Disclaimer: I still don't own LOTR or any of its characters. I hope you all like Chapter 3.
Chapter 3:
All Have Assembled
After the new arrivals were given time to rest and sup, they were all called to meet with Elrond, Gandalf, and Galadriel. Carole was sent for as well, and arrived as Thoron was beginning the story of how he and his company had come to Valinor.
"I grew up safe within the walls of Minas Tirith. My father was a Guardian of the Citadel, and my mother a weaver. I had one older brother who wanted to follow in our father's footsteps. I, however, was ever inquisitive, and had a great love of learning. Our city's Hall of Records has ever been open to all who wish to learn of oour peoples' history, so every chance I got, I would go and study the old scrolls and books. I spent hours pouring over the accounts of Kings and Stewards past. My favorite writings were of the Elves and Halflings. They fascinated me in a way that neither sword fighting nor weaving cloth ever did. I had never seen Elves as a child, but all my life, every year, when our country celebrated the destruction of The One Ring, Halflings would come to our city, and visit the tombs of King Elessar and two of his most loyal comrades. I looked forward to seeing them and speaking with them all year long.
"When I had reached my fifteenth year, I read from the famous Red Book Of Westmarch. After I read from the Red Book, I grew restless. I longed to see what was outside the city walls. I wanted to see the old Elvin realms of Lorien and Riven dale; I wanted to see the green lads of the North. I wanted an Adventure! This longing grew quietly in me for fifteen more years, for my parents told me that once I was grown and had a life of my own, my childish dreams and wishes would be meaningless. In time I became a tailor and weaver, and started to build up for my life. But five months ago, I felt the call to journey once more. A call far stronger than the last time. So I prepared. I sold all my fine cloths, my needles and threads, even my loom, and kept only my own clothes, four month's worth of food, and my own copies of some of our better-known folk tales. Then, I set off on my horse for the northwest, to go to Westmarch. But, within days of starting my journey, I felt as though I were being drawn North to Rohan, and within a fortnight, I found myself almost at the gates of Edoras, where I met Loreran* and Lorawen*."
As Thoron sat, Homer stood and took up the tale. "Before we began our journey, my sister and I were nothing but the children of farmers. As children we would meet with our friends and pretend to be Rohirrim soldiers riding into battles or slaying dragons and goblins. As the years passed, while our old friends grew and found content in living as their forefathers before had lived, tilling land and growing crops, I grew restless. I wanted to live the stories I had heard all my life. I even went to the great hall of Meduseld seeking to become one of the standing gaurds, but they turned me away, saying that if ever the King should need me, or any of his people, to ride, and then we would hear the call. But I was not satisfied."
"And neither was I," said Hope. "I have always been like my brother. I loved the old stories that had been passed down to us for generations. My favorite amoung them being about the Shieldmaiden, Princess Eowyn. I always wanted to be as brave and courageous as she was in the stories, but the life that I had, that I was being prepared for, never gave me that chance."
"We felt caged," Homer continued, "Until one day, while I was plowing the field and my sister was sowing seed, I looked up to the mountains in the West, and I felt like I was being harkened to them. I turned to my sister, and saw that she had felt it, too. She dropped her seed, and I my plow, and we gathered food, clothes, and the armor our uncle had given us for our younger brother, and we left our home. When we passed through the gates, we met Thoron, and with no more than a brief introduction, we set out together West."
"We journeyed across th Gap of Rohan for two months," Hope said, "until we turned North, near the roots of the Misty Mountains. After a fortnight, we came to a valley filled with many beautiful houses. We went to the largest of these, and were greeted by Elves, and were told that we had reached the fabled Rivendale. We stayed with them as guests for five days, until another group of travelers came. We were introduced to these honorable Dwarves, and we set out with the Elves to the west."
When Hope sat down, one of the Dwarves stood to take up in his company's part of the tale. Carole had not heard all the names of the Dwarves who had come on the ship, but she did remember that this one was called Tor. He was stout, with a thick black beard, and with a booming voice began.
"Like these three before me have said, I was not always satisfied with my life. Like my forebares before me, I mined the great caverns of the Lonely Mountain for jewels and riches, but my heart did not lie in rock, but in the volumes of books of fables. I, of course, was not alone, but for a long count of years there was nothing that, we believed, could be done to change that. Then on morning, I felt a great urge to go to across the River Running. I packed what I needed and set out, only to find that I was being followed by four of my kinsmen. We rode to Dale, obtained a boat, and went across the river. From there on, we journeyed through the forest Greenwood (once called Mirkwood) and over the mountains to Rivendale, where we met our new human companions, and then formed a great caravan with them and the Elves, going west by The Great East Road, into the lands known by us as The Green Lands. We stayed with them, passing through Bree and the Shire, untill we came to the Westerns Shores."
"And what did you do when you saw that the Elves where leaving Middle Earth?" asked Elrond.
"We went with them, of course," replied Tor, "How else would we be standing here?"
"Why did you not simply return to your homes? You're journey was over, was it not?" Elrond inquired.
"We knew we had to come with them," said Thoron, standing, "Though we didn't understand, and still don't, we knew we had to go with them."
"And what did the Elves whom you journeyed with say?" Gandalf asked, with a laugh in his voice.
"Nothing," Thoron replied, "They let us come."
"Indeed," the old wizard said softly, looking at the travelers with marked interest.
"When did you set sail?" asked Elrond.
"Yesterday morning at first light," replied Thoron.
"But that's impossible!" Carole exclaimed, "I arrived here two days ago, I would have seen or heard of your company before then."
"You must understand, Carole Greenwood of the Shire," Elrond said, "that time here is nothing like that of the Mortal Lands. For each hour you spend on these shores, one day passes elsewhere. Over two months have gone by in your world."
Carole was so shocked at this that she couldn't even blink. Without a word, she sat down again, not only feeling foolish, but very out of sorts. Two months?! How could she have lost two months in just three days? She felt very odd, and no longer heard much of what was said at the meeting. She could only think that by now the farmers in her old village would have begun harvesting their grains and vegetables. It would be September now, and her family and friends would be preparing for fall and winter. She now felt a sense of loss and sadness as she began to understand what coming here really meant. She may never see the Shire or those she loved again. Before her thoughts continued on, she heard and saw everyone stand, and quickly stood up, too. Then, Lord Elrond spreading his arms out said, "Now that all have assembled, we shall meet tomorrow with all from the Seven Houses of the Elves, and everything shall be made known." With that, the meeting adjourned.
As Carole was leaving, the girl named Hope came up to her quickly, and said, "I'm sorry - Carole, right? - but ever since we landed, I've wanted to talk to you. You're the only other person here who seems to be close to my age and isn't so beautiful that they're intimidating."
Carole suddenly realized that Hope was her age; and maybe someone she could talk more openly to. Maybe this girl was feeling the same way she did, though Hope did have her brother with her. She smiled, feeling less alone than before, and said, "It's alright. The truth is I thought the same thing!"
"And I, as well," said a loud voice behind them. The girls turned around and saw the Dwarf-woman coming up to them. "I am called Gem," she said to them, "Tor's youngest cousin, though I am near thirty-eight. You don't mind if I join you?" The two younger girls shook their heads, and all three ladies laughed and walked together, not with any real destination in their minds, but strolling as they talked. They were all indeed very much alike. They, of course, shared a love of books and stories, but their families and experiences and histories were so similar that, after only an hour of talking, that she had grown up with Hope and Gem; and the other two thought the same of the young Hobbit. In that moment they became became the best of friends, trusting each other in everything.
In the Halls of the Eldar, there was a great pantheon; and gathered there in were the Seven Houses of the Elves. From her seat at the bottom, near the center of the coliseum, Carole saw every House; every being that lived on the island. One large group of Elves caught her eye. Though all other Elves had either fair hair or black, everyone in this large section had red hair; hair as bright as flames. She would have stuck out like a sore thumb if were not for Hope and Gem, who sat to her left. As Elrond began to make his way to the center platform, Gandalf, with Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo, came walking in, and sat down, with Frodo having to sit beside Carole.
Elrond, then, stood in the very center. Looking out around the peoples gathered together, he stood straight, and began to speak with a loud, clear voice, "My friends…we are but a Dream."
At this announcement, the crowd broke out in shock, asking, "What does he mean?" "We are a Dream?!" "Has Elrond gone mad?" "What is the meaning of this?"
"Friends, please," Elrond shouted above the roar of the crowd, "Silence!" The assembly hushed, and the High Elf continued, "Do not think that I am mad, I know of what I speak. The Valar has told me, and all of the Council of the Wise, that long ago, Men began to dream. They dreamed of a land where war and illness and pain do not exist; where none go hungry, and all live in peace; where people with great power and creatures that heal with magic dwell, safe from the outside world. That land is our land. Valinor. We are the Dreams of the humble and pure of heart. The Dreams of such as these," he said, pointing to Carole and the eight travelers. "They were called here, from each race of Middle Earth, for a purpose. Step forward, Dreamers."
Carole and the other eight 'Dreamers' got up and approached the platform, standing before Elrond, who was then joined by Galadriel and Gandalf. Then Gandalf said, "Let the Ring Bearers and those who remain of the Fellowship come forth," and they were joined by Frodo, Sam, Bilbo, Legolas, and Gimli. Then, Elrond said to Ring Bearers, "You also have a purpose, old friends. Once you wrote the account of the War of the Ring, and all the events before and after. Now, if you will, you must help us keep the Dreams of Men alive."
"As you all know," Galadriel said now, "many of our people have begun to fall under a strange illness, and some have died, though our kind has ever done so before. It is because Men in Middle Earth are beginning to forget about us, about their Dreams."
"But there is hope," Gandalf said, "For we have discovered lands further to the West, and to the South, And the North, across the sea. In these lands, more Men dwell, Men who have never heard of Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, or Wizards. It is to these lands that you must go," he said now to the Dreamers, "With the tales of your races, and of the Elves'. You three must write these stories," He said to the Ring Bearers, "and you two must guide them" he said to Legolas and Gimli, "and collect from every House their tales and history."
"Gandalf shall help you, telling you anything that others cannot," Elrond said.
"This is madness!" a voice cried from the throng. Carole looked and saw a tall Elf, with hair like red flame and gray eyes that burned with anger. "The Elves have always been. We came before all others. Do you expect us to believe that we products of the imaginations of Men?"
"Culachquen," Elrond said to him, "The Valar themselves have told us this. Do you question them?"
"I do, and I protest against having these mortals here on our land. They do not belong. They have never belong, especially not Dwarves or Men! Make them leave at once and give us peace again." At his words, all amber haired Elves began to cry out, "He is right!" "Culachquen knows best." "Make them leave!" "Listen to him, he carries wisdom!"
"Silence!" Elrond yelled, "I give you the choice, anyone who agrees with Culachquen may leave now, and leave us to this endeavor. All who stay agrees to aid us. If you wish to leave, do so now."
Before Elrond had finished, Culachquen and his house left the pantheon. All others sat in awe and disbelief of what had just happened, but stayed, for they had always trusted the Wise and the Valar.
When all had quieted, Elrond continued, "Friends, by the power given to us by the Valar, we christen you nine as The Fellowship of Dreams. May the blessings of all Dreams and Dreamers go with you." With that, the council ended, and the new Fellowship began their quest.
I know it's short, forgive me, but I had to get to one of the main points before yall fell asleep. Please click the pretty button on the left. Thank you peoples! *the Elvish nick names for Homer and Hope, they mean golden wanderer and golden maiden, but from now on, they'll be called by their Rohan names
Chapter 3:
All Have Assembled
After the new arrivals were given time to rest and sup, they were all called to meet with Elrond, Gandalf, and Galadriel. Carole was sent for as well, and arrived as Thoron was beginning the story of how he and his company had come to Valinor.
"I grew up safe within the walls of Minas Tirith. My father was a Guardian of the Citadel, and my mother a weaver. I had one older brother who wanted to follow in our father's footsteps. I, however, was ever inquisitive, and had a great love of learning. Our city's Hall of Records has ever been open to all who wish to learn of oour peoples' history, so every chance I got, I would go and study the old scrolls and books. I spent hours pouring over the accounts of Kings and Stewards past. My favorite writings were of the Elves and Halflings. They fascinated me in a way that neither sword fighting nor weaving cloth ever did. I had never seen Elves as a child, but all my life, every year, when our country celebrated the destruction of The One Ring, Halflings would come to our city, and visit the tombs of King Elessar and two of his most loyal comrades. I looked forward to seeing them and speaking with them all year long.
"When I had reached my fifteenth year, I read from the famous Red Book Of Westmarch. After I read from the Red Book, I grew restless. I longed to see what was outside the city walls. I wanted to see the old Elvin realms of Lorien and Riven dale; I wanted to see the green lads of the North. I wanted an Adventure! This longing grew quietly in me for fifteen more years, for my parents told me that once I was grown and had a life of my own, my childish dreams and wishes would be meaningless. In time I became a tailor and weaver, and started to build up for my life. But five months ago, I felt the call to journey once more. A call far stronger than the last time. So I prepared. I sold all my fine cloths, my needles and threads, even my loom, and kept only my own clothes, four month's worth of food, and my own copies of some of our better-known folk tales. Then, I set off on my horse for the northwest, to go to Westmarch. But, within days of starting my journey, I felt as though I were being drawn North to Rohan, and within a fortnight, I found myself almost at the gates of Edoras, where I met Loreran* and Lorawen*."
As Thoron sat, Homer stood and took up the tale. "Before we began our journey, my sister and I were nothing but the children of farmers. As children we would meet with our friends and pretend to be Rohirrim soldiers riding into battles or slaying dragons and goblins. As the years passed, while our old friends grew and found content in living as their forefathers before had lived, tilling land and growing crops, I grew restless. I wanted to live the stories I had heard all my life. I even went to the great hall of Meduseld seeking to become one of the standing gaurds, but they turned me away, saying that if ever the King should need me, or any of his people, to ride, and then we would hear the call. But I was not satisfied."
"And neither was I," said Hope. "I have always been like my brother. I loved the old stories that had been passed down to us for generations. My favorite amoung them being about the Shieldmaiden, Princess Eowyn. I always wanted to be as brave and courageous as she was in the stories, but the life that I had, that I was being prepared for, never gave me that chance."
"We felt caged," Homer continued, "Until one day, while I was plowing the field and my sister was sowing seed, I looked up to the mountains in the West, and I felt like I was being harkened to them. I turned to my sister, and saw that she had felt it, too. She dropped her seed, and I my plow, and we gathered food, clothes, and the armor our uncle had given us for our younger brother, and we left our home. When we passed through the gates, we met Thoron, and with no more than a brief introduction, we set out together West."
"We journeyed across th Gap of Rohan for two months," Hope said, "until we turned North, near the roots of the Misty Mountains. After a fortnight, we came to a valley filled with many beautiful houses. We went to the largest of these, and were greeted by Elves, and were told that we had reached the fabled Rivendale. We stayed with them as guests for five days, until another group of travelers came. We were introduced to these honorable Dwarves, and we set out with the Elves to the west."
When Hope sat down, one of the Dwarves stood to take up in his company's part of the tale. Carole had not heard all the names of the Dwarves who had come on the ship, but she did remember that this one was called Tor. He was stout, with a thick black beard, and with a booming voice began.
"Like these three before me have said, I was not always satisfied with my life. Like my forebares before me, I mined the great caverns of the Lonely Mountain for jewels and riches, but my heart did not lie in rock, but in the volumes of books of fables. I, of course, was not alone, but for a long count of years there was nothing that, we believed, could be done to change that. Then on morning, I felt a great urge to go to across the River Running. I packed what I needed and set out, only to find that I was being followed by four of my kinsmen. We rode to Dale, obtained a boat, and went across the river. From there on, we journeyed through the forest Greenwood (once called Mirkwood) and over the mountains to Rivendale, where we met our new human companions, and then formed a great caravan with them and the Elves, going west by The Great East Road, into the lands known by us as The Green Lands. We stayed with them, passing through Bree and the Shire, untill we came to the Westerns Shores."
"And what did you do when you saw that the Elves where leaving Middle Earth?" asked Elrond.
"We went with them, of course," replied Tor, "How else would we be standing here?"
"Why did you not simply return to your homes? You're journey was over, was it not?" Elrond inquired.
"We knew we had to come with them," said Thoron, standing, "Though we didn't understand, and still don't, we knew we had to go with them."
"And what did the Elves whom you journeyed with say?" Gandalf asked, with a laugh in his voice.
"Nothing," Thoron replied, "They let us come."
"Indeed," the old wizard said softly, looking at the travelers with marked interest.
"When did you set sail?" asked Elrond.
"Yesterday morning at first light," replied Thoron.
"But that's impossible!" Carole exclaimed, "I arrived here two days ago, I would have seen or heard of your company before then."
"You must understand, Carole Greenwood of the Shire," Elrond said, "that time here is nothing like that of the Mortal Lands. For each hour you spend on these shores, one day passes elsewhere. Over two months have gone by in your world."
Carole was so shocked at this that she couldn't even blink. Without a word, she sat down again, not only feeling foolish, but very out of sorts. Two months?! How could she have lost two months in just three days? She felt very odd, and no longer heard much of what was said at the meeting. She could only think that by now the farmers in her old village would have begun harvesting their grains and vegetables. It would be September now, and her family and friends would be preparing for fall and winter. She now felt a sense of loss and sadness as she began to understand what coming here really meant. She may never see the Shire or those she loved again. Before her thoughts continued on, she heard and saw everyone stand, and quickly stood up, too. Then, Lord Elrond spreading his arms out said, "Now that all have assembled, we shall meet tomorrow with all from the Seven Houses of the Elves, and everything shall be made known." With that, the meeting adjourned.
As Carole was leaving, the girl named Hope came up to her quickly, and said, "I'm sorry - Carole, right? - but ever since we landed, I've wanted to talk to you. You're the only other person here who seems to be close to my age and isn't so beautiful that they're intimidating."
Carole suddenly realized that Hope was her age; and maybe someone she could talk more openly to. Maybe this girl was feeling the same way she did, though Hope did have her brother with her. She smiled, feeling less alone than before, and said, "It's alright. The truth is I thought the same thing!"
"And I, as well," said a loud voice behind them. The girls turned around and saw the Dwarf-woman coming up to them. "I am called Gem," she said to them, "Tor's youngest cousin, though I am near thirty-eight. You don't mind if I join you?" The two younger girls shook their heads, and all three ladies laughed and walked together, not with any real destination in their minds, but strolling as they talked. They were all indeed very much alike. They, of course, shared a love of books and stories, but their families and experiences and histories were so similar that, after only an hour of talking, that she had grown up with Hope and Gem; and the other two thought the same of the young Hobbit. In that moment they became became the best of friends, trusting each other in everything.
In the Halls of the Eldar, there was a great pantheon; and gathered there in were the Seven Houses of the Elves. From her seat at the bottom, near the center of the coliseum, Carole saw every House; every being that lived on the island. One large group of Elves caught her eye. Though all other Elves had either fair hair or black, everyone in this large section had red hair; hair as bright as flames. She would have stuck out like a sore thumb if were not for Hope and Gem, who sat to her left. As Elrond began to make his way to the center platform, Gandalf, with Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo, came walking in, and sat down, with Frodo having to sit beside Carole.
Elrond, then, stood in the very center. Looking out around the peoples gathered together, he stood straight, and began to speak with a loud, clear voice, "My friends…we are but a Dream."
At this announcement, the crowd broke out in shock, asking, "What does he mean?" "We are a Dream?!" "Has Elrond gone mad?" "What is the meaning of this?"
"Friends, please," Elrond shouted above the roar of the crowd, "Silence!" The assembly hushed, and the High Elf continued, "Do not think that I am mad, I know of what I speak. The Valar has told me, and all of the Council of the Wise, that long ago, Men began to dream. They dreamed of a land where war and illness and pain do not exist; where none go hungry, and all live in peace; where people with great power and creatures that heal with magic dwell, safe from the outside world. That land is our land. Valinor. We are the Dreams of the humble and pure of heart. The Dreams of such as these," he said, pointing to Carole and the eight travelers. "They were called here, from each race of Middle Earth, for a purpose. Step forward, Dreamers."
Carole and the other eight 'Dreamers' got up and approached the platform, standing before Elrond, who was then joined by Galadriel and Gandalf. Then Gandalf said, "Let the Ring Bearers and those who remain of the Fellowship come forth," and they were joined by Frodo, Sam, Bilbo, Legolas, and Gimli. Then, Elrond said to Ring Bearers, "You also have a purpose, old friends. Once you wrote the account of the War of the Ring, and all the events before and after. Now, if you will, you must help us keep the Dreams of Men alive."
"As you all know," Galadriel said now, "many of our people have begun to fall under a strange illness, and some have died, though our kind has ever done so before. It is because Men in Middle Earth are beginning to forget about us, about their Dreams."
"But there is hope," Gandalf said, "For we have discovered lands further to the West, and to the South, And the North, across the sea. In these lands, more Men dwell, Men who have never heard of Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, or Wizards. It is to these lands that you must go," he said now to the Dreamers, "With the tales of your races, and of the Elves'. You three must write these stories," He said to the Ring Bearers, "and you two must guide them" he said to Legolas and Gimli, "and collect from every House their tales and history."
"Gandalf shall help you, telling you anything that others cannot," Elrond said.
"This is madness!" a voice cried from the throng. Carole looked and saw a tall Elf, with hair like red flame and gray eyes that burned with anger. "The Elves have always been. We came before all others. Do you expect us to believe that we products of the imaginations of Men?"
"Culachquen," Elrond said to him, "The Valar themselves have told us this. Do you question them?"
"I do, and I protest against having these mortals here on our land. They do not belong. They have never belong, especially not Dwarves or Men! Make them leave at once and give us peace again." At his words, all amber haired Elves began to cry out, "He is right!" "Culachquen knows best." "Make them leave!" "Listen to him, he carries wisdom!"
"Silence!" Elrond yelled, "I give you the choice, anyone who agrees with Culachquen may leave now, and leave us to this endeavor. All who stay agrees to aid us. If you wish to leave, do so now."
Before Elrond had finished, Culachquen and his house left the pantheon. All others sat in awe and disbelief of what had just happened, but stayed, for they had always trusted the Wise and the Valar.
When all had quieted, Elrond continued, "Friends, by the power given to us by the Valar, we christen you nine as The Fellowship of Dreams. May the blessings of all Dreams and Dreamers go with you." With that, the council ended, and the new Fellowship began their quest.
I know it's short, forgive me, but I had to get to one of the main points before yall fell asleep. Please click the pretty button on the left. Thank you peoples! *the Elvish nick names for Homer and Hope, they mean golden wanderer and golden maiden, but from now on, they'll be called by their Rohan names
