.  I've certainly made a mess of things."  With a ragged sigh he dropped his head into his hands.

            Merry rested a sympathetic hand on his cousin's shoulder.  He knew Frodo had only done all and more of what the elves and humans had asked of him.  If anyone should be to blame, Meriadoc was certain it should be him.  He was after all the one who had thought up the Conspiracy and, even though Pippin had been adamant to carry through with the plan when he himself began to have doubts, still he had let things get too out of hand.  Pip always has been a pain in the arse to deny.  One of these days it's likely to get him killed . . . if it hasn't already.

            "Don't worry about Pip, Frodo," Merry said finally, "I'll look after the lad when you leave.  I won't let ought happen to him, I swear by the Shire."  Merry wrapped his arms around his cousin.  "When you come home Pip will be as obnoxious as ever and then--and then this nightmare will perhaps be over."