( Author's Note: I apologize to those who were fans of this story which I abandoned for quite awhile. Real life, unfortunately, caught up with me and left my mind blank of any creativity ;) But now I'm back and I hope you enjoy the rest of thisstory. In this chapter the Council of Elrond finally arrives, along with someone Legolas had been desperate to see. I will not write out the entire council, as most of you probably know what happens already, and it would take way too much time. However I did take some quotes directly from the Master. Also in the books, the decision to have the 9 as we know them form the Fellowship does not happen until two months after the council, however I borrowed from the movie and had the decision be made then. Please review! Thank you and namárië. )
-=~**The Prodigal's Son**~=-
Chapter 13
In the early morning, the clear sound of a bell called those beings from distant lands together as one at the Council of Elrond. All of Rivendell seemed to awaken at once at the ringing of the bell. Birds began to chirp, gusts of wind carrying mist from the river Bruinen danced through the trees, and the scents of morning blossoms filled the air. Yet this sight of beauty was also a sight of paranoia, for in every movement of nature, Legolas Greenleaf sensed fear. It flowed through every leaf vein and flower petal, every bird's beak and squirrel's tail; and as he walked towards the porch where the council was to be held, he felt his body grow heavy with burden, for he was awake to all the senses and emotions of those around him, and none inspired song nor smile.
"It is no wonder Aragorn made sure I said my hello's to you before the Council."
It could not be! That voice, so familiar and clear!
Legolas turned and nearly gasped in surprise.
"Mithrandir!"
Had it not been for the formalities necessary at such a location, so near to the council porch, Legolas would have hugged Mithrandir in complete joy and relief. Gandalf smiled and tipped the brim of his wizard's hat to the Elven prince with a chuckle as he leaned on his staff.
"Yes indeed, it is I! Your eyes gleam with shock. Did you think I would not return?"
"Mithrandir! No Elven stanza could come to mind to describe my joy at seeing you before me here today. Aragorn brought troubling news with his arrival in Mirkwood…"
"Well now you see me here alive and well, Legolas. Aragorn was quite concerned about your well-being, worrying over an old man such as myself. But do not worry about me now!"
"Mithrandir, what happened to you? Where have you been?"
"There are greater matters at hand now, Lord Legolas. We will keep the smiles and cheer for another time."
Gandalf nodded and chuckled again as he pat Legolas shoulder and turned away. Legolas watched in wonder as the old wizard disappeared into the halls of Rivendell. It appears he had forgotten something important to the Council and now went to retrieve it. With a silent prayer of thanks to the Vala, Legolas turned and continued on his way to the porch.
The Elven Prince was once again dressed in green and brown garb, delicate braids keeping his fair hair away from his face. He was relieved to see a few familiar faces in the crowd, nothing compared to the feeling of joy at seeing Gandalf alive, however, and he took his seat quietly without introduction, and only a brief nod in greetings to the others. He was surprised to see Aragorn clad in his well-worn traveling clothes again; quite a contrast after the beautiful Elven threads he had worn the night before. There too sat Boromir, the man of Gondor whom Legolas had not been very fond of since their first meeting. Again the man was lost in a deep and troubled trance. Legolas could only wonder what went through his mind at that moment, and as he regarded the Gondorian with his fair gaze, he knew Boromir would rather run barefoot over hot coals than reveal his sentiments to an Elf.
Also at the Council were representatives from the dwarf worlds, much to his chagrin. Legolas assumed the younger dwarf seated at the side of Gloin was his son.
Wonderful. Lord Elrond, in all his wisdom, has brought together Elves, Dwarves and Men so caught up in their own troubles that neither party will coexist at this council without some childish quarrel.
With a sigh, Legolas turned his shining eyes towards the child-sized, gray haired hobbit also seated there.
Bilbo Baggins! So at last he found his peace here in Rivendell, it has been quite some time since a Hobbit has crossed my path.
Legolas bowed his head in slight shame. He knew the Halfling's experience in his father Thranduil's hall long ago was not the best of times for the Shire creature, and for a moment Legolas was reminded of the dark time he had spent in Mirkwood shortly before leaving to Rivendell. Aragorn caught the look on his elven friend's face and gave him a reassuring nod. Despite the Ranger's gesture, Legolas could not calm the ill feelings inside.
Lord Elrond arose from his throne and folded his hands at his waist. Fine robes of the purest weave fell to the Elf Lord's feet, glimmering off the rays of morning sun. His dark hair was held back by a circlet wrought of mithril pieces finely intertwined like tendrils of ivy. He was truly a sight to behold, an Elf lord of great wisdom, who had seen and lived through the darkest times Middle Earth had yet seen. Just as the wise elf opened his hands in greeting, Gandalf re-appeared, gently urging yet another Halfling along.
Elrond smiled and welcomed Gandalf and the hobbit, raising his hands to the Council.
"Here, my friends, is the hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo. Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent."
-=-
And so the Council began, lasting hour after hour as the sun made it's way across the sky towards it's resting place in the horizon. Legolas regarded all those who spoke with respect, even the dwarf lords, for he knew Rivendell was no place for quarrel brought on by past history. Each representative had his own sad tale, and Legolas heard all with sympathy.
He was greatly angered to hear what had happened to Gandalf, and the treatment his beloved Mithrandir received at the hands of the White Wizard Saruman. Rage boiled inside of him, his fingers itching to grab his bow and march into Orthanc himself. Yet no one would know the feelings of the Elf, as his features were ever calm, with his pale skin and glowing eyes alight.
Legolas was surprised to hear the dwarves' tale of a dark messenger searching for hobbits. At the mention of this, both Gandalf and the halfing known as Frodo shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. One by one the councilmen took their spot in the center of the porch to tell their tale as Lord Elrond regarded them with as much respect and attention as he could. Legolas noted the light in the Elf Lord's eyes dimming as the subject matter of each speaker's tale grew darker and more fearful.
The interaction between Aragorn and Boromir made Legolas sit up straighter in his seat, gripping the arms of the fine elven chair. Tension radiated from the burning gray eyes of the Ranger and the Gondorian, and it was then that Legolas realized just how troubled Boromir truly was.
At Aragorn's tale, Legolas unfortunately had to reveal the fate of Gollum and the Mirkwood elves. He told his story with a mournful voice, his head bowed and eyes closed. He felt shame that Mirkwood could not stop Gollum's escape, and he remembered the many lives lost the day of that fateful attack. Yet there was one piece of news yet to be spoken of, and it just so happened to be the worst of all.
Then it was revealed, and all those who sat before it gazed in wonder and silence, their breath stolen away by the smallest of things that carried the greatest of perils. There, before the eyes of all those present at the council, the Ring of Power had been placed on a pedestal, and at once all grew silent.
The One Ring has been found. Isildur's Bane, the master of the Rings of Power. Look how it gleams in the light with false beauty. It is bait for the weak willed, a trap for the hungriest of rats…yet even I cannot resist to look upon it. Even I cannot resist to reach for it and feel the cool metal at my finger tips.
They all stare in wonder and desire. Boromir argues endlessly for Gondor; of their strength and their valor. Yet I do not doubt there are many in Minas Tirith who would take this ring in hopes to save their failing land…Boromir and his father, the Steward Denethor, included.
Even Aragorn cannot keep his eyes away from it. I hear in the wind, dark voices calling to the Ranger, as if the Ring itself brought foul voices to the sanctuary of Imladris in hopes to corrupt its beauty. What wisdom will Lord Elrond bring us now, that will save us from the fate this bauble will certainly bring us?
-=-
Later that night, after the Council had ended, and the decision to destroy the ring was made, Legolas had wandered into the gardens of Rivendell and taken a seat on smooth rock near a pond. He stared at his glowing reflection in the pond's crystal waters. Beneath the surface, small fish swam about, blissfully unaware of the events of the day. Legolas closed his eyes and sighed, for a moment wishing he too, had that peace.
He stood and drew the hood of his cloak over his fair hair, wandering slowly through the gardens in what he knew would be his last night of peace. At the council, it was decided that nine travelers would make the journey to Mordor to assist Frodo, the ringbearer, in his task to destroy the ring of Power. It was nine travelers to match the nine black riders of the Dark Lord Sauron, which Legolas knew would not be the fiercest enemies they were to face. Together, Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Gandalf, Gimli son of Gloin, Frodo and his hobbit companions Sam, Merry and Pippin, would form the Fellowship of the Ring. They would depart tomorrow on a journey that may possibly be their ends.
Legolas turned his face towards the pale moon and began to sing. His song was beautiful yet full of sorrow, and as he wandered through the garden path's it seemed all of nature turned to listen to his voice, fallen blossom petals and fireflys drifting behind him in a procession of farewells.
-=-
"What is that?"
At once Boromir rose to his feet and drew his sword, holding it at guard with one hand as his other fell upon the horn of Gondor. His gray eyes narrowed as he turned about, peering through the trees and even turning to the sky in hopes to discover the source of the sound.
Aragorn, Ranger of the North, blood of the Dunedain, turned away from his pipe and towards Boromir.
"Legolas is singing, and all of mother nature joins him."
Boromir let go of the horn and brought his sword down to his side. The Captain of Gondor turned an ear towards the beautiful Elven voice.
"I have never heard such sounds. They are wonderous and beautiful…yet at the same time they cause fear in my heart."
"Seeing, or hearing an Elf for the first time can cause such emotions. Yet no danger will come to us here in Imladris, and Legolas will not be a danger to you. He is deadly with his bow and Elven knives, but he has sworn allegiance to the Nine and Lord Elrond, and that oath he would never break."
"Such words mean to calm me, but I cannot push away these feelings of fear and doubt. About the Elves, about Dwarves and Hobbits…about everything."
Boromir sheathed his sword and turned away, bringing a hand to his pale forehead. Aragorn puffed on his pipe again, then decided to finish it off. He carefully packed it away and rose from his seated position on the ground, following Boromir.
"You must open your mind and trust us, Boromir. You only fear these races because of them you do not know. The capability to do evil lies in every race, even the Elven race…for I have seen it, but the actions of one cannot possibly serve as a judgement for all."
Boromir sighed slightly, running a hand through his black hair.
"You sound like my little brother. Faramir always buried his nose in his books, losing his mind in the world of Elves and tales of glory and love. While he studied away and learned the arts, I was battling for Minas Tirith, losing my blood…my countrymen. Yet I feel no ill or hatred towards him, Aragorn. In a way, I envy Faramir. He is safe from the darkness that befalls Gondor in these times, for Father does not put the trust in him he puts in me."
"I am sure this saddens Faramir. Do you not believe so?"
"I know so, believe me I do. Yet despite what Father says, I know he loves us both, for we are all that is left to remind us of our beloved mother…Finduilas. After her death…Father was never the same."
Aragorn frowned slightly as Boromir's eyes grew distant. He had not realized that Boromir and him shared the common trait of having lost their mothers at an early age. For the first time in awhile, he let himself remember the grief he felt.
Quick to throw away any hints of weakness he may have, Boromir's face grew strong once more.
"Nonetheless I am Captain of Gondor and must serve my Lord Steward no matter what. Faramir's time will come as it comes for us all, but for now, I take comfort in the fact my brother is safe from this…Ring of Power. I am glad I took the journey to Rivendell in his stead…for I fear his kind heart and mind of peace would blind him from the troubles at hand."
"Denethor will realize the qualities of both his sons one day, Boromir."
"The Steward realizes only what he wants to, Aragorn, even if it has always been right in front of him."
He turned away and picked up his heavy shield, slinging it onto his back as he prepared to head for his quarters to gather his belongings for the departure from Rivendell. Aragorn crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. He too had to pack his belongings, and had his goodbyes to say.